#(she had zero reason to assume good anything)
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For @nocompromise-noregrets really (because I pictured this as Thranduil and book/ROP!Elrond having a conversation about Maedhros and Maglor - dialogue snippets
“They loved us more than anything - they cared for us, protected us and they destroyed our world. I remember my naneth hiding us, telling us she loved us, would always love us. Elros was holding a little wooden ship that Adar had made - one of their soldiers killed our nurse and Maglor had him punished. He told us our naneth thought we were dead or she never would have left.”
“Maglor and Maedhros let us hate them but…we loved them and yet how could we not wonder what would happen if we ever did not, after what we had seen. And it seemed Elros and I broke hearts and caused hurt whatever we did.”
#fic#tv: rings of power#i want to be clear i adore M&M and I absolutely believe there was genuine love#but partly because I’m biracial and a trauma survivor I cannot…like it came from so so much loss and violence#(also Elwing Defence Squad For Life)#(she had zero reason to assume good anything)#and the twins were old enough to like remember#and also the sindar-noldorian-feanorian complications#(and the fact is they must have wondered ‘what if we set them off’ because like yeah)#(also thranduil has feelings about Elrond is my headcanon)
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More headcannons about the Starks being doms!!! Pleaseeeee!!!!!!!!!!!
Okay starting off saying, all Stark men are doms, just in different ways. But let's start from the eldest down.
Brandon Stark:
Easily a hard dom. He was short tempered and described as very distinctly as having "wolfs blood". He loved fighting and always kept his sword sharp and with him. I have a distinct theory that he was a power bottom, preferring women on top of him but without actually giving them that control. Probably didn't talk a lot, and when he did was just purposely filthy. He also definitly liked to take things rough, considering Barbrey Dustin says this about him.
"I still remember the look of my maiden’s blood on his cock the night he claimed me. I think Brandon liked the sight as well. A bloody sword is a beautiful thing."
That is some hard dom behavior right there.
Eddard Stark:
If there was a Stark who was closest to a switch then the others, it would be Ned. But I think that is more because Ned is just rather vanilla in comparison. There is zero reason to believe Catelyn likes being in charge in the bedroom, but I also think Ned is far more of a soft dom. Not very talkative, probably more intimate, and he doesn't push Catelyns limits. But he does in fact, go hard.
The man gave her five children, and Catelyn literally implies in the first book that Ned fucked her so hard she was in that afterglow pain only a man who goes rough can give.
"Her loins still ached from the urgency of his lovemaking. It was a good ache."
Submissive men do not fuck so urgently they leave their wife laying in bed sore as fuck from getting pounded. Ned is probably the least kinky of the present Starks, but certainly still a soft dom.
Benjen Stark:
We see he has a very dominant personality, how easily he takes control of a conversation and establishes himself as someone to be listened too, but considering he clearly joined the Nights Watch at an early age, it's safe to say Benjen grew up a man whom was just not involved in sexual encounters.
If he did fuck, he'd likely be more of a soft dom with a side that likes to tease and be playful, but I assume he's either never or had very little sexual encounters to say for sure what he'd be like as one. But in his everyday personality, he certainly commands authority when necessary which is proof of dominance enough for me.
Robb Stark:
If there is the biggest example of a hard dom, it's Robb. This man takes you like a goddamn wolf. Flipping you onto your hands and knees, shoving you further into the furs of his bed, going fast enough you can't catch your breathe and rough enough that you feel him well into the next day. He will yank you up to his chest and purposely mutter depraved shit in your ear, mock you for your pleasure knowing it works you up more when he does it. Calling you derogatory sexual terms in bed to keep you in that subspace (he doesnt say them to hurt your feelings you know its all part of a kind of rougher roleplay essentially).
We've seen him take command in every situation. He knows how to seize control of a conversation even with opponents as difficult as Jaime Lannister. He doesn't falter, knowing he has everything in his favour and is sure of himself. Putting men twice his size like Greatjon Umber in his place but still managing to secure his upmost dedicated loyalty at the same time.
Robb probably the most forgets to be romantic in bed, but he makes up for it any other time. It's just in bed, when Robb is fucking you, he is rough and mean. You both know its with love and you both like it, but he is a true hard dom.
Jon Snow:
If his brother is the definition of a hard dom, Jon is the definition of a soft dom. Jon is incapable of being mean to you, truly being mean. He'll never whisper filth for the sake of it, never try to mock or embarrass you, will never use anything close to something derogatory towards you in what he calls you. Jon is passionate, raw, and very intimate about sex with you, and he needs a lot of both skin to skin contact and he needs to be able to kiss you as much as he wants.
But, he is also very controlling. More then he realizes. Jon is unpredictable in bed, because what he wants varies wildly. Sometimes he takes you slowly, but goes for hours to the point he is still inside you as you pass out, which he keeps going. Sometimes, he is rougher then he even realizes. Jon leaves bruises all the time from how tightly his hands grab at you alone, and he goes rough to the point sometimes you almost are pushed too far, but Jon somehow always ends up making you crave it.
You basically will never choose how the night goes. Jon always controls you in bed, and you let him. It works him up to an endless degree that you so completely trust him with you to the point he basically owns your autonomy in bed. He can convince you to do anything knowing you'd let him, and he won't give you what you want because he knows your needs and limits better then you do.
Jon is soft and loving with you in bed, but he is a dom through and through. Jon alone is the one in total control in the bedroom and he will always keep it that way.
#jon snow#robb stark#brandon stark#eddard stark#ned stark#benjen stark#jon snow x reader#robb stark x reader#jon snow x you#robb stark x you#jon snow imagine#robb stark imagine#game of thrones#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf
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Casanova (Cheating!Sasuke x AFAB!Reader) - iii
CW: MINIMAL EDITING !!! mean!sasuke x AFAB!reader, reader pregnancy, homewrecker!reader, deadbeat dad activities, cheating, piv (unprotected), creampie, spitting/spit play, oral (f receiving) degradation (loser, whore), zero after care, breeder!sasuke, generally scummy behavior, lmk if i missed anything. short chapter lol
18+ MDNI !!!!!!!!!!
Sasuke knew he hated himself, like seriously- hated himself. He hated himself because everytime he came home he was reminded that he destroyed the family he loved so much just because he wanted to fuck you. Sure, the first time was an accident, if anything he helped you the first time! At least that’s what he told himself to be able to sleep at night. But the second time? The second time was pure lust, nothing but dirty lust that had taken over him and made him want to fuck you.
What didn’t help was how he heard people talk about you. How they would gossip about how nice your newly found motherhood was, and how it was sweet you’d decided to have your own little family. He hated that whenever people would ask who the father was you’d dodge the question, a flustered blush overwhelming your face as you clutched your chest.
But probably what Sasuke hated most of all was how the days went by and your belly got bigger, he got hard at just the sight of you. Your skin was always glowing, your breasts bigger, and of course your stomach bigger. He would think about how hot it was that he had gotten you pregnant, showing off how you were his, regardless as to how nobody knew it. In fact, the ignorance of how it was him got him unbelievably horny.
Whenever he would fuck his wife, he would put a hand flat on her stomach, feel the way his cock would bulge underneath, and imagine it was you while caressing where your child would’ve been. Sakura had no idea of course, she was just happy to get dicked down after a strange dry spell. Sasuke silently refused to fuck her, out of shame and pity mostly, but after getting hot and bothered by just the sight of you for weeks mixed with the feeling of sexual frustration he had to let himself go.
After the deed was done, his post but clarity kicked in like no tomorrow.
What am I going to do? How fucked am I?
He thought as he looked to his side and watched as his wife would catch her breath, post orgasm. He shook his head, pulling the covers up to his chest to cover himself up. Sakura rolled over, putting a hand to his covered chest.
“We haven’t done that in quite a while, huh?” she softly laughed, still breathing in and out.
“Yeah,” he smiled, looking away quickly. Sakura furrowed her brow.
“Are you okay?” She asked, sitting up and closer to him.
“Um, yeah… why?”
“It’s just… you’ve been so distant lately, and that’s saying something.” She nudged him and Sasuke made a halfhearted laugh. “You’ve been like this for weeks… if I didn’t know any better I’d assume something…” Sasuke tensed up.
“Assume what?” He bit back, jaw clenched. Sakura was taken aback.
“All I’m saying is ever since that genjutsu user got away you’ve been acting strange. You don’t feel bad about her getting away, do you?” Sakura asked, tone softer.
“She didn’t get away…” Sasuke muttered.
“Huh?”
“Oh, um… Her. Yeah, that’s what it is.” Sasuke replied, rolling over and facing away from Sakura. She giggled.
“Oh Sasuke, you’ve always been so hard on yourself.”
“For good reason…” He sighed, once again the feelings of shame and guilt returned.
“There you go again. Why don’t we just change the subject, hmm?” Sakura asked. Sasuke wanted to vomit when she said your name.
“W-what about her?” he felt the bile building up in his throat.
“Well you know how she’s pregnant right?”
“Yes, yes, of course I know she’s pregnant! What about her?”
“Well she’s coming into the hospital tomorrow for an ultrasound! When I found out I just knew I had to be her doctor so I’m going to be giving her her screening!” Sakura chirped happily.
Without a word Sasuke got out of bed, not facing her the whole time.
“Sorry, I just realized I have to go to the bathroom,” he said, walking out the door.
“Oh okay, we’ll can you bring me a glass of water when you come back?” Sakura called as he was already walking down the hall.
“Yup.” He responded. He locked himself in the bathroom and turned the fan on, then vomited into the toilet before tangling his fingers into his hair and silently crying as his heart beat out his chest.
___________________
You had no idea of course, so nobody could imagine the slurry of emotions erupting inside of you when Sakura walked into the room, clipboard in hand for your check up. You laid back on the examination bed, heart beating out of your chest as she made conversation with you about your baby.
“You can tell me, c’mon! Who’s the father,” she asked, pouring jelly on your belly and spreading it around.
“I can’t…” you frowned.
“Why not?” She asked, turning to the screen and flipping it on.
“It’s cause,” you felt sweat bead on your forehead, you felt sick and had no idea how to tell her this was her husbands child. “It’s cause I had a sperm donor.”
Sakura spun around in the seat and looked at you.
“No kidding! So you’ve really wanted to be a mom that badly?” She asked, moving the small device around on your stomach.
“Um… Yeah I guess so,” you mustered a laugh.
“Didn’t they tell you who the donor was? Y’know if I check your appointment date I can see who’s they gave you-“
“Oh no that’s fine! I didn’t have a preference…” You lied as you both shifted your attention to the screen. “Just wanted it to be healthy…”
Soon enough the fetus was on screen and Sakura gasped with delight.
“Well it seems healthy to me!”
“Um, do you know it’s gender yet?” You asked, shamefully curious.
“Well it’s too early to tell, that’s also why it’s so small.” She pressed a little harder against you, and shifted it around. She pointed at the top of the oblong shape. “There’s the head.”
You smiled as you looked at it, then your face dropped. You felt tears roll down your face and soon enough you were crying. Sakura turned her head to see you.
“I’m sorry…” you cried, wiping your face.
“No no! It’s okay, plenty of mothers cry when they get their ultrasound done it’s completely fine! It’s also all those hormones don’t worry.” She sat closer to you and gave you a small hug, running her hand up and down your back.
You wished she had punched you, kicked you, or even yelled at you, maybe then you wouldn’t feel so bad about being her husbands mistress and baby mother. But instead she was coddling you and telling you it would be alright, which it certainly would not be. Eventually you stopped crying and Sakura grabbed her clipboard and started writing down on it. She tore a piece of paper out and handed it to you.
“It’s a list of some prenatal vitamins, they’ll make you feel better especially when you start to get further into your first trimester.” She was too sweet, and you were so shitty.
_______________________
That night after dinner you heard a knock at your door and when you saw who it was you wished you slammed it immediately.
“Can I come in?” Sasuke asked, looking around nervously.
“Get the fuck in here.” You muttered. He shut the door behind him and locked it. You crossed your arms angrily.
“You know it’s already fucked up as it is that I have to raise your child alone, and now i’m reminded that your wife literally exists. You know she gave my ultrasound?” Sasuke cringed. “Yeah. Didn’t think about giving me a heads up?”
“I can explain-“
“Oh! So you did know?”
“Listen-“
“What the fuck…” you cried, sobbing into your hands and turning away from him.
“So emotional…”
“Fuck you, loser.”
“If i didn’t know your hormones were out of control right now I’d remind you that out of the both of us the real loser might be the one carrying the married man’s child.” Sasuke snapped. You growled low, then with an open palm struck him across the face. He winced, a soft grunt escaping his lips.
“I should kill this damn fetus that you find so fascinating. I hate it. I hate you. Everyday i’m reminded there’s something disgusting growing inside of me that you put there, it makes me sick.” You cried again, ugly sobs ripping their way out through your lungs to bounce around the walls of your home.
“It’s not my fault you were acting like such a whore that day.” Sasuke frowned, his hand running over the red skin on his face.
“If you had killed that genjutsu user we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“You got in the way.” You scoffed.
“Always so pretentious, aren’t you?”
“It’s the truth. I could’ve handled it but no, you just needed to show off.”
“Show off? You’re one to talk. You’re practically showing off to the whole village how you got me knocked up everywhere I go.” Your brows furrowed. Sasuke was silent.
He knew you were right. Maybe he knew it was the pot calling the kettle black, but he was backed into a corner. Something about the word ‘loser’ struck a nerve with him. A deadbeat dad with a distant wife- no fault of anyone else but him. Did he somehow think starting a family with you would be some sort of do-over? something to rid him of his guilt?
When he looked at his wife he saw a beautiful woman, strong and accomplished. But how can you have any room for attraction to someone you have so much guilt for. Guilt for his old days of vengeance and hate, guilt for his job that kept him away from home for years.
But you? You were a fresh face. Beaming with optimism and a subtle hint of indifference that he knew he could change. You had something Sasuke couldn’t quite identify, simply being around you now felt dangerous. Sure, it could be, but it was more than the thrill of danger. You were his whim, his drug, the fever he couldn’t sweat out and being inside of you was the only place he wanted to be every hour of everyday. Maybe you have animosity for him now but could this family save you? more importantly- could it save Sasuke?
You took a deep breath in, shakily letting it go.
“You need to leave…” You were about to walk for the door when a possessive hand grasped your wrist. You froze.
“You don’t understand, I need you.” His voice was almost a whisper, the low growl that it almost produced set a shiver up your spine.
“I…” you started, face flush from his sudden shift. “Please, I can’t deal with you right now. You’re just too confusing.”
Sasuke gripped you brash and pinned you against the nearest wall, mounted frames ratted when you made contact. You gasped, your free hand coming to rest at your belly.
“Sasuke! You can’t just do that! It’s not good for the baby, knock it off,” your face burned hot. Sasuke raised a brow, a small smirk pricking up.
“Oh? So you do care about the well being of our baby, huh?” Bastard. He had you.
He leaned down partially, teasing you with a warm breath against your lips. You fought yourself to not close the gap, your mind racing and your face flaming. Soon enough you gave into your impulses and kissed him passionately.
You both let out an exhale, his soft lips making yours wet with his saliva. He opened his mouth to lick your sweet lips, tracing how plush they were only for his tongue to slip past them and feel along your own. His tongue ran along the smooth underside of yours, then swirled back up to trace your rougher taste buds, leaving his own flavor behind.
He grunted when you tangled your fingers in his hair, digging deep towards his roots and gently yanking when he pressed a growing erection into your swollen core. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck and he carried you to your bedroom, where he laid you down onto the mattress as soon as you both arrived.
Sasuke ripped off your pajama pants then ducked down to the valleys of your flesh, kissing in between your thighs to suck deep hickeys into. You moaned and writhed under his chin, then he made haste to your sensitive pussy, licking hard against your clit. You let out a harsh and untamed cry of pleasure, it almost sounded like you were in pain. But the way you bucked your hips into his mouth and dig deeper into his scalp proved otherwise.
You didn’t realize your body was craving Sasuke for so long until mere seconds later you were cumming on his tongue, hoarse moans and soft whimpers escaped your lips without warning as your juices filled his mouth. Sasuke palmed himself when you flooded into him, he swallowed every drop you could’ve given him and when you were done with your orgasm he didn’t stop devouring you until you were shaking like a leaf.
