#THE RIGHT TEMPERATURE AND THE RIGHT AMOUNT OF SPICE

[cannibalovers]

need hannibal to create his own perfume line

[itsjustrosee]

NEEDS Void Stiles x fem!reader

Context: Stiles and the reader have a flirty-friendship, but aren't in an established relationship. When Stiles gets possessed by the nogitsune, he comes to the readers house who is unaware that he's been possessed.

Warnings: Spice

Wordcount: 1.1k

You slept peacefully in your bed until your eyes began to flutter open. Your mind groggily catches up to you as you slowly adjust to the lack of light in your room. As you sit up slightly, you shiver at your bedroom's surprisingly low temperature.

Even within the comfort and safety of your bed, drowning in the endless sea of covers and blankets that had now engulfed it, you still found your teeth clattering against each other.

Your eyes dart to the window in your room, which you could've sworn you closed before you went to sleep, but for some reason, was open now. The window's curtains blew in the wind after yet another cold breeze entered your room.

You muttered a curse under your breath once you finally built up the courage to leave the warmth of your bed and shut the window. You planted both your feet on the frigid floor and crossed your arms against your chest.

Very slowly, you made your way to the window, letting out a huff as you used both hands to close it shut. You turned around and leaned your back on the window, closing your eyes and sighing as you did so.

Once you opened them however, you saw someone standing in front of your bedroom door. At first, you were under the impression that your mind was playing tricks on you, but as you continued staring at the tall figure leaning on your door with his arms crossed, you realized that this wasn't just a figment of your imagination.

"H-Hello?" You whisper at the person and for some reason, your half-asleep brain thought it would be a good idea if you took a step closer to him. Upon further inspection, you realized that there wasn't just some random crazed lunatic in your room, it was Stiles.

"Wait- Stiles? Is that you?"

"Yes, it is. Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," He replies, his voice genuine, yet so low and husky that it sent a shiver down your spine.

He pushed off the door and walked towards you, his eyes raking your body up and down, eyeing you as if he was trying to commit this image of you to his memory. As he stared at your bare legs you came to the realization that you were standing in front of him in just a pair of low-rise shorts and a small tank top.

"What are you doing here?" You ask curiously while crossing your arms in an attempt to cover up the amount of skin you have exposed.

"I just felt like paying you a visit," He says as a grin plays on the edges of his lips, "I've missed you," He adds, his voice growing quieter as he steps even closer to you, placing his hands lightly on your hips as he does so.

"Is that so?" You reply with a soft chuckle while leaning closer and placing your hands on his shoulders.

You didn't know what it was, but at that moment something was drawing you to him. You couldn't help but entertain whatever had gotten into him which had compelled him to be so bold towards you.

"Mhm," He mumbled as he moved one of his hands to your cheek, the skin on his palm was surprisingly warm, causing you to melt into his touch. Heat cast off of his body as he pulled you closer, your chest pressing against his.

Stiles's eyes darted from yours down to your lips as he continued to look at you. The air was filled with tension that radiated so powerfully of desire and longing that it clouded your better judgment.

"You really are gorgeous, you know that right?" Stiles murmured, as he tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear. His deep hazel eyes continue to stare at you, admiring all of your features.

You felt your cheeks grow red as Stiles took your chin in his fingers, lifting your head up and forcing you to return his gaze as your face was now only mere inches away from his. As you finally looked into his eyes, you noticed a glimmer of primal hunger behind them.

Suddenly he took your lips in his, encasing them in a long and passionate kiss. He continued to merge his lips against yours as he moved his hand from your cheek to the back of your head, his hand gently tugging at your hair as he kissed you harder.

You opened your mouth slightly, allowing Stiles's tongue to enter and explore every inch of it. As he continued to taste you, you moved your hands to the back of his neck.

Stiles pulled away momentarily, pushing you against your bedroom wall before picking up where he left off, claiming your lips once more in a hungry kiss. He brought his hands on the back of your upper thighs, signaling you to wrap your legs around his waist.

One of his hands stayed on your ass, keeping you propped up on the wall while the other began to trail up your torso, going under your tank top and cupping your breast.

You moaned into his mouth, his touch sending shockwaves through your body. After hearing the noise, Stiles's arousal only grew greater causing him to harden against his jeans.

His fingers found their way to your nipple, pinching it lightly between his thumb and index finger. Stiles groaned while his tongue continued to tangle with yours as you arched your back into him.

Stiles pulled away, biting down on your bottom lip slightly as he did so. He opened his mouth to speak, his heart beating against your chest as he caught his breath after the heated kiss you both shared.

"You're all mine," He growled possessively, a grin playing on his lips as he turned his attention to your neck, kissing and marking it with hickeys as he made his way down to your collarbone. He bites and then sucks on your sensitive skin, causing you to moan out in pain and pleasure.

Eventually, he brought his head back up to the side of yours before whispering into your ear, "I need more of you," He pleaded while nibbling slightly on your earlobe.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the ache between your legs growing more prominent. The tension in the room was electrifying as his eyes met yours.

"Whatever you need, I'll give it to you," You murmured softly.

Stiles grinned at you as if that was exactly what he had been waiting to hear you say. He encased your lips in one final kiss before carrying you to your bed.

ahhhh omg another stiles fic. Thought I should take a break from all the wholesomeness in my other fics with him 😜I'll start working on my requests now that I've finished this.

BTW THANK ALL OF YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT I'VE BEEN GETTING LIKE WHAT???? YOU GUYS ARE SO SWEET I'M LITERALLY ON THE FLOOR PASSING AWAY RIGHT NOW.

deadass tho, I love every single one of you, thank you for all of the notes, reblogs and comments, each and every one of them makes my day <33

[daydreamer-in-training]

The Promise

Shanks x Strawhat!gnReader

Description: your Captain, Luffy, makes you take up residency on the Red Revenge to keep you safe and heal from an injurys. But your presence makes it very difficult for the red-haired Captain to hold back his desires.

Word Count: 2.300+

Notes: Had this laying around for a while, not sure if i should post it :‘) but oh well, i wrote it, so it deserves to see the light of day.

Please note that Englisch is not my first language and i am very tired while uploading this :D Enjoy everyone! ✨

Themes: gender neutral Reader (i hope, I'm still getting used to this), mutual pining, sexual tension, hes older then the reader, Not NSFW but Spice, i am bad at Tags

Warnings: none, bit spicy but nothing explicit :‘D and the word „fuck“ is used once

Tag-list: @jintaka-hane

It was one of those evenings for the Red Pirates, the ones after the sun was up all day shining and has now sunken to give way to a beautiful night sky full of stars. The temperatures were mild, you didn't even need a jacket outside. The waves were gently moving against the soft sand at the shore the crew chose as their spot for tonight. You were with Shanks and his crew because Luffy had asked him to keep you safe, while he was on Wholecake Island to get their chef back. You were badly injured in your last fight, Chopper was worried your body would be damaged forever if you didn‘t take a prolonged break this time. So when the Strawhats met Shanks by coincidence, your captain took the opportunity without hesitation and asked him to keep you safe for a while.

Shanks would never say no to such a request from Luffy. He promised to protect you from any harm, even thought he knew it would take a lot of his selfcontrol to have you around for a prolonged amount of time.

You were upset at first, feeling left out and stupid for being so reckless and getting insured in the first place. But your face wouldn't be set in a frown for long. With laughter, food, and song, the Red Pirates made it easy for you to feel welcome in their midst, and your smile was back on your lips in no time.

Such a smile you have on your face right now.

The evening had turned into night and the men had emptied a few bottles of liquor already, leaving them swinging in each other's arms, singing and dancing. You were leaning against a tree stump Shanks was sitting on. Yassop made a funny quip that made the red-haired captain laugh.

Instantly you turned your eyes up to Shanks. It was almost happening automaticaly at this point. There was something special about him, you often pondered over what it was exactly that always pulled your gaze towards this man.

“Hey Shanks?!“ he looked at you, still laughing. “You´re pretty…you know?“, tilting your head, you gave him a smile. And you really meant it. It was the calmness in his gaze, or maybe the certainty in every one of his movements, the boyish way his eyes twinkled when he thought of the next adventure.

Shanks‘ heart skipped a beat. For a split second, his features slipped, one would barely notice. Smirking, he leaned down to you, taking a swing of his beer. The warm light of the bonfire danced on his face, enveloping it in a warm glow.

„Well you still won‘t get out of nightwatch like this, you know!?“. You both shared a hollering laughter at that.

“Pitty, it was worth a try,“ you said, standing up, stretching your arms out. You shot a last look over your shoulder down to him still sitting on the tree stump. „I mean it, though… " Then you walked off to your lookout spot for the night.

Shanks looked after you, his face becoming more serious. Pretty!? Him!? He knew he was ruggedly handsome, he was told that many times before, but pretty? With the stump that was now his arm and the scars across his face „pretty“ was definitely not what he would describe himself as.

He remembered that you saw him shirtless yesterday. It wasn‘t often that he didn‘t hide his arm behind his large cloak. Even after all these years, it was still a point of insecurity for him sometimes. Not that he doubted his abilities as a fighter and a leader, no. But he sometimes felt… less whole.

Looking at the fire before him, his hand raged through his hair as he let out a soft sigh, eyes wandering to the spot between the rocks where you had vanished a few moments ago. So you did find him attractive, even after seeing the scarred stump that was left of his arm. It made his heart clench.

Shanks wanted to suppress them, these feelings that your words stirred up inside his heart.

You had caught his eye from the moment he saw you for the first time, he didn‘t want to pay any mind to it at first. Just another pretty face and talented fighter after all.

But now he knew you! Knew of your dream, that Luffy encouraged you to make reality. Now he witnessed the kindness you gave others so freely and the courage you faced hardships with. He understood now, why Luffy chose you for his Nakama.

These feelings….these desires that grew in him weren‘t right. He wants to ignore them for your sake, for Luffys sake. He made a promise to him after all. But your words right now had stirred up a deep and urgent want for you inside of him. He chastised himself for faltering so quickly, only after two weeks with you around.

Later that night, when he was alone in his cabin, his thoughts wandered to you again and again, the book he chose as a distraction did little to help him out.

You were lying with him, your naked body pressed against his own beneath his silken sheets. His hand was tangled in your beautiful hair while he gazed at you. Your lips swollen from his administrations, your cheeks tinted with the afterglow of what you two just did. Your soft hand cupped his face, thumb brushing against his scars while you put little butterfly kisses on his neck. “So pretty…“ you whispered in his ear.

No! He turned the page of his book, trying to find the drawing of a tree on the following page very interesting. But oh, how he wanted to hear it from you again. How he wanted to feel your soft touch while you whispered those sweet things to him.

“Please Shanks“ soft moans left your lips “…more… I want you to touch me more!“. Now, you were lying underneath him, and your sobbing pleas were music to his ears. Your body gently rocked back and forth, looking up at him with lust-clouded eyes. You took his hand gently and put it on your chest, biting your lip. “A-Ah! Please Shanks…“.

“Fuck…“ his lips turned into a snarl as he closed the book and put it on his nightstand. His pants were uncomfortably tight. This night will be one of torture, especially with him knowing you were awake and alone on deck.

He wanted you. He wanted to feel you around him. To make you moan his name like a prayer. He wanted the whole bay to hear who makes you feel so good.

“This is not good“…“ his head fell back in defeat.

Eventually, the sun came up again, its gentle rays warming your skin as it rose above the ocean, twinkels dancing across the watersurface.

Leaning against the railing, you smiled to yourself, being happy your night shift had ended uneventfully. Suddenly however, goosebumps crawl up your neck, making you shudder.

It was Shanks, coming up a few steps behind you quietly, but he was different from his usual self. His aura felt tense, maybe even angry. His hazel eyes were boring into your back.

“You know… I finally know why you are pretty to me“ you said despite shuddering quietly when you felt him approach you further “It's in your eyes… you have seen so much hardship and pain, yet your eyes are kind and your laughter is warm,“ you are still looking at the horizon.

Shanks was now standing directly behind you, making you shudder once more, harder this time. His presence was always noticeable, yes, but this time it was much more intense than you ever felt before.

“Please stop it, saying these things… I mean it“ his tone of voice was calm but stern. You chuckled nervously to lighten the mood “It's just a harmless compliment, Shanks.“

His seriousness made butterflies eruppt in your stomach. The breath stuck in your throat as he took one more step closer to you, his chest touching your back now, his warm breath on your neck.

“I don't know if I can protect you anymore when you go on like this,“ his deep voice resonated deep in your core. His sudden closeness made your knees tremble and you held on to the reeling for support. You knew he noticed your heart beating faster, it made your face feel warm.

“Why…. Why can`t you protect me anymore, Shanks?“, it wasn‘t supposed to come out as a bashful whisper, yet your voice failed you. You turned your head slightly to look at him from the courners of your eyes, involuntarily exposing your neck.

