#Once I'm done it'll be back to 2024
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cheezyartarchive · 6 months ago
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Intro post!
Yeah hi uh. This is Ally from @cheezyharu, I need somewhere to archive my arts on tumblr and not let them be overshadowed by my other reblogs, and so this place exist.
All art posts will be posting on main then reblogged over here, with most of the tags intact.
Tag directory under cut!
Project Rosemary: An original story. Basically the world is riddled with monsters known as Sombrias and only people known as Illuminaires can defeat them. Our protagonist, Aziel, is an Illuminaire in training attending an academy specialized in training them, and together with his schoolmates, shenanigans ensues.
House of Abnormalities: ANOTHER original story. Where after a bunch of children got rescued from cultish child experiments, they were hidden from the rest of the world, being put into a secluded orphanage to live the rest of their lives in solitude. Haven't fully fleshed out but my 2 main sonas are in here so-
Song OC: Canon divergence rhythm games AU except idk what canon is and am just fucking around. It revolves around Song Gijinkas I made called Songs (I suck at naming lol). Technically the main AU is Phigr.Os Program, and is mainly about Phigros orginals, but since it's not just Phigros songs that has gijinkas, but also other games like Chunithm (and other games that had a collab with Phigros), I'll tag as this to generalize them.
Pokemon OC: Just a series of Pokemon Gijinkas I made over the years. I usually only come back to this tag every Pokeddexy so... don't expect much.
Misc. OC: Guys in other franchises that I don't draw much but am still into, or ones that just don't belong in any project/fandom in particular. That's it lol.
Fanart: Exactly what it is, just a bunch of fanart that I'll group into one tag for convenience :V
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sugawarassoulmate · 11 days ago
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i love evil women idk
words: 285
cw: fem!reader, sub!oikawa, dubious consent, jealousy, toxic relationship, restraints, orgasm denial, misogynistic language, minors dni
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"you're a fucking demon," he grunts, trying to fight against the restraints.
"it's your fault," you bite back, dropping your hips once more just to hear him squirm.
you were never the jealous type until you started dating oikawa. his fidelity was never a question but it was just the thought of some bitch thinking she even had the chance to get with him.
and of course, the charming bastard adored the attention but he mostly enjoyed how it possessive it made you.
"god, you really know how to piss me off, tooru," your hands were planted on his chest. knees bent as you fucked yourself on his cock.
oikawa, exhausted from a late practice, didn't notice when you cuffed his wrists and ankles to the bed frame and while he doesn't object to you being dominant, he was far too sensitive right now.
"these bitches just wanna say they fucked a celebrity, they don't care about you," oikawa groans when he feels your breath against the shell of his ear.
"i don't want them, princess. just you," he whines, wishing he could reach out to grab you. the pace you were going at nearly had him at his limit. he needed to cum right now.
but it wasn't about him.
"oh you wanna cum? ohhhh tooru wants to cum, yeah?" you tease, voice shrill as your hips start to slow, grinding on oikawa's aching cock.
"no, baby, please don't stop. i'm sorry," he begs. "just let me cum in you, it'll feel so good."
but instead of giving in, you push off of him, ignoring how he cries when he doesn't feel the warmth of your cunt anymore.
"not until i'm done with you."
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©sugawarassoulmate 2024 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!
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lady-of-tearshed · 4 months ago
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My rugged Illyrian male
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Cassian x Reader
Cassian week 2024
@cassianappreciationweek
Day 2: Hair
Summary: Cassian is about to meet your parents for the first time, and he is skeptical that they'll appreciate his rugged Illyrian's features as much as you do...
Warnings: Mention of a razor blade.
Word count: 627 words
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“Cass! Are you ready to leave?”
You shout out from downstairs, looking all over your shared house for your favorite red sparkly heels. You were to attend an important ball thrown by your parents, some important Lords from the Spring Court, with Cassian. Your parents hadn't met Cassian yet, well, not as your boyfriend. And you could sense how nervous the male was in making a great first impression.
“Yeah! Uh… One moment, my love.” He stutters from the bathroom on the second floor.
You halt at his suspicious tone, immediately giving up your frantic heel research, instead sneaking upstairs.
You peek your head through the half opened bathroom door, and your eyes widen in horror at the sight of the razor blade in Cassian’s hand.
And at his beautiful beard now half removed from his face, scattered all over the counter.
“Cassie! What-”
He instantly drops the blade, putting his fists on his hips. “What part of “one moment” do you not understand?” He scowls.
You were now standing right in front of him, your hand tracing the newly shaved part of Cassian’s right cheek. “Why would you do that?” You whisper, already knowing you'll miss his beautiful, sexy beard.
Cassian’s arms fall from his hips, and his shoulders slump. “I… I wanted to not look like a…” He paused, “I didn't want to look too rugged.”
He didn't want to look like a rugged Illyrian bastard, was what he didn't say. Your eyes narrowed. “Cass, Illyrians are rugged. And hairy,” You hold his hand, your eyes dead serious. “That's part of the things I like about you.”
“But what if they don't like that about me? What if they think I'm not good enough for you?” He hisses through clenched teeth, running his free hand through his long, unbound hair.
Your eyes soften, and you take a step back with how distressed Cassian sounded about meeting your parents, your hand still firmly holding onto his. “They don't have a say about who I decide to love. I chose you, Cassian. And I'd do it a thousand times again, despite everything anyone has to say.”
Cassian stays silent, but nods. You sigh, and pull him towards the edge of the bathtub. “Sit here,” You mumble, ordering him around. Cassian does what you ask of him, but raises a questioning brow. “Well, we can't just let you have a half-shaved beard. I'll finish the job. It'll help me… grief.”
It might sound quite dramatic, but you would truly be missing your Illyrian’s beautiful thick beard.
Once you're done, you rinse the shaving blade clean, and wet a towel to wipe away any mousse or facial hair remaining on Cassian's defined jaw. He stands up to stare at his reflection into the mirror, all while tying up his hair, the only step left before being completely ready to meet your parents.
“I'm banning any kind of blade from approaching your face.”
Your dramatic complaints make Cassian snorts. “I'm going to let it grow back in peace… Don't worry, love.”
You playfully slap his butt cheek before cowering away, fleeing to the front door before he smacks yours back.
You both slip into your shoes, and before you leave the house you both share, you kiss his cheek, and lean your lips to his ear. “I love you just as you are, my rugged, sexy Illyrian,” You yelp as a brightly smiling Cassian scoops you into his arms, wings spread, ready for take-off. “I love you with a beard the most, though.”
He rolls his eyes and laughs, before taking off to the sky, ready to fight any battles, even if it was just meeting your parents, if you were by his side, loving him for who he is.
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Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria
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scarletwinterxx · 2 months ago
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but on a wednesday in a cafe i watched it begin again - kim mingyu imagine
hiiiii - okay i'm so so so inlove with this one. may i say this is half inspired by real life scenarios haha anyways i hope you like it!
alsooo just a thought, would anyone want to be mutuals on X?
for my other svt fics, check them here
if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)
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10 years ago
"Kyeom, I'm gonna go. I have assignments to do"
"What noooo, the game's just about to start" he mutters, he even kick feet like a little kid
"Then stay, but I'm going" you didn't even give him a chance to say anything because you're already out the gym doors. Your bestfriend used to your attitude at this point, he lets you be.
You pull your bag on your shoulders as you walk towards the school gates, some students were also on their way out since classes are done. Just as you were about to exit, someone calls your name making you look back.
When you spot who was calling you, confusion took over your face. Wondering why Kim Mingyu is here running after you when he should be inside with the basketball team.
"Hey, glad I caught you" he smiles at you.
Kim Mingyu, the guy who's known across all campus. He's the star student, all the teachers like him, he's never missed a class, he's good at studying, never the troublemaker, has a big circle of friends and an even bigger number of admirers from all across the school.
"What's up, do you need something?" you nonchalantly replied but that didn't deter him one bit
"Yea uh actually I wanted to ask you out" he scratches the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes as he waits for your answer
"Me?"
"Yea, I like you"
"Oh uh thanks. But I'm not really looking for that type of thing right now"
You watch the smile fall from MIngyu's face before it comes back again, it doesn't quite reach his eyes though. You notice.
"Oh"
"Yeah, sorry but uhm goodluck on your game though. I'm gonna go now" you wave goodbye before going your way. Not once turning to look back where Mingyu was left standing.
The rest of your high school life flew by like that. You still mostly kept to yourself, a few close friends, never really wanting to have any eyes on you. Mingyu never contacted you after that. You two acted like strangers once again, his confession something only you and him know.
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Present Day
"Did you get the invite?" Dokyeom asks the moments he enters your apartment. After all these years, he's still your bestfriends. Most of your 'friends' from high school you've already lost contact with, you realized you were only friends with them only because you saw them everyday. Not many of them really made the effort to keep in contact, you can't blame them though since you didn't either.
But that's life. People come and go.
"For?"
"Our high school reunion, please tell me you're going"
"I did get it, and no I'm not going"
"What? Why? It'll be fun" he still does this thing where he stomps his feet like a kid when you say no to him, annoying but he's your bestfriend so you learned to put up with it.
"I don't even talk to anyone from high school apart from you"
"I'll be there, you can talk to me" he weakly reasons out, trying to plead with you is like trying to move a cement brick wall. He knows it's a losing battle but he still tries anyways.
"You won't stop bugging me unless I go, won't you?"
"You know me too well"
"Fine, but I'm not staying long"
"3 hours tops"
"2, take it or leave it"
Leave it to Dokyeom to make sure you're actually coming because by 5pm the day of the reunion, he came to your apartment even though you're taking your own car since you don't plan on staying as long as him.
"Oh you actually got ready" he says when you open the door
"I don't want another long message from you, let's go before I change my mind"
The two of you drove separately to the venue, as an introvert you admit when you got there you already want to go home. You see the familiar faces, already dreading the amount of small talks you have to do for the rest of the night. Cursing Dokyeom in your mind.
Your bestfriend didn't even give you a chance to step back inside your car before he's pulling you inside, saying hello to everyone on your way in. He's always been the nicer one between the two of you.
The two of you grab some snacks and drinks before continuing on meddling with your former schoolmates. Your social battery draining drastically by the second when you hear Dokyeom almost scream from beside you,
"Kim Mingyu! Yo dude you made it"
You look over where Dokyeom went, watching him give a bro hug to the guy. There Kim Mingyu stands, still as handsome as ever. A lot of years passed by but he still looks the same, just even better now.
The years have indeed been kind to him.
With everything happening around you, you can't help but feel overwhelmed. A few moments away from sneaking out but Dokyeom catches you once again before you can even give it a try
"Y/N's here too, you remember Mingyu right?"
You wanted to step on your bestfriend's shoes to make him shut up but instead you just shoot him a tight lipped smile before turning to the taller guy,
"Hi"
"Hey, it's been a while. I haven't seen you since... graduation"
"Yea, you too"
End of conversation.
You're still the same, Mingyu thinks. You're still the same girl he liked back then, you're still just as hard to read, still answering with single sentences, still beautiful like the day you broke his heart.
He wonders how you've been since then. Are you dating anyone or are you still out there breaking other guys' heart with your cold demeanor. He's still friends with Dokyeom and last he heard you've been doing okay. No mention of a boyfriend.
You don't give him a chance to ask any question, you say something to Dokyeom before walking towards the door
"Is she alright?" he can't help but ask
"Oh yea, she's being her usual self. It's a miracle I even got her to go tonight so I won't even be surprised if she's about to sneak home now, I'll just call her later"
"You two still close?"
"She's my bestfriend, dude. Of course we are, we're like twins ya know. Anyways how's the cafe going"
Mingyu hangs out with Dokyeom for the rest of the night, they didn't really run out of things to catch up on. He can't help but wonder how two very different people manage to stay close friends. But then again it's Dokyeom, one of the nicest guy he knows. At the end of the day, he's glad you're friends with someone like him.
The next day Dokyeom calls you to bombard you with stories about the reunion that you missed when you came home, he goes on and on about catching up with Mingyu then some other people from your batch you don't even talk to anymore but you listen anyways.
After the phone call, you get ready to go to work. You go on with your routine and before you know it you're done with your 9-5. That goes on for the rest of the week.
Some people hate it but you liked having a routine, it drives you crazy when things don't go your way.
Like tonight, your workmates all but forced you to come with them for afterwork drinks. You wanted to decline but you already done so many times so they made sure you come with them this time.
"Okay okay so what if you're in a room full of all the people you ever liked, who would you go to?"
Everyone take turns to answer until all head turns to you, "Oh me?"
"Yea, come on spill the details girlie we won't tell" one of your workmate jokes, clearly drunk
You take a few more seconds to think before you say your answer
"I guess this guy I rejected in high school"
"What? Oh my gosh whoooo, tell us tell us what happened" they excitedly ask
"Oh no big deal, just a guy. He was nice, like really nice. I liked that about him, but uh I guess high school me wasn't ready for any kind of commitment so I rejected him. I choose him because I want to apologize, that's all"
"Aw did you hear that? that's so cuteee"
"So where is he now?"
"I don't know, I never really kept in touch"
You grab your glass so you can avoid any more questions, after an hour to tell them goodbye since you still have to go to work tomorrow.
And as expected you woke up with a slight headache, even though you wanted to stay in bed for the day you know you can't. You get up and get ready for the day, planning to stop by this cafe your workmates keep on mentioning on your way to work.
Good things it's still early, when you got the cafe there were only a few people inside. You can smell the freshly brewed coffee and pastries on the stand.
"Next, Hi goodmorning what can I get you?"
"Hi, can I get an iced Vanilla Latte and a bagel with cream cheese to go? Thank you" you say your order while the cashier notes it down "Okay, for a moment I'll just get your order ready"
"Sure" you wait on the counter for your order, checking the other pastries and the menu board.
Mingyu was at the back, getting some stocks ready for the day when he spots someone on the counter. He had to do a double take to make sure it was you standing in his cafe, immediately a smile forming on his face as he watch you look at the display case.
You're too lost in your own world to notice him now standing Infront of you so he clears his throat to get your attention, "Can I get you something else, see anything you like?" he asks
He can see you weren't expecting to see him here, out of all places.
What in the twisted fate was this, you think to yourself.
"Oh uh the other barista already took my order" you tell him, Mingyu goes to the other guy telling him something before returning to the register with your order, "One iced vanilla latte and bagel with cream cheese, here you go. Anything else?" he asks again
"I think this is all for now, so how much?"
"On the house" Mingyu says with a smile, makes you wonder if he does this on a regular basis but you shake the thought away.
"What? No, come on I'll feel bad. Tell me how much" you tell Mingyu but he just shakes his head at you
"Free coffee for the pretty lady"
"Do you tell all your lady customers that?" you ask him, the words already out before you can stop yourself. You can feel your cheeks heat up but Mingyu just chuckles, again he shakes his head
"Just you, tell me next time how's our coffee and baked goods are then we'll call it even" he tells you, pointing at the suggestion box
"Are you sure? My workmates recommended this place and they said the coffee is good but I never really went with them" you tell him,
"You work close by?"
"A few blocks from here, I sometimes pass by here but it's always so busy. I guess I got lucky today"
All this time you were this close to where he was and he never knew. Mingyu mentally agrees with you, indeed it is a lucky day because for the first time since he met you you finally said more than one sentence to him.
17 year old Mingyu would be pouting and kicking his feet out of jealousy, he would never believe this day would come but here you are.
"Thank you for the coffee and food, uh see you around"
"You too, Y/N. It's nice to see you again" he smile again, you shoot him a small smile before going your way.
He watches you go out the door, the scene of you walking away hitting him like a Deja vu. A scene from 10 years go playing in head. Just as you were about to exit the door, to turn around to look at him behind the counter then shoot him another smile then you were gone.
This time though Mingyu wasn't left with a heart to mend but something to look forward to. Maybe just maybe this time it'll be his chance.
"You're down bad" Hoshi, his co-owner and other barista, says from beside him
"Huh?"
"Really?? Coffee for the pretty lady? so original" he laughs
"What? I never used that on anyone" Mingyu mumbles, "I know, that's why I said you're down bad. Who is she by the way?"
"Someone very special, call me when she comes back" he pats Hoshi on the shoulder before going to the back to resume his re-stocking duties.
Mingyu didn't want to expect (but he was), he would be lying if he didn't tell Hoshi he'd open tomorrow and man the register just in case you come in early again. He would be lying if he says he looked up every time the bell dings signaling another customer came in only it wasn't you.
It took you a few days before you visited again, and this time luck wasn't on Mingyu's side because he was not on duty.
"Hey, you're Mingyu's friend" Hoshi remembers you from the other day, greeting you with a big smile making his eyes almost disappear. He seems like a warm person, very friendly.
"Yeah, you can say that" you shyly answer him "Oh right sorry, what can I get you?"
"I'll get another iced vanilla latte. The last one you made was really good" you tell him
"Thanks, make sure to drop that inside our box" he jokes "Anything else?"
"Can you recommend any pastry for me to try? They all look so good"
"Honestly, not to be biased, everything's good here but that chocolate cake is extra special. Mingyu makes it himself everyday, want a slice?"
"Sure, sounds great"
Hoshi, you learn his name, goes and make your order like before then returns to the counter "Okay here you go, and the man says it's on the house"
"Huh?" you ask confused "Mingyu said it's on the house if ever you come back"
"Oh I can not not pay, he already said that the last time" you said, already getting your card out
"No really, he insists. And between us, I'd be in bigger trouble if I let you pay. If you want to scold him, feel free to do so and drop it in the box"
You chuckle, finally taking your drink and food "Thanks again, let me write something" you seat on a vacant chair to get a paper from inside your bag, writing a quick note before going back to the counter to drop it in the box. You say goodbye to Hoshi before going.
You feel your phone ring in your pocket, Dokyeom's name flashing on the screen "Barbeque later"
"Are you asking or are you telling me?"
"I'll come by after work" then he hangs up.
A few hours later, your bestfriend shows up with a few grocery bags and a loud mouth. You two catch up on what you missed on the few days you didn't get to talk, he likes staying up to date with your life even though nothing really ever happens. He's like the brother you never expected but you're now stuck with.
"Do you have any sweets here, chocolate or something" you hear him scrummaging through your kitchen
"I have a cake slice in the fridge"
Dokyeom finds it then walks back to the dining table, setting it in the middle to share between the two of you
"Oh gosh this is so good, where did you buy this?"
"At Mingyu's cafe, did you know he had one?" you ask back, Dokyeom's head springs up to look at you
"You went there? Mingyu did mention he had a cafe. So you two talked?"
"Yea he was there the first time I went, it was really nice the coffee is good. The other barista said Mingyu baked this" you tell him, taking another bite
"You know, you never told me why you rejected him"
Dokyeom suddenly mentioning that made you cough out loud, "You said you liked him right? Then all of a sudden you were telling me you rejected him"
"Are we really talking about this? It's been 10 years"
"Yea"
"Like I said, I didn't have the time and I got overwhelmed. Everyone knew who Mingyu was, I didn't want that kind of attention on me too. I guess 17 year old me got scared"
Dokyeom listens to you, watching you stab the piece of cake before taking a bite "For what it's worth, he really liked you back then. He even asked me what your favorites were, I said you liked cakes more than ice cream"
Back at the cafe, Mingyu comes in after Hoshi closes so he can start on baking tomorrow's batch of cake. He's in the kitchen getting the ingredients ready while Hoshi cleans the display case and front of the house.
He was humming to himself when he hears the kitchen door swing open, "Oh by the way Y/N dropped by today"
Mingyu forgets the number he was on, now he has to measure the flour all over again. He turns to look at his friend with an annoyed expression, Hoshi holds his hands in the air
"Hey don't blame me, not my fault she went here on your only day off. But I did say it's on the house courtesy of you, so you're welcome"
"Atleast you did something right" Mingyu says
"And she got the chocolate cake, she also dropped something in the box. Go check it when you're done, I'm going now" he waves goodbye before going to the office to do a few more things before leaving Mingyu alone at the shop.
