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#thank you all for being here during this phase of my life
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See, I don't think that the Pevensie kids were uncanny and dangerous upon returning to England so much as just like. Cool weirdos.
Lucy talks to animals sometimes. She doesn't expect responses or anything; it has the same energy as a person talking to their dog, except it's the squirrel she spotted on the quad or the racoon in the garbage. But she's super friendly in general so after the initial "what the heck" everyone shrugs it off because like, yeah, of course she does. She also went with me to a scary doctor's appointment having known me for like five minutes and gave me an incredible pep talk. She's cool like that.
Peter joins the fencing club and day one it's like he's never held a foil in his life and day two he loses to a kid half his size but then after like a month he just absolutely annihilates the instructor. But he's super humble about it and afterwards he helps everyone else out without being condescending at all. And while it's a little weird that he's just Suddenly an expert, people are like, "he's a fast learner, that's cool." He's really industrious in class too, just Peter being Peter. He probably practiced a whole bunch after hours.
Edmund gets extremely weird food cravings sometimes, like "wow, I could really go for chicken liver with raisins right about now" or "you guys know what's great? Gooseberry trifles." And his friends say, "I've never heard of that before but it sounds weird." So Edmund learns to cook and starts making all these vaguely antiquated fancy dishes with weird berries and organ meats and things and shares them around during study breaks and everyone's like "Yo! Pevensie brought food. Cool, thanks Pevensie." And he shares it with everyone, even the kids nobody likes, and it kinda brings people together.
Susan, who was always the Mom Friend, seems to have gotten a power-up because now she Everyone's mom and weirdly people actually listen to her? But she only uses those powers for good. Girl in her dorm not eating enough? Susan's here with snacks and look at that now she's eating. Those guys arguing look like they're about to throw down? Susan says "knock it off" and glares and they do. And her friends are like, "how do you do it???" and she says "You just have to act like you expect to be obeyed." It's very cool, though it can be a bit Much sometimes.
And they're all into mythology now? Like ancient Rome and King Arthur and stuff? That's kinda weird, but not off-putting; lots of kids have mythology phases. And Peter named the tree outside his dorm, but everyone kinda laughs and says "yeah okay." Edmund is adamantly anti-bullying now, it's nice. Susan and Lucy wear a lot of lion-themed jewelry and people definitely Notice, but that just means that they start getting more of it for Christmas/birthdays.
And of course whenever two or more of them are together it's like they've got a conspiracy going on. They're always fervently whispering back and forth, giggling an the million inside jokes they've got, giving each other Looks. And onlookers are mostly just like, "Man, it's cool that those Pevensie kids are all so tight; I wish I was that close with my siblings."
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coco-loco-nut · 6 days
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Book Club - Part 6
pairing: Lance Stroll x Reader, Grid x Reader
summary: you and lance have a talent for traumating the grid *insert emotional damage meme here*
requests open masterlist
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It was safe to say that that you and Lance were still very much in your honeymoon phase when you got to testing. Both of you very tan from your weeks spent on the beach.
“Y/n! You surprised the world when you announced your marriage and name change, Anything you want to say about it?” One of your favorite interviewers asks you as you walk hand in hand to the paddock with Lance.
“Sure, yeah. Lance and I have been together for a long time, so getting married was just the natural next step. It was a small wedding with close friends and family. Regarding my new name, alittle over a year ago, Kimi offered to mentor me and we forged a very close bond. He is basically my father and his kids are my siblings, so with the blessing of the family I wanted to honor the relationship the best way I knew how. Racing under the Räikkönen name is such a huge honor and I can’t thank my dad and family enough for the honor,” you beam, more than happy to talk about your family.
“How did Kimi react when you told him you were taking his name both legally and when racing,” she asks, your joy infectious.
“He was so happy, I told him at the wedding, yeah. We are such a tight family, I can’t thank them enough for bringing me into their family and allowing me to take their last name. And Lance has been wonderful about it, he actually suggested hyphenating the names,” you tell her. Usually you are pretty tight lipped, but you with happily talk with her.
“Alright, onto what actually matters. How are you feeling going into testing with Red Bull?” she asks and you take a step back into your normal interview style.
“Good. I certainly miss Checo here, but the car feels good. We will see how testing goes and work from there,” Lance gives you a look that says you will be late and the journalist notices.
“Thanks for chatting, and congratulations,” she says and you nod in thanks before walking away.
“You look very hot today, Mrs Räikkönen-Stroll,” Lance says kissing the side of your head.
“Maybe so, but nothing compares to you post race,” your cheeks flame a little. Lance pulls you into a small alley between motorhomes. You are pressed against the wall as Lance kisses you, hands tangled in each other’s hair.
“OH MY GOD!” you hear Daniel shriek.
“MY EYES!” Valtteri screams. Lance quickly pulls away from you as the four of you look at each like deer in the headlights. Daniel and Valtteri quickly walk away, leaving you and Lance giggling like school kids.
The club atmosphere was off when you walked in, taking a seat beside Logan. Valtteri can’t look you in the eyes while Daniel isn’t sure whether his is proud or scarred for life.
“Fernando, I was not aware of your taste in books,” Nico says, a little flushed thinking about what they had to read.
“Yeah, a smut book? We do have innocent eyes here,” Kevin looks at you and Logan.
“Innocent?” Logan asks, a breathy laugh behind it.
“The beach scene?” Lewis suggests you all start on.
“The writing was phenomenal, the author really captured the emotions and sensations. It read so raw, so lifelike. It was one of the few times that art imitated life. She captured every intimate thought and feeling that a woman gets when she is having sex. I remember during the honeymoon when Lance and I did something similar on the private beach and wow, the author really nailed it,” you say, not quite realizing what you had just revealed to the group.
“Damn, Y/n, I didn’t realize you and Lance were freaks like that. Respect,” Daniel says, never being one to shy away from sex. Your face twists in mortification at what you unintentionally revealed. The guys look at eachother mortified as well.
You were an adult, they knew that, but in their subconscious mind you haven’t done anything more than kiss a boy. That’s how you end up following them as they storm across the paddock.
“Logan! Help me stop them,” you look at him with panic in your eyes as the group nears the Aston Martin garage.
“Hell no, this is so funny,” he says and you huff. You see the guys cornering Lance.
“YOU RUINED OUR DAUGHTER?!” Fernando yells at his teammate. You just want to sink into a corner and die, similar to how Lance appears.
“Our precious, innocent, child. What’s next? Logan has slept with a girl?” Valtteri says.
“HEY!” Logan yells in offense. The guys’ faces drain of more color.
“You too? This isn’t ok,” Kevin says and you spot Max and Lando trying not to laugh, the two of them having seen the commotion and wanted to check it out.
“I think you guys are forgetting that the three of us are consenting adults, we aren’t kids anymore,” you say softly, Logan and Lance standing by you, the latter still scared.
“Tell that to Kimi,” Nico chuckles and you groan at the mention of your dad.
“Alright, stop harassing my teammate, we have meetings,” Max breaks everyone up, leading you away.
“Thanks, Maxie,” you let out a breath of relief.
“Do I want to know?” he laughs.
“No, I don’t think so,” you return his laugh. You just hope that your book club meeting will be smoother tomorrow morning.
The next morning, you walk into the room happy and perky as usual.
“You okay, Fernando?” Logan asks when he notices Fernando on his third cup of coffee and the tiredness in his eyes.
“The hotel has thin walls. My hotel room shares a wall with Lance’s,” Fernando says, giving you a look that makes you blush in embarrassment, wishing the earth would open up and eat you whole.
“It is natural. They are young and in love, maybe we will have a baby Stroll soon,” Lewis says and your eyes light up.
“We will!” you say, quickly pulling out your phone. The older drivers hearts sink, all slightly panicking. “Oh my god, I’m not pregnant guys, we are just getting a puppy,” you laugh at their faces.
“I would like to make a motion to kick Y/n out of the book club due to the amount of emotional distress she has given the members this weekend,” Valtteri says, and your jaw drop.
“Alright alright, but you don’t understand the almost of trauma I went through having rooms that neighbored all of you during my first year here,” you point your finger at all of them.
“Motion denied,” Daniel sighs, knowing he was probably one of the main culprits.
“So, this dog?” Nico says, changing the subject.
instagram
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y/username EVERYONE MEET MY BABY!
since I’m too young to have a baby (according to the club) here is my baby holding our baby, Milo Stroll ❤️🐾🐶
logansargeant look at how big his paws are! he’s gonna be a big boy 😍
y/username his favorite uncle 🥰
danielricciardo @y/username I take offense to that
user1 y/n really had me in the first half
nicohulkenberg she had us too the first time she brought up Milo in conversation
lancestroll what a hot mama 😮‍💨
y/username nothing compared to the absolute DILF holding my sweet puppy in the picture
georgerussel MY EYES! MY INNOCENT EYES
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bigfatbimbo · 5 days
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Saw somebody mentioning Vox meeting his assistant Dom in hell and I’m just imagining him doing some PR event, flashing that million dollar smile and shmoozing when he looks into the crowd and freezes.
It’s not uncommon for people not to recognize those who they knew in life because of how crazy the changes can be (he has a tv head for hell’s sake) but he recognizes that posture and that confident, no-nonsense look. It’s kind of like looking at a fun house mirror version of someone he used to know.
At this point, he’s been dead for a while and enough time has passed to establish himself (maybe the vees are already a thing or maybe he’s on the rise) so he’s already put his past behind him in exchange for the new and trendy. But now he’s having a flashback to firm hands, a stern voice, and late nights in his office. He blue screens a bit and has to laugh it off in front of the interviewers.
After: It makes sense that you’d be in hell, maybe you’ve been here a while without him knowing. He remembers how good you were at your job. In life you were resourceful and ruthless, taking pride in doing the impossible.
If you were working for someone else it could cause serious trouble for his company. You could also be a major asset if hired but…
Hell is a lot more lax than 1950s America but he’s built a very specific image for himself and power is EVERYTHING down here. He thought he had rebuilt himself and put it all behind him but this could risk everything.
He’d be careful this time, keep you at a distance. He could have you as a skilled worker AND keep his pride intact. It’s a big company, you won’t even have to be in the same room. And he’s so much stronger than he used to be. He can keep his image, it won’t happen again and he totally isn’t thinking about it.
Maybe the assistant joins, maybe she doesn’t… or maybe she makes him beg
-Friday
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Friday anon you have a way with words oh my god because I love this idea so much. Lowkey you really sold this, you’d be a good writer ☝️🤨
But the way this would throw him through a crazy ass loop. Because he’s probably built himself up in his head, and being an overlord with a, quite literally, inhuman amount of power, he definitely has a new standard for himself.
Because now it’s more than just gender roles and fragile masculinity, it’s an even more fragile god complex. So to think he’s grown out of whatever submissive, borderline weak phase he was in during life isn’t exactly out of the question.
Part of him didn’t want to risk it, but you working for another overlord could cause problems. With his new empire on the rise, he could use an efficient, overachiever type of worker. However, the one thing that would change was the dynamic.
Simply put, there wouldn’t be one. Although he could use your help for his business, an arms length distance would be more than appropriate. After all, being seen as weak in hell could have a more dire effect.
Good thing that wouldn’t be a problem; a strong man in life makes a stronger one in death, after all. So he approaches you after the PR event, trying to act as casual as possible, treating as a ‘Y/n, how longs it been!? Decades?” kind of conversation. Acting as if your relationship was never as intimate as it really was.
Thankfully, you knew to go along with his casual tone, just like he trusted you would. However, you went along with it a little too well. His ‘arms length’ approach was working extraordinarily well, however thanks you to you. His plan was to ignore you in hallways, maybe a small wave at best, and only engage when he specifically had too.
But even then, in closed off hallways in the off chance of seeing each other, his small nod would be greeted with absolute silence. Not even a look in his direction. This has happened a few times, no look, no wave, not even a shoulder bump. Scarily formal.
Were you mad? No, you wouldn’t have wasted time being petty. But if nothing you’ve done has been petty, that means you really just didn’t care. You got your work done, at an incredible pace, as per usual, exceeding all other workers. Your name was known throughout the office and the more business deals you closed for Voxtech, throughout the small business clicks of hell.
But you stayed loyal, not to Vox, but to Voxtech. Did that mean you did care? No, Vox supposed, it meant that just as in life, you liked to finish jobs you started, or at the very least not abruptly switch bases. So does that mean you and Vox’s incredibly hot work affair meant nothing to you?
…Because it didn’t to him either. But there were days he’d catch a glimpse of you in the offices working, and he can’t help but let his mind wonder to those late nights. He’d always put up a fight, but you and your stern tone and firm hands elegantly broke him down, each and every time.
The shame he’d felt at being overpowered and conquered by his female assistant, but his hunger for more lingered on his mind just like your perfume lingered through the rooms you exited.
It’d been years, but seeing as it was the hottest sex in his life and death, he’d remembered the little details; the smell of your hair, your hands, the dominance in your voice, your knowing look, your lips, fuck your hands… and now it’s late and most of everybody else is gone. And Vox makes his way over to your office.
Your door is open, but he still knocks his knuckles against the wood, lingering in the door frame, “Knock, knock.”
You recognize the voice, raise an eyebrow, and to Vox’s dismay, barely glance up your paperwork. Setting your mug on your desk, you adjust yourself on the chair, telling him to “Come in.”
“Y/n,” Vox brushes off a speck of lint off his suit jacket and grins, “Thought I’d check on your work. If i’m correct, you have important paperwork to turn in?”
He hoped he was. In all honesty, he didn’t pay much attention to the employees specific jobs unless it purposely inconvenienced or benefited him. Otherwise, he didn’t check what various paperwork was delivered or checked by who.
You smile, “Just finishing up, easy stuff. It’ll be a breeze for you, just a few signatures.”
Setting your papers down, you finally look at him, “Will that be all, sir?”
Vox’s smile drops. No, it shouldn’t be. It simply didn’t feel right for it to be. But your look wasn’t questioning, instead almost amused, as if you were expecting this, and looking forward to his leaving.
Without anything else to do, Vox simply stalled. Did you think to do this? What about this other thing? Well this is nearly impossible so surely you hadn’t done this! But, some things never change. And you had in fact done everything. Not only that, but your smile grew with every task you’ve already accomplished.
Finally Vox snapped. Just as he’s done before, blabbering aimlessly about your overachieving, meaninglessly raising his voice is his facade display of dominance.
Then you stood up, and considered his outburst. “You know, i’ve been getting other offers. Companies who ‘care’ more. Pay more,” he goes silent, “You want me to stay?”
He nods, going to say something else before you cut him off.
“Anything else you want?” you drawl, backing him into the door.
“Hold on—“
“Beg.” And he does.
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ch3rriewine · 7 months
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Photo Booth Kissin' {P.P.}
summary: Peter's an awkward loverboy, but he's your awkard loverboy.
warnings: none i think just fluff :3, TASM!Peter Parker x reader hehe, no use of y/n, reader is kinda like super girly w the bows and sparkles idk
a/n: I HAVENT WRITTEN IN MONTHS SORRY here tho!
Peter’s life was boring—peaceful, but boring. Don’t get him wrong; being Spiderman is cool and all, but Peter Parker’s life could use some work. The most exciting thing that has happened to him recently was the time he got two yolks in one egg. Riveting stuff, right?
During another one of his literature classes that he doesn’t know why he took, he spots you. With a bow in your hair and a knit sweater falling over your figure, your head propped on your manicured hand while scribbling notes with the other. You sit in front of him and if Peter squints, he can see the small doodles littering the pages. Before he knows it, the professor announces that the lecture is done for the day. Peter panics; he wants to talk to you before you disappear and turn out to be a dream, but what would he even say? Doesn’t matter anymore since he chases after you to the door.
“Hey,” he says, looking a tad flushed after tripping over someone's water bottle.
“Oh, hi” you respond, your eyes a little widened at the sudden interaction.
“I, uh, I’m Peter” he say, sticks out his hand for you to shake. You take it and tell him your name. He repeats it in his head about a hundred times.
“I just, uhm, wanted to ask about…” he trails off, trying to remember if there were any assignments given. “The essay he said we had to do, yeah. When is it due again?” he hopes to any higher being that there was an essay due soon.
“Ah, yeah, it’s due next Monday” you reply, giving him a tight-lipped smile, ready to go back to your dorm.
“Cool, uhm, thanks! See you around, hopefully” with that, he bolts, leaving you confused and flushed. Hopefully
The cute boy in your class wants to see you around.
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯
Two days later, Peter sees you again. It’s in the same class, and you’re as pretty as ever. He psyches himself up to sit next to you.
You look up from your laptop when he asks you if he can sit next to you. You nod, of course, and smile. He looks nervous, with fingers tapping on the table and cheeks a little red. It’s cute.
“Have you started on that essay?” you ask, trying to start conversation since it looks like he won’t.
“Huh? What essay? We have an essay?” he turns to face you, eyes wide.
“Yeah, the one you asked me about?” you laugh a little.
“Oh, no, I didn’t” his shoulders slump back down, and you smile at him.
“I didn’t either; I had other work to finish” he stares at you a little; it’s flattering, really. How shy he is around you. He barely knows you, but he’s convinced himself that you’re the greatest thing ever. He also may have looked up your instagram and fallen even harder as he looked at all your posts. Peter now knows what you ate at Thanksgiving 3 years ago.
“Same, I’m in STEM so you could imagine” he says, resting his head onto the table. Sleep deprivation a thing he is well acquainted with, unfortunately.
“STEM, wow, you must be smart then. Why’re you taking a classic lit class then?” Sure, you might’ve slipped in a compliment; it's not a crime to flirt a little. It takes Peter a few seconds to respond as he processes what you said, you think he’s smart.
“Uh, I was going through a phase with classic lit at the time, and I’ve been lazy to drop it. And, uh, I’m not that smart—pretty average actually. Like the most moderate person ever” He’s rambling and kind of lying. He’s doing really well in his other classes.
“Yeah? I think you’re pretty smart if you’re in STEM. Not everyday a guy is both pretty and smart.” His cheeks turn even redder, if possible, and he makes a sort of out of breath sound. “If you need any help with this class, I’d be happy to give you my notes on the book”
Jesus, you’re gonna kill the poor boy.
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯
From then on, you sit beside him and throw in some flirty comments while he struggles to reciprocate. It feels too good to be true, how you seem interested in him and how you eagerly talk to him after lectures, even giving hm your number to talk about “class”. He’s waiting for the day you ghost him.
“Hey, would you maybe want to, like, hang out? Like on a date or something? Or just as friends! Actually, yeah, just hang out as friends; forget I said date sorry,“ he flounders, waiting for the rejection. Oh God, he’s just messed up the whole friendship and you’re gonna think that he’s weird and a creep and-
“I’d love to go on a date, Peter,” you smile “I was waiting for you to ask.”
“Oh, great, is Saturday at 3 okay? I’ll meet you outside your building and we could walk to that arcade?” He asks, eyes hopeful.
“Saturday at 3 is great. I love arcades, but you have to help me with the claw machines” For someone so smart and handsome, he doesn’t let himself think people like him.
“See you Saturday, Peter” you tiptoe to kiss his cheek, leaving sticky residue from your sparkly gloss and walk to your next class. He stands in place, a little starstruck and a lot flustered. He leaves the lipgloss there.
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯
Saturday finally comes, and now it’s your turn to be nervous. You’ve switched outfits countless times, your hair is out of place, and your makeup doesn’t seem to flatter you. You’ve settled on a pretty blue dress with tights to protect you from the small chill. Two little bows clipped into your hair and knit cardigan falling over your shoulders—makeup finally looking presentable enough with maybe a little too much glitter on your eyes, but whatever. Your phone chimes as you’re applying pink sparkly gloss, and your heart skips a beat. He’s here.
You throw your phone and lip gloss in your purse and bolt out the door. You spot him outside your building, as promised. He looks wonderful. Brown sweater and worn-in denim jeans—you can’t believe he’s so shy around you when he looks like that. He finally spots you, and wow, he thinks.
“Hey," he scolds himself for being so casual when he should be whisking you away to Italy, or something. He could’ve at least gotten you flowers.
“Hi, you look great,” you say in front of him, and seeing you up close is making him fall even harder, if possible.
“You look, wow, you’re just, wow” he can’t even believe you’re into him.
“Cmon, I wanna win some plushies,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. He grips your hand harder and laces your fingers.
The walk is calm and the air is starting to get cool. You talk about class and a show you started. Peter listens intently, making mental notes about what you like and don’t like. Your hands stay intwined, and his thumb traces patterns on the back of your hand. He’s gotten more comfortable and less panicky in your presence, so you get to see his personality shine through. He’s incredibly funny. You can’t stop laughing on your way there, and he can’t stop thinking of more things to make you laugh.
The arcade is dark, with flashing lights from every game. Peter goes to buy some tokens, refusing your offer to pay half. Grabbing Peter’s hand and making a beeline for the claw machines, everyone knows they’re rigged, but you don’t care. You eagerly take the tokens and attempt to win the Kuromi plushie. After the 5th? 6th attempt? When the claw has dropped the plushie, you give up.
“Why do they do this to people! It’s false hope!” you whine to Peter as he laughs at your pout.
“Lemme try,” he nudges you over and puts in a token.
You watch with eyebrows furrowed as he wins it on his first attempt.
“What the hell, Peter?” you crouch to pull the plushie from the machine.
“What? Do you not like it?” He faces you, examining the stuffed, is she a rabbit? What animal even is Kuromi?
“I love her; just, how did you win it?” You look up at him incredulously. He must have some weird power that makes him win every claw machine.
“Oh, I don’t know; just position it right?” He laughs, his eyes crinkling in the process. You want to smooth them out with your fingers.
“Thank you!” you’re genuinely really excited over a cheap stuffed toy, not because you really wanted it, but because Peter won it for you. You wrap your arms around his neck in thanks. Peter freezes. He fees like a teenager at how he’s reacting to a hug of all things. He snaps back and hugs you back. You pull away to kiss his cheek. This is the second time you’ve kissed his cheek, and he doesn’t know how he’ll ever get used to it.
“Lets go play games, pretty boy,” pulling away and leaving Peter to gather his brain and follow along.
You watch as he plays Pac-Man; its silly, but you love his face when he’s focused. Brows furrowed and lips in a thin line. He really is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. And he’s infatuated with you! Of all people! You swear half the girls in the class have a crush on him, but he gets nervous around you. You play some air-hockey, which you won (he let you win), and he won you some more plushies and some candy at the infamous claw machines.
When the games get old, the two of you leave the building. The sun is setting at this point, and you’re dreading leaving him.
“Oh, look! There’s a photo booth!” you point, excitedly tugging on his arm. “We should take some pictures.” you drag him into the booth, both of your thighs squished together and his legs at an awkward angle. He feeds the machine a few bucks, and the screen starts to count down.