Shanks' adamsapple bobbed, why do you have to make it so hard? His hand gripped the reeling next to your hand, knuckles white. An attempt of his body to not grab you by the hip and pull your body towards his. But it was an insufficient substitude.

“Because it makes me wanna do things to you…“ his breath was brushing against your ear as he spoke “…so many things…“, his voice was barely a whisper at this point, his chest going up and down, now pressed to your back fully.

Goosebumps were crawling up your spine. „Is that supposed to scare me, Shanks?“ you said, biting your lip, unfaced by his sad attempt to get you to stop. „Because it doesn‘t… not at all…“.

In a moment of bravery, you turned around all the way, to look him in the eyes - and your heart stuttered.

His hazel eyes were boring into you so intensively, aflame with desire and frustration. You could tell by how tense he was that he was trying not to do anything brash.

His eyes were scanning your face intently for any discomfort you might feel, but there was none to find. Your cheeks were blushed while you looked up at him with big eyes, your brows furrowed in anticipation. Your gaze fell to his lips, then up to his eyes again.

When did his face get so close to yours? He should be leaning away, not in.

Shanks opened his mouth to say something, his words failing him, he was to transfixed by your presence.

“May I… kiss you?“, you breathed out, closing your eyes as noses brushed against each other.

That made his last bit of willpower crumble. “You don‘t know what you are getting yourself into“, he murmured lowly against your lips, brows knit together in the centre of his face. His large hand found its place on your back, pressing you against his torso gently.

When his lips found yours, you let out a soft sigh. He slowly and passionately moved his lips to taste yours, making you melt into him. You found yourself slowly reciprocating his movements as you held him closer to you.

Your hands found their way to his broad chest, trying to give you the stability your knees were not capable of giving you any more. With one swift swoop, he lifted you up and you slung your legs around his hips. He found himself wanting more real quick. A low hum escaped him as he deepened the kiss by gently shoving his tongue into your mouth to explore it. You gripped onto his arm for support, little gasps and whines escaped you as you let him take over.

He let go of your lips, not without biting your lower lip playfully. Both of your chests were rising and falling from the passion you just shared. You stayed close to one another, sharing the air between you as you wordlessly stared into each other's eyes.

A deep growl left his throat when he saw your shy, red face and that glimmer of want and need in your eyes that he had sparked in you. Your hand was holding onto his broad shoulder, the other one grazing his hair softly.

Oh, he wants to do anything with you he fantasized about for the past few days, if you‘d let him. His… only his… even if it's just for a bit.

Your head was spinning from the kiss, Shanks was still holding you up, your breasts pressed against his broad chest as you held onto him.

“Tell me,“ you whispered against his lips, still trying to catch your breath “What do you want to do to me?“ you gazed at his eyes alluringly, your hand slowly going up and down his neck. “I want to know it all.“

He shuddered slightly and closed his eyes for one moment to collect the scraps of willpower he still had left. In the back of his mind, he had the small hope one kiss would be enough to quell his desires. But it had the opposite effect.

Your soft touches made him weak and wanting more. He whispered your name as he opened his eyes to look deeply into yours, voice hoarse from frustration. “I am a lonely man and I‘ve been at sea for months now without-“ he stopped himself, thinking what to say. “What do you think you are doing to me? What do you think I want to do with a gorgeous person such as you?!“ as he opened his eyes again, they were clouded with desire, darkening for a moment.

A shudder crept down your spine, pooling in your core as his rough voice tingled in your ear, his beard scratching your delicate skin as he mouthed at your cheek. Your legs still wrapped around him, and you got close to his ear, hiding your red face. “I think you want to make me scream your name all night long…“. You slowly started to move your hips, wanting more friction. His hand squeezed your buttcheek out of reflex, making you whimper. “And I-“, you had to suppress a whimper, as you felt his lips press to your neck. “I want you to show me all these things you want to do to me.“

Shanks felt your heart hammering against the skin of his chest as you said it. Another growl escaped him. How could he deny you and himself now?! “Let‘s go to my cabin…“ he huffed, feeling the smile on your lips against his neck “...and I will tell you what I will do to you in great detail.“

.

[reality-detective]

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Ingredients

1/2 cup raw honey

1-2 tbsp coconut oil

2 tsp turmeric powder

2 tsp cinnamon powder

2 tsp ginger powder

1/2 tsp black pepper

Mix all the ingredients together and stir well. Pour the mixture in a glass jar with a lid and store in room temperature. You can always cut down the portions of spices to 1 tsp if you find it too strong. 🤔

[lifebeginsbyleaving]

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. 

[bomber-grl]

Flufftober 2024

Day 3: Farmers Market

Pairing(s): Hiro Hamada x Gn!Reader

You’d never been to a Farmers market with Hiro before, and so that’s what you decided you two should do on Saturday.

The only thing that sprung the whole idea was when you were entering the lucky cat cafe and saw a poster promoting it on the outside of the door.

You quickly ripped off the poster and ran to hiro with it. Hiro was more than cooperative with your plans and Cass had happened to pass by his door.

That’s when she found out about your little date (as she called it) and told you two that she’d be happy to give you some money if you don’t have any and to bring along Baymax.

Hence why now that you’re at the market, everyone is walking on the right side of the path rather than on the left side- where Baymaxs humongous self resided behind you and Hiro.

You two- rather three, had been looking around seeing anything you could buy and on the look out for some stuff Cass had asked for you two to buy for her.

The walk so far had been uneventful, except for the fact that Hiro was walking next to you on your right wearing a thicker jacket than usual now that it was a bit chillier.

You became overly conscious of your arm that laid still by your side except for the occasional swing. You flexed your hand a little and moved it to graze against Hiros.

Hiro immediately tensed up besides you but overall didn’t seem to address it yet, maybe he thought it was on accident.

To dispose of that possible thought, you quickly grabbed Hiros hand and encased it in yours. His reaction was immediate, he whipped his head to look at you in disbelief and his face had turned into a funny tomato color.

You had forgotten Baymax was behind you two but was soon reminded when he spoke up, addressing hiro: “I have detected an abrupt spike in your heart rate and body temperature near your facial region. This may indicate a cause for concern-“

Hiro quickly turned to Baymax and began trying to cover his mouth despite not having the desired affect of shutting him up.

Luckily Baymax seemed to have gotten the message and soon quieted down thereafter, although not before thoroughly embarrassing Hiro.

He was so weird sometimes. He was either teasing and sassy or the big flustered mess that he’s now been made into.

He grumbled and put his face in his hands after he sent Baymax off to find some stuff asked for by Cass.

“Hiro-“ you tried to reassure him but got quickly interrupted “don’t say anything”

A small silence followed before he let out a small “please” at the end.

You two stood there in the middle of the path (?) before he finally had the courage to look you in the eye.

“Sorry I just, I don’t know- affection and stuff are.. new to me” his eyes quickly gaze elsewhere, anywhere but you really.

You let out what could only be described as a good natured laugh. Hiro knew that it wasn’t malicious but still felt even more embarrassed even so.

“Yea, funny how your personality can do a whole 180 sometimes.” Want to get some fudge?” You quickly changed the topic to point at a stall not to far from where you two currently were.

Luckily that seemed to have lifted Hiros spirits and caused any previous awkwardness to dissipate.

He was now back to his normally annoying self.

Soon enough, Baymax came back with too many spices and jams to count despite still having a good amount of money left.

Luckily, he was able to lug it around as you two began to wrap up your business here and go home. After another pastry or two, homebound you went.

You three were soon approaching the entrance- now exit of the market when you felt a hand slip into yours. The surprise of it caused you to look at your suspected culprit immediately after.

Though, you were unfortunately not able to see his face as he pointedly hid it from you, knowing you’d tease him to death for it.

There was a disadvantage of it when Hiro accidentally tripped on a rock, luckily Baymax managed to catch him before he face planted.

-

A/n: bit shorter

[najia-cooks]

[ID: Mahlab seeds, aniseed, fennel seeds, and mastic in the center of a plate, surrounded by piles of the same spices in powdered form. End ID]

دقة كعك فلسطينية / Dugga ka'k falastinia (Palestinian spice blend for cakes)

دُقَّة كَعْك ("dugga ka'k"; "cake powder")—also known as "بَهَار الكَعْك" ("bahār al-ka'k"; "cake spice") or "بَهَارَات الكَعْك‎" ("bahārāt al-ka'k"; "cake spices")—is a blend of spices used in Palestinian cakes and sweet pastries. Even when a recipe doesn't call for the blend explicitly, you'll often spot its components in the ingredients list: aniseed, fennel, mahlab, and mastic.

"دُقَّة" is a noun meaning "fine powder." It comes from the verb "دَقَّ" ("daqqa": Levantine pronunciation, "dagga" or "da'a"), meaning "to crush," "to grind," or "to powder." The verb is of the root pattern "د ق ق" (d q q), which produces words related to accuracy and precision (and thus, to small measures of things): compare "دِقّة‎" ("diqqa") "accuracy"; "دَقِيقَة" ("daqīqa") "minute" (the measure of time); and "دَقِيق" ("daqīq"), which means both "accurate" and "flour, meal."

"كَعْك" refers to pastries including cookies, tarts, buns, and cakes; it is related to the Aramaic "כַּעְכָּא"‎ ("ka'kā") "cake."

This spice blend is used for pastries including مَعْمُول ("ma'mūl")—date-filled semolina cookies—and فَتُوت ("fatūt‎"), a soft, sweet flatbread from Nablus. The sweet, liquorice-like fennel and aniseed, the mahlab's notes of fruit and almond, and the mastic's smell of cedar and citrus combine to make a delicately aromatic blend that gives an incredible depth of scent and flavor when small amounts are added in with flour.

Recipe under the cut!

Ingredients:

2 Tbsp (11g) aniseed (يانسون)

2 Tbsp fennel seeds (شمره / شومر)

2 tsp (7g) mahlab seeds (محلب) (or 2 tsp mahlab powder, packed)

1/4 tsp (.8g) mastic granules (مستكة)

Pinch of granulated sugar

Pinch of grated nutmeg (optional)

Aniseed, fennel, and mahlab are essential to this blend. Mastic is usually included. Small amounts of nutmeg and cinnamon are also possible additions. Some people also include a very small amount of a commercial "ريحة الكعك" ("riha al-ka'k" "cake scent”)—also known as "كلفة كعك" ("kulfa al-ka'k")—which might contain sweet spices such as cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, and allspice, as well as camphor (كَافُور), Arab yeast (خميرة العرب), bay laurel leaves, and rose hips (ذر الورد), depending on where it is sourced.

The word "يانسون" ("yansoun") can be used to refer to aniseed or to star anise (or to a beverage brewed with aniseed); in this context, it invariably refers to aniseed. Aniseed is an oval-shaped seed—smelling of liquorice, and looking a bit like cumin, fennel, or caraway, but much smaller—with a body that tapers in towards the stem end. It can be found at a halal grocery store.

Mahlab seeds may be found at a halal grocery store, though you are more likely to find it in pre-ground form. The whole seeds may also be purchased online. Mahlab should be purchased in small quantities and kept in the refrigerator or even the freezer, as it will go rancid after several months at room temperature.

Mahlab seeds (left); aniseed (top); fennel seeds (bottom)

Mastic gum is the resin produced by the mastic tree. It is also known as mastika (مستكة), mastiha, muskeh, and masticha (Μαστίχα / μαστίχα). It may be labelled "arabic gum," but should not be confused with gum arabic, which is the sap of the acacia tree. Mastic is in the form of pale yellow droplets, not overly angular, usually the size of peas or smaller; gum arabic is a darker amber to reddish color, and has sheer angles. Mastic should smell of pine when ground. Ask at your local halal grocery store, as it may be behind the counter.

Mastic (bottom); not to be confused with tragacanth gum / goond katira (top left); or gum arabic / acacia gum / char goond (top right)

Instructions:

1. Toast fennel seeds in a dry skillet on medium heat, agitating often, until fragrant and a shade darker. Set aside on a plate to cool. Repeat with aniseed and mahlab seeds.

2. Remove skillet from heat and toast any pre-ground spices, agitating constantly, for about 30 seconds.

3. Grind mastic with a pinch of sugar in a mortar and pestle. Grind aniseed, fennel, and mahlab in a mortar and pestle or using a spice mill. Add nutmeg and mix.

You may be able to grind everything together in a spice mill if you're making a larger batch. Don't put mastic in a spice mill alone, as it can stick to the blades.