He tries to focus first on what he's doing, going back to measuring the ingredients and putting it in the oven before going to the counter to get the box.
How will find your note here when there's about 30 others in here, he's not so sure. He reads through a few of them when finally he finds one
Coffee is great, maybe even better with company. On me next time I come back, thanks Gyu :)
He knows it's from you because of the nickname, a lot of people from highschool used to call him that. It may be common but it sounded extra special when you're the one calling him that. He takes the note and put it in his pocket before putting the others back.
Tonight's cake about to be extra good.
When Mingyu comes in the shop the next day he was expecting you to come, he wasn't going to lie about it this time.
It might seem silly but he never really got over his crush on you. There's something about you that he admired so much, even though people said you're the 'ice queen' with your stoic expression and one line answers he thinks you're just always straight to the point.
He never harbored hard feelings even after you rejected him, he understood your reasons. He knew you were focused on your studies but he just wanted to shoot his shot.
That day when he asked you, he already saw you in the gym before the game. He thought you were going to watch only for you to disappear a few minutes before they started, he chased after you with high hopes only to be handed his heart back in a few pieces. But even then he still liked you, he continued on admiring you from afar. Cheering you on your academic victories and cheering for you on your graduation day when you gave out your valedictorian speech.
He liked watching you achieve your goals, you always had that laser focus and determination. The entire class knew you deserved it.
Now a decade later, you're still the same in some ways. The night during the reunion party, he didn't expect to see you there. You didn't age a day, you still look so beautiful. You now carry this confident but reserved aura around you, he admits he was a bit intimidated to approach you so he thanks Dokyeom for being there.
The day passed by and still no sign of you, when he turns the open sign over to close he lets out the biggest sigh. Looking at the last slice of cake on the stand, ironically very similar to him. Waiting for you to come by.
He's busy mopping the floors to notice he didn't lock the front door, you just got out of work and decided to check if the cafe was still open. The sign said closed but you spot Mingyu inside so you try to knock on the glass door but he couldn't hear you so you let yourself in.
You walk closer to where he was before tapping him on the back making the tall man jump up in the air with mop in hand.
Mingyu turns around, holding his hand to his chest as he looks at you blinking back at him "Fuck you scared the shit out of me, sorry" he mumbles the apology after letting a few curses out
"Sorry, I didn't mean too. I knocked but you couldn't hear. Uhm is it a bad time?"
"No, I mean no it's good. I was just cleaning up. Do you want anything?" he asks you, putting the mop in the bucket before walking towards the counter with you following. He stands by the cashier while you stand on the other side
You spot the last piece of cake like it's calling your name, Mingyu following your gaze. Smiling to himself while he waits for your order.
"I'll get the last piece of chocolate cake, please. Hoshi recommended it yesterday and it was really food. Glad I got the last one" you smile
Little did you know he made that recipe with you in mind. He knew you liked chocolate cakes. "Chocolate cake coming up, anything else? Our cookies are good too, let me get some for you"
"As long as you let me pay for it"
"Not a chance, miss" Mingyu smirks, putting the remaining cookies in a box along with the cake before walking back to face you
"Not this again, you already got it for me the last few times I was here. How will you run a business if you keep on giving it out for free"
"I don't always do it" Mingyu shrugs
"Just let me pay please" you say giving him your card but he just pushes it back
"No"
"Mingyu"
He smiles, looking over at you. For a second you were taken back by his stare. The only way you can describe it was sweet, he looked so sweet like the cake he baked. He looked so soft and gentle like he wouldn't break a heart.
"Come back next time, I'll let you pay"
"You said that the last time"
"Then keep coming back, maybe one day I'll let you" he confidently tells you, the underlying message of wanting to see you again lies in the air. He holds his breath waiting for your next words,
"If you don't let me pay the next time, I won't come back" you threaten him cutely, finally taking the bag from him. Mingyu smiles walking to the other side to walk you out.
Before you reach the door you stop, "Actually, there's something I need to tell you" you turn to look up at him
"Go ahead, I'm listening"
You take a few seconds, again surprised with how he's staring right at you. Like he's seeing all of you.
"I would like to apologize for what happened before, you know the whole rejection thing. I know it's a bit overdue, actually it's very overdue but I've always wanted to say sorry. Someone asked me if I was in a room full of all the people I liked, who would I run to I said you. That's because I wanted to say sorry... so yea. I'm sorry" you mumble, now you're looking at his chest. Too shy to look at him
"You like me?" Mingyu mumbles
This make you look at him again, "That's all you heard?"
"I mean I appreciate the thought, apology accepted. Now back to my question.. I heard that right, right?"
"You're not wrong"
You and your one liner answers.
"So how many are there in the room" he asks, now he's teasing you. You can't help but scowl at him, rolling your eyes.
"It's a very short list and you're missing my point"
"No I get it, and no need to apologize. I respect your decision back then and I still do now. No need to say sorry over that, no hard feelings" he smiles at you.
Mingyu wanted to reach out and hold your hand but he stops himself. He didn't want to mess this again with you, if this is finally his second chance then he's not going to do anything to mess it up.
"I really am, it's been 10 years but I just wanted to tell you that. So yea.. that's uh that's all"
"Can I ask something?"
"What?" you ask back "Who else would be in the room with me, do I know the others"
"Oh my gosh! It's a very short list"
He laughs at your answer, reaching up to tuck the loose hair than fell on your face behind your ear.
"I believe you, tell me about it next time you get coffee"
"Seriously making me rethink about coming back here" you pout, this made Mingyu's heart pound like crazy. A hundred shots of espresso got nothing on you. Only you can make him feel this way, so alive.
"I'll bake you a cake" he bargains
"Chocolate?"
"All yours, on the house"
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thankskenpenders · 11 months ago
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Happy new year, everyone! Welcome to 2024, the year that will mark the 10th anniversary of Thanks Ken Penders. I'd like to go over my plans for the blog for this year.
First of all: in the very near future, I'll have a post with my thoughts on Sonic Dream Team, and I'm sure I'll write one last Sonic Prime review once the final episodes drop on the 11th. I've also been sitting on an unfinished piece about the Sonic LEGO sets. I wanted this to be longer and more detailed piece that not only reviewed the sets but also went into the weird disconnect between homogenized image of Sonic the Brand and the actual fiction it's based off of, but it'll probably end up getting cut down a lot just so I can put something out. Let's just say I did a fun little thing with one of the sets.
Second: yes, I would like to return to regular TKP updates this year. As I've said many times, I wanted to do this in 2023, but I've been suffering from creative burnout after finishing SLARPG and have generally been unable to focus on any of my creative goals this past year. I'm hoping that this year will be better and I'll be able to get back into the swing of covering Archie Sonic issues. Even doing one issue every week or so would be vastly preferable to continuing the hiatus. I'm still only halfway done!! But aside from burnout, my other main hurdle is that I need to reread my own archive to refresh myself on all these things after nearly three years away. This will take some time.
The thing is, though, this year I'll have an extra incentive to go back through my previous writing and brush up on all things Archie Sonic. Because you see...
I've decided that I want to make a video essay about Penders. The comics, the copyright battle, The Lara-Su Chronicles, everything.
The why
I've thought about doing this before, but I never committed to the idea. I was too busy with gamedev, or I thought it'd end up being too long, or I figured that there were already enough videos on the subject, or I just lacked confidence in my ability to put together a video essay. So I told myself it wasn't meant to be, and let the multiple YouTubers who have cited me as a source on their own Penders videos fill that void.
Recently, though, a few things have happened that have convinced me it might be time. For one, YouTube video essays/media retrospectives/etc. are just getting longer and longer. When Quinton Reviews is out here doing 21 hours of videos on Sam & Cat, a subpar Nick sitcom that only lasted one season, I don't feel so crazy for wanting to make a video about several hundred comic books and two lawsuits that'd be at least an hour or two long lmao. Admittedly, I've also been self-conscious about doing a long video essay like this as a trans woman who has yet to do any vocal training. But these days I feel like I see a lot more transfem YouTubers who have done little to no vocal training, and that's given me more confidence on that front.
But the big one was Hbomberguy's recent plagiarism video. As I sat there watching it, I kept thinking about the time I found a CBR article that was just a crude 800 word summary of my two previous articles on Penders, published by a CBR writer who's put out over 4000 articles since 2019. If I've already been plagiarized before, and my writing is so frequently passed around as a go-to source on Archie Sonic drama, then I wouldn't be shocked if there were YouTubers out there straight up just plagiarizing me. I don't watch other peoples' videos on Archie Sonic, so I'd never know! So if people are just gonna paraphrase me when covering these topics anyway, why not take matters into my own hands and make what I would consider to be the definitive video on the subject? If hacks like James Somerton and iilluminaughtii can churn out these shitty video essays and people will still watch them, surely it can't be that impossible to make my own, right? (And also, uh, Hbomb literally told me I should make the video lol. If you're reading this, thanks for the encouragement.)
The what, how, and when
So here's the plan.
Part of this video essay will be an adaptation of my Medium article on the recurring themes of Ken's Archie Sonic run, with its content touched up and expanded upon. There were a few things I skimmed over in the article because I didn't want it to get too long, but again, people are out here watching ten hour videos about bad Nickelodeon sitcoms now. I can get away with elaborating a little more. I can add a few paragraphs talking about the Chaos Knuckles arc, or throw in a little more historical context I've discovered in the years since.
After covering the comics, the back half(-ish?) of the video will be dedicated to the copyright battles and their ensuing controversies, trying to give an accurate picture of what actually went down, the sheer scale of how bad Archie fucked up, and what our takeaways should be. This will have some similarities to my New York Magazine article on the subject, but I'll be rewriting it from scratch. I REALLY had to keep things short for that article because I was already way over the expected word count, and my tone was a little more straight-laced than normal because I was trying to keep things Professional. I can riff more and insert more of my own opinions this time, like I normally would.
I'll inevitably have to touch on some of Ken's Bad Tweets when discussing things that have happened after the lawsuits, but I don't want the video to just devolve into a list of times people got mad at him on Twitter, so I'm gonna try to keep that to a minimum in favor of focusing on his actual work. Things like the Scourge the Speed Demon incident and his continued statements on certain characters' copyright statuses probably warrant mentioning, though. And finally, assuming that the book really does come out this summer, I would like the grand finale of the video to be about those first couple chapters of The Lara-Su Chronicles.
I don't currently know when this video will get done, but it'll probably be in the back half of the year, especially with me waiting for the book to either drop or get delayed yet again. But I've actually already started writing a bit of the script, and will keep chipping away at it for a while.
So, uh, yeah, look forward to that? Wish me luck?
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writingforstraykids · 7 months ago
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Only the best for you
Pairing: Minchan
Word Count: 2973
Summary: Felix's birthday party turns thrilling for Chan and Minho as they sneak away for a moment of privacy...more or less.
Warnings/tags: smut, fluff, idiots in love, soft!dom!chan, soft!sub!min, semi-public sex (a closet😭😂)
A/N: Soo after hearing this audio of my dear @slutforchanlix I had to go and write a little something for it. Thank you Azzy baby for the main idea for this fic hehe @galaxycatdrawz
do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -
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Minho steps into the bedroom cursing softly to himself as the button keeps on slipping from his hand. “Channie,” he calls out to his boyfriend frustratedly. 
“Mhm?” Chan gives back, his steps echoing in the hallway as he makes his way over. 
“Help, please,” Minho pouts at him and stretches his arm out for him. He yelps in protest when Chan grabs his arm and pulls him in so quickly that their bodies collide. Chan's hands grip his ass, squeezing his cheeks and then he's kissing him forcefully. Minho giggles surprised, gripping his arm to steady himself. “And what was that for, hm?” he asks once Chan pulls back. 
“You look incredibly fuckable right now,” he admits and Minho's jaw drops.
He shoves his chest and shakes his head at him. “Stop,” he giggles. “What the fuck are you on about again?” 
Chan smiles, eyes wandering all over his body as he takes in the sight again. “You're beautiful, that's why,” he says, watching him in wonder as he readjusts the fragile silver bracelet around his neck. “You've got the prettiest face and your lips look so kissable right now. Also that outfit looks so good on you, but what doesn't?” Chan says and takes a few steps back. “Turn for me?” he asks innocently. 
“My cuffs aren't buttoned up yet,” he protests softly but rolls his eyes at Chan's disappointed pout. Minho sighs and slowly turns, blushing a little beneath Chan's intense gaze. 
“Fuck, Minho,” he breathes out, eyes wandering lower to where Minho's trousers hug his thick thighs tightly. “If you don't suffocate me with those thighs later I'll cry.”
“What the hell are you on?” Minho laughs out loud and smiles at him giddy. “Look at you getting all worked up about me fully dressed.”
Chan closes the distance between them and gently takes his hand, closing the button for him on one sleeve and then on the other. He brings up his hands to his mouth and kisses his knuckles, smiling at him happily. “Sometimes I just can't believe you're truly mine.”
“Well, wake up, it's been four years, dummy,” he says fondly. “I'm yours and yours only,” he promises sweetly. 
Chan hums happily. “Mine,” he smirks before kissing him passionately again. 
“Don't you dare keep this up tonight,” he giggles. “It's Lix’s birthday and they rented this whole huge mansion to celebrate. Hyunjin would be pissed if we ruined some sofa in there just because you can't stop being such a tease.”
“Who says it'll be the sofa?” Chan smirks and Minho rolls his eyes playfully. “I'm sure there's some secluded room…or closet,” he says and watches Minho's eyes fill with curiosity. He knew he'd get him with that. The chance of sneaking around and getting caught had done things before to Minho neither of them could explain. 
Minho's smile widens at the implication, his eyes sparkling with mischief and a hint of excitement. "You're so stupid," he laughs, the sound bubbling up effortlessly. Chan simply grins back, his own excitement easily noticeable.
"Promise me something?" Minho says, his tone suddenly serious. Chan's eyebrows lift in curiosity. "Promise me no matter what happens tonight, we'll make time for us, just us. Even if it's just a moment stolen away from the chaos." Chan's face softens, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from Minho's forehead.
"I promise," he says softly, then his lips brighten into a smile. "You know I can't deny you anything." They share a quiet moment, eyes locked, nothing but warmth between them. 
The sound of a distant car honking pulls them back to reality. "Sounds like the cab’s here," Chan notes, a hint of reluctance in his voice as if he'd rather stay in this moment forever.
"We should go," Minho agrees, though he takes a second longer to lean in and steal another quick kiss. They break apart, a little breathless but smiling widely.
-
At the mansion Hyunjin lets them inside and leads them downstairs. “We set up the party there because they have all sorts of stuff we could use. We even have a small disco.”
“Oh, nice,” Minho smirks at the thought of letting loose and dancing with Chan. 
As they make their way downstairs, the sounds of laughter and music greet them. The mansion is beautifully decorated, every detail perfect for the celebration. Lix, the birthday boy, is in the center of it all, surrounded by friends and brightly colored balloons.
"Happy Birthday!" Minho and Chan chorus as they approach, each giving Lix a warm hug. Lix beams at them, his happiness fully on display.
"Thanks for coming, guys! I’m so glad you're here," Felix exclaims. "Make yourselves at home—there's food, drinks, and later on, we’re hitting the dance floor hard!"
As the evening progresses, the party goes quite nicely for everyone involved. Music thumps through the mansion, and people mingle and dance.
Minho and Chan drift together through the crowd, occasionally separated as friends pull them into conversations or dance-offs but always finding their way back to each other. Their eyes meet across the room often, a silent conversation of smiles and nods, the promise of a stolen moment never far from their minds.
At one point, Minho finds himself alone on a balcony, taking a moment to breathe in the cool night air. The stars are out, twinkling above in a clear sky. He leans against the railing, lost in thought, until he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist.
"Escaped the chaos?" Chan's voice is soft, his breath warm against Minho's neck.
"Just needed a minute to breathe," Minho replies, leaning back into the embrace. "You?"
"I was looking for you," Chan confesses, tightening his hold slightly. "Remember your promise?" he whispers, his lips brushing against Minho's ear, sending a shiver down his spine.
"How could I forget?" Minho turns in Chan's arms to face him, their noses brushing. "So, about that closet…" he trails off, a teasing glint in his eye.
Chan chuckles, his gaze fond and filled with love. "Let's go find it," he suggests, taking Minho's hand and leading him back inside.
They wander through the party, unnoticed in their quest. When they finally slip away into a quiet hallway, their hands are clasped tightly, the thrill of their little adventure adding an extra layer of excitement.
There's a huge closet standing at the wall and Chan smirks opening the door to it. There are some cleaning supplies in there, which he quickly shoves aside before stepping into it. “Come on,” he giggles and Minho steps inside as well. It’s quiet here, away from the noise of the party. They close the door behind them, the click of it shutting sounding unusually loud in the silence.
Chan backs Minho against the wall, their bodies pressing close. "Found you," Chan murmurs, before his lips find Minho's again. The kiss is deep, passionate, fueled by the adrenaline of their sneaky escape.
Minho's hands roam over Chan's back, pulling him closer, their bodies moving in sync with a rhythm only they know. They break the kiss only to catch their breath, foreheads resting against each other, their breaths mingling. “I love you,” Minho whispers into the quiet. “Love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Chan whispers back, hands squeezing his hips. “It's darker than I expected here,” he admits. 
“Well, obviously,” Minho laughs out loud and covers his mouth in shock. 
“Should we keep the door open, just a little?” he asks and Minho responds with a choked, little moan. “Means you gotta be quiet, bunny, think you can do that?”
Minho squirms a little and nods before realizing Chan can't see him. “Yes, yes I can,” he nods quickly. 
“Mhm, you better, or I'll stop moving,” he says and Minho can hear him undoing his belt. 
“Yes, hyung,” he answers softly, biting his lower lip hard. Chan gently shoves the door open enough to let in a little light. Their eyes meet and Minho swallows at the need in Chan's dark orbs. 
“Trust me,” Chan murmurs as he leans in, his breath hot against Minho’s cheek. The slight crack of the door allows the distant sounds of the party to seep in—a reminder of the world just outside their hidden spot.
Minho nods, his heartbeat quickening with each of Chan's movements. There’s a thrill to this—the secrecy, the risk, the sheer excitement of being with Chan in such a risky setting.
Chan’s hands are careful yet confident as they explore Minho, each touch sending shivers through him. Minho reaches out, his fingers digging into Chan’s back, pulling him closer, needing to feel as much of him as possible.
The soft hum of the party continues to drift through their small opening. 
“You make everything feel like an adventure,” Minho breathes out, his voice a hushed whisper against Chan’s lips.
Chan smiles, his eyes reflecting a mix of love and mischief. “Only the best for you,” he replies, pressing another kiss to Minho’s lips, this one tender and filled with promise. “Let's make sure you're ready, hm?” Chan hums against his lips and fumbles with the button of Minho's trousers. 
“Yeah,” he nods feverishly and shoves down his trousers and boxers enough for Chan to get to work. 
Chan pulls out the small bottle of lube, safely stored in the inside of his jacket. He pours some on his fingers and reaches behind Minho, circling his hole before pushing inside. Minho grips his shoulder tightly, mouth forming a silent “oh”. “Relax,” Chan whispers, gently working his finger inside. “Good boy,” he adds as Minho does exactly that and lets Chan do as he wants to. 
“Fuck, love, please,” he moans sweetly, pressing back on his finger. 
Chan smiles at Minho's responsiveness, adding another finger and scissoring them slowly, careful to prepare him properly. The intimate touches, combined with their secluded environment, heighten the intensity of each sensation. Minho's breath catches, his forehead resting against Chan's shoulder as he adjusts to the feeling.