You put on a sickly sweet smile, scrunching your eyes while Peter smiles big with pearly white teeth on display. The second photo you lean into Peter and he wraps his arm around you, pulling your body close to his. The third photo, you go for it. You grab his face and kiss him. His hands stay in the air as the glitter on your lips transfers to his. You taste like vanilla. You pull away, a little anxious that he didn’t want it. Those thoughts get pushed away when he grabs the sides of your face and kisses you until you can’t think. His hands are warm and big covering your cheeks as his lips move against yours. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck once more and deepen the kiss. Your lips move together in tandem as he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs, the movement comforting.
The fourth photo is blurry, and you walk out with all your lipgloss on Peter’s lips.
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yellowjackets96 · 2 months
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the way you do the things you do / angus tully x reader — part one
summary / chaos is only natural when barton's resident misfit strikes up a bond with the middle child of the school's most despised instructor.
warnings / none
word count / 1,300+
hii! this one goes out to the very wise anon who suggested a plot revolving around angus and mr. hunham's kid, which, i must say, is an utterly brilliant concept. however, it turned out to be a lot longer than just a mere one-shot like my first one had been, so it'll probably end up being two or three parts. i hope that's okay, lovely anon. thank you for sharing your brilliance with me!
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Moreso than anything else, the relationship between the two of you started as an agreement. Well, an unspoken one, but an agreement nonetheless. Somebody had to look out for the two of you, on equal footing as outliers, as social rejects, as the odd men out. No one could be better for that role than you yourselves. 
To your utter dismay, ever since your parents made the decision to ship you off to Barton Academy in order to get you “the best education available” for high school (which was made possible by your father’s half-off tuition staff discount), you found yourself under a level of scrutiny that you never once faced at your old public junior high. It was not your intention to be perceived as the offspring of the most hated man there, either, but word travels quicker than a deer crossing the road at Barton. A concept introduced to the dean on a Sunday morning ends up widely-understood knowledge by a Monday evening. You’d already been written off as the ‘spawn of Satan’ before you even started your first class. Tough fuckin’ luck.
On the other hand, Angus’s isolation was entirely self-imposed. Following several years of what his mother had promised would be a “short-lived maintenance phase,” he became fed up with the entire process — the constant shifting and forced socialization and paperwork and meetings with headmasters. Lather, rinse, repeat, over and over until he felt utterly insane. He grew to resist society’s forced conditioning of him, lashing out the only way he knew how, through acts of adolescent rebellion. Due to how much you contrast from your stickler father, you eventually saw eye to eye with Angus on this. Once you had finally worn him down to the point of dragging a tragic backstory out of him, you understood why, because, of course no teenager could possibly be interested in the art of befriending their peers and engrossing themselves in a community at their third consecutive school. 
But it didn’t start off too swimmingly.
He entered your life on the strangest day of the week, during the least-interesting possible time of year — a Thursday in late February. You learned of his arrival through the grapevine, mere hours before you first saw him. Perched at a seat towards the very corner of the dining hall, you had become increasingly intrigued by the nearby nonstop chatter from a group populated by Georgie Jackson, Philip McNamara, Billy Wolfe, and Teddy Kountze, a rare sight in the seven o’clock breakfast setting, which was typically chock full of half-dead, completely exhausted teenagers.
“You wanna bet it’s gonna be another freak?” Teddy had grumbled, shaking his head dismissively at something optimistic Georgie must have said. “They’re half the school, at this point.”
He not-so-transparently nodded towards you, earning him in-sync laughs from the more agreeable Philip and Billy, and a halfhearted head shake from Georgie. “Christ, dude. And you wonder why we’re the only kids who tolerate you.”
Teddy threw his hands up defensively. “Hey, I’m just sayin’! We could benefit from someone actually cool and fun.”
“God, could you imagine how cool a girl would be?” Billy daydreamed, practically drooling.
The shaggy-haired blonde smirked. “You’re telling me. That’s all I wanted since I first enrolled here. Would be nice if old man Woodrup would do what the student body actually wants, for once.”
“Instead,” Philip piped up, wearing a dejected pouty frown. “I’m hearing this guy got kicked outta three different schools.”
Your curiosity piqued, you finally jumped in, against your better judgment. “What could possibly get a teenage boy tossed from not one, not two, but three schools? That sounds utterly ridiculous.”
The energy sufficiently changed as Teddy shot you a poisonous glare, you watched the trio of his small-time henchmen sink into their seats, seemingly anxious at how angry you were about to make him. His scrunched-up face twisted into a confident smirk, like he was one-thousand percent confident he could ensure you would never speak to him again. “What’s it to you, Walleye Jr.? You think I’d lie about some shit like that? Would you tell your daddy if I did?”
A scoff escaping your throat, you leaned back into your seat, slightly dejected. “Well, no, but-”
“That’s what I thought,” Teddy said, his lackeys chuckling in unison, practically on cue. “And you wonder why you don’t have any friends, loser.”
Just like that, enforced unnecessary social hierarchy had left you right back where you were before, with more questions than you could ever get proper answers for.
Once lunch period rolled around, you figured you may as well not try your luck again. 
Wrapping a gentle fist against the surface of your father’s door, you barely had to stand by for more than a few moments before he greeted you, the smile that he saved for you and the rest of your family plastered across his cheeks as he slung an arm across your shoulder, pulling you into a casual hug. Due to the academy’s policy of teacher’s children not being allowed to take their parent’s classes to avoid favoritism, you no longer spent time with him every day as you typically did with your mother back home. The reunion was definitely something you had been yearning for since you last saw him, even though it must have been no less than a week ago last Sunday. For the first time in far too long, something at Barton brought joy back to you. 
“How have you been, sweetheart?” your father asked, his reading glasses bouncing slightly on the bridge of his nose as he sat back down at his desk. He pointed to the chair on the other end of it, offering it to you. You gladly accepted, tugging the seat out and sliding into it.
You shrugged at the question, trying not to pay Kountze and his gang of blockheads too much mind. “Fine. Haven’t really done anything too notable or special.”
“Well, hey,” he offered, sliding a sheet labeled roll call across the desk to you. “Maybe this’ll brighten your spirits, despite how much the prospect of it annoys me.”
As soon as he finishes speaking, you instantly know what he was referring to, your eyes catching on the highlighted name sandwiched between Neil Sweeney and Todd Wedderling, bearing an emboldened word next to it — Angus Tully (NEW). And then, like it were on cue, the door behind the two of you swung open, revealing the sight of an instantly-enrapturing bearer of deeply brown eyes.
“Ah, Mr. Tully,” your father remarked, rising from the desk to greet him. “What a coincidence. I was just introducing them to you.”
Angus snorted. “All good things, I hope.”
“You’ve yet to prove us otherwise,” the older man quipped, before quickly turning toward you. “This is my middle child, the one Dr. Woodrup told you about. They’re a sophomore like you, so even though you won’t be in my class together, I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
Picking up on the hint, you offer the other teenager a hand, which he casually shakes. “Pleasure to meet you, Angus.”
The brunette offered a crooked half-smile, enough to draw one out of you, too. “Nice to meet you as well.” Everything about him seemed natural — the way he didn’t force his grin, the warmth of his palm, the distinct waviness of his mud-shaded curls. This school left you perpetually surrounded by well-off jackasses, standing where they were currently placed via generational wealth, rather than strength and perseverance, working off of their own merits as your father had. Not to say that Tully was dissimilar in that manner, but he just felt so distinctly different, like he was not even trying to cultivate a phony persona in the effort of impressing others. If only everyone were like him. Maybe Barton would be bearable after all.
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silassinclair · 23 days
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Yandere Ghost x Reader
CW// NSFW (MINORS DNI WITH PART OF THIS POST), Dub-Con, Obsessive Behavior, Masturbation, Stalking, Mentions of Murder, Religion, Somnophilia
Introduction here for more context
Masterlist
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When you spoke to Dante for the first time he felt more alive than when he was living.
You could see him. For the first time in centuries someone could see him. He could finally interact with somebody.
“Y-You can see me?”
He could never let you go now. No… this must be fate. God brought you to him! The Lord denied him access to the heavens and sent you instead!
Well, now you have a ghost following you around your own home 24/7. Tell him to leave you alone and he’ll just whine and beg for you to let him be in the same vicinity as you.
“Dante please leave me alone. I’m trying to write.”
“Amore mio, my love, please let me stay. I promise I won’t disturb you. Just let me be in your presence.”
The perks of being a ghost means Dante can choose whether to phase through objects or touch them.
Meaning he can touch you.
You’re so warm. It’s been so long since he’s felt such warmth. You’re the sun in his new life. Yes, he sees his death as life now thanks to you.
“Dante your hands are freezing!”
“I’m sorry dearest but I can’t control it. I’m a ghost after all.”
“Could you maybe not touch me then while I’m trying to work then?”
“:,(“
He’s madly in love with you, obsessed with you, and would die again for you. He prays that you feel the same way for him. But you’re just so dense towards his advancements!
“I would die a thousand deaths for you amore.”
“Please don’t do that, dying once should be enough for you.”
He cannot blame you though, no no you’re a doll! Absolutely adorable. Nothing is ever his amore’s fault.
Dante blames himself. When he was alive he could have any woman he wanted. But that was when he could show his gorgeous face. Now, he has a Venetian mask permanently attached to his face because it was what he last wore when he died during the party. If only he could take it off and show you how flawless he is.
“Dante, why do you wear that mask?”
“It was what I wore when I died, along with what I am wearing now. I… cannot take any of it off.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know mi amor but I wish I could show you my face.”
“Are you handsome?”
“Oh I’m absolutely ravishing. You’d fall in love with me immediately.”
Physical affection is his love language and not being able to kiss you is as painful as dying to him.
Your lips are so soft and it breaks his heart being unable to feel them on his.
So instead he’ll trace the lips of his porcelain mask along your neck while you sleep. He’ll touch your body while you’re vulnerable and asleep.
“I wish I could feel you… I want all of you.”
You notice some of your things start to go missing. Your bat necklace, blood red lingerie, and even a pair of your panties. It was weird. It wasn’t like you traveled and lost your things, you were always home after all.
The only room you cannot access is the attic. Dante says that it’s his private area so you respect his privacy. This was his home originally after all.
But you have no clue that he has put together a shrine dedicated to you in the attic. All of your missing things are in their respective spots in the shrine built in your name.
“If I pray hard enough will you give yourself to me as I have given myself to you?”
He’s a religious man. He believes in God and was raised Catholic. Dante prays every night, begging the lord for you to love him back.
Dante can’t stand it when you leave the manor!
He makes up many excuses for you to stay. He needs you! You’re his life! Yes you work from home and are home 90% of the time but he can’t stand seeing you go even for a second!
“Amore mio please don’t go! You have everything you need here. You still have milk in the refrigerator.”
“But I’m running out of eggs..”
“That is no problem my dear. There are many recipes you can make without eggs. I have my Mother’s cookbook somewhere. How about we try and make something together?”
“Oh that sounds cool.”
Adores your aloof personality. You don’t mind it when he cuddles you at all! Plus your smiles are rare so it makes him all the more merrier when he sees you smile. He thinks of your smile like a shooting star. Rare and more beautiful than any other star in the sky.
But he does wonder where your attitude came from. You don’t like to talk about your life before you came to the manor. The ghost wanted to know if there were any previous suitors. He has tried to pry once but you became angry. He never pried again.
“What was your life like before you came here? Any… special someones?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it Dante..”
“So was there someone?”
“Just be quiet about it already! Stop being so damn nosy and mind your own business!”
Cried for the rest of the day after that. He hates seeing you anything other than your neutral or happy self.
His green eyes glisten with tears when you apologize to him. They peer at you from the dark holes of his mask.
“Sorry I snapped at you… Who I was with in my past is a sensitive subject and I don’t like talking about him.”
“Was he a bad man? Did he hurt you amore?”
“Badly…”
He wants to kill him. As soon as he heard you say that one word he had the bloodthirsty urge to kill. It’s a sin but… but whatever. It’s for you.
Anything for you.
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NSFW ONWARD, MINORS DO NOT TRESSPASS
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Can’t resist you any longer. But… He doesn’t want to scare you off.
Dante wants to fuck you so badly. He’d treat you so so right! He already kisses the ground you walk on.
But he’s afraid of rejection. If you leave then it’s over. Once you’re off The Verona Manor property he cannot chase after you.
Dante may be a depraved animal for you but he’s still a gentleman. He wants you to fall in love with him as all couples in love do.
But you’re taking too long. Would you be mad if he just so happened to slip into you in your sleep? Your s/c thighs are so tempting in those lewd little shorts that hide little to nothing.
“J-Just the tip… Just a little bit.”
Slides your shorts down slowly. He watches your expression carefully, green eyes gaze piercingly at your resting face. If you just so much as whimper he’ll freeze and continue once you’re relaxed again.
Once your shorts are down to your knees he practically drools at the sight of your lace panties.
“Amore mio, did you wear these just for me? You knew I’d do this huh? Such a vixen you are.”
Massages your clothed clit with his leather bound gloved fingertips. Rubs soothing circles into you that make you squirm where you lay helplessly.
Stares at your dripping cunny like a desperate, thirsty animal who has found an oasis in a desert. He wants to lick up your slick so badly. But that damned mask is in his way.
His fingers will have to do.
Your pussy flutters around his fingers as he gently eases your hole. He doesn’t want you waking up with his dick in you after all. He needs you to get used to the feeling. You haven’t had sex in so long, you may was well be a virgin!
Dante’s dick leaks pre at the thought of taking your virginity. He knows you aren’t, you have had past partners. But he wants to imagine.
Just for tonight.
He tugs his pants down, his erect cock slaps against his tummy. The tip is red and angry, begging to be put into your sweet little cunt.
“A-Ah~ Mmggph… W-Wish you were awake s-so I could hear your pretty little moans~ I know they would sound so pretty from your lips m-mi amor-“
Whispers dirty little things into the night as he fucks your tight little hole slowly and gently.
Even when asleep you’re dripping wet for him. Your unconscious arousal turns Dante on like a light switch. But he has to maintain control.
Just the tip after all.
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ksnfangz · 21 days
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EPISODE ONE — FATE | PROLOGUE
New year, Same Crush, Same friends, Same Grades, and what’s this? A new handsome face!
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Y/n L/n was well known for her bright and bubbly personality, the cheerful girl always smiling and jumping around throughout the school day despite her low scores, and the mean comments made by her classmates about her loudness or existence within their school.
She is also known for her very obvious crush on the school's golden boy Yang Jungwon. The girl does little to nothing to hide the fact that she likes said boy. Even mustering up the courage to confess during their freshman year.
" Jungwonie ~ I like you." you smiled voice pitched a bit higher than usual, eyes shimmering under the bright sunlight. A simple " I am not interested." is all you received in response as the boy walked away leaving you to sweep by yourself.
However, the rejection didn't at all phase Y/n. You were a determined woman and you wouldn't let Jungwon's rejection stop you from crushing– it had become a part of your daily life at this point.
So here you are a year later and still as in love as you were a year prior. Only now you and Jungwon were part of the same friend group. Thanks to your best friend Sunghoon who had become good friends with Jungwon over the Summer. And the final cherry on top was that Jungwon sat at the desk to your right so you could stare at him freely without being called out by their teacher or straining your neck... again.
" Y/nnie~ Guess what! your best friend is going to be one of the top idols in Korea soon." Sunghoon brags sitting himself in the seat to your left. The male had been your best friend since kindergarten so now you were stuck dealing with his randomness forever.
" Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it." you reply eyes never leaving the boy sitting to your right. Smiling as you watch him write down notes from his textbook. No wonder he's at the top of the class, he never stops studying.
" Hey you may doubt me now but I know about 10 companies that would beg to have a face like mine under their label." Sunghoon is about to continue his rant when he feels a tap on his shoulder.
Kim Sunoo.
Kim Sunoo was pretty cute for a guy, very smart, sometimes mean and a bit scary but that just made Sunghoon even more interested. How could someone with the face of a baby be so tough and outspoken?
" Sunghoon hyung you're in my seat!" the boy claims foxlike eyes staring into Sunghoon's widening round ones.
" Oh yes! sorry." The park boy apologizes before moving to the desk behind Sunoo. " Thank you!" the boy said sending Sunghoon one of his usual bright smiles as he sat down in his newly acquired seat. There were no assigned seats but Sunoo knew he wanted to sit beside you this year to make sure he could help you if necessary and because you were a pleasure to be around.
" Yah Kim Sunoo your hair! it looks great, I am jealous." Y/n whines playful pout resting upon her lips as she admires the boy's dark red hair. " Wonyoung dyed hers blonde! I’ve heard that's Jungwon a type." Sunoo whispers. Y/n sighed she had been wanting to dye her hair for ages but her mother would kill her if she ever put color anywhere near her hair. People like Sunoo and Wonyoung were very lucky. Y/n watches as said girl talks to Jungwon with her doll-like smile and flowing blonde locks.
" Do you think I would look good blonde?" The girl asks looking back at Sunghoon. "Of course not!" earning an eye roll from y/n and a smack on the arm from Sunoo that leaves him softly rubbing at the area. “ow.”
" You'd look beautiful with any hair color y/n don't let this fool give you any advice. He once got bleach and dye mixed up and almost went bald!" Sunoo laughs.
" I'm starting to think all the bleach went to his brain." Sunoo adds grabbing his notebook from his book bag.
" Hey! My scores are pretty good in my opinion." Sunghoon argues. " Doing good on the exam is one thing but remembering the information is another Hoon." Sunoo replies.
“ yeah well, I don’t see you offering tutoring sunshine.”
“ as if I’d waste my time tutoring you.”
" Will you two quit flirting in front of me please it's disgusting." Y/n sighs turning her attention back to the cat-eyed boy in front of her. Completely missing the way both of her friend's cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
" Yeah well, why don't you wipe the drool off of your lip and pay attention for once?"
" Yang Jungwon is far more entertaining than whatever Mr.Lee is teaching." Y/n responds her smile growing as she rests her chin in her hands. Of course, you should be paying attention to the lesson since your English grade was a bit low for your parents liking but you’d rather spend your time studying jungwons face than studying the English language.
" Y/n L/n."
The girl snaps out of her trance eyes widening. All eyes shifted towards her. "Please come write the sentence that Wonyoung Just read!" Mr.Les says gesturing towards the freshly wiped chalkboard. Slowly standing from her seat y/n timidly makes her way to the board.
I lost everything, I became a monster that can't die, but now I know what I have to do, Follow the blood token...
The girl freezes what was the last word again she thinks to herself trying to recite the poem in her head again,
how do you even spell that word is it an F or Ph....
English is stupid.
"Fate," says an unfamiliar voice. The chalk is removed from her hands as the unfamiliar male finishes the sentence. Y/n looks up at the boy silently thanking him with her eyes. The boy smiles before turning to face the class.
" he's handsome" "Is he the new transfer from Japan?" " how's he so tall?" I heard he's good at basketball... even better than Lee Heeseung " "No one is better than Lee Heeseung"
" Everyone let's quiet down and give our new student a chance to introduce himself. Y/n you may return to your seat." Mr.Lee says. the girl quickly made her way back to her desk dusting the chalk off of her hands.
" Hello everyone my name is Nishimura Riki, you can all call me Ni-ki, I'm from Japan, and I like sports." The male— Ni-ki informs, the class once again breaking out into small conversations as the male walks to the only empty seat which happens to be right behind y/n.
The boy softly tapping the girl's shoulder to get her attention. "Fate," the boy says once again, showing the word engraved cover of his journal. " Guess I got lucky." he smiles earning a small chuckle from the girl. Completely unaware of the pair of eyes that were lingering on the two.
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A/N ; short first chapter i’ll try to make the next ones longer! I just wanted to get the introduction out of the way. Please let me know if you see and spelling errors, or the name soojin anywhere this was originally an x OC! || next update may take a while i just go a surgery done and the medicine makes me very sleepy
masterlist . next
Taglist Status : open
©KSNFANGZ. please do not plagiarise, repost, copy or translate any of my works without permission!
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cellgatinbo · 5 months
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thought this was sweet and didn’t see anyone post it here (that i’ve seen?) so here is the letter bagi wrote to pac :D (screenshots and tls via bagienglish)
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From: Bagi To: Pac Hi, man! I'm sending you this Christmas letter to thank you for your kindness to me during all my days here on the Quesadilla Island! In the first few days, I was very lost and didn't know what to do or how to do things here! Your welcome gift really helped and was a kind gesture that I will never forget! I hope one day I can contribute as much as you helped me. Furthermore, I wish you all the best in this new phase of your life! I hope your relationship is great and the wedding happens soon :D Please, invite me! That said, merry christmas to you, your family and your fiancé :D (I saw several photos of you around the island and I thought it was beautiful) Merry Christmas and a great New Year <3
also included is a letter from Empanada:
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Hello tio Pac, it's me, Em hehe :D I hope this christmas letter finds you well. We haven't had much time to talk yet, but I hope this changes in the future!! I wanted to thank you for being so kind to me, also being the first to give me chocolate :D Also thank you for always letting my Mamae get stuff from you :,) We appreciate you. Te ama, obrigada -Em
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vitaminseetarot · 5 months
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PAC Pick a Ride: Your Next Big Adventure 🌌🌠🌃
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Thank you for voting in my latest poll! I'm surprised and glad to see that Next Big Adventure won by a landslide! Seeing as we have the New Moon in Sagittarius on the 12th, it makes sense that we are collectively interested in seeing what the next chapter has in store. Please note that some of these other topics mentioned in my polls may appear in future pick a card readings, so stay tuned.
So without further ado, let's get into our piles! Pretend as though you are a Knight from your favorite tarot deck about to embark on your next journey. Please choose your mode of transportation:
1 - Plane 2 - Ship 3 - Motorbike 4 - Train
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Pile 1 - Plane
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Cards: Re-Evaluate, Pencil Sketch, The Pilgrim, Ceres - Nurture, Patience, 26. Protection - Finding What's Important; I Magician, 10 of Pentacles, 4 of Pentacles, XIX The Sun Channeled Locations: Canada, Singapore, Morocco, Ukraine, Australia, Philippines, UK, New Zealand, NYC, South Korea
Hi pile 1, you've chosen to travel by air, bypassing all the long troublesome routes. After all, the sky's the limit! Isn't it nice to measure your distance by how the crow flies sometimes? You're ready to catapult yourself into the next big adventure; I can tell there's a lot of excitement to see what's ahead here. You'd rather get to the next phase of your life instantly yet with ease. This is likely the pile with big career goals, especially if moving or actual traveling will be in the big picture. Maybe you're dreaming of traveling by plane as part of your future dream job? You don't just want to get there, as great as that is--it has to be done with intention.
