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horrorisunknowntoyou · 2 years

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[Simon "Ghost" Riley x Wife!-Reader] Headcanons

A/n: my birthday is today! so I wrote this as a treat for myself. I been hella sick and unwell so yeah :) also there's a lack of fluff and domestic stuff so I'm here to provide! + Birthday stuff at the end! 🎂 🎉

TW// dark topics, mentioned of Simon's trauma and mental illness, It's like brief.

Song recommendations:

Somewhere Only We Know - Keane

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You been married to Ghost for a long time, hell the task force didn't even know you existed until later this year or so.

Your meeting with your husband's buddies/co-workers (?) was quite a pleasant suprised.

Captain price was a lovely fellow, very much the father figure of the group. But he can be very cruel if need be.

Soap was.... interesting, you understand why your husband both love/hate the guy. But he was definitely fun to talk to. He was the most surprised to see you.

Gaz was a sweetheart, nice young man. Funny definitely. Didn't talk much.

Laswell was nice, she seem like the cool aunt type to drink wine or something.

But they definitely were surprised at the revelation that Ghost was married. Which isn't surprising considering the type of man he is.

(also you definitely showed the team your guys wedding photos/videos much to Ghost's protest.)

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But speaking of marriage, you been married to Ghost for around 5ish years. You met him by chance during an errand. It was really cliche, you accidentally bumped into him. And he was very awkward, and kinda stood their staring at you. You just laughed it off.

In some sense, you two were polar opposites that was interchangeable. He was the moon and you were the sun, etc. You balance each other out.

Also if it isn't obvious, both of you have some sense of dark humor. His was more shitty dad jokes and yours was offensive ones or very niche references to stuff. *Cough." Tumblr "Cough."

Also considering your husband, you were used to his interest in the morbid or macabre. Of course you had to tell him to dial it down so it doesn't hurt him. Specifically his interest in live leak. Also cause you didn't want to see that.

You were also the only person who could properly calm him down, or deal with his anger issues. Reminding him, it's fine to take a step away to breathe. Of course in the beginning it was hard but, you learn to understand him well.

You knew his triggers, his traumas and fears, of course it took ALOT of time and trust for him to even tell you this. But he slowly open himself to you and vice versa.

Also one of his bad habits, be it anger issues, but he sometimes unintentionally gaslight you. You know it means no harm but sometimes it can get overwhelming or lead up to fights. He tries his best not to do it often.

He may not be a great person for comfort, mainly sitting besides you or awkward hugs. But it's obvious he tries his best and that's enough for you.

And he's very protective of you considering what he's been through.

He trained you to defend yourself and how to use a firearm in emergencies just in case. It helps put his minds in ease. But as mentioned earlier, due to his anger issues. He will have the urge to fight anyone who upsets you or hurts you. That's the only time you can't hold him back much to your pleas.

But at the same time, you, yourself is highly protective of him. Of course he's more then capable to defend himself afterall he's a highly experienced military man. Who's 6'4 and 200+ pounds, but even so you will protect him. After all you love him with all your heart. Of course being a civilian, there's not much you can do but you try. And I think that's enough for him.

Also both of you have this weird complex of "I'll put my life aside for my significant other." You both definitely need to work on it.

He also knows your triggers and issues, he doesn't fault you for it. Be it whatever you suffer from, he's always willing to help you, or at least something to lean on.

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Domestic life between the two of you is interesting.

First things first, Simon wears his mask even at home. He doesn't show his face often and you don't really mind it. As it just became part of him in some sense.

However he has to do face mask with you to make sure 1. His face is handled and cleaned, 2. To wash his masks and hoodies he wears. It makes you cringe at how dirty his mask are.

You two also sometimes play videogames, funny enough first person shooters. You suck at it though, your not terrible but Simon dies inside when your aim is shit. However you force Simon to play Just Dance with you so that's a win in your book!

Also chores between the two of your are planned out before hand so not much issues between that, but if you both are tired you just order out take out lol.

Also surprisingly, Simon's a really good cook he's just lazy or pretends to suck because he doesn't want soap to know. lol

You both have your own specialized mugs to drink tea or coffee in it.

Simon likes to play and brush your hair, it kinda calms him down. He sometimes braid it or style it. You have no idea why he knows how to do this but you ain't complaining.