4. Store in an airtight container in a cool, dark place.

[forkfulofflavor]

Apple Crisp Cheesecake Bread Ingredients: Crisp Topping: 1/3 cup all-purpose flour 1/3 cup quick-cooking oats 1/3 cup light brown sugar 3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted Cinnamon-Sugar Mixture: 3 tablespoons light brown sugar 3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon Apple Mixture: 2 medium apples (e.g., Granny Smith or Gala), peeled and diced into 1/2-inch pieces 2 tablespoons granulated sugar 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon Bread: 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/2 cup unsalted butter, room temperature 2/3 cup granulated sugar 2 eggs, room temperature 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract 1/2 cup milk Cheesecake Filling: 8 oz cream cheese, softened 1/3 cup granulated sugar 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 egg Glaze: 3/4 cup powdered sugar 2 tablespoons milk or cream 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract Instructions: Prepare the Pan and Oven: Grease a 9x5-inch loaf pan with baking spray, line with parchment paper, leaving an overhang for easy lifting. Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C), placing the rack in the lower third of the oven. Make the Crisp Topping: In a bowl, mix flour, oats, brown sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Add melted butter and combine with a fork until the mixture is evenly moistened. Refrigerate until ready to use. Prepare Cinnamon-Sugar and Apples: In a small bowl, mix brown sugar and cinnamon for the cinnamon-sugar mixture; set aside. Toss diced apples with 2 tablespoons sugar and 1 teaspoon cinnamon; set aside. Prepare the Bread Batter: In a large bowl, beat the softened butter with granulated sugar and vanilla until creamy. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing after each addition. In another bowl, mix flour, baking powder, and salt. Add the dry mixture to the butter mixture, mixing until combined. Gradually pour in milk, mixing until smooth. Scrape down the bowl with a spatula. Make the Cheesecake Filling: In a medium bowl, beat cream cheese, granulated sugar, flour, and vanilla until smooth. Add the egg and mix just until combined. Assemble the Bread: Spread half of the bread batter into the prepared loaf pan. Scatter half of the apple mixture over the batter and sprinkle with half of the cinnamon-sugar mixture. Spoon the cheesecake filling over the apples, spreading gently without reaching the edges. Top with the remaining bread batter, smoothing the surface. Scatter remaining apples over the top and sprinkle with the crisp topping. Bake: Bake for 55-70 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. If needed, tent with foil after 30-40 minutes to prevent over-browning. Cool in the pan for 20-30 minutes, then use parchment paper to lift the bread onto a cooling rack. Make the Glaze: In a small bowl, mix powdered sugar, milk (or cream), and vanilla until smooth. Drizzle over cooled bread. Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cooking Time: 60 minutes | Total Time: 80 minutes Calories: 380 kcal | Servings: 8 servings The Apple Crisp Cheesecake Bread combines the best of autumn’s flavors in one delicious loaf. Tender chunks of cinnamon-spiced apples are layered with a creamy cheesecake filling, creating a moist, rich center. A crunchy oat and cinnamon topping adds the perfect contrast in texture, with just the right amount of buttery crispness to make every bite satisfying. Ideal for cozy fall mornings or a sweet treat after dinner, this bread is sure to be a crowd-pleaser. With layers of flavor and texture, it’s a beautiful representation of autumn’s bounty and is as visually appealing as it is delicious. Serve it warm with a drizzle of vanilla glaze for an extra touch of indulgence!

[sasquapossum]

Awesome Chowder Recipe

Here’s a recipe for what I rather immodestly call my Awesome Chicken Corn Chowder. It’s not quick, either in hands-on time or total time, but it’s so good. Amounts are approximate, because this is just not the kind of recipe where precision matters all that much.

First, make the stock. I like to do this by buying a rotisserie chicken at the store, carving it up normally for one meal, then using the rest to make stock. First, remove all the usable meat - yield is usually a couple of cups’ worth for us - and save it for later. Then toss the rest in a Dutch oven, cover with salted water, and let it simmer for a couple of hours. I like to add a lot of thyme and a little marjoram too. Or you can skip this part and buy stock at the store ... but then you won’t have the meat as well. You’re on your own for that part.

For the soup itself, the first part is to peel, cube, and boil four large(ish) potatoes just like you would for mashed, but using the stock. You might need a little extra water to cover, and that’s OK but it should be mostly stock. While that’s happening - about twenty minutes - you can prepare the rest.

Cut up about half a pound of bacon and fry it up. The smokier the better. Kayem makes a great double-smoked bacon that’s too strong for most uses but perfect for this.

While you’re cooking the bacon, cut up a large sweet (e.g. Vidalia) onion, then take out the bacon and cook the onion in the fat. It’s a chowder. More fat is good.

While you’re cooking the onions (I love how this all fits together), cut up the chicken you saved earlier.

By this time the spuds should be done. Drain the water into a bowl - not the sink!- because you’ll be using it in a moment. Save half the spuds whole (well cubed), then mash the rest. This is the essential step, thickening up the final result to just the right chowder-y consistency. Now put everything in your Dutch oven.

Whole spud cubes

Mashed spuds

Bacon

Onion

Chicken

One can of creamed corn

One cup (or more) of thawed frozen corn

My final ingredient is a generous amount of Trader Joe’s umami powder - mostly various kinds of dried mushroom, but also a bunch of other spices so I don’t have to add those separately. I sprinkle on enough to cover the whole surface, maybe a couple of tablespoons. Hard to go wrong, really.

Next, let it simmer for a couple of hours. Most people would do this on the stove top, but I like to toss the whole thing in the oven for better temperature control. Just give it a stir once in a while. When time’s up, finish by adding heavy cream until the color and taste suit your preference - usually about a cup or so for me.

As I said, it’s not quick, but at the end you’ll have a big batch of super rich, hearty soup. All you need to go with that is a good robust bread - a local bakery makes anadama which is perfect for this - and that’s a meal to remember.

[umihoshi]

some tips for people who just started living on their own

It's been 4 years now, and I'm not regretting a single day that I moved out. No more adapting to what my parents want, no more reporting where I'm going or who I'm bringing over, I can create my save haven the way I like it. For me, it was really the start of becoming myself.

But, there's a bunch of stuff here and there that would've been nice if I had known it from the get-go. And I thought: let's share them!

1 what appliances to invest in?

one thing that is going to come back every single day is cooking. and food is expensive AF if you're not careful. I found 2 great ways to save a bunch of money and they both rely on one thing: Invest in a good freezer! Many grocery stores have systems where they price down things that are close to the shelf life date. One of our local grocery stores can go up to 70% discount! But the problem with those is, you need to eat it right away.... OR DO YOU??? Freezing things close to expiring will let them last for a full freaking month extra. and vegetables go even longer. Plenty of time to use it when you need it (just don't forget to thaw) Be careful though: once you thawed it, you can't freeze it again.

Items are usually also WAY cheaper if you buy them in bulk. Chop them up and in the freezer they go! This one's also great if you don't always have the energy or drive to cook: cook up a large pot of whatever you like, put it in containers and freeze them. I always like doing so with pasta sauce and then cook the pasta fresh~ But it also works great with stews, curry and other types of sauces. stores like IKEA have containers that are just the right size for one meal.

For some of you, the next one may be a no-brainer, but.... My mom was really proud of how fast she was with doing the dishes. She was always like 'why get a dishwasher, I'm faster if I do it myself'. And I have lived up to that same idea up until half a year ago. My kitchen was always a mess, I didn't feel like cooking, inviting people over was embarrassing. I exhausted myself every time visitors would come and I had to fight that monster pile. Please, if you recognize these problems: invest in a dishwasher. Life became SO MUCH easier. My house is clean, my mind is more at ease, social contact increased cuz it's not as big a hassle to clean before guests show up. I really wish I wouldn't have wasted those 3 years fighting a monster that was this easy to tackle in the end...

2 easy cooking

Though it's also a bit of an investment: cooking becomes fucking easy with an airfryer. No oil is added, so it's a bunch healthier. you just put the temperature and timer and it's done. and a lot of things can just fry simultaneously. chuck in some meat and potato's at 400F (200C) for 20 minutes and all you'll have to worry about is adding some vegies with it. springrolls, pizza, potato's, meat. it all gets nice and crunchy too. (prepare vegies in a rice cooker for the same don't-have-to-keep-an-eye-on-it experience. you can cook them simultaneously with rice too!)

Something that became one of my fave dishes of the late is 'stir fried whatever'. it goes like this: Bake whatever meat you fancy, great with egg or tofu too. add whatever vegies (straight out of the freezer is fine). add stir fry sauce in whatever amount seems nice (little for coating, more if you want it to be saucy). make some carbs and you're fucking DONE! no measuring, no thinking what spices to use, it goes with anything and everything. and your local grocery has probably like 5 different flavors. (or at least, it does here. dunno if that's true for America...) like it creamy? add half a cup of soya milk. it takes like 10 minutes tops (not counting the cooking of rice/pasta/potato/bread)

3 think in money or think in space

With tricks like a good freezer, saving money with discount products becomes a whole lot easier. But there are also different discount products that can save you a lot of money. my mom always used to buy like.... packs of 4 toilet rolls. and if you calculate it, buying 3x4 rolls is so much more expensive than buying a 12 pack. But what you'll need for that is space. Try keeping account of a spot like that in your house. cupboard underneath the sink, the spot where they installed the boiler, top shelves you don't often use cuz it's high up, on top of the fridge, garage. I live in an apartment and have a small storage space for my bicycle. Perfect spot for non-consumables. (be careful to keep them out of reach for mice) think toilet paper, tissues, cat litter, soap, shampoo, toothpaste. they'll be good in 2 years too, and you'll still be needing them all the same. I once found this 6 pack of toothpaste for like 3,-! aint no one selling 1 tube for 0,50 when I buy it once I need it.

dunno if this is of any use to someone, but I hope this can help out anyone to safe some money, time or energy! Because it sure did for me.

[horselessheadperson]

Here's what I want you to do.

I want you to figure out a carb you really enjoy. Then, I want you to find the best possible way to make that carb. You like white bread? Get some bread flour and figure out a lovely no knead recipe. You like rice? Heck, get a ten pound bag of the best rice you can afford at the local Asian supermarket, figure out how to get it nice and fluffy, find the aromatics you can afford and incorporate them. If you prefer potatoes, maybe you like them sauteed in butter, or baked with the peel on and then covered in cheese. Maybe you only really like the sourdough whole wheat they have at the local bakery that you can't afford every day, but sometimes you do.

Then I want, no, need you to figure out a lovely protein you vibe with. You can get some lovely seitan to marinate (nothing fancy, just oil with some spices and a bit of lemon juice). Maybe the local butcher is having a sale and you can get some chicken legs or even a nice cut of lamb. Are there any Turkish shops nearby or maybe a Maroccan or Chinese butcher? Amazing. Try what they have. You can figure out how to properly press tofu that was frozen and then thawed, so it really absorbs all the flavour you put into it.

Whatever it is, you're going to roast that protein with some fat and aromatics until it's at a safe temperature. Don't have an oven? Doesn't matter, braise it. You can add stock or wine, or just water if this week's tight. As long as there's some fat and salt in there, you just gotta add the right amount of heat.

Next you're gonna get the nice vegetables that are on sale at the supermarket or farmer's market. Don't get anything expensive, in fact the cheaper the more local and in season it probably is, just get something that looks juicy. Either figure out how to add the best dressing to that you can find, or cook it down with some salt and pepper, add some oil, I'm sure you have it down by now. God, just now I'm thinking of some braised green pumpkin, topped with some nice caramelised or pickled onions. Oh the joy of quick pickled veggies!

When you've completed these quests I want you to find a nice spot to sit down and get yourself the biggest plate you can find. You're going to want some company. You can get someone you love to join you, but sometimes you just want to think things through while you eat - I come up with some of my best ideas by eating in silence. You can watch a show or prop up a book and read. Sometimes I just listen to babble on the radio.

What you're going to do is forget any and all health advice you were ever given, you're not going to even spare a thought to calories or weight or proportions; I want you to pile that plate as high as you can. Maybe you only want three bites today! That's fine, and if you want two helpings an hour later you can go nuts. Maybe you want an entire roast chicken to yourself tonight and nothing can stop you.

Food is so amazing, you guys. Having the ability to taste food and be creative with it, learn a new skill, develop a palate and enjoy what you put together with love and attention is so wonderful. There's so much to discover out there!

Oh, and get a nice snack for while you're cooking. I like pitted kalamata olives or slices of cheese.

I love you!

[scarlettriot]

❄️ Retreat ❄️

• Pairing: Bakugo & Meg @meggsngrits

• Warnings: SMUT | Minors & Ageless blogs DNI. Excess of Fluff(?)

• Contains: Bakugo in his late 20s. Drinking. Clothes torn. Not much else besides that tooth-rotting fluff. Nicknames Used: baby, babe, baby girl.

• A/N: This fic is a part of my Winter Writing Event, specially written for @/meggsngrits! Thank you so much for partaking, Meg, and I really hope you enjoy your Holi-Date with Katsu. The event is still ongoing so if anyone else would like to participate, just follow the link.

• Word Count: 1,800ish

It was a well-known fact that Katsuki hated winter. He despised the cold. He would always scowl up at the sky the very moment snow started to fall as if it personally offended him. The only thing that made him tolerate winter was that the cold always gave him an excuse to hold your hand. Not that he needed one. 

As his girlfriend, you were always happy to hold the pro hero's hand but sometimes Katsuki wasn’t too big on public displays of affection. However, that went all out the window the moment the temperature plummeted. 