Sasuke roughly grabbed one of your tits as he stood up, looking down at you through narrowed eyes, you quivered under his gaze.
“Off.” He commanded. You took off your tank top and threw it across the room. Sasuke swooped down to caress your tits in his hand and mouth, biting harshly on your sensitive nipples. You clenched around nothing when he did so, thighs clamping shut around his torso.
He quickly came off of you and he undid his pants, you watched as the waistband of his pants and boxers fell to the floor, his large cock standing straight up against his chiseled abdomen.
There were no words spoken between the two of you. No promises of love, no claims of possession, no gifts exchanged or fancy jewelry to court with, no battles won to impress with, and no acts of tenderness. Only one single thing was present and that was the absolute orgasmic pleasure that came from being impaled be Sasukes cock over and over and over again. He got off watching you bounce from underneath him, your tits giggling every time he bottomed out and his balls smacked against your ass.
Sasuke bit his lip to stutter his moans when you started shaking again. Your climax looked almost like a seizure, more whimpers and cries were let out as you shook, only to be met with more tremors the longer he fucked you, continuing to deliver what practically seemed like pleasure epilepsies.
“F-Fuck! Sasuke, you’re so good…” you mewled, toes curling when he hit that good spot deep inside of you.
His hips didn’t slow their violent pace, his thumb traced along your clit, rubbing tight circles against it with he pad of his finger.
“Yeah…” he grunted, pace getting rougher. “You like this dick, huh? You like it so much you got pregnant from it, little whore.” He smirked, teasing you with long, deep strokes that slowed down to an agonizing pace.
You breathed heavily, heart pounding so loud and fast you were scared you might have a heart attack.
“Fuck- yeah…” you blubbered, hips twisting when you felt him bottom out.
“You’re gonna raise my fucking baby, aren’t you?” Sasuke murmured, his pace intensified and yet again you were crying out again.
“Y-yeah,” you whimpered, legs shaking as Sasuke obliterated your leaky pussy.
“That’s right… you’d do anything for this uchiha dick, wouldn’t you?” He asked with a smirk as he jackhammered you raw with his thick rod.
You neared your orgasm, cunt clenching tight and making Sasuke grunt as he continued to rail you. You nodded, eyes rolling back as your eye brows furrowed. Your mouth fell open and Sasuke took this opportunity to spit into it, you shocked yourself when you swallowed it. Sasuke had a feeling you would but watching you do it made him go crazy and his pace inside of you was excruciating.
“Say you want our baby, say you’re keeping it,” Precum was spilling out of you, it was fully mixed in with your arousal and your ass was drenched from your fluids dripping down.
“I want our baby, Sasuke- I… I’m keeping it I promise…” your face burned, your body surprised you would utter such words to the man who ruined you.
It didn’t matter for much longer since you came hard on his cock, appendages flying all around him to get him even closer to you. He complied and pressed himself deeper into you, almost as if he were fusing into you. his cock twitched when he filled you up with hot cum and you loved hearing his soft moans. you wrapped your legs around him to keep him right inside of you and if it wasn’t for the fact it was sasuke who had led you to this misfortunate spot, you wouldn’t be upset by the state you’re in now.
Eventually Sasuke got off of you and clothed himself. His pants covering his sex, almost as if in a way he was ashamed of where it had got him. Hiding it away from the mess he had made.
“I’ve got to go, I’ve already overstayed my welcome.” Sasuke sighed, he turned around and looked back over his shoulder at you. “Goodnight.”
You were still naked and drenched in sweat and sperm, juices leaking down your legs. It was like he injected you with his own venomous guilt for living, having desire, having your own craving for freedom through your sex. That freedom was gone now, only one of you had to deal with this fuck up. Now this venom was killing you. It was as if the most pleasurable knife was jabbed inside of you and you were bleeding out your emotions.
The sheets were all messed up besides you and as you watched him go you were glad he didn’t offer to tuck you in. A good man would’ve offered, a better would’ve tucked you in without even asking. In a way, it was confirmation he was a shitty lover and maybe even a worse partner. It made you feel better he wouldn’t do such an intimate thing for the fling like this when he has a wife and child at home.
Still shaken, you managed to sit upright, angry and defeated. You knew your body and mouth betrayed you of the freedom you wanted so badly. They reinforced his belief that you wanted to keep this anchor of a weight that was Sasuke Uchihas child. You were furious your body betrayed you and led you down a path of self destruction. You felt cheated, then felt worse when you realized that the only person who should really feel that way was Sakura.
AN: i have been LAGGING !!! i am so sorry gang i'm trying to be better with posting like how i used to but somethings been up idk what is is or when it'll be over but i think i just gotta womp womp my way through it. anyways i'm sorry if i forgot to add you to the tag list just leave a comment and i'll add you to the next part.
tag list: @just-your-emo-sensei @princess-saki1 @mandy-yeager @emmaaas-posts
#smut#naruto#sasuke smut#sasuke x reader#sasuke uchiha smut#sasuke fic#sasuke naruto#sasuke uchiha#sasuke x reader smut#sasuke x you#casanova!sasuke#dark sasuke#naruto fic#naruto smut#sasuke uchiha x you#sasuke uchiha x reader
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I was talking about this in a server but I wanted to put the thoughts here too
I think Zenos being the way he is stems so much from Emet-selch's beliefs that sundered people are lesser. Like it's the generational trauma that made Zenos that way in the sense of Solus' cruelty to Varis led to Varis' cruelty toward Zenos, but I also think that the loss of the ancient world and the contempt Emet-selch holds for humanity is also something he instilled in both Zenos and Varis. The notion that humanity is just inherently corrupt and evil, and that people will always resort to violence and harm toward one another because he's seen so many conflicts and nations that rose and fell over the millennia.
So in his kin, that sentiment is passed on. In Varis' case, he is aware of his grandfather being an ascian and is very much like, "I will be the exception to the rule, I will be the example of mankind standing above the ancients." Except, of course, Varis uses this mentality to justify some of the most horrific atrocities a person could commit, such as mass genocide through black rose, or killing his own family members in the civil war that followed Solus' death. Varis has this notion that he's an example of a "good" human, despite doing all of the terrible things that Emet-selch ascribes to humanity as a whole.
In Zenos' case, he was groomed to be a living weapon and has come out the other side of it with this bleak outlook. If humans are inherently cruel and evil and corrupt, why does anything matter? It made his baseline assume the worst in everyone, including himself, so his apathy is all-encompassing. There is no right or wrong, everyone kills everyone and it's all fucked up, so why bother trying to be "right"? What even are "right" and "wrong" anyway? It allows him to be someone who does horrific things, while searching for some kind of purpose or meaning. I wish we had gotten to see more of Fandaniel and Zenos interacting, because I think they are so similar in the sense of wanting for meaning and purpose but being so disillusioned with the world and with the cruelty of others that they themselves became cruel.
I think long before the "would you be happier had I a good reason?" speech and Alisaie's rebuttal to it, Zenos had this curious little seed embedded in him by his encounters with the warrior of light. It's not unlike how Lyse spends much of 4.0 both hating Fordola, and also being fiercely curious as to why she is the way she is and seeking to understand her. With Lyse though, she is guided by her strong sense of empathy and the notion that all of her people deserve their homeland returned to them regardless of their actions, while Zenos lacks empathy completely and up until now didn't really think about anyone, not even himself. But that curiosity is there, deep down, and I think it is a major driving force in keeping him going forward.
You could argue that Zenos' motivations are selfish: he does say himself that he is chasing the high of battle with a worthy opponent, and I think on some level that is true. But there is something deeper to it, something that really makes him question all he's known: "In that transcendent moment, what was it that I sought in you? And what was it that you sought in me?" He's seeking purpose, he's seeking the reason for what motivates people like the warrior of light to do good, and what "good" even is. It's so contrary to everything he's known, but it grabs hold of him until it becomes an obsession.
I think it's further elaborated on with some of Zero's story arc where she's learning about empathy, although her reasons for being that way are somewhat different from Zenos, I think they are similar on some level in that they can't really understand empathy or inherent goodness. She does eventually learn it, of course, and I'd like to think if given the chance to survive beyond the battle with the Endsinger, that Zenos could have gone on a similar journey too. That's what I envision anyway.
#idk what's the point to this I'm just thinking about him#as always lol#ffxiv#endwalker spoilers#zenos yae galvus
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Hi Lexi, I have an ask 😏
I keep seeing these pranks girlfriends are doing on their boyfriends on TikTok where the girl is talking to her man about her waxing appointment she just had and she casually says 'HE was great' or 'HE did a great job’
How do you think the Chris characters would react? 😂😂
Warnings for Lexi getting on her professional high horse and inferences to, well, the areas that get waxed.
Hi. I'm Lexi, and this is my job. I wax people for a living and am about to get extremely serious for a moment before our fun imagines...
IF the person is professional, there is zero reason a male or female waxologist should matter. Of course, it is important for the client themselves to be most comfortable, but men and women can be equally good at this job and equally shit at it. I say this knowing that I went to school with a handful of women that did not care about the comfort or safety of their clients, only money and time. I'd say it was as bad as 50/50. The sex or sexual orientation of your professional doesn't actually matter, and I find it childish that any man would get huffy or jealous as long as the service is done professionally and well for the actual client. I would personally punch any man (yes, even those with faces as pretty as above) for being a sexist, assuming dickhead in this manner.
James Mace
Curious. Sorta wants to come with you to your next appointment and ask how a man gets into that line of work, since it is more rare. Mace would also be curious if you were shocked at first that a man would wax you. Did you feel uncomfortable at first? Has more than one man waxed you? Is this...is this a thing he can learn to help with? He's simply never thought about it before.
Curtis Everett
Weirdly 'classic man' about it and thinks it's bizarre a man waxes people. He just thinks that sounds like a woman's profession and a woman's service. Cringes and hisses at the mere thought of hair being ripped from his own body, so Curtis cannot fathom why anyone does it, man or woman.
Jimmy Dobyne
Doesn't give a rat's ass if there's hair down there, so mostly he's just indifferent to the whole situation. If you start talking about 'how cute' your waxer is, however, that's another story. Would probably assume the man is gay, too, and would express shock if you said otherwise. To Jimmy though, a job is a job. Whatever.
Johnny Storm
Simultaneously doesn't care and is fascinated. He's a try-anything-once person, so Johnny kinda wants to know what that feels like AND will be an enormous baby about the pain of waxing. He would be equally fascinated if the professional were female or male to be honest, though he'd be slightly more goofy and flirtatious with a woman. Johnny--as you may guess--would love to make you jealous so that he can 'prove himself' to you over and over again; he isn't a jealous type on his own.
Jake Jensen
Dead silence. Doesn't mention a fucking thing about how he feels but internally screaming. Deeply angry that not only did a man see you that way but also that a man is doing something 'painful' to you and that Jake didn't know before. Does a background check on your professional without ever saying a word to you. Only brings it up if there's something suspicious in the man's record. Refuses to be 'that guy' and voice his discomfort. Hopes you both never speak of it again...or the man retires soon and you see a woman.
Lloyd Hansen
Can you guess? I feel by now you can guess what I'm going to say.
Lloyd (that's right) doesn't. give. a. fuck.
Good. Get waxed. There is no need to talk about it. He just cares that it's done, not about any of the specifics.
Ari Levinson
Horrified that anyone waxes anything. Vaguely interested that a man offers it. Asks you what he looks like--i.e. does a man with a lot of hair (like Ari) wax other people or is he rather hairless himself? Ari shivers while considering it and promptly forgets all about it.
Ransom Drysdale
Did the job get done? Fine. Is the guy your only option for someone to wax you? No. Will Ran call your salon and insist you never be booked with the guy (or any guy) again? Yes. Yes he will.
Does Ran tell you he did that? No. Does he care if you know? Also no, but he ain't fucking discussing it. End of story.
Andy Barber
Literally has twelve other things to talk about with you so he doesn't care at all. Would forever prefer enjoying the results then getting hung up on the methods...
Steve Rogers
Has NO IDEA how to respond to that. Has NO IDEA if he should care or be mad or be interested or offer any words whatsoever. Is SO AWKWARD when moving on to another topic of discussion.
Bucky Barnes
Grumpy. First suggests and then insists that he do it for you/help. Verbally observes that it would save money and time to simply do it at home; emotionally unhinged at the wave of possessive rage he feels in the moment. He isn't proud of the response, but he also isn't letting that continue. Full-stop.
Thank you for asking!
[Main Masterlist; Who Would...Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555
@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory
@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn
@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries
@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm
#ro answers#steve rogers fanfiction#curtis everett fanfiction#ransom drysdale fanfiction#ari levinson fanfiction#jake jensen fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#james mace fanfiction#johnny storm fanfiction#lloyd hansen fanfiction#jimmy dobyne fanfiction#steve rogers x reader#curtis everett x reader#ransom drysdale x reader#ari levinson x reader#bucky barnes x reader#jake jensen x reader#johnny storm x reader#james mace x reader#lloyd hansen x reader#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber x reader
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Summer Session
1K words
CW: None!
A/N: we are so back, baby <3 special appearance (in name only) made by SEVENTEEN’s Vernon!
[Sana x F!Reader]
Requested: Yes
Your start to the summer was boring. You hated to admit it, but it was a little lonely without the rest of your classmates around in your college town. For the 65 members of your graduate school cohort, summer meant trying to fulfill mandatory internship requirements and putting in a few hundred hours of service in your soon-to-be field. You were lucky to get an internship in the city, avoiding the hassle of subletting and juggling double rent for the next three months. But staying put also meant you were separated from everyone else; your closest school friends were now scattered across the country, interning in other cities and less available now that you were all in different time zones.
Desperate to be able to talk to someone face to face instead of over FaceTime, you downloaded Tinder. Finding a partner was of zero interest to you at the moment, but you figured if you went on enough awkward first dates, you’d meet someone who could stick as a friend. A lot of your current friendships had started out that way, anyway– as first and second dates that shifted into platonic relationships instead. You knew it was possible, you just had to put in a little effort.
One warm Friday night in June, you prepared dinner for yourself eagerly, happy to be done interning for the week. Clearing some space for your plate on the coffee table, you sat down in front of your TV. Taking a sip of the chilled wine you’d poured, you hit play on a new drama series and settled in to watch and eat.
Your meal was delicious, but the pilot episode of the show wasn’t as good as you’d hoped. Part of the way through, you pulled out your phone and opened Tinder. Your eyes flicked back and forth between the television screen and the profiles of girls on your phone. You swiped halfheartedly for a while, but quickly lost interest in that, too. You were just about to grab your book and turn the TV off when you did a double take at the next profile Tinder brought up for you.
You knew her.
It was a girl from your cohort: Sana. You sat up straight, nearly knocking your wine over as you blindly reached for it, eyes still taking in the pretty dark haired girl on your screen. You had always thought Sana seemed fruity, but since she never attended any of the queer student activities for your program and you’d never seen her at any of the gay clubs, you thought for sure you’d read her wrong.
Taking a quick screenshot, you hurriedly took another sip of wine and quickly sent it to Chaeyoung, a close friend in your program. Within seconds, your phone was vibrating with her reply.
Chae 🍓: omg��
Chae 🍓: SANA?!?!?!?!?!
Chae 🍓: !!!!!!!!
Chae 🍓: i fucking knew it!!!!!
Chae 🍓: was it a match 👀
You hesitated for a moment, then went back to the app and swiped right before all of your courage left you. The app simply presented the profile of another girl after Sana’s disappeared. You chuckled to yourself, slightly embarrassed as you crafted a reply. No, you sent. Sorry to get your hopes up~
You hadn’t realized your own hopes had been up until Sunday night arrived and you noticed that none of the matches you’d gotten on the app over the weekend were Sana. And when Chae texted you curiously about it on Monday, it was even more embarrassing to admit that you had nothing new to report. You decided to give up on having any hope at all the next day. It wasn’t like you and Sana were close, after all. You’d only ever hung out outside of class to work on occasional group projects with her. There was no reason at all to expect anything from her.