"Better?" Chan asks, his voice low and comforting.
"Much," Minho manages to reply, his voice laced with a mix of pleasure and anticipation. He adjusts his stance slightly, allowing Chan better access, his own hands gripping Chan's jacket for support.
Chan continues his careful movements, his free hand tracing gentle patterns along Minho's side, soothing and arousing all at once. The soft, muffled sounds of the party outside seem worlds away, their own private universe reduced to the small, dimly lit space of the closet and the overwhelming sensations flooding through them.
Finally feeling that Minho is ready, Chan pulls out his fingers and takes a condom from his jacket pocket. With quick, practiced movements, he tears the package open and rolls it onto himself. He looks into Minho's eyes, searching for any last hesitation, but finds only eager need in them.
"You sure?" he asks, again.
"Absolutely," Minho replies, his voice firm yet breathy. "Please, Chan, I need you."
Chan nods, aligning himself with Minho, his hands gripping his hips tightly. He pushes forward gently, pausing at the resistance he meets to let Minho adjust. The tight heat welcoming him sends a shudder through his body, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself. No rush. 
Minho bites down on his lip, concentrating on relaxing as Chan begins to move. Once fully buried inside, Chan gives them both a moment to adjust before starting a slow rhythm. Each thrust is controlled and soft, aiming for a depth and angle that pulls soft, quiet moans from Minho.
Their movements are synchronized, a dance they’ve perfected over time. The sounds of their breaths and the quiet squelch of the lube mix with the faint music from the party.
"Chan..." Minho breathes out, his hands sliding up to tangle in Chan's hair. He pulls him down for a kiss, hungry and deep, which Chan eagerly returns. The kiss muffles their moans, their pace changing as they lose themselves in each other.
Chan's hands explore Minho's body, his fingers tracing the lines and curves he knows so well, each touch sparking additional waves of desire. Minho's hands are equally busy, caressing Chan's back, shoulders, and occasionally drifting lower, thrusting deeper.
Minho's head drops back against the wall of the closet, jaw growing slack as Chan barely moves anymore. They both know how much he loves feeling full and Chan loves seeing him lose control. Chan starts kissing his neck as Minho gets more vocal, breathy moans and small huffs leaving him. He soothingly squeezes his hip and bites back a soft groan as Minho's moans rise in volume the more his lips travel over his neck. 
Minho's grip on his jacket grows tight as Chan barely pulls out before already pushing inside again, grinding against his prostate. “Ohh, fuuck,” he moans out louder than he should. He can't help it as Chan finds just the right angle to make his whole body sing with pleasure. Chan's breath hitches at the sound, encouraged by the undeniable evidence of Minho's pleasure.
"Shh, we've got to keep it down, remember?" Chan reminds him softly, even as he adjusts his movements to maintain that perfect angle, each thrust calculated to deepen the sensation for Minho.
Minho nods, biting his lip hard, his eyes fluttering closed as he fights to stay quiet. He wraps his arms around Chan, pulling him closer, their bodies flush against each other, minimizing any noise from their movements.
Chan's face, buried into the crook of Minho's neck, his hot breaths against Minho's skin sending shivers down his spine. He whispers encouragements, each word a tender vibration against Minho's sweaty skin. "You're doing so well," he murmurs, "Just a bit longer, I've got you."
Minho's hands travel down, tracing the line of Chan's spine, feeling the muscles work beneath his skin. He reaches lower and touches himself where Chan's body meets his, increasing his own pleasure. He feels a familiar tightening, his orgasm approaching rapidly.
Chan feels it too, his movements becoming less rhythmic, more erratic as he gets closer to the edge. "Minho," he gasps, his voice a tight whisper, "I'm—"
"I know," Minho cuts him off, his voice a breathy moan. “Please, baby, with me-.”
The permission breaks the last of Chan's restraint. With a few more thrusts, deep and hectic, they reach their climax together. Chan's grip tightens around Minho as he shudders as waves of pleasure wash over them, leaving them clinging to each other, breathless and spent. Minho can't stop the filthy sounds spilling from his mouth anymore and Chan doesn't stop him, loving the sound of his name so broken, so delicate, so sweet way too much. 
For a few moments, they simply hold each other, their breaths slowly calming. Chan eventually pulls back slightly, looking into Minho's eyes with a depth of love that words could never fully capture. He presses a soft, long kiss to Minho's lips, which the younger returns just as lovingly. 
"We should probably get back," Chan whispers against Minho's lips. 
Minho nods, a soft smile covering his lips. "Yeah, before they start sending out search parties for us." He helps Chan tidy up, adjusting each other's clothes and hair to erase any obvious signs of what had happened. 
They open the closet door fully, peeking out to make sure the coast is clear. The party still rumbles on, the sounds of celebration unchanged by their temporary absence. They slip out, blending back into the crowd, sharing looks, secret smiles and knowing glances.
As they mingle, they keep close, occasionally brushing hands or exchanging soft words.
The night continues, and the music changes to slower, softer beats. Minho leans against Chan, his head resting on his shoulder as they sway gently to the music. Chan’s arms wrap around him, strong and secure.
“Happy?” Chan whispers lowly. 
“Very,” Minho replies genuinely. “Best birthday party ever, and it’s not even mine.”
Chan laughs softly, his breath warm against Minho’s neck. “Every day with you feels like a celebration,” he says, meaning every word.
As the party slowly comes to an end, guests begin to say their goodbyes. Minho and Chan help Lix with some of the cleanup, gathering decorations and tidying up the space. The other boys poke fun at them for working in sync so well by now. 
Once they're done Minho turns to Chan. "Let's go home," he suggests gently. Chan nods, taking Minho's hand in his, their fingers intertwining naturally.
Once home, they kick off their shoes and collapse onto the couch, their bodies melting into one another in a familiar, comforting way. Chan rests his head against Minho's shoulder, his breaths deep and even.
"We really needed this, didn't we?" Chan murmurs, his voice muffled against Minho's shirt.
"Yeah, we did," Minho agrees, his hand stroking Chan's hair, soothing him. "Just some time away from everything else."
They sit in silence for a while, just enjoying the peace of their living room, the quiet hum of the city outside their windows providing a gentle background noise. It doesn't take long and Chan's straddling Minho's lap, sharing tired and loving kisses. As they break apart, Minho's phone buzzes with a message. He glances at it, a smile spreading across his face. "Looks like Jisungie is throwing another party next week," he chuckles, showing Chan the screen.
Chan groans playfully. "Another chance to hide somewhere?"
"Only if you behave until then," Minho teases, laughing. 
The rest of the night is spent in a comfortable silence, with occasional bursts of laughter when one of them shares a random thought. 
Eventually, they make their way to bed. As they get comfortable, their bodies close, Chan whispers, "I love you, Minho. More than anything."
"I love you too, Chan. Forever," Minho whispers back softly.
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MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES
Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):
@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143
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dawnoftime22 · 3 months ago
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tied together with a smile.
| T.S
Warnings: breakup, R crying and sobbing, anxiety, taylor comforting and confessing
Summary: After receiving a text of a breakup on what you thought would be a peaceful morning, your heart gets broken, and you pay a visit to your best friend, Taylor, to gain reassurance. Which, you had all the comfort you needed, but a confession of love along with it too, healing your broken heart.
Word Count: 2.7k
Category: hurt/comfort, fluff
REQUEST : It was kind of angsty which ik you dont do much of but reader just experience a break up and went to Taylor who is her best friend as a shoulder to cry and eventually Taylor swift confesses during it and ends with lots of fluff
special request made for : @brainrotqueen <3
A/N: I'm not sure what to really feel about this fic? the intro is a little long, which I hope you don't mind, but I hope this turned out to be what you wanted it as! enjoy, and hugs to all of you sweethearts<3
| Started on 24/08/2024, 8:05 AM |
| Finished on 25/08/2024, 12:00 PM |
Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist
"in broken hearts, there are always new beginnings awaiting."
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|———————��——— ⸆⸉ ———————————|
It was early in the day. The birds were chirping in the blue skies and the clouds were dissipating in the cause of the afternoon.
Having already gotten up and showered, you were in the kitchen, sitting at the dining table, enjoying your breakfast. It was a peaceful day, and seemingly the starting of a good one.
But it all went down when your eyes captured the sight of the notification at the top of your phone screen.
You were nearly about to be excited. Nearly. It was a name you loved, and you hadn't gotten a text from them in days. But the words written down wasn't a returning, much of the opposite. It was a goodbye that made your heart skip a beat.
'We're breaking up,' was all the message said. It was like time froze. You froze. And not in a good way. Not like when you fell in love for the first time. You didn't even know you could feel anything similar to it again, but it was the sinking feeling of something you spent all your time on, trying to see if it'll work, only for it to fall apart all over again. You can feel your heart rate pick up in its pace, the messaging app opening when you tapped on the notification.
You try to question, to write down your apologies for whatever you had done wrong, wondering what you could do turn it back to just you and your beloved, with the shaky hands you had, letters were being slipped in the midst of your foggy vision.
But there was no reply to any of the messages you had sent.
You exit the messaging screen of someone who was now your ex, your eyes staring at the contact name as you sniffled, the tears freely escaping. You suspected as much of the circumstances, considering your reeling mind already going through everything that could ever happen. But it didn't mean it didn't hurt.
You turned off your phone and put it face down against the table, your cheek getting the treatment of your hand resting firmly against it as you stare down at your empty plate. It had leftover bread crumbs.
You sighed. Your mug still held half of your drink. But you didn't even have the appetite to finish it anymore. Your stomach felt as though it was a swirling black hole that might collapse in on itself.
The chair lightly scraped and screeched against the wooden floor below you, making you grimace in response, but you pick up the plate and mug anyway, unable to think straight, feeling like a void had come over you.
Who were you supposed to go to now? Nothing seemed right to you. You wanted to curl up in bed and forget about it all, but you also wanted a pair of arms to embrace you. To keep you warm, to keep you from feeling lonely as your heart was shaking against your ribcage.
Then you pause once you put the dishes in the sink. There was someone. Your hand tightens around the handle of your mug, clenching it in a tight grip, then you quickly pour the drink out to the sink and wash the mug out with water, making sure the sink's all cleared of leftovers or liquids, in case the ants would feast upon it.
You sighed. Taylor. Of course. Your bestfriend, the person who's always been there beside you with every step you took. Not another second was wasted as you grabbed your car keys and got out your house, aiming to drive straight to her house.
It was a wonder Taylor's house was so close. You were sure you wouldn't have been able to focus on the road properly with your misty vision, but then again, you had driven with your mind on auto pilot the entire way.
It flew over your head to even call or message her, but you already parked in the driveway.
Oh, god, was she even home? You unbuckled your seatbelt, looking around. But her car was there beside yours in the driveway, which gave relief to your running heart.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down as much as you could, but you wouldn't be able to do so within such little time.
After a few minutes, you wipe away your tears that had escaped, and turned off the engine, getting out your car to step up to her front door.
You took another breath in and rang the doorbell with a shaky hand, hearing it echo through the house as you shifted on your feet. You sniffled, feeling the passage of your throat being swollen from holding back any sobs, or crying even.
There were soon footsteps coming closer to the door, a meow going alone with it, until it eventually opens with a familiar face behind it. "Hey--" Taylor's voice comes through, her eyes just barely seeing behind the door to find you.
She can instantly tell you looked absolutely miserable, standing there at her door. Your red tinted nose, and bleak eyes that were sheening a gleam of sadness more than it could be assumed as the light's reflection instead.
"...What's wrong?" She asked softly, and you had your teeth capturing your lower lip. You saw the way her smile faltered, and how her shoulders went down. But she noticed the anxiety stirring within you, your fingers brushing over your palm. You almost regretted going to find company, almost not wanting to share the death swallowing your heart whole, because, it felt like it was only going to get worse from here.
"I just wanted to be with you," you whispered, trying to give her the smallest and weakest smile, but your voice betrayed you and cracked.
Her heart swelled at how she was your first thought to come all the way to her house after whatever had happened to you, but the way you looked had her worrying over it all.
"Come on...tell me. It doesn't look like you only wanted to visit me." she murmurs, concern filling her up as she pulls you into her home fully, closing the door behind you gently.
When she comes to wrap her arms around you, you started to slowly break, and had to stifle a sob, your arms quickly coming into response to do the same, although your fingers curl into the fabric of her shirt. "...I got broken up with," your small voice comes out.
"Oh...Y/N," she whispers under her breath, putting her chin gently atop your head. Her thumb comfortingly moves at your back, while you just barely felt the brush of a cat's body below you, just against your legs. Then, your mind jumped to conclusions, worrying over being a bother.
"Um...I-- I didn't really know where else to go so I..." You whispered out, your voice strained as a breath of yours got caught on a small sob.
"I went to you..." She can feel your arms tightening around her, your face burying in her chest, and the emotions radiating off you and your words was concerning.
"Its okay, I don't mind," she whispers back softly, her hand fully and slowly running up and down your back than just her thumb. Her heart was aching, to see your trembling body and to hear your quiet crying. She stayed quiet for a small moment, letting you spill your emotions out first.
"What happened?" She asks, wondering how one relationship that she thought you were better off in, ended up only to be with a broken heart.
"I don't know. It was just one text and we're over..." You murmured shakily, sniffling lightly as your voice was slightly muffled from being in her chest. Just like that. Over the phone. Not even on a call. Her lips part in surprise with a small intake of breath, unable to believe how someone could do such a thing to you.
"That's terrible, sweetheart. I'm so sorry," she whispers under her breath, leaning back to cup one of your cheeks with her hand, her thumb gently wiping away your tears. The nickname had slipped through her lips accidentally, but you didn't notice in your emotional catastrophe, although it added a hint more comfort.
"I really thought I found the one..." your voice held pain that transferred to her heart, and she closed her eyes, leaning closer and taking a gentle breath to gather her words.
"I know...I know, shh...it doesn't mean you won't get more chances," she whispers, her hand resting back around your shoulders as she swayed you both slightly as you both still stood at the front of the door.
She then leans back, looking down at you for a moment before giving you a small assuring smile. Her eyes catch a concerned looking Benjamin down at your feet, and her expressions soften further. Then, in decision, she gently slips her hand in yours, pulling you to her bedroom.
"Come here, all the cats are in the bedroom, so you can be more warm and cozy..." she murmurs, taking care in pulling you. Her bedroom had the curtains open, the daylight flooding through and making the room bright. On her bed, her cats are curled up with each other, and Benjamin followed along by jumping onto the bed, adding to the warmthness.
Taylor gently guided you to the bed, sitting on it. Your heavy crying subsided to small hitches of your breath and a trembling lip, the edges of your eyes sheening with wetness of your tears.
You sat beside her, wrapping your arms around her and resting your head against her shoulder. She puts her arm around your shoulders once more, giving you a gentle squeeze to let you know she was there for you.
"I should've known. I haven't gotten any text messages in so long and then...just like that. I mean, what did I do wrong, Tay?" you mumble, turning to bury your face in her shoulder, possibly dampening her shirt sleeve just a little.
She takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, her mind sifting through her thoughts. "Hey," her voice comes out gently, and she leans into you, gazing down at your helpless form.
"Don't say that," she whispers, giving you a shake of her head when you peeked out her shoulder. She almost thought it looked cute, just for a second in this sad moment. Her hand then brushes against your cheek once more, a warming touch against your skin.
"I think you did nothing else but try to give all your love," she says seriously, making sure you kept eye contact with her. Even your hands shook as you tried to keep yourself in control rather than go into another breakdown.
"You didn't get a message back. There was barely any communication for understanding, and that says something about it, Y/N..." she reasons, her hand gliding down to rest at your neck.
Your eyes strained with sadness, and you sniffled, feeling the lump in your throat that you needed to swallow down. "Th-Then...what if no one can actually love me?"
Taylor's eyes widen with small surprise for a moment at your presumption, a reaction you hadn't noticed as you rested your head against her chest, taking comfort in her embrace.
"I mean what if..." your voice was trembling; the sign of your willingness to try and keep talking even while you were fighting back from crying entirely once more. Taylor lets out a breath, her arms tightening around you as her hands tried to keep a soothing motion.
"I just want someone to love me..." you whisper, trailing off as your fingers tighten on Taylor's shirt, taking a deep breath in. But she took her own breath in too, her hammering heart preparing what to say.
"I love you..." She says quietly, looking down as you bit your lip. She waited, but you shook your head gently.
"Yeah, but thats..." you murmur, misunderstanding her meaning as you sighed. She places her hand under your chin, gently tilting your head up to have you look at her.
"Y/N." She says your name, her voice being firm so she could grab your attention and have your full focus. You pause any of your thoughts and words, almost holding your breath as you met her eyes, although you weren't sure if its because she caught your attention or because you had suddenly realized how beautiful her eyes were.
"I love you." She repeats, a little louder than last time, her expression awaiting. You take a moment to process it, almost confused, but then the pieces click together in your mind, and you realize what she meant.
"...What?" You breathe out, letting go of the breath you held, your heartrate increasing as you try to think through it.
She smiles softly at your confusion and surprise. "Not as a friend." she whispers, shaking her head to add to her expression so you'll know she was serious.
Taylor bit her lip, her eyes traveling the bedsheets for a moment before returning back to your eyes. "I...I've been wanting to tell you for so long, and I was really close to, but then you found someone and you seemed so happy, I didn't...I didn't want to ruin it."
You take a deep breath in, quickly already exhaling it, your own eyes lingering on the bedsheets. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." she adds.
"I..." you tried speaking, but words failed you, and even just one letter had your voice trembling as you start, and you simply gaze up at her in hopes that she can just read your mind.
Instead, she took matters into her hands and rubbed her hand up and down your arms. "Deep breaths," she whispers, nodding along when you followed through, and she helped you by guidance too.
"Thats it. Its okay," she murmurs, resting her forehead against yours, still keeping the motion of her hands. You calmed down, no longer having shuddering breaths or hitching from your earlier crying and sobs.
You took one last deep breath, before the exhale turns out into a sigh as you gather your words. "...I'm glad you said it," you breathed out genuinely, gazing up at her and biting your lower lip.
She blinks at you, her eyes searching yours for any type of meanig to deceive. "Really?" she says under her breath, looking at you with just as much vulnerability you were holding.
You nod slowly. "Because, maybe...I do like you too..." you say, almost hesitantly, not lingering on her eyes anymore in fear of anything that could be in them.
She had a little worry and doubt growing in her heart, even though she has your utmost trust, she didn't want you to act on impulse and jump in, being in a vulnerable state after a breakup...she would hate to accidentally be a rebound without meaning to. "You're sure?" She searches for your confirmation again.
A small smile finally starts to raise up on your lips, making her heart skip a beat. She's always loved your smile, but had never admitted it. It was her favorite thing in the world, even if it was a small one.
"I wasn't sure how to deal with it. I didn't want our friendship to end in some way..." you murmur. It suddenly makes sense to her, that maybe you had avoided confessing to her by trying to see if maybe, someone else could capture your heart. But it didn't work, and now your heart was instead shattered into a million pieces.
But, here she was, picking all of them up, one by one, carefully and gently. She was putting your heart back together, and giving you hers, all at the same time.
"I don't want you to...jump in, I know its quick, I..." She trails off when she suddenly feels your lips on hers, meeting softly without rush, but she didn't realize you leaning in until she felt it. It was the softest contact she felt against her lips, and she melted into it, making your heart swell.
"I want to," you whisper, making her know for sure that you knew your feelings fully without doubt or false facts. But you slowly part from the kiss and lean back, breathing out and brushing your hand over her shoulder.
"But I'm scared..." you admitted, deeply gazing at her blue eyes, maybe even getting lost in the clear sea within them. Your thoughts only filled with the stormy skies and uphill battles you've ever gone through.