You're in the process of drawing out what your next life would look like. The future seems full of creative possibilities, but with Pencil Sketch next to Re-evaluate, you're being asked to pay attention to the details. How do you want things to go one month from now, and one year from now? As great as it would be to have an entire decade mapped out, it's unrealistic, but it doesn't mean you can't draft some concepts. You should have something in mind, though, instead of setting out with a knapsack and praying for the best. If your next career or long term project could be anything you wanted, are you going to hop into something for 10 years that doesn't end up panning out in your favor, or would you rather delicately test something for a year before diving in? Moving forward can be exciting, but if you're going by plane, you will need some coordinates.
I think your reading is super straightforward, pile 1. You've got a lucky edge going for you with the tarot cards here. Whatever kind of career goal you have in mind, you may have a chance to "make it big" at some point. That won't come without a lot of foresight and careful investment, however. Don't try to rush into any big decisions right off the bat. I occasionally see the Magician card as the one signifying "read between the lines". If any contracts get involved, be very careful and read thoroughly. Don't be afraid to ask questions or seek clarification. The ones giving you the contact would rather see you jump in it blind, but you've got the crafty Magician energy to help you out during this retrograde period.
As eager as you are to begin your next journey, you're being asked to consider what you want to grow over the long term. This reading wants to shift the focus away from the end goal, even if there's a message here about acting with intention. Setting intention doesn't mean straying away from the present moment to only consider what happens in the end. Part of paying attention to detail means being aware and present in what's happening around you. The present moment is a crucial aspect of your growth period, and it wants you to gently guard after and care for your goal as though it were a plant. You know the fruit of the plant will be ready to eat when it's there and fully ripened, but in the meantime you can enjoy its flowers and fresh budding leaves.
Enjoy the gentle growth process, because once you do start to take off, you may be shocked by how high you'll find yourself in mere seconds. The initial lift of the plane as it begins to run with the sky can give you a wonky feeling like your whole world is shifting and moving with you. Your sense of time can change, requiring adjustment. If you're unprepared, the change could feel overwhelming. Make sure that by the time you're ready for that big takeoff in your work or projects, you will have built up a solid foundation to ground you once you're ready to come back down to earth. That's how you'll build lasting success in your life's next adventure. Stay optimistic, because that positive shift could come sooner than you think!
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Pile 2 - Ship
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Cards: Limitless, Calla, The Alchemist, 10. Capricorn - Achieve, Express Love, 11. Invention - Burning with Passion; X Wheel of Fortune, 4 of Wands, VII Chariot, 10 of Swords Channeled Locations: India, Greece, Ethiopia, Thailand, Spain, Iceland, Turkey, Croatia, South Africa
The seas are calling you, pile 2, calmly asking you to take only what's truly needed with you. The water's may be choppy, but out in the expansive blue seas, you can feel connected to the coasts of the entire world. With a firm grasp of the ship's wheel, you designate yourself captain as you adjust your sails and set your sights for the hidden treasure that lies ahead--or perhaps beneath your anchor. You're entering your next big adventure lit up with grand ideas for what to do all laid out on your map. Over the vast horizon, anything could happen, and you could find yourself shaking hands with anybody new. This pile may be seeking proposals or offers of some kind, ones that will let you dream bigger than you have before. This pile likely has a good idea of where to go next, or at least some interesting things written down.
These cards ask you to make peace with some aspect of your past. It could be that whatever you had planned before didn't entirely work out in your favor. As much as the online community talks about how rejection is divine protection, sometimes having plans fall apart is not going to feel good, even when you're just glad it's over with. The worst thing can be the feeling of not knowing what to expect after a fall. But your next chapter is showing a lot of promise in things to come, so don't let your past be the omen of your future. The tides are turning right now, and if you can focus on what you'd like to accomplish next, you'll be able to shift those tides in your favor. The first step is to see that you've survived the bad times, and that in itself makes you a victor. With that, you can move ahead with more confidence than before.
That's the thing about Capricorn energy: it thrives in conditions that others would consider too harsh or demanding. It's the drive to take the roughest materials and make diamonds from them. Once you can decide to make peace with what you've gone through, you can take the nuggets of wisdom you've garnered to make a beautiful new path for yourself. You dissolve the worst of your experiences and bring them together to make it better, as the Alchemist card suggests. The difficult times and failed attempts were not for waste; you've gained a lot of valuable growth that will provide a smoother current toward success in your next endeavor. This could be the pile that wants to start a business. Please know that simply starting a business, or even taking the first steps to plan one, takes a lot of guts already. If you've managed to go that far, congratulations! It takes a lot of hard work for a new business to be survive the long haul. So celebrate your milestones, no matter how small they seem.
Part of what makes this next chapter so fortuitous for you is how the energy is transiting through. You could be hit with a wave of inspiration from out of nowhere. If you've been stuck in one place without any wind to carry you through the fog, be prepared for that big splash! All hiccups set aside, you're still brimming with a lot of zeal for your next idea. You may even receive a cascade of insight, so be sure to write these things down as they come. You never know if something silly and small could end up helping you out later on. Your next big adventure is going to put the spark back in you, with a feeling of having a second chance at life, as Calla lilies represent rebirth. Don't be afraid to get excited over what's to come, pile 2. Your faith that things will work out for the better is contagious, as is your gratitude for the accomplishments you've made so far.
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Pile 3 - Motorbike
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Cards: Breathe, Snowboard, The Heir (Rx), 5. Leo - Shine, Balance, 21. Resilience - Finding Your Limits; 6 of Cups, Queen of Cups, Page of Wands, XIII Death Channeled Locations: Mexico, Italy, Midwest US, France, Norway, Egypt, Chile, Brazil
Your pile is like the fiery passion of the wands suit. Independent and bold, you chose to take open road for your next adventure, blazing a new path in front of your very eyes. You have an eagerness to take the world by storm, going wherever your first impulse wishes to carry you. This pile has a lot of drive to move forward to the next chapter with as much speed as possible, optimistic to find that next golden opportunity. And you're not afraid of a little showboating along the way. You even have the Snowboard palette card, which is a sport involving nothing but speeding down slopes and catching incredible air. This pile is the most excited for their next adventure.
Except actually, pile 3, you're being asked to slow down a little bit. And I get it! I get that this message can be so frustrating when you see what looks to be an endless highway yet the speed limit says 55. That might be a good pace for many folks, but for this pile it's not nearly enough! The thing to keep in mind is that this process of moderating your pace is for your overall benefit. See, you have the only reversed archetype card in all the piles. The card speaks of untapped potential, which is still there. It's simply saying that whatever you're seeking to do next, you're not totally ready because there is too much you're still carrying with you. To go with the motorbike analogy again, any leftover baggage from your past is going to weigh you down so it's in your benefit to review what you have before you can move forward. The more you let it go, the faster you'll be able to pick up the pace.
You have a lot to be proud of with how far you've come already. This pile likely thrives on challenges and sees overcoming them as a big part of spiritual development. Which can be true in many cases, and you demonstrate clearly that you're not afraid of what's to come next. It may come as a shock to you that your next chapter might be a little more quiet than expected. This is likely because, if you've gone through a lot of growth in your last chapter, it makes sense to have some downtime to balance things out. The Queen of Cups can be introverted energy, but she knows how to use her alone time to replenish her soul with art and meditation. You may have more time to spend by yourself steeped in creative drive rather than trying to accomplish too many things in the outer world.
This is one of the more spiritually oriented piles; over this next big phase in your life, your creative skills may flourish and evolve to another level. Maybe for a while you've been inclined towards artistic pursuits, but feel a desire to expand upon what you're already doing. With this energy, you're in alignment to have more time and energy to devote towards passions like painting, sports, or music. In this way, you can take that immense enthusiastic drive from the Page of Wands and channel it into something constructive or purposeful, even if you don't intend to monetize it.
Your next big adventure is tackling the speed limits that exist within you: the self imposed beliefs that tell you how fast you can go or where you're allowed to proceed. Thing is, in your inner world, you have a lot more freedom than you would on any highway. You can choose for yourself how you wish to manifest your passions into the world, and you can decide how much or how little passion you put into your work. Things like imposter syndrome can be their own mountains to climb, and this time around you're more geared up than ever to take it on. Once the spiritual mountains have been overcome, you'll be able to top anything the next chapter in life brings you.
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Pile 4 - Train
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Cards: Nucleus, Billiard Green, The Gambler, 44. Sixth House - Sustainability, Trust, 1. Vision - Contemplating the Future; XVIII The Moon, 10 of Wands, 3 Cups, XV The Devil Channeled Locations: West US, Sweden, Japan, Czech Republic, Netherlands, Slovenia, China, Germany, Switzerland
You've picked the solid, earthy pile of moving forward to your next adventure by train. Locomotion is slow but it's steady and reliable with time. Fully embodying the principles of inertia, once it moves it keeps moving, but it takes a lot of initial effort to get things going. Something you've worked on is slow going, but you're close or nearing the finish line. Once this is accomplished, things will move much more smoothly for you without so much push. Your next chapter will be steady, but it will be easier than before because it's already in motion.
I find this pile intriguing, y'all. You have Gambler above the Billiard card, and the Devil card shows a casino as well. It's almost bringing to mind old train heist movies. There's action, adventure, mystery, and a lot of fun here in this pile. Your next big adventure could involve having more chances to go out and have fun with friends. You could meet new friends around this time who will have a lot of extra pep in their step. They'll get you out of your shell if you've been in one for a while. Alternatively, if you see yourself as a party loving daredevil already, this new friendship may slow you down and protect you a little, in a good sense. They'll either be the head to your heart, or the heart to your head.
This pile is definitely more inclined to go with the flow in the next chapter. I almost typed 'glow' on accident, so perhaps you'll also experience basking in a 'glow' of some kind. You could be overcoming a huge obstacle at this time and look forward to more unstructured down time. You're encouraged to take time to enjoy yourself before moving to the next phase, but to also balance it out by taking moments to see where you'd rather go next. It's easy, after a huge achievement, to lose pace once the "now what?" sign is reached on your path. Go-with-the-flow doesn't necessarily mean 'fuck around and see what happens', lol. Try to find a middle ground here between playing and planning.
Your work-life balance will likely have some kind of pressure valve released like steam. You've had to really push for what you wanted this year. When opportunities looked scant, you had to tap in to your own power and immense resources to pull through. You've done so in flying colors. So your desire for freedom and thrills after a hard chapter is totally understandable. If you're not finished with something, there's almost a temptation here to run from it now and deal with it later. This isn't recommended; push through to the end because soon you will find yourself on the other side basking in the glow, and relaxing will be so much easier once you're fully done.
There's also advice to not get too carried away with material desires here. Your next chapter may have your finances fluctuating up and down, so try to stay steady with investments. If a windfall comes in, don't spend it all in a day. The Trust card here is talking about how you trust yourself with your resources and energy. When you're able to carry a greater amount with more responsibility, more will be added to you in due time. You're being asked to make small and consistent investments with wherever you're putting your value and resources into. Nothing wrong with wanting to splurge on something nice of course, especially if you've been working hard and you want to reward yourself. This is more to do with long term investments over the next few years.
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This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.
2023, @VitaminseeTarot ™
Decks Used: Tarotwave, Starcodes Astro Oracle, Citadel Oracle, StarDragons, Opal Oracle, Starlight Messages, Color Palette cards
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cosmicdumpling · 1 year
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what builds a home » jeong yunho
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SYNOPSIS: Marriage is everything but easy. It can make or break your life, your dreams, and your very being. Thankfully, you're blessed with a wonderful husband, who continues to work hand in hand with you to ensure that your married life is nothing short of blissful.
PAIRING: yunho x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used asw)
GENRE: romance/fluff, very slight angst, humor, suggestive
THEME/S: established relationship, husband!yunho, dad!yunho, mom!reader, basically parent au
⚠️  WARNINGS: profanities, pregnancy, suggestive (mentions/allusions to sex), no smut but there's a really intimate part that's almost foreplay, making out, hickeys, violence (yunho punches someone haha), reader gets verbally harassed, mentions of physical injuries
WORD COUNT: 7.2k
➺ MAIN MASTERLIST
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Your husband is devoted.
Devoted to loving you, and in helping you in any way he can.
Years ago when he first realized that he was falling in love with you, he vowed to himself that he will marry you and take good care of you for life.
Jeong Yunho is a man of his words.
The first two years of your marriage, you decided to spend traveling around the world, making the most out of your honeymoon; spending more, and more, and more leisure time with just each other. With Yunho being everything but boring, every trip guaranteed a fun time. You traveled to at least thirty two countries, splurging on food and service from the locals of your destinations until you have used up all the budget that you had set aside for that particular phase of the marriage.
Another couple of years later, you came to another decision.
You both finally decided that you wanted to start a family of your own. 
It took several tries, baffling you how hard it was to get pregnant when you’re actually trying for it, but after a while, it all eventually came through. 
Thank the heavens for giving you an amazing husband, because pregnancy is hell.
Even with all crazy cravings, ridiculous mood swings, body aches, and random anger bursts, Yunho made sure to not just see you through, but be with you through it all. 
He was your pillar. He studied and did everything he can do to help you through your pregnancy and never complained. He made sure to take good care of you, be gentle with you, and just continue to show his love for you through it all. He made you feel safe, and not once did he ever panic, even when your water broke in the middle of the grocery store and people were staring like crazy everywhere. Yunho prepared himself for it all.
And although everything seemed to be a little bit hazy and vague during that day— that very moment— you still couldn’t forget the first time Yunho held your little bundle of joy in his arms.
“Jeong Yunhee,” Yunho coos, his voice slightly cracking as his doe eyes begin to glisten with tears. “My lovely little girl...” He gulps; a poor attempt to hide the tremble underneath his voice as he listens to the cries of his newborn baby.
The lovestruck look on his face will forever be imprinted on your mind, for you have never felt any happier seeing how much Yunho adored your baby girl. You knew, right then and there, that he will be a great parent to her, just like how he’s an amazing husband to you.
That stayed true even when, admittedly, the first months of parenthood were… rather agonizing and draining. 
Thankfully, angels in the guise of mothers came to the rescue, coming over as frequently as they can to help you and Yunho with Yunhee. Sometimes they took turns, sometimes they came over together, but it was safe to say that they were always there to teach the two of you what you needed to know. And although you knew that the two of you were still lacking as newbie parents, you were both determined to learn and improve for your little girl.
Here you are today, waking from your shallow slumber for the sixth time tonight, your eyes barely fluttering open from the lack of sleep. Yunhee’s cries echo inside the room, not even a slight hint of light peeking from the curtains. It must not have been long since you last put her back to sleep. 
It takes you a few seconds to compose yourself, but it’s only when you’re shuffling to sit that you make out a figure of a man picking your baby up from the little crib. 
You move your arms to sit up, the space beside you warm although empty.
“Yunhee,” Yunho coos, voice raspy and thick from being drowsy as he takes his little one into his arms. “Sshh, it’s okay, baby. You’ve tired mama out big time today and she needs rest, but don’t worry, papa’s here. Be a good girl and go back to sleep, hm?” 
Yunho sways Yunhee back into a slumber, humming to a lullaby.
A tired smile creeps onto your lips, though you try your best to get up from the bed as quietly as you can, tiptoeing over to them and snaking your arms around your husband’s waist. Placing a soft kiss onto his shoulder blade, you rest your head on top of his arm and adore your bundle of joy as her eyes begin to flutter close with the sound of Yunho’s soft humming.
“She’s really a mini you,” you whisper, turning your head to smile at Yunho. Your faces are just millimeters away, so it’s hard to miss the smitten look he gives you— so soft and loving that you think he’s about to burst into tears right then and there again. As you give him a smile and his arm a reassuring squeeze, he leans over to place a soft, chaste kiss on your lips.
“Thank you for giving me this beautiful family,” He whispers, “It’s really all that I ever need and I’ve ever dreamed of.”
Feeling hot tears pool at the corner of your eyes, you tighten your hug around him and nuzzle your cheek into his bicep, staring fondly at the little girl sound asleep in his arms.
There wasn’t a day that Yunho wasn’t around to both help you and take care of you. He has been there since day one, and his dedication to your little family was just everything you needed to push through all the sleepless nights, and fearlessly look forward to whatever may come in the future.
Commitment builds a home.
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Yunho is the type of husband who dreams big for his little family. 
It’s something that isn’t really new to people, especially the ones you both know, simply because he had been a big dreamer ever since. Everybody knows Yunho to be the type of person who will do anything in his power to not let his dreams just be dreams. 
On top of all that, he will most certainly do anything— heck, everything, if he could— for the people he loves.
“—and then a veeery large garden with plenty of chicken!” His voice echoes from the veranda, Yunhee perched onto his lap. 
For a while, it’s silent, and you begin to suspect that he might have caused some sort of trouble again (you’ve grown to accept the fact that your husband is crazy, and it isn’t really that hard to believe), and also because it’s a given that he can be a total klutz sometimes. Your suspicion grows stronger by the growing second, but when you turn around, all you see is your husband and daughter looking at each other with expectant eyes.
“K-k—” 
Yunhee’s eyebrows begin to furrow, lips pouting as she makes sounds with her lips. Realizing what she’s trying to do, Yunho’s eyes grow even wider, his mouth opening along, as if it would help his daughter get the word out of her mouth.
“K-k—ken!” 
She finally yells along with a raise of her arms. The glow in Yunho’s eyes visibly brightens, and he stands to screech and laugh, putting his hands under Yunhee’s armpits to hoist her up happily. 
“Chicken!” Yunho repeats, happily nuzzling his nose against hers.
“—papa, ken!” Yunhee laughs and claps her hands.
“Oh, you want papa to be a chicken?”
Yunho doesn’t miss a beat and quickly goes into character, carefully placing Yunhee on the baby chair before squatting and isolating his neck to imitate that of a chicken. Yunhee bursts into a fit of giggles, which does absolutely nothing but spur Yunho on.
From afar, you let out a snort at the scene, shutting the faucet off with an amused look on your face. “Yun, stop scaring the child.”
Carefully, you begin rolling the hose, tidying up as quick as you can to be able to join in on the father-daughter moment.
“Yunnie isn’t scared,” Yunho says with glee, “Look at her, she looks so happy! Right, baby?” He coos, and without missing a beat, Yunhee replies with a little shriek. It goes without saying that Jeong Yunhee is basically an entire duplicate of Yunho— a huge, lovely, ball of sunshine with the prettiest smile— along with the fact that she picks up on things fast whenever he’s the one who teaches her. 
Oh, he’s definitely going to have to bear the stress of teaching mathematics later on.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that the third word she literally learns to say is chicken? Normally, children would say… I don’t know, maybe grandma, or something.”
“Well, I think you know better than to think that our family is normal,” Yunho says with a smile, and you only give him a mere shrug, because he’s right.
When it comes to you and Yunho, there’s absolutely nothing normal. Your likes, your vibe, your type of fun… how much more your own child?
With a jump in your stride, you join Yunho and Yunhee on the veranda’s steps, immediately holding your hand out to lift her.
“Hi, baby,” You purse your lips and press your nose to her fluffy cheek— which, of course, she got from her father— inhaling her scent before placing little kisses on her skin with your nose. She giggles at the feeling, hands flailing around to try and search for something to hold on to.
Eventually, her grubby little hands find your cheeks, squishing them like you’d always do to hers. She squishes them once, twice, thrice… and then pauses to look up and meet your eyes. When she sees your brows cock up in curiosity, she smiles— imitating the very look on Yunho’s face when he’s up to no good— but to your surprise…
Yunhee concentrates on your chin, leaning in slowly before carefully placing a quick kiss on it. She even says a little “mwah” as she does it, right before looking you in the eye and giggling aimlessly, as if she didn’t just do the cutest thing in the world.
Both yours and Yunho’s eyes are wide open, and you look at him with a tear-clad gaze— the byproduct of holding your giddiness in— afraid you’ll startle Yunhee if you decide to do so much as to squeal. Yunho feels his heart rise to his throat at the sight, though he blinks his tears away before scooting as close as he could and trying to grab Yunhee’s attention.
“What about me?! Yunhee, what about papa? Papa wants a kiss too, please— Yunnie, Yunnie, hey, look at papa, love— come on baby, don’t let me lose to ma—”
“She’s not even paying attention to you at all, Oh god, this is so funny— ow!” You shriek with a laugh when Yunho aggressively shakes his head while playfully thrusting and nuzzling it into the crook of your neck, his way of silencing you because he never accepts defeat.
Laughter and shrieks fill the space for a long while, and when the excitement begins to die down, Yunho decides to rest his head on top of your shoulder; one arm around your waist and hooked on your arm— the other playing with Yunhee’s hair, who’s lying snugly in your embrace. As you sit down together and admire the sunset hues, Yunho couldn’t help but sigh in bliss.
“Someday, we’ll be able to buy our own farm and build that modernized nipa hut we saw on Pinterest. Then, I’ll ask San to send us some pigs and cows and help us plant veggies and fruits...” He mumbles, fingers rubbing circles on your skin.
“And then we’ll spend our weekends and summers there, and on the weekdays, send our little Yunhee to school, pack her lunch up and fetch her from school with our dream car every afternoon.” 
You turn your head and look at him, so Yunho raises his head and rests his chin on top of your shoulder to face you closely as well. You don’t miss the way his gaze flickers between your lips and eyes, so you place a loving peck on his cupid’s bow. “Then papa will teach her how to dance when she’s older.” 
Yunho breaks into a grin.
“Then we’ll go to Everland and Lotte world often to bond, or even have some out of town or out of the country travels for leisure,” He sits up to narrow his eyes at the two of you, fingers forming into L’s as if to angle you and Yunhee together. “And papa will buy anything that his girls would want to have.”
You chuckle, shifting Yunhee in your arms and pointing at Yunho.
“Nini, tell papa he won’t be the only one doing that because we’ll buy him everything he wants too.” You say in a determined voice, making Yunhee screech, and then say the new word she’s been obsessing with by far—
“—ken!” She yells, arms flailing around as she laughs. 
This time, Yunho really couldn’t help but clutch his chest, taking a moment to collect himself before saying,
“Little Yunhee wants a chicken, she’ll get a chicken!” 
So, he goes back to doing his neck isolation, but with bent legs and flapping elbows this time, along with the request that Yunhee should give him a kiss in exchange for doing this one.
Dreams build a home.
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Yunho is the type of husband who values honesty. 
Whenever there’s something that troubles or worries him, he will always talk to you about it, even if it may become the source of a potential argument for the both of you. You’ve agreed that opening up and arguing would be better than lying at the cost of your relationship, or potentially risking miscommunication and hard feelings.
You’re reading Yunhee a bedtime story when the door to her bedroom creaks open, and you’re met with Yunho’s figure by the door, his gaze softening at the sight of the two of you huddled together in your pajamas.
“Papa!” Yunhee whisper-yells, carried away by the silence of the home, though her eyes are gleaming as she watches Yunho slip inside the room. He shuffles around the bed quietly before bending to place kisses on yours and Yunhee’s foreheads.
“You’re home early, Yun…?” The question falls out of your lips, and it’s a question because Wooyoung’s grand bachelor party shouldn’t have ended within a day. You know that they should be out for at least two to three days, as per what Wooyoung had explained to you weeks prior.