Simon is also a HUGE sucker for cuddles, either be it sleeping or laying down in the couch. But specifically in bed he's either sleeping as if he's in a casket or he's holding you protectively around his arms. No in-between.

In the more colder months, even though you have your own hoodies, Ghost allows you to wear one his. It engulfs you and it's very comfortable to be in.

But you, you love spoiling Simon. It being some expensive knife he wanted or little charm to add on his weapon. The glee in his eyes make it worth it at times, especially the slight hints of red brushed on him. Of course you respect his boundaries and not overdo it.

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During Ghost's deployment he likes to keep a picture of you, either a simple picture within his pocket or a locket he hear around his neck.

Same goes for you, you mainly have a picture of him sleeping peacefully while watching TV as your wallpaper, You smile at it every time.

You also have a Polaroid that you keep on deck in your wallet. It has a little note on the back from Ghost. It's cute.

You even have your own version of his skull mask for you too wear, if you feel lonely when he's away weeks at a time.

He does worry his work will put you in harms way or affect you negativity. It plagues his mind and it makes it hard for him to sleep in his cot or wherever.

You do get lonely while he's away, but you manage it.

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+ [Birthday stuff!] Characters are ooc lmao

When it's your birthday, Simon is alot more soft around you. He truly does care about you, and thankful for you in his life.

You usually have a small birthday party at your guys house with the task force (and some people of your choosing ) Especially, by now you really grew accustomed to them and it felt like a family to you.

You knew the first time round, they definitely struggled, as it was a surprise party. And Soap and Ghost were arguing over the placement of the banner.

Price was absolutely tired but gaz and Laswell (+ her wife) kept you distracted so you didn't even notice much to his relief.

Eventually Ghost sort it out, much to Soap nagging.

And when gaz and others brought back you were surprised with a birthday party.

You were so happy, you almost cried at how sweet everyone is. You were so thankful for this.

You had alot of fun with everything, they absolutely tried, it was like birthday party mixed potluck. It was fun!

There was also a bunch of moments you remembered.

One, Soap got drunk lmao. After the pinatas in which Gaz got most of the candy in his sweater, Soap starting doing some karaoke thing. He was singing California girls. The best thing though, you recorded it and you can see in video Ghost giving him a death stare.

You and Gaz did rock, paper, scissors over shots. You don't drink but it was fun till price like any father figure immediately stops it before it goes out of hand.

Also did you guys get a bounce castle knowing very well you all are grown adults? Yes.

You have alot of videos of it, mainly ghost and soap wrestling each other in the castle. Even though ghost refused to at first but soap pissed him off lol.

Laswell and price mainly stated out there.

You however joined in, and almost gave Ghost a heart attack when you grapped the roof part of the bouncy castle and got lifted up. He immediately pulled you down.

Gaz was the kid who mainly stated in the corner on his phone. But he did join in for a couple of games.

After that mess, you guys did the birthday cake. It was you favorite cake with white candles. And you say at the center of the table, and smiled.

They sang happy birthday and you blew out your candles.

Opening presents was a mess, you had alot of presents, that you didn't expect. Ghost obviously gave them tips what to get you.

You have alot of photos/videos of you opening the gifts.

Overall it was a really fun! You were the second person to fall asleep. Soap was asleep on the couch, you fell asleep on the recliner hidden in a hoodie.

Gaz fell asleep on two party chairs like it was normal. The rest either left or talked.

Overall you had a really fun night.

Also Ghost definitely teased you the next day over the stupid shit you did. But he's happy you enjoyed it.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x female reader

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karmic-vibes · 2 years

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If I Can Dream

16 - Too Much Rain

art credit: @lazylittledragon on tumblr/lazyjunebug on twitter

cw: mentions of divorce

Year: 1992

Pattie and John finalized their divorce in January of 1992. Per their lawyer, they had to try couples therapy, amongst a few other things, prior to their official split. When nothing took, they officially called it quits.

While John never came around quite like Pattie did, he still tried addressing everyone by their proper names and pronouns. He never stopped by or gave anyone the time of day, but when he remembered, he would send birthday gifts or vague holiday cards to try and act like he cared (mainly to spite Pattie, showing her she wasn’t the only involved grandparent).