But on Wednesday while you ate lunch alone on the outdoor deck of your internship office’s downtown headquarters, your phone vibrated. You sighed a little, setting down your sweating can of pop before grabbing your phone. You assumed it was a Slack message from a coworker at worst, and at best a text from Chaeyoung or another one of your friends. To your surprise, the two incoming texts you had just gotten were from a number you didn’t know.
Unknown: hey, is this Y/N?
Unknown: it’s Sana 😊
Your eyes went wide. How did she get your number? You were about to pull up your message conversation with Chaeyoung, but another text from Sana appeared. Your feeling of pleasant surprise changed to complete and utter horror. Sana had sent you a screenshot of your own Tinder profile.
Maybe: Sana: saw you~ i didn’t know you were around for the summer!
You locked your phone immediately and screamed silently, begging the earth to swallow you whole. It didn’t, so instead, you saved Sana’s number, then took a screenshot of the whole conversation and sent it to Chaeyoung with lightning speed. You had to, you thought, before you died of mortification. You gave Chae all of fifteen seconds before you then glanced at your watch and called her.
“I was literally just about to call you,” Chaeyoung’s voice was bursting with excitement. “She totally wants you,” she teased, laughing. “Well?”
You groaned. “I haven’t replied yet! And stop laughing, I might have to transfer to another program out of state because how EMBARRASSING this is.”
“Oh come on, this is a great segue!” Chaeyoung replied. “Tell her–” Chae’s voice cut out a little as your phone vibrated– another incoming text. You pulled your phone away from your ear and exhaled sharply.
Sana: vernon gave me your #, i hope that’s cool. we should hang sometime! are you free this weekend? :]
“Y/N? Hello?” Chae’s voice seemed soft and distant as you stared at your screen. You hadn’t put Chaeyoung on speakerphone, but her waiting silence felt louder somehow.
“She–” you cleared your throat a little as you processed everything and put your phone back up to your ear. “She just asked if I’m free this weekend.”
#twice imagines#twice x f!reader#twice x fem reader#sana imagines#twice x reader#we're not sinning yet#but we will be
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Hello! I wanted to request for the 300 followers event, congrats!!! Applying with Tendo, I am organised and a problem solver (sorry, it's the same as the example, but the idea was tempting 😅).
thank you!!! it's in the example for a reason, what a great choice! you are very much hired<3
Time to spare
Tendo is a regular and finally asks you out, for the now hiring! event
word count; 792 – f!reader
You always noticed the tall man with red hair who seemed to never have time to spare but still took the time to thank you for your amazing coffee before rushing off.
Tendo came in a couple of times a week, always during rush hour, and you assumed he was on his way to work. Unfortunately, rush hours in the café were rough, so you never had the time to ask him about his job, or anything else for that matter, without it seeming weird. He was probably just a kind man who wanted coffee. But still, your eyes would scan the crowd curiously at the same time every day, wondering if you would get to see him.
One day he was determined to spend time getting to know you because it was finally a bank holiday in France and the old ladies he charmed into buying double rounds of chocolate a week ago said he deserved a day off. He took their advice, leaving the sign on closed as he exited in his nicest shirt. Ushijima said he looked sumptuous, which he’s not quite sure what means, but it sounded really good and came along with a thumbs-up emoji.
Should I get her flowers? No, that’s too much… but if she agrees on a date, I will definitely get her flowers.
There was a certain spring in his step as he made his way to the café. Tendo couldn’t wait to finally have the time to talk to you, and he wasn’t even looking inside as his eyes zeroed in on the door handle and he grabbed it, pulling…
It’s a bank holiday… so the café was closed too.
He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face when he noticed the café was completely dark, which he should have noticed much earlier. He already started considering what other day he could take off when he had so many orders, but then there was a sound of footsteps behind him that made him turn around.
“Hi,” you said, a bit awkward as Tendo was currently just blinking at you in surprise. There was a set of keys in your hand, clinking as you put your arm down after a small wave.
“It’s not closed?” he asked, pointing at the closed door that he was still blocking without thinking about it.
He had a box of six delicious chocolates in his hand, pointer finger nervously rubbing the edge which made the glue loosen slightly just on the corner. Inspired by some Valentine’s Day traditions where he came from, he thought it might be a way to impress, even though that date was far away.
“We open a bit later because of the bank holiday,” you explained sweetly, stepping closer and hoping he might move away from the door. “If you have time to wait, I can still make you your usual.”
“I have all the time in the world today,” he said, so happy to see a warm blush beside your eyes that were crinkled from your smile.
“Great! A Vienna Coffee, right?”
And as Tendo followed you inside, he glanced down at the box in his hands but decided he shouldn’t ask before getting his coffee, so that you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable if you rejected him. So he stuck around and tried not to be in the way as you readied the café for opening, chatting away about things like his unusual coffee order that you had to look up the first time to make sure you did it properly.
You finally put his coffee down on the counter with his name on it followed by two small hearts. After talking to you, Tendo felt no less sure about wanting to ask you out, so he held out the box in exchange for grabbing the coffee.
“I made them, wondered if you might join me on a date sometime?” he asked, straight forward as ever. His eyes were wide as he looked at you, taking in your reaction and somewhat preparing himself for the possibility that you would say no.
“You made them?!” you squealed, covering your mouth to not alert your coworker who had come in and handled another order while you talked to Tendo. You opened the box, gasping again at how good they looked. “I can’t eat at work so I’ll save them, but that’s so sweet of you,” you cooed, looking up at him with a pout. He smiled that cute smile of his, leaning forward with his hands on his hips.
“So what do you say?” he asked, wondering if you were avoiding the dating part.
“About a date? Definitely yes. Could you show me how to make chocolates like this?”
“That would be my pleasure.”
masterlist
#now hiring! event#haikyu#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#fanfiction#hq#haikyuu x you#haikyuu fluff#haikyu fluff#tendo satori x reader#tendou satori#tendo x reader#tendou x reader#haikyuu tendou#tendo satori#tendo#tendou
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I had this massive rant last night but I'm just so unhappy with Shadow of The Erdtree. You can feel so much got cut or butchered for the final product and it hurts. The dlc is beautiful, the journey and locations are magical, it's such a good experience. But the story is so flat, so weak.
The lore is interesting. Everything we learn about Marika gives us so much. We know about her, why she did the things they did. Her people. Why she reacted to her omen children the way we did. We learn about the fingers and the absence of the greater will and how that has led to our twisted world, with Metyr reaching out to the nothingness. And that's where it ends.
I've been very critical of Miquella's handling in the dlc, I don't like how someone so important is relegated to like 4 voice lines and zero reason as to why we want to oppose him and join his order; like in his cut ending. He deserves way more screentime and integration into our journey.
Messmer I love, but he doesn't get to do anything? He's a boss, he's the firstborn, and he unleashed his mother's fury on the hornsent. And you kill him and that's that. How does he feel about his siblings? He interacted with Miquella, because how else does Miquella get to Enir-Ilim? He needs Messmer to give him access. Why did they cut that dialouge. I assumed Miquella told him about the shattering. How does Messmer feel about his mother's choice? Her imprisonment? How does he feel about Radahn, clearly positive since he lets all that shit happen. But Messmer deserved more and to say more words
Romina not getting any dialouge in the final cut is bad enough. But no cutscene?? She's clearly very important and she doesn't give us anything. It's so annoying, she is the boss that stands between us and the sealing tree and she's treatrd like fodder and not someone who is clearly VERY important to the story and likely Malenia.
I love St. Trina but it felt like she was forgotten, her lines were so interesting but her quest doesn't progress anything? She talks to us and gives us her view on what Miquella's doing which is great but god I think she deserved more
I've put a shit ton of time into DLCs for DS1, DS3 & BB and I will die on the hill that they were all done better than SoTE. It felt like they wanted to be vague for the sake of being vague to the point of it being less of a mystery to solve and more of a "oh, okay. Guess that's that." If this is meant to be the final content drop for ER (I hope not) then I really don't know what it was meant to achieve. I suppose it did educate us on Marika and the GW and then that's it.
I've seen a lot of takes that we should accept the story they gave us and it's entitled to want something different, but I feel if you're someone, like myself, who puts hours and hours of time into these games and you're used to really good stories and lore being told only for the next big dlc to basically fumble that for our epic Radahn moment is not great. And I am within my right to criticise that, as is anyone else. And if you're a massive fan of the story good for you, I'm not telling you you're wrong. This is MY opinion.
Also we should've had a Messmer consort ending ;)
#elden ring#miquella the unalloyed#shadow of the erdtree#miquella#miquella deserves better#messmer the impaler#romina saint of the bud#this dlc should have been better#it got gutted and we can tell#let us marry messmer#i hope we get more and better elden ring content
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How Obey Me Brothers realized they were in love with MC: Part Two, Mammon
A/N: Omg thank you so much for so many notes on Part One! I literally am so happy! Thank you so so much! Anyways, I got this idea from another creator who made a story of how MC favored Mammon because I think she also faced that back home, and when Mammon scores well but everyone continues to bully him, they live with Diavolo until the brothers apologized. I forget their username so if anyone knows do let me know!
Mammon: The Scummy Secondborn
Being known as the Avatar of Greed meant that nobody trusted you, even if you has good intentions.
Mammon was quite used to this, to be the punching bag of the family, the one who's intentions were always judged.
Mammon wasn't dumb, in fact he was quite smart, but he just didn't really focus on his academics too much.
But that didn't mean that he didn't score well every once in a while.
It was just that everybody, especially Lucifer, assumed he for 1. Cheated, and 2. Only scored well because he must've fucked something up.
Today, the results for a very important exam had come out, and Mammon was one of the top students, just under Lucifer and Satan.
But recently, Lucifer had frozen Goldie yet again, so everybody assumed that was the reason why.
"96? 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘥…𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘎𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 96 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘉𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴! 𝘚𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳…"
"𝘐𝘵'𝘴…𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦! 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦, 𝘺𝘢 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸? 𝘈𝘯𝘥…𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵?"
Mammon's shoulders slumped. He really had tried really hard, and this is what Lucifer was saying to him?
"Appreciate? For What? You Proving That You're Not Useless And Dumb?" "Shut Up, Belphegor!"
Mammon's head instantly shot up at the angry tone of MC. Belphie's pact mark, which was on their arm, glowed brightly, as his mouth instantly clamped shut, while his eyes glowed with anger. All the demon brothers stared at them in shock, as they flowered back, fists clenched.
Clearly sensing that sooner or later one of them were going to turn into their demon form, Mammon quickly grabbed MC and shakes them into his room.
The second they were inside he slammed the door shut and asked them why they did that.
"MC why would ya do that?! ya don't need to stand up for me!"
"Mammon did you see how they were treating you?! it's wrong and you don't deserve it! you did so good and they should appreciate it instead of acting like children! you're amazing and you deserve to be recognized, Mammon!"
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he listened to MC rant about his mistreatment. Sure, he hated how his brothers treated him, but he never stood up for himself. But to see MC do that, zero fucks given? It made him wanted to wrap them in the fattest and tightest hug possible and never let go.
And that's exactly what he did.
Being the Avatar of Greed meant that not many trusted him, and were willing to stand up or even just be kind to him. But for you to go against several of the most powerful demons just for him? It made him want to protect you from everything and anything. This feeling was so new, he hadn't felt it ever since Lilith died. But maybe, just maybe with MC, he could explore this feeling again.
"Thank you MC. i love ya so much."
#obey me#x you#x y/n#x reader#obey me leviathan#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me shall we date#obey me fandom#obey me nightbringer#obey me simeon#obey me brothers#obey me solomon#obey me luci x reader#obey me luci x mc#obey me mc#obey me asmodeus#obey me asmo x reader#obey me beel x mc#obey me belphagor x reader
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- YOU’RE MINE -
Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.
Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestive, smut love bombing, little sad, and kind of angst- not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!
Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9
Chapter 10 - ‘You’re Mine’
You sat on your apartment floor in a pile of your clothes. What the hell do you bring to visit a boy… in another country… for an unspecified amount of time. Lingerie was the first thing in your suitcase but like… what else?
Trent had been kind enough to organize everything for you so you really only had to lock up your apartment, he had gotten everything sorted down to a car picking you up and bringing you to the airport. You had an inkling it was more likely Tyler orchestrating the logistics but Trent was the one relaying the information to you. No matter, it was incredibly thoughtful.
He had booked you a hotel suite down near the Liverpool waterfront because you had mentioned that you had liked staying near there before during previous visits to the city. It was unsaid but assumed you’d more than likely be in Trent’s bed anyways but you didn’t want to pressure him or bother him after a match day and he hadn’t wanted you to presume this was a trip solely to get his dick wet. It also occurred to both of you that Trent lived with his family. It was comforting to him, something he loved, something you actually found endearing, and as much as you got along with his brothers, throwing you into the family home seemed like a big ask.
There were a lot of uncertainties about the trip… the most glaringly obvious, the length. You and Trent both just wanted to be back together so you hadn’t really set a return date. You were off and on your way to England tomorrow. You couldn’t exactly uproot your life for a man you hadn’t known for that long, let alone explain to your family that you suddenly had struck up a whirlwind romance with the Trent Alexander-Arnold but your return to New York was still TBD.
To be honest, your dad might be thrilled at the idea of the potential access to Anfield and return to his home country but you were a daddy’s girl so moving countries might throw him for a loop. Your mom, well.. she’d miss you but you having a boyfriend, no matter the location, would just make her life complete. That was another thing… you were so excited to visit ‘your Trent’ but he wasn’t your boyfriend really so what was this to him? You had told most people who needed to know your whereabouts that you were going to England to visit a friend, you’d be going to Liverpool for a game which you had done before… purposely avoiding the details though that seeing a player was the sole reason you were being flown out. You wanted to keep it hush until it was official with him or god forbid… if it were to all fizzle out. Your head was spinning when your best friend FaceTimed you breaking the trepidation.
“Are you even going to pack clothes?” She joked before even saying hello to you.
“Rude…. I am, but honestly haven’t got a clue what yet… I want to look good but not try too hard. I wanna be hot for him but I’ll also be with his family so the lines are a little blurry.” You began to rant, panicking. You initially had asked Trent what to pack but his response was zero help.
“You look amazing in anything… but I also want you in nothing.. so” he joked, providing no assistance during a recent phone call.
Despite everything being done for you, the trip was still a little overwhelming. The plan was to fly into Manchester, Trent insisting that Tyler pick you up because he wasn’t able to get you himself because his match was that day. Tyler would drive you to your hotel, check you in, let you settle in and then he and Marcel would grab you a bit later on to head to the stadium for the game so you could see Trent. After that…not a clue what was in store but you could only imagine it would involve little to no clothing… heavily depending on if you were able to manage to stay awake after the long day.
It all sounded so seamless but after a 7 hour flight, the idea of going to a packed season opener at Anfield and attempting to look presentable after not seeing your man for over a month was stressing you out. Trent didn’t really think that this was, rather the reunion would be exciting, fun, and romantic.
“Okay, okay… I’m thinking you have to go with basics right? Like heels, boots, a sneaker, jeans, white tee, and then obviously have to bring all the gifts and shit he’s sent you..” your best friend was trying to be practical and she was right. Just simple, like your first date, hot but comfortable.
“Yeah, okay, smart. Weather is kind of weird there… like if I need a jacket… I need to think a little more. Maybe I’ll shop when I’m there when he’s busy like at training…”
“You shop? Let him shop! He’s clearly not opposed to buying you things! Also… you’re going to the north of England not a deserted island. I hope you shop when you’re there.”
“I’m not letting him do that… he’s gotta chill with the..” you stopped your own sentence “oh my god! There’s a Selfridges in Manchester… wow I totally forgot. Ugh I can’t wait for that.” You were drooling at the idea of bringing those yellow shopping bags home, forgetting the current task at hand.
“Wow, yeah… I miss that place.” Your friend also getting lost for a second.
“Fuck! Focus Y/N.” You said aloud to yourself. “I need to pack now. I’m hanging up. You’re not as helpful as I needed you to be!” You poked fun sarcastically at your friend who had actually been helpful.
“Love you! Let me know when you you take off, land, fuck him, you know the important things” she cooed cheekily.