Yunho hums, looking up from stroking Yunhee’s hair. 
“Can we talk?”
“Mm. Just let me finish this and tuck her to bed, okay?” Yunho hums as a reply, giving you a tired smile before kissing Yunhee’s forehead one more time, placing a peck on your lips, and then heading out to your shared bedroom.
By the time the story ends, Yunhee is already fast asleep, and you place a quick kiss onto her cheeks before switching the lamp off and tiptoeing to the main bedroom. Upon arriving, you immediately get a whiff of Yunho’s familiar scent, and you find him on the bed, all washed up and changed into comfortable clothes.
“Baby?” 
You shut the door behind you carefully. Upon hearing your voice, Yunho peeks at you from under his arm, lifting his elbow to take a glance at you. 
“Tucked Yunhee to bed?” 
He sits up, sitting cross-legged onto your bed as you hum. Carefully, you sit across him, mirroring his position, although your hands are reaching over to fix his messy shirt out of habit.
“What is it that you wanted to talk about?” You ask in a hushed voice, a little daunted by what’s to come. You and Yunho usually have lots of pillow talks, but you do it while lying down or cuddling, so to be actually sitting up to talk means that Yunho means serious business.
You breathe, brows starting to furrow when Yunho begins poking his tongue against his cheek. Your thumb begins rubbing circles on the back of his palm to calm him, but it seems like you’re doing it for yourself more than for him. 
“Is something wrong, love?”
Yunho scoots closer to you.
“Somebody will be texting you in…” He takes a glance at the wall clock, “Like, maybe five minutes.”
“What? Why?”
“And I need you to tell her off,” Yunho finishes, staring at you dead in the eye. “Like, really tell her off. I don’t care how you do it.”
You pull your hand away, “Jeong Yunho, what the hell is happening?”
Yunho heaves a breath before he finally slouches, as if surrendering to his own self— against whatever debates and internal monologues he was having.
“So… we were celebrating Wooyoung’s bachelor party a while ago, right? There were... a lot of girls.”
“Baby, of course, there would be a lot of girls… It’s not called a bachelor party for nothing.”
Although you and Yunho had shared that both bachelor and bachelorette parties didn’t really sit right with the both of you (hence why you never hosted those even before you got married), it was his friend’s special day, so you asked him to come to the party anyway. It’s a day dedicated to celebrating Wooyoung’s engagement, which you’re amazed with, really, because Wooyoung isn’t easy to tie down at all, but here he is... you think. He’d also very generously asked permission from you if Yunho could come, since their six other lifelong friends would be there, and it would be a great time to catch up as well.
Yunho refused and told him that they could hang out another time, but you ended up making him come anyway because… why should he not? It’s his friend’s celebration. With the amount of trust you have for him as well, there’s no need for other questions to be asked.
“No, listen carefully, okay, love? The girls… you know what they do, right? Wooyoung's party had some professional escorts. No judgment to them, it’s their job to be all over us but I mean… I get a say too, right? So I said no, keep me out of this, and while the others kept their distance when I said that I don’t want anything from them and that I’m happily married, there’s this one girl who really wouldn’t budge. Wooyoung told me she’s probably new and looking for a bigshot client who can become her regular and she had her eyes locked on me— really locked on me that she never stopped lurking around me and bothering me until the end so I—”
Yunho pauses to breathe after unconsciously rambling for so long the veins in his neck are showing.
You hold your breath.
“So, I gave her your number.”
“You what?”
“What? I didn’t want her to get mine!” Yunho argues, “She was never going to listen to me anyway so I gave her your number because I needed her to get to leave me alone and I want you to tell her off and tell her that I’m taken yourself.”
He finishes his sentence with a huff, seemingly very upset with everything that has happened. On the other hand, you’re still a little flabbergasted, trying to process everything that he has told you so far, literally two minutes into the conversation.
“Yun, you—” He cuts you off instantly by taking your face into his hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs lightly.
“Are you mad? God, I’m so sorry, my love. I know, I would have been upset, too. I was so stressed that I just had to come home as soon as I could and talk to you about it. Goodness, now that I’m actually thinking about it, Mingi barely stopped me from jumping off that ship and swimming back home. It was the craziest thing I ever thought of doing but I was just so vexed—”
“Yunho,” You chuckle, cutting him off this time as you take his hands from your cheeks and hold them in yours. “I’m just glad you didn’t jump and drown or fall to your death, okay?”
For a moment, Yunho’s brows are furrowed, because… did you even hear all the things he said? You seemed to be more focused on the thought of him jumping off the ship and drowning rather than all the things that involved the girl. But when you speak again, he finally understands why.
“And it’s fine, I’m not mad. I promise.” 
He’s finally able to breathe properly for once today.
“Why did you even make me go to that stupid party anyway…” He mumbles sulkily, a pout gracing his lips as he lets his head fall onto the crevice of your neck and shoulder, eyes closing as he finds comfort in your warmth.
A giggle bubbles from your throat at the feeling of being amused at how Yunho had reacted to such a thing. With a smile, you shuffle into a more comfortable position by climbing onto his lap, to which he quickly adjusts to. He leans his back against the headboard, lower limbs stretched, you seated on his lap caged in his arms, and his head still in the crook of your neck. Your hands find his hair, combing through it to prolong the moment further. You feel Yunho jolt a bit as he shudders at the feeling.
“So… did Wooyoung have to turn the ship around so you can come back to land?”
Yunho smiles and nuzzles his head further onto your skin, “No, he let me borrow a yacht, but that would have been hilarious.”
There’s silence for a while, but it’s comfortable. You think Yunho may have fallen asleep at some point, until he shuffles a bit and places two quick pecks on your collarbone.
“So… this is the thing that’s been bugging you?”
Yunho pulls away for a bit and nods, his eyes looking a little misty. 
“Yes. I mean, I know what bachelor parties are and I know that those girls were just doing what they were paid for but… really? Bugging a married man to death? I even made sure to boast my ring to everyone so that nobody comes after me. It’s just… I don’t know, love. Being eyed or touched by women who aren’t you... I don’t like it. Even I don't want to share myself with others.”
“Silly Yuyu,” you chuckle, and Yunho feels his heart lurch to his throat at the use of the old nickname you gave him.
“I think you ought to know, I would have only gotten disappointed if you decided to do so much as to amuse her but you didn’t, and that’s all that matters. I mean— I must admit, having many people fawning all over you every time can get a bit annoying for me sometimes too. But then again, who wouldn’t want to try to get you, you pretty, pretty man?” You chuckle, holding the sides of his face and lifting his head up to look at you properly. “I trust you enough and you never fail to show me every time that you treasure it so much. Thank you for being honest with me.”
Yunho’s shoulders visibly relax, and he’s practically just melting in your arms the more you talk to him. Your heart softens at the thought— he must have been really stressed and uncomfortable.
“I love you. I don’t and would never want anybody but you,” He murmurs, arms holding you tighter as he places kisses on your neck.
“You know that, don’t you?” 
He mumbles, lips softly grazing the sensitive skin of your neck before he nuzzles his nose against it. Breath hitching high up your throat, you can only hum, feeling your breath get heavier by the second. Yunho continues leaving kisses on your skin— from your jaw down to your neck, your collarbones—
“Can I?” He asks, wide eyes looking for an answer as he holds the hem of your shirt. You nod, and without wasting any more time, Yunho pulls it off of you, leaving you in your bra.
“You still wear one at home?” He chuckles, fingers toying with the lacy material.
“Shut up, I had to double check if all the gates and doors were locked, and when I went outside, there were still a lot of people roaming around. I didn’t know you’d be coming home.”
He giggles right before nuzzling his face in the valley of your breasts.
“Hey! That tickles—”
Ping.
Both you and Yunho turn to the source of the sound; your phone gleaming brightly on the nightstand. You lift yourself briefly from Yunho’s lap to grab your phone, swiping on the notification as you settle back onto his lap.
“Oh, it seems like she texted.”
“Call her,” Yunho says, shrugging when you look at him incredulously, “It should make things easier to settle. We’re in the middle of something here, you know?”
You snort at his behavior, though you follow nonetheless. To be frank, you were also in a rush to get things over with, anyway. 
It rings twice before there’s a cheery voice from the other line.
“Hello, Mr. Jeong! This is Seola from a while ago, I hope you remember me.”
“Hi, Mrs. Jeong speaking,” You reply, and Yunho purses his lips to avoid bursting into a fit of laughter, though there’s an amused look on his face.
And he thinks definitely turning insane, because hearing you tell others that you're his wife has never sounded so hot.
“Are you one of the ladies at Wooyoung’s party?”
There’s a pause from the other line before she stutters out, 
“I— uh— um, yes…”
“Listen, I’m not going to make this any longer than it should be. He’s a married man, babe, there’s no point in trying to push things, and I know he tried to get his point across several times. Please, try to respect not only his boundaries but also our marriage. You made him really uncomfortable today, and it was supposed to be a happy celebration between him and his friends. In the end, he couldn’t even get to stay longer at the party and spend time with his buddies because he was too perturbed to do anything.” 
Disappointment laces your voice, your mind going back to think about how lethargic and amiss Yunho looked when he opened the door to Yunhee’s bedroom.
“I’m— I’m so, so sorry, it’s just… I thought he was exaggerating by telling me that he’s married because he seemed shy. I promise you I was just trying to entertain as many clients as I can, I really needed the pay…”
You nod, almost as if she can see you talking right in front of her. “I see what you mean, but next time, I hope you’ll be more cautious, yeah? Not all people—“
You stop speaking abruptly when your breath hitches high up your throat, and it’s because your husband is suddenly kissing and sucking on the skin just above your breast without warning. 
You give him a glare (that’s barely one) as if to ask him what he was doing, but he only stops nipping at your bruising skin and leaves a kiss on top of it before telling you,
“Keep talking.”
The sudden drop of his voice makes electricity run up your spine, and you’re the first to break eye contact.
“N-not all people consent to be touched so you should... you should ask f-for consent and... and respect their wishes...” You manage to stutter out, though Yunho is making it very hard to focus and breathe when his large hands are tracing patterns on the expanse of your stomach.
“Yes. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Jeong. I’ll delete this number and never bother you again. Thank you for being kind to me even after my mishap…”
Yunho begins massaging patterns just above your navel.
“Mmhm…” A hum unconsciously leaves your lips, and there’s silence for a while. You make eye contact with your very, very mischievous lover, who seems to be thriving now that he has your eyes on him— and his ministrations.
Yunho’s hand goes a bit lower.
Lower.
There’s a small squeak from the person on the other line; “Um, Mrs. Jeong? Are you oka—“
Lower.
“That— oh, yes— that’s all, I’m hanging up.”
Once you end the call and throw your phone somewhere on the bed, you grab Yunho’s cheeks with a hand and chuckle.
“You’re crazy, you know that?”
He angles his face away and threatens to bite your thumb, which you pull away with a laugh. “Hmm, I was planning to let her know just how married we are.”
“Like I said, crazy.” You roll your eyes.
Right after the words leave your lips, you’re laid onto your back, and Yunho’s hovering dangerously close above you. 
“Will you let me love you, my love?” He asks, hooking your legs around his hips, leaning in closer to you and combing stray strands of hair away from your face. "Will you take what's yours?"
“Yes,” It comes out breathlessly, though you try to compose yourself before you whimper out in a jesting manner, “Please. I’ll go cuckoo on you if you don’t after what you just did.”
Yunho giggles at your little comment, though he doesn’t waste any more time. His plush lips touch the expanse of your throat, your jaw, traveling upward until he’s capturing your lips into a passionate kiss. And as the kisses grow deeper, and deeper with each passing minute, you and Yunho need not speak to know that the night is still young and that you— for the first time in a while— will get to lavish each other with endless love until the crack of dawn once more.
Communication, honesty, and faithfulness build a home.
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Yunho is the type of husband who will protect his loved ones no matter what it takes, no matter what it will get him into. He is somebody who isn’t afraid of anything if it means he’ll be able to defend the ones he holds dear to his heart.
You just got home from being called to the principal’s office of Yunhee’s daycare. As you place all of your things onto the table with your little one trailing guiltily behind you, you finally sigh and let your tense shoulders relax.
Yunhee’s little feet take her to the dining table, and she hoists herself up the chair without saying anything, knowing you’re still probably a bit frazzled with what the principal had told you about Yunhee’s behavior at school. As you turn to her, your frustrated orbs meet her guilty, puppy-like ones— ones she exactly got from Yunho, for sure. The tension leaves your shoulders at the sight of her. 
You know your baby girl, and she does things with reason. You and Yunho raised her that way, and you’re sure you did a great job at it. All you have to do is to listen to what she has to say, because you know that what the teacher has told you isn’t the entirety of the story, especially not when she hadn’t allowed Yunhee a second to defend herself.
So you do.
You plop onto the seat right across from her in an attempt to talk.
“Before we speak, do you know where papa is?” You ask, but Yunhee only shakes her head.
And then, your neighbor comes bursting through the door.
“y/n!” he calls, panting as he tries to catch his breath. “Yunho got into a fight down the street! Go, I’ll look after Yunhee—”
You don’t even get to hear the last part of his sentence yet, and you’re already sprinting out of the house. You rush head on towards a huge, obvious, crowd of people down the street, because it could only mean one thing. 
You swore you had never run past four houses in the block in less than ten seconds until today.
“Yunho!” You yell like a mantra, even from blocks away, until you’re pushing through the crowd to get to him, trying to get his attention, but to no avail. Yunho is overly focused, busying himself with tackling the man down and punching the living nuts out of him.
“Yun, stop! Please—” You gasp as soon as you get a hold of him, pulling him up from further harming the other man. It’s a flurry of yells, bruises, and blood, but you somehow manage to get Yunho back inside the house in one piece.
Yunhee grimaces as soon as he sees Yunho’s cuts and darkening bruises, although her eyes are becoming watery from sadness and worry. You give your neighbor your thanks along with a promise of pots for his new plants (he was a major gardening freak somehow even without a green thumb), but he waves it off, saying he was happy to help keep your (crazy) husband alive at least.
“Now,” You sigh just as you finish treating Yunho’s wounds, running a hand over your face in distress. He’s leaning by the kitchen counter, holding an ice pack to his lips, a visibly irked look on his face..
“What happened?”
You look over to Yunhee by the living room, who averts her gaze as soon as she sees you turning to her direction. Yunho notices this, and he turns around so that he could speak, properly facing you, without alarming Yunhee. He takes one last breath as a (poor) attempt to calm down, but successfully lowers his voice.
“We really should have listened to the other neighbors. That neighbor they all hate? God, that bastard has apparently been wanting to go after you and, fuck, I know I have such a lovely wife and I know how many people are trying to go after you out there everyday but he— he actually had the audacity to—! Heck, he asked about you, y/n, and in a way that he’s not supposed to; like a dirty fucking sicko! He asked me about you like I’m not your husband, told me about all the things he—” Yunho pauses to take a breather, chest heaving violently as he tries to control his emotions.
“And it angers me so bad because even when I have been treating him nicely— we have been treating him nicely when nobody else would; when everybody told us from the very start to treat him like an outsider and not have anything to do with him— when nobody ever showed him any kindness but us and he had the audacity to— god, I just can’t fathom the danger that he might become— good god—”
Yunho gasps and pants by the time he’s done rambling, especially because he’s whisper-yelling— making breathing pretty much harder to do. Although with the way he’s still trying to gain momentum for another perfect timing to speak, you know he’s not yet done. A spur of the moment thing, perhaps— Yunho never loses his cool when he’s in public, or not even at home, especially when Yunhee is around, but today seems like an exception. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, but he flinches when it touches his open wound. 
And as much as you’re a little moved and overwhelmed, you raise a hand to stop him from speaking, seeing that his neck veins are almost popping out once more from distress. With an agitated look on his face, he understands, shaking his head in a desperate attempt to try and calm himself down.
“Okay, okay. We’ll talk about this later. I promise we will do all that we can to collect stuff on him and report him. For now, calm down, please. You might scare Nini…”
Yunho nods, shoulders finally slouching as he heaves deep breaths. He moves to get himself a cup of water, and you see a pair of misty, beady eyes looking over at you with worry, so you approach her and squat down to level with her.
“And you? What happened today, darling?”
“Well…” She fiddles with his fingers anxiously. “Sejun’s mom yelled at you and called you bad words when you scolded him for bullying me the other day. Sejun got the bad virus from his mom today and chose to call papa bad words in front of me so I got angry and punched him.” 
She mumbles rather sadly, still toying with her fingers with her head ducked down. Yunho’s angry gaze softens from behind you upon hearing his own child’s words, and you promptly turn to glance at each other.
You don’t exactly know why, but you end up bursting into a fit of obnoxious laughter after a few moments of silence. Yunho soon follows, and although Yunhee is a bit puzzled by the sudden change of mood, she laughs along, anyway.
"Ow, ow, ow! My lips—!"
"Stop laughing, Yunho!"
"I can't!"
"Papa, you're going to hurt yourself even more if you continue laughing..."
"So, tell papa, Jeong Yunhee. Did you win? You better have won."
"I did! Sejun had to be sent to the infirmary."
"That's my girl!"
"Oh, you two..."
You stood up for Yunhee and cared less if somebody’s mother of high repute was calling you derogatory words because you wanted to defend and protect your daughter. Yunho got into a fight with a pervert and cared less if he got injured because he wanted to protect you. Yunhee, as young as she is, punched a classmate and cared less if she’ll get zero stars for the next weeks of class because she wanted to protect her dad.
While violence should never be justified, the thought is undeniable; families, no matter how imperfect, will always stand up for each other when the other can’t come around and do it for himself. 
Unity builds a home.
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Yunho is the type of husband who will never cease to show you his love and appreciation even in the smallest of things, no matter how much time has passed by.
He still wakes you up with sweet kisses, rambles about how much he loves you every night, thanks you for giving him a beautiful family, treats you to dates, gives you gifts, and everything else that he had been doing since the start of your relationship. Even when he’s tired, or when you’re arguing, or when you’re both down in the dumps, he never ceases to let you know that he loves you still, and that he will continue to for as long as he could.
Today is your sixth anniversary, and the father-and-daughter tandem managed to surprise you with a bouquet of flowers and cake early in the morning. In the afternoon, you decide to spend the time on your farm, celebrating your milestone together.
This time, you’re the one who’s bearing a surprise for them.
Truth be told, it felt like yesterday when you and Yunho dreamed about having a farm of your own, but here you all are.
You watch as Yunhee plays around in the grassy area while Yunho does some gardening, although, his focus is obviously halved with how frequently he looks back to make sure that Yunhee is safe. From where you are, you see how happy Yunhee is, and how a smile graces Yunho’s lips whenever he sees Yunhee laugh and enjoy. 
Your own lips unconsciously stretch into an equally fond and contented smile at the sight of your loved ones.
Carefully, you set the picnic spot up, being in charge of the most important part of today’s event. Everything has to be as perfect as it could be. 
Prying the bag open, you grab the mat out and lay it onto the grass before bringing the food out from the kitchen one by one. As soon as Yunhee catches a whiff and a sight of all the delish food that you made, she’s quick to abandon the chicken she was previously running after to dash to you— to the chicken’s relief.
Bursting into a fit of chuckles when she plops down onto the mat, you shake your head as she rolls over to lie down on her stomach. She rests her chin on her hands with her elbows propping her up, little legs swinging back and forth as she innocently gives you a very, very cute look.
“You are so like papa.” You playfully roll your eyes at the image of her dimples showing as she lets out another giggle, happily rolling around the mat, examining a certain dish, and then rolling over again to repeat it with another dish.
Yunho approaches the two of you, his shirt slung over his shoulder as he takes his gardening gloves off. He stands right beside you, and like it’s your second nature, you turn your head just on time to receive his expected kiss.
Yunhee grimaces at the sight, a gag resounding through the open area, though she giggles right after seeing Yunho mock the look on her face.
“Hmm, mama, you told me you have a surprise for us, didn’t you?” Yunhee mumbles, rolling over on her back and raising her arms up to the sky for no reason. Yunho takes notice of this and snickers to himself.
“She got that from you,” Yunho whispers while he washes his hands on the outdoor faucet behind you, lips pouting to point over to Yunhee’s unusual mannerism. You snort and try to hit him, though he dodges your hits flawlessly.
“Anyway, yes I did, honey.”
Yunhee beams at you upon hearing your reply. Quickly, she crawls over to you to rest her head on your lap, and your hand finds her hair in a millisecond. Yunho walks over, wiping his wet hands onto a clean towel before plopping down onto the mat as well. He discards the shirt that was previously hung on his shoulder before leaning back on his palms a little for air.
“So… Now that the four of us are complete, should I reveal my surprise?” 
You ask, grinning at Yunho who already has his head tilted in question. Looking down on your lap, you see your daughter already looking up at you with curiosity in her eyes.
“But mama,” Yunhee says, sitting up with furrowed brows. “There are only three of us here.”
Shaking your head, your eyes briefly flicker to look at Yunho who’s slowly sitting up from leaning back, puppy-like eyes growing wider by the second as if begging for an answer. But you only give him a grin, lift a hand, and begin counting.
“One, two, three…” You trail off, pointing to yourself, Yunho, and Yunhee respectively.
“And four.” you add, finally pointing to your stomach.
“Yunhee,” You say, grinning down at the confused girl. “You’re going to have a baby brother!” 
Like the flip of a switch, the little girl’s face lights up, and the first thing she does is turn to her father. 
“Oh god,” Yunho sighs happily as he buried his face into his palms briefly, his faint dimples deepening as he breaks into an extremely jovial smile. Yunhee’s yells could still be faintly heard in the background while Yunho pulls you up and sweeps you off your feet.
Laughter erupts from you as he twirls you around before placing a kiss on your lips. 
And again. 
And again. 
And again.
And again. 
Yunhee’s protesting whines cause the two of you to pull away, sitting back down onto the picnic mat but all huddled together.
“I love you,” Yunho mumbles, kissing you again before looking down at his little girl. “And you.” He adds right before peppering hundreds of kisses on her face.
Yunho then gives you a smile before reaching down to rub your belly. 
“And of course you, too.” 
He chuckles, tackling you down to place kisses onto your belly, making you screech and flail around at the sudden action.
And it is then when you realize that there are many things that could build a home, may the answer be parents and a child, devotion, respect, loyalty— there are so many values to mention. 
But one thing is certain; only one thing can complete a home. And your family, although little, has a tremendous amount of it.
Love.