But, Pattie didn’t care. She had finally connected with her son and her granddaughter—she couldn’t care less what her ex-husband did.

Pattie often found herself stopping by once every weekend to bring the boys a meal and a little gift for Bobby. Since tensions had been resolved, Pattie hadn’t misgendered Eddie or even slipped up on his deadname. She addressed and introduced him as her son’s husband and Bobby’s father. She earned strange looks from people who think the way she used to, but it was second nature to her at this point.

Her son was married to a man, who also fathered her granddaughter. Totally normal, right?

Ever since she left John, she could give two shits about what others perceived as “normal”—she loved her new, free life and she’d be damned if anyone took that from her. For the first time in her adult life, she was happy—she didn’t care about the rest.

One weekend when Pattie dropped by, Eddie was getting his belongings together to head over to The Hideout for his weekly gig. Corroded Coffin hadn’t performed nearly as much since Bobby was born, but his band mates didn’t mind—they all understood where Eddie’s priorities were.

“Alright, I’m heading out!” Eddie called.

“Good luck tonight, Ed,” Pattie chirped.

“Thanks, mama.”

That was a newer development—mama. Eddie had never been close with his own mother, so once Pattie started coming around more often, she very quickly took on a motherly role for her son-in-law. He called her mom or mama, and she had an array of pet names for him that she used interchangeably.

In all honesty, it made Steve sick to his stomach hearing how gushy they were towards each other, but he figured it was better that it was happening to Eddie rather than him.

“Do you have everything?” Steve asked.

“I think so. What would I be missing?”

“I don’t know, you’re forgetful,” Steve shrugged.

“Well, if I forget something, then I’ll just call you and make you come down to The Hideout. Sound good?”

“No.”

“Great. Love you.”

“Hate you too, stupid.”

The two quickly kissed each other as Eddie ran out the door. Bobby was put to bed about an hour ago, so Eddie had covered all his goodnight bases for the evening.

“I should probably head out, too,” Pattie sighed as she slipped her coat on. “It was a pleasure, Stevie.”

“Always nice to see you, mom. See you next weekend?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Later that night, when Eddie got home from his gig, he burst into his bedroom and started bouncing on the bed, urging Steve awake. Steve grumbled to himself and hesitantly turned over to face Eddie.

“For the love of god, what, Edward?” Steve mumbled.

“Guess what!”

“No.”

“Steven Michael, guess!”

“No! Now shut up before you wake the beast down the hall.”

“Please, just one guess.”

“For the last time, no.”

“You’re no fun.”

Steve sighed and rolled back over, burying himself in their covers. Eddie straddled his husband and ripped the covers from his face. Steve hissed at the cool air and eventually gave up, caving to his spouse’s antics.

“How many guesses do I get?” Steve whined.

“Three.”

“I’m only guessing once.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“I don’t know, Eddie, for god’s sake, I want to sleep!”

“Come on!” Eddie started bouncing up and down.

“You better behave, I swear on my life.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Regardless, I’m too tired to deal with you.”

“Come on! Guess!”

“I don’t know—you bought the bar?”

“No! We got a gig as openers at the Hoosier Dome next weekend!”

“What‽” Steve was suddenly jolted awake in excitement. “You’re bullshitting me.”

“I would never,” Eddie guffawed.

“You’re really playing at the biggest arena in the state?”

“Sure am,” he smiled proudly. “You and Bobbs get to come backstage and all that. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Won’t it be past her bed– what the fuck am I saying? Screw her bedtime—she gets to see her father perform at the dome! Ugh, I’m so proud of you, Eds! Who’re you opening for?”

“Oh, no one big—just Gun N’ Roses,” Eddie said nonchalantly.

“Eds, that’s huge!”

Steve cheered as he pulled his sweaty husband down for a kiss. Eddie held onto Steve’s face and deepened their kiss, reducing it to teeth and tongues. Eddie rutted his hips into Steve, but Steve held onto him, holding him in place.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry, but I’m so tired. Maybe tomorrow, okay?”

“But Stevie,” Eddie whined.

“What, Eds?”

“We haven’t had sex in ages… making me think you don’t find me attractive anymore.”