But she squeezes your sleeve gently, putting you back into reality. "Its okay." she whispers, sliding her hands down to yours to intertwine with your fingers. The person who's been closest to you, your entire life, there wasn't much she didn't know about you.
"We don't have to...rush into it," she says, her thumbs rubbing over your skin. You can feel the warmth radiating from her, and you let out a breath of relief.
"We can take it slow," she assured, giving your hands a squeeze too, keeping her gaze gentle.
"Okay?" she looks into your eyes for confirmation, needing to know you were both on the same agreement and level. Your quietness added to her own worry, but the relief flooding in your heart was needing its little time.
You smile widely, nodding with happiness. "Okay," you answer with sincerity, a spark of hope igniting in your chest. She breathes out a breath she was holding, starting to smile back at you.
"Now, let's cuddle and not think about anything else but cuddling," she mumbles, pulling closer to her, leaning back to get more comfortable, and you gratefully nuzzle your face back into her.
She smiles at the feeling of you snuggling into her, and she gazes down at you adoringly before going down to kiss the top of your head, and nuzzling back into your hair, a gesture that warms your heart tremendously.
The entire world wasn't collapsing after all.
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highlynerdy · 3 months ago
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"I do it because I want to protect him from the world, and sometimes from myself. I want to tell him every secret I ever had, and yet I never want to make him choose, to see the hurt in his eyes, to put this, too, on him. I want-I want so many things. Sometimes, I just want."
Turning The Page by @queerofthedagger / art by @schweetheart
I started this fanARTifact in July 2021 and finally, finally finished it in September 2024. Click below to see so many more pictures and read probably too much about the project.
This project was a LABOR OF LOVE because y'all...I failed so, so many times during the making of it. I had grand dreams of all the things that I was going to do and learn and every single time I tried something it was like the universe telling me to go ahead and go fuck myself, we're not doing that. But it's done and I'm pleased with it. I hope Mona and Schweets are. Let's talk about the process.
I read this story back in July 2021 when it came out and immediately wrote @schweetheart on July 23, 2021 to ask if I could use her art for the back because it was such a crucial part of the story.
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She graciously allowed me to use it, and even sent me a high res file so I could have the portrait of Arthur printed on art paper.
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THEN. My brilliantly stupid self decided that just making the book wasn't enough. I mean, I had already done that for Arthur's journal back in 2020 and I am nothing if not a nutter about learning to do new things, especially for my fanARTifact series.
SO. I'm going to learn to make paper. Yeah. Totally a reasonable escalation in terms of new skills, right?? ......... Nope. I bought a small 5x7 mould and deckle to practice with and some cotton linters to make the pulp. Twas. A. Failure. I didn't have a press or the felts or the sizing needed to make the paper actually, ya know, usable. This was the first time I put the project down for a while.
Moving on to another new skill in late 2021, I decided that I wanted to make the walnut ink myself. Luckily, I was part of a pigment subscription in 2020 (that is a hell of a nerdy statement, even for me) and had all the supplies in my art studio to attempt this endeavor.
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I didn't fail this part! Fucking huzzah for small miracles. Now I had two small bottles of black walnut ink to use for the calligraphy that I wanted to do for some of the excerpts. Except now I was stuck again on the paper making part so I put it back down again for an eternity.
Picking it back up in late 2022, I asked Mr. Highlynerdy to make a custom size mould and deckle for me so I could have long pieces to fold for my signatures. It was his first time doing anything like this but he's a buddy and a pal and gave it a try. Surprising no one if you've read this far, we both failed this part. Even now, I'm still not sure we succeeded but eventually we did get something workable. And considering professional mould and deckles cost in the hundreds of dollars...yeah, it'll do.
It took a hot ass minute for me to feel ready to attempt the paper making again but once I was ready, I ordered wet, pre-beaten pulp from Twinrocker. A very curt man on the phone helped me figure out what I needed and added internal sizing to the pulp I ordered. I didn't take pictures of any of the paper stuff because it was very messy and annoying. Once again, Mr. Highlynerdy helped me rig up a drying box with tri-wall cardboard and ratchet straps and a box fan. Once the paper was dry, I used a gelatin mixture to paint on external sizing. Since I'm primarily a painter, I needed the paper to be able to handle ink, paint, pencil. Sizing paper is the only way to do this, but no worries, I won't go further into the nerdy details about this.
Once the paper was ready, I decided to sew the text block. Here's another part where I failed YET A-FUCKING-GAIN. I talked before on Arthur's Journal post about how books were very, very rare in the 6th century (Arthurian period), but BBC Merlin is soooooo anachronistic that it's fiiiiiine to just do what I wanted. HOWEVER. I did want to try to do visible spine binding. But. Unfortunately I had gone ahead and used all of my paper to bind the text block as if I was going to case it in. FUUUUUUUCCCCCK. It's fine. We're fine. Come on, brain. What can we do.
Well, what we CAN'T do is use a piece of leather from my large remnant that I bought for my first journal because someone - FUCKING ME - measured and cut the last piece NOT TAKING INTO ACCOUNT THE WIDTH of the text block. So now it doesn't fit. And refusing to buy a new piece of leather I'm forced to pivot once again.
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I decided to cut the leather spine even shorter, buy some wood pieces and sand them, paint them a matte black, and then glue the leather to those pieces. Cool cool cool. We're moving on. I tested a lot of different glues for this and good ol' super glue ended up being the clear winner. Cue putting this project away again for a whiiiillle.
In October 2023, I decided to pull it out again and do the calligraphy and drawings I wanted. This story has so many gorgeous parts but I finally decided on the first page, the last page, and the page about Gaius.
I mixed my handmade walnut ink with my beloved Finetec gold and used the quills I bought from John Neal Booksellers to practice my Uncial. I shouldn't have been rusty after lettering an entire fic for this fanARTifact, but I was.
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The little dragon was inspired by medieval manuscript dragons I found.
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Narratively, I loved the idea that Merlin's writing would start off soft and delicate and become stronger by the end of the journal. Also, I loved that the end word "WANT" would be just gold because the ink blend changes throughout. Something magical or whatever.
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This part needed tears. They might have been real ones...
Annnnnnnnd, the project was put down again until a few days ago when I decided, after getting back into Merlin fic, I needed to buck up and finish it.
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I did so many tests for the cover. I tried embossing, carving, and debossing and hated all of them. I settled on painting it with acrylic paints in the shape of a Celtic knot sort of pattern. I originally wanted to do a triskelion but after reading a bit about how some asshole groups have co-opted the symbol for shitty purposes, I decided against it. It's a mix of black and gold and it's hard to capture the depth of it through photos...eh, I did what I could.
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Still. Something wasn't quite working with the brown leather and the black covers with the new symbol so I broke out my matte black leather paint and decided to go all black.
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All I had left to do was glue in the text block and it would be done! And that still took me a few days to work up the courage. The book opens nice and flat, which will be good for me as I will use it as a sketchbook.
Sitting here, on September 1st, I have completed a project that taught me many new skills and also taught me a lot about humility and perseverance. There was no way I was going to abandon this project, and maybe I should have started over many of the times, but I am quite in love with the final result and I just hope that it does it's inspiration proud. Thank you @queerofthedagger Mona for all you create and share with the Merlin fandom, and thank you @schweetheart for allowing me to use your gorgeous art.
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Also, you may see quite a few other fanARTifacts in this photoshoot because I will use any opportunity to show them off lol.
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If you read to the end of this, you deserve a cocktail and a cookie. Thank you. 💛✨✨
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kolyubov · 11 months ago
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Hello :D I would like to request an application for Sigma HCs with a reader where they both have their first time in marriage. I think it's kind of cute and romantic and I haven't seen anything like it before about Sigma. I don't know if you think this qualifies as "very personal and uncomfortable", and if it does, please excuse me and ignore my request.
hi, nonnie! this is not uncomfy for me at all, in fact, I find it pretty romantic as well (ꈍᴗꈍ)
if I'm not mistaken you mean the first time having sex/making love? I apologize if I misunderstood.
First time with Sigma!
✧ contents. nsfw, creampie (unprotected sex).
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After the wedding party, I think both Sigma and you are tired and need to spend the night in each other's arms, cuddling and talking… and eventually making love<3
Sigma needs to take things slow! after all, this first time needs to be something special; slow making out entangled together, moaning into each other's mouths.
I headcanon Sigma as very sensitive, so a few kisses on his neck and moaning in his ear would make him hard instantly. He loves you so much that his body reacts on his own :((
He would slowly remove your clothing until you're lying on the bed with a cute white lingerie set that makes his cock twitch inside his pants.
(If you remove his clothes, he'll look at you with puppy eyes full of adoration).
Sigma would press kisses from your throat down to your cleavage, your ribs, your tummy, and finally to your navel before pushing the fabric of your lacy panties aside and kiss your bare pussy while looking up at you.
Of course, he needs to prepare you for what's to come, and what's better than his fingers?
“Angel, could you please open up?”
He'll say before sliding two fingers past your lips, coating them with your saliva then slipping them inside your hole slowly, making sure he's not hurting you or anything.
You could probably feel the wedding ring against your entrance as he pumps his fingers in and out, using his thumb to draw slow circles on your clit.
Once you're wet enough, he'll remove your panties and his boxers (already stained with pre-cum) and spread your legs a bit more before kissing your forehead.
“Tell me if it hurts, yes?”
After seeing you nod, he'll grab his cock and align it with your entrance— the tightness of your walls surrounding half of his shaft is enough to make him whimper softly.
“God… darling, please, take a deep breath, it'll hurt just for a brief second. I promise.”
Sigma smiles at you before linking your fingers together and kissing your lips as he shoves his cock all the way inside.
“Fuck… Oh my goodness… You feel so good, love.”
Sigma is definitely going to ask for permission before moving, then he's going to start with slow thrusts.
Panics a bit when he sees a little blood but then he remembers it's completely normal and goes back to work.
Even when you adjust to his cock, he won't stop asking if you're okay, and he'll tell you that he can stop at any moment.
He'll kiss you a lot, wherever he can reach. He wants to worship your body completely; squeezing your hips, caressing your thighs, kissing your neck.
Your pleasure is important to him too, so when he's close to cumming he'll rub your clit with his thumb so you two can finish together.
“I'm close, princess… let me fill you up, please please please—”
Creampie. First time with a creampie.
(From that day on Sigma is in love with creampies<3)
The afterward it's just him telling you how good you've done, how pretty you are, and how much he loves you and pampering kisses and cuddling with you until you both fall asleep.
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© 2024 pinklacydovey
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lanawinterscigarettes · 2 months ago
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omg...i saw ur kinktober thing and had to request 😇 there are not many fics of john bender (breakfast club) and i am DYING 4 some so....maybe a hand kink thing? like the reader really likes his hands and maybe praises/kisses/stares at them a lot and he catches on pretty quickly and gets all cocky abt it. that's. all 💖THANK YOU
thanks for the kinktober request! I'm obsessed with this prompt omg 🫣 and you're so right, there really isn't enough fics with him which is a shame because damn is he fine
Kinktober 2024 Day 3: John Bender with a gn reader who has a hand kink
Warnings: smut/nsfw content, hand kink, John is a cocky bastard, not really dom/sub dynamics but the reader does act a little desperate and pathetic here (sorry I couldn't resist), smoking (both cigarettes and weed), swearing, quickie/sexual activites done under the influence
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It all started with a cigarette. Detention was dull as usual, and you were content to just sleep through the entire thing when Bender caught your attention.
"You're going to get into trouble if Vernon catches you smoking in here, you know," you pointed out as you watched him pull a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his coat pocket.
"Oh, please. I'm always in trouble, and you know it."
You opened your mouth to speak again, intending fully on giving a snarky retort meant to put him back in his place, but you found your words dying down in your throat the second your eyes locked onto his hands.
Swallowing thickly, you tried not to salivate at the mere sight of him lighting up a cigarette. Even after he put the lighter back down, your gaze stayed trained on his hands, silently observing the way he tapped the ash from the cigarette onto the floor.
"What's your problem?"
His voice quickly snapped you back into reality. You forced yourself to look away, trying to act casual and unbothered. "I don't have a problem, you have a problem," you muttered childishly under your breath in response.
Bender smirked as he watched you try to play it off. He didn't know what had you suddenly acting all flustered, but it amused him to no end. "Want a drag?" He questioned as he held out the cigarette in your direction.
"Oh, what the hell. Sure." You took the lit cigarette from him, your hand lingering in the air for a moment when your fingers brushed against his. Clearing your throat, you quickly looked away as you puffed on the cigarette.
You could tell that he was staring, but you were determined not to let it get to you. Once you were done with it, you handed the cigarette back to him, looking down while you did so. You tried to convince yourself that his hand brushing against yours for a second time was just an accident, but you both knew better.
While he obviously had his suspicions, he didn't know for sure what had turned you into such an adorable mess, and he didn't find out until much later, during one night when he decided to sneak in through your window.
"You're not smoking in here, John," you firmly stated when you saw him pull out a lighter after flopping down onto your bed.
"Relax, it's weed, not cigarettes." He chuckled at the way your eyes grew wide.
"That's worse! I don't want my parents to catch me getting high with some random delinquent."
"Aw, sweets, you're breaking my heart," he sighed in a sarcastic, overly dramatic tone as he started to roll a blunt. "Relax, it'll be fine. All you have to do is leave the window open for a couple of hours to air out the smell."
You wanted to chastise him, but you were much too enthralled in studying the way his hands moved.
Looking up, he gave you an arrogant smirk and asked, "See something you like?"
"Shut up," you mumbled as you gave him a slight pout. "I- I just like watching you do stuff with your hands, okay? They're really pretty."
"Mmhm." Bender let out a hum in acknowledgement at your words as he finished rolling the blunt. "There we go, all done. You can have the first hit if you're not too busy drooling over my hands to do it properly."
You gave him a light shove in response to his teasing. "I said shut up, John."
He merely snickered at your reaction, appearing unfazed when you shoved him. "What? It's the truth."
A blunt and a half later, the two of you were lounging on your bed. He was still puffing away while you sat curled up in his arms, admiring his hands again.
"They're just so pretty," you cooed in an affectionate tone of voice, the weed having fully kicked in by this point. He let out a slight chuckle while you took his free hand into yours, tracing your fingertips over the back of it as you stared in amazement.
"You know, I'd say someone has a little crush on me," he joked as he set the blunt down on your nightstand. "Or on my hands, at the very least."
You didn't say anything in reply, too busy pressing soft kisses to his fingers. "So pretty."
"Yeah? You think that they're pretty?" He was purposely trying to rile you up at this point, trying to see just how far you'd go in praising them when you were under the influence and not held back by your better judgement.
"Mmhm, I think that they're really pretty." You moved your lips from his fingers down to the center of his palm, gently nuzzling against the area as you placed kisses there.
It was hard for Bender not to act out on the sudden onslaught of unholy thoughts that emerged in his mind upon watching you worship his hands right before him. He shifted some in his spot on the bed, trying to ignore the shiver that went all the way down his spine and ended up in his pants.
"If you think they're pretty now, you should see what they can do under the covers." The words escaped from his mouth before he could stop them, but he couldn't exactly say he regretted it.
You merely giggled, seemingly amused by his suggestion, which he was pretty sure had something to do with the weed in your system. "I bet they'd be even prettier in action," you purred out in turn, nuzzling your face into his palm again before giving it another soft kiss.
He let out a low groan, moving his free hand to rest on your thigh as he pulled you closer onto his lap. "Careful, sweets. You keep that up, you might make me do something I'll regret," he muttered as he watched you.
"I think you know neither one of us would regret something like that happening," you replied with a cheeky grin as you looked up at him, shifting in his lap some.
All of the blood is his body seemed to rush downwards at that one simple action. His grip on your thigh tightened, causing you to moan.
"You know how hot you are, John. It's just not fair." The pout on your face as you spoke caused him to let out a laugh.
"Oh, yeah?" He pressed his chest to your back as he leaned in, tilting his head to leave a few teasing kisses on your neck.
"Yeah." It was hard for you to focus on speaking when he kissed you, but you were paying more attention to the way his hand was resting on your thigh anyway.
"Maybe I do. Maybe I think that it's cute just how worked up you get by a few brief touches alone." He moved his hand a little bit lower, brushing the tips of his fingers over the front of your pants. "Maybe I should make you beg for it."
The moan you let out brought a cocky smirk to his face. "You're doing this on purpose," you lightly complained while tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder, exposing more of your neck to him. He took the opportunity to drag his lips along your throat, softly kissing the area.
"Tell me how badly you want it," he demanded in a low whisper, his mouth right next to your ear as he spoke. You could feel how hard he was, the evidence of his own growing arousal currently being pressed against your ass.
"So badly," you breathed out in a hushed voice, your hand moving to rest on top of his as you tried to coax his fingers to touch you some more. "I- I need you, John. You know that."
Satisfied with your response, he allowed you to direct his hand further downwards, his fingers lightly dragging over your clothed sex. There was an unmistakable heat currently pooling between your thighs, one that let him know that his teasing was working.
You bit your lip to hold back a moan, acutely aware that your parents' room was just down the hall. The more he touched you, the more you shifted in his lap, which did nothing but rile him up even further.
"I'll make sure to be quick about it so you won't have to worry about your parents catching you in bed with a delinquent like me," he muttered next to your ear, his voice low and raspy.
It was a good thing your house didn't have thin walls, otherwise you had no doubt they'd be able to hear the creaking of your bed mixed in with the lewd noises the two of you were making.
"J- John, I- I think I'm getting close-" You warned, gripping onto his arm as a method to help keep you grounded as your hips repeatedly jolted forward into his hand.
"Shit, me too-" He used his free hand to turn your face so he could kiss you, both of your sounds of ecstacy getting swallowed by each others mouths so they wouldn't be overheard.
The room fell silent shortly after, your combined panting being the only thing that cut through the blissful aftermath of your orgasms. Your underwear felt sticky and wet, and you were certain his did, too, but you were still too high to worry about changing at the moment.
"We have to do that again some time," you mumbled in a tired voice as you moved around in his lap, curling up next to him. If you hadn't been so exhausted, the feeling of his hand holding onto your waist as he wrapped his arms around you would've been enough to get you ready for a second round.
"Of course we're going to do it again. We both know you can't resist me and my pretty hands," Bender replied in a proud tone, a cocky smirk on his face.
For once, you didn't protest. He was right, of course. You never could resist those pretty hands of his.
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Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open
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lifebeginsbyleaving · 1 month ago
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The Cards We're Dealt
A.N. This is for sterek week. @sterekweek-2024 Prompts tarot cards and dealer's choice (the second one I definitely took too literally lol) Hope you enjoy! :) Oh and this is only part one, part two is hopefully out tomorrow.
Word count: 9,668
***
Whether you play fast and loose, bet it all, or are simply looking for an answer the cards always deal their own fate. 
Derek knows there's no such thing as luck. 
Stiles knows there's no use in trying to change fate. Derek has been a dealer for long enough to have learned the house always wins, but even try as he might to find some trick behind Stiles' tarot reading his warnings ring true and he can't see a single tell in his eyes. 
Stiles' fingers have always found the right card, but what if this tangle with fate is less about reading it and more about following it.
Sometimes you just have to play the hand you're dealt, even if you pull the death card for your future.
****
The table creaked and thudded as it ominously rocked back and forth, the candles flickered in the chilly gusts of wind, the table cloth rustled delicately as the various strings of beads harshly swung and jangled together. Stiles' eyes were rolling back into his head as his nails harshly dug into the plush velvet table. 
"She has a message for you." Stiles gasped out as if he was being choked, his voice strained. The veins on his neck bulged to the point of almost being able to see his heartbeat. 