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KIA'S NOTE: another work from my old acc revived, though i did rewrite it by a lot hehe lmk what you think through my asks or through the tags! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
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fangirleaconmigo · 1 month
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I've been going through some of your posts about Geralt and Dandelion's friendship in the books recently because... well I'm back in my book/game phase I guess and I really wanted to know if there are any other Dandelion friendships you like from the books and why? Like him and Zoltan or with the other Hansa etc? [Personally I'm a big fan of what little we see of him with Regis and it always makes me weepy that he wrote a biography about him in the games and fondly remarks abt him smelling like herbs all the time]
Awww yayy thanks for spending some time on the ol blog. I absolutely love this question. I don't get to talk enough about Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, and his relationship with Dandelion (for the newbies, that is Jaskier's name in the books) is so lovely.
Dandelion and Friendships
For those who are just joining us, Tea is talking about my series about Geralt and Dandelion's friendship in the books.
I have also written posts about Dandelion's friendships with Ciri and Zoltan:
Dandelion and Ciri
Dandelion and Zoltan
And for this post, I'll focus on Regis and Dandelion's friendship, which I absolutely love.
Dandelion and Regis Friendship (books)
What really strikes me about Regis and Dandelion, is just how patient and kind Regis is with Dandelion. Sometimes it is almost like he’s dealing with a child he cares about. Considering Regis’s age (over four centuries old), Dandelion (approx in his thirties when they meet) IS a child. 
On top of that, Dandy’s personality is rife with traits often associated with kids:
insatiable curiosity to the point where he endangers his own life, (when they go into the forest or sea, Geralt has to essentially, follow right behind him like you would a toddler),
hyper enthusiasm about every discovery he makes, (he whispers in awe when he sees mandrake for the first time, that’s just how he reacts to everything new)
his inability to censor himself or stop asking questions even when everyone else wants him to shut up (he will ask until he understands, no matter the social cues happening)
the way he will act incredibly transparent and awkward while thinking he is being subtle and smooth
Perhaps that is why Regis seems to be so indulgent of him. And somehow their personalities just fit naturally.
Regis’s most annoying trait is to lecture people at length like a professor and cut people off who are asking a question, since he is too eager to answer it. The vampire loves to hold forth on a topic.
Dandelion’s annoying trait (one of many, bless, we know he can't keep it in his pants either) is to ask questions incessantly. In that way, they really kind of fit together. 
Geralt loses patience when Dandelion is being socially inappropriate by asking too many questions. Geralt really values discretion and manners.
Regis is more willing to spend time explaining things and to open up.
Early in the hansa's time together, (before he manages to surprise folks several times over) Dandelion is often seen as the one who is in way over his head. Everyone else is a warrior or a soldier. Dandelion is the soft one. To add to the indignity, Geralt is angry at him during Baptism of Fire because Dandelion keeps forcing him to make friends (well, to ask for help)
Yet Regis, the new guy, is the one who always makes sure Dandelion isn't embarrassed or ashamed.
Here’s a few examples.
When Dandelion is given a bloody head wound by an arrow, the poet is howling and shrieking. He thinks he's dead already. He is not a stoic man. It is played comedically, but Geralt is also legitimately terrified that he will lose Dandelion. That bit is not played comedically.
But given the circumstances, the rest of them could be forgiven for rolling their eyes at the poet's dramatics.
But Regis (who is treating his wounds as the resident barber surgeon) does not.
Regis speaks to him so soothingly, and kindly. (I am omitting the Geralt dramz because I will get off topic lol)
Dandelion groaned and took a sharp intake of breath....
“I’ll put in a few stitches,” Regis said...”Be brave, Dandelion.”
Dandelion was brave.
“Almost done here,” Regis said, setting about bandaging the victim’s head. “Don’t you worry, Dandelion, you’ll be right as rain. The wound’s just right for a poet, Dandelion. You’ll look like a war hero, with a proud bandage around you head, and the hearts of the maidens looking at you will melt like wax. Yes, a truly poetic wound....”
And when it is revealed that Regis is a vampire, and Dandelion is afraid of him, Regis is incredibly patient and kind about the whole thing. He does not take offense. Geralt does! (Ironic, considering Geralt ran Regis off, but Geralt, bless, is dealing with a clusterfuck of feelings about the vampire and everything else going on in his life.)
But yes, after Geralt tells Dandelion about Regis, Dandelion is scared, and wants to seek reassurance. But the poet (unbeknownst to him it seems) is awkward and bad at it. He tries to bring up the issue with the subtlety of a sledge hammer.
Dandelion...deciding to clear up the uncertainty..began as soon as they set off. With his usual tact.
(I like that. His usual tact. Meaning, zero tact lmaoooooo.)
“Milva,” he suddenly called as they were riding, sneaking a glance at the vampire as they were riding, sneaking a glance at the vampire. “...I fancy eating a hunk of real meat for a change! How about you, Regis?”
Yeah. Real subtle Dandelion.
“I beg your pardon?’ the vampire said, lifting his head from the horse’s neck. 
“Meat!” the poet repeated emphatically. “...fancy some fresh meat?”
“Yes, I do.”
“And blood. Would you like some fresh blood?”
“Blood?” Regis asked, swallowing. “No. I’ll decline the blood. But if you have a taste for some, feel free.”
Geralt, Milva and Cahir observed an awkward, sepulchral silence.
I love that. Awkward sepulchral silence. Dandelion causes a lot of those. But Regis does not dismiss him or laugh. He reassures him.
“I know what this is about, Dandelion,” Regis said slowly, “And let me reassure you. I’m a vampire, but I don’t drink blood.”
The silence became as heavy as lead. But Dandelion wouldn’t have been Dandelion if he had remained silent.
But Dandelion wouldn’t have been Dandelion if he had remained silent. (sorry I am laughing every other line at this part)
“You must have misunderstood me,” he said, seemingly lightheartedly. “I didn’t mean-”
“I don’t drink blood,” Regis interrupted. “...I gave it up.”
Dandelion doesn’t know what that means and keeps pestering Regis to explain. Geralt is embarrassed and tells Dandy to shut up.
However, Regis opens up around the camp fire that night. He tells his life story, and says he hasn’t drank blood in fifty years. Dandelion is incredulous. 
“Not at all?” Dandelion said, and stuttered. But his curiosity got the best of him. “Not at all? Never? But...?”
Geralt is embarrassed again and shuts him down again. Regis, by contrast, is patient and defends Dandelion.
“I beg your pardon,” the poet grunted.
“Don’t apologize,” the vampire said placatingly, “And Geralt, don’t chasten him. I understand his curiosity.”
Baptism of Fire 291-295
That's right. Don't chasten him Geralt.
Regis and Dandelion also just have a wonderful dynamic of picking on each other.
Dandelion teases Regis about his long ass name.
And Regis has a great time teasing Dandelion lovingly. In one scene, Geralt and Regis team up to pick on Dandelion and the secretive way he treats his writing. Dandelion has stolen some paper and pencil from a Lyrian military convoy and is writing whenever they make camp, but gets testy whenever anyone gets near him or looks at his manuscript.
Geralt is good-naturedly giving Dandelion a hard time and Regis jumps in with such adorable relish. (Also, in this scene, we find out that Regis actually named Dandelion's memoirs)
"Indeed," the witcher joined in...."You've become devilishly touchy, Dandelion. One cannot fail to notice that it is somehow connected to the paper which you have recently begun to deface with a bit of lead while we camp." “It’s true,” Regis agreed, “our minstrel has become touchy, not to say secretive, discreet, and loving of solitude recently. Oh no, having witnesses when performing his natural needs doesn't bother him at all...His shameful secrecy and oversensitivity to being watched extends solely to his scribbled notes. Is, perhaps, a poem being written in our presence? A rhapsody? And epic? A romance? A canzone?”
He's like, you don't care who sees you piss and shit, but oh this you care about. lol. Tell us about the poem. But Geralt objects.
“No,” Geralt retorted...”I know him. It can’t be verse, because he’s not cursing, mumbling, or counting the syllables on his fingers. He’s writing in silence, so it must be prose.”
“Prose!” The vampire flashed his pointed fangs - which he really tried not to do. “A novel perhaps? Or an essay? A morality play? Dammit, Dandelion! Don’t torture us so! Reveal what you are writing?”
Dandelion says it is a memoir called Fifty Years of Poetry. Regis says that A Half Century of Poetry sounds better.
“Thanks, Regis, Something constructive at last.”
P 88 -90 The Tower of the Swallow
I admit I'm such a sucker (hehe no pun intended) for whenever Regis's fangs are mentioned, whether he is hiding them, baring them, or unselfconsciously showing them during a warm, silly moment with his friends. (Sobs, I love this vampire, seriously I need an intervention)
Regis also comforts Dandelion openly when the poet is doubting his courage or fitness for a task.
Later in the book, Geralt volunteers for a bloody job/violence for hire that terrifies Dandelion, so the poet protests the plan. Geralt insists he’ll do it alone.
But no! He has a hansa now! He won't be alone! Angoulême volunteers to go. Cahir says he’s coming with as well. Then Milva insists she is coming.
Dandelion freezes.
It would be like the LOTR ‘and my bow and my axe’ yadda yadda scene, but if there was one person left and when it got to them, everyone turned around and looked and they are just standing there frozen like....motherfuck this is scary idk idk wtf do I do. And the way this next paragraph is written, it pleases me.
Dandelion...was evidently struggling with his thoughts. And the thoughts were winning.
lmaooo
And Regis jumps in "kindly." He shows solidarity with Dandelion, and takes the heat by calling himself a coward.
“Stop meditating, poet,” Regis said kindly. For there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re even less cut out to participate in a bloody swordfight than I am. We weren’t taught to carve up our neighbors with a blade. Furthermore...furthermore..,” he raised shining eyes towards Geralt and Milva, “I’m...a coward,” he confessed curtly.
They keep arguing amongst themselves because Geralt believes they have been spied on. And Regis is just...always soft with Dandelion. When Dandelion starts guessing about who is spying on them, and is beginning to ramble incorrectly,
“You’re mistaken, Dandelion,” Regis softly interjected.
The Tower of the Swallow p 182
It's Regis's gentleness that just fuckn kills me. That's always the character that's gonna get me right between the ribs with a shank. (Metaphorically, Regis is too gentle for that)the one that lives in a horror filled, violent, cruel world and is still just kind, even to the loud, awkward, soft, obnoxious poet who is in over his head and is afraid you'll bite him in his sleep and who shrieks when he is wounded.
Geralt and Dandelion are so sassy and old/married with each other, deeply, proudly loving in actions, but always bickering.
It's sweet to see Dandelion have a friendship like the one he has with Regis.
It is so nice to hear that the games continued his love of Regis. (I haven't played them, so I get my info about them from you guys XD)
So thanks again for following me and for the ask! I hope I've done ok answering. I also love Dandy's dynamic with Nenneke and ofc Yen, but I'll stop there.
Hope your week goes really well. x
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albaskies · 22 days
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And if I didn't know better
Or: One evening, Ginny reflects on her choice to step up for Teddy, while trying to navigate her grief for the loss of those who never could. Read here or on AO3:
She isn’t quite so sure what made her decide to step up for a child when she was hardly an adult herself. Not that she’d done much at first - she’d barely ever been there during the first year of his life, and she’d only gathered the courage to rock him to sleep a few months after she’d moved back home. It was more of a feeling, as if she’d accepted the responsibility deep in her heart before she could even trust her own limbs to hold him properly. 
It feels like a lifetime away, now, as his little body is curled up against hers and his turquoise hair shines in the dim candlelight. They lay on several cushions and blankets scattered on the floor; an old white sheet stuck on four chairs hanging on top of their heads, covering the ceiling. They’ve built a fort, you know. Right after playing dragons and running around on invisible broomsticks (‘Feet on the ground, Teddy, please’). All in their living room, all after having dinner. 
Harry’s sent word that he’ll be home late - problems at the office. He sounded very disappointed to miss out on having Teddy over for the night, one of his favourite weekly activities. He usually sleeps over on Fridays, but they might have to switch it to Saturdays if Harry keeps on getting held back at work.
Ginny is seriously doubting that her strategy to try and wear Teddy out before bedtime has been effective, as Teddy’s eyes are still wide open and shimmering with energy. The cup of warm milk she’s offered him hasn’t quite done the trick, now left unfinished and forgotten on the floor right next to him. But then again, Teddy’s undergoing that toddler phase where nothing in the world can get him to wind down unless he decides to, thank you very much. How did Hermione call him? A threenager? Where did she even hear such a ridiculous thing?
She looks down at him again, as he has started to move his tiny hands and notice the corresponding shadow movements reflected on the sheet. His expression is full of wonder, not a care in the world, and she’s so grateful for the look in his eyes (and, yes, for the rare moment of quiet as well) that she feels her heart could explode.
‘Look, Teddy,’ she says, joining her thumbs and wiggling the rest of her fingers. ‘Isn’t that an eagle? Oh my, how did it get here?’.
Teddy squeals with laughter, unable to contain his excitement - the sweetest sound in the world.
‘Again, Ginny, again!’.
She regrets it, to have hesitated back then. It’s not that she didn’t care for him when he was a baby - quite the contrary, actually. She’d known she loved him so much since before he was even born; that one Christmas morning when Tonks had grabbed her hand and had gently placed her on her pregnant tummy.  But she was scared, terrified of messing it all up, of not being good enough. She still is sometimes - she’s just learned to cope with it better, or maybe to hide it better. She reckons that nobody really knows how to deal with a child from the beginning, especially when it’s not their own; and they are all a bit broken now anyway. But it doesn’t really matter, does it, as long as they’re there for each other, as long as Friday nights are still about dragons, invisible broomsticks and animal shadows on a fort sheet ceiling.
.
Harry had dived into the role with all his seriousness and solemnity because, well, what else do you expect. He’d tried so hard to get Teddy to like him from the start, as if there could ever be the risk that he wouldn’t. He’d show up to Andromeda’s house bearing so many gifts that she’d had to beg him to stop once and for all, for the love of Merlin. 
‘I just want to do something nice for him, you know,’ he’d told Ginny later, his brows furrowed and his glare focused on his tea mug.
‘But you already do,’ she’d said, her hand gently squeezing his thigh. ‘You’re there for him. That’s as nice as it gets.’
She could tell she hadn’t fully convinced him, just as she knew that he hadn’t been exactly truthful either. He wanted to do something nice for Teddy, sure, stepping in those daunting godfather shoes as smoothly as possible. But he wanted to do something nice for himself too, for his much younger self, trying to give away all the love and attention he’d been missing all his life. And she couldn’t really blame him for that, now, could she.
‘Gin,’ he’d murmured, his whisper almost pleading. ‘I don’t think I know what I’m doing.’
She’d moved her hand from his leg to his jaw, resisting the urge to cut him off with sarcasm, ‘Have you ever, though.’
‘Nobody asks that of you right now, Harry. You’ll figure it out.’
He looks at her, still unconvinced. ‘But Tonks and Lupin -’
‘No,’ she’d shushed him, gently pressing a finger on his lips. ‘Not even them.’
That’s the thing - nobody had asked her to, either. And it’s not that she’d felt compelled to act as an unofficial godmother only because of her relationship with Harry. He’d certainly never expected that of her. 
She’d felt hurt when her mum had implied that once. As if that ring that Harry had placed on her finger dictated all of her choices, as if she had to have a reason to desire to care for Teddy. As if she hadn’t known Tonks and Lupin, too. 
No, Teddy's become part of her life because of a very careful and important choice she’s made. It has been so incredibly natural, and it has required quite some effort, both at the same time. But it’s always been there, no matter what. 
There hasn’t been a single Quidditch match she’s played without looking for him and Harry in the stands; there hasn’t been a single house she and Harry have looked at without thinking about what room could become his for when he stays over. There hasn’t been a single time she hasn’t thought of him when looking at the clear blue sky.
.
‘And what about this?’, she asks him, still twisting her hands to give life to dark shapes on the sheet.
Teddy lets out a sweet chuckle. ‘A rabbit!’.
‘Good job, Teddy!’’ 
He claps his hands in excitement and his hair seems to have become an even brighter shade of blue.
‘More, more!’
‘Let’s see. What about…’ Ginny says, continuing to move her fingers. ‘This?’
He seems to think about it for a second, squeezing his eyes, wrinkling his nose. Then he beams.
‘A wolf!’
A beat.
‘Er - no, it’s a dog -’
‘No, it’s a wolf!’
‘Teddy -’
And before she knows it, he starts howling. 
‘Wolves aren’t scary, Ginny! You shouldn’t be scared!’
She looks at him in horror. Total panic. Her mind blacked out. That’s the one thing she hasn’t brought herself to do with Teddy yet - talking about his parents. Or even mentioning them, to be frank. She’s quite selfishly left that to Harry, because what does she know about this stuff, he’s a child, she doesn’t want to mess it up for him. She’s quite sure that she would, if she tried. She can’t even think straight after he’s seen the shadow of a wolf rather than a dog, after all. What a stupid way to react to a child acting his age, playing and having fun. Stop this. Don’t be a git, please stop this.
It’s almost as if Lupin and Tonks never enter the bubble that she creates when she’s with Teddy - which is absurd, nonsensical, completely idiotic. But,  well - her insides knotting in guilt at the mere thought - it’s easier this way. She feels ashamed of herself, absolutely fucking revolted. Now that he’s inadvertently brought it up though, a three-year-old braver than she’ll ever be, and he’s opened Pandora’s box (some famous Greek witch, she reckons), she's at a loss for words. It’s so subtle that she should just let it slide - she must, actually. He hasn’t even asked her anything, he hasn’t even made the connection. He doesn’t even know. 
Her mind is racing out of control and he hasn’t even done it on purpose. She’s the one who’s acting like a lunatic. She doesn’t know why she feels like she should say something, doesn’t even know what, because it would all sound wrong anyway.
You know, Teddy, she almost hears herself saying, but you know, Teddy, what exactly? Why can’t she get this thought out of her head? He’s blissfully unaware, and he’s just a child that is playfully pretending to be a wolf, what the hell wrong with you, Ginny, pull yourself together. 
She continues spiralling as she notices that he’s stopped howling, and is now observing her with curiosity. 
Fuck, you’re going to traumatise him, aren’t you. 
As she looks at him more closely, she notices that his eyes, that have been blue like his hair for months now, have now turned darker - a warm, chocolaty brown. And instead of feeling even more horrified, she simply calms down, her panic gone.
Funny how Lupin can offer her comfort even in death.
.
She is staring at the empty desk in front of her. The bell has rung and all her classmates have left already, but somehow she can’t bring herself to get out of the classroom and head to lunch. Not yet, because she is staring at the empty desk in front of her so intensely, almost as if she could get it to talk to her. She remembers sitting there, less than a year ago, just before her memory had gone blank into one of her many blackouts. She remembers opening her diary on her lap, bored to death at the sound of Professor Lockhart’s pompous voice, she remembers jotting down a few thoughts pretending to be taking notes. Then she remembers a voice, his voice, and nothing more. Maybe if she stares at the desks hard enough, it will come back to her, maybe she will remember how she got from the classroom to Hagrid’s shed and then back to the castle again… 
‘What are you still doing here, Ginny?’.
She blinks once, and then once again, trying to bring Professor Lupin’s greyish frame into focus. She isn’t sure since when he’s been sitting on the chair in front of her.
‘Are you looking for something?’, he asks, watching her carefully. She must look rather lost, because he quickly adds: ‘You did well in class, today.’
‘I - er, no - I mean, thanks,’ she blurts out. His dark brown eyes are still focused on her, studying her in detail.
She clears her throat, as if to gather her courage. There is something she’s been wanting to ask him, actually, but she isn’t even sure that she should bring it up. Percy has made it clear that she shouldn’t talk about it with anybody, but Percy doesn’t really understand what it feels like, doesn’t it? To lose control, to not know.
‘I suppose you were wondering what happened on the train a few days ago?’, says Professor Lupin bluntly, as if it’s the most obvious thing on the planet.
‘How do you -?’
‘You wouldn’t be the first to ask.’
As she observes him a little more closely than ever before, she realises he must be much younger than he looks. He has a few grey locks of hair here and there, his face is tired and emaciated, but he doesn’t have wrinkles around his eyes and mouth like her dad. 
He smiles, encouragingly. She clears her throat again. 
‘My brother Percy’s told me about the Dementors,’ she mutters, her glare back on the desk. ‘I know they make people feel bad. It’s just -’.
She suddenly hears it again, that low, yet so familiar voice, telling her she should not be frightened. Then flashes of light, blood, screams, and her clothes are unexplainably damp. 
She shivers, subtly patting her robes. She’s fine. She’s fine.
‘I did some things last year,’ she hears herself say. She doesn’t even know how she’s managed to gather enough strength to.
‘I just fear - well, I guess I worry that the Dementors will make me do them again.’
Professor Lupin falls silent for a few seconds. He continues to watch her, but has now stopped smiling.
‘From what I’ve heard, you haven’t chosen to do any of those things.’
He’s heard, then. She doesn’t wonder why - she reckons stories must travel fast among Hogwarts staff, too.
She would normally be ashamed, but now she can’t help but feel a hint of relief, stemming from Merlin knows where. After all, yes, he’s heard, but he’s still talking to her like she isn’t any different; he’s heard, and he’s still offered her chocolate. 
‘Don’t worry, Ginny, Dementors can’t make you reenact your bad memories. They surely make you relive them, though,’ he furrows his brows, as if an unexpected thought has suddenly crossed his mind. ‘Do you - er - have enough support here?’
She’s taken aback by this question, shame creeping on her cheeks. ‘I’ve got four brothers here,’ she quickly responds, but she knows that this isn’t what he means. She sighs. He seems to understand.
‘I’m working on it,’ she sputters, defensively. ‘It’s not exactly easy to make friends when all the girls in your dormitory think you’re a freak.’
It comes out spontaneously, but she immediately regrets using that tone with a professor. However, to her great surprise, he bursts into laughter.
‘I guess you’re right,’ he says, throwing her an enigmatic look. ‘But believe me when I say that friends are the most precious gift that Hogwarts can give you. Real friends will help you overcome all the hard times; and if they think you’re a freak, well, they’ll choose to be freaky with you.’
He stops smiling, suddenly looking rather thoughtful, but then quickly shakes his head. Somehow, she ends up with the strange feeling that he’s no longer having this conversation only with her.
‘Might I suggest,’ he adds, now back to his reassuring tone. ‘That you perhaps try to talk to other students that might have had - how to put this - a similar experience to yours? Harry’s a good friend of your brother’s, isn’t he?’
She feels it coming - the blush. One of the big ones. One of the bad ones.
‘No! I don’t think -’, she hisses, suddenly horrified, redder than she’s ever been in her life. ‘I don’t think that would work.’
He raises his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth slightly twitching.
‘Well, you never know,’ he states matter-of-factly. He then stands up, patting his hands on his legs. ‘But now I must really let you go. I wouldn’t want you to feel unwell during your next class because you haven’t had any lunch.’
She nods, grabs her things, mutters an awkward ‘Thanks’. Just when she’s about to leave, she hears him speak again.
‘It may be hard to understand now, but what happened to you doesn’t define you. Please, don’t ever forget that.’