You managed to finish packing. An incredibly heavy full suitcase that barely zipped closed and a burgundy Goyard Saint Louis tote bag stuffed full of flight essentials; passport, charger, headphones, just the usual.
You hadn’t realized until you were in line for security rereading your ticket but you were pleased when you realized you were in first class and you had access to a lounge. You texted Trent an update as if he hadn’t planned your entire itinerary for the next 24 hours.
“Text me before you take off, baby 😘” he responded.
“I will 😘 going to see you so sooon… absolutely insane”
“Getting impatient” he texted, always managing to make you smile, make you feel wanted. So you boarded the plane, tucked into your seat with a smile and a warm feeling in your chest. You picked a movie, popped in your headphones and prayed for a safe flight and the ability to get some rest during it.
While you were in transit, Trent was busy with pre-match preparations and also ultimately getting ready for your arrival. He was so excited he couldn’t sit still, pacing around his house. He hadn’t really shut up about you over the past few weeks, more often than not talking to his mum, knowing she could keep a secret. He didn’t want to over share with his friends, teammates and brothers because he was well aware how whipped he was for you and they would no doubt give him shit. That said, he didn’t exactly hide his obsession all that well.
“I’m sorry I can’t make it to the match tonight, sweetheart” Dianne sincerely apologized to Trent standing in the kitchen that morning. She had a prior commitment she couldn’t get out of unfortunately. It didn’t really bother Trent, she had seen more minutes of him on the pitch than anyone but it also meant that it would postponing your meeting.
“Mum, really it’s fine… besides I’m getting a little nervous about who's all in the box tonight.” He said anxiously.
“You shouldn’t be nervous… you invited her and she wanted to come.” Dianne knew he was referring to you being in the box.
“I know I never say this….” Trent sighed leaning his forehead against the refrigerator door. “What if I play bad and she gets like the ick.”
“The ick?” Dianne perplexed by the term.
“Yeah, like the ick…” Trent poorly and inadvertently didn’t explain so Dianne moved on.
“Trenty, it’s just another normal night.” She tried to reassure him like he was still her little boy.
“She is flying to another country… for me.” Trent said initially with some fear but his own words actually had instilled some confidence in him. You were flying to see him. You didn’t have to do this, you wanted to.
Trent had to leave to meet with the team, start the whole process of match day so he gathered all his things, said goodbye to his mum, and made his way to the driveway. He stopped in his tracks half way to his car trying to remember if he had made his bed, hoping that tonight he could convince you to come sleep with him instead of your hotel. The thought of you back in his arms had him eager for the final whistle before kick off even happened.
You woke up with about a half an hour left in your flight. By the time you gathered yourself you had landed in Manchester. You were going to text Trent but you didn’t want to bother him as it was getting closer to game time so you opted to text Tyler letting him know you had arrived. Customs wasn’t too long but you needed a few extra minutes in the bathroom to reapply some tinted moisturizer, fix your hair, spray some perfume, it was fine for now but you couldn’t wait to shower at the hotel.
“In arrival pickup, I'm refusing to hold a sign like Trent wanted so just look for my car…black Mercedes.” Tyler texted. It made you laugh, he clearly was just being a nice brother doing Trent a favor. He downplayed his car exponentially, it was a massive Mercedes G-Wagon, not exactly subtle, it was matte black with completely tinted windows. You easily spotted it and rolled your suitcase down the pavement. Tyler got out of the car, calling your name lowly. You greeted him warmly with a sweet ‘hi’ and a big hug.
“You okay? Flight was fine?” He questioned genuinely, taking your suitcase and putting it in the boot of his car.
“Yeah, yeah all good. Airports are just so stressful so thank you for handling everything. Obviously wasn’t T.” You teased and Tyler shrugged knowing that was incredibly accurate.
You opened the car door to find a little box wrapped neatly with a bow on the front seat. You picked it up to try to hand it to Tyler like it was his.
“Obviously, it’s for you. He wasn’t going to let you arrive without getting you something… be real for a minute.”
You giggled knowing it was true. Gifts were one of Trent’s love languages for sure. You shuffled around in the seat a little awkwardly at first fumbling with the box before putting it in your bag.
“Everything good?” Tyler asked, noticing as he started to pull out of the lane.
“Sorry, just haven’t driven over here in a minute, was confused for a second.” You giggled more readjusting to the roads.
“I don’t have anything comforting to say, just the way it is, the way it should be.” He teased you.
“Sure.. whatever you say.” You poked back rolling your eyes. Being American made for easy jokes.
“I told him I got you, he won’t be on his phone today really so if you don’t hear from Trent before don’t take it personally.” Tyler spoke unprompted.
“Oh… yeah? Thanks. I didn’t want to bother him. Don’t really know anything about match day protocol I guess…. I usually am a few pints in by this point.” He laughed at your honesty.
“We'll get you a drink eventually. But after… usually best bet is to let him come to us depending on the result. I know he’s embarrassingly excited to see you though so I’ll get you to him.” He said openly not taking his eyes off the road.
You arrived at the hotel and Tyler offered to help you check in but you assured him you could manage, he already had done a lot and had to come back for you in a little so you felt a little guilty taking up more of his time. He left once you gestured to him through the window you had successfully got your room key.
You got to your room and immediately collapsed on the bed not long before springing back up and practically ripping off your clothes thinking about getting airplane germs on the fresh bed. You swiftly made it to the shower immediately.
You wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel sat on the edge of the bed, trying to remember what you had planned to wear to the match tonight. You looked at your open suitcase, beauty products now covering the counter tops, the sweatshirt you wore on the plane spilling out of your Goyard when you spotted the little box Trent had left for you peaking out.
“Oh shit” you exclaimed out loud in the empty room recalling you hadn’t opened it yet. You pulled at the ribbon, unraveling the knot opening the lid to reveal a small velvet jewelry box. You popped it open to see a gold band, it was a classic ring but it had a raised block font with the letters ‘TAA’ pressed onto it. You liked how personal it was, you liked that he wanted you to wear his initials. There was a little card with his scribbled handwriting, nothing too grandiose, just simple.
‘Your TAA xx’
You slid the ring on and you felt like your heart could burst. Getting a ring from Trent caused your mind to fantasize at what other sort of ring he could eventually buy you. Calling himself yours made you smile uncontrollably too. You threw on a tank top and shorts to lay in bed for a moment telling people back home you arrived safely in England when your screen flashed with an incoming FaceTime.
“Guess where I ammmmm” you answered while sitting up a little in the bed. Your arm wrapped tightly around your chest in excitement seeing the gorgeous boys face grace the screen. Overjoyed considering Tyler’s warning you may not hear from him.
“Baby, I cannot believe you are so close right now.” Trent said beaming.
“Weird right?!” You giggled.
“You promise you’re actually coming tonight, you and Ty aren’t just messing with me?” He sounded more serious than he needed to be. You flipped your camera to face away from you showing him your dainty hand now fitted with the ring with his initials, the Liverpool waterfront visible from the window behind your fingers. Confirmation you were definitely here before turning the camera back to you.
“Promise, pretty boy!” You cooed “Cannot wait to see you tonight.”
“You cannot wait to kiss me.” He corrected you, his eyes dropping a little lower to your chest now.
“Mmm” You hummed to get his attention knowing that your tits were on display. “Don’t you have to focus, dial in?”
“I’m focused… trust me.” Trent said lustfully before snapping out of his gaze.
“I do actually have to run but just needed to make sure you got here safely.” He rambled.
“All safe” you smiled.
“If there’s a lot of stoppage time tonight, I’m going to be pissed. Need to see my baby.” He groaned
“See you tonighttt, my T” you practically sang your smile getting bigger at the thought before hanging up. You pulled yourself out of bed knowing that Tyler and Marcel would be coming to pick you up sooner than later and you had to get ready.
You went for light makeup, your hair in a middle part and down, natural. You slipped on some promiscuous lingerie inspecting how you looked in the mirror. Once you confirmed this looked like the right set for your first night back together you put on Trent’s jersey. The warm feeling returned in your chest. You were a fan before you’d ever met him but knowing this was his, from him, it just felt different and you couldn’t suppress the butterflies filling your stomach. You pulled it tucking it up into the band of your bra, a hack you did to crop the shirt showcasing your stomach.
You chose a pair of fitted leather pants, you knew your ass looked good in them. After a long internal debate you landed on a Barbour jacket, it seemed the most weather appropriate. Frankly, your shoe choice was impractical, committing your look so you went with a pair of tan suede pointed toed heeled boots. And of course, it would only be right to bring the Chanel bag Trent had got for you. You weren’t monogamous to silver or gold so you wore both metals dripping in a ton of jewelry. Grabbing your phone from the charger you double checked you had everything and stood in the mirror analyzing every aspect of your outfit but was interrupted by the unknown UK number calling your phone. You usually wouldn’t but you answered assuming, not surprised to hear a familiar scouse accent giving you shit for running behind.
“I’m sorry!! I’m coming right now” you sincerely apologized to Marcel on the other end of the phone rushing. You walked through the lobby adjusting your outfit when the lady who checked you in earlier friendly questioned you.
“Headed out to the game tonight hun?” She asked spotting you adjust the team jersey.
“Yep!” You said sweetly with a smile but trying to hurry along as to not hold up the boys any longer.
“They are a handsome lot, maybe you’ll find yourself a player to bring back.” She said quite cheekily but it was meant with good lighthearted intentions.
“Maybe…” you said smugly, slyly, little did she know your reality.
You jumped into the familiar big Mercedes back seat you were in mere hours ago.
“You’re aware it’s a footie match?” Marcel made fun of your over the top outfit. It really wasn’t, frankly, they just were in far more casual clothes.
“Yes, I do and your opinion is not important to me. I like my outfit. Thank you very much!” You quipped teasing back.
You were thankful you’d been to Anfield before because it was actually quite overwhelming arriving. You had entered in sectioned off areas but even so the two brothers weren’t exactly walking around going unnoticed at the stadium. You could feel people staring. It was loud, bustling, and being thrust into the close circle of families and friends of players had you feeling out of place. You had made your way into a box nestled high in the stadium. It actually vibrated from the fan curated atmosphere. Opposite of you, the boys were so relaxed, they looked to be completely at home, before offering you a pint as promised. Haphazardly they showed you around the suite, the seats, where things were gradually. The noise outside only grew when the team made their way onto the pitch to warm up.
Even though he was younger than you Marcel felt like he needed to keep an eye on you. He could sense your nerves so he put his hand on your shoulder gently and guided you out of the box into the open air seats overlooking the field.
“He’s number 66.” He said facetiously pointing obviously down at Trent. Your heart nearly stopped seeing him. He was actually focused on football now opposed to your tits on FaceTime earlier, striking the ball with ease, laughing a little.
He looked so beautiful. Under the floodlights, his skin was just glowing. He had aura… god, he just radiated a coolness. He was so subtly confident, so sexy. Your finger stroked over the raised letters of your new ring settling your rapid breath. You couldn’t peel your eyes away, it had been so long since you’ve seen him in the flesh and there he was but he was still so so far away.
In a moment, the crazed environment completely faded away when Trent lifted his head, inspecting the stands, combing through faces in the box till he landed on yours. That smile. Oh my god, that smile on his face had you completely falling apart inside. He sent a quick wink your way, still attempting to keep his concentration on the game. Although small, his acknowledgement calmed you feeling more comfortable, finally taking off your jacket, admittedly slightly shyly considering you were sitting with boys who shared the last name on your back.
“Uhhohh we got a fan” Tyler jeered.
“Ugh T, you’re so sexy. Please let me be a WAG” Marcel moaned in a terrible, but equally funny, American accent impersonating you.
“I hate you both” you said with no real conviction, your eyes refusing to break from watching Trent stretch, it was hot.. you couldn’t deny it.
You had relaxed, meeting a few people, drinking and laughing with his brothers, you were having fun. The starting eleven took their positions before kick off. Trent had made his way to the back right of the pitch that was closer to where you all were sat. There was a pause, a hum of anticipation for the match to begin but in the lull Trent turned to look for you once more. He found you much faster this time, pressing his hand to his lips, blowing you a kiss pointing up to you directly. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried. It was bold, it was public, it was just for you. You were lost in the moment, looking longingly into the big brown eyes that felt miles away. You pushed your lips, pressing a kiss into the crisp air towards him. He smiled before putting his head back down to regain focus.
His brothers looked completely shocked at the interaction. Marcel’s hand gripped Tyler’s leg. They knew you two were into each other, it seemed to be serious, but never… never had they seen Trent break professionalism and do something so affectionate, not only in public, but on a massive stage. This game was at a fully packed stadium, broadcasted, spectated internationally and he without a single second of doubt was blowing a kiss to you.
The ref blew the whistle signaling the start of the match but also the start of something much more.
•
Thank you for continuing reading! DW smut will return! Let me know what you think!!!!!
Next part - Chapter 11
#trent alexander arnold#trent alexander arnold x reader#trent alexander arnold imagines#you’re mine fic
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Trust The Rogue To Lead You
Follow up to A Wish Breathed Into You
Odile contemplates the quest that her traveling partner has dragged her into. She trust him to lead her on this path.
[Siffrin & Odile] [Alternate Universe, Second Person POV, Odile POV, Introspection, Character Study]
Siffrin was a bit of an odd fellow, you'd known that since the first time you'd stumbled across each other. They were aimless and air headed at times, while being completely singled minded and determined at others. They could forget their words mid sentence one minute, but tell you the entire translation history of a play in the next. You didn't understand them, but you found them frightfully easy to get along with.
You had already been traveling for quite some time when you met Siffrin, and it seemed that they had been doing the same but with much less grace. They didn't seem to have a destination that they were aiming for and, though you wouldn't realize this until much later, didn't have a place that they planned to return to either. It was easy enough to let them stick by your side for a time and then just as easy to want them to stay there.
It was true that you questioned their decision to visit a frozen country, even when your own desire to do the same was rather high. It was a dangerous, reckless, and ill advised course of action. As much as you thought them to be a madman for suggesting it, you must have been just as mad to agree. As unorthodox as Siffrin's methods could be at times, he hadn't steered you wrong yet. You were hesitant to speak the words aloud, but you had placed a fair bit of trust in Siffrin and it had been repaid poorly.
Still, this "Universe" that they went on about mad zero since to you. It was somehow everything, but also everything was inside of it. It was a guiding force, but also he couldn't tell you a single thing about it when pressed. Not that Siffrin had ever been good at explaining himself under pressure, but that didn't mean you could always stop yourself from trying. You understood that it was part of his religion in some fashion, but you desperately wished you could get a few more concrete details out of him.
"I don't know what to tell you, Odile," Siffrin had shrugged at you when you'd tried to poke at his words. "The Universe leads, all we can do is follow."
He said it with such finality that it must have been a common saying in… wherever Siffrin was from. You'd yet to figure it out or get anything out of him on that mystery. The only thing you knew for sure was that he had no intention of returning there. Whether that was because he refused to for some reason or perhaps wasn't allowed to, you had yet to figure out.
It hadn't taken you long to begin writing down all your observations about Siffrin. It had taken even less time after that to realize that you'd need a separate notebook if you really wanted to understand all the strange oddities of your new companion. There had been one too many instances of scribbling in the margins of an already filled page for your liking, so you made the investment for a Siffrin specific book.
It worked out in your favor, as he seemed to get a kick out of trying to peek over your shoulder and you enjoyed the little game you'd made of pretending to hide it from him. It also gave you a chance to learn more about them. You'd learned earlier on that they couldn't read Ka Buan, so you'd made a game of seeing which scripts he could and could not recognize. Poterian seemed to offer him no trouble, which made sense as the two of you had met in Poteria. He scrunched up his face at Mwu script, which led you to assume that he didn't have much, if any, familiarity with the language. He had no trouble with Vaugardian, but seemed to take longer to parse out Andiran, despite the languages similarities.
You were used to others becoming a bit uncomfortable if you paid too much attention to them, so it was a refreshing change of pace that you could tease Siffrin in this manner. If anything, he seemed flattered by your attention.
It also made it easier to show your affection in this way. You weren't very physically affectionate, but you could list out the traits that you found endearing about them and smile as they slowly slunk into their cloak to hide their darkening face.