The man had wide fearful eyes filled with tears and yet he sounded hopeful when he pleaded, "Yes, yes? What is it?!" He was crumpling the brochure that Stiles had given him at the beginning of the reading with trembling hands. 
"Sh-she says, she misses you. And she doesn't want- d-doesn't want you to... To worry. And she told me to tell you how much she loves you." Stiles gasped in a big breath at the end of his sentence and his eyes were starting to come back into focus as the tension slowly was leaving his nails. 
"Wait!  She didn't say anything else?" 
Stiles not only rolled his eyes back into his head with a jolt, but also rolled them sarcastically in his head. "She- oh no I think I'm going to lose her! Wait, no- She says add more spices. Double the amount of cumin and it'll taste like her recipe." Finally Stiles let all the tension over his entire body go and he collapsed forward on to the table. 
The man was freely weeping now. "Oh thank you! Oh thank you! You don't know what you've done for me!" The man reached over to vigorously shake Stiles' hand once he had perked up a bit. 
Stiles mopped some sweat from his brow. "Yes. It is so very draining, but my exhausting work must be done to help lost souls just like you." Stiles hated this part, why couldn't they just pay and leave. "It's not often I get such a strong connection." Stiles faked a loud yawn. "I get so tired after channeling a spirit as wonderful and filled with love such as your grandmother." 
The man came back to himself a bit before he replied, "Yes, of course. I should let you rest. You said one fifty?" 
Stiles nodded and added a tired slow blink as he yawned out, "Tips are always appreciated."
The man looked down at his Versace wallet and pulled out two crisp one hundred dollar bills. "Thank you so much The Magnificent Mieczyslaw." 
Stiles inwardly cringed as the man butchered the name. "Mitch is just fine." 
The man smiled and once again wrestled Stiles' hand into something more akin to someone fighting a snake to the death rather than a hand shake. "Thank you. The Magnificent Mitch. I just needed her to tell me she was okay." The man looked over his shoulder twice and each time Stiles waved vigorously while yawning. 
Finally Stiles let out a sigh after hearing the bell to his shop ring. He reached over to grab his tea from the side table to move it on to the one in front of him. As he took a sip he grimaced at the cold temperature. The man had blathered on endlessly about his ninety-four year old grandmother. Stiles decided to put his cards back in order then go make a fresh cup. He shuffled them mindlessly when two cards fell before him. He picked them up ready to shove them in the pack with the rest when he noticed they were both major arcana. 
The Lovers card was absolutely beautiful. It was drawn in a dreamlike summer haze of a scene. A calm peaceful forest with two sapling trees grew intertwined in front of a calm lake, and in the lake a lover gently held his beloved up letting her float looking at the clouds above. His bright red shirt and her electric blue eyes pulled focus from the other softer elements, but the two running wolf shaped clouds she was staring out could still be discerned if you stared long enough. 
Stiles' eyes barely widened, but the shock still pulled the tender smile from his face as he stared into the steely red gaze of The Devil card. It had gnarled twisted horns and its mouth was open in a scream of anger as the teeth and fangs jutted this way and that.  The card seemed to have a sense of motion from the way its saliva trailed midair all the way back to where its head was thrown back maw open wide. Its throat and jaw was tensed with such a strength Stiles' rubbed his own and he couldn't tell if it was subconsciously because he winced in sympathetic pain, or if he was trying to protect his own skin. The claws on this nightmare seemed more powerful than sharp, they didn't come to a cartoonish point. They did however, remind him of when he'd heard someone say that a sharp knife will cut through skin like butter, but a dull one will tear and gouge out the flesh ripping the sinew out of place instead of snipping. Streets were ablaze behind this behemoth and charred bodies laid all around. 
Stiles jolted out of the world of the card as he felt a sinking in his chest and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He regained himself and breathed in and out to center himself before calling out, "Would you like for me to pull you some cards? See what your fate has for you?" 
There was a silent pause. 
Stiles sighed and muttered under his breath, "Other than skulking around." He increased his volume so the stranger could hear, "And not using my front door, which is quite rude you know." Stiles heard the curtain that separated the waiting area from the back rustle open. 
"We did use the front door. And I wasn't skulking." 
Stiles flung his gaze back up carelessly to where the stranger was entering and his jaw promptly dropped the retort he had prepared rolling out of both his mind and mouth. Standing in front of him was the most gorgeous man Stiles had ever seen. He was sharply dressed in a double breasted black peacoat and tan slacks, but his shoes matched his coat's shiny black buttons. His beard was very well taken care of and short enough it had to be a bitch to maintain. His hair was neatly groomed into a close fade on the sides while the top was a bit longer. Stiles got the sense it was just on that borderline where it was long enough a couple strands would delicately flop down and the man's strong looking fingers would have to comb through it to get it back into place. Stiles wanted to volunteer to help next time it happened, or at the very least feel those fingers himself. His mind flailed for something to say as the man entered his tent. "Actually you can come in my back door." 
The stranger's face scrunched up into some unpleasant emotion that Stiles couldn't figure out as he was busy processing what had come out of his mouth. "Wow I'm glad you try and hit on your clients before they reveal how broken and vulnerable they are and don't just wait until after you take their money." 
"Oh. God. That was out loud. I said that out loud with my mouth hole." Stiles was mortified. 
Stiles was just about to cover his face in shame when a man he did recognize came in right behind the stranger. "Now boys, please at least let me introduce you both before you jump each other. Stiles, this is my nephew Derek. Derek, this charmer is Stiles." 
Peter was often in need of his services and at least a third of the reason he could even afford to get the shop. He didn't need to be offending one of his clients with the deepest pockets. Peter took his family's money and used it to open a casino and happened to hit it big. He also had the most fortunate habit of getting in the sort of trouble Stiles' skills knew how to solve.  "Peter, I told you if you ever need an appointment you can call. I hope you didn't wait long. I would've cleared the day for you." Stiles tried to recollect his composure and professionalism. 
Peter swanned in and plopped gracefully down in a chair like he always did, but this time he chose the one more off to the side instead of directly in front of Stiles before he replied, "Nonsense. Besides, I wanted Derek to see what you can do." 
The stranger, Derek, scoffed, "Right. It was so important for me to see that poor sucker get scammed worse than people taking their pictures with the characters on the strip." 
It was Stiles' turn to scoff. "I helped him." 
Derek raised an eyebrow, "By scamming him using his dead grandmother? That's pretty low if you ask me. If you'd ever lost anyone you'd know what it's like to want to give anything you have just to hear from them one last time." Derek turned towards Peter before speaking again, "This guy? You brought me to this hack for help?" 
Derek went to walk out of the tent but Stiles interrupted his gait with an irritated tone, "I did help him." 
Derek turned around and crossed his arms right in front of the opening. "How do you figure? By taking his money? Fooling him?" 
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yes dumbass. Look, that man didn't need me to tell him about how he just needs to move on and not be so desperate. He needed to believe in magic for a moment, to hear from his grandmother. He certainly didn't need the money, but he did need to feel like she was safe and passed on okay. He needed that so he could feel okay. Believe, don't believe it doesn't matter. What matters is that he can sleep at night." 
Derek had softened his posture some, but his arms stayed resolutely crossed. "Can you? Knowing you lie and take their money?" 
This was the easiest question he answered all the time. "Yes. Because if I have the choice between lying to someone about someone who has passed or a decision they had to make to ease their pain a little, or telling them the ugly truth that only hurts I'm going to make them feel better. Besides, only the people that want to feel better come to me." 
Stiles looked at Peter's shit eating grin. Stiles squinted at Peter. There was something in the way Peter was looking at Derek that made Stiles feel like he was missing something. Stiles turned his eyes back to Derek and looked him up and down this time with what Scott and his clients called his 'other gaze', but it was really just him looking for clues. Derek tapped his finger against his bicep while he stared down Stiles' intent searching. 
Stiles finally felt like he grasped what Peter was smirking about. "And where do you work?" 
It was the first time Stiles felt like he caught Derek on the off foot. His eyes went steely and his jaw clenched, it made the muscle in his neck clench. Stiles wanted to lick it. Derek spat out, "I hardly see how that matters." 
Stiles grinned. "Oh what do we have here, hmmm?" Stiles tapped his own cheek, he enjoyed making Derek squirm immensely. "A partner or just a spoiled rich kid living off of family money would make you complicit enough, but no it's deeper than that. Not a bartender, you'd get hit on too much and murder someone." Derek narrowed his eyes, but Peter was gleaming with glee. "You don't seem like the behind the scenes number crunching type, and with a face like that it'd be a crime. No you're up close and dirty." Even with him standing across the room and Peter still there Stiles liked the effect he could barely tell he was having on Derek. "Oh no, please tell me-" Stiles didn't even try to stifle his laugh. "You're trying to lecture me about morals and taking advantage of people when they're down and you're a fucking dealer at your family's casino?" 
Derek's face turned sour and Stiles let out a belly laugh. Peter even chuckled slightly. Derek uncrossed his arms and kept his clenched fists by his sides as he stalked closer. He leaned over the table and felt the heat from the candle streaming up to his chin. "I don't use people's dead families to get a buck." 
Stiles sobered at that cutting remark. "No. You use their alive ones." Stiles interrupted Derek's attempt at a rebuttal, "Oh come on, how many 'just one more hand' men walk up to your table leaving behind little girls asking for ponies and wives just begging to not take the money that puts food on the table? How many elderly women are just looking for someone to talk to and something to do and instead gamble away their grandkids college or trusts? I won't pretend like either of us don't take money from vulnerable people, but can we both agree that they're willing to give it. And in a lot of cases they need to give it, even if it only helps temporarily." Stiles tilted his head and raised his eyebrows looking for some form of agreement from the other man. 
Derek merely squinted his eyes and leaned back upright. 
Stiles, ever the bigger person, would accept that. Also he literally couldn't afford to lose Peter as a client. "Now how can I be of service?" He pointedly looked away from Derek and to Peter. 
Peter shrugged and motioned back to Derek. "It's his problem, his story. As much as I love talking with you Stiles." Peter put a hand over his heart. 
That made Stiles smile and roll his eyes considering the first time Peter and him had talked it went much worse than this. Stiles had stabbed him. Stiles looked back at Derek.
A moment of silence later Stiles grabbed for his cards. "How about I give you a free reading to break the ice." 
Derek huffed and crossed his arms again. 
Stiles groaned out, "Oh come on tall, dark, and broody! If Peter brought you here it doesn't matter how much of a hack you think I am, I can help. Sit down and let me read you, then we can move on to giving you the help you so desperately need." 
Derek reluctantly flung the chair back and slammed down into it while making a gesture that Stiles chose to interpret as, 'Oh please help me! Take all the time you need. You're so gracious.' instead of it's more probable meaning of, 'Let's get this over with.'
Stiles began shuffling the cards and took a deep breath to focus and Derek rolled his eyes. 
Stiles huffed out, "Dude, come on. This isn't going to help anyone if you can't even get over the way I breathe." 
Derek started to unbutton his coat. "I just don't think someone holding the key to my future would say dude like a teenager playing Fortnite." 
Stiles got a lot of flack for not being an eighty year old Romani woman so he let it go while doing a couple regular and then reverse shuffles. He slid out the cards in front of Derek in one swift move. 
"I know that trick too." If Derek could look more unimpressed it would surely be record breaking. 
Stiles' head fell to the table and then he whipped it back up to glare at Peter. "God, why did you even bring him here he's such an asshole!" 
Stiles muttered mostly to himself, "That's not even my trick yet." When he turned back to Derek he looked a bit shocked at Stiles' outburst. Almost as if he'd never been called an asshole before, but Stiles knew without a shadow of a doubt that wasn't true. 
"Pick three." Stiles crossed his arms as Derek draped his coat over the back of his chair. 
"Do I have to think about it?" Derek still looked like he'd rather be stepping in dog poop right about now. 
"Nothing so strenuous. Wouldn't want to wrinkle those eyebrows anymore than they already are. Just choose. The cards will call to you." 
Another eyeroll and Derek snatched out three random cards. 
He was about to turn them over when Stiles interjected, "Oh wait, no don't turn them over. That's for me to do." 
Derek stared flatly before setting the card back down.  
"This is just your basic past, present, future spread to get you started." Stiles flipped over the first card. "I'm sure pop culture hasn't failed you so much that you don't know we start with your past." Stiles looked at the card and grimaced. There was a man pierced nine times with swords pinning him down to the ground and another blade jutting up through his heart. The sword blade side pointing to the sky through the body was the only one that had a curved shaft, much like a scimitar. Ten different swords at all angles each causing the anguished look on his face. The battlefield beneath him was more blood than grass, however from the top of the hill his body rested on past all the blazing bodies you could see a vibrant sunrise off in the distance. The man's long limp hand was still gripping the sword stabbed into his heart as if trying to undo the damage done. 
"So do I have to read my own tarot, or are you going to get to it sometime today?" Derek snarked. 
Stiles blew air through his nose at him and started to speak, "Ten of swords. This is a card that shows not just pain, but utter devastation. I'm sorry for all that you've gone through. I can only ima-" 
"You've met Peter before. The family fire was all over the newspapers, only one search away. If you want to use my dead family to trick me you're going to have to try harder." His tone was sharp and cold even as he tried for flippant and his eyes shot icicles directly at him. Derek twitched like he might leave based on Stiles' response. 
Stiles looked to Peter almost as if he was asking permission. Peter nodded. "Do it Stiles." 
Derek hated being looked at with pity, but at least for once he didn't think it was because of his dead family. Stiles almost looked like he was pitying him for what he was about to say. 
"Swords in general mean pain, loss, suffering. The ten in particular means hitting bottom, destruction, failure, feeling stabbed in the back. It can mean betrayal by those closest to you. In your past you were betrayed and it caused the worst day of your life. Your downfall came from your heart and the very one you trusted to safeguard all that was precious to you drove it to ruin instead." Stiles paused to look up at Derek. 
If his earlier demeanor had been chilly icicles now his gaze turned to thawed spring pools. He wasn't on guard anymore, but it was just as dangerous. The vast changing depth of the emotion showed in Derek's eyes made Stiles want to dive in till he drowned. He had never had a reading feel like this before. Something about Derek's eyes felt like he was being read right back, every tell every twitch being examined. Just as easily as the warmth had shown itself it was gone. 
Stiles continued, "But a lot of the swords cards portray loss and defeat. The ten of swords is more specific. It can mean new horizons, it can mean a fresh hope, and the end of a cycle. Ten specifically is the darkest hour before dawn has come. This card tells me you're ready to move on, never forget, but to move forward and truly honor those you've lost by living the way they would want you to." 
Derek had a sharp retort that he wanted to fling back at Stiles but it died on his tongue. No one knew about Kate, except Peter, and he wouldn't be calmly reading a magazine to the side if Stiles had just blurted out that he told him. Maybe a year ago or hell even a few months ago he would've bitten Stiles' head off and stormed out, but he'd been calmer since he moved back to Beacon Hills. The job and being close to Peter and Cora had helped. He knew Laura was just a phone call away and he'd always be grateful for his time with her in New York afterwards, but Beacon Hills was his home. He knew that deep down in his bones even if he didn't quite feel at home just yet. 
"Read the next card." Derek demanded.
Stiles was already flipping it over. There was a group of young saplings in a field. It looked as if a great storm had passed through, branches were strewn about the ground and even some of the trees uprooted.  "Your present. The page of wands, but it was drawn in reverse. This can represent strangers thrust into our lives. Often with the pages cards it has to do with some sort of mentorship or student, learning or growth in some capacity. Drawing it in reverse means something has gone wrong with this apprenticeship. Sometimes a reversed page means foolhardiness, recklessness, or even impulsivity. You're dealing with a situation that is causing you much strife and worry. The trees you've planted have been uprooted or thrashed in some way and you fear it is your fault. This card seeks to tell you it isn't your fault, but still your responsibility. You planted the seeds and tended to them, but you cannot control the storms that come, and even more difficult to accept, you cannot weather them for your pupils." Derek's face was an unreadable wall that made even Stiles question if he was way off. "Do you have anyone you're mentoring right now, or someone who has aligned with your path only to stray." 
Derek replied with no emotion. "You could say that." 
His indifference pissed Stiles off. He was really trying here and this dude couldn't care less. He was going to have to have a talk with Peter about bringing in hot men that were determined to look at him like the dirt under his shoe. Stiles trudged on, "Okay, final card. The moon. Huh, well that sucks." 
Derek leaned in and asked quickly, "What? Why does that suck?" 
A little part of him felt the victory in that, but he shoved it down knowing Derek would leave if Stiles showed that he thought he had won. 
"It sucks because it's an elusive card. It's hard to get an answer out of a moon card. The future is still fluctuating for you." Stiles picked up the card to study it closer. The most prominent thing in the card was of course the moon, but there was a smaller moon reflected in a river. The flow of the river bisected the card on one side there was a family camping next to a roaring campfire and on the other a solitary wolf with red eyes. There was a harsh breeze blowing through the woods on the side of the wolf, but a raven was gently gliding in the canopy above the joyful family. This card confused him, and that rarely happened when he did an actual reading. 
Stiles attempted to pull it all together. "There are a lot of female moon goddesses, this card can hint at women's health, and cycles. All in all this can be a very feminine card, maybe a mysterious or obscured from you woman is trying to warn you or lie to you. I don't know. This card also represents cycles, what we begin we are doomed to repeat, but also that good and evil, dark and light never truly go away they just have phases. There are dark sides to the moon, but also a brightness that we must remember isn't always the time to grasp for just yet." 
Derek's arms crossed once again. "A woman that is either trying to help me or lie to me? So you're just seeing a woman in my future, you don't know jack shit about what she's actually there to do?" 
Stiles huffed. "Look, it's difficult sometimes." He studied all three cards this time looking to unlock the final one. "It's a major arcana so it's important. Look, see? The ten of swords is an elemental card of air, but the battlefield was covered in fire. The page of wands is an elemental card of fire, but the trees were bashed by wind. That could hint towards the feedback loop of your past and present, your inability to let go. Then the moon card is water based, in this card there remains the elements of wind, moving the trees and fire in the campsite, but water takes up a majority of the space. Water is cleansing, healing, restorative. There is the destruction and pain of the fire present as well as the change and motion of wind, but for your future it's important to stay mailable and looking to where the river takes you, not where it's been. There's two sides to this card one holding elements of your past card and one holding present. This could imply that sooner rather than later you're going to have to make a choice between the two. The lone wolf poses a danger to the family and the family poses a danger to the lone wolf. One must triumph over the other, but the moon does not tell me which choice you make. It only tells me that you and you alone must choose." 
Derek soaked all of the confusing information in. "So I assume the family around the fire represents my past, and the lone wolf my present?" 
Stiles considered it before answering. "Not necessarily, it could mean the opposite. Remember your past card was air element like the wind above the lone wolf, and then your present was fire element. Also there's a raven in the corner above the family. Raven's represent many things across cultures. Absolute power in Nordic traditions due to their allegiance with Odin, they became a very prominent harbinger of death and murder in the victorian era, and in many cultures represent occult and the knowledge it holds." 
"So which is the bird in this case?" Derek asked. 
Stiles looked very somber for a moment before replying in a serious tone. "I've already given you the answer." Stiles dropped the mystic act and cocked a brow at him. "What part of your future is fucking elusive bro and I don't know didn't register with you." 
Derek's mouth gaped in shock. He banged the table and thrust out an open palm towards Stiles. "This is literally your job!" He looked towards Peter. "You're paying him to talk like this to you?!" 
Peter chuckled. "No, right now I'm paying him to talk like this to you."
Derek pulled both of his hands towards his face to cover them with a harsh slap. The moon card had fluttered over onto it's backside with the frenetic movement. 
Stiles quirked his lips at the card and squinted his eyes. He flipped it back over gently.