Suddenly the blonde was looking for every possible reason to be all over you! He’d nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck, hide among your long chestnut hair while his hands burrowed in the pouch of your hoodie, seeking out much-needed warmth. 

His friends would tease him relentlessly for it. The big, tough, pro hero couldn't handle a little winter chill, but he’d just mutter a swear that they couldn’t even make out thanks to him refusing to lift his face away from you. 

All that teasing made him want to just hide away with you even more. Steal you all for himself and shut out the rest of the world for a while. Hunker down with you under a mound of the most comfortable blankets he could get his hands on. Pretty soon, that desire was starting to grow, and it wasn’t much later that Katsuki found himself booking a little cabin for you two to sneak away for a long weekend. 

It was the perfect pre-holiday vacation. 

This would be the first time you got to experience Christmas with each other's families, and he knew you’d need some peace to mentally prepare yourself for the madness that was a Bakugo family Christmas. 

And he was pretty sure he could use the time too since it seemed your family also liked to get a little wild given all the stories you shared of shooting guns and building bonfires. 

To be honest, you’d probably need a pre and post-vacation! But, one thing at a time.

The cabin was perfect by both your standards. Tucked away in the woods, far away from the busy city, where you two could just relax and enjoy each other's company. 

“‘M gonna go get some firewood. Pick out a move, yeah?” Katsuki kissed the top of your head before snuggly wrapping the scarf around his neck even though he’d be outside for less than a couple minutes. 

It gave you enough time to go into the small kitchen and start making two mugs of hot chocolate and get out the tin of popcorn kernels since you'd decided on a movie long ago. 

Katsuki was shivering when he stomped back inside, kicking the door closed behind him. His arms piled high with enough wood to ensure he wouldn’t have to go back out for more, not tonight, at least. 

“Somethin’ smells good.” He shed his coat and made his way to you just like a magnet. Wrapping those thick arms right around your middle so he could warm up again. He hummed softly, breathing in the rich scent of the warm drink. 

“Want some rum in yours?” 

“You even gotta ask?” He chuckled and reached around to grab the bottle of rum for himself and chocolate liquor for you. 

Wimp, he called you the first time you tried his cup of cocoa and spiced rum many weeks ago. He’d never forget the way your nose scrunched up.

So, he poured a hearty amount of rum into his mug and the liquor in yours before you topped them off with a generous amount of whipped crème. 

Katsuki built up the fire and filled the old-timey popcorn popper with kernels while you prepared the blankets and DVD. “What’re we watching?” He asked and gave the popper a good shake. 

“Tangled.” You beamed. 

“Fuckin’ of course we are.” He rolled his eyes, “You do know Disney has made other movies, right?” 

You sat cross legged on the sofa with the big popcorn bowl just waiting in your lap. “Yeah. But this is the best!” 

There was no point in arguing. He learned that a long time ago. And, honestly, it wasn’t such a horrible movie. Others were way worse, like the one with the sleeping chick.  

It wasn’t long before the sounds of popping kernels, and the tell-tale Disney intro filled the cabin. The bowl of popcorn sat in your lap, and Katsuki had you curled up in his. 

The lights were extinguished, save the glow of the crackling fire. Flynn’s voice began telling you about the sun drop that fell from the sky and made the magic golden flower... Your boyfriend watched with a slight smile on his face as you recited damn near every word. 

You got so invested in a movie you’ve seen countless times, and he still thinks that has to be one of the sweetest things about you. The way you sing along with the songs. How you gasp even though you know exactly what’s about to happen. And the way your eyes look so soft during the lantern scene. 

Under the blanket, he’s tracing the three little words onto your skin again without even realizing it. It'd become a habit of his now, one he has no intention of breaking. And, just like the first time he’d done it, you turned away from the movie to face him. Pressing a kiss to his lips, “I love you too, Katsu.” 

You try to pull away, but the kiss was just a little too short for his liking, and he doesn’t hesitate to bring you right back to him. He slips your glasses off and sets them on the end table, never once breaking the kiss. 

“How’m I supposed to watch the movie now?” 

“Think you’ve seen the movie enough times…” 

He tried to move you under the blanket, and the empty popcorn bowl clattered to the floor, but neither of you paid it any mind. Too engrossed in one another to give a damn about anything else right now. 

When he's got your gorgeous legs straddling his hips, how could he want for anything more? Scarred hands knead your ass, slipping under the short pajama bottoms so he could get a proper feel. 

His hips rocked up into yours, and he pressed you down against his length shamelessly, letting you know exactly what he wanted. A throaty groan left him when you start to grind, hanging onto your hips while you moved them however you damn well pleased. “Little fuckin’ brat. Such a tease.” He smirked as he said it and did everything he could to refrain from tearing the shorts right off you. 

“You like it.” You quipped right back. 

“Wrong, baby girl,” what little restraint he had slipped away, and your shorts ripped to shreds, “I fuckin’ love it.” 

For a moment, he thought you might say something about the destruction of your pajama bottoms, but then that smirk he loves so damn much settled on your face, and you’re practically clawing at his sweats. 

“Needy f’me, huh?” Two of his digits slipped easily between your folds and sink into you. His wrist flicked, moving to pump them in and out a couple times before he pressed on that spot you love so much. 

Watching you like this is better than any movie he could ever put on. The way the blanket falls, settling around your hips, how your eyes can barely stay open, or the way your cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink. 

“Don’t cum yet, ‘kay?” 

“Ki—!” You cried, and he almost felt bad. 

“You can handle it. Know you can…” 

His fingers work even quicker, bringing you right to the edge and then pulling back so only his thumb is left teasing your clit. 

There’s really no time to complain though, not when the head of his cock was resting at your entrance, and you could see him working your slick along his shaft. 

He looked up and waited to see that little nod of your head, letting him know you were ready for him. Both his hands hold your thick hips steady, and he slowly presses in, inch by inch, until you’re nestled in his lap once more. 

His head fell back, “Meg, fuck, feel so fuckin’ good, baby.” 

He squeezed your hips tight, your skin pudged out between his fingers in the cutest way as he lifted you off him just enough so he could thrust up into your cunt. 

You didn’t have to do a single thing. Just had to let him hold you up and stuff you full, over and over, until both of you were satisfied. 

But, holding you up quickly became him bouncing you on his cock. Thrusting and moving you to meet him halfway while listening to the prettiest sounds he’s ever heard. 

“Squeezin’ me s’tight. Gonna cum? Yeah, you are, can fuckin’ feel it.” 

Just for a second he thought about making you wait again while he switched positions. Thinking about bending you over the arm of the sofa or how good you’d look with your tits pressed against the cool window while he rails you from behind. 

There were so many ways he wanted to have you, and he would, this was just the first of many this weekend after all…

“Go on then. Cum on my cock, baby. Lemme feel you.” Your nails bit into his chest, he could feel them even through the cotton shirt, “That’s it. That’s a good girl. Oh, fuck—!” 

Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing him just right. That was his hint to pick up the pace and chase down his own release. “Katsu—! Ahh—!” He hears your cries, felt your nails threaten to rip his shirt, and he didn’t care. He was gonna paint your walls white, fill you to the brim. 

And with a guttural groan, he did just that. He gave you rope after rope, everything he had to offer, fucking his cum deep within your cunt until you toppled forward, cuddling into him. 

Your breaths started to even out, heart rates slowing but beating out the same rhythm. “I love you, Meg.” He murmured softly against your forehead in between a dozen kisses while he reached back to grab your glasses and the remote, rewinding the movie to where you left off, not wanting you to miss a second of it. Even if you had seen it a million times before. 

Under the soft, warm blankets, you finished out the movie with his cock still buried in you while the snow drifted down outside the windows. The fire burned lower now, mugs of coco empty, and popcorn gone.

Katsuki might still hate winter, but he loves these snowy nights he gets to share with you. 

[bakingtherapy]

Robby's Baking Therapy #15 Nutmeg... Strawberry Cake

Hello, every birdie. Today we are making what is labeled in the cookbook as a “Strawberry Cake.” I am not going to spoil what was wrong with it until the end. This is not really a recipe that I would recommend you make. 

For the ingredients, I followed the recipe, to the T. Even though I knew that something was not right about it. The ingredients that are in this recipe are:

Sugar

Butter

Berries

Flour

Eggs

Baking soda 

Nutmeg

If you want to look at the recipe and the measurements they will be down in the description below. 

When I looked at the recipe for this cake, I was confused. Why nutmeg? Maybe to give it an added spice or something. I questioned it a little bit, and I definitely questioned the amount. The recipe called for 1 teaspoon of nutmeg. I don’t even put a whole teaspoon of nutmeg in my sugar cookies. So I was a little bit nervous. 

After I got all of the ingredients out, I preheated my oven to 350. And again the recipe called for a bundt pan, but I used 2 cake pans. I greased and lined them. 

I combined all of my ingredients and then poured them into the pans. I always like to follow a recipe going with the top ingredient, then adding the next. Until I know that I have all the ingredients. 

Honestly, I knew that this cake wasn’t really going to have a strong strawberry flavor because it didn’t have a strong strawberry smell. All I could smell was the nutmeg. 

I put them in the oven for about 30 minutes. And the only reason I say about is that every oven and kitchen temperatures are different. Just keep baking it until you have a clean toothpick when you stick it in the middle. Always start with the lowest amount of time, because you can always add time, you can never subtract it. 

While the cakes were out and cooling. I worked on my buttercream. And boy, is this something that I struggle with so much. Even just a simple American buttercream is hard for me to do. Am I throwing in the towel and giving up? NO!

I am going to be trying some other buttercreams. Personally, I don’t care that much about ABC (American Butter Cream). I am on the team ABC is SO sweet. When I put in 4 cups of powdered sugar, I am always thinking that it is way too sweet. So I am going to be experimenting with my frostings in the coming future. 

Once the cakes were cooled, and out of the freezer. It was time to frost this cake. It turned out looking really sad. I didn’t really know what happened with it. It turned out to be somewhat edible. It just wasn’t the strawberry cake that I wanted. Everyone said it tasted good, but it wasn’t a strawberry cake. It was a sad nutmeg cake, that was slightly off for some reason. 

I hope that you liked this recipe. If you want to check it out for yourself, the recipe and the measurements are down below. See you in the next recipe. Thank you. 

Show the original author some 💖💖💖 Robby's Cookbook Collection

Here is a printable version of this recipe: on the blog

Please help me get a phone: by supporting me on Kofi / Patreon

[ahsokathegray]

Pent Up in the Skywalker Penthouse || Part Two

Pairings: Rexsoka, Anidala

Prompt: Rexsoka Monthly Oct. ‘23 - Body Heat

Summary: The war is won and the holidays have arrived. Ahsoka's plans for the solstice have fallen through, but Anakin's made it his business to make sure she isn't spending them alone while house sitting.

Tags: 18+, language, explicit sexual content, accidental voyeurism(?), accidental drug use, angst

Word Count: 7,613

A/N: If you haven’t already, go give @rexsoka-monthly a follow and join us in supporting and creating prompt-based Rexsoka content! 🫶

read on ao3! / masterlist

Ahsoka didn’t recall much of what happened after that. In fact, most of Rex’s words had been swept away by the spice. 

She was almost certain that her response to so much honesty was to rip open several bags of snacks and demolish what she could before passing out cold — literally. 

Evidently, to be able to stomach a truth that she’d been racking her brain over for months, she had to fill it. 

Poetic, really. 

Her memory was foggy and her head felt like it was still plunged beneath the surface of the bath water. But the snack wrappers littering the floor told her she was connecting the right dots. She blinked lazily, reminding herself how to see properly after suffering a long night of dry eyes and unreliable vision. 

The Shilian film Anakin had put on had reached the end and the music from the title screen was playing faintly throughout the room. 

Twisting in the sheets— When had she gotten under the sheets? 

Twisting in the sheets, she found that Rex was no longer occupying the bed. Ahsoka found that the apartment was now significantly colder than it was when she had last been awake. Her teeth chattered together and drew the tie around her housecoat tighter, watching as her unsteady breaths appeared in front of her. 

Her bare feet met the cold floor and she hissed, any lingering remnants of her high now fully vanished — or gone up in smoke, rather. 

Huddling into herself, Ahsoka padded out of the bedroom and into the hall in search of Rex. The entire penthouse was encased in darkness and Ahsoka found her trembling hands feeling up the walls, having never needed to be acquainted with where the light switches were. 

Luck was out of her grasp and had been since Rex…

Oh. 

Her breaths ceased to appear in the air but her mouth stayed open as the horror settled in. The icy temperature of the apartment began to seep into her veins, creeping into her chest. 

Oh Anakin would have to more than make this up to her. She never would’ve used the master refresher had she known Rex would be accompanying her during the holiday. She never would’ve…

Rex had walked in her while— during— Oh, Rex!