It’s true, she doesn’t understand that quite just yet, but she will remember those words for the rest of her life.
For now, she’s busy spending the next few days ridiculously terrified by the thought of Professor Lupin telling Harry about their conversation. She imagines Harry looking at her with pity, disgust even, as a stupid little girl who can’t bring herself to make some friends. But this doesn’t happen - Harry barely ever looks at her, and when he does he seems, well, normal. She’s quite glad of that, for one. She’s also so incredibly glad that Professor Lupin respected her enough to keep her secret, that he could be trusted.
Years later, she’ll regret never having told him that she and Harry had fallen in love. She’ll reckon he would’ve liked to know that, he might have even been delighted. She’ll figure, as a punch in her stomach, that she’d assumed they’d have more time.
.
‘You know what, Teddy, you’re right,’ she finally says, gently stroking his hair. ‘Wolves aren’t scary.’
He beams, looking rather satisfied with her answer, and pulls up his back to sit against a big pillow.
‘Let’s play another game!’
Ginny sighs at his never ending source of energy; her hopes that relaxing under the fort would somehow make him drowsy are completely shattered. She quickly glances at the clock on the wall - if Andromeda finds out that Teddy's been up so late, she’ll never hear the end of it.
‘Time out, Teddy,’ she says, faking a yawn. ‘We should really go to bed now.’
Teddy frowns, pouting his lips and wrinkling his little nose.
‘What if we read the story of Babbity Rabbity?’, she then intervenes tentatively, hoping to jump in just in time to prevent a tantrum. ‘Come on, you love Babbity Rabbity…’
But Teddy isn’t having it. He shakes his head fervently, now crossing his arms.
Ginny wonders if this is the time to be a bit more assertive with him, if she could dare, even. Sometimes she feels like she’s still tiptoeing around him - she’s the one giving him all the fun and games, but when it comes to discipline, she finds that she’s quite rattled. He’s not her child, after all; she fears it’s not her place. Most of the time, she finds herself wondering how Lupin would deal with his son’s tantrums; she would love to see what Tonks would do. She reckons she would do anything to learn a bit more about parenthood from them both, even though (and to only remotely fathom this, her heart sinks) they haven’t had the chance to be parents for long. They would’ve been brilliant at it, though - this is merely her fantasy, sure, as she actually doesn’t know. Tonks and Lupin will remain fundamentally pure in her memory, because she doesn’t like to remember their flaws, especially not in relation to Teddy, and it won’t do any good to anyone, anyway.
‘Why don’t finish up your milk first?’, she tries again, pointing at the abandoned mug on the floor. With a flick of her wand, she mildly warms it up again. 
He nods enthusiastically, but something goes wrong when he grabs the mug and he spills all the remaining milk all over himself and the blanket. He immediately looks up at her, his eyes filled with remorse and anticipation, almost as if he’s realised he’s gone a step too far. Ginny is aware that Teddy’s clumsy to the point of exasperating his grandmother, and that he might even expect a scolding for his little distraction, but she feels a sudden rush of affection towards him instead.
‘All right,’ she says, standing up and taking him in her arms. ‘Time for another bath.’
She could easily scurgify and dry up his pyjamas, but she remembers how good it would feel when her mum would bathe her and then wrap her in a warm towel, always offering her snuggles and kisses along the process. She repeats the same ritual with Teddy, even playing with some dragon and quaffle toys in the water with him, just as her mum used to - only that the toys, at the time, were old and faded, sometimes missing a paw or an eye. 
She wraps him in the softest towel she can find, swings him in her arms while dancing across the hallway to reach her bedroom, and pretends to drop him on her bed. He laughs so hysterically and uncontrollably that his hair becomes curly. Her heart couldn’t be any more full.
She retrieves his pyjamas bottoms with a quick ‘Accio’ and helps him wear them, but decides to leave his milk-stained t-shirt on the bathroom floor. She ransacks first Harry’s, and then her own clothes drawer in search of something clean for Teddy to wear that isn’t the top of Harry’s Auror uniform, a pair of mismatched socks, a bra or some old Christmas jumpers. 
That’s when she sees it, stuck in the back of the drawer - a hint of green. She touches the cotton fabric and seizes it. It still feels soft, despite having been left unworn and forgotten in a drawer for years.
She realises her hands are shaking. She’d never thought she could’ve forgotten.
.
Ginny had never assumed she could smell dust before, but now she’s quite positive she’s been in the wrong all her life. As she sits in the dining room of 12 Grimmauld Place, taking a break from the massive amount of cleaning her mother has decided to subject her to since they’ve moved here (no exceptions, not even today), she feels like every inch of her body is covered with dust. Her hair, her fingers, her nose - to the extent that she thinks she can actually smell it. And it’s not great, considering that the more extensive the efforts they make to clean up the house, the more the house seems to turn out filthier than before.
Today it’s only her and her mother on cleaning duty, though. Everyone else is too preoccupied with what’s going to happen tomorrow - the tense whispering and nervous pacing are becoming almost unbearable. Her mum is worried too, of course, but she reckons that trying to tidy up this wreck of a place is the only way she knows to distract herself at the moment. Ginny is, for one, happy to oblige. She’d never thought she’d say this, but she’d rather dust every single one of those house-elf heads hanging on top of the stairs with a toothbrush rather than giving in to everyone’s anxiety.
Amused by the thought, she gets up to go and do just that, but someone barges loudly in the room from the door behind her back.
‘Wotcher, Ginny,’ says a ringing voice. ‘So, where's the party?’
Ginny smiles at Tonks, who has styled her hair in a bright purple ponytail today. Before she can say anything, Tonks hands her a little parcel, wrapped in crumpled paper that must have once belonged to an issue of the Daily Prophet. She recognises some of the scattered, black-inked words - ‘The Boy Who Lies?’, or: ‘Let’s hope he hasn’t got a scar on his forehead or we’ll be asked to worship him next’, and: ‘Delusional teenager’, ‘Better skilled at seeking attention than golden snitches’,  ‘Expert Circe Bryce confirms that orphaned children often employ cunning strategies to cope with their abandonment complex (more on page 8).’
‘Sorry,’ utters Tonks with an apologetic half-smile. ‘That’s all I could find.’
Ginny shrugs and lets out an unlikely high-pitched cackle. Laughs at the irony of it all. Everything seems to be overflowing with Harry these days, even her birthday presents. 
She rips out the paper, unsure whether she’s more eager to see what’s inside or to get those stupid printed words out of her sight. The first thing that she finds is soft and bright green, an unmistakable green, and she already knows what it is.
‘You didn’t!’, she cries out in complete disbelief. ‘No way!’
‘Heard you’re a big fan.’
Ginny wields a Holyhead Harpies t-shirt in her hands as if it’s a trophy, her most prized possession, and her eyes are sparkling.
‘The design is from 1981, the year you were born, I s’pose,’ continues Tonks with a satisfied look on her face, pointing at the golden print on the front of the t-shirt. It reads Holyhead Harpies in a curly font, never seen before. ‘I thrifted it from a small shop in Diagon Alley. I should take you there some time.’
Ginny nods with excitement, although she’s only listened to half of what Tonks’s said, too busy marvelling at her new t-shirt.
‘Come on now,’ adds Tonks, sounding very amused, pointing at the half-opened parcel. ‘There’s something else in there.’
Ginny opens her eyes wide and immediately dives her hands into the wrapping paper. She finds something thin and folded - when she opens it, it reveals a moving picture of Gwenog Jones darting through the air on her broomstick.
‘She’s a badass, isn’t she,’ comments Tonks. Ginny doesn’t respond right away, too busy mentally scanning the walls of her bedroom back at the Burrow to decide where to hang the picture.
‘Blimey, you’re spoiling me, Tonks,’ she manages to let out after a bit, still holding the t-shirt with one hand and her new poster with the other. She then throws her arms around Tonks’s neck, squeezing her tight. ‘Thank you, so much.’
She doesn’t quite know what she’s done to deserve Tonks’s affection after knowing her for barely over a month. It’s true, they spend most of their days together under the same roof, but they seem to have just instantly connected regardless. Tonks embodies everything that she aspires to be one day, plus she’s bold, unbelievably funny, and doesn’t coddle her. It feels good to be surrounded by women that aren’t her mother for a change - soothing, even. For what may be the first time in her life, this summer she’s truly felt the urge and longing for female companionship - maybe because she’s finally started getting used to it, back at school and here at Grimmauld Place. And now that Hermione’s back to fussing over Harry with her brother, and her mother is too busy running around yelling at people, she’s really only got Tonks to rely on. What amazes her is that Tonks doesn’t seem to mind - on the contrary, she appears to be rather thrilled to spend time with her when she can, unbothered by their age gap, almost taking her under her wing. In a time of her life in which she feels left out, a spare, Tonks has chosen to give her some purpose, to make her feel necessary. She doesn’t know why she does it, only that she’ll be eternally grateful for it.
‘Ah, it’s nothing,’ smiles Tonks, gently pulling away from her to give her a pointed look. ‘I’m sorry that we didn’t celebrate you more, though.’ 
She doesn’t need to add more about lingering wars, resistance movements and impending Ministry hearings.
‘What are you talking about,’ says Ginny, brushing those thoughts off quickly. ‘This birthday’s been dashing. Even your cousin’s made me a card.’
That’s quite true, actually. Her mum's baked a cake and everybody (well, except some angsty black-haired teenager, know anyone?) gathered around the table to sing her ‘Happy birthday’ first thing in the morning. Then she's opened her gifts - a jumper from her parents, quite a few boxes of Honeydukes from all her brothers, and the unexpected birthday card from Sirius, with the handmade drawing of a flying hippogriff that waves hello and smirks at her. Hermione's got her a book, unsurprisingly - but that’s frustrated her a little, because she knows she won’t be able to reciprocate on her own birthday, except with a stupid singing card and (if she’s lucky) with a box of chocolates stolen from one of her brothers. 
Tonks chuckles lightly. ‘Has that special boy wished you a happy birthday?’
Ginny shrugs, and just as she’s about to mutter a resentful ‘Barely’, she realises with a pinch of guilt that Tonks is talking about - well, another boy.
‘Michael’s sent me an owl,’ she says, blushing softly. ‘Said he misses me.’
‘Bet he does,’ remarks Tonks, observing her very carefully all of a sudden, as if she wants to read her mind. She waits a few seconds and then, rather out of the blue, she simply adds: ‘Don’t ever settle, all right?’
Ginny frowns, puzzled. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Tonks doesn’t answer, but winks at her, laughing. ‘You’ll understand with time, you’ll see.’
And indeed, she will.
.
Ginny wonders if the small shop in Diagon Alley is still there after the war. She’d like to find it now, pay it a visit, maybe purchase something in Tonks’s honour. They’d never managed to go together, in the end.
She exhales heavily and taps the vintage Holyhead Harpies t-shirt with her wand, shrinking it just enough to fit Teddy perfectly. She reckons he should keep it; she doesn’t seem to have it in her to wear it, anyway.
Teddy falls asleep peacefully wearing that t-shirt and maybe it’s pathetic, maybe it’s irrational, but she can’t help hoping that his mother’s touch will comfort him in his dreams tonight. 
She’s so deep in her thoughts that she doesn’t notice that Harry’s arrived home until he plants a gentle kiss on the back of her head.
‘Tough evening?’, he asks softly, gesturing towards Teddy.
Ginny sighs, leaning her head on his chest. ‘It was fine.’
He seems to understand, though, and decides not to push further. They hold each other in silence for a while, their eyes captured by the little boy snuggled under the blanket and asleep in their bed. Staring at the past and the future, all at once.
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lale-txt · 2 years
Text
♡ taking care of them when they have a fever ➳ w/ Kid, Mihawk & Rayleigh
a/n: i… i fought Tumblr text editor so long and hard for this and it‘s still a mess oh my god. anyway enjoy those silly little headcanons, i love putting those lads into ✨situations✨
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Kid
simply the worst patient you can ever imagine <3
when falling sick, he goes through the five stages of grief several times a day
denial: „i am not sick, what the fuck are you talking about“, he asks with a runny nose and face almost as bright red as his hair, beads of sweat running down his temples, barely able to stand up straight
Killer and you just exchange a look and brace yourself for what‘s coming next
anger: ever saw a tulip explode? now you will
don‘t mind the claw marks on the ground when Killer drags Kid by one leg to bed while the captain combusts and grunts out curses you‘ve never heard before
lots of shouting and yelling and middle fingers being raised with the last bit of energy he has left before you watch Killer pull out some wrestling moves to get the tulip into bed. it‘s like watching two grizzlies fight
feel free to join but be prepared to get bitten in the ass
bargaining: so Kid is in bed, blanket pulled up to his nose, breathing heavily
it‘s when it all sinks in. the realization that maybe he should have covered up those honkers when visiting that winter island. Kid was a South Blue child after all, not used to the cold
don‘t disturb him during that phase, just enjoy the silence while he ponders on every life choice he made that led him here
depression: that‘s when he will call you and the other crew members into his cabin one by one despite you telling him he‘ll just spread his germs that way, but Kid doesn‘t care. he feels like he‘s dying from that common cold and he needs to tell everyone his last words
don‘t flinch when he clutches his metal fist around your hand and rattles something about how he doesn‘t mind when you fall in love again after he dies, but preferably with Killer because then he‘ll know from heaven (or hell) that you‘re in good hands (followed by an hour long monologue on why Killer is the greatest man ever existing)
acceptance: so Kid realized he might not die today but his throat is still sore and all the yelling probably didn‘t make it any better
bring him some tea, tuck him in and kiss his forehead, he‘ll pass out in a minute and the whole thing will repeat a few more times on his way to recovery
Kid is gonna act like none of this has happened once he is back to his old self but he‘ll still make sure to pull you into a hug and mumble a Thank You against your skin, followed by making up for all the kisses he couldn‘t give you during that time
Mihawk
have you ever tried giving your pet any kind of medicine? it was bad, wasn‘t it? then good luck with this man because he is worse
it‘s hard to imagine that someone as perfect as Mihawk could fall sick with a fever, but here you are, standing with a glass of water and painkillers in your hands next to him while he‘s passed out on the couch
„get those away from me“, he mumbles like a dying peasant who is confronted with his own mortality in the face of a common cold 
even with his strength being robbed he is still much stronger than you, using this fact to his advantage (by rolling over flat on his stomach, face down, so you can‘t hold the glass of water against his lips)
give him five minutes for some frustrated groaning until he admits his defeat and finally reaches for the things in your hands
brace yourself for a silent staring duel when he asks for a glass of red wine to wash down the painkillers
he‘s lucky that you‘re in love so madly and deeply with him and have all the patience in the world to bear with him, knowing well he would pamper you too if you ever fell sick (you remembered how he pulled out a whole first aid kit as if he was ready to perform emergency surgery when you cut your finger slightly once while cooking together)
Mihawk would hate the fact that you see him in such a weak state but deep down he is still happy to have you by his side during his darkest hours
he‘ll have a few fever dreams and will be startled, probably panting something about his crops and how he gotta look after them
just gently push him back down by his shoulders and calm him down by telling him that you watered the garden and that the tomatoes are looking plump and ripe and ready for harvesting once he‘s back to full health
he‘ll ask you to read him from his favorite romance novels before he drifts back to sleep
Mihawk will cook you the fanciest dinner to show you his gratitude for nursing him back to health, including the most expensive bottle of red wine and kitchen dances together
Rayleigh
„you‘re burning up, Ray.“
you look at him worried, hands on his cheek and forehead to feel his temperature
Rayleigh just sighs, pushes his glasses up his hair, pinches the bridge of his nose and accepts his defeat
the Dark King knows that there‘s a limit on how much you can push a sick body and that the only cure is rest
after all, he had watched Roger struggle during his illness when no one else was watching; it made him realize that every action has its toll and us humans are fragile little things
he will do his best to not make you worry, after everything he‘s been through at his age a simple cold won‘t take him out
sure, he will try to send you home so he doesn‘t pass on the fever to you, but you insist on staying by his side — after all it was „in sickness and in health“ what you vowed to
a fact that earns you a lot of forehead kisses and the inevitable fate that you‘ll be down with a fever as well a few days later (where Rayleigh will take care of you as well, of course)
he is an easy patient on his best behaviour, drinking up the tea you brewed for him and staying in bed with the newspaper and some card games (since he can‘t go gambling)
Rayleigh will hum and lean deep into your touch when you run him a bath and wash his hair, your fingers massaging every bit of tension out of him
knowing you can‘t resist his charm he‘ll ask you to join him in the bath tub. just do it. the old man is needy and a little cold won‘t stop him from using his hands to return a little favor…
Rayleigh is a restless man, never one for settling down completely or staying in one place for too long, but those days in bed together are surprisingly nice and help him to recover quickly, thanks to your committed care
countless kisses on your skin show you his gratitude and blur the line between heat and fever…
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lonelym00n · 11 months
Text
The Road to Recovery
An epilogue for The Devil Likes the Pirate Series
Tara Carpenter x Reader
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Word Count: 3.2k
Summary: Is it worth the effort to repair your relationships, or should you just let your friends go?
Warnings: Talk about injuries, nothing super gory
A/N: The epilogue is here (finally)! I hope it wraps up the series nicely. Thank you all so much for reading <3
The road to recovery, as it’s often said to be, is going to be a long one. You are confined to your hospital bed for a minimum of two weeks, set to undergo observation and a multitude of x-rays until your body has recovered enough for a laparoscopy to ensure that your wounded organs have properly healed. 
You internally groan when the nurse informs you of your long stay. The next two weeks are going to be extremely boring, especially because you've been instructed not to move unless you’re being visited by your physical therapist or it is absolutely necessary to do so.
If it’s not bad enough that you can’t move, as with every other hospital, your only form of entertainment is watching the crappy TV shows provided by the hospital’s very limited cable subscription. 
As much as you want to grumble and complain, all the effort that it’s going to take for you to heal is worth it because it means that you’re still alive. If your traumatic near death experience has taught you anything, it’s that you have to be thankful for life and its hardships even when you are desperately wishing for things to be easier.
In an effort to uplift your mood, you switch on the TV, dig into a cup of jello, and carefully shift into a comfortable position.
***
The two cups of jello that you ate must’ve had the same effects on you as a Thanksgiving feast, because your eyes droop shut during the second episode of Property Brothers. 
It’s darker when you awake, and after blinking away the sleep in your eyes, you notice that you have a visitor.
“Kirby?” 
The FBI Agent turns her head in your direction with a grin, “Hey kid!”
You both take a second to scan the other’s injuries. There’s an array of bandages on her face and you can just barely make out the thick gauze hiding underneath her loose shirt. 
Kirby’s lips curve into a frown at your pale and weak form, “He really did a number on you huh?”
You nod, “But the doctors say I’ll be okay.”
She shuffles over to stand right beside your bed, “I’m glad.”
There’s so much you want to say to Kirby that it takes a good few moments to gather your thoughts together. Ever since Tara told you that Kirby had survived, you haven’t stopped thinking about how grateful you are for the older woman. She trusted you when no one else did. 
“Kirby, I- I really can’t even begin to say how much I appreciate you having my back. I don’t think I would be here if it weren’t for you.”
She shakes her head, “I only did what was right, no need to thank me.”
Tears prick your eyes, “But I do need to thank you. You didn’t even know me but you were still there for me. None of my friends can say the same.”
Kirby sighs and gently grabs your hand. “I’m sorry. Have you talked to any of them about it yet?”
A shakily exhale leaves your chest. Though you’d seen Tara a few times, the two of you still hadn’t talked things through. You were terrified that it would break the honeymoon phase you and she were living in if you approached the topic, so you refused to bring it up. You knew from Tara that Mindy had been released from the hospital, but the Meeks-Martin girl had still made no effort to come see you. You tried your best not to hold it against her, but deep down it made you even more sad to know she was avoiding you all together.
A few tears trail down your cheeks, “No. Mindy’s treating me like I’m the plague and I’m too scared to talk to Tara about it.”
The agent squeezes your hand in an attempt to bring you comfort. “Mindy will come around, to be honest I’m betting that she just feels really bad. And Tara, well, I’ve heard the way that girl talks about you. It’ll make both of you feel better to talk things through and get that extra weight off your chests.”
“You’re right,” your heart feels heavy in your chest. You’ve been doing your best to avoid thinking about your time spent treated like a suspect, the hurt that it brings you is too overwhelming when coupled with the burning stab wounds littered around your abdomen. But now that it’s been breached, you know your feelings are going to come flying out like the contents of Pandora’s Box. 
“God Kirby, it just hurts so much to think that no one even gave me a chance. There was nothing I could say or do. How am I ever supposed to trust them again when they so clearly didn’t trust me?”
A deep frown stretches across Kirby’s face and she moves to carefully wrap her arms around your shoulders in a hug. “You don’t have to trust them. You don’t owe any of them a single thing.” She pulls back to get a better view of your face, “But, I know you still care about your friends even though they hurt you. Just talk to them, and after that, make them earn your trust back. Your relationships are damaged but with time, they’ll heal.”
“Okay,” you nod and lean back in the bed. “That sounds good, thank you Kirby.”
“Anytime. I’m here for you from here on out kid.”
***
Tara comes by two days later, with yet another bouquet of flowers. She’s accompanied by Sam, the older girl refusing to let Tara leave her side.
Under normal circumstances Tara would throw a fit but since they had almost died just last week, she lets her sister’s behavior slide.
The younger girl greets you with a kiss on the forehead and moves to replace the old flowers with the new ones. Sam offers you a smile and a wave before making her way towards the empty bed next to your own.
You scooch yourself over to make room for Tara on the bed with you. Your abdomen screams at you for the small movements, but feeling Tara’s warmth next to you will more than make up for it.
When she’s finished with the flowers, she slides into your bed. Her hands instantly start sweeping across your form, a new habit she picked up to reassure herself that you were still alive and breathing. You melt into the contact, occasionally humming in content. 
You let yourself enjoy the peace for a moment. It’s nice being cared for by Tara, letting her fiddle with your blankets and your hair as she quietly fusses over you. 
But as much as you want to continue living in this heaven with her, the gnaw of leftover hurt and dejection in your chest has grown incessant since your talk with Kirby. You’ve been avoiding rehashing the nightmarish events with Tara because you’re terrified to lose her again, like you have every other time the two of you have had emotional talks. 
Hesitantly, you grab one of her hands to stop its movement and draw her attention to you. Those big brown eyes of hers immediately look up at you, her long eyelashes fluttering slightly. The sight of her has you nervous and bumbling. Whatever you were going to say to approach the topic is stuck in your throat in favor of admiring her.
She tilts her head cutely and entangles the fingers of her trapped hand in yours. “Is everything okay?”
You close your eyes for a second and take a deep breath. When you reopen them, Tara’s eyes are filled with concern.
You swallow thickly, “We um,” you pause briefly, working up the courage, “We need to talk Tara.”
She freezes for a second but quickly finds herself again, “Okay. Yeah, yeah we can talk.”