It was like a completely different card. The moon still hung prominent, but instead of a bright blue river it was stained red. Equally the wolf's previously crimson eyes had turned blue and instead of the pensive look the wolf's maw was lifted in what looked like a baleful howl. The wind was still in the trees. The family was nowhere in sight around the campfire which had turned to just embers. A crossbow bolt held the raven against a great oak tree as its blood seeped down the trunk. The blood trail lead to the river. Stiles didn't know if it was just harder to see the silver against the shiny blue water that was there before, but he hadn't seen the sword at the river bed before. A long curved blade rested at the bottom of the blood stained water taking all of the focus the moon had held before. 
Derek put his palms on the table to push himself up. His chair made an awful noise as it was pushed back. "I'm done with this. You had me for a second, but you lost me." 
Peter started to protest, but before he could get anything out Stiles' hand whipped out and grabbed one of Derek's wrists where it was pulling away from the table. Stiles spoke hoarsely. "Derek. Look at the card." 
Derek's eyes moved in-between Stiles' eyes and where he gripped his wrist. When he saw that he wasn't taking his hand off he huffed and contemplated prying off his fingers. For such a scrawny dude he had quite the grip. Derek bit the bullet and just looked down. He frowned at the changed card. 
Stiles removed his hand to move his past and future cards closer together. He pointed out the heart sword and then the one at the bottom of the river, the same sword. "Derek she's back." 
That seemed to rattle Derek, because the surprise when he looked back up to Stiles was plainly written on his face. Stiles' eyes had glossed over with a milky white moving haze. "She's coming and she will kill them. I sent you the bird. Don't be a featherbrain." 
If surprise was on his face before, now Derek's face showed utter shock. "How did you know that?!" 
Stiles' eyes slowly went from milkshake back to whiskey and with one final blink he was back in control with the moment. "Your mother. She used to call you that sometimes because when you were five you got really angry and called her a feather brain instead of bird brain. It was one of her favorite memories of you." Stiles smiled softly. "She was beautiful." 
Derek looked distrustful even still. "How did you-"
"Do that? Know that? I didn't. When you're as sensitive as I am to divination magic something as simple as telling someone's fortune can bring to life spirits around them that haven't passed on full or are pulled back."
Derek's face showed sorrow. "My mother hasn't passed on fully?" 
There was that pity written all over Stiles' face again. "You think you're the only one that pays the price for the pain you can't let go of? Mercy isn't earned Derek, otherwise your mother would be at rest, it's given. I can tell from not only your past card, but in everything you present to the world your grief defines you. It limits you. It confines you. It is the only thing that holds you here. It is your only anchor in an unsure world, one that holds you back rather than holds you down. The cards tell you you are doomed to repeat the cycle of grief and despair if you cannot let it go." 
Derek looked gutted hearing he'd been the cause of his mother's wakeful sleep. 
"It's not painful." Stiles lied. 
Derek looked at him fully disbelieving. 
Stiles sighed knowing he shouldn't have tried to lie to a werewolf. "Not physically. But if she can sense how lost her son has been without her it can be harmful. I've given her a sort of temporary rest for now." Stiles left out the part about how Peter had been using Talia's spirit for various side projects so he was familiar with putting her on ice. He got the sense this made Derek uncomfortable and he didn't know what to do with the various revelations he'd had. "Now that we've got all of that pesky disbelief out of the way let's get to the meat and potatoes. Why are you here?" 
Derek once again slumped into the chair, but this time with much less irritation and more acceptance. "Two of my pack- err friends are missing." 
Stiles rolled his eyes at the half cocked cover up. "You can say pack I know you're a werewolf. Also dude you just saw my eyes go into twenty seven year old shitzu mode, I think we're passed the me not knowing about the supernatural point." 
"Do you have to be such a smartass? They're not pack." 
"If you want a monotone no nonsense fortune get chinese food or I think the bowling alley might still have a Zoltar machine." Stiles saw the barest hint of a smile after that one and he couldn't help the way his stomach jumped. Stiles continued while trying to repress his glee, "How long ago did they go missing? What do you want to know? Where they are? Who took them? Are they alive?" 
"Two weeks. We got into a fight so I thought they were just cooling off." Derek looked guilty. "I should've known." 
Stiles reached out where Derek had his hand on the table. "I don't even always know, and it's literally my job." 
Derek pulled his hand back. "Yes. To your earlier question. I want to know all of them." 
Stiles shook his head. "You get one." 
Derek waved his hand dismissively. "Money is no object. I need to find them. They're my responsibility." 
Stiles looked regretful. "Amazing I am, all powerful? Sadly no. You get one, not I'm giving you one." 
Derek nodded understanding and then fell silent. He looked to Peter after a moment who seemingly understood his nonverbal request. 
"I'd ask if they were alive. No need looking for a dead racehorse." 
Derek gave Peter a less than thrilled look. While Stiles scoffed and replied, "Peter! That's so rude. Stop pretending to be heartless otherwise one of these days we'll believe you." He turned to Derek. "One question. Take your time." 
The gentle noises of his shop filled the silence as Derek looked deep in thought. Stiles patiently waited. Derek finally spoke, "I want to know where. Where are they, how do I get to them?" 
Stiles shook his head. "Where they are might not necessarily be how you get to them. That's two questions." 
Derek's fists balled and he caught the barest hint of fangs in his snarl. "How is that two! How will I get to them if I don't know where they are?!"
Stiles spent most of his day to day with the supernatural. He was used to supernatural beings asking him for help, used to being around them in desperate times. Although he had magic, it was divination based. More often than he'd like he was at the mercy of raging upset people with the ability to kill him only equipped with answers they came for but still didn't want to hear. Stiles recognized the wild look in Derek's eyes. The desperation, despair, and rage were there, but also an overwhelming guilt. Normally that cocktail had his eyes flashing white hours before so he knew to call Scott to help, but this time he felt something strange. His magic didn't warn him against, it almost thrummed him towards. 
In these situations Stiles had lost count of the times visions had saved his life. However, this flash of his eyes thrust him backwards instead of forward. 
He was in his father's backyard, but not how it is, how it was. Stiles took a step, but stopped to look down. He was barefoot. The warm soft summer grass tickled and pillowed his feet. It was almost dreamlike even though Stiles knew that wasn't how this worked, this was real. He heard a sharp shriek and looked back up towards the yard. 
A little brown haired boy screamed in joy as he ran towards something. His mother. 
Her bright beautiful smile was stretched wide with pure joy. She held her arms wide open from where she was sat on the delicate fluffy grass. It brought tears to his eyes. She was so beautiful. This moment was beautiful, however he knew what happened next. Not because of his abilities, but because he had lived it. 
He heard a growl and even as he tried to turn he only saw a flash of grey. He couldn't see it now, he hadn't seen it the first time. 
Stiles had long since killed the urge to try and call out or change things in his visions, but tears did sting his eyes at the ruined memory. It always hurt to see how much she had loved him before. Once again Stiles' childlike shriek sliced the air, but this time pain filled. The dog had crossed the yard faster than his mother could get up. His jaws sank into Stiles' chubby kid like calf and a sharp stinging had both sets of Stiles' now tear filled eyes looking down at their respective legs. His leg had the marks, blood, and pain but the dog was only attached to his younger self. 
Hearing his mother scream for his father he looked to where she now had them separated and the dog bit at her ankles. Fat tears ran from Stiles' eyes before he buried his pain stricken face into his mother's neck. 
Stiles knew what happened next. His father came barreling out, the owner ran up, his mother yelled, and his father calmed everyone down. He didn't need to see anything else, frankly he didn't remember anything else other than going to the hospital and crying. 
Yet he lingered. 
He saw his father collect information from the man with his hand on Claudia's back. He tuned out of their conversation to look back at her. She wore a look he'd seen many times, but never on his mother. She was terrified. Not of the now calmed dog, or what had just happened. He searched her face, but only came up with fear. 
His mother had always been an avid animal lover, but after this moment she had changed. Something about it had scarred her. He was never allowed to get a dog, not even allowed to bring it up. Why had this moment scared her so much? 
Realization struck him like a ton of bricks as his body exploded in pain. He felt pulled and thrashed as he was assaulted from all angles by phantom fangs. He shouted in pain as the blood ran from the dozens of bite marks menacing his body. He looked at his brutalized limbs and then back up. 
Gone was the scene in front of him. Only pitch black and grass remained along with his mother empty handed. She was staring right at him. She looked at all the blood but this time there was no yell or movement towards him. She had a blank face, she only tilted her head. 
Stiles had figured out why she had been so scared. That moment was the first time she hasn't divined something bad before it had happened to him. It was the first time her magic failed her. 
Stiles looked back to his wounds then to his apathetic mother. 
"Someone has to care Stiles. Tread lightly you know not what the devil will bring to your door if you invite him in." 
Stiles pushed down the frustration at how vague his vision had been as he was thrust back to the current moment. Not a second had passed, Derek was still as irritated as he has been. "I need to know where they are!"
The memory he had just experienced softened him in a way he never was with clients, much less new ones that hated him. He gently placed a hand on Derek's fist. 
"You feel responsible. We can't claim others blame for a harm that if within our power we would've prevented. Blame is a terrible mistress. The longer you blame yourself the more she gets away with. It makes you rash and impulsive. Your friends are not just lost or gone, they are guarded against you. An unsteady hand cannot unlock even with the right key." 
Derek looked taken aback and yet a shutter of calm rattled through his physicality. He took a breath. "I changed my mind. How do I get to them?"
Stiles once again shuffled the deck, but this time arranged five cards with a measured grace. He put the first four in a square formation and then filled the middle with the last card. They looked like the dots on the five face of a die spread out in front of Derek. Stiles flipped the first card in the top left corner of the square from Derek's point of view. 
The magician. Stiles frowned at the card. His tarot deck was magic in more ways than one. Mostly they were just a focus for his divination magic, but they changed to suit the person and what he was divining for them. Sometimes the pictures even moved, or like it had before, changed images mid reading. This had never happened before though. Normally when he pulled the magician card for someone else it looked either like a legendary witch or like his mystic persona. This was an image of him in his kitchen looking down into a mug of tea. The scene was very intimate and domestic. There were swirls of his magic that cleaned his kitchen and he was just in his Batman PJ bottoms. His hair was sleep ruffled. There would be no mistake. 
"It's me?" Stiles sounded puzzled. 
"Well yeah I assume you painted the deck. A bit pretentious to paint yourself. What does it mean?" Derek asked impatiently. 
"It means me." Stiles pushed out even though he still sounded so unsure. "Not just magic or magic user, this card means me."
Peter piped up, "Well that makes sense. We came here, you're the first step on his journey. Yada yada." 
Stiles shook his head filled with unease. "No this means me. Like me, me. Something I do or tell you, not the reading. The reading speaks for itself, and this is saying my name." 
Stiles moved to flip the next card but Derek put his hand over his. "Whoa whoa, what does it mean though? Do the thing like you did with the others." 
Stiles shook both his head and Derek's hand off of his own. "No. I don't know yet." Stiles felt an unease fill his stomach yet he flipped the next card. 
There was a little boy triumphantly holding two identical sticks up in the air in this card. His proud toothy smile was crowned by bright blonde curls and a cozy knit scarf sat snug around his neck. Behind him laid a crossroads. One long winding path lead to a home and the other back to the woods. 
Derek grabbed at the card hurriedly before showing Peter. "Look familiar?" An edge of worry was in his tone. "This looks like my friend Issac. What does that mean?"
Stiles shrugged. "Two of wands definitely pertains to your question, it's a card of where do I go next. Sometimes the deck draws on what is familiar to you, but it could be a warning. Since we asked such a pointed question I would caution just disregarding it wholly. Maybe bring him with to find your friends." 
Derek looked apprehensive. "I haven't talked to Issac in years. He's in France now." 
Stiles continued, "Maybe it's nothing. The message in this card could be for you. You stand at a crossroad between home and familiar and returning to the woods, the more wild side. Either way this card often has to do with the sadness and loss of having to give something up to pursue a goal or vision. It has to do with dominion over people and the power to control things, but in the same vein an indecision and hesitation." 
Stiles fingers floated over the middle card and went right for the bottom left. They danced for a moment there. "The first two cards were about preparation. What you did do to find them. This, this is how you find them. Where your journey leads." Stiles flipped the card. 
The card was a frenetic animated mess of roots and weaving waving branches. Leaves were fluttering and scattering haphazardly. It was just an ordinary windy forest except for eight thick trunks intricately carved with runic symbols. 
"Eight of wands, haste makes waste, but delay is in poor taste. Timing is everything. This card shows that you need to hurry, but poor planning is the fool's folly. Once you find your confidence to strike there can be no delay, but a fight with mind, body and spirit in tune is necessary as well. This card also can mean being smitten with love due to early depictions of the eight wands looking like cupid's flying arrows. Somehow I doubt that's happening here." Stiles looked up to Derek's face and he was still looking at the cards deep in thought. 
"Oh I don't know, we've got wolf and witch how far stretched is a baby with aim in this moment. After all, unlikely places." Peter teased. 
Stiles flipped the last corner card. 
Similarly to the last card Stiles spotted the runes right away this time and noted they were divining runes on both cards. This time they were carved into branches stuck into the ground like a palisade. All eight of them had the runes, but so did the walking stick the man leaned on. The branches cut off the man from his warring past, and even though there was more carnage ahead of him this was usually a hopeful card. He was bandaged and bleeding, but there was a glint of determination burning in his eyes. Eyes that looked straight at Stiles. 
He had pulled the card in reverse. 
Stiles sucked in a breath and tried to think. 
"Just say it." Derek cut in. 
"Yet another wand card. Wands are cards of action, fire, and decision. It's an urging card. You must do, experience, embody. You've also pulled a lot of cards related to journeys and hard decisions. This one though is usually a very positive card. In reverse it means triumph comes at a great cost if you insist on doing it before you're ready or alone. No warrior alone wins a war and no pain is lessened by feeling it in solitude. This card warns of losing this fight. Of losing what could be precious to you. Of the future you could lose." 
"These aren't helping me figure out where they are." 
Stiles shook his head. "You chose how to get to them." 
Derek huffed in annoyance. "Show me the last one."
Stiles flipped the last card. 
A clearing in the woods created space for the only thing of note in the card. A woman in a cloak with kind whiskey eyes and chestnut hair sat on the ground with an outstretched hand resting on a wolf skull. Small bluebell flowers grew from the eye sockets. 
Once again the overly personal nature of his card's portrayal caused him to pause. Stiles found his words, "This is the death card. Do not judge it. It doesn't represent death itself, it represents the transition to a new phase of life. It's a hard road with one final battle before... Something. I feel a culmination. An answer to the question you've spent a lifetime seeking. How do I get there is your question, but the cards wish to tell you a different answer. The cards say this road leads to pain and loss, but there are two sides of it. Two paths to take. Do you dwell and go back to the pain or do you forge ahead and choose a new beginning? Your choices and actions matter. You alone can choose the future or the past, but your choices have consequences for you and those around you." 
"How is this the way I get to them?" Derek asked.
Stiles sighed. "Unfortunately the cards are not call and answer. They're more ask and the mystical random dude you came to will maybe slightly point you the right way in the dark." 
Derek's annoyance spiked as his patience waned. 
"Hey look dude I gave you the way it's up to you to find it. That's what I got for you take it or leave it man." Stiles set the deck to the side but left the spread. 
Derek stared at all of the cards intensely. "What if I don't figure out what they mean?" 
Peter piped up, "You already know what they mean." 
Stiles pointed a finger over to Peter. "Ding ding. Bingo. Someone's been paying attention on his visits. You win a prize tall, dark, and creepy uncle."
"Is it more time with you, because I already pay your rate for what I want. Well, what I can get from this shop." Peter winked at him. 
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Your prize is don't get coffee tomorrow morning." 
Peter squinted his eyes. "Noted." 
Stiles turned back to Derek. "Follow your gut. Listen to the cards. Oh also for the love of Weiner dogs, have a plan. But definitely act! Don't wait too long. Oh and unless you..." Stiles trailed off after he realized he wasn't helping. 
Derek stabbed a finger into the cards. "These mean fuck all!" 
"Focus. This isn't where they are. You didn't ask that. This is how you'll get there, the journey. Look at the cards, really look. Not for what you see, but what they could be telling you. We have multiple senses, but our most powerful is our inner sense. What pulls you, what draws your eye." 
"The woods. They seem familiar." 
Stiles nodded. "Good. Familiar how? Have you been there before? Do they feel like home?"
Derek tilted his head. "Like I've been there before." He tapped on the card with the curly haired boy. "Okay say Issac has something to do with this, why is he a kid though?" 
"Did you meet him as a young boy?" Stiles asked. 
Derek shook his head. "I met him about five years ago when he was sixteen. His dad was... Not the best. He needed a safe place and I could help him." 
Stiles studied him as he spoke. "That's not the only reason. I can tell you're a good person, but I can also tell there was something about this boy. Just now you looked sad for him, but not in a sympathetic way. You looked genuinely empathetic. I won't ask what or who, but I just ask that you consider this with an open mind. Maybe he represents something childlike in you. A time you had been lead astray from your path, taken advantage of. A time you needed protection." Stiles could tell from the steely jaw and hard eyes he had made a correct assessment. "Don't linger on those moments, but unfortunately I think something about that situation will point you in the right direction."
Derek gave a curt nod and cleared his throat. "Can I take a picture of these?"
"Of course." 
Peter and Derek both stood up. "We've taken enough of your magnificent time." Peter mocked a bow. 
"Always a pleasure Mr. Hale." Stiles bowed his head back. 
"Um, thanks." Derek stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. "Oh, how do I pay you?" 
"Your second born and a year's subscription to divination doodads magazine." Stiles said.
"Funny." Derek said with a deadpan tone. 
"I know I am, it's my best quality. Dude you just pay me like anyone else credit, debit, cash, I even take Paypal." 
"Debit is fine." Derek took out his wallet as Stiles stepped behind the counter. He punched a few things and Derek swiped his card. Before putting it back he hesitated before speaking,  "You really don't feel bad about this? Charging people to help them?" 
Stiles shrugged. "I gotta eat. Do you feel bad asking poor suckers betting their mortgage payment, black or red?" 
"Yes." Derek confessed. 
"Then of the two of us the one out of balance with their life isn't me. Would you like your receipt?" 
A laugh shocked him as it made it's way out. Derek agreed. "Maybe you're right. No thanks."
"I hope you find them." Stiles said earnestly. 
"Don't you already know?" Derek asked walking to the door. 
"Not how it works. But I do have a feeling you will." Derek seemed the determined type to Stiles. 
"Do I have to pay extra for feelings?" Derek's hand rested on the doorknob, but he waited for Stiles' reply. 
"Nah, I'll give those to you on the house." Stiles smirked at him. 
Derek heard the bell chime and wondered if Stiles had enchanted it. Things long dormant in him fluttered to the surface as he left. 
He would find his friends. Maybe afterwards he could come back to the shop to thank Stiles for his help. Maybe. 
***
Stiles juggled some of the grocery bags to the other hand to knock. It was a long day, a taxing one with the Hale's visit. He was glad it was over. It had been strange having such a personal vision in the middle of a reading. It had thrown off the rest of his day till he decided to close up early and hit the grocery store. Seeing his mom's face filled with such joy had been like a balm on a wound long closed. It didn't heal anything, but it helped the scar stretch. He missed her so much he wished he could revisit that moment when he wanted to, but it was a vision not a mercy. 
The door finally opened and the dagger struck his heart like it always did. A woman with warm whiskey eyes and chestnut hair opened the door surprised. "Stiles, what are you doing here?" 
Stiles took a deep breath in for when his throat inevitability caught. "Hey Ms. Gajos." 
She smiled. "I told you, you can call me Claudia." 