So, you were reasonably fond of Siffrin, you trusted him, and you were more willing to go along with his insane plans than you perhaps should have been. You didn't have a problem with any of this until you watched them fall out of a tree and scream bloody murder for so long that you knew you'd never be able to get the sound out of your head.
You hadn't questioned them on their little rituals, they'd always had them but this was one of the areas you were able to be patient in learning about them. You hadn't had any regret for that decision until then. If whatever they had done had led to this, you couldn't fathom allowing them to do as they pleased again.
Only… it worked. You hadn't truly believed that he could "fix Vaugarde" or whatever their insane idea had been, but as you looked around and saw life returning to the branches of the tree, you had to second guess that assumption. It seemed that "wishing" had more validity to it than you ever could have guessed.
"Wishcraft?" You asked with some incredulity. You had demanded that he allow you to check him over for injuries, but amazingly, he didn't seem to be hurt at all. You weren't sure how that was possible with how hard he had fallen and how raw they had screamed themselves, but you decided to let it go for the time being. Too many mysteries at once would give you a headache.
Siffrin simply nodded at you. "Yeah. It's… I'm not sure how to explain it?"
You tried to control your expression so that you didn't look as skeptical as you felt. "A craft based around… wishes?" You repeat. "I've never heard of such a thing before."
Siffin sank down into his cloak the way he often did when he was embarrassed, before he looked back at you and shrugged. "I… don't know why I know it, just that I… do?"
There were a great many things that Siffrin didn't know why they knew. His memory was unreliable at the best of times, yet his knowledge was usually spot on. He was more likely to underestimate his knowledge than overestimate it.
"Tell me more about this… Wishcraft."
"Like what?" They asked with such an unassuming expression that you knew they were not simply trying to withhold the information from you. Sometimes you weren't sure how someone as expressive and kind as Siffrin had made it on their own as long as they did. You often sent thanks to whatever Expression had guided them to your side instead of into the hands of someone worse.
"How does it work?" you asked, opening your notebook so that you could keep track of whatever they told you. "What does it do?"
"Well, it works by wishing?" He didn't sound particularly certain as he said that, but you attributed that more to him explaining it to you than any actual uncertainty in what he was trying to say. "And… it can do… a lot? Maybe not anything, but… I mean, if you wish for it…"
You wouldn't get anywhere this way.
"Alright, how about you tell me about this?" You gesture to the Favor Tree.
"You have to make a wish in order to use it," he started slowly. You could practically see him trying to arrange the words in his head. "And you can wish for anything, but the way that you wish makes a difference."
"How so?"
You could tell from the way that their face scrunched up that this isn't something he'll be able to answer. Or if he can, certainly not easily. You decided to try a different avenue.
"What are some ways to make wishes?"
Siffrin perked up a bit at that question. It must be easier to answer than the others. "There are rituals," he answered. "Like, if you're just saying your wish aloud, you can say it three times, or six, sometimes nine, but it isn't usually a good idea to go higher than that. You can, but…"
But he can't explain the ins and outs of it.
"What else?" You asked, writing that down.
"You can wish on a dandelion, but you have to blow all the seeds away in a single breath or it won't work. And you can wish on a star, but you have to really want it for a star to grant your wish and that's only for bigger wishes, anyway."
Siffrin had mentioned stars before, but you weren't sure why they had a hand in granting wishes. In fact, you weren't sure that any of this made sense to you. You didn't see any connecting thread between these things. You gestured for him to go on anyway.
"With the cranes, you have to fold a certain amount of them and the more that you fold, the bigger you can make your wish," he told you. "But just folding them isn't enough. You have to focus on your wish while folding and then whisper it into the folds of the paper so that the paper holds the wish and keeps it safe."
"Why does the paper need to hold the wish?"
He looked confused at the question. "Something has to take your wish to the Universe. So like, with a dandelion, each seed is carrying your wish away, but if you don't want it enough, then it won't be granted. That's why you need to blow off all the seeds." That… almost made sense to you. "Cranes can fly, so if you tell them your wish, they can carry it to the Universe for you, but only if you fold them right. Otherwise your wish will fall out and it'll be dropped before they make it to the sky."
Wishcraft sounded utterly absurd, but it was clear that there were rules. Rules that operated under some kind of logic even though you were clearly lacking the connective tissue to follow that logic.
You finish writing down everything he told you, even the parts that didn't make sense to you. Perhaps if you revisit the topic down the line, it will.
"So… unfreezing Vaugarde." It sounded completely mad when you'd first agreed, but now the task had gone from impossible to merely… daunting. You couldn't imagine taking on more responsibility than you seemingly just had. Unfreezing an entire country, fighting off hordes of these Sadness. Would it be just as volatile of a process every time? Would Siffrin need to use the same ritual? Would it always… hurt him?
You suspected that Siffrin wouldn't have the answer to these questions if you asked him.
"We should get some sleep," you told him, closing your book and pushing yourself to your feet. You felt the strain in your limbs just a bit and when you stretched, you could feel the creak in your back. "I suspect we'll have quite a lot of work ahead of us when the town unfreezes."
Siffrin nodded and pushed himself to his feet.
Tomorrow you might not have a choice in how things proceeded, so you should probably ask now, while you have the chance.
"Siffrin." They stopped and looked up at you. "Are you sure that you want to take up this task? It will not be easy and it will not be quick. It'll be more dangerous than our previous travels and more labor intensive as well."
Silence settled between you for a while. You hoped that they were considering your words and not considering how to distance themselves from you for the audacity of asking.
"I have to do this, I think," he said eventually. "Even if the Universe didn't guide me here, I owe it to Vauguarde. Also… I might be the only one that can." He looked up. "So I have to do it. I don't want Vaguarde to become just a memory." Another pause. "You don't have to help me… if you don't want to."
You reach out to place a hand on his head. "I'm not leaving you to do this alone, my dear rogue. This old lady will be with you for a while longer, yet."
He smiled, small and shy, but full of warmth. "Thanks Odile."
In the morning the two of you watch as the town comes to life. People that had been frozen in motion lurched forward, bird song slowly began to fill the air, the lightlessness receded from the world, and the air warmed. You and Siffrin tried to follow the wave of the curse breaking to catch those that were stuck in awkward positions and try to explain what had happened.
By the afternoon, most of the town was unfrozen and by nightfall, you could see the borders where Siffrin's wish had stopped.
You tried to explain, as simply as you could, what had happened. Neither you nor Siffrin really wanted to get into the idea of Wishcraft, but you didn't really need to. People understood that the two of you were responsible for unfreezing them and the rest didn't really matter to them all that much.
"We're so grateful to you, saviors!" Your eyes went to Siffrin when one of the townsfolk grabbed your hands to thank you. From the way they were shrinking into their cloak, you didn't think that they would appreciate the correction. Siffrin didn't particularly enjoy too much attention on him and while you knew that the attention would inevitably come, you didn't need to hasten the inevitable. "Please, is there any way that we can help you?"
You only needed to consider your response for a moment.
"There's a long journey ahead of us, a sizable task. And aid that you could offer…"
"Of course!"
"Anything for our saviors!"
The people of Vaugarde were generous. That could be expected from a person in their position, but you were fairly certain you would not receive this warm of a response from Ka Bue if your home had been in the same position. They offered you supplies for your journey, as much food as you could reasonably carry, and begged you to stay long enough for them to hold a celebration with you both.
You agreed, of course. There wasn't a time limit to your journey. Between fighting and traveling, the task would be arduous enough, but you weren't yet sure what burden Wishcraft would put on Siffrin, so you wanted to give them ample time to relax while they could.
During the height of the celebration you decide to check the Favor tree. You aren't yet sure what significance they hold to Vaugarde, you haven't gotten the chance to ask anyone yet, but Siffrin had told you what they were called and it had served as the base for their wish which seemed like it must be significant somehow. To your surprise, the light that had been housed within the paper cranes had died.
You spent a long time staring at them and at the people surrounding the favor tree. There were still so many unknowns about this journey, this mysterious craft. You weren't yet sure how to navigate it all, how you could help Siffrin, but you were determined to try. You knew that much.
"Hey, Odile!" You turned to Siffrin smiling up at you, holding out their hand. "Flower for you!"
It was a simple thing, the flower. Just a small token. But it had been frozen just hours earlier and now it was alive. Because of you. You and Siffrin.
You accept the flower with a small smile. "Thank you, Siffrin."
The smile that they gift you with is even better than the flower, but only one of those can be bundled up so that you can keep it with you forever.
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I can't stop thinking about the notes on this rage-bait post about To Kill a Mockingbird.
Some of it is the sheer number of people falling for the bait and believing that the school district in question banned the novel:
But there's also this...tone to so many of the notes that I find fascinating. And I think two sets of comments illustrate why:
Every time I look at these tags I feel like there is something more to unpack. If I am being kind of flip, I can roll my eyes at someone "sigh[ing] at the lack of reading comprehension" while falling for outrage bait.
But more seriously, I feel like this comment is completely right about needing to be uncomfortable and leave sterile environments in order to grown and change...but that comment exists in the context of the writer being so deeply uncomfortable at the mere idea that an over 60 year old book will no longer be taught to some children that they completely fail to interrogate the underlying story. There's a failure to take the next step. It's possible the writer was uncomfortable when they first read the novel, but to quote a tag I didn't capture here, it's "one of [their] favorite books." The book doesn't make *them* uncomfortable at all. The writer is not willing to interrogate that the school district might have had good reasons for switching the book out of the curriculum. Instead, they assume that the reasons are because "people don't understand" the book - the writer "see[s] what they look for."
I love To Kill a Mockingbird. (Hell, I'm one of those white future-public defenders who read the book and saw the movie and watched Atticus with my soul in my throat and, while I was not directly inspired by him, he resonated with a deep part of me.) It would be an uphill debate to convince me to remove it from a teaching curriculum - but then again, I'm not in charge of any teaching curriculum and have zero relevant expertise. I've read now a number of different articles and reactions to this incident, and the reactions rarely have anything to do with the reality of what decisions were made and why. You have to jump through numerous links to find what appears to be the original parent complaint:
Yolanda Williams said she found out that students were saying the N-word and laughing in the classroom, and it was offensive. “Students were laughing out loud at the teacher’s response. That’s unacceptable to me,” she told the board. “Is there not a better way to teach about that era and the horrors of that era, other than having kids laughing in class when the N-word is said? It should not be required reading for all students. My child shouldn’t have to sit in that class like that.” “It’s not a conducive environment,” Yolanda Williams said. “It’s not just the book, but supplemental material that had the N-word.
(How much do we value, how do we weigh, one way of learning about the history of racism, against the pain of a black child? Whose comfort are we willing to sacrifice, and for what?)
The second comment I come back to is much shorter, but I feel like it's where everything fell in to place for me:
Were the people made uncomfortable by the book white people? How many of them? I don't know for sure - although I know at least one of the parents, as quoted above, was black - and neither do any of the commenters.
Why do we read "people" and see "white people?" And in a way, I'm asking a rhetorical question - because of course we do, because the tweet is set up that day. And, even more so, of course we do - because the people the book is for are white people.
To go back to the previous comment, the one I can't stop unpacking: the writer quotes a famous line from the book, "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view...until you climb into his skin and walk around in it."
And yes, I love this quote.
But.
But.
To Kill a Mockingbird was written by Harper Lee, a white woman.
The narrator of the book is Scout, a white child.
The hero of the book is Atticus, her white father.
The embodiment of the theme, the person whose skin Scout tries to step into, is Boo Radley, another white man.
Do you remember, the man who was murdered? Do you see him in that picture at the top of the post? How long does it take you to remember his name?
When do we step into his skin? When do we walk around with his perspective?
I love To Kill a Mockingbird. But if a school district wanted to teach a book to embody this quote, aren't there so many better ones?
Another commenter on the post appears to have actual lived experience with this book being removed from the teaching curriculum.
#to kill a mockingbird#usual disclaimer: please don't try to find any of the people whose comments I quoted#they were reacting to the screenshotted tweet in the way that the tweet was designed to provoke
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Orbit - Act Two
Y/N has a little problem and it’s that she’s literally never alone. She hasn’t known what a little peace and quiet is for nearly a decade. When her therapist suggests a wellness retreat, she expects to be bored to death and just maybe learn to like meditation a little bit. She does not expect to meet someone that she has an insane connection with. Too bad it might be too good to be true.
You can find the masterlist here.
Genre: medium au, a hint of soulmate au, heavy on the angst
Pairing: Minghao x reader (featuring therapist!Jeonghan, best friend!Junhui, and ghost!Vernon, with a tiny bit of coworker!Seungkwan)
TW/CW: *deep breath* a lot of discussion of death and moving on (or not) afterwards, grief, trauma (specifically regarding a car accident), therapy, meditation, hypnosis, sleep disturbances, psychic abilities, discussion of mental illness and treatments, and explicit smut. MDNI.
There are some difficult topics in this story and they are handled as delicately as possible, but proceed with caution if anything here might be upsetting.
Word count: 9.4k
Jeonghan sets a metronome in front of you and you glare at him.
“I am not in the mood,” you warn, feeling particularly temperamental today. You’re running on next to zero sleep and the only reason you showed up today is because he’d give you a hard time for cancelling on him. Again. Jeonghan huffs at you.
“Y/N, you have to work with me here. I’m a therapist, not an expert in mediumship, but I’m really trying here.”
“Where did you even get that thing? And are you trained in hypnosis? You know it’s not a recommended practice, right?” Your tone is biting, and Jeonghan narrows his eyes at you across the coffee table.
“You’re in a fine mood today,” he bites back. “And if you must know, I borrowed it from a friend and I did take a class. And I was the one that sent you the article saying it was not recommended, remember? But your file breaks all of the rules for typical therapy, so I’ve tossed out the rule book when it comes to you.”
In the six months since your wellness retreat, Jeonghan had doubled down on trying to find things that could help you gain control of your abilities. He had seemed to fully accept that you were indeed a medium.
Maybe it had something to do with you relaying a message for him from behind the veil. His grandmother was not happy about the woman he was dating. Jeonghan had thrown his notebook in the trash can and announced his resignation, particularly after you nailed the way his grandmother would have ranted about it. And yet, he was there the next week, ready to try something new.
He’d pressed about how your wellness retreat had gone and you’d done your best to dance around the topic. Yes, it was insightful but it would take some practice. He’d given up on pressing for more details and just asked for you to send him the things you found insightful so he could research them. This had led him down the rabbit hole over the last few months and now today’s experiment was apparently hypnosis.
You’re still glaring at him from across the table. “What’s your goal with hypnosis?”
“First, to see if it works,” Jeonghan bites, before huffing, settling into his seat, taking on a defensive pose that you almost call him out for. “I think it might since the meditation has been working. And I’d like to explore your lost time.”
You tense. “What lost time exactly?”
Jeonghan hesitates before finally saying, “I’d like to explore the lost time of your accident. But we can start with smaller bouts of lost time instead, if you’d prefer.”
You shake your head. “I don’t know that it would be worth exploring the lost time during the accident. Supposedly, I was unconscious upon impact.”
Jeonghan nods, pursing his lips. “Maybe. But one thing I’ve learned from working with you is that you can’t assume that a word like ‘unconscious’ means ‘unaware’.”
Your jaw ticks. He’s asking you to relive the genesis of all your troubles now. The only thing that could be worse than not knowing like you have for almost a decade is actually knowing. A lot of days, the facts you’d been given were enough. “If I… agree to this, how do you pull me out? I’m not interested in being re-traumatized on this fine Tuesday afternoon.”
Jeonghan looks pleased that you’re even considering it. “We’ll use a code word that we establish up front. It would ideally have nothing to do with your situation and hearing it should break you from whatever you’re experiencing.”
You can’t help but grimace a little. “You really have been to a hypnosis training, huh.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Are you in or out? I have a back up for today if you’re out.”
You don’t have much to lose, except for maybe your sanity, but that’s been hanging by a very thin thread for a while. But missing your subway pickup might snap that thread just as easily. “I’m in.”