“Okay, first and foremost, that’s asinine. You’re literally a smoke show—always have been, always will be. Second, I know, it’s killing me too, but Bee has been running me into the ground. She’s just at that age where she has endless energy. You can understand that, can’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah… but even when she was a baby, and we were going days without sleeping, we still did stuff,” he pouted.

“Ed, ‘stuff’ was just you giving me head.”

“Yeah, and? You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Do you not like how I give head?”

“What? No, I… what?”

“It’s a simple question.”

“Eddie, there’s nothing wrong with how you suck my dick, okay?”

“So, like… can I, then?”

“Eddie, for the love of all that is holy, it is three in the morning. Please, for my sanity, let me sleep.”

“It’ll take like five minutes.”

“Hey! I don’t finish that fast.”

“Oh, Stevie,” Eddie smirked, cocking his head to the side.

“I don’t!”

“You have since we had the baby.”

“No… that can’t be true… can it?”

“It can be and it is. However, if you’re up for a challenge–”

“Okay, yeah, more so because I want to prove you wrong.”

Eddie chuckled to himself as he started shimmying Steve’s boxers down. The couple became intimate for the first time in ages and, much to Steve’s dismay, Eddie’s point had been proven right.

“Stevie, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. It’s infuriating. I had no idea I lost so much stamina!”

“It’s okay! Just an excuse to practice a bit more—get your times up,” Eddie teased.

“Very funny, Ed,” Steve scoffed.

“Listen, my offer with pegging still stands if you’re ever feeling lazy and just wanna lay there. Wouldn’t have to worry about anything.”

“Okay, we were talking about how I can’t last longer than five minutes. How on earth did you go from there to pegging?”

“I dunno.” Eddie shrugged as he cuddled up to Steve.

“No, you do know.”

“Didn’t you want to go to sleep?”

“Well, now I’m awake, dickhead. How long have you been thinking about this?”

“I don’t know, a few years, maybe.”

“Years?”

“Uh, yeah? You know how frustrating it is to be a dude without a dick? I just wanna do what you get to do. It’s not that deep.”

“Okay, well, let’s put that on the back burner for now.”

“Can we try it after my show next week?”

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

“Oh, god, how I love you.” Eddie gently kissed Steve’s neck as he rubbed circles into his chest. “Get some sleep, big boy—it’s your morning with the beast tomorrow.”

As the couple fell into a deep slumber, it was soon interrupted by their daughter screaming at the top of her lungs from the end of the hall. The boys were stirred awake, trying to gain a sense of where they were and what was going on.

“Is that Bobby?” Steve grumbled.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed. “It’s your night.”

“I know,” Steve mumbled, sitting up in bed. He trekked down to Bobby’s bedroom where he flicked on the light and knelt next to his toddler’s bed. “What’s up, Bee?”

“There’s ghosties under the bed!” She cried.

“What do they look like?”

“They don’t have faces…”

“I, um… what are they doing?”

“They have scissors and, and, and they’re cutting up the carpet. Daddy, I’m scared!”

“Okay, uh… hold on…”

Steve’s eyes were bulged out of his head as he made his way back to his bedroom. Sweat was collecting at his brow as he stood in the doorway of his room.

“You good over there, big boy?” Eddie teased.

“Nope, this one is yours.”

Eddie rolled his eyes as he climbed out of bed to tend to his daughter. As the couple walked back down the hall, Eddie was desperately trying to figure out what was going on.

“Why was she screaming?” Eddie yawned.

“She saw ghosts under the bed. She said they were cutting up her carpet.”

“Dear lord.” Once Eddie crossed the threshold, he embraced his daughter in a warm hug, gently kissing the crown of her head. “Papa’s here, baby girl.”

“Papa, daddy! Make the ghosties go!” she sobbed.

“Okay, okay.” Eddie got down on his knees and peered under her bed. “Hey, guys? I know you’re having fun under there, but it’s late, and she’s little, so you’re scaring her. So maybe calm down on the carpet cutting for tonight.” Eddie popped his head back up and smiled at Bobby. “They said they’re sorry and they’re going to bed. You should get back to sleep too, princess.”

“But papa, I’m scared!”

“Do you want me and daddy to stay until you’re asleep? Just to make sure you’re safe?” She nodded profusely. “Okay. Do you want a lullaby or a bedtime story?”

“Both…” She said with a slight lisp, clutching her bumble gum pink comforter close to her chest.