Stiles forced a smile and pushed on. "I really can't, you know that." 
She took some of the bags from him. "Ever the respectful young man. The sheriff sure raised you right. And I told you you don't have to keep bringing me groceries. You and your father have been like mother hens since I fell doing the gutters. It wasn't even that bad and it was months ago." Claudia gestured wildly as she spoke. 
Stiles turned away from her and placed them on the counter. "My mother did a really good job too." Stiles' eyes went glossy but he willed down his emotions. 
He turned back after a moment and she looked lost in thought. "Right of course I'm sure." She looked around confused. "Were we having dinner? You brought over stuff for meatloaf? Are we having meatloaf?" 
Stiles pulled himself together. "No Ms. Gajos. I should go. I'm sorry." Stiles felt the familiar spiral of pain, indulgence, and then finally guilt. 
She looked so upset. "No no, you can stay. I just can't remember. I can't remember something?" She looked at him with lost pleading eyes. "Are we supposed to eat together? Just let me remember what I-what I... Stiles I'm forgetting." 
Stiles started to panic. He grabbed her glasses. "Here. Calm down Ms. Gajos. You're just forgetting your glasses." He held them out hoping he hadn't sent his mom into a spiral. 
Her face got wiped of concern and panic and she smiled. "You're such a sweet boy. You better head home. How silly of me and I'm not even sixty yet. Forgetting my glasses what an old lady thing. I thought I'd be all old and wrinkly and covered in baby powder by that time you know." She snorted. 
"No you're not old. Everybody forgets little things every now and again." He reasoned. 
She turned and cupped his cheek and smiled. "It's good I have a little mischief maker like you around to help me remember." 
"Yeah." His voice croaked. "Bye." He turned and walked to the door without looking back. 
"Drive safe. That jeep is a death trap!" 
Stiles only waved behind. 
He made it to the jeep and threw it into reverse as the tears fell. Seeing her was always hard, but today he'd pushed too much. He wished he could stop visiting, it only upset her. But how do you greive someone who's still there? Neither of them could let her go. The town and doctors thought it was just a bad case of amnesia, but his dad and him both knew. They knew this was a curse. A nasty one, one that Stiles had been trying to figure out for over a decade. 
The curse had made her forget, but the real curse was that they remembered. Knowing didn't make it easier, in fact he so often wished he was the one that forgot. But that wouldn't piece their family together. 
He couldn't help that right now. He could pour over tomes like he did every night, but right now his mind pulled to Derek. That was a unique reading. He didn't feel as in control as he normally did. He wasn't guiding Derek though the cards, the cards guided both of them. Thinking about the strange gruff man brought a smile to his face. He had liked him a lot more than he expected. Derek was as unique as his tarot cards were. Something about him was magnetic and repelling in equal measures. Although he was pretty sure he was rude on purpose. 
Tomorrow was a new day. He could worry about curses and cute boys when he wasn't so exhausted. 
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elkian · 3 months ago
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Not to go "let me learn you a thing, tumblr" in 2024 but I only recently realized this isn't as common knowledge as I thought so:
As someone who grew up a mile away from a bat bridge (a bridge that a bat colony lived under) I need people to understand the deal with grounded bats. All around that bridge are signs reading "do not handle grounded bats".
Short version: it's about Rabies. (World Health Organization, Wikipedia)
(If you handle ANY wild animal you need to tell a medical professional immediately. Don't handle a wild animal unless absolutely necessary and if you must, please use gloves and tools and throw away anything you can't sterilize completely.)
Bats are usually seen either 1), flying, or 2), sleeping. They can crawl, but you're unlikely to see a healthy, happy bat just chillin' on the ground. If you get a bat roosting under your roof/nearby tree/etc., you should alert animal control and leave the bat alone. If it got lost on its way home then it'll fly back once it's done sleeping. This happens sometimes. If not, you absolutely do not want to be handling the bat, see below.
As mentioned, healthy, happy bats do not usually chill on the ground for long periods of time. If there is a bat on the ground and it does not want to get off the ground any time soon, it is time to call animal control.
There's a number of reasons why the bat may be grounded, and one of those reasons is rabies. It's not a 100% guarantee, but it's not a gamble you'll want to be taking.
Rabies is 100% lethal without medical intervention.
Any wild mammal interaction carries a risk of passing rabies. They don't have to bite you, either- scratching you with claws they've licked or drooled on, or open cuts on your skin coming into contact with fur they've groomed, carries a risk! This is also bad news for your pets, which may in turn pass rabies to you.
I'm not going full PSA on this (so to speak) because I am not a doctor but if there is any, any chance you have come into contact with a rabid animal, you need medical help. Not "I can't afford it so I'll sleep it off", not "some vitamin C should be enough", your options are 1) seek the aid of a medical professional or 2) die horribly. Even the extremely rare cases of people surviving without rabies shots, they did so with intensive medical care anyways. Rabies is lethal, and it's contagious.
Don't handle grounded bats.
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irlrachelamber · 6 months ago
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BITTERSUITE - PREVIEW
Ellie Williams x ExGf!Reader
preview for my upcoming fic " BITTERSUITE " ,, based on Billie Eilish's new album / songs.
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" , but I gotta be careful ,"
She was standing at my door. Her entire body was shaking and soaking wet, and she looked at me with an expression of sadness. I looked back at her, my heart breaking at the sight of Ellie standing at my doorstep once again, like she had been earlier this morning. I swore to myself I'd never see her again in this position, her most vulnerable and my most sensitive. Her green eyes meeting my blue ones. I couldn't believe I was letting her in. I just gotta be careful..
" ... gotta watch what I say... "
Her sombre eyes watched as I brought her over a towel. She took it in her hands and said a quiet thank you before throwing it over herself. I sat in front of her, my eyes piercing into her own. She was shivering violently and avoiding all forms of communication between us. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. All I was left with was air. She shifted her weight from side to side as she tried to make herself warmer. Her hands were clasped together in a ball, her fingers crossed over one another.
" Do you want a hot chocolate?"
" God, I hope it all goes away.. "
I placed the mug on the coffee table in front of her. She nodded and picked it up, her hands immediately wrapping around the ceramic. She blew on it a few times and smiled down at the liquid contents before drinking some. I continued to look at her. I realised she wasn't wearing the outfit I saw her in this morning. Her t-shirt was ripped and fraying at all sides, the soles of her shoes were breaking apart, and her jeans had even bigger holes in them. I studied her face as she drank the beverage, her eyes all bloodshot from what looked like crying. The thunder struck from outside the house, and she violently jerked, her face striken with fear. I looked outside, watching the trees sway from side to side in the wind.
"God I hope it all goes away, huh?"
I said to her, turning away from the window and to her curled up figure. She nodded and cleared her throat, giving me the cup.
"Yeah I hope so."
" 'Cause I can't fall in love with you.. "
"Ellie. Why are you here?"
I said, my arms crossed over each other. She looked up at me, her eyes darting around. She sighed and stood up gently.
"I wanted to say that i-"
"If you wanted to say you were sorry, you would've done that earlier when you came and got your shit."
She looked at me stunned, her mouth hung open.
"You know I'm really sorry. I didn't know that she was gonna kiss me at that party."
I felt a rage burn right through me as she spoke. She spoke as if it wasn't her fault, as if she didn't cheat and enjoy it.
"Oh Ellie, you and Dina did a lot more than just kiss. You fucking know that."
I spat, pointing my finger in her face. I could feel my blood running cold as she stuttered, trying to make up and excuse.
"Cmon babe. You're being dramatic, it was a party!"
"Yeah, but if I was there, would've Dina and you fucked?"
She stood silent, her face rested in a soft frown. I felt tears run down my cheeks, and I let out a stifled sob from my chapped lips.
"Everyone was right. I should've never picked you up on that offer to go out for coffee."
"Oh stop being pathetic, you don't mean that. Please. I'll make it up to you, it'll be like we fell in love all over again!"
I stood up angrily and pushed her too the door.
"Ellie, I wish I could but I can't fall in love with you again."
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(c) irlrachelamber 2024
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mokutone · 8 months ago
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Hey I hope it’s okay to message you! Just wanted to check in on how you were doing… I wanted to DM you but I’m way too shy, I wanted to let you know— in 2023, after four years of complete silence, your art inspired me to start creating again. From 2019 to 2024, I was completely run dry. I didn’t create a single piece of art! But seeing your wonderful drawings, the way your compositions seemed to breathe life into your art, and your gorgeous use of colors… helped me to start creating art once more! It’s almost a year since then, and I’ve still been steadily creating. Thank you so much for bringing joy back into my life!! I had forgotten that it existed all along… I appreciate you and your art so much, I hope that you have many happy things to smile about. Peace and love 🫛🤍
i've gotten a handful of asks gently prodding me to make sure i'm alive (theyre very sweet) and i'm answering this one only bc it touched me deeply if i wait a while to answer it i know the asker won't get alerted so! 1) it's definitely okay to message me! but, that said: i probably will not reply to most asks for a very long time (sorry!) 2) that is, i think, the sweetest thing you could possibly say to me—maybe to any artist. i'm really, really, profoundly glat that my art made you want to make art too!!! other artists have done this for me when i was stuck, and i am eternally grateful to them, and now eterernally grateful to you, for finding what you needed in my art, that's a beautiful thing, and it's an honor as an artist!! i hope that somebody is brave and kind enough to tell you that your art inspired them to create—its a feeling like nothing else. i'm SO, so glad, that art is bringing you joy again!!! 3) (as for how i am doing—life continues, in its own way. most things are not good, but some are! i've made a promise with myself not to post on this blog until i sort out some unfortunately very real life difficulties, and.......it's been a year and i'm still working on it! life continues. good days and bad days. i suppose i'm also in a bit of a silent period of my own at the moment, in many ways! it happens to everyone, and it'll end eventually for me too)
and, with that said—let the silence resume for now.
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scarletwinterxx · 4 months ago
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fight my way - choi seungcheol imagine
hellloooo, so for like the entrance part of this fic just imagine that scene of hyungsik in strong girl namsoon when he walks in the police station😅🤣 yea just imagine cheol doing that. that's where i got the inspiration for this imagine
anyways i hope you like it!
for my other svt fics, check them here
if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)
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"WHERE IS SHE?!"
All heads turned when Choi Seungcheol walked in, slamming the double doors open strolling in with hurried steps. You noticed the guy beside you jump from his seat while some of the police officers looked alarmed when the doors loudly banged against the wall.
He quickly zeros in on you, running towards where you sat then he crouched beside you immediately taking your hand in his
"JAGI! Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? Let me see your hand"
"I'm fine" you assured him, he still checks though. Once he's done he stands up and faces the officer Infront of you.
"What seems to be the problem here, officer? Why is my fiancé being held here?"
"Well she-" "SHE ATTACKED ME!" the man seating a few seats from beside you shouts, all heads turn towards his direction
"Yah, do you want to be punched again?" you asked him, you feel Seungcheol's hand on your shoulder as if he's telling to you calm down and he's got it.
"SHE DID! LOOK AT THIS!" the guy points at his swollen left eye, it's not that bad but you bet it'll be worse in a couple of hours. You did get him good.
You were having dinner out with your workmates when one of them got harassed by this dude. When your workmate disappeared from your table, you saw her by the restaurant bar and a man being touchy with her. Noticing the uncomfortable expression on her face, you decided to intervene.
A few hours later, you're here at the police station.
"She got you good" you hear your fiancé mumble under his breath
"I'm going to press charges against you!" he shouts again
"You?! You're going to press charges when you were the one who harassed my friend?! Wah the audacity. What makes you think you can just put your hands on a woman just like that huh? and when I do the same and land my fist on your face you're complaining?? Tell me. Make it make sense" you challenge him.
It seems like the punch wasn't enough to knock some sense into him and you're never one to back down whenever you see something wrong.
Meanwhile the officer in front of you just looks back and forth, letting you rip at the man. Seungcheol bites back the proud smile for now, he lets you teach the man the lesson he needed to hear.
"I- well- Still! You're wrong for attacking me!"
"I attacked you?! You attacked my friend! Getting your grubby hands on her, saying she was asking for it. You deserved that punch and more"
"YAH YOU BIT-"
"I'd watch what you'll say next Sir, I'm being respectful here because we're Infront of my fiancé and we might both end up behind bars so if I were you I'd choose my next words wisely" Seungcheol cuts him off before he finishes his sentence, his expression quickly changing to a scary one. The look that can quiet down the whole place.
You snicker at the guy, seeing the intimidated look on his face before facing front. "My friend is just waiting for her boyfriend to come, she will be pressing charges. Is there anything else you need from me?" you ask
"We have the security footage now, we did see him approach your friend first and started being touchy with her. It happened for a while, the video also showed she did try to get away a few times but he kept on touching her then you came over. That's when all of that happened" the officer points at the guy, pertaining to his swollen eyes
"Is she getting charged for anything?"
"It showed in the video too that he shoved you first before you defended yourself"
"He pushed you?" Seungcheol looks down at you, brows furrowed
"Yeah he did, he still won't let go of my friend so I went up to him. He pushed me when I tried to tell him off, that's when I punched him"
"YOU CAME AT ME!"
"Can I press charges against him?" Seungcheol asks
"CHEOL! It's fine, I'm fine. I'm not the one attacked here, we'll deal with it later" you looked up at him, speaking through your eyes.
Seungcheol might give of alpha vibes but one look from you and he'd heel.
"Is there anything else?" you ask the officer "That's it, we got your testimony. You may go now" you thank the officer before standing up from your seat and lacing your hands with your fiancé's.
You hear the other man's protests but you don't look back, going out the same door Seungcheol walked in a few minutes ago.
Before you go, you talked to your workmate and made sure she's okay. Her boyfriend arrived shortly then you bid goodbye.
The two of you walk out the station hand in hand, Seungcheol helps you get inside the car before jogging over the driver's side. He waits until you're buckled in before driving away.
You didn't like the silence. No music, just the low hum of the engine and your own heartbeat.
"Cheol, are you mad at me?"
"Of course not, baby. Pissed at that man for putting his hands on you? Pushing you? Absolutely. I don't even let mosquitos bite you, and he thinks he can just do that? Some men really aren't shit. Sorry" he mumbles an apology after swearing, always careful and respectful when he's around you.
To Seungcheol, you're the most precious, most important person in his life. He would do anything and everything to make sure you're always safe. He also knows you're a protector, you protect those who are close to you. You always do right, ready to defend. Hence why he swore to be your defender too. Be your number one protector.
You smile upon hearing your fiancé’s words, reaching out to squeeze his thigh. He takes your hand and laces it with his own, feeling the metal band on your finger against his skin.
"You sure you're okay? You aren't hurt anywhere?" his voice suddenly turning more gentle, the Cheol only you get to witness
"I'm good, baby. I promise" you pull your intertwined hands, kissing the back of his hand before resting it on your lap.
"Give me that man's name"
"Why?"
"If he's doing it to random women, then about those in his workplace or other women he knows? I'll take care of it, don't you worry"
You look at him, watching him closely. He feels your stare on him so he squeezes your hand to assure you, "I'm not going to get in any trouble I promise"
"Okay. No punching alright?"
When he don't say anything you say his name
"Fine, I promise no punching, I'll just ask Mingyu to do it for me"
"Gyu wouldn't hurt a fly, he's all height no fight" you chuckle
"Oh by the way, Han has something to give to you. It's at the back"
When you stop at a red light, Seungcheol lets go of your hand to reach behind your seat to get a black plastic bag then gives it to you
"What's this?" you look inside to see it's content
"Tofu? Really?"
"Han said to give it to you" he laughs, taking your hand again before resuming the drive
"You tell your other wife I'll punch him next time I see him"
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eryiss · 3 months ago
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Fraxus Week 2024 - Day 1: Transformation
Description: The hard part was meant to be asking Freed out on the date, but in the week between asking and the actual date, Laxus gets in his own head. Following the advice of his guildmates, he transforms himself into the man he thinks Freed deserves. Freed has other ideas, and utilises thievery, embarrassment, and an apple pie to show it.
Note: Fraxus Week 2024, as always hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus. Hopefully I’ll have something for the main seven days. I’m sure there'll be lots of good stuff made. Have fun, hope you enjoy reading it.
Link: Ao3
In Defence Of Apple Pie
Food
Laxus had been sitting in the corner of the guild for a little while, waiting for the bar to quieten down. He'd been playing with his beer tankard after downing it. Not nervous. Just… thinking.
He'd done the hard part, that was the main thing. He'd knocked on Freed's door, got over his stupid machismo and all the voices screaming not to put himself on the line like this, and asked Freed on a date. He'd said it plainly and clearly, leaving no room for doubt that he was interested in Freed, and had gotten the most beautiful smile and a quiet 'Yes, I think I'd quite enjoy that' in response.
So now he just had to plan a date. A date that would determine the future relationship he had with a man he'd been crushing on for over a year now. No pressure.
The second the bar looked empty, he pounced. He strode quickly, slid into the stool that was furthest from the throngs of the crowd, and beckoned Mirajane over with a jerk of his head. When she came, she gave him a questioning look.
"You know any good places to eat?" He demanded without preamble, voice low and quiet.
Mirajane, if she was affronted by his lack of a greeting, didn't show it. She hummed quietly to herself. "Of course. What type of place are you looking for? Fine dining? Quiet and undiscovered? Somewhere to show off about? Somewhere-"
"Need a place to take a date, that's all." He said it impassively, like it wasn't a big deal and didn't need commenting on. He had hoped that Mirajane would catch the energy he was giving and match it. Instead, her eyes shone, and she beamed an excited, gossip-starved grin at him. He was quick to cut it off. "Don't get weird about it."
"You're going on a date!" She exclaimed, though thankfully in a whisper. Laxus looked over his shoulder for listeners-in anyway. "Who with?"
"Doesn't matter."
"I'll find out if you don't tell me," She pushed on, leaning against the bar now. "Might as well get it over with."
Laxus managed to keep to his guns for about five seconds, before he huffed out a noise. "If you freak out on this, I'll kill ya," he grunted, and she nodded. "It's Freed."
She slapped the top of the bar, looked up to the roof with her neck straining, reached for a dishcloth and covered his mouth with it, then made a weird screeching noise. Once that was over, she looked back at Laxus, and in a whisper that might rival a teenage girl in irritation, said "It's finally happening!"
"Be quiet," Laxus demanded, once again looking for anyone who might have heard.
"No; I'm excited. Oh, this is so amazing. You're going to date and fall in love and get married-"
"Get ahold of yourself woman!" Laxus snapped. "It's a date. Just a date."
"Between you and Freed!"
"Not worth it," Laxus pushed himself back to leave the bar. "You tell anyone, the I'll-"
"Wait wait wait," Mirajane leant over and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back to sitting. Laxus let it happen. "I'll stop. I promise. And I will help you out with finding the perfect place to go. It's got to be somewhere fancy, obviously. Freed's basically the idea of elegance come to life, so it'll have to be somewhere high class. Candles and table clothes are a minimum. Oh, there's this amazing little place tucked away in the corner of Harrow Street. It's called the Thin Sparrow, have you heard of it?"
She went on to give an in depth and detailed recounting of all the local, and sometimes non-local eateries that it would be respectable for Freed to date in. They were all pricey, fancy, snobby places that Laxus wouldn't ever think of going to normal. But Mira was right; Freed was a high class kinda guy, and Laxus wasn't going to risk their first date going to a place that was beneath him.
It raised an issue, though. Because Freed really was a classy guy. Laxus wasn't. Laxus was meat and potatoes when Freed was champagne and caviar. There was more to Freed than that, obviously, but his fancy tastes were a part of him too. He liked to eat well, dressed in fancy clothes, and talked smart because that was who he was.
Freed contained multitudes. Could Laxus appeal to all of them?