And she hadn’t even had the decency to stop! Hadn’t even so much as apologized! Had made everything that much harder for him. A blush crept up the length of her lekku… Hard was an understatement if she recalled what had happened in the bath correctly, specifically how tight his pants had been. 

She had to apologize. She had to find Rex and make things right. 

Had he just up and left? An immense amount of guilt flooded her system. She couldn’t very well blame him if he had. 

On top of that, it was quite possibly the worst weather in history to have broken a jar of spice and have it travel through the ventilation system. But one glance out the frosted windows answered her question. Coruscant was buried under a thick blanket of fresh snow and it was still falling, heavily at that. Very few speeders dotted the air traffic lanes. 

Rex had to be here somewhere. 

Her heart had lodged itself in her throat, frantic to find him yet dreading it completely. Adrenaline pumped furiously through her bloodstream as she padded briskly into the opposite wing of the residence to check the sofas. 

Please don’t be gone. Please.

Something touched her shoulder and Ahsoka jumped, fighting the urge to clutch her chest and instead backing into the nearest wall. On instinct she reached for lightsabers, finding instead the large empty pockets of her robe. 

“Ahsoka,” a voice spoke from somewhere in the darkness. His voice was hoarse… husky. 

Force. 

Ahsoka swallowed and took a step closer. This was the laundry room if she wasn’t mistaken. 

“Did I wake you?” Rex asked, his dark silhouette appearing in the doorway. 

She shook her head before deciding he probably couldn’t see her very well. “No. I don’t think so,” she corrected herself. It was only now that she’d settled could she hear the low rumble of the dryer. 

Another piece of her memory snapped into place. Rex had gone to put their clothes in the wash while she was busy stuffing her face in an attempt to process his words through her high. It must’ve been before he returned that she’d fallen asleep. 

Rex leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms. “Well, I just put everything in to dry. Should only take a little while,” he explained. 

Ahsoka cleared her throat, speaking quietly and fighting her chattering teeth, “Thank you. W-Why didn’t you turn any lights on?”

He laughed, “Couldn’t find them. And at any rate, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

A heavy pause permeated the air. 

“H-Hold on. I might actually—” Ahsoka started, leaving her thought unfinished as she stepped past Rex and into the narrow room. She’d looked after the twins one night and, in an unfortunate dinner mishap, Leia had managed to get food all down Ahsoka’s dress. “You know, with the dryer going it’s actually kind of warm in here— Ha!” she said, having located the pull-switch through the Force. 

A single, vintage bulb lit the space between them and she looked up at Rex, finding that he didn’t share her same triumphant expression.

His eyes were red-rimmed and glassy. 

Large arms tightened across his chest and he looked away as she said his name. Ahsoka could see the way his jaw flexed in an effort to combat a fresh round of tears. 

While she’d been sleeping so soundly in the next room, Rex had been in here crying. 

“I…” she started, not knowing how to begin. A sigh fell shakily from her cracked lips. “I’m so sorry for earlier. I didn’t know you were going to be here. Anakin had me under the impression that it would just be me. Never in a million years would I have… done what I did if I knew. And then I just continued to make it worse with the spice and the… This is such a mess. I’m so sorry, Rex.”

The silence between them weighed heavily on her montrals. She leaned against the humming dryer to maintain warmth, composure, and control of herself — failing at all three. This was a disaster. 

He refused to look her in the eye and her heart was breaking all over again because of it. 

Things between them were already difficult and she’d made them insurmountably worse. At his silence, Ahsoka continued to speak. “I know we don’t talk anymore and— and I’m not sure why, but I would understand now, because of this, if—”

“You don’t know?” Rex asked abruptly, his eyes finding hers and taking them hostage. With the amount of crying he’d been doing, he still looked high. 

Months. It had been months. She’d craved the honest truth, craved the answer, craved to have him in her life again. Months spent longing for what she didn’t know was now moments away from spilling off of his tongue.

He uncrossed his arms. “Ahsoka after you came back, I knew it was all over for me — the war, the man I used to be, all of it. The war was being won all around us and when we got word back that the Chancellor had been arrested… it just solidified what I’d been battling within myself during the entirety of the siege. I chose myself over my duty as a soldier — what I wanted.”

How was she supposed to breathe when her heart was in her throat?

“Rex, I know. Many men chose not to continue service to the Republic and left to pursue a life of their own. I don’t blame you for that.”

“No. That’s not it. I— Maybe you don’t remember earlier. I could no longer be the soldier they expected me to be. No longer could I serve as a Captain, or Commander, at the standard we clones are upheld to. Ahsoka, you rejoined the Order. Skywalker would’ve made my reassignment to you permanent.”

Ahsoka’s brow markings furrowed. It still didn’t make sense. Rex began to pace in the small room, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t understand. Did you not want to stay on as my Commander?” she asked. 

He stopped in front of her and leaned his head back against the wall. “I did.” His throat bobbed, voice breaking. 

Rex swallowed and half scoffed, half laughed. “Kriff, it’s probably the spice talking,” he said more to himself than to her, knowing its effects had long worn off by now. “But my resignation was effective as soon as we did what we did that night after handing Maul over. I’d made my choice as soon as I stepped into your quarters. And after… I submitted the paperwork before I even went to bed, not knowing—”

“Not knowing that I’d be asked to rejoin so soon,” Ahsoka finished. 

It had been a blow to the gut for both of them. 

That night after their rendezvous in the Tribunal, Ahsoka had woken in the early hours of the morning to an urgent assignment to the planet Mustafar. The 332nd had performed so exemplary on Mandalore with the capture of Maul, that Windu had given them the time sensitive mission of arresting the Separatist leaders in league with the apprehended Sith Lord. They were all gathered in one place. It couldn’t afford to wait. Immediate action was imperative lest the Separatists discover their leader had been killed — and that his leader would soon follow. 

Anakin had made the arrest of the Chancellor, Obi-Wan had killed General Grievous, and she’d apprehended Maul. With her Masters’ positions on the Council and their presence required on Coruscant, of course she was the next choice for the mission. 

Ahsoka had arrived at the hangar expecting Rex, only to find his position had been vacated just hours prior, with Vaughn taking his place as Commander. 

She hadn’t felt something so devastating since leaving the Order. The irony of it was cruel — to rejoin with a hole in her heart the way she’d left with one. 

But she accepted Yoda’s earlier offer despite this, effectively dropping her status of citizen and advisor. She was knighted before dawn, unceremoniously, in a bustling hangar with men shouting and running to board the Venator. 

And no Rex. 

Her first mission as a General and it was without Rex. 

The mission had been successful but Ahsoka still felt like the galaxy’s scales hadn’t been tipped back into balance. Something was missing. He was missing. And he hadn’t even discussed the idea of leaving with her before he’d done it. 

They did what they did and he just left. 

Until tonight, she’d convinced herself that he’d achieved some sort of goal and no longer had any interest. It was easier to cope that way. 

The aftermath of winning a war was far busier than either of them had anticipated. There was no pocket of time to discuss it. There was no asking why. There was no pleading for answers or explanations. There were trials, Senate hearings, elections, and missions into (formerly) Separatist space.

She didn’t know where to find him anymore and he didn’t know where to find her. 

Ahsoka shivered and leaned further into the dryer, hoping by some miracle it could find a way to warm her cracked heart. 

It all had to pick up before it could slow down. Dinner with Anakin and his family was all she could manage during leave in the beginning. She’d finally understood her Master’s frustration on trying to nurture relationships while being constantly called away. It was easier said than done. 

Only with time did she find herself able to stay on Coruscant for longer periods. Having Anakin notice this and begin mentioning Rex had brought up a pain she thought she’d buried. 

“Everything and yet nothing changed,” he said after a while. “I tried to go back, to resume as Skywalker’s Captain or Commander, but he’d resigned as well — to see to his duty as a father and a husband. But even if I’d stayed and fought by your side, nothing could’ve changed. In the end, it didn’t matter that I left. You’re a Jedi again. In choosing myself, I chose you, Ahsoka. I thought since you weren’t— that by not being a Jedi anymore, we— But next I hear, you’re Knighted and I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.”

Ahsoka took immense interest in the floor, “The universe has a cruel sense of humor.”

Rex shook his head, “I’m sorry, Ahsoka. I’ve been sorry since it happened.”

Another silence slotted itself between them, only the rumble of the dryer creating a barrier for the tension. 

“Do you regret it?” 

Rex looked bewildered. “What? No. No. I’ll regret everything I’ve ever done before I regret that. I regret not trying harder to find you. I regret not comming you. I regret stepping down from my position. I regret not indulging Skywalker at dinners. I regret not saying more hours ago when I should have, while we were still high and I wouldn’t feel the full weight of this conversation. I regret not just getting in that karking bath with you and—”

Ahsoka separated herself from the dryer and closed the distance between them, kissing Rex hard, cutting him off and just barely grazing his teeth with her own. 

Her hands shot out and her fingers pressed desperately into the nape of his neck and he met her equally urgent mouth. 

Something between a sigh and a whimper escaped Rex and he pulled her further into him by the loops of her borrowed housecoat. Her frigidity was long forgotten as their body heat tangled and Rex backed her up against the dryer once more. 

His knee pressed between her legs, nudging the fluffy pink robe open at the bottom. Ahsoka gasped into his mouth and he swallowed the noise. His lips traveled lower, tongue slipping against the pulse point under her jaw. Rex pressed his knee against her core and sucked. Ahsoka clung to his robe, verging on words. 

I love you. 

The words were on her tongue but she bit them back, allowing a frustrated moan to echo around them instead. 

I love you. 

She conveyed it to him in the way her hands slipped inside his housecoat, running up his fevered chest and along his shoulders. She told him in the way she pushed the material off of him. She said it in the way her fingers desperately urged him to come back to her lips, moving her mouth against his in a chaotic excuse of synchronicity. 

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

She could see it in the way he helped her remove the tie keeping his robe up. She could hear it in the way he grabbed her face and showered her in kisses, worshiping her lips and neck and collar bones. She could feel it in the way he moved his knee against her. 

Rex ravenously kissed her and she gripped him tightly, giving a low whine as he lightly tugged at her bottom lip. His hands slid up her throat to cradle her jaw, worshiping the tender spot he’d created on her neck before drawing back, eyes a rich dark amber — waiting. Waiting for her to push him off and demand her half damp clothes. 

Their combined heavy breathing filled the air, challenging the speed of the dryer behind her. 

“‘Soka… Tell me to stop,” Rex pleaded, his voice raw. She could see the pain in his eyes. 

Shaking her head, Ahsoka tried tugging him closer by the forearms. He planted them firmly onto the dryer beside her, remaining stationary. Ahsoka didn’t dare look anywhere else, especially down. “Rex, the Jedi, they’re quite different than you and I last remember,” she breathed, repeating the first words she’d said to him when he’d arrived earlier that night. 

Rex’s eyes flashed, lightening in color as the meaning behind her words snapped into place. His forehead fell against hers and his brows knitted together, the revelation and relief flowing through him at once. 

With more urgency than before, Rex’s mouth connected with hers, hungry to make up for months of what they’d lost out on. His hands traveled to the once tightly secured tie of her robe and pulled it free from the loops on her waist, letting it fall onto the floor. Strong, hot palms settled on the skin of Ahsoka’s hips, causing her to jump at the contact. His fingers pressed into her fevered flesh, guiding her into a rocking movement against his thigh. 

He drank in her soft moans, letting his hands roam higher. His thumb grazed the underside of her left breast. She squeaked and Rex’s hold around her tightened. He lifted her and sat her atop of the dryer, the vibrations of the machine meeting her core and pulling a sharp gasp from her swollen lips. 

Rex slotted himself between her legs and looked up at her. It was Ahsoka’s turn to cradle his jaw. He nuzzled into the touch, peppering kisses to her inner wrist. “How many of them?” Rex asked her breathlessly, stars in his eyes. 

The question needn’t any context. She understood his meaning perfectly. How many Jedi were with their clones? How many had developed feelings just as they had?

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she sighed, pressing her core into the vibrating surface and feeling Rex rock himself against her calf, wetting her skin. 

“So much time wasted,” he murmured against her forearm, journeying up in search of her lips again. 

She smiled against them, “So much time to make up for, you mean.”

A low growl emanated from the back of his throat and he pressed a kiss between the valley of her breasts, uncoordinated in his moments but trailing ever downward. His hands took on a mind of their own, one massaging small circles into her hip and the other brushing over a hardened nipple. 

Ahsoka’s hands flew to his head when she realized what he was about to do, grasping at hairs that weren’t long enough to latch onto. Rex laughed against her thigh and the added vibrations caused that spot behind her navel to coil. He kissed her thighs, lovingly nipping at the sensitive skin as he moved her hands to his shoulders. 

Tracing his nose against the white markings that framed her opening, Rex inhaled before blowing hot air over her. She gasped his name and her nails bit into his skin. 

His eyelashes grazed the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh as he looked down, seeing just how wet she’d become. The shoulders under her hands relaxed as Rex groaned, met her gaze, and attached his mouth to her soaked center. 