Jeonghan has you sit in the center of the couch, leaning back into the cushion. He says it’s important that you’re comfortable and relaxed. He even gives you a pillow to hold, musing that you can keep your defensive pose if it makes you feel safer. Then he sits up across from you, starting the metronome that faces you on the coffee table.
“This is similar to meditation in the beginning. Watch the metronome, get in tune with the ticking. Maybe even sync up your breaths with it if it’s comfortable. When you’re ready, close your eyes,” Jeonghan instructs, sitting back in his seat.
You’d gotten a little better at filtering and meditation, so you slip into that state with only a little resistance. Your eyes drift closed after a while, focusing on the steady click of the metronome amongst the noise. That noise starts to fade, but you hear Jeonghan somewhere in there. “Y/N, if you can hear me, nod your head.” You respond robotically. “Good. Our code word is ‘elephant’. If I say it, I want you to come back.”
Silence stretches for a while and you do your best to focus on Jeonghan’s voice amongst the ticking when he speaks again. “Let’s go back to that night. You were driving right? What were you listening to?”
You feel your body jerk in a weird way and then suddenly your hands are on the wheel. It’s dark and your passenger seat is full of bags. Jeonghan calls your name. “Some rock station, I don’t know the song,” you mumble.
“Good. What were you planning to do that night when you got to your parents’ house?”
It’s not a memory exactly, but rather an active thought. You can’t wait to have dinner. Your mom is making one of your favorites because it’s your first time back home in nearly six months. “Hungry,” you say shortly. “Mom is making dinner for me.”
“You’re doing good, Y/N. How’s the weather?”
“Terrible. A lot of snow. I’m driving slow but it’s still slick.”
“Okay.” You wait, still ‘driving’ with your grip on the steering wheel tight. “Now, think about just before the accident. What do you see? Take a look around.” You look around, right and then left. There are no turns ahead yet but there’s a car coming your way on the other side of the road. The headlights veer in an unsettling way and then the light closes in on you fast. Panic slices through you. “Deep breath, Y/N. It’s a memory. It can’t hurt you. Slow things down. This is all up to you. Hit pause and look around.” Jeonghan’s wrong. It isn’t all up to you and you can’t hit pause because the car is on you in a heartbeat. But, unlike how your memory stops at that moment, you’re still conscious. “Y/N?”
In the blink of an eye, you’re in the ditch, a horn blaring, but you aren’t sure which car it comes from. You look to the left. “It’s a tan sedan,” you blurt.
“Okay. Can you make out anything else?”
You shake your head in this little vision of yours because you can’t. It’s too dark. There’s motion from the other car and even though you’ve sort of lived this before, relief floods you. Someone approaches in the darkness, but you can’t make it out. Whatever out of body you’re experiencing is starting to fade. Your neck and left side suddenly hurt. You’re in the car and yet you’re not.
When it starts to become unbearable, you hear Jeonghan say, “elephant” and then you’re slamming back into your body. You squeeze your eyes shut because the light is too bright and all the noise makes you feel like your head might explode. All of it makes you fold into the pillow in your lap. The clicking stops and Jeonghan’s hand is on your back, a solid pressure that gradually brings you back to reality. He hands you a wad of tissues when you sit up. When you wave him off, he gets you some water and sits back down across from you, not looking relaxed at all.
“Anything?” He finally asks.
You shake your head, feeling defeated. “No. Not really.” The timer goes off and he turns it off, before pinning you with a long look.
“Do you want to talk about it now? Or do you want some time to think about it?”
You feel so drained that the only thing you can say is, “I’ll see you next week.” He lets you go without a single snarky comment this time.
You arrive to work a few minutes early and are kind of surprised by how many people are already there. Seungkwan spots you from the crowd and comes to meet you at your desk. “Did I miss a meeting invite?” You ask, scrambling for the app on your phone.
“No. Didn’t you get the email?” Seungkwan asks, confused. You give him a blank look that must be answer enough. “Mr. Kim died yesterday.”
Your eyes widen and you place the phone on your desk, giving Seungkwan your full attention. Mr. Kim was one of your managers, a sweet old man that was well past retirement age but enjoyed working to keep busy, particularly after his wife had passed and his kids had all moved away. His death isn’t a surprise exactly, but it’s still devastating in that he was such a positive force in the office. Everyone loved working with Mr. Kim. “What happened?” You ask weakly.
“He wasn’t feeling well and stayed home from work yesterday. When he didn’t answer the phone, one of his neighbors came to check on him. Must have gone in his sleep,” Seungkwan explains, clearly upset. You mask your relief because it’s not at all appropriate to show, but you think that it’s a good thing that it was in his sleep. You’ve seen what a traumatic death does to someone and you would never wish it on anyone, least of all Mr. Kim.
“That’s awful,” you sigh. “Have they made arrangements yet?”
Seungkwan shakes his head. “Not yet, but I hear they will today.”
You nod, letting Seungkwan drift to someone else as they approach with the same confusion that you had. You make it a point to not go to funerals for obvious reasons, but you’ll make the exception for Mr. Kim.
Speaking of, you sit down at your desk… and see Mr. Kim. He’s sitting at his desk, twiddling a pen with a soft smile. He makes eye contact with you, raising the pen in his boney fingers like he’s waving at you. You smile to yourself, before wiping it away because it’s totally inappropriate amongst the grieving and log in to your computer. You have a feeling he won’t stick around for long, which is all you hope for Mr. Kim, even if you’ll miss him.
You make it a point to not go to funerals, but you know you should show up to one with flowers when you go. After all, you had nineteen normal years to teach you those sort of things.
You get to the area of town that the funeral home is in early and find the nearest florist shop. It’s a cute, little place, the exterior a dark red brick with pristine white shutters nailed around the wide windows. The bell dings above the door when you walk in and the shop is empty, save for you and a bunch of plants.
Plants aren’t your forte, but you browse them. Most are too bright for the occasion - you don’t need a florist to tell you that. “Hey, I’m sorry, I was wrapped up in something.”
You twirl at the sound of the voice, not because it came out of nowhere, but because it’s familiar. Minghao is standing behind the counter, clad in an apron, wiping his hands on a towel. He looks equally shocked.
“Y/N? This is a surprise.” You feel warm all over at how his face lights up, like he’s genuinely happy to see you despite how you’d left things six months ago. You give him a shy smile back.
“It is. I didn’t know you were a florist.” You glance around the shop before looking at him again. “This does remind me of you, though. It’s… comforting in here.”
He looks a little sheepish. “Maybe. I’m still trying to make it mine. I bought it off of the previous owner last year. I worked for her for years and couldn’t stand to see the place fall into someone else’s hands.”
You feel even more warm and fuzzy. “That’s thoughtful of you.” You both stare at each other for a long moment. “I’m… sorry I didn’t reach out. I feel stupid about it, but I lost your number somewhere between the airport and home.”
Minghao kind of looks entertained. “And here I thought you were just ghosting me.”
“No, not on purpose anyway,” you chuckle.
He’s still smiling softly as his eyes sweep across you. “You look good, Y/N. Dare I ask what brings you here though?”
You’re not sure what kind of answer he expects, but he turns sympathetic when you say, “I’m attending a funeral in a couple hours.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss. Let me help you find something,” he says, walking around the counter to meet you out in the open. He takes you to a particular shelf containing some muted flowers. “Can I ask who it’s for?”
“One of my managers. He was a sweet guy, always looking out for everyone, particularly the younger team members,” you answer, feeling the sadness creeping up again every time you think about it. You haven’t had to grieve very many people in this way, though you’d sort of grieved plenty of people you didn’t know. Minghao’s hand brushes your shoulder in comfort and you suck in a breath as the sound mutes just like it did six months ago. He must think he’s done something wrong, because he pulls back quickly, going back to business.
“Roses and Lillies are typical choices for something like this. You can’t really go wrong with it. Marigolds work too.” You wait because he doesn’t seem totally pleased with any of these options when you glance up at him. “These are from you alone?” You nod. He abruptly spins, walking to the other side of the shop and you follow. “These are hyacinths. The purple ones symbolize sorrow.” You look at the flowers in front you and then up to him questioningly. He gives you a bit of a rueful smile. “Your relationship with this sort of thing isn’t really typical. You need something a little special.”
You look up at him, blinking back tears. He might think it’s because of where you’re going later today, and it certainly contributes, but really you’re overwhelmed just like you were six months ago by how he just gets you. Your voice is a little watery when you say, “That sounds great.”
He arranges everything just so with a level of perfectionism that feels unmatched. You wonder if he puts that kind of work into every order. Perhaps he does. He seems like a meticulous personality, but you kind of wish this was something special for you and you feel selfish for the thought. When you pull out your wallet and ask how much you owe, he waves you off. “Minghao, please let me pay.” He stubbornly shakes his head, handing you the bouquet over the counter. You sigh, accepting them and holding them against your chest gently. “Thank you, Minghao.”
You aren’t ready to leave right this second and he must sense it. He walks around the counter, taking the bouquet from you and lying on the counter. Then he’s opening his arms to you and you don’t think twice falling into them. It’s not even the silence that is peaceful. It’s his scent and warmth and the way he gently rubs your back. When you eventually pull away, he beats you to drying your tears, hand lingering against your cheek.
The shop phone rings, the tone shocking you out of the moment. “I’m sorry, I should let you get back to work,” you say, pulling away from him. He lets his arms fall but he doesn’t rush for the phone, watching you grab the bouquet and make your way to the door. Your hand is on the door knob when he calls out your name.
“Don’t be a stranger. You know where to find me now.”
You smile and nod. You do know where to find him and you don’t know if he was ever really a stranger. You just don’t know what to do with any of that because the connection with him is scary in its intensity.
You don’t have time to think about it because you have to get to the funeral home.
Vernon nudges you awake sometime after 3am. You blink sleepily at him and you can already tell what he’s going to say because you’ve seen that face before. “Working again?” You mumble.
“Yeah. It was a lot this time. Scoot over,” he says simply. You do as he says and he plops down next to you. You feel yourself dozing off again, the effects of the medication you took before bed still strong in your system. You hadn’t made a habit of taking it, but you thought you might need some help tonight after spending the afternoon at a funeral home - aka a hotbed for ghosts. “It hasn’t been quite that bad in a while,” Vernon muses, making you jolt from sleep.
“Had to go to a funeral today. I think I have some stragglers,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes.
“Ah,” Vernon says like it makes all the sense in the world. Maybe it does to him, being on the other side of the veil.
“Vernon?” He hums. “Do you remember dying?”
He’s quiet for a long time. This is a topic that you don’t bring up often. He just doesn’t seem to want to talk about it. Eventually, he says, “Sort of.”
You look at him with hopeful eyes. “I’m not the only one with breaks from time?”
Vernon shakes his head. “No, you aren’t the only one.” He stares up at the ceiling for a while. “I remember drifting away. But I don’t remember a lot before that moment. One moment I’m with my friend and the next I’m staring up at a bunch of doctors and nurses, fading in and out.”
You blink at him in the darkness. In the nearly ten years that he’s been around, he’s never given this much information. “That must have been scary,” you mumble.
Vernon looks at you with an entertained smile. “It’s funny that you of all people should say that. The only difference is that you didn’t drift away for good.”
“Can I ask you something?” You say. He raises an eyebrow, probably biting back a comment that says you already have. “Do you know why you haven’t moved on yet?”
“Trying to get rid of me?” Vernon teases. You pin him with a look and he rolls his eyes. “Sorry, sorry.” Then he gets serious. “I don’t know. It’s not like I haven’t tried. It’s just out of reach and I don’t know why.”
You nestle into your pillow a little more, lost in thought. “I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head at you. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. Life keeps going, even when it looks a little different. Go back to sleep. I’ll be here.”
As you doze off again, you resolve that if you can ever figure out how to use this little gift, you’ll help him move on if he wishes. You just have to figure out how to do that first.
Some Saturday mornings, you’re so restless that while you’d love to be in bed asleep, that doesn’t happen. You give up trying to go back to sleep around 5:30am and get dressed for the day. You kind of like to walk it off while the city is still sort of asleep. So you slide on your headphones and start walking aimlessly.
You end up on the subway, riding for a while, then pick a stop at random really, getting off to walk the streets some more. Your mind is elsewhere and this isn’t quite the time loss that you and Jeonghan talk about all the time, but it’s certainly related. You don’t know where your mind is at when you end up in front of Minghao’s shop hours later.
It’s a nice morning now, a little breezy but sunny at nearly 10am. You study the front of the flower shop. The lights are on but the sign on the door is flipped to Closed. You turn, thinking about where to go next. Your head is a little fuzzy when you snap back to reality like this, like parts of your brain are still booting up, and you don’t hear the shop door open behind you, too busy thinking about which line you should get back on, or if you should just hike it now that it’s daylight. The sunlight would be good for you, probably.
“Y/N?”
You spin, wide eyes meeting Minghao’s. He’s propped the door open, maybe to let some fresh air in. He smiles like he did last week when you stopped in and surprised him, but the longer he looks at you, his face starts to shift in concern. If he had any smart ass comment or cheery good morning, he doesn’t say it because he must sense you’re a little off kilter. “Do you want to come in?”
Your feet carry you in without your mind really catching up. Minghao lets you ramble the store for a while, while he does some opening chores. You don’t hear him sneak up on you, but you know he did when the world goes quiet at the pressure of his hand on your shoulder.
“Why don’t you help me water some of these?”
You’re suddenly totally with it, looking sheepish. “Oh, I shouldn’t. I have absolutely no green thumb. It might actually be a danger to your business for me to even be here.”
His eyes crinkle when he smiles. You hadn’t noticed it before. Maybe he just hadn’t smiled like he is now. It’s relaxed and easy, soothing even. “I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t,” you snort. “At best, I’ll under-water it, and at worst I’ll drown it.”
He picks up a small watering can from one of the shelves, handing it to you. He lets go of your shoulder and your eyes widen because the sound doesn’t rush back, at least not how it often does with him. It’s not a 0 to 10 sort of thing today. It’s more of a 0 to 5 at most. Not that you even know what to say about it, but he’s leading you to one of the shelves by the window, pulling you out of your thoughts.
He keeps you busy most of the morning and you let him. A handful of customers trickle in, most for orders that are waiting for them already. You even handle a couple of those while Minghao consults with customers who aren’t sure what to buy.
The afternoon is quiet. He’s taught you how to properly trim stems so you both are working on that when he asks, “feel better?”
You feel so transparent around him, and normally that sort of thing would drive you up the wall, but you find it makes you feel safe with him. “Yeah, thank you for letting me hang out here.”
“My door is always open for you.” The ingenuity in his voice makes your throat clog up with emotion. “Do you wander like that often? You seemed kind of checked out.”
“Occasionally,” you say. “There are some gaps of time where I do that. I’ve been told it’s a stress response, but I don’t know.”
He’s quiet for a bit, but you know he’s not ignoring you. You know better than to think that. Whatever he says is always thoughtful. So you wait patiently, snipping stems.
“I thought about you, you know?” You glance up at him and he’s not really cutting anymore, stem and scissors loose in his hands. He must think you mean about your last night together and he shakes his head. “Not like that. At least not as much as I was worried about you. I left that retreat wanting to see you happy, not being weighed down by everything you experience.”
You always feel so fucking emotional with him. You suck in a shaky breath, busying yourself with another stem. “It’s gotten… better. Incrementally, at least. I’ve kind of resigned myself to not having a cure for this sort of thing, but it’s not quite as suffocating as it once was.” You stop yourself before you tell him how much of an impact he had in just a few days on that.
His gaze is sweet and you have to look away again, busying yourself with the next stem. You don’t know how many seconds, or even minutes, tick by before he finally says, “that’s great, Y/N. I’m really glad I met you.”
You give him a shy smile, hoping your eyes don’t shine as much as you feel that they do. “Me too, Minghao.”
Jeonghan gives a look that is crystal clear. That’s one thing about him, he does very little to mask what he’s thinking. He probably could (and he’d be far more ‘professional’ for it), but there’s something disarming about him choosing not to. It sort of takes the edge off of his typical bluntness when he speaks.
Minghao squirms under Jeonghan’s look, which makes Jeonghan’s mouth tip upwards even more. Minghao knows he’s in trouble when Jeonghan puts his notebook aside, settling into his seat with a sly smile.