“Okay. Stevie, do you wanna grab a book?”

“Sure. What do you want, pumpkin?”

“Goodnight Moon, please.”

“Alright. Do you want story or song first?”

“Story, please.

“Okay.”

Steve crawled into the bed, pulling Bobby into his lap. He straightened out her strawberry printed nightgown and made sure she was cozy in his embrace. Bobby pushed her messy curls out of her face so she could get a better look at the pages. Steve began reading in a soft, calming voice, slowly easing his daughter’s nerves. By the end of the book, she was half-asleep.

Steve shimmied her over to Eddie’s lap where he held her close against his chest, similar to when she was younger. He rubbed small circles into her back, making her melt further into his touch. Eddie started out by quietly humming before he finally started singing.

“Once there was a way,” he started, but was quickly stopped.

“I don’t want Golden Slumbers, papa,” Bobby mumbled.

“Uh, okay… but I always sing it to you…”

“I want the other one,” she whispered. Steve and Eddie looked to each other, puzzled—they had never sung anything else to her.

“What other one, honey?”

“The one pop-pop always sings,” she said into his chest.

What does Wayne sing? Steve mouthed.

I don’t know! Eddie mouthed back, panicked.

“Do you know how it goes?” Eddie asked.

“I dunno...”

Then it hit Steve—it was the same song that brought him and his husband together all those years ago. He had heard Wayne sing it from time-to-time when he insisted on putting Bobby down for a nap.

“If I Can Dream,” Steve smiled. Tears brimmed at Eddie’s eyes—their first date; their song.

“I can sing that, pumpkin,” Eddie whispered. “There must be lights burning brighter somewhere… got to be birds flying higher in a sky more blue… if I can dream of a better land…”

Eddie sang the song in a slow, low voice until Bobby was fast asleep. He slipped out from under her, turned off her bedroom light, and the couple walked back to their bedroom for the night.

“How were you so calm?” Steve grit his teeth.

“Are you kidding‽ I fucking shit myself!”

The following days were filled with more or less the same. The boys would go through their morning routine, drop Bobby off with either Wayne or Pattie before heading off to work. Then, pick their little one up, have dinner as a family, put Bobby down for the night, then switch off who had to deal with her night terrors.

But then, finally, the fateful Saturday had come—Eddie was performing at the Hoosier Dome. He had to be at the arena for sound check around noon, which Steve and Bobby tagged along for. Once that was all set, it was Guns N’ Roses’ turn to take the stage and rehearse until the show that evening. Corroded Coffin was free to roam around Indianapolis until four or five—as long as they were back by six, management couldn’t care less what they were up to.

The Harrington’s roamed around the city, taking Bobby anywhere she wanted to go. Around three in the afternoon, Bobby started to get a bit tired, so she urged her dads to sit down and rest. Eddie found a quaint brick wall that he happily hopped onto, hauling Bobby up onto his lap shortly after.

The cool breeze brushed through each of their curls and Steve couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful family. All he could think was how he got so lucky. How he ended up with such a gorgeous, loving family.

As Steve was off in his own la la land, Eddie adjusted Bobby’s bright yellow puffer jacket and her pale pink skirt (which was layered on top of some thermal leggings to keep her from catching a cold). She insisted on dressing herself for this momentous occasion, but Eddie and Steve would be damned if she’d be left to freeze.

In protest of her warm outfit, Bobby demanded she’d bring along her heart-shaped sunglasses—while Steve thought it was ridiculous, Eddie fed into his daughter’s antics and brought along his black shades as well. Oh, how the two troublemakers were similar in endless ways.

By six, Eddie was back at the arena for a final run through with Corroded Coffin, while Steve took Bobby out for dinner. They weren’t going on until eight, so Steve figured they had time to kill. At seven forty-five on the dot, Steve brought Bobby back to the dressing rooms to wish her father good luck on his set.

Eddie held Bobby close in an embrace, hugging her so tight you’d think it would be the last time he’d ever see her. He pressed a kiss into her forehead before placing giant, noise-cancelling headphones over her ears to protect her from the booming chaos of the arena. The stage hands ushered Corroded Coffin to the stage-wings, with Steve and Bobby tailing closely behind.