Ahsoka yelped, one of her hands flying to take hold of the dryer itself. The feeling was unreal… it… “Ahhng,” was all she could manage. Every swipe of his tongue, every bump of his nose against her clit was a religion in and of itself. 

In a swift movement, Rex took hold of her ankles. One was guided over his shoulder for her leg to rest there, and the other he used to place her foot on the edge of the dryer. She was completely exposed to him. 

For a split second, he pulled away to guide her into a leaned back position. When he did, Ahsoka could see that his nose was glistening in a thin sheen of her excitement. His eyes were dark as he looked up at her, never ceasing the movements of his tongue. 

Her vision was beginning to blur. And she quite preferred it as a result of this rather than that of the spice. 

Every bit of this was better than the spice.

Ahsoka’s legs began to shake, her thighs involuntarily jerking to clamp shut. 

Strong hands held her in place, bruising fingertips spreading her wider so he could get a better taste. Ahsoka’s eyes had just fluttered shut when Rex kissed her center and then put his mouth over her clit — sucking hard. 

“Rex!” she squealed, her toes curling. 

Dangerous amber eyes met hers and he hummed his satisfaction against her engorged bundle of nerves. He took hold of her hip once more and squeezed, licking a hot stripe against her throbbing cunt in a moment of sweet relief before doubling down on her clit again. Her breaths grew scattered but she was determined to hold eye contact. 

But in a moment of nothing but daze and bliss, her eyes fell to the hollowing in and out of Rex’s cheeks, the movement of his jaw, and she shattered against his mouth. 

Lazily, Rex continued his affections as Ahsoka came down from her high, smiling and whispering things she couldn’t hear against her throbbing sex. 

Soft orange fingers found their way back into his hair as he pulled away. They shared shy laughs and their eyes met. 

The dryer beneath her came to a sudden halt and buzzed loudly, causing them both to startle. 

Rex rose to his feet, ignoring the machine’s signal of dry clothes, and picked Ahsoka up with ease, carrying her back to their bedroom (Yes, their bedroom. In his search for the laundry room, Rex had discovered that no other guest rooms had been quite as prepared. Anakin’s intent had become quite clear).

The temperature was drastically lower in the rest of the apartment and they both hoped that the bed still retained some of Ahsoka’s warmth from earlier — not that it would matter much soon. 

Hot kisses were planted along the smooth cords of muscle lining Rex’s throat as he carried her. She felt him kneel onto the mattress and draw the gauzy canopy closed haphazardly around them. He was reluctant to let her go — desperate to keep her close lest she slip from him so far again. Ahsoka could feel it in the pressure of his fingertips. 

Her own knees made contact with the bed, but she didn’t turn on her back. Instead, she kept her back pressed firmly into his, lolling her head to rest on his shoulder. Rex’s cock throbbed at the proximity of her heat, understanding immediately what she was asking. 

It had never occurred to him that this was an option. 

Kriff. 

Rex lifted Ahsoka’s hips in his lap and angled himself at her hot entrance. She had just successfully encased them inside the sheets when Rex sank into her aching cunt. 

A sharp gasp rattled out of her throat, making her arch her back. Strong, tanned arms wrapped themselves around her middle and pulled her flush against him. She relaxed into him, shifting to invite him even deeper inside. 

He moaned next to her montral, causing the electricity in her body to reach her toes and bringing on a fresh wave of arousal. 

Oh, how she’d missed his broken sounds — missed the effect she had on him as well as the one he had on her. 

Rex kissed and licked at the place where her jaw met her lekku. He remembered how to work her. The action made her squirm in pleasure, writhe in his lap and clench his thick cock with her walls. She could feel his thighs tremble beneath her because of it and Rex rewarded her with another strangled groan. 

His hot palms found her breasts, squeezing, cradling, pushing them together. He rolled a nipple between his fingers and let his other hand dive where her knees were spread. 

“Rex— please, I—” Ahsoka cried, lurching forward and clutching her abdomen. 

She leaned forward and he went with her. The rhythm of his hips stuttered before picking back up again. Harder. Faster. Shockwaves began to tickle at her spine. 

Again, she attempted words, “I’m not going to last if you keep— ah—”

Rex’s hips paused, their rhythm becoming slow and tortuous. “Tell me” he said breathlessly, his voice raw. The desire to kiss her, to see her face, had become too great. He knew she wanted the same thing he did. 

Ahsoka hissed, the drag of his cock making her thoughts fog up again. “I want to see you. I want—”

“To watch?” he finished, panting between peppered kisses. 

His only response was a desperate mewl and something that resembled a nod. 

They both cried out at the loss when Rex pulled away. Ahsoka fell gracelessly onto her back, bucking her hips in an attempt to satiate her needs until Rex was back in. He pressed a loving thumb to her entrance, coating it in her excitement and sliding up to rub cruelly slow circles around her clit. 

She choked back moans and offered up little cries as she pressed herself against him. 

“So beautiful,” Rex whispered, taking hold of himself and rubbing the head between her folds. Ahsoka could only watch for so long before the pleasure erupting within her became too much to bear. Her head flew back at the sensation and she wrapped a leg around him before he could do much more teasing. 

He drives into her at a pace that aches. The throb behind her navel starts to build again.  She throws her arms around him, tugging him closer to the mattress. They are a blur of kisses, hips, teeth — a tangle of skin, limbs, love. 

Ahsoka tenses. Rex’s muscles coil. Her toes curl. His breath hitches. 

“Come for me, ‘Soka,” he rasped. 

With a sharp cry, she wraps herself around Rex, thighs trembling and hips spasming. Ahsoka pulsed, shakes, clutches at him to make it last just a little while longer. Rex sheaths himself deeper than she thought he could, both of them coming utterly undone. 

His forehead pressed against hers. Their cheeks were flushed. Sweat trickled down his back. They were warm and sticky between the legs. 

All that existed in the galaxy was them — something neither one of them thought they’d experience again. Everything in the universe ceased to exist but this quiet moment, their staggered breathing, and the fall of snow outside the window. 

No, they would not go cold tonight. 

The Coruscant skyline was gone, blanketed in layer upon layer of thick snow. It was a brighter morning than it should’ve been due to the stark amount of white outside the window. Visibility was low and it didn’t look as if the air traffic were there at all. If anything made it look less like Coruscant, it was that. Traffic never stopped. 

It felt as if the universe had stood still — if only just for them, to make up for all the time they’d lost out on. 

Frost clung to the transparisteel and Ahsoka decided there’d be a slim to none chance that anyone would be willing to come solve their vent issue. 

She might be able to handle it with the Force, but that ran the risk of inhaling it yet again. 

Rex shifted behind her and blew hot air on her exposed shoulder, kissing the skin as she turned to face him. Warm hands slinked around her waist and dragged her back under the sheets. Soft lips kissed her on the chin and Rex adjusted the covers to encase them completely, tucking them under a lone montral. 

“Is it cold out there?” he murmured against her neck. 

Ahsoka hummed, “You can barely see out the window.”

A few more kisses were peppered along her lekku. He sighed, “We never got our clothes out of the dryer.”

Something warm spread from behind her navel as his breath ghosted over her sensitive flesh. 

“Our robes are on the floor last I remember,” Ahsoka said, pausing. “You are not going to take these sheets and leave me here to freeze.”

Her neck received a kiss. “What makes you think I’d do that? You’re coming with me,” he growled suddenly, nipping at her jaw and hoisting her up into his arms. 

She yelped, desperately helping him claw at the sheets and toss them over their naked bodies to retain warmth. 

Rex took off flying down the hall, just about slipping on his forgotten housecoat as he pummeled towards the laundry. Ahsoka squeaked the whole way, laughing into his chest and relishing in his strength and warmth. He held her tightly to him as he yanked open the dryer, quickly fishing out their items and deciding they had to brave the cold. 

“On three?”

“One.”

“Two.”

Ahsoka kicked the sheets away before Rex could say ‘three’ and threw her clothes on at record speed. 

“Hey!” Rex laughed, rushing alongside her to cover himself and regain the body heat they’d lost. 

Their clothes were wrinkled but neither one of them could be bothered to care. Ahsoka was gathering the sheets back up and wrapping them around herself, inviting Rex inside and looking up at him. 

“Beat you,” she said, taking him right back to  those many moons ago on Mandalore. 

“Some things never change.”

The reference wasn’t lost on her. She narrowed her eyes, appraising him, “Others do. Say for instance, us. Or, better yet, Naboo Senators hiding recreational spice in their bath cabinets.”

“Kriffing hells! I— I was so caught up in everything else that I didn’t make that connection!” Rex’s face was now tinged pink. 

“Caught up in me, you mean,” she smirked. 

Flashes of a very naked, very touching herself, Ahsoka were conjured up in his mind. Fuck. 

“How could I not be?” he asked, attempting to sound nonchalant. His voice betrayed him. 

“We have to replace it.”

“Fuck me.”

“I will later.”

Rex blushed furiously. “How do we go about this? Have you ever purchased drugs before?”

It was Ahsoka’s turn to blush, “Once.”

“Wh— Ahsoka—”

“I’ll tell you all about it later, but it’s not in the way you’re thinking.”

“I thought you were kriffing me later. In what way?”

“It’s a long story.”

“What way, Ahsoka?”

“It wasn't for me, it was for the Pykes.”

“The Pykes?”

“Yes, the Pykes. I’ll tell you later. Now, we need to find coats before we go out.”

“We’re really going out in that?”

“Yes and no.”

“Explain,” he said, following her towards Anakin and Padmé’s wing of the suite. 

“The snow won’t have gotten much into the Underworld,” Ahsoka answered simply. 

“We have to go down into the Uscru District?”

“Where else do you find spice? And yes, possibly lower. We need coats. Did you happen to see any?”

“You’re the one that rifles through drawers that don’t belong to you.”

She liked the way Rex was teasing her, but it takes a whole lot more to get all flustered than it does for him. “And what would I find in your drawers, Captain?” she asked sweetly, running a finger down the panel of his vest.

Rex swallowed. Visibly. But he came back quick, “Would you like to find out?”

Ahsoka eyed the massive bed in the room with them. “It can wait,” she replied sheepishly. 

Oh, he had her now. 

“I’ve done my waiting.” His eyes flicked to the bed and then back to her. He cocked an eyebrow. 

“No. As much as I love you, I will not be having sex with you in—”

Rex’s jaw fell slack. His shoulders dropped. Huge brown eyes gaped at her. “You love me?”

Apparently, Ahsoka hadn’t realized she’d said it. Her head poked from behind a closet door, somehow both pale and flushed. 

“You just said— You love me,” he repeated the words, as if doing so would make them feel less like a dream. 

A puffy woman's coat went limp in her hands. She fiddled nervously with her fingers.

He didn’t dare step closer and crowd her. “Do you mean that?”

“I’ve meant it since—”

“Don’t say since that night on the Tribunal.”

“I should’ve said it then. I wanted to. I almost did.”

Rex clenched his teeth and sighed. After all this time. Both of their timing was terrible. 

Ahsoka held her chin up high, “If you don’t want me to love you, then I have some bad news for you.”

“All I’ve wanted since that night was for you to love me back.”

Her heart rate had tripled. 

“Why do I have the sudden feeling that we won’t be visiting the Underworld until later?” she asked, setting the coat on the perfectly tucked duvet. 

“Because we won’t. Because I’m going to take you back to our bedroom and fuck you and show you just how much I fucking love you.”

“And?”

“And you’re going to tell me about the Pykes as I’m doing it.”

Her core clenched around nothing as she whimpered, running willingly into Rex’s arms. 

“It’s warmer down here,” Rex commented as they stepped out of the air taxi. 

They had indeed ventured further down into the planet past the Uscru District. Coruscant’s inhabitants that normally roamed the upper levels had all taken shelter further down where they’d be closer to the planet’s center. 

This worked in their favor. With more people milling about, everyone was out of their normal routine. It would be easier to slip in amongst them without the police droids batting an eye. They’d be more focused on helping direct people and manage chaos than they would be looking for shady deals happening in an alleyway. 

“Baby’s first drug deal,” Ahsoka said seductively as they meandered through the level. 

“And last,” Rex replied, squeezing the hand that was entwined with his. 

They stopped and grabbed a bite to eat and began to people-watch. It took a bit of time to find what they were looking for, but sure enough, their training had paid off yet again. Four separate people on four separate occasions (all shady in nature) were seen entering an alley near the restaurant and emerging a short while later with pockets larger than they’d been upon going in. 

Ahsoka glanced up at Rex to make sure they were on the same page. 

He gave her a sharp nod and left a few credit chits on the table, following her outside and into the alley. She wouldn’t allow him to hold her hand as they approached, but he took comfort in knowing that both of her lightsabers were on the inside pocket of her borrowed coat. Rex was nothing if not protective of her. 

Rounding the corner, they found an older Patrolian woman leaning against a wall, blue smoke glittering around her. 