"Oh, I've got the perfect place. How did I not think of it before?" Mira grinned at him. "It's called The Mirror. Super exclusive and with a really long wait list, but I know the owner and I can get you in. They do the best food, and I'm sure Freed'll know about it, so he'll be really impressed. And I bet he'll have been desperate to try the food. You know what he's like in the kitchen. It's perfect!"
"You can sort that?"
"Of course," she beamed. "So long as you promise me you tell me all about it the next morning."
"Not a fuckin' chance," Laxus grunted. "He's private; I ain't gossiping about him." She beamed at him, which was frankly a bit disturbing, so he huffed again. "What?"
"You know him so well; you're going to make such a good couple."
Well, there was no real response to that that didn't involve him blushing, so he pushed away from the bar, and walked out of the guildhall, deciding that he'd done enough sharing for the day.
But Mirajane had been right; Freed needed, and deserved, to be wowed and treated like a goddamn Prince. Maybe Laxus wasn't princely to most, but he wanted this thing with Freed to work out, and if he had any hope of that, he needed to brush up and be the guy that Freed deserved. Unfortunately, he had a sinking, horrible feeling that achieving that meant calling for help.
———
Clothes
"Hideous. Awful. Revolting. Makes me judge you as a man."
This had been a mistake, but it was far too late to undo it now. All he could do was sit on the edge of his bed as Evergreen went through his closet, all the while Bickslow cracked stupid jokes and played the part of annoying fashion designer, the likes of which Laxus had only ever seen on TV.
"The fact that you still own this when I distinctly remember telling you to set it on fire," Evergreen huffed as she turned, holding out Laxus' leopard print shirt as if it were made of worms. "Is a travesty."
"It's one of my favourite shirts," Laxus defended himself. "I look good in it."
"I'm with the big guy here," Bickslow spoke up, and his agreement could only be a bad sign. "He should wear it on the date. It sends a message. It says, 'I'm a wild beast and I'm gonna pounce on you and get my teeth all up in your business.' I think Freed would go for that."
"I think you're both repressible men with no sense of style," Evergreen sniffed as she threw the shirt onto the ever-growing unacceptable pile. Laxus' irritation was also ever-growing. "You have a suit. I know you do. Where is it?"
"Under the bed," Laxus glanced down.
Ever gave him a look other people might have reserved for someone killing their firstborn, then got on her hands and knees and started to rummage under the bed. Laxus knew she'd found it when she made an aborted, angry squeak. Moments later, she was out from under his bed, holding his suit and looking furious, appalled and dusty all at once.
"A sleeping bag!" She exclaimed. "You keep your suit, the best piece of clothing you own, in a sleeping bag under your bed!"
"Barely ever wear it. Don't want it taking up space," he shrugged. "I take it to the dry cleaners if I need to use it."
"But it- You might- What if you-" She seemed genuinely lost for words. Then she found one. "Men!"
"Why're you bothering with any of that, we all know the real magic's in here," Bickslow taunted, tapping the set of drawers that housed all of Laxus' boxers. He reached for the handle. "Let's have a little-OW!"
Laxus, who had just shot off a bolt of lightning, glared at him. "You ain't rummaging through my underwear drawer."
"Why? You wear something weird? Thongs? Tighty whities?" He made a scandalised gasp. "Is it empty? Have you been going commando on us all this time? Because, if I were Freed and I found that out, I might just get on all fours and arch my back right there in the restaurant."
"Get out of my house," Laxus snapped, but Bickslow just laughed and collapsed onto the chair tucked in the corner of the room.
"Laxus, you can't go on a date with Freed wearing any of this," Evergreen sighed forlornly. "I expected it to be bad, of course, but not this bad. We'll have to go shopping. Right now. We'll have just enough time to find something perfect before dinner if we go now."
"I don't need new clothes."
"Laxus," She said it slowly, like she was talking to a child. "You're going on a date with Freed Justine. The same Freed Justine that only buys clothes with a designer label on them. You know he's going to show up looking like a million jewels. The first thing you do on a date is look at the other person. You check them out, you steal little glances, you drink them all in. Do you really want him doing that to you in something he's seen you wearing a hundred times before. In something that's been cut up and patched up after a mission. On something that, and let's be honest here Laxus, makes you look like you got lost in a charity bin."
That was quite hard not to take personally, but she was right about Freed's love of high fashion. Freed had once said he bought fancy clothes because they handled the wear and tear of a working wizards's lifestyle. But he was fashionable, too. His clothes worked with each other, matched colours and… well, Laxus didn't know enough about fashion to explain exactly why Freed's clothes looked good on him, but they did!
She was right about them looking at each other, too. Laxus was always looking at Freed. Couldn't help it. If Freed had agreed to date him, then maybe Freed did the same. On a date, the looking wouldn't have to be covert. It could be honest and brazen. If Freed were going to be doing that, then Laxus needed to look his best.
"Fine, we'll get something new," Laxus sniffed. "But nothing too weird. Something low key."
"Of course. Low key," Ever agreed.
"Low key fuckable," Bickslow grinned. "I say we get some jock straps in case it goes well. Frames that ass, hugs the crotch, and there's something about the snap of the elastic that just drives a guy wild. I know this place that does silk ones. It's mainly for porn, I think, but I'm sure they'll make an exception for you if we ask nice and you pop those pecs. Maybe do a body roll."
Laxus and Evergreen stared at him. Laxus spoke first. "He's not coming with us, right? Because if he does, I might kill him."
"Oh no, definitely not."
"You both suck," Bickslow pouted, then grinned. "Freed's a lucky guy."
He had a lightning bolt and a spray of fairy dust flying towards him before he could even think of defending himself.
———
Charm
Laxus was eating dinner in the guildhall when Loke took the seat opposite him, swivelled it around, and straddled it. He looked at Laxus. Laxus looked back at him. Neither spoke. Laxus wished that it was more socially acceptable to electrocute acquaintances to a point of unconsciousness.
"So this is how you act when you're eating, hm?" Loke tutted.
"The hell do you want?"
"You know, Freed and I have spent more time alone than you might think," Loke mused, leaning back from his straddled chair. "You're aware, I'm sure, that he and I have often been battling for dominance on the 'Wizards's I'd Like to Have Dirty Sex With' poll. We both make the top ten, of course, and those photoshoots are a long affair and it's inevitable that we'd get talking."
"That's not what the poll's called," Laxus grumbled.
"Might as well be," Loke waved off the argument. "I also got a little closer to him during your time with Blue Pegasus. He wanted advice on his flirting and, well, who better than me to test a man's charms."
"Good for you. Leave me alone."
"All of this is to say, I know what Freed is like when he's being charming and flirting," Loke leant forward again. "And I know that a man who's as silver tongued as him will want a bit of that flirty energy bouncing back at him. Rumour has it that you and he have a date, and I'd be simply remiss if I didn't give you a little advice on how to make the man squirm with just a few short words."
That rankled a little. "I think I know Freed better than you do."
"As a friend, and an ally, I've no doubt you know him better," Loke assured him. "But those photoshoots, we're expected to be as suave, debonair, and flirty as a man can be. And I'm sure you know what it's like to be in Blue Pegasus. You've seen him when he's trying to be platonic. I've seen him when he's romantic."
"You've seen him playing at being romantic," Laxus corrected. "He was pretending."
"Exactly," Loke sighed. "Laxus, when he's playing at being romantic, he's telling you what he wants in a partner. He thinks that his customers, or the photographers want him to be in a particular way. And he thinks that because that's what he wants when he's being charmed. He wants romance."
Laxus didn't say anything for a moment. "If he wanted that, why'd be say yes to dating me? Never gave him any reason to think I'm a romantic."
"Maybe he thinks it's just a part of you that isn't on the surface," Loke shrugged. "You don't need to worry. I'm sure he's not expecting you to be a totally different person. You might not even need to do any actual flirting at all, really. You've got this," he waved a hand in Laxus' direction, "awkward stud thing going on. A little flex, a stray wink, and maybe a little kiss to the knuckles will make all the difference."
Laxus couldn't do any of that! He couldn't wink without looking like he had something in his eye! He couldn't flex his arms for no reason without feeling like an idiot! Taking Freed's hand and kissing his knuckles would be humiliating! What would he do if Freed didn't want that, and took his hand away just as Laxus was lowering his head?
But, Laxus had spent months in Blue Pegasus, watching as Freed flirted with suave perfection. He could take anyone to his table and have them leave blushing and squirming. Surely Loke was right that Freed would want, and perhaps expect, a bit of flirting for himself.
"And you can teach me how to do that?" Laxus nearly whispered. "How to do it without making me feel like a jackass?"
"Oh Laxus, give me twenty minutes and I'll make a dandy out of you."
It felt like a mistake already, and the way Loke was looking at him had him more worried than a good deal of the monsters and dark mages who had actually tried to kill him. But Freed deserved a man who could make him blush, who could set his veins on fire with just a couple of words, and could make him feel flattered, charmed and adored all at once. If Loke could help him make Freed feel like that, then he'd deal with whatever awkwardness and embarrassment he needed to get over to do it.
———
Sex
"So," Cana said as she sidled herself next to him at the bar. "Little birdie told me you and Freed are going on a date, huh?"
"Your wife told you then," Laxus glared at Mirajane, who avoided his eye. "So?"
"Well, I know Freed gives off this whole stuffed shirt, reserved, prim and proper vibe, but something tells me that he's kinda freaky in bed and I thought I could give you some tips on how to handle a demon between the sheets. First hand experience of course. Now, what you wanna- where you going?"
Laxus stormed out of the guildhall, door slamming behind him as he went.
———
Truth
Laxus fiddled with the cuffs of his jacket, looking at his reflection with a small frown. He looked good. Really damn good, honestly.
Ever had eventually settled on him wearing a dark blue sweater, a darker blue jacket, and black jeans she said were slim fitting. The outfit was meant to show of his assets – Bix had cackled at that and made multiple jokes about what Freed would want to do with his assets – and it did that well. His thighs were hugged, pecs obvious, arms bulged, and waist emphasised. He looked sexy and knew it.
But he wasn't exactly comfortable. It was a summer's evening. It was hot. A sweater and a jacket were too warm, and kinda scratchy really. The jeans didn't leave much space for motion, which he was used to in his battle clothes.
Whatever. He looked good and would not look out of place on Freed's arm.
They were meeting at the restaurant, and Laxus had been sure to get there early. He wanted to get the lay of the land, scope out the other customers so he could see what they were like, and maybe get his heart to stop thumping quite so much. He quietly wished he could have taken Freed to one of the burger joints or ramen places he would get lunch from; maybe the home field advantage would calm him down.
"Laxus," Freed's voice had Laxus freezing, then slowly turning.
Freed had chosen to wear a simple black dress shirt, a jacket and black pants. The buttons on the shirt were open at the top, showing just a hint of his chest, in a way teasing and irresistible. He had his shirt tucked into his pants, and Laxus knew the second Freed turned away, his spectacular ass would be hugged perfectly. Did the guy really have to do so many squats in his workout routine? It was distracting!
Laxus started to sweat.
"Hey," he said awkwardly.
"Evening," Freed smiled. His eyes flickered over Laxus quickly, taking him in, and Laxus found himself shuffling to his full height. He felt his heart swell when Freed smiled. "Have you been shopping?"
"No," Laxus said a little too quickly.
"You look great."
"Thanks," Laxus ducked his head, then quickly added. "You too, obviously."
"Obviously?" Freed echoed with a question, and Laxus felt his cheeks bloom with heat. Freed didn't push the subject and walked to the door of The Mirror. Laxus had intended to hold the door for Freed, but Freed got there first and did it for him. That was fine. He could still pull Freed's chair out for him. "I have to say, I was surprised that you chose to come here."
"You were?" Concern bloomed. "You don't like it?"
"No, I've wanted to come here for quite some time. I just didn't think it was the kind of place you'd enjoy, is all," Freed looked around the small reception area, eyes flitting all over the place. It looked fancy and stylish, but Laxus clearly didn't see whatever had Freed so fascinated. He couldn't stop looking at Freed.
The host came up to them, and Laxus gave his name. She smiled brightly at them and guided them towards their table. About twenty or so tables, all with two occupants, were laid out. It was all romantic and sweet, with candles and flowers and glittering silverware. Again, Laxus found himself looking at Freed. His ass really did fill out those pants. Could Laxus think like that now? He'd stopped himself before, out of propriety and respect, but if they were on a date then…
What the hell was he thinking about? He was in a fancy ass restaurant, and all he could think about was how damn sexy his date was! That wasn't what you were meant to do, right?
How, in the week of unwanted advice, had nobody told him what was appropriate to think on a date?
As they got to their table, Laxus pulled out one of the chairs, and awkwardly motioned for Freed to take it. Freed did, a little slowly, and let Laxus sweep him up with it. Once Freed was properly settled, and Laxus had told himself a hundred times that Freed would see it as romantic and not painfully awkward, Laxus took a seat on the other side of the table. The host said that their server would be soon over, leaving them alone. Together. On a date.
"You look a little nervous," Freed said gently. "You don't need to be."
"I'm not," Laxus said quickly. Nerves weren't sexy. Confidence was sexy.
"Are you sure?" Freed asked. "Because if you are-"
"I'm not," he insisted. Thoughts of his painful hour with Loke rushed back. They'd discussed this very situation and how to deal with it. He reached over and took Freed's hand in his own, and dammit they were calloused and rough and perfect. Fawning wasn't the plan. Stroking Freed's knuckles was. "It's just that you're so beautiful, it left me breathless."
Laxus felt like an idiot for even saying it. Freed must have sensed it, because he slowly said, "Right."
There was an awkward silence, and Laxus had to fight the urge to pull at the neck hole of his sweater, which was really starting to itch. He'd fucked it up, hadn't he? Already. Any chance of this thing becoming real, and he's messed it up. God dammit!
"Might I posit a theory?" Freed asked, and Laxus frowned, then nodded. "You see, what you just said to me was exactly the same thing that Loke did to me the day he was teaching me how to flirt for Blue Pegasus. Down to the stroking of my knuckles. That, to me, suggests he's been giving you tips. Now, I can't for a second imagine that you approached him, so clearly, he's gotten involved on his own accord. That, combined with us being in a restaurant that nobody without an extensive knowledge of the Fiore culinary world knows about, and you wearing clothes that you don't seem to be all that comfortable in, suggest that maybe you've been given some advice," he shifted so that he had Laxus' hands in his now. "Did the guild get into your head, perhaps?"
Laxus panicked. "No."
"Laxus."
"Yes," Laxus admitted. "Fine, they did. I really wanted this to go well, and I wanted you to see me as someone you could date. I mean, you're you and I'm me and I just got it in my head I needed to-"
"What do you mean I'm me and you're you?"
"Well, c'mon. You're this handsome, elegant, cool guy who tops the Wizard's I Want Drilling Me into the Mattress poll-"
"That's not what it's called."
"-and you can fit in with people and flirt and you know how to look cool and collected in pretty much any situation. You look good. You model. You make guys blush just by talking to them and you always bounce back no matter what you do. I'm just… some guy who you know."
Freed stayed silent for a moment, obviously considering, and he slowly removed his hands from Laxus. "Give me a second."
And then he stood and was walking away, and Laxus wanted the ground to swallow him up. Dumping what you thought about a guy then being self deprecating was not sexy and was a pretty surefire way to end a date. Even before he'd gotten all the advice, he could have figured that out. He'd royally fucked this up. The fact Freed wasn't running for the hills was a damn miracle.
What was Freed actually doing? Laxus watched him as he approached a couple two tables down. "May I have these?" He asked, reaching for their freshly served desserts. When they started to say that, no, obviously he couldn't, Freed didn't stop. He lifted them both and smirked. "Well, then stop me."
They didn't, and Freed walked over with two bowls filled with apple pie and custard. Laxus looked down at them. "If you wanna leave, just do. Don't need to rush to dessert."
"That's not what I'm doing."
Laxus wanted to ask what Freed was doing, but Freed did the most peculiar thing. He plunged his hand into one of the bowls, grabbed as push of the pie as he could, and smashed it on top of his head.
The restaurant fell silent, and everyone just looked at him. Laxus included.
Freed then reached into the other bowl and fished out the pie again, smearing it all over his face. He then hefted both bowls up and upturned them over his head, letting the custard drip down over his face and onto his pristine clothing. He messed it in, ruffling and staining the fabric with the sticky sweet mess.
"What the fuck?" Laxus asked, truly baffled.
"I don't think anyone would call me handsome, elegant or cool right now," Freed said, blinking away a blob of stewed apple. "I think if I tried to flirt, it would be unsuccessful, no self-respecting photographer would allow me to model for them, and I don't think there's a chance that I'll bounce back from this, if the look the manager is giving me is anything to go by."
"What the fuck?" Laxus repeated.
"I agreed to date you, Laxus. Not the odd, polished version of you you've been told you need to be," Freed spoke softly, and it might be romantic if he wasn't covered in pie. "Now, I've heard theres a fajita food truck in the east quarter. How about we get something to eat there, maybe a couple of beers, and we eat by the canal?"
"You-" Laxus felt his throat get dry. "You wanna do that?"
"More than anything," Freed smiled. "Although, even if you don't, we should leave. I think security might have been called."
Twenty minutes later, they were sitting on the edge of the canal, legs dangling over the edge as they ate their fajitas and sipped their beer. Their shoulders were just close enough to bump against each other from time to time, and since Laxus had his jacket resting beside him, he could feel Freed's warmth
"You know you really didn't have to do that," Laxus said at some point. "You got a lifetime ban."
"I'll cope. They seemed quite snobby anyway. And they made me pay for that couple's entire meal. I only ruined their dessert. Hardly fair at all."
"You probably scared them."
"If a little irrationality scares them, then they're weak," Freed huffed, and Laxus had to laugh.
"Are you not at least gonna clean some of the pie off ya. It can't feel good."
"Oh, it feels terrible, but I can't imagine those clothes are all that comfortable for you, so we suffer together," Freed nudged Laxus with his shoulder. "I do appreciate what you were trying to do. I do. But I'd much rather be on a date with the man I've known for ten years. He's quite wonderful, even if a little down on himself sometimes."
"Shut up."
"He cuts quite the figure. Can pull off leopard print like nobody else – I was hoping that's what you would wear, actually."
"Nearly did. Ever talked me out of it."
"Then she shall be decapitated on sight," Freed huffed, and Laxus somehow knew Freed's hand would be on his sword if he'd brought it, just to emphasise his farcical point. But he didn't. He just leant against Laxus as the sun set and looked at him. "I'm glad the night ended like this."
"Me too."
Freed kept looking at him, and Laxus found himself looking back.
In a quick movement, Freed leant up and pressed his lips against Laxus', soft and quick and a little tentative. Laxus' eyes blew wide, and he was brought back to every time he'd ever wondered what it would be like to kiss Freed. Even in that split second, it was better than any of the fantasied, and they'd always been quite wonderful.
"Sorry," Freed gasped. "I just felt-"
"Me too," Laxus quickly said. "That was… is it too much to say it was amazing?"
Freed smiled. "Not at all."
"Then it was amazing."
"It was," Freed grinned slyly. "Even if you had to face your irrational hatred of apple pie?"
Laxus paused. "How d'you know I hate apple pie?"
"The same reason that you knew to pass me the hot sauce when we were getting dinner," Freed shrugged. "We know each other. I also know that you don't like apple pie because you find it bitter, which is ridiculous because it's literally covered in sugar and-"
Laxus leant down, cupped Freed's slightly sticky cheek, and pulled him into a kiss. It was slow and lingering and perfect. All of Laxus' anxieties and doubting voices and worry bled away and were replaced by a total sense of utter rightness.
"Hey," Laxus whispered as he pulled back. He didn't know why.
"Hello," Freed whispered back.
They were kissing again moments later, as the sun set behind them.
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