At eight sharp, the band stormed the stage, screeching their instruments to get the crowd going. Shortly after, Eddie boomed into the microphone: “hello, Indianapolis!” The arena erupted with cheers—Eddie couldn’t help but smile.

“How’re we feeling tonight?” Everyone cheered again. “Love it, love it! You guys should know, you’re our first big gig. Make some noise for yourselves, come on!”

And they did—Steve did his best to clap for his husband as he held Bobby up on his hip. Bobby held her hands firmly against her headphones, stunned and overwhelmed by all the commotion. Steve gently bounced her up and down as he pointed to his husband on stage. Bobby eventually put two and two together and screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Papa’s on stage!” She cheered. “Daddy, look! Papa’s on stage!”

“I know, pumpkin, I see him,” he chuckled.

Corroded Coffin played their first few songs before Eddie decided to speak to the crowd again. It was when he stopped to take a sip of water, shortly chased with complimentary beer the arena provided.

“How’re we feeling, Indianapolis‽” Cheers erupted from the audience once more. “Good, good,” Eddie chuckled. “Before we sing our last few songs, I’d like to take a second to thank everyone who made tonight possible.” Eddie started rattling off names of managers, event coordinators, Guns N’ Roses themselves, and finally, his own family. “Last, but certainly not least, my own beautiful, supportive, amazing husband—and yes, you all did hear that correctly. He’s supported me since we met back in ‘85 and he hadn’t missed a gig until we had our gorgeous daughter, and even then, he told me to get back to performing as soon as I was able to. Everyone, please, give it up for my husband. None of this could’ve been possible without him.” The crowd applauded weakly. “Oh, come on, I know you can do better than that! Give it up for my husband, ladies and gents! Come on!” Cheers and applause flooded the arena. “Yeah, that’s more like it! Alright, I think you’ve earned this last song. Hit it!”

As the band closed out with their grand finale, Bobby started kicking at Steve’s stomach, wanting to be put down to dance. She ran over to the stairs leading up to the stage and eagerly jumped up and down to the beat.

When the song finished, and everyone went to go bow, Bobby slipped through the cracks of all the production coordinators (and Steve) and ran onto the stage to smother Eddie with hugs.

“Bobby, no!” Steve yelled.

But it was no use—she couldn’t hear him through the headphones. Eddie spotted the brightly colored girl out of the corner of his eye, dropped to his knees, gingerly setting down his guitar, and wrapped his daughter in a warm embrace. She tackled him to the ground, and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh.

He squeezed her tight, running his hands through her tight ringlets, and placed a million kisses all over her face. Tears prickled are Eddie’s eyes as the entire audience faded into the background.

At the end of the day, she was what made it all worth it.

“Papa, you did so good!” She yelled, not knowing the volume of her own voice.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he beamed. He sat up, still hugging her, as the stage crew started setting up for the main act. “We should go before we get in trouble. C’mon.”

He stood up, hiking Bobby up onto his hip, as he handed his guitar to a random stage-hand. He held her close as he headed for the stairs, meeting Steve with a warm hug.

“You did so good, baby,” Steve said.

“Thank you,” Eddie whispered.

“And you!” Steve started, pointing sternly at his toddler. “Never run away from me like that again, do you understand? Scared me half to death, Bobby.”

“Sorry, daddy…”

“Oh, give her a break. She was just excited,” Eddie said. “I appreciated the hugs. I wouldn’t mind if it became a post-show tradition,” he teased.

“Let’s not get carried away.” Steve rolled his eyes, hand rubbing up and down Eddie’s sweaty back.

“So, Harrington…” Eddie leaned in to whisper in his husband’s ear. “Our deal still on?” Steve’s eyes widened as he blushed up to his ears—Eddie smirked proudly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

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nametakensff · 1 year

Note

i see u like Lupin iii 👁👁 any errant thoughts you have stored up to share perhaps???

I absolutely DO have thoughts about L/upin!! This is going to be reeeeally long

Anyone who has watched the anime, particularly part 2, knows there are just endless instances of L/upin and other characters sneezing out of the blue or being cold etc (anyone curious can look at this megalist I posted to the forum after rewatching almost all Lupin content out there lol).