“Haven’t seen you two here before,” she rasped, appraising them and looking unimpressed. “How’d he pull you, honey?”

“Oh, I— We—” Ahsoka stammered. 

The woman’s eyes narrowed, “Hey, you’re a clone. Yeah, I get some of you every now and then.” She turned back to Ahsoka, “I get it, sweetheart. Since the war ended — these smoke shows have been a hot commodity. What’ll it be for you kids?”

Ahsoka produced the shards of the spice container, “I’m not sure what was in here, but we’ll take whatever pink spice was in it.”

The Patrolian laughed, “Oh you two are dirty. Yeah, alright. One G-spot Glitterstim will run you fifty credits.”

Rex and Ahsoka both blanched, not daring to look at one another as the credits were transferred. The older woman laughed again and took a drag of her own spice of choice, wished them luck, and told them to come see her again. 

“G-spot Glitterstim,” Ahsoka repeated, still in shock as they walked away. 

“Explains a lot,” Rex said in response, the corners of his mouth turning upward. 

Ahsoka squeezed her eyes in embarrassment. “How was I supposed to know? There’s no label!”

Silence passed between them as they made their way back to the taxis. 

“I can’t help but wonder though…” she trailed, stealing a look at Rex to see if they were making the same conclusion. 

He pressed his tongue into the pocket of his cheek, “If it’s the reason the twins are here.”

She began to giggle hysterically, in shock more than anything. “Can you imagine Anakin and Padmé coming down here for this stuff?”

“Do you think they ever imagined us coming together to replace it?”

Her face was beginning to redden with laughter when she stopped suddenly, her feet halting in their tracks. 

“What?” he asked her. 

“The vents. We need someone to clear the vents.”

“We have to go back to Mrs. G-spot Glitterstim, don't we?” he sighed in defeat. 

Rex thought the woman was going to cough up a lung with how hard she laughed at them. Several more suggestive comments were made. 

Wow, you two really got into it. His little clone must’ve been up for hours. How are either of you walking? Bless you babies. Young love at its finest. How was his stamina before versus after the spice?

It felt decidedly wrong that the woman who dealt them the drug was now following them back to the Skywalker apartment. Even worse, she sat in between them on the taxi ride back up. But she owned a speciality vacuum (this thing happened very often and was a common issue that needed resolving) that wouldn’t spread the spice further throughout the penthouse. 

Of course it was just their luck that the spice was… spicy in nature. 

Within a matter of minutes of their arrival, the spice was gone and contained. 

“Shame that the vents were so dusty, it might’ve still been usable,” the woman — who they learned was named Mabel — sighed. “Anyway, you two lovers are set. Close the vents next time you decide to get freaky, alright?”

She placed the contaminated spice into her pack and held out her open palm for payment. 

They didn’t have enough. 

“Look, you two are sweet. I’ll tell you what, since you were freezing your bits off up here, I’ll take pity on you and knock off a percentage. Judging by the looks of your high-rise, I’m being too generous, but you’re good kids. Just keep getting your spice from me and we won’t have any issues. Agnes on level 3204 will pickpocket you and Mildred on level 3007 next to the cleaners will sell you out to the police quicker than you can turn the corner.”

Rex placed his remaining chits in her hand and Ahsoka added her only two pieces into the mix. They were still short three chits. 

Sighing again, Mabel cut them some slack, “Alright, here, let me leave with the bowl of candied bofa fruits over there and I’ll consider us even. They were my favorites as a lass.”

Ahsoka remembered Anakin’s warning about the bofa fruit, but figured it would be easier to explain that over the missing spice. He was already under the impression that she had a sweet tooth for them and if she and Rex had to go off on some risky adventure to obtain replacements, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. 

She could think of a few ways that they could make it into a memorable trip. 

“Cuties. Many thanks. You take care now. Pace yourselves. I don’t want to see you back needing more spice anytime soon,” Mabel said, walking out the door before pausing to admire a framed photograph of Anakin and Padmé. “Oh! The most adorable couple! Are you friends with them? Regulars of mine for a few years now — buy exactly what you two did today. And look at these precious youngsters! Twins! Well, I better be off now. Lovely to meet you.”

With that, the door slid shut and Mabel was gone. 

A heavy silence filled the air, both Rex and Ahsoka not daring to speak until they were sure Mrs. Mabel, dealer of G-spot Glitterstim, was well out of earshot. The heat kicked on just then and they burst into a fit of snickering. 

“I don’t even know how to process that information,” Ahsoka wheezed, tears forming in her eyes. 

Rex fought for breath, “I don’t ever want to picture any of that again. Hell. And she took all that candied bofa fruit? I was gonna get into those! This isn’t at all how I imagined my holiday panning out.”

“Oh, you mean to tell me you don’t normally fall into baths with women, inhale secondhand spice, casually purchase more, and find out more about your friends than you ever wanted to know?”

“No, not normally. No. Only on the rare occasion, I’d say,” Rex laughed out his response.

“Just like how, on rare occasions, you eat entire bowls of candied bofa fruits?” Ahsoka asked, raising a single brow marking. 

“Who told you?”

“You. Just now. Anakin has blamed me for that for years!”

Rex only laughed.

She rolled her eyes and did the same, “You have to replace them to make it up to me.”

“I’ll make it up to you, just as I’ll make up for all of our lost time for as long as you allow me to.”

“And if that takes forever?”

“Forever with you? I’m counting on it.”

It was three days later when the Skywalker’s returned home. True to their word, they were en route as soon as celebrations on Naboo had ended. They’d arrived just in time for the Winter Solstice. 

Dinner with all of Anakin’s favorite people went off without a hitch. Everyone showed. Snow had even covered Coruscant for the occasion. 

He wasn’t sure if he was more shocked that Obi-Wan and Cody could make it or if it was because Ahsoka and Rex were in the same room together. 

“Did you two stay warm in here?” Anakin asked, testing the waters. 

The waves between them had been crashing — violent in nature when he’d departed for Naboo. 

“Oh, yes. Quite cozy,” was Ahsoka’s response. 

“The vent system gets in all the nooks and crannies,” Rex added. 

Ahsoka choked briefly. Padmé asked if she was alright. Kenobi cocked an eyebrow. Anakin shrugged. 

Were the waves between them calm? Or was there some other sort of rift in the waters?

Her cough was remedied by a hefty sip of water and Rex placed a hand to her back that no one seemed to notice. Anakin tried not to notice. But the list of things Not To Notice only grew longer over the course of the meal. 

His old Padawan had taken a slice of roast nuna from Rex’s plate. 

The former Captain’s eyes lingered on Ahsoka, even when she was speaking to someone else. 

Rex sat restlessly when she left to use the refresher. 

When she returned, her hand appeared to occupy his thigh. She must’ve realized that display of affection could be seen, so she moved her hand to his knee instead. 

Ahsoka left first out of the two of them and Rex not long after. They claimed to park together but, through the screen of falling snow, Anakin swore he saw them catch the same taxi. 

It wasn’t until a week later that Anakin got the opportunity to speak with one of them alone. 

Padmé had been in need of a clone escort to attend an ongoing trial for one of the last Separatist leaders in league with Dooku. 

Anakin was confused when he opened the door for Rex, dressed in full Captain’s gear. 

“Rex?”

“Sir,” the man responded, his soldier’s voice having returned to him with full professionalism. 

“Have anything you want to tell me?”

“Ahsoka hasn’t told you? I’ve been reinstated as her Captain. Commander Vaughn had no issue vacating the position. I’m here to escort Senator Amidala to the Senate,” he stated simply. 

“I’m not talking about that.”

Rex wished he had the walls of his bucket to disguise the heat creeping into his face. That earlier professionalism was now gone. He was never good at lying. 

“We will replace your candied bofa fruits as soon as we return. Ahsoka didn’t have anything to do with their disappearance either time they went missing. I have quite the taste bud for them. The blame can be placed solely on me.”

Anakin’s brows twitched together. 

That was, evidently, not what he’d been talking about. 

“That’s not what I meant, Rex.”

The Captain was now fully red. “I did my best to clean it up, sir. The vents were shut off almost instantly and all the rooms were clear. I had wanted to empty the new jar of spice to be at the amount that was in the original one, but Ahsoka didn’t remember how much had been in there before she mistook it for bath crystals.”

It was Anakin’s turn to become red in the face — not out of anger, but sheer embarrassment that Rex and Ahsoka had discovered the pink spice and purchased more to replace it. 

What else had they found?

Anakin stammered, drawing his own conclusions as to how Rex and Ahsoka… No. No, he wasn’t going to think about it. Had he planned it? Sure. Had he set them up in the same bedroom? Of course. Did the knowledge that his match-making skills were still impeccable boost his ego? Obviously. 

But he refused to think about it. 

It worked. They were together. He and Padmé (apparently, he’d have to check) had more spice than they did when they’d left. And the bofa fruits were scheduled for replacement. 

Anakin called for Padmé, letting her know that Rex had arrived as her escort.

“Uh, well…” Anakin trailed. “I’m glad to know…”

Rex spoke at the same time, “Sorry about…”

“…as a Captain…”

“…where the bofa…”

Anakin swallowed and clapped the man’s back. “I’ll see you and Ahsoka both for dinner later, then — as a couple.”

Rex relaxed, smiling at the mention of her, “We’ll be here.”

Pent Up in the Skywalker Penthouse (Part One)

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Martyrs and Kings - Chapter 4

Tell Me Something I Don't Know

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged)

Pairing: Kix x archivist/historian OFC

Wordcount: 3.1k

A/N: The angst has landed. Also, over the course of this fic, Maree is going to get some details wrong. She's relying on incomplete data, but she does her best. This is for realism; after all, our understanding of history changes all the time as scholars explore new contexts, perspectives, artifacts, and information.

Warnings: angst; post-traumatic stress; description of a panic attack; brief mention of self-unaliving (no description); Maree being obtuse

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The next morning, Kix leaned against the wall of the library next to the staff entrance. He saw Maree approaching the building before she noticed him. She looked a little worse for the wear, her cheeks drained of color, and her eyes squinting against the harsh light of the sun. She was visibly surprised to see Kix waiting for her outside the door.

“Good morning,” she greeted him. “You didn’t have to wait outside for me; the library is open.”

He shrugged. “I figured I could avoid the front desk inquisition if I came in the staff entrance. Besides, it’s nice to breathe the fresh air.”

She mumbled something unintelligible.

“Gorgeous morning, isn’t it?” he asked affably. “So sunny. So… bright.”

She shot him a dirty look.

“You have absolutely no right to be this cheerful,” she said. “I saw how much you drank last night.”

“I have a fast metabolism,” he grinned.

“I used to have one of those. I could stay out all night partying and walk it off the next morning. Then I got old, and now I have to pay for my sins.”

“You’re not old,” he objected. “But I do know a few tricks to help, if you’d like.”

“Ooh, Kix has tricks,” she murmured. 

Her voice was low with a suggestive edge, accompanied by a sexy little smirk, and Kix felt his blood heat. He ignored it and handed her a small tablet, which she swallowed dry without hesitation.

“What is that, a Peezo?” she asked.

“No, and do you always just pop whatever pill a strange man gives you?” he asked severely.

“You’re not a strange man; you’re my nine o’clock appointment. If anything happens to me, TJ-60 will hunt you down, and Valsi will finish the job. Am I going to start hallucinating?”

“No. It’s not spice and it’s not a stim. It's just a supplement to help replenish the vital nutrients that got depleted when your body metabolized the alcohol.”

“That’s very wholesome,” she said. “Where did you learn that?”

“I used to be a medic,” he said.

“Did you?” she asked. “And when you were learning to be a medic, did they ever teach you about the dangers of overconsumption of alcohol?”

“I must have skipped that lesson,” he said. “Shall we?”

Kix followed Maree into the library, and the moment she passed through the doors, he watched with fascination as she transformed effortlessly into a model of professionalism. She gave no indication of a hangover, and while she was still friendly, there was no trace of the flirty banter he’d enjoyed outside. In a way, it reminded him of his brothers snapping to attention at the arrival of a superior officer, no matter how ribald the conversation had been seconds before. He followed her to her office, nodding at the colleagues who greeted her on the way. They passed Dr. Harik and he shot them a sour look. Kix just gave him a friendly wave. Once inside her office, she took his coat and hung it up next to hers and then went to make a pot of tea.

“Please take whatever seat you like,” she said. “We’ll get started as soon as I pull up the report.”

“It’s freezing in here,” he observed, reclaiming the armchair he’d chosen on his last visit. He sank into its luxurious softness even as he double-checked his sight lines to make sure he had a clear path to the door.

“You would not believe the amount of time the staff spends complaining about the temperature,” she sighed. “That’s why I keep all these throw blankets in here. Use as many as you’d like.”

She loaded a tray with the pot of tea, a jar of honey, and a plate of biscuits and set it between their armchairs. Kix picked up a biscuit and sniffed it tentatively. It smelled like sweet spices, and it was encrusted with sugar crystals. He took a bite. It was surprisingly delicious, and he crammed the rest of it into his mouth as Maree turned on the holoprojector in the middle of the room.