Sam slides out of her place on the other bed swiftly. She squeezes Tara's uninjured shoulder as she passes by, “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”
The younger Carpenter nods to her sister in thanks. Sam sees the apprehension in Tara’s eyes and offers the girl a small reassuring smile. 
The tension in the room increases when the door closes behind Sam. You and Tara blink at each other for a few long seconds.
You shift your gaze to your waist and pick at the thin scratchy blanket. When you start worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, Tara reaches up with her free hand to cup your check.
“Hey, it’s okay, you can talk to me.”
You look up to meet her eyes and see nothing but care and reassurance. It gives you the push you need to open up to her. “Well, I wanted to talk about everything from last week, and uh, how it made me feel.”
Her eyes widen a bit but she nods quickly, “Okay. I’m listening, go ahead.”
“When I saw you in the police station, god I felt so betrayed Tara. I know that since I was the only one who hadn’t stayed over it made me look bad, but no one even gave me a chance to explain myself. I get why you might’ve given them my name, but it still hurt to know it was you because it meant that you didn’t trust me enough to talk to me yourself.”
Her eyes shine with unshed tears and she slowly trails her thumb down your cheek, “I’m so sorry, about that and about everything. Me and Sam were just so scared and shaken up, and Detective Bailey was asking for everyone’s alibis, and Sam mentioned that you hadn’t stayed over. I tried to tell her not to, but she had to tell him. He was the one who decided to bring you in for questioning, not either of us. I know that doesn’t make anything better, but maybe it helps you to know.”
It did make you feel slightly better. It’s not like she threw him your name and told him to question you. “It does help. When I got to the park, I just felt so judged and alone, like I was some sort of outsider. And then Mindy said all that stuff and it just broke me. It upset me so much that she called me out like that and turned everything I told her in private into a stupid motive.”
The memory of Mindy’s words is particularly painful for you to relive. You’d never felt so exposed and let down. Quietly, a few tears begin to slip down your face.
Tara’s bottom lip trembles with the effort it takes to hold back her own tears, “I hate that we made you feel like that. We’re your friends and that’s never how you should feel around us. And Mindy, god, I was so mad at her for what she said to you. I tried to chase after you when you left but Sam wouldn’t let me.”
The timid look that you give her nearly breaks her heart. “You did?”
A tear escapes her eyes, “Yeah. I didn’t want you to be alone, not when you looked so upset.”
“I was so scared that you were going to hate me, or reject me, and that you thought I was the killer. I had to get away.”
“I could never hate you. And I wouldn’t have rejected you, I really really like you. When I told you I only wanted to be friends, it’s because everything that happened with Amber hurt me so much. I was scared that I could get hurt again, so I pushed my feelings away. And that pushed you away, and I’m so fucking sorry. All the Ghostface stuff happened so fast, and I never got a chance to apologize or to explain myself.”
You’re both crying now. You tug Tara closer to you and she positions herself so her head lays on your shoulder, moving carefully so as not to jostle you or lay on top of any wires.
She looks up at you from her position, “I didn’t think it was you, Y/N. I was just trying to be cautious about trusting anyone. The only person I was sure it wasn’t was Sam. When Wayne had you, I hesitated because of everything Ethan and Quinn were saying. And I was so, so scared that all the Amber stuff was happening again, but I believed what you said. You’re nothing like Amber, you wouldn’t have done something like that. I’m sorry it took me that long to be sure of it.”
You wrap your free arm around her waist and bury your teary face in her hair. You feel infinitely lighter having gotten your feelings out into the open. Part of you has healed from hearing things from her perspective. 
“It makes me feel so much better knowing all of that, thank you Tara.”
“Of course, I’m sorry about how I made you feel.” She looks down at your wrapped abdomen, “And I hate that you got so hurt because of me.”
You tighten your grip on her, “It’s okay.” Then, a bit playfully you add, “And don’t blame yourself, it wasn’t you who stabbed me 17 different times.”
She lifts her head and slaps your shoulder lightly, gasping. “Stop that you know what I mean.”
You laugh heartily and Tara swears she could stay here with you forever. She traces her eyes along your features and finds herself in awe of your soft beauty, as she is everytime she looks at you.
Her hand reaches up to cup your chin and her fingers splay out across your jaw. You’re utterly lovestruck as you stare into her pretty eyes.
She leans forward and gently captures your lips with hers, sighing softly into the kiss. When she pulls back, she smiles sweetly up at you.
“I feel the same way, you know. I really love you too.”
***
Tara, and by extension Sam, visit you practically everyday after that. The younger sister brings her laptop with her so that you three actually have a good selection of movies to watch. 
One night after Tara fell asleep, tucked into your side, Sam offered you an apology too. You forgave her immediately, though she hadn’t really done anything other than be her usual protective self, you appreciate the sentiment all the same.
It’s a quiet day when Mindy finally walks into your room. Sam had to sort out some work stuff, so the two sisters would be heading over a bit later.
“Hey,” she offers shyly. 
“Hi Mindy.”
“Is it okay if I come in and sit?”
“Of course yeah, sit anywhere you like.”
Seeing her here is shocking, but not unwelcome. Tara had informed you that she was trying to convince Mindy to come visit you so that she and you could talk. According to Tara, the short-haired girl was entirely sure that you hated her and would never want to speak to her again.
Mindy shifts around a little and her leg hasn’t stopped bouncing since she’s sat down.
Deciding to reprieve her from her fidgeting, you give her a small smile. “I don’t hate you Mindy.”
Her eyes are wide and they snap up to meet yours, “You don’t?”
“I don’t.”
She breathes out a sigh of relief, but still looks a little apprehensive. “I’m surprised you don’t. I would hate me if I were you.
You had thought long and hard about how you felt about Mindy, and while you were deeply hurt by her words, you could never bring yourself to hate her. You considered her your best friend for a brief moment in time and she was the only person that was there to comfort and support you when you were wallowing in your feelings for Tara.
“I thought about hating you, but I really care about you, Mins. I know that you feel some pressure to follow in your uncle’s footsteps. I just wish that you listened to me, and that you didn’t go so deep on the motive stuff.”
She cringes at the reminder, “I feel, so so stupid about that.” Her hands come up to cover her face for a moment as she groans. “I’m sorry, it was extremely shitty of me.”
“It was pretty shitty of you,” you chuckle, “but it’s okay. I’d probably be more mad if things didn’t end up working out between me and Tara.”
She smiles, “I’m happy for you both.” Her face turns more serious and she leans forward to softly place her hand on your thigh. “Genuinely though, I feel terrible. I was just so sure it was you and I guess it kind of scared me. I’m sorry, I know that’s no excuse. Is there any way I can make it up to you?”
You ponder it for a minute. Bingo. Your face twists into a smirk, “I have an idea.”
***
It’s a few hours later when Sam and Tara arrive. They’re wrapped up in a conversation as they enter, so they don’t notice the current state of your room.
Sam notices first, “What the-”
“Surprise!” you cheer.
Your hospital room has been completely rearranged. The two beds have been pushed together to form a makeshift couch, and the chairs are positioned beside each bed. Fairy lights have been strung around the room and a white sheet hangs across from the sitting area, placed perfectly in the center.
You, Mindy, and Chad (who’d been wheeled in by his sister) grin at the dumbfounded Carpenter sisters.
Sam, ever the mom of the group, raises a singular eyebrow, “What did you three do?”
Your smile stretches even wider. “We’re recreating movie night! Hope you Carpenters don’t mind not hosting for once.”
Sam rolls her eyes good naturedly at your comment. 
Tara walks over and hops up on the bed next to you. You greet her with a kiss to her cheek and she beams at you, pleased. “Baby this is such a nice surprise. But how’d you manage to put all this together?”
You share a secret little glance with Mindy, “I called in a favor from a friend.”
After a good few minutes of cheerful banter, the group settles in to watch the movie. You and Tara are pressed so close together that she’s practically sitting on your lap. 
After a week full of misery, things finally feel right. Your wounds are steadily repairing themselves and your relationships have been mended. Slowly but surely, you are healing.
Tara, the girl who started it all, who stole your heart away with her teasing smiles alone, leans over to whisper in your ear, “When you’re finally out of this hospital, I’m taking you on a date. Just me and you.”
Your eyes shine with the same love that you see reflected in hers. “I’d love nothing more.”
“It’s a date.” She kisses you chastly and quickly pulls back. Her hand reaches towards your face and when she boops your nose softly, you know you’ll be in love with Tara Carpenter for the rest of your life.
Taglist: @thenextdawn @dreifhraniquo29 @fanboy7794 @thelonewriter247 @cartierdreamx @btay3115 @friedryes @bananasplits-world @alexkolax @ordelixx @adaydreamaway08 @youralphawolf72
Note: The last installment for the series will be the alternate ending, which I hope to have finished by the end of this week. I won't be including the series taglist, so leave a comment or send in an ask if you want to be tagged in the alternate ending! Thanks for reading, the angst awaits!
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avocadoguru · 1 year
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He was staring at her in a way no one had in her entire life. She couldn’t read anything in his eyes - not surprise, not fear, not malicious intent - nothing. (wolfrry, werewolf!harry, alpha!harry, ranger!y/n)
Lupus Noctis- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings
Chapter 1 (word count: 4.1k) / alternatively, read on wattpad
“Ready to head out for patrol?”
Y/N looked up at her colleague before switching off her laptop for the day “Yeah, let’s go. Finished for the day, anyway.”
“Good. Eager to get home early, I never sleep well on a full moon, I’ll just toss and turn the whole night, least I can do is try and turn in early.”
“Really? Thought that was just a myth or something. Just close the curtains.”
Nick shrugged as he locked up the station behind them “It’s not that, it’s not even shining directly through my window. For the longest time, I didn’t even make the connection until an ex of mine figured out I could never sleep through full moons.”
“So then why aren’t you the one on watch duty tonight?”
He furrowed his brows at her as they started going down the trail they usually took when they started their nightly patrol “What, like you don’t sleep while you’re on watch duty?”
“I do, but the bed in there is awful. So it’s not a good sleep anyway. You could’ve taken one for the team.”
“I mean, I’ve been stationed here long before you came along, so I did actually spend quite a few full moons while on watch duty, thank you very much. It’s guaranteed no sleep. At least at home I maybe get 2-3 hours in.”
“Awh you poor man, you,” Y/N teased as they ascended an area of the trail where it became steep.
“Right? Speaking of. You’ve been here almost 2 months now. How are you liking it so far?”
“It’s… definitely not what I was expecting. But in a good way, I think. The only thing that I’m most phased by is how secluded this place seems most of the time when it’s not even that far outside town. I was expecting a bit more… action?”
Nick laughed lightly “Action? Like what?”
“I dunno. More wildlife interaction, for one.” 
“God, Y/N. You’re such a rookie” he snickered. “You’ll get your fair share of wildlife, don’t you worry.”
Y/N wouldn’t call herself a rookie in general. Maybe for this particular job, but she was confident in her skills. A trained survivalist and ranger. She could identify species of birds, reptiles, mammals, and plants from sight alone. She knew how to build a fire, climb a tree, make a shelter from only what the forest could provide, and forage for food. She could do it all, despite being a newbie to the team. She felt like she was probably even more skilled than Nick. But as much confidence as she had in herself, she knew the forest, mountains, and wildlife were due respect. Especially during the night.
“I mean, don’t you find it odd that the bears are so few around here? Like ok… boars and rabbits and what have you, but where are all the bears? I’m convinced they’re hidden somewhere in the deeper parts of the forest.” 
“Haven’t you patrolled deeper in? With Karl, maybe?” Nick asked with brows raised.
“No, I have, but we hardly saw anything exciting. You can’t really believe we only got the 3 bears we’ve spotted this year around here. I mean, the place is massive,” Y/N's breath was slightly labored as they continued along the steep path, "The highest points are so difficult to access, the few times we actually get up there can’t really give us that great of an insight.”
“Bears are nosey. They’d have come down to explore way more had they really been cooped up high up there. I know it’s odd, but there’s just not that many. I’m sure there’s more than the 3 we’ve inventoried, definitely. But I wouldn’t expect many more deeper in.”
“What does Karl think? He’s not much of a talker.”
In all honesty, Y/N preferred patrolling with any other of their colleagues. She wasn’t big on small talk, which Nick seemed to have a penchant for. She much rathered be vigilant and actually do her job whilst patrolling instead of listening to his mindless chit-chat. Or maybe it just irked her ‘cause she had a feeling he had a thing for her and was worried he’d try more one day.
“He’s on the same page. He’s been here the longest and has seen most of this forest, but it’s always been like this. I’d say we’re lucky not to be handling that many bears. Maybe look for excitement outside of work.”
Y/N let that comment at the end slide. She got the vibe that Nick might have been trying to flirt with her once or twice but she wasn’t about to entertain any workplace romance. Especially not with him, since that would definitely not amount to much excitement if she was being honest.
“Maybe if we were stationed at the highest point we’d have a better understanding of what really goes on in the deepest parts…”
“Yeah, no. You’ll see once we hit winter, there’s no way to make it to the top, no SUVs or ATVs are gonna get you there unless we hiked up there and stationed for longer periods of time. And that’s definitely not in the job description for me, I didn’t sign up for ranger life full time.”
“Suppose you’re right… It’s a difficult climb even when dry. I don’t think I could’ve driven the 4x4 on my own up there. Karl definitely knows the trail like the back of his hand and we got stuck a few times anyway – what was that?” 
“What was what?”
“Didn’t you hear that?”
They both perked their ears up and listened intently but there was nothing to be heard except for the usual forest noises. “Sounded like a wounded pup.”
They kept on listening for a while and then slowly resumed their trek, “Well if it was a pup, you know what that means. Where there’s a pup, there’s a she-wolf guarding it with her life. Honestly, I’d have much rathered had more bears on our hands than all these wolves.”
“At least they keep their distance, not as nosey as bears are, as you put it.”
“Unless you get in their way,” Nick cautioned.
Y/N knew the story, knew who she'd replaced when she got this job, and what had happened to him. Safe to say, she didn’t want to stumble upon any wolves while patrolling on foot. Whenever they were inventorying fauna they would take their jeeps for a reason.
“But the pup sounded like it was hurting…”
“Virtually impossible. They’d never let a pup stray from the pack. You’re just not used to hearing them up close. It’s deceiving, even the young are quite feral. And never by themselves.”
Y/N was not convinced, she knew what she’d heard, but then why wasn’t the pup crying out again? Maybe she’d imagined things. And Nick was definitely right about not going near a wolf pup.
After finishing doing their nightly rounds, Nick got in his car and drove away, leaving Y/N to peace and quiet. 
She filled her water bottle and turned the radio on. The radio station Y/N usually listened to began crackling and the fuzzy noise was more annoying than silence, so she turned it off. She wondered if the moon was affecting the equipment at all. Normally she had no issues listening to the station. It was one of the few that typically came in crystal clear. She shrugged as she sipped her water.
The night shift wasn’t all that bad. It could be a little creepy. The dark, dark night, the noises coming from the forest, the chill in the air, the silence inside the station… She tried to ignore the strange feeling she had in her chest. Something felt off. Perhaps it was because it was her first night shift during a full moon. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps it was just that she couldn’t listen to a little bit of music while she did her paperwork. The music made things feel lighter.
The tiny station wasn’t anything special, but it did have some very high-tech equipment, medical-grade kits, room for a bed, a table, a bathroom, a desk, and an entry area for any wandering humans. The daytimes are for people. During the day shift, she was used to encountering a person here and there. People would occasionally come into the station with a question during daylight hours. But at night, it was animals. They’d usually run off before she could spot them. She’d hear them, she’d take notes and infrared pictures, and use the data to compile for inventorying and informational purposes.
Finishing half of her bottle of water, Y/N locked up the room with the computer and turned the sign on the window to the station so it read ring bell for help just in case anyone were to wander toward the station. After dark, the forest park was closed, except to registered campers, but that didn’t always stop people from finding their way inside anyway.
She was about to settle in with her book when she heard the same wail as before, much fainter this time due to how far away she now was from the place she’d heard it initially. And even then, she registered it would’ve been across a clearing that was most probably amplifying it and making it sound way closer than it actually was. 
Her keys in her hands, she debated what to do. What if it was hurt? It sounded like it was hurt. After all, part of her job as a ranger was to ensure the wildlife’s safety, and poachers were unfortunately hard to keep at bay. 
It didn’t necessarily have to be a wolf. There were all sorts of pups that sounded about the same at an early age. Could’ve very well been a stray dog even, not unheard of, and actually much more probable to roam on its own than a wolf. Maybe it was attacked by a wolf and left to suffer, maybe it wasn’t poachers at all. Maybe, maybe, maybe. The possibilities were endless.
She thought to call Nick back in, after all, how far could he have gone? But she felt a sense of urgency taking over her, well, if worse came to worst - she was armed and knew her way around the woods.
Wolves travel in packs. There’s no way there was just this one pup and maybe its mother - no, she’d have heard them from afar. And especially with the full moon, they were bound to be vocal. 
Just to be safe though, she took the Jeep. Making sure to keep a low profile - after all, the moon was up and was definitely aiding her way around the forest without having to turn on the headlights - she knew the general direction she was going in, but couldn’t help but wish the pup would make some noise so that she’d be able to locate it more easily. 
She kept her window down and her engine revving to a minimum as she made her way as close to the clearing as possible. She’d have to go on foot soon, but she would leave the car close enough to make a run for it if needed. 
The cracking of twigs underfoot and the bright moon rising above made her feel grounded. The moon gave her a sense of direction, while the dried twigs let her know she was stepping on solid ground. Though it was only visible when the curtain of leaves opened every ten feet or so, it was the moon that would help guide her back toward the path.
Y/N stopped and closed her eyes. She wanted to hear it again, the noise that she’d heard earlier. It could have been a wolf. It was very likely a wolf or stray dog. But she wanted to hear it once more and then she’d turn back, she promised herself. With her eyes closed and the sounds of the wind blowing through the brush and the tree limbs, the scent of pine and wood all around, she felt calm. These moments were the ones she considered a perk of the job. Being in nature, still, and quiet with a cry of an owl or a small peep of a fox.
She sighed and opened her eyes. Her heart rate had calmed considerably. The silence of the moment (though not without the noises of nature all around) had made her feel peaceful. Y/N shook her head and laughed at herself. She was silly to wander off the path in this off-limits zone. It was dangerous at night. It was time to head back to the trail.
And there it was again! The whimpering of the pup, but this time around, she could also hear muttering. Human muttering. Poachers, then. Just her luck. She knew she had no choice but to call in reinforcement in this case - there was no way she was gonna arrest people on her own, even if by some miracle there was only one person, which was never the case anyway. She went for her walkie-talkie and then fumbled for her phone instead, realizing yet again she was alone at the station for the night. Nick was gonna have to make that u-turn after all.
But just when she was about to make the phone call, she stumbled upon a very peculiar scene. 
There was just one man - oddly enough, probably an amateur since he didn’t know this was definitely not a one-man job, and he was holding the pup close to him, while he was kneeling on the ground in front of it. 
She couldn’t tell the exact breed of the pup. She was too far away and it was too young to tell, but the man was the one she was casting all her attention upon now. He seemed to be in some sort of physical pain, he was contorting and grunting, which was what was making the pup whimper. It didn’t seem to fear the man, but it was clearly compassionate to his suffering. 
Still - what the hell was this man doing? Had the pup been the one to cause him harm, he’d have hurt it by now, she’d seen her fair share of human cruelty. But the pup was not budging. Also, the man was speaking to it, whatever he was muttering was more than just grunts of pain - he was actually speaking to the animal.
She took in the appearance of the man, or at least as little as she could make out of him from a distance. He had long hair, he was definitely a tall person, even knelt on the ground, she could tell. His appearance was overall very… unique. Certainly not your average Joe the poacher. 
An idea came to her that made her grasp her rifle more tightly than before. What if he was some sort of hippie weirdo, some sort of witchcraft enthusiast that was looking to perform some sacrifice on the pup? With the way his body was contorting, and the chants he was seemingly performing, his overall appearance, the dark clothes, the long hair - it all added up. He was gonna sacrifice the pup for some pagan ritual and she wasn’t about to sit there and watch him take out a knife or something right before her eyes, hurting the pup before she could intervene!
“Stop right there!” 
The man’s eyes darted toward her immediately and she could’ve sworn they shined a bright yellow hue when they made eye contact. Clearly, her imagination was running wild with this whole pagan ritual scenario she’d been envisioning just earlier because the closer she got the more the man looked as normal as any.
Well. Maybe that wasn’t quite the right way to describe him. Aiming the rifle at him and advancing slowly, she couldn’t help but take in his appearance more closely. His eyes were in fact piercing, but they were a very light shade of bright green. His complexion seemed quite ghostly but that was surely due to the intensity of the moonlight that was shining brightly upon them in the clearing. His hair was unlike anything she’d ever seen on a man before. Long, silky curls, reaching slightly over his shoulders, it appeared to be wild and soft at the same time. She couldn’t make up her mind, because his mouth kept catching her eye the most, his large mouth with luscious, almost feminine lips that shone temptingly in the moonlight along with his irises. She had to stop inspecting his appearance as soon as her eyes landed on his cross pendant that hung low on his torso, his shirt open to his ribcage. She’d gotten close enough, and also, she was getting distracted.
Yes. He was unusual looking for sure. She was probably not far off in her assumptions since there was an eerie vibe to him, but what really confirmed it was the intensity of his stare.
He was staring at her in a way no one had in her entire life. She couldn’t read anything in his eyes - not surprise, not fear, not malicious intent - nothing. But she felt incredibly vulnerable under his scrutiny. She barely had a chance to glance at the pup, which, at a closer inspection, she still couldn’t quite tell whether it was wolf or not. It was weird how it just stood there next to the man, though. Like it was his pet he’d trained for years and years, and the pup couldn’t have been more than 7 maybe 8 months old judging by its build. 
The man was still panting heavily, his jaw slightly set, but whatever was happening to him before - pain or him performing a chant or whatever it was - had seized. She made sure her demeanor and voice were unwavering “What are you doing with this animal here? Are you aware you are trespassing in a prohibited area?”
“Officer. I was not aware. I’ll be out of your hair, and back on the trail.”
“Stay put.” she gestured with her rifle, discouraging him to get up as he was about to. “Why didn’t you log into the station if you were going to camp overnight? You are violating a number of laws here, sir. Is this animal yours?”
She tried her level best to read him, but his eyes weren’t giving away anything. It was like looking at a psychopath, oddly enough, that was the only comparison that came to her mind. She’d never seen anything like it.
“I wasn’t planning on camping… the pup is my pet. He wandered off a while ago and I’d been looking for him ever since. Now that I’ve found him, we’ll be leaving.”