Before I go into each character, should just mention that I assume that the 4 L/upin gang members are just fucking each other interchangeably, with the exception of F/ujiko and J/igen

L/upin

I looove the thought of L/upin being sensitive to just about anything. He is absolutely just one of those people for whom it is normal to sneeze 50 times in a day for seemingly no reason. I don’t see him necessarily being allergic to anything, but he will sneeze at strong perfumes, spices, flowers, dust etc. He won’t pay his sneezes much mind and will do very little to hold them back – even on a heist unless absolutely necessary.

When he has a cold (which he is prone to after getting wet, a frequent occurence), he sneezes enough to both impress and worry the rest of his gang.

He doesn’t care to cover and will sneeze openly until he is made to cover by one of his exasperated companions – most often F/ujiko. And of course he would do anything for her!

His sneezes can become harsh and loud if he is really irritated but in general they are quite gentle and fittish, and can be pretty wet. Depending on his mood at the time – because L/upin is a moody motherfucker – he either absolutely relishes the sensation or curses at the annoyance.

J/igen

Now J/igen….there’s that one OVA where he has pollen allergies to a very specific flower, but outside of that, again, I don’t really see him with allergies. He sneezes an average amount. His sneezes are relatively loud and one or two tend to do the job for him.

He has a surprisingly good immune system for someone who has the same shitty and unstable lifestyle as L/upin and often ends up having to look after him. He likes to sulk and be alone when he is sick.

He doesn’t cover but will actually turn away from people – more than he can say about L/upin, who basically uses him like a human tissue at times. Will blush if anyone draws attention to his sneezes or heaven forbid, offers him tissues (this is normally F/ujiko).

I love the idea of J/igen having the fetish more than any other gang member – I started writing something aaaages ago I should get back to about J/igen being shocked by how openly L/upin would sneeze at or on him, but liking it so much he just never brought it up lol

If J/igen was open about his fetish to L/upin, L/upin would happily indulge him – perhaps winding J/igen up to the point that the gunman wishes he never told him about it because shit, now he has to hide his massive erection in public after L/upin made a point of trying to find out which cologne makes him sneeze the most

G/oemon

Ok, G/oemon…..I looove G/oemon, he’s so stubborn and cute! I like to think although he tries to be a composed and respectable samurai, he has absolutely ZERO control over his expression or buildup when he needs to sneeze. One second, he’s stony faced and cool, the next his aristocratic features have totally crumpled into the most desperate pre-sneeze expression you have ever seen – and the tickle is too strong for him to even attempt to mask it.

When he does sneeze, it’s intensely desperate to the ears and can be quite messy. He tends to sneeze either one huge sneeze or a smaller fit of big, but not quite as big, rapid fire sneezes.

He’s almost as bad as L/upin for not covering, but more than him not even bothering, he genuinely loses all ability to control himself once the urge takes hold. The sneeze is HAPPENING and he can do nothing about it lmao. This can be embarrassing for him depending on company – he goes bright red if this happens around an attractive woman

He rarely gets sick, but if he does he will absolutely sulk alone like J/igen. Is a very attentive caretaker when his companions are sick, though they wish he would cool it with the nasty home remedies.

If he is aware of J/igen’s fetish he would very unsubtly look over at him once he has finished sneezing to see if the other man had been watching. If he noticed J/igen blushing, he would probably blush too but feel very pleased with himself

F/ujiko

F/ujiko, my love. She doesn’t sneeze often but when she does, it tends to take a lot out of her. Her sneezes aren’t big or particularly messy, but they are intense and so very desperate. Tends to sneeze in triples, extremely girly and sometimes featuring a little gasping buildup. They toss her head forward and send shivers through her. Quite an ordeal and she’s thankful it isn’t something she to put up with regularly.

She has cat allergies. This is why she absolutely prefers dogs and will often refer to cats as nasty creatures. They’re cute and all, but they make her eyes and nose tickle unbearably.

She likes to play up her sneezes so that men will fawn over her – either men she is manipulating for a heist, or her companions. This works like a charm on both L/upin and G/oemon, but irritates the fuck out of J/igen, who is pretty much exasperated when any man fumbles over any woman. If F/ujiko knows about his fetish, she will smugly notice that despite his grumbling that she can’t fool him by playing up her suffering, he stiffens all the same at every feminine sneeze.