“As you can see, the report is quite long. I doubt we’ll be able to get through it entirely this morning, and unfortunately, my afternoon is booked with meetings.”

“I’ll be on Hosnian a few more days,” Kix said. “If we don’t get through it all this morning, could we schedule another appointment?”

“Of course,” she smiled. “Before we get started, I feel I should warn you that this report is going to be depressing.” 

“It was a war,” he said grimly. “I don’t expect it to be jolly.”

“War is never an easy topic,” she acknowledged, “but what happened to the clones is one of the most tragic events to unfold in recorded galactic history.”

Ice skittered down his spine. What the hell happened after I went into stasis?

“In what way?” he asked, keeping his voice level.

Maree took a deep breath.

“There has been a great deal of debate and discussion over the ethics of cloning since the fall of the Empire. In fact, the New Republic’s Coruscant Accords banned cloning and genetic engineering wholesale, although some have argued that their motivation for this was driven less by ethical considerations and more by the fear that another clone army could be created to challenge their governance.”

“What were the ethical arguments?” Kix asked.

He wondered darkly if any of the debates had included actual clones, or if they had been led entirely by sheltered, privileged rich people for whom the entire discussion was simply a rhetorical exercise.

“The Republic sent millions of clones to their deaths without ever giving them the opportunity to consent, much less dissent. Some historians contend that the reason the Republic never recorded the clones’ chosen names was to avoid confronting their humanity. If it had acknowledged them as individuals, it would have been far more difficult to justify throwing their lives away. But the Jedi share responsibility with the Republic in this war. It is true that the clone army was commissioned by a rogue individual, but the Jedi council’s decision to deploy the clones has led some historians to question the order’s ethical integrity. We have the luxury of hindsight to know that Sheev Palpatine had been manipulating both sides of the conflict from the beginning, but the Jedi cannot be absolved of responsibility. They knew what they were doing when they agreed to send an army of mind-controlled ten-year-olds into battle.”

Kix stiffened. “The clones may have been ten years old at the start of the war, but their accelerated aging meant they were fully adult by that point. I doubt they would appreciate being infantilized.”

“Of course,” Maree said. “I didn’t intend to imply that they were children. We know that biologically, they were fully developed. But so much of our mental development and maturation depends on our life experiences, and those were denied to the clones. They were bred for battle, trained from birth, and thrown into the fray before they ever had a chance to experience anything else.”

“I guarantee the clones gained more ‘life experience’ during the three years of the war than most civilians get in decades,” Kix growled.

Particularly civilians who weren’t even born until decades after the Clone Wars began, he thought, but did not say aloud.

“I don’t disagree,” Maree said, and he hated how calm her voice sounded. “But when they gained those experiences, they did not always adhere to the Kaminoans’ programming. We have records of some clones who deserted almost immediately after the first battle of Geonosis. There were also incidents of clones turning against the war and the Jedi—I believe the most famous case was at the battle of Christophsis, when a clone trooper collaborated with the Separatists because he felt that he and his brothers had been enslaved by the Jedi.”

Kix stood abruptly.

“The clones weren’t traitors!” he snapped.

“No, they were not,” Maree agreed. “They were overwhelmingly loyal. Those few instances I mentioned are notable for their rarity. As a whole, the clones were exemplary in their service, and they are widely considered to have been the greatest soldiers the galaxy has ever seen.”

Kix paced back and forth across the office. It was unfair of him, he knew, to expect Maree to understand his agitation; after all, the war and the clones were ancient history to everyone in the galaxy except him. This was a purely academic exercise for her, and he’d opted not to reveal how immediate it was for him. Maree watched him closely, waiting until he was ready to continue. At length, he came to a halt in front of her.

“You’ve told me what the general opinion of the clones is,” he said. “Now tell me what you think.”

“I think—” she paused. “I think the clones deserved better. They served the Republic with honor.”

“Even when they turned on the Jedi?” Kix asked, bitterness making his voice sharp.

“They had no choice!” Maree objected. “After the fall of the Empire, the New Republic declassified the records pertaining to the Clone Wars. We learned that the clones were controlled by inhibitor chips that were programmed to override their free will when Palpatine gave the order to kill the Jedi—Order 66. The clones were the tool the Emperor used to destroy the Jedi, but they were not responsible for their actions.”

Kix relaxed slowly and returned to his seat. At least she knows about the chips, he thought. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if she had believed the clones acted of their own free will. 

“So that was it for the clones?” he asked. “Their chips activated and wiped their personalities completely?”

“It’s not quite that simple,” she said. “The chips’ effectiveness began to wear off not long after Order 66.”

Kix darted a glance at her. “It did?”

“Yes. Some clones began to question their orders. Over the next year, more and more clones began to desert. Some of them blamed themselves for the Jedi’s deaths and—took their own lives.” Her voice trembled slightly, and he felt a brief, savage satisfaction that she was not as unaffected as she had seemed earlier. But that emotion was quickly overwhelmed by the pain of hearing how his brothers had suffered. Because of him. Because he had failed.

I can’t do this, Kix thought, dropping his head into his hands.

The silence stretched out.

“Perhaps we should take a break,” Maree suggested at last.

“Yeah. I need to get some air.”

Kix lurched to his feet and strode out of the room. He’d only traversed the winding passageways to Maree’s office once, but he backtracked unerringly to the staff entrance. He walked quickly, blindly. The walls of the corridor felt like they were pressing in on him, and he was nearly jogging by the time he reached the door. He burst through it into the bright sunshine, his gasping breaths puffing swirling clouds into the cold air. Instinctively, his medic’s brain cataloged his physical state with clinical efficiency: elevated heart rate, shortness of breath, trembling, nausea. Classic symptoms of a full-blown panic attack.

He walked and walked, forcing himself to breathe deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth until the jittery tension eased. The walkway was lined with trees that were just beginning to open their blossoms, and he leaned against one, staring up through the branches into the clear blue sky. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes. 

He focused on the sensation of the gentle breeze on his skin, chilling his face and hands. As he inhaled, he took in the unmistakable smell of the city. He could hear the cacophony of airspeeders whizzing by in the skylanes, the honking of impatient horns and the shouts of irate drivers. Slowly, his emotions began to settle, and when he had regained some sense of equilibrium, he made his way back to the library.

Maree was waiting for him outside the staff entrance. She held two bottles of water, and she offered Kix one as he approached. He nodded his thanks and downed half of the contents in a single swallow. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, until at length, Maree broke the silence.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize how personal this was for you.”

Kix tensed. “What do you mean?”

Had she guessed who he was? He had relied on his beard and long hair to disguise his clone identity, as well as the fact that fifty years had passed since clones were a common sight in the galaxy. But she was a Clone Wars scholar; she would have seen the holograms. His anxiety returned in full force.

“You mentioned earlier that you were a medic,” she said. “You used to be a soldier, didn’t you? A combat medic. I must have dredged up some very painful memories for you.”

Kix breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“I was a soldier,” he said carefully. “It’s complicated…”

He trailed off. Maree took his hand and gave it a gentle, sympathetic squeeze.

“I understand,” she said. “You don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t wish to. It’s not my place to pry into your personal life.”

“Thank you,” he said simply.

“Kix,” she began slowly, “would it be better for you if I just send you the report? I wonder if it might be easier to read it than to talk about it.”

He shook his head.

“No, I’d like you to be there so I can ask questions if I need to,” he said. “I’ll be all right. It was just a lot to take in.”

“Of course,” she said. “I will try to do better as we move forward. I’m more accustomed to debating the topic with other academics, and it was insensitive of me to editorialize.”

“You didn’t know my history.” His voice was flat, neutral.

“Well, I do now,” she said. “And I’ll keep it in mind going forward. We can take as much time as you need, and we can take as many breaks as you’d like.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I think I’m ready to get back to it, if you are.”

“All right,” she said, leading him back into the building.

“Just one thing,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Do you have any more of those spiced biscuits?”

The report began with the battle of Yerbana, the 501st’s next engagement after Anaxes. 

The combined forces of the 501st and the 212th secured a Republic victory. Immediately following the battle, the Jedi were contacted by a faction of Mandalorians who requested assistance in liberating their planet from the control of the Sith crime lord Maul. They were preparing to mobilize when they received word that Coruscant had been invaded by a massive Separatist force, and then-Chancellor Palpatine had been taken captive by Count Dooku.

Kix leaned forward as he read. “What happened?”

“The decision was made to divide the 501st into two forces,” Maree said. “The larger bulk of the legion returned to Coruscant under the command of Jedi General Anakin Skywalker. However, the smaller force, called the 332nd Division, was deployed to Mandalore under the command of CT-7567—Commander Rex—in the Venator- class Star Destroyer Tribunal.”

Rex made commander, Kix thought proudly.

“Both units were successful in their engagements,” she continued. “The 501st successfully extracted the chancellor and drove the Separatists from Coruscant space, and Count Dooku was killed in the battle. General Grievous withdrew to Separatist space. On Mandalore, the 332nd encountered heavy resistance. The siege was brutal, but the division fought with distinction and secured the planet. They captured Maul and were ordered to transport him to Coruscant and rendezvous with the rest of the 501st.”

She paused for a sip of water, and Kix waited impatiently for her to continue.

“What next?” he asked.

“That is the last record I was able to find of the 332nd,” she replied. “It’s likely they were reabsorbed into the 501st when they arrived on Coruscant, though I was unable to find any record of their arrival, either. Would you like me to do a little more digging?”

“Yes, please,” he said. “What happened to the 501st after that?”

“The legion’s next recorded mission is the assault on the Jedi temple at the end of the war,” she said.

Kix’s heart plummeted, and she must have noticed his reaction, because she continued in a softer tone.

“Following the end of the war, the 501st continued to serve the Empire. In fact, the legion was active through the entire imperial era, though the original clone troopers were eventually phased out in favor of recruited soldiers, as with the rest of the Imperial Army.”

“And when did that happen?” Kix asked.

“Officially, the Empire began to decommission the clones about a year after the fall of the Republic,” she said. “Though there is evidence to suggest that the process was already underway well before the Senate made it official. The 501st clones actually stayed in active service longer than any other unit, but eventually, they were replaced by stormtroopers.”

“I see,” Kix said. “When you say ‘decommissioned,’ what exactly does that mean? Were the clones killed?”

“No,” she said, and relief flooded through Kix. “They were retired in waves as the new recruits were brought in.”

She hesitated as though she had something else to add, but she apparently thought better of it. Just then, her comm chimed.

“Excuse me, Dr. Finnall,” said the robotic voice of the office droid. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I must remind you that you have another meeting scheduled in a few minutes.”

“Thank you, Teejay,” Maree said. “I’ll be done soon.”

She turned to Kix.

“The morning passed too quickly,” she said. “Would you like to schedule another time to meet?”

“Yes, please,” he said.

“My schedule is clear the day after tomorrow,” she said. “Does that work for you?”

“Yes,” he said. “Same time, same place?”

“Perfect,” she said. “Is there anything else you need before then?”

“Do you have a list of the clones who were assigned to the 332nd?”

“Yes, I’ll transfer it to your datapad,” she said, tapping a few buttons on the projector console.

His pad chimed with the incoming file notification. He thanked her and departed, waiting until he was out of the library before he opened the file. At the top of the list was a number that made his heart clench.

CT-5597.

Jesse.

---

Chapter 5

Tagging: @blueink-bluesoul @secondaryrealm @spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar

[eggtrolls]

omg what??? gnocchi and brussel sprouts sounds SO GOOD

I've been holding onto this ask until I got my laptop and could post the entire recipe from the NYT. This is about the closest thing I have to comfort food and I highly recommend it.

Some notes:

If you don't have a fan, your kitchen is gonna get smokey as hell. the suffering WILL be worth it but you should know if you have asthma/lung issues or a very sensitive smoke detector

KEEP THE HEAT UP. You'll see annoying ass people in the comments of the recipe like waaaah my brussel sprouts didn't cook, yeah probably because you were a wuss about temperature, ya fool.

I think the red-pepper flakes aren't enough and either use more, or sub for something spicier. Aleppo pepper is also really good here.

Related, I add more honey and let it go with the browned butter a bit longer. Mike's Hot Honey is great here, again if you like spice

I've tried omitting the lemon peel because if you hit the pith or chop the zest too finely, it adds some very unpleasant bitterness

Be sure to put a lid/cover on the gnocchi when they're cooking, the texture isn't right otherwise.

You can cut down on the butter, i.e. 4 tbsp, but the olive oil amount is p much essential.

The parmesan isn't a make or break thing for me but I'm not a big fan of grated cheese to begin with.

You can eat this at any temperature above lukewarm. Make it for lunch, leave it in the skillet to soak in the flavours, and pick at it throughout the day. Zero regrets.

If you ARE going to reheat it, do it in the skillet, not the microwave for smell purposes and for maximum crispiness.