“Sir, I will not warn you again. You are to stay put until I give you clear instructions otherwise.” She looked at him some more, scanning him head to toe as best she could. He was wearing chelsea boots. Heeled chelsea boots. Velour, heeled chelsea boots… to go for a hike? “Did you drive here?”
“Yes, my vehicle is parked at the southeast entrance into the forest.”
“That’s the furthest exit. A long trek over here, at least a 9-hour walk. You’re telling me you made it all the way over here dressed in those?” she pointed her rifle to his boots and for the first time she saw a hint of a reaction on his face, if only for a split second.
A smirk.
The man had smirked. 
Was this entertaining to him? 
“I stopped for a quick walk, just to get some fresh air. I wasn’t planning on spending the whole day here. My pet wandering off left me no choice, I’m afraid.”
“What’s the dog’s name? Why isn’t it collared? What breed is it?”
The man looked over to the pup who was just standing there dumbly. This was the oddest dog she’d ever seen. If she didn’t know any better she could’ve sworn he’d placed some spell on it to stand so still - she’d never seen a dog behaving like this in her whole life.
“I don’t know. Haven’t had him long.”
“Sir, have you stolen this dog?”
There it was again, that smirk, only this time, it seemed like he was doing it with his eyes somehow. They sparkled with mischief. “No.”
“Do you have any means to prove this is, in fact, your pet?”
“He obeys me.”
Y/N whistled and tried to make the pup come to her, but it didn’t even budge. 
“I’m his owner.” the man reiterated.
“I’ll have to take it in until you can make proof of ownership, I’m afraid.”
“You’ll do no such thing.”
Y/N scoffed “Sir, you are in no position of bargaining. Let me see some ID.”
“I don’t have any on me.”
Y/N pondered the situation. Did she really want to take him into the station? She wasn’t prepared for that, she didn’t call in for reinforcement as per protocol, and she would’ve just gotten herself into unnecessary trouble. She could easily just take the pup - the sweet little thing was obedient and well-behaved, check its chip to see if it was in fact stolen, and have the man bring in proof the next day. Yeah. That sounded a lot more reasonable.
“I’m taking the pup into the station until you make proof of ownership tomorrow. You’re lucky I’m not fining you for trespassing.” She unclasped a key from her keychain and threw it at him, he didn’t budge to catch it so it hit him square in the chest “That’s for the tourist cabin down west from here, it’s a 5-minute walk. You can’t miss it. Stay on the path, and don’t try and take any shortcuts. This area isn’t tourist friendly. This is why you should log in at the station when you plan on camping. Make sure to check for snakes, otherwise, it should make do to get you through the night,” she also threw a flashlight in his direction. “Use that.” She whistled again, trying to get the pup’s attention “Come here, boy, c’mon.”
The pup wasn’t budging, if anything it began whimpering. The man looked at it and without having to say a word, it unglued itself from him and made its way toward her reluctantly.
This man was definitely into some dark magic at the very least. The whole thing sent shivers down her spine. It was as though he had the dog hypnotized or something.
She tied a makeshift lead around the pup’s neck and secured it to her belt, as best she could while still aiming the rifle at the strange man. “You may get up now.”
He didn’t even bother picking up the keys and the flashlight in doing so. He stood at an impressive height, even taller than she’d originally assumed. He was clearly concealing his displeasure with the way he had to give up the dog, that perpetual scowl on his face was the only thing trading any kind of emotion, though she suspected that was his default expression.
“I expect you tomorrow at the station with proof of ownership. If you don’t show up it’s considered a federal offense. Am I understood?”
“Understood, officer.”
She nodded and lowered her rifle for the first time since coming upon him. “Be safe.” 
She waited for him to start towards the cabin, but he was just standing there, staring at her. “It’s that way,” she gestured the rifle in the direction she’d indicated earlier.
He reluctantly took a step back, and then another, and then turned and disappeared into the woods. It was as if he’d never been there.
She looked down at the puppy who was seemingly distressed, looking after its owner “It’s alright, boy. You’re safe,” she whispered at it and then tugged on the lead to make their way back towards the jeep. 
It wasn’t until she got inside and secured the pup in the crate she had in the back that she realized the man hadn’t picked up the key and the flashlight from the ground.
Oh well. His problem. She’d done her duty.
The drive back was much shorter now that she could use the headlights and not worry about being as silent as possible. Just as she was about to unlock the station though, she heard a wolf howling. She’d not heard one as close in the whole 2 months she’d been stationed there. It made all her hair stand up on her body.
The last thing she expected was for the sweet little pup by her side to start howling in return. 
“Guess you’re not exactly a dog, are you, boy?”
She knew it. That man was not its owner. And whatever hold he’d had on the pup was not exactly human either.
Chapter 2
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uchihaharlot · 3 months
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Hey there! Love your work and if you're still doing requests, I've got one for ya: a hot, sexy threesome between a female reader, Itachi (loooove him) and Shisui. I'm imagining a competition angle where they've both been pining after the same girl for a while and she likes them both too, but can't choose (and I mean, who could, right? Lol). Eventually, someone (probably Shisui based on my own interpretations of his personality) decides that choosing sucks and sharing is caring, leading to super hot sex 🔥
Ooooo deary,
You speak right to my soul. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fantasized being the center of an Uchiha pissing contest. I’ve always felt that love is kind; love is free and love is patient.I’m hikjackjng your request a bit, I’ve had a draft for several months. There is no real competition here, but extremely hot solicited sex and yes. You are correct, Shisui is one hundred percent the purveyor of pleasure.
It will be soo worth it though; there is a second part to this — written by @shisuis-left-nipple, my draft is also beta’d by her as well — thank you my little Shisui harlot. I dream nothing more of being an Uchiha sandwich on a daily basis.
I’ll forefront this by saying there is mentioning of Shiita. Nothing overtly intimate between the two, but it’s undeniably there and at the back burner. Though you are the main focus of this event, I do apologize to the people who haven’t eaten the forbidden fruit.
NSFW; all out Uchiha fuckfest; overstimulation; multiple climaxes; fucked stupid; mild Shiita.
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Yea I thought about this for a while. How did you even get in this situation? Probably met at the spring festival and all.
Since, in my au head canon, they foiled the coup. Shisui lives, Itachi rules the coop. Feel free to ask me about exactly what happened — there is so, so much in my one brain cell.
Itachi is now clan leader these days. Shisui is his right-hand man. They've grown out of that phase of just the two of them. I know it's not everyone's cup, but they definitely fucked and now that they're adults and have clan responsibilities, growing out of that phase.… though sometimes they share a girl here or there.
So, here you are at the festival. Looking so gorgeous it's damn near criminal. The spring festival is held in the Uchiha district this year — Shisui called it reclamation day. As part of the planning committee sent by the Godaime, you get to enjoy all the hard work you put into decorating their little corner of the world and Shisui is grateful.
I mean really grateful, his cock thanks you too. Your guys’ budding romance starts out slow.… lol, ya whatever that means in Shisui’s head.
Shisui is the extrovert while Itachi is still a bit shy and reserved. (This might get confusing because Izumi obviously hadn't died, but let's just say well.... I think most of the Uchiha believe in free love. At least the younger progressive ones. It keeps the curse of hatred at bay and sex is free. Love is kind).
Who in their right mind wasn't fucking one another in that gorgeous clan of men?
Everyone was.
This event really turned out, ‘the Uchiha are eternally indebted to you for your hard work' says Shisui. He's the charmer — the concierge of bedroom antics. The proprietor for drawing the women into the sheets.
It doesn't take Shisui long to make fucking shit out of you a habit, upheaving your feels and all. Just casually, no big deal. Starts asking questions after a hot session, of course he came to you during lunch. When he has a craving, the man is insatiable. You mention a few taboo things, maybe binding, nothing too extravagant or out of the ordinary. But he is calculating — ever the entrepreneur, ‘how can I give this girl the most beautiful experience of her life?’ He thinks.
Shisui drops the threesome paper bomb in your lap and you’re like — ‘uhhh….yea, sure. Why not but, with…who?’
‘Well Itachi, of course.’ Just so damn casual like it was a regular Tuesday and he hadn’t spent the last half hour rearranging your guts.
Cue blank screen syndrome, ‘what?’ As if waiting for the room to read itself, ‘is this….something you guys do….regularly?’
‘Yea, sometimes. Just so happened to tell him about this woman who has me in a chokehold. Stealing my soul and that her beauty makes the sun ashamed to shine.’ That sort of Casanova type shit, sick as cancer. Shisui was undoubtedly winning this match.
It serves your desire on a silver kunai. The wet mixture the two of you had created rehydrates and Shisui takes the opportunity to fuck you again, slower — deeper. Asking if you’re interested mid stroke, whispering filth in your ear as you start to come undone. Sexual coercion at its finest. You’re so aroused at the thought of this situation you come hard when he mentions some quip about being a double stuffed bento box.
The good, good Itachi is so prim and proper. He hosts a mini dinner, and you’re sort of sweating, uncertainty beckons you. What the hell is going on here…..it’s mildly unsettling at first, but Itachi refuses to fuck a woman he doesn’t know a little bit about. You all three enjoy Itachi’s over the top meal and the conversation flows. The awkwardness melts away and it isn’t long before Shisui takes off leaving you two alone.
Itachi takes you out to sit on the enagwa for tea. He is such a gentleman to consider you this way. While Shisui preps their sanctum, Itachi’s lips make his first impression, and boy it's hot. Not that Shisui wasn’t the connoisseur of making out himself, but Itachi’s kiss is gentle — light. Soft as petals that feather and cradle yours, making you embarrassingly breathless almost immediately. He wants to make sure you're comfortable with this whole situation and Shisui always finds his chivalry adorable, but you can't talk Itachi out of it. He has to do this. It sets the mood and also lowers any preemptive warnings that you might have, since this is already a new thing for you, there won't be any silly toys. Just pure unadulterated pleasure and free love. Once you spend about a half hour lip locked with Itachi, he's going to lead you around the house. Takes you to a room on the back side that’s dimly lit. Starts kissing you in the room behind closed doors when a small gust of wind comes at your back — Shisui. Always one to make an appearance.
Another set of strong hands are at your back. While one wraps around you from the front, the other from the back. Your senses are already in overdrive, Shisui is the impatient one while Itachi likes to draw things out. Shisui hungrily kisses down your neck and Itachi is just swallowing every soft sigh from your lips. Shisui's hands lift at your shirt, and you thought this through. Some cute lacy see through bra that catches Itachi off guard. Has his sights zeroing in, seemingly devouring you through the material.
Shisui wants the bra off, but Itachi has to remind him who the boss is — using that big ‘fuck you’ energy out of nowhere. Shisui just rolls his eyes, a small glint of the sharingan in an exaggerated attempt to look annoyed but not really — fine, so be it. Itachi can have his portion of you but, either way, a candle can burn from both ends if it's double wicked and there is so much of you to explore, top to bottom.
Shisui kisses down your back as it arches, his hands resting on either hip when he crouches. Itachi is nipping and rolling your nipples through the lacy bra. He absolutely loves the temptation of it and maybe even stole a glance through red spun pearls for later review — yep just know that they are going to be recording this for their own personal collection. (Let's touch on the sharingan for a second, I truly believe that it's emotionally charged. If something feels good, it's out in the open. Big bad and red, like an eye erection or some shit lol. Spinning wildly absorbing collective imagery to database — consider it similar to how pupils dilate when it sees something it likes).
Shisui's already got your pants down. He's so hard, Itachi's exceedingly hard too but he takes forever, so Shisui just starts undressing him too because what are friends for? Everyone needs a little help from their friends. You couldn't be really sure, but you’re positive that Shisui may or may not have kissed the tip of Itachi's cock and licked the excitement off, but all you really could hear was his laugh.
Your pants are shucked and tossed aside, Shisui's got you lifting each leg over his shoulder, he's buzzing and wants to start making you moan. Itachi is just following along for now as long as Shisui doesn’t touch his portion of you. Suddenly, you’re slightly lifted up. Looking down you see Shisui sitting on the ground, his arms holding you up. That shit eating grin filling his face as he peers up at you. Then Shisui’s face at your sex inhaling and exhaling hot and breathy, you sit on his shoulders while he holds you at your lower back. Itachi laughs at the audacity of that man, but he knows how insatiable Shisui is. He wants you dripping down his face, chest and eventually his cock.
Itachi finally removes your bra. The sensations are tantalizing — you got one that's slow and sweet and the other that's too fast for his own good. Shunshin no Shisui never could live life in the slow lane. So just like his namesake you're already one and now a second orgasm deep on his mouth. Your hands, well you didn't know what to do with them. ltachi guided one to his shoulder and the other to rake in Shisui's hair, which instantaneously made Shisui groan on your sopping mound, his nose rubbing in the cleft of your heat and his tongue rolling over that deliriously sensitive patch of nerve within your sweet seam. Prodding you, drinking you in and leaving you full-mouthed whimpering.
Once you've been properly worked in, Shisui stands, leaving you at his mercy high in the air. You yelp and cling to him, so this was the actual strength of a renowned shinobi. He lays you so gentle and sweet like on the bed. And yes this time, you saw what you saw, Itachi languidly strokes Shisui's cock before your eyes and you're like what in tarnation — but it was hot because Shisui bit his lip and looked at you like James Dean with big puppy dog reds. They would tease one another here and there and it would absolutely fan the flame between your legs.
Shisui goes over the many ways this could go down and you're like...
‘I'm just here for the ride. Two against one, does it really matter what I want?’ And they both laugh; how adorable because yea, you're right. They're doing it the way they want and Shisui grabs a few things. Lube, leg spacers etc. but you're like ‘uuhhh leg spacers??’ That's when you end up on top of him turned around, your back to his chest and your legs hung over his knees.
All for your consideration and comfort, he's not one to take liberties, not yet. You’re spread open like the world's finest charcuterie board. Itachi's eyes populate and spin red. 'Gorgeous.’ Cause you are, not a damn thing wrong with you, especially from this perspective.
Shisui's hot breath is at your neck, kissing you all over. Not an inch of skin that his lips could reach is untouched. Neck, ears, shoulders — nipping the space between your shoulder blades. Really a pleasure king for you.
Itachi, this man, may not look like much to the naked eye, but he's that and more. So much more, kneels between your legs and just devours you. Like a fucking goddamn goddess, his lips make praise to your sopping cunt. That damned nose, rubbing it all up in your clit while his tongue is gently teasing your slick. You've never had someone be so attentive to you, and while you're distracted in pre orgasm build up, Shisui is administering a severe amount of lube to Itachi's hand. A grand distraction to addle your mind a bit more.
You've already left your consciousness in the sixth dimension and your soul in the 9th circle to hell. What's something a little deeper? As you climax for maybe the sixth time now this evening, Itachi's slim fingers prod at your uncharted asshole. Oh dear. You've not ever experienced ass play. This is unfortunate but also exciting. You moan treasonously and can *feel* Shisui smirking as he kisses and nips at your back. One of his hands splayed across your stomach. Pressing as you climax hard. Itachi wasn't rough, but he wasn't sincere about knocking on the back door.
‘My apologies' Itachi says when you chirp a little bit over it. Gentlemanly as he is, he's ravenous now. And you can't really be sure, but there is more squelches and a brief motion outside your visual perception.
Shisui says some shit like, ‘breathe for me baby’ through bated breath and next thing you know. Itachi's lubed up Shisui's lovely fat cock and is attempting to breach your second entrance. Oh, mama Kaguya! You were a bit selfish when it came to relinquishing control and Shisui offers you some advice, 'look at me gorgeous.'
It’s in this moment you fully understood what Shisui meant about being a double stuffed bento box, he's only sunk about four inches of his cock in your ass and it's not entirely unpleasant, but new. Your neck is craned in a searing kiss with Shisui, him rocking his hips gently until you're comfortable. Itachi toying with your clit to acquiesce the intrusion. Only when Itachi’s mouth sucks on your bud does it then feel really good.
The intake of air to your lungs as an entirely different type of roaring climax, in a whole new group of muscles, doesn't seem to fill you with enough air to accommodate the salacious inconsolable loud moan that escapes your lips. Shisui gently pioneering slow purposed full-length thrusts into a hole that was once too tight for two fingers.
After that, all he has to do is sit pretty. Itachi takes over after you have a few more orgasms, like what, 9 or 10 now total? If you tried to count, just give up. You're done physically, mentally and emotionally at this point. You've left your soul in their vision for it to never be returned. Completely dominated and owned.
But they're Uchiha. They know the effect they have on people. Itachi puts his hair up a little tighter in a bun. Such a cutie, he slowly strokes himself watching as Shisui has his round. Then the room goes still, all you can hear is Shisui's heavy breathing in your ear, as he’s had to hold back quite a bit. You're so taut around him, he almost busted a nut and unfortunately for him, the second Itachi stretches your weeping and already swelling cunt, Shisui does cum — poor bastard. But his best friend makes sure to angle his slow strokes downwards so that way he gets a little bit of friction and as a double whammy the mere feeling of Shisui pulsating and coming inside of you is like an intermittent vibrator, so you climax, full force. Resting your head on Shisui’s shoulder, he kisses your cheek as your eyes roll shut, and you babble like a cute idiot.
So here you are, hot sweaty and now gagged on Shisui’s fingers as he shoves them in your mouth. Shisui didn't necessarily go soft, the overstimulation of you pulsing and continually on edge keeps a lovely semi at his disposal. Itachi's got your arms wrapped up and set behind Shisui's head, his lips tease at your nipples. He is the slow and steady sensual man. You moan, Shisui moans. Everyone is moaning, it's a cacophony of gasps and sighs. Itachi's is just enjoying being the one in charge of you both, then Shisui starts hitting you with some katon heated dirty talk.
'Such a good girl.’
‘You're choking my cock so well.’
'Another one already?'
Just hot talk and even a bit of teasing. Since he's like buckled down for the ride now, he just gets to experience all the pleasure without much work, but he does make sure to suck at your neck, leaving a few marks on your back too. He's considering that maybe you're the girl for him. With his best friend's approval of course, this is just like a clan initiation at this point. Itachi would let you marry Shisui if he really hard pressed him enough, but Shisui feels deeply, this type of connection only comes once in a life and out of the myriad of females they've shared (which isn't many to be honest) you're this Pandora's box that has so many different things about you he already loves.
Someone is falling hard.
Itachi is of course enthralled with your breasts, they're perky, beautiful and each nipple is gently switched between his lips, pert and sensitive. Though he would turn up the heat and use a little bit of that Uchiha fire to warm them up, only to change the sensation and make you writhe. Slowly pumping himself into you, calls you ‘princess,’ of all things. So old school, Itachi started out quiet but when Shisui is kissing one side of your neck, Itachi is sucking and nipping at the other. All timed of course; right as you orgasm again. Always some sort of over stimulation going on and — hey wait a minute! When did Shisui start playing with your clit? You don't know and don't care because this next orgasm was the most intense yet.
And you squirted all over Itachi's cock, raining down on Shisui's, he couldn't help but start to move his hips a little. The contrasting thrusts sending you even further spiraling.
'Are you ok y/n?' A playful jab at your wavering consciousness by Shisui in a deep raspy whisper. You're catatonic.
An Uchiha flesh-light now. Thank the gods you're on the pill. Just the smell of their musk, power of the gods and that smokey katon heat would one hundred percent have you ending up pregnant and Itachi has big people issues right now, he can't have a kid just yet. You might even just become the wife to both of them. Though Shisui is greedy, possessive with what's his. Itachi has Izumi, but that doesn't mean you couldn’t take part in their secret swingers group.
Here you lie between them, filled up tight to the brim. Shisui has definitely cum at minimum three times, his seed seeping out your little bottom hole. Itachi isn't really that much into multiple, he enjoys perpetually edging the hell out of himself and right when he is about to cum, he slips out. Let's Shisui pound you a few good times and thank gods you have a clean booty hole. Itachi slips him out of his new claimed territory and by gods, there is that lovely Shisui cock filling your warm worn-out cunt. So thick and creamy with his seed, just slips into your tight seam. Slowly thrusting into you, he peppers kisses down your left cheek as Itachi takes a breather. Whispering how much you mean to him, so precious and his. Somewhere down the blurred vision to keep your eyes focused, Shisui is comfortably situated back as your butt plug. Time has escaped you, it all just cascades quickly.
Itachi lifts both your legs under Shisui’s *arms*, oof. Spreading you further, nearly to your ears. Folded like a lawn chair, a personal favorite to both. Shisui locks his hands over your sternum and holy hell this man is strong. You moan when Itachi slips back into your tired cunt. You're still so snug and wet though, the two of them each swing their hips in tandem; you weren't expecting this. All that heavy breathing, encouragement from Shisui and maybe a few a 'good girl’ from Itachi here or there. You're stretched to the limit. Can feel their cocks rubbing against one another through that thin layer of skin that separates your two channels.
Shisui's the first one to bust… again, lucky guy. He's had about five maybe? And Itachi reams his slender hand around your neck. You're so far spent; incapable of an orgasm, beyond belief overstimulated to the point that you're not sure if it's pleasant or not anymore. But it's hot, Shisui biting your shoulder, Itachi's grip tightens a little. He's a bit perturbed you've reached your limit before he could cum, so yea.
Tsukuyomi induced orgasm for you, honey.
Red spun pearls lull and bend your subconscious, all he says in the echo chamber is 'cum.’ Much to your surprise, you do, several times more. All over him as he deposits the hottest load of baby gravy into your cunt, making sure to fuck it in you. Tapping it against your cervix like it was some sort of keg tap. Just knock knock knock genetic coding at your womb. But he apologizes for getting so aggressive once he drops that mild soporific genjutsu and Shisui is trying to not snicker at your disheveled face.
Now honey, you've had a rough night. Let's talk some after care. Lots more kissing, worshipping your amazing body for all the shit it's just been through. Wrapped up like a cocoon and carried off into the main portion of the house.
What do you want? Tea? A movie? A bath?
You can bathe with both of them. Or alone. Whoever you choose. They are definitely going to make sure you are treated with the utmost care and adoration the Uchiha have to offer.
Do you need your leg muscles rubbed? They did go numb at some point. So, you have your bath, Shisui is there while Itachi makes tea. Shisui is such a gentleman though, washing your back. Asking if you want to wash your special areas yourself, he feels like maybe they just violated you, but you laugh out loud at and kiss him softly. 'I got exactly what I asked for.’
And he smiles the full length of his mouth. Such a handsome guy, the bath is rather quick. Itachi's readied the tea, and you can have your own room for the night, but like... ‘what if we all just cuddled and slept in the same bed.' You speak.
‘Hot damn, yes that too,’ Shisui quips. You're like a loaded canon and he is absolutely pulling the trigger finger on that.
Itachi nods and smiles, ‘ok.’
So, you have your tea, maybe even watch a movie but girl you are dead on your ass. You pass out within the first twenty minutes, Shisui finishes your tea and carries you to bed. Gently stationed between them, you just sleep so peacefully and serene.
Yep, and then when the morning comes, it's breakfast time.
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