“Xu Minghao is twitchy. This should be something,” Jeonghan muses, waving his hand expectantly. “Come on, tell me.”
Minghao pins him with a look. “I regret ever calling you and making an appointment. You’re actually the worst.”
Jeonghan snorts. “You think that offends me? Someone threw a pillow at me yesterday and that was the gentlest of threats during that session.”
“You probably deserved it,” Minghao bites, crossing his arms. “You like to mouth off.”
Jeonghan still looks highly entertained. “That’s what I was told then too.” He finally settles, smile dimming to something more appropriate for therapy. “Come on. What’s on your mind?” Minghao blinks a few times. Jeonghan narrows his eyes and then groans, rubbing a hand down is face. “What is it with you people shutting down on me in the first five minutes?”
“Try having some tact,” Minghao smarts, picking up a pillow to hold in his arms. Jeonghan watches him move into the defensive pose, an unusual look flashing across his face, before he shakes it off.
“Fine. Serious therapist face on now. What’s the deal today?”
“It’s kind of a long story,” Minghao dodges.
Jeonghan gives him a dry look. “You have an hour and you’re paying me to listen. So I have time.”
Minghao scoffs, looking anywhere but Jeonghan. He doesn’t like therapy. It requires divulging things that he feels are too personal, which he only does on the rarest of occasions. He knows that’s the entire point but it makes him squirm in a way that he normally never would. He sometimes forgets why he called and made an appointment almost two years ago, mostly because he clammed up in the first appointment and has stayed clammed up ever since.
He’s also not prone to blurting out things, but he just spits it out because it might drive him crazy to hold it in any longer. “Do you believe in soulmates?”
Jeonghan’s quiet for a few long beats and Minghao is afraid to look at him, opting to stare at a pot of fake flowers on Jeonghan’s bookshelf in the corner. Minghao keeps telling Jeonghan he’ll just bring some fresh ones in regularly and Jeonghan brushes him off every time. He thinks he might just do it one day without asking.
“I can’t say I’ve ever experienced something like that myself, but I’m kind of a fan of the concept. It’s pretty romantic. Why do you ask?”
“I met someone,” Minghao finds himself mumbling.
He doesn’t have to look at Jeonghan to know that he’s intrigued. “Oh? Recently?”
“Not exactly.” Minghao twirls the tassels of the pillow distractedly. “It was about six months ago. At that retreat. I ran into her again recently though.”
Jeonghan hums and Minghao sort of wishes he’d pick up the notebook again. He hates when he makes a ton of notes, but he thinks he hates it more when he completely abandons the concept of notes altogether. “Fascinating.”
“Try to seem less excited. You’re supposed to be sympathetic,” Minghao practically begs.
“You haven’t given me any information to be sympathetic about yet. And I wouldn’t think finding someone you consider your soulmate warrants sympathy, anyway. So I’ll need you to fill in the gaps here.”
Minghao isn’t really proud by how so not composed he is when he huffs, tossing the pillow aside and standing to pace. He feels Jeonghan watch him and Minghao’s sure he’s entertained. He’s never been a pacer in therapy, or really anywhere else in his life. He’s usually not even much of a talker. Jeonghan has to work pretty hard for the bits of information he does get in their sessions.
“I don’t think I’ve ever connected with someone like that before. It’s something really special. To me, at least.”
“And you said that you’ve run into her recently?”
“I didn’t think I’d see her again actually. I don’t even know her last name or what she does for a living or much of anything else because it never even came up. And then I didn’t hear from her after we left the retreat. And then she just walks into my shop one day six months later. We were both surprised.”
“Romantic, something out of a movie, really,” Jeonghan muses. “Is she into all the spiritualist stuff too?”
Minghao snorts. “Not really. At least, not much.”
“Why is that?” Jeonghan asks curiously.
Minghao wants to say more, wants to get it all off his chest, but it’s not his thing to share. “It’s hard to explain. But she started to come around to it at the end of the retreat.”
“And does she seem into you?”
The question shouldn’t blindside him the way it does, but he stops in his pacing. He rubs the back of his neck. He thinks you probably wouldn’t have slept with him that night if you weren’t at least a little into him. You don’t strike as the type to just do that. Not that it would be a problem, but you seem to like your space and a one night stand felt uncharacteristic. It makes him wonder why he seemed to be an exception.
Jeonghan calls his name and Minghao is pulled out of his daze. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Jeonghan’s smile is light, losing the look of pure entertainment from a few moments ago. He shrugs. “It’s worth exploring. I can’t make any comments on soulmates or anything.” He rolls his eyes, “but I’ve been researching some pretty interesting things lately, so… just see where it goes. What’s her name?”
“Y/N,” Minghao says, sighing a little, defeated. Jeonghan’s expression changes for only a flash before he is smiling lightly again.
“See where it goes. Not just anyone shakes the Xu Minghao.”
Minghao decides to take the leap. At some point today, anyway. When he works up the courage, that is.
It’s a slow day at the shop. All orders have been filled and he doesn’t expect a lot of business today since it’s the middle of the week. There will be a rush after most people start getting off of work, but until then he has nothing to do. No orders. No watering. No repotting.
That means he has all the time in the world to stare at your contact on his phone.
It’s a pretty new addition, just entered into his phone a couple weeks ago when you last visited. It was you who thought to ask and he was elated to give his number to you. But since trading numbers, he hadn’t heard from you. Hadn’t seen you either. Since the beginning of all this, he’d decided to let you come to him. You seem like you wouldn’t like the pressure of him pursuing you. But he was getting antsy to be in your presence again. He wishes he had something, anything to do to keep him from almost calling or texting. He can’t think of a single time that a woman had made him so… twitchy. That was the word that Jeonghan had used. He’d known he was in trouble the moment he met you that first morning at the retreat. Then he thinks maybe that’s not totally true and brushes it off, busying himself with moving pots here and there in the window just for the sake of something to do.
Minghao’s rewritten a single text a dozen times and finally feels satisfied enough to hit send when his phone buzzes and he almost drops it, heart racing. It’s a message from you. ‘Do you happen to be free tonight?’
It takes him an embarrassingly long time to reply because he needs some time to panic. Finally, he sends back, ‘You read my mind.’ He trades a few more messages with you to make plans.
Minghao closes up shop right at 5pm and rushes home to shower. His hands shake a little when he pulls up in front of your apartment building. He said he’d go up and get you when he was here, but he parks and turns off the car, just taking a breather. Pursuing this is simultaneously the best and the worst thing he could do. But he would be helpless to turn you down. He’s felt that way since he met you.
He jumps at a small ‘knock knock’ on his passenger window. It’s dark but he knows it’s you. He just knows. It’s so ridiculous how all his panic drains as you open the door and slide into the passenger seat, giving him a soft smile.
“Sorry, I got impatient,” you say sheepishly. Your words make all of his insides do little flips. You look pretty, hair pulled up in a ponytail away from your face. You’d followed his instructions, dressing warmly in thick leggings, a sweatshirt, and boots. You’re also wrapped in a puffy coat that swallows you. It makes him so fucking soft and he can’t believe you’re in his car right now. You reached out to him this afternoon to see him.
“That’s okay, I was just about to come and get you anyway,” Minghao answers, feeling sort of shy.
In the darkness, it seems like you might flush a little. It’s strange because you usually seem so unaffected by those sort of things. Until you two slept together on the last night of the retreat, he really assumed that things were one sided. He’s still not sure if you feel anything close to what he does, but he’s hooked regardless.
“What did you have in mind?” You ask gently.
Minghao blinks, coming back to reality. “I was thinking a night drive, maybe look at the stars.” He watches the corners of your lips turn up, eyes turning a little entertained. “Unless you don’t believe in that sort of thing either.”
You snort and he thinks it’s one of his favorite sounds. It’s the type of thing that couldn’t be attractive if anyone else did it, but he loves when you do it. “Hao, I’ll go look at the stars with you. You don’t even have to ask.”
Minghao can’t help the big smile that spreads across his face. This might be the first time he’s felt giddy. “Buckle up.”
Nearly an hour later, he parks in the middle of nowhere outside of the city. He meets you at the hood of the car with a blanket, holding your hand to help you climb on and lay down. When he’s laid down next to you and tossed the blanket across both of you, he finds that you’re already looking at him. Your hand lands on his chest at the exact same time that he throws out his arm for you to slide into. He suppresses a deep sigh once you’re curled up into his side with your head on his chest. His hand curls into your waist and he thinks this must be what peace feels like. It’s what he’s been after for years.
Minghao kind of thinks you might have dozed off when you surprise him by turning to look at the sky. “So what am I looking at here? Be my tour guide.” He tilts his head down to look at you and you meet his questioning look. A little playful pout falls onto your lips and he really has to resist kissing it off of you. “What? You were my tour guide at the retreat. You know about stars too, right?”
It’s his turn to snort. “Not that much, no. I just think it’s pretty.” You chuckle against his chest and you can probably feel how his heart races. But he still tells you want he knows. It eventually devolves into just finding your own shapes in the sky. But at some point, he realizes that you’ve stopped looking at the sky and are looking at him. He gives you a curious look because he doesn’t quite understand the expression on your face. It’s vulnerable but he doesn’t know what it means.
“Are you always this romantic?” You ask like it’s a serious question.
“No,” Minghao says automatically. “At least not like this.”
“Oh, so I’m special or something? You don’t take women out to look at the stars all the time?” You tease, grinning up at him.
He absolutely cannot help reaching out to brush your cheek. He likes how your eyelashes flutter at the touch. “You’re very special, and no, this would be the first.” He bites his tongue to keep from saying it will probably be the only one too. He can’t imagine doing something like this with anyone else. It would feel too hollow and performative - a strong attempt to be romantic, whereas with you, it’s effortless.
You still look vulnerable, your big eyes staring up at him, but there’s something sobering about your expression. “Hao? What’s happening here?”
That’s such a loaded question and it makes him hesitate. It’s not that he wants to be dishonest - far from it. But there are some things he just doesn’t know how to say yet, so he opts for something he knows is true. “It’s what you want it to be.”
“So you feel something then?”
Again, such a loaded question. “I feel a lot when it comes to you.” He brushes some baby hairs out of your face. “Do you?”
“Yeah,” you whisper.
“Oh, thank god,” Minghao sighs.
You aren’t totally sure how you got here. You and Minghao eventually get cold while laying on the hood of the car but aren’t ready to go home so you both climb in the back seat. As you warm up, it starts with taking off your coats, then your sweatshirts. And now you feel like you’re dripping sweat as you’re nearly naked in Minghao’s lap as he sits in the backseat.
The tone of this is different than that night at the hotel. It certainly doesn’t lack the intimacy and passion, but it does lack some of the gentleness he used last time. There’s even a tinge of desperation that makes your head spin. You’re enjoying it, the way he grips your hips and leaves some stinging bites on your neck and chest before soothing the sting with a sweet kiss or a soft sweep of his tongue. The back and forth of rough and sweet has you on the edge, gasping for air before he’s even felt how wet you are.
Minghao finishes sucking a bruise onto your collarbone, sighing against the sore spot between little kisses. “You sound so pretty. Do you feel good?”
Your mind is numb in the best way. Not only is it silent, but you couldn’t imagine thinking about anything besides him. Nothing else exists outside of this car to you at the moment. “Yes,” you mumble, gripping his shoulders as he starts another bruise on your breast this time. “Can I have you?”
He groans against your breast, his fingers digging into your hips roughly. “You already have me.”
Last time was slow, almost painfully so. This time, it’s painful how much time it takes to yank his sweats and boxers down to his thighs and to pull your panties to the side. He maneuvers you by the hip, helping you slide down on him. The deep sigh that he lets out into your ear rattles our brain and when you’re fully seated, the rush from moments ago is gone. Like last time, he stays buried inside of you, totally still. You fold into his neck and his arms wrap around you tightly, hands soothing up and down your back. You wonder if it will always end up being less about the sex and more about the intimacy with him. He took you to the sky last time, of course, but what you remembered the most in the months that passed since then was the way that he held you close like this.
You have no idea how long you sit in his lap like that. It’s only when you place a mindless kiss on his neck that the fire lights up in you again. The moment your lips hit his neck, you feel the little vibration of the sound he holds back. You place a few more kisses there, testing the waters. But the moment he tilts his head to give you more access, you’re all over him. As you kiss and suck spots onto his neck, you feel him tensing under you - his shoulder under your hand raises a bit, his fingers dig into your waist, his cock twitching inside you as his hips jerk up on occasion. It makes you grind a little and you love how he becomes putty in your hands. A moan falls from his lips and it spurs you on, lifting your head to press your lips onto his. His tongue dips into your mouth as you lift your hips and lower again, starting a slow rhythm.
Your thighs ache when he finally pulls away from your lips to whisper against your lips, “I’m close.”
“Come inside, I’m on the pill.”
The words seem to light a fire. His eyes pinch closed and his hand flies into your skewed underwear to rub your clit. It all has you gasping, tears pricking your eyes at the overwhelm. “Please come. I’ll come with you.”
The promise throws you over the edge, back arching. His hands slam you down to take him deeply and he holds you there, burying his face in your neck as he comes. The feeling is totally consuming, just like everything else with him.
When you both have come down some, you both relax. He slumps back into the seat and you slump into him. You both have long caught your breath and the sweat has started to dry when you chuckle against the skin of his neck.
“What?” He asks sweetly.
“This will sound stupid. But does this mean we’re together?”
You’re sort of afraid to look at him, but he doesn’t make you. You feel his heart underneath your hand and it makes you feel better that you aren’t the only one. His hands sweep up and down your back in a way that you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of. “That’s what I’d like. Do you want that?”
You place a little kiss on his neck. “Yeah,” you whisper. “That’s what I want.” You swear you feel him sigh underneath you.
Minghao is laying in your bed next to you. It’s become a habit over the last month or so since getting together. He likes being in your space and you must like it too because you’ve already given him a key. When you did, he asked if you were sure and you’d given him this look that he still can’t figure out before insisting.
He kind of feels like he’s floating with you. He gets the stuff that kept him grounded out of the way - he knows your full name, and what you do for a living, and where you’re from. All those things that you both would already know if you had more than a couple minutes of normal chitchat when you first met. But truly, your surname doesn’t matter, and neither does your job or where you’re from. Nice to know, sure, but your answers would have had very little impact on how consuming his feelings for you were becoming.
You both had dinner together tonight and he agreed to stay over. It’s really his favorite thing, the domesticity of it all. He thinks he’ll never get tired of it. Like now, you’re curled up into his chest, snoring softly. You say you get better rest when he’s here. He does too, even though his night is no less active than usual.
When he dozes off, he knows the moment that he slips away from his body. It’s happened enough times over the years that he knows it’s not just simple dreaming. Jeonghan calls it drifting. Minghao remembers how perplexed he’d been at his therapist’s word choice, but Jeonghan wouldn’t budge. Maybe it was because things like lucid dreaming or astral projecting didn’t fit into his textbooks or any version of the DSM, at least not in any sort of diagnosable way. Minghao knew that dreaming was really a huge question mark for psychologists, so he had resigned himself to Jeonghan or any other therapist not really being able to fix his issue.
The drift looks different every time, like he’s standing in a different spot in the room every time. This time, he’s right where he fell asleep, in bed next to you. He can’t feel you curled up next to him, though he can see you. But he sees other things when he drifts.
At the moment, that’s Vernon, sitting at the desk watching the TV on mute. It’s not the first time he’s seen Vernon. “Do you ever leave?”
Vernon snaps his head in Minghao’s direction, a guarded expression on his face. “Yes, quite often actually.” He whispers. Minghao doesn’t quite know why he does that, but he thinks maybe Vernon is afraid of waking you up. Minghao still doesn’t understand everything, but it seems like people like you can peek into other planes. Vernon had likened it to a building. He’s upstairs, but when Minghao drifts, he drifts upstairs through the ceiling, usually without meaning to. And you, well… you know exactly where the stairs are whether you realize it or not.
“And you check up on my girlfriend all the time, why?” Minghao prods.
Vernon rolls his eyes, turning back to the TV. “I’ll have you know that I’ve been visiting her for nearly ten years. You’re the one that’s truly new here.”
“Do you have a crush or something?” Minghao teases, ignoring the unsettled feeling in his stomach.
Vernon rolls his eyes again. “You know, I’ve hated you since I met you.” Minghao rolls his eyes back. “No, I don’t have a crush. It’s just that I’d consider her a friend and I worry about her.” Vernon crosses his arms, leaning back into the chair. “Plus, I can’t move on, so…”
Minghao doesn’t quite know what to say because that’s pretty far outside of his wheelhouse, no matter how spiritual he is. Vernon stands, turning off the TV and stretching. “Leaving?”
“Yeah,” Vernon says. “You guys are gross and I’m not needed anyway.”
“Not needed?” Minghao echoes, confused.
Vernon gives him a look that says, ‘are you stupid?’ “There’s no line. She’s actually sleeping. Seems to be something you can handle, so that means I’m going for a walk.”
Minghao blinks as Vernon leaves, looking around the room. Huh. There is no line. He wonders how long that’s been the case. He doesn’t drift far from his body, just in case.
It’s on a Sunday in late November when it clicks for Minghao. He’s at your apartment again. The shop is closed today so you and Minghao take it slow this morning. It starts with the sex. He thinks calling it sex is too crass. It doesn’t capture the depth of the moment accurately. He laughs to himself a little as he’s washing your hair in the shower afterwards because ‘making love’ doesn’t feel like it really comes close either. You think he’s laughing at how you’re squinting to keep soap out of your eyes and you scold him lovingly without even looking at him. It doesn’t click then.
You guys make breakfast together. Since you both have the time you make a big spread, not just some toast. He listens to you chatter the whole time. He thinks he would have never gotten to the point where you talk the way you do with him now. You were so tightlipped when he met you. But he thinks he’d never get tired of the sound of your voice. It doesn’t click then.
You wash the dishes while he dries them. He makes a smart ass comment and you flick some water at him. The air is sweet, overwhelmingly so, and he really can’t help the grin that’s spread across his face. He gets the cheesy phrases that he used to roll his eyes at. Weak in the knees. Heart racing. Brain empty except for anything to do with you. Head over heels. That last one in particular always made him chuckle, but he gets it now and never wants to not feel that way again. It doesn’t click then.
It’s chilly, but you guys decide to grab your coats and go for a walk. It’s brief but he holds your hand the entire time. When you guys settle in again at your apartment, he goes to make some tea. You both sit on the couch and watch the TV on a low volume, drinking your tea. When both mugs are empty, you throw back your blanket and lay down, opening your arms to him. His brain stalls out. This is when it clicks.
There’s some emotion bubbling up in him and his eyes prick with tears that he tries to blink back. He likes taking care of you and protecting you. Likes how you seem to feel secure around him when that seems to be sort of uncommon for you. But when you look at him like that, offering him a warm place to lay under the blanket with you… well, it crushed him in the best way possible.
Minghao crawls to lay half on top of you, face pressed into your neck. Your arms fold around him and then the blanket comes around you both. That emotion might eat him alive, especially as you start to comb your fingers into his hair.
“I love you.” Your fingers stop in his hair and he can feel your pulse quicken under his lips. “I’m in love with you. I don’t think it could ever be like this with anyone else.”
You pull back, making him meet your eyes, and his body floods with relief that there’s just as much emotion swimming in your eyes. “I love you too. In love with you. Nothing will ever compare for me either.”
You both meet in the middle, kissing sweetly. Then his face is back in your neck and your fingers are combing through his hair again.
He says it at least ten more times that day, if only because he needs you to know how much he means it. You say it back and kiss him every time.
Jeonghan looks up from his computer when Hana enters his office with a soft knock. She doesn’t look happy to see him, but he isn’t really surprised by that. He’s kind of surprised she hasn’t quit yet, honestly. The downside of dating your receptionist, he guesses. When you break up, things get awkward.
“I’m heading out,” she says curtly. “Are you staying?”
He bites back a smart ass comment like ‘obviously’, because she has her puffy winter coat on and her bag on her forearm and he’s buried in handwritten notes to type up. Obviously, she’s leaving and he’s staying. But he doesn’t need to give her another reason to hate him. So he nods evenly. “Yeah, I’m going to finish some things up. Go home and have a good night. Be careful.”
There’s a little flash of emotion that she masks almost right away. Their breakup wasn’t bad exactly, but she’d been much more into him than he had been into her. It felt unfair to string her along, so he cut it off as kindly as possible. He didn’t blame her for being bitter and he certainly didn’t blame her for feeling a plethora of emotions bubble up when they did have to interact. He’d be in the wrong profession if that sort of thing bothered him.
Eventually, Hana nods. “Don’t stay too late. I’ll lock the front door behind me.” And with that, she’s gone.
He finishes up the stack of patient notes and sighs, turning off the overhead lights and opting for his desk lamp. He grabs a glass and bottle of alcohol from his bottom desk drawer. It’s been one of those days, otherwise he wouldn’t reach for such a vice. He talks to clients all day about bad habits, and tries to not be a hypocrite when he almost lectures them. But the first sip takes the edge off, so he finishes that drink and pours another. He’ll need it because he’s been putting this off.
The file is buried under a bunch of things on the corner of the desk. He got it weeks ago and has been hesitant to pull it out so it got buried. The tab on the file folder has a date of nearly a decade ago. He takes a deep breath and flips it open.
He likes a mystery, mostly because he likes to toot his own horn when he’s smart enough to solve said mystery. But this one hasn’t been straight forward, not by a long shot. He needed more information, so he made a few calls.
He kind of feels like he’s swimming in the deep end when he finally opens the file and picks up the first page inside. Your name is at the top of it, amongst others.
It really is what you said it was. A not-so-freak accident in bad weather. No driver was deemed at fault because it’s described that even emergency vehicles and tow trucks had a hard time that night getting to the location of the crash.
Vehicle descriptions are also there. Your black sedan and as well as a tan sedan. That last detail sends a little chill up his spine when he reads it. Occasionally, he doubts your ability, but according to the report, there should have been no way you knew it was a tan car because you were indeed unconscious when emergency personnel responded. But you did under hypnosis.
He wonders if you’ve seen this report, but he thinks better of it because you’re so avoidant of everything to do with this situation. He thinks about the months that you dodged even addressing it beyond, “I got into a car accident.” He’d had to put in some serious work for you to even tell him how you felt about that accident.
Objectively, looking at the pictures, he thinks everyone involved could have died. Jeonghan wonders if he should bring any of this up. Your appointment is tomorrow.
He closes the file, stashing it away in a desk drawer, and finishing his drink. He feels kind of bitter because he’d hoped the contents of the folder would hold all the answers.
That night, he sleeps restlessly, eventually giving up and opening his laptop. There must be 20 tabs open and he flips between them, well beyond laughing to himself about him, a psychologist, browsing metaphysical sites and articles about psychic abilities, active dreaming, and… soulmates. This whole thing makes him want to scream.
He resolves to have you try hypnosis again tomorrow. There are dots he can’t connect and he needs you to help him, if only so it saves his sanity.
#minghao#xu minghao#the8#minghao x reader#xu Minghao x reader#the8 x reader#seventeen#svt#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#smut
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You had found a reality altering app that could make anyone you targeted bigger. Not thinking it would work you jokingly requested the app to make your perfect girlfriend 1,000001 times curvier over the course of a year. Now everyday, her ass and boobs become way bigger than she already was. Retroactively doors become wider, clothing becomes stretchier, and she's become more famous. You check the app again to see what went wrong. It turns out the app never registered the comma in your request, meaning over the course of a year she will grow a million and one times larger. She doesn't even seem to realise how the world around her changes to accomodate all her curves. Looking down at yourself, you realize those accomodations are also extending to you. There is a reason you're still her boyfriend after all, you're the only one big enough to fit her.
Check in what went wrong? I think it's more like checking in what went right! Why didn't we think of this before? With an app as powerful as that, that could supposedly really alter reality, there's really no point in just going with such a tiny number, instead of making massive changes that really showcase just how much power that thing had.
Also...with just doorways and clothes adapting to her growth, then the expansion is starting off slow and she's absolutely about to have some gigantic growth spurts - because a 1,000,001 times bigger over a year means an average growth of 2739.73 times bigger than her original size per day, rounded up... so if she's only doubling in size every day, there's a LOT of growth to be had. Like a LOT.
She's even saying that something has changed in me, like how huge I am, even if I don't feel anything different! I only meant for her to grow, although apparently there were options that extended to pleasure rates and things like that, which I just kept at default when doing that funny little expansion number that 'backfired' in a very good way...
I can't wait to see how reality will adapt itself to how gigantic WE will be. Everything will have to change to acommodate millions of pounds of hyper endowed flesh, the most absurd curves seemingly possible...and that's if she doesn't find out about the app and do something with it...or if I don't decide that she's not growing fast enough~
I wonder if we're going to become bigger than mountains, how reality will possibly rotate around us when we get to such crazy sizes... Maybe they'll start selling or giving us free compression clothes so that we can be at more manageable sizes, and maybe we just get teleported to an empty spot whenever we take them off as to not destroy everything directly next to us in a quite large radius.
Maybe there'll be mountains themselves dedicated to us and our size, where we can head inside without any issues... Like imagine skyscrapers just becoming mountain ranges because that needs to be the new norm for the world to adapt to us.
As for clothes, I'm totally fine with having impossibly stretchy, basically infinite fabric covering us, if it feels good and looks nice, though going naked is always fun, and I'm sure society won't mind one bit, especially at our size...assuming they even notice and think it's something out of the ordinary, because reality might have been warped in a way that it's normal to them too...
Now, to add more zeroes to the end of that 1,000,001....
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You know the further I analyze Millie's reactions to all of this the more I'm becoming convinced something is up about this pregnancy thats got her worried and it's not her job. Lest we forget my dear helluvians Millie comes from a big family and I dont think her fears about moxie finding out she's pregnant are because she's nervous about taking care of it or not being able to afford to. Worst comes to worst she could ask her family for help with the child as many large families do. Oh they (her parents) would be insufferable to be sure but having to deal with family shouldn't invoke the kind of panic she had when she found out she was with child. And moxie has shown that he's willing to put up with anything for the sake of his wife, as all good men do. So why the fear? I stand by my initial belief the child is not Moxie's but for the sake of peace let us analyze other potential reasons why she is so terrified.
It has been proposed that perhaps millie was pregnant before and the pregnancy did not end well, and as a result she's terrified of going through that again. Okay... maybe. But if so then that would suggest she and moxie talked about it because they are in fact a loving couple with healthy communication and would certainly have talked about, and taken precautions to, avoid a pregnancy were there still any difficulties both biological and psychological afflicting millie. Still, one glass of wine too many one night after dinner and maybe they just forgot to prepare properly before they got down to China town as folks used to say. That would be the best case scenario. And one most folks seem to assume because not many people want to even entertain the idea that this happily married couple could have relationship problems arise because their relationship is their emotional comfort food and the idea of that being ruined is too much for them.
Another possibility is Moxie may not have been comfortable with the idea of having children. Understandable as his father is even worse than stella. So perhaps the idea of him turning into his father were he to have a child of his own would make sense however... I don't see Moxie being so upset about fathering a child that he abandons millie, that's just not the sort of man Moxie is. Inspite of it all he clearly takes more after his mother and from what I can tell his mother was a very loving parent which means Moxie blowing up at millie for being pregnant in this scenario is... unlikely.
Getting back to the money side of things, them not making enough to support a child I will confess this has more credit than the other theories but it still has a ton of holes in it. First off she did not tell her husband she was pregnant first. She called her sister first... for advice. She diddnt go to moxie first and alert him right away that something was wrong or that they had a serious matter to discuss. Hell she had to affirm to him that she loved him with zero context and let's face it the phrase "you know I love you, right?" Is the sort of line most folks tell a loved one when they've really screwed up and that screw up is going to hurt them badly. But let's say its still just a case of being able to afford raising a child. The fact she hasn't told Moxie ANYTHING is still a giant red flag. Because if it is his child why all this cloak and dagger business? Why not pull him aside at the party and let him know? Why is she keeping him in the dark about a child he had a hand in fathering? If the child is his and she's terrified of telling him that would suggest something rather sinister wouldnt it? But we know the man, if anything having a child he could share his love of musicals with seems more the sort of reaction he'd have after vomiting from nervousness wouldnt it?
And yet.... he knows nothing. He's being told nothing. Two people know about this kid and he's not one of them. A discussion is being had about this kid and he's not being included in it. Why? The only conclusion that seems logical to me after assessing their personalities and analyzing the type of relationship that they have... is that the child is not his. And millie is terrified of him finding out and leaving her because let's face it no man will ever take news of infidelity well, no matter how open minded he may actually be (unless he's into voyerism but again that seems unlikely in moxies case and even then her getting pregnant would not be a surprise even if it were). All evidence points to something having happened that did not involve moxie.
Now I want to clarify I dont think millie had an affair, an affair is what happens when the heart is divided between two lovers and one of them is ignorant of the others existence. I dont see millie doing that. But... this is hell and bad habits are everywhere and one night at the wrong bar at the wrong time can do a lot of damage if your drunk enough... RIGHT BLITZ? And lest we forget millie told her sister that she messed up, not "we messed up".
I know a lot of people feel strongly about this but we must brace ourselves, dear readers, for the possibility that this marriage may be about to go through a very rough time and could possibly not survive. Hell... is not the kind of place that takes kindly to happiness. Because if it did, it wouldnt be hell anymore would it?
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I think the reason many people don’t fully recognize Luke stealing Driftmark as the usurpation that it is is that the show pushes this narrative of Beala and Rheana (and the Velaryons) being somehow compensated for this massive injustice and violation of the laws of inheritance by being betrothed to the strong boys.
 However, what these people don’t realize is that first of all; Luke being betrothed to Rheana is in no way a guarantee for the Velaryons that their blood will rule their family seat seeing as Luke and Rheana might not have children together and if Rheana where to die in childbirth without having a son, Luke would be free to marry the next woman he sees and make their sons the next rulers of Driftmark. That’s not a good deal by any means. 
Furthermore, for some reason, some people think that being the ruling lady of Driftmark is the same thing as being the wife of the lord of Driftmark which couldn’t be further from the truth.
As wife of the Lord of Driftmark Rhaena would have zero power over her ancestral home. The only “power” she would have is knowing that her son will be the next lord of Driftmark.
That is no where near comparable to being the ruling lady of the second most powerful house in the realm. That is the same thing as saying that Rhaenyra should simply have been married to Aegon to be his queen consort and it would have been the same thing as being Queen in her own right.
The same thing goes for Beala (i’m not exactly sure which one of them is older and would have inherited Driftmark under fair conditions, but I’m assuming it’s her since she did a whole apprenticeship with Rhaenys to learn how to rule the place) as Queen consort the only power she’s guaranteed is being the mother of the next king. If she managed to produce a son. That is not at all comparable with the power she would have gotten as heir to Driftmark. 
And lastly, many say that Rhaenys agreeing to the betrothal and confirming Luke as heir in the ninth episode somehow justifies everything and while I have a lot of issues with the not so very intelligent portrayal of Rhaenys’ character in the show  she would’ve had to have been the most stupid person on the entire earth to stand against Viserys favorite child once that corpse crawled out of bed.
I think everyone knew that it was game over as soon as Viserys entered the room because there is no way in hell he would’ve reacted any differently to Rhaenys saying that her husband wishes for Beala or Rhaena or even Veamond to be heir then he did too Veamond saying it. Even if she would’ve worded it differently the meaning would still have been the same. it’s a confirmation of the strong boys illegitimacy and therefor treason.
Realizing that I think she tried to reach for what she still could by agreeing to the betrothals because sure some powerless titles for her granddaughters are still better than nothing but the people that think she could have said anything against Rhaenyra at that point without facing consequences are insane.
#pro team green#anti team black#anti team black stans#anti rhaenyra targaryen#anti daemon targaryen#pro alicent hightower#anti viserys i targaryen#justice for the velaryons#anti lucerys waters#anti Jacerys Waters
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