When she catches a cold, she is extremely clingy. She will drop in on L/upin unannounced, miserably congested, and cuddle up to him telling him how awful she feels. Naturally, L/upin is over the moon to have his F/ujiko close and seeking his attention, so he will immediately fawn over her, inevitably getting sick himself. She will sometimes return the favour of caretaking, but not often. J/igen will always be there to fuss over L/upin, anyway.

Z/enigata

So for Z/enigata, I don’t have too many takes because I can't really perceive him in a fetishy manner haha – but one thing for sure is that he has obnoxiously loud dad sneezes, will mean to cover but often doesn’t get the chance to, and this will sometimes result in quite a mess.

His immune system is RUINED after all the years of stress chasing L/upin, so he is very prone to colds. Very sneezy headcolds that have him unbelievably congested, snuffling into tissues or a handkerchief all day. Every now and then L/upin will take pity on him and if Z/enigata is on his trail but doesn’t quite know where L/upin is, L/upin will leave cold medicine and tissues outside his hotel room – or sometimes in disguise as a hotel employee, bring them to him directly.

That’s all I have for right now but I definitely need to write some solid fics for this lot because I just LOVE them

#l/upin iii #sneeze kink #snz kink #snz fet #snzfucker #snzblr

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trenchcoatimpala · 3 years

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Okay Creation Entertainment this post is for you. Below you will find a list of panel pairings that would be super cool and fun and would bring something new and fresh to conventions, because I’m sick of J2 panels, they’ve run stale, they’re dry, we get the same questions over and over again. J2 can have their gold panel but that’s really all they need methinks. So.

Let me give you some options:

Jensen Ackles and Misha Collins (because there SHOULD be a Jenmish panel we only get them at JIB and I think we need at least one for a creation con. I’m not saying every con but at least one.)

Jensen Ackles and Kim Rhodes (GIVE ME A PANEL WHERE WE GET TO TALK ABOUT DEAN AND JODY’S MOTHER AND SON RELATIONSHIP AND EVERYTHING)

Jensen Ackles and Briana Buckmaster (I WANT TO KNOW IF DEAN AND DONNA MEET UP FOR COFFEE, DONUTS, AND BURGERS AT LEAST ONCE A MONTH)

Jensen Ackles and DJ Qualls (WHAT DO GARTH AND DEAN DO WHEN THEY HANG OUT? DID SAM AND DEAN EVER BABYSIT FOR GARTH WHEN HE AND BESS WANTED A NIGHT OUT?)

Jensen Ackles and Alex Calvert (Dean and Jack’s relationship is so interesting. There is SO MUCH there that could be discussed. So many avenues to dive down and I would love the ability to have them both in a room to discuss things)

Jensen Ackles and Felicia Day (HAND OVER THE DEAN CHARLIE BROTHER SISTER DUO BECAUSE I NEEED TO TALK TO THEM BOTH)

Jensen Ackles and Samantha Smith (there’s so much there. Dean losing his mom so young, her coming back, their strained relationship. I want to TALK ABOUT IT)

Misha Collins and Ruth Connell (WHY DOESN’T THIS EXIST? WHY? CAN YOU FUCKING IMAGINE THE CHOAS?? THE WONDERFUL THINGS WE’D LEARN ABOUT CAS AND ROWENA? PLEASE MAKE THIS A THING)

Misha Collins and Richard Speight (GIVE ME CAS AND GABE STORIES RIGHT NOW. I NEED TO HEAR ABOUT THEIR ANGELIC BROTHERHOOD)

Misha Collins and Rob Benedict (Cas was Chuck’s son too. I want to talk about their not there relationship and how Chuck feels about his other rebellious son and if Cas actually wanted his Dad dead or if he wishes Chuck was just... his Dad)

Misha Collins and Felicia Day (CAS AND CHARLIE WERE GONNA BE SUCH GOOD BESTIES I WANNA HEAR ABOUT THINGS THEY DID TOGETHER)

Misha Collins and Mark Sheppard (CAS AND CROWLEY SPIN OFF NEEDED TO HAPPEN AND I MUST LEARN MORE ABOUT THESE TWO AND HOW THEY HATED AND LIKED ONE ANOTHER and how jealous Cas was of Crowley for being with Dean during his hot girl summer)

J*red P*dalecki and Samantha Smith (I could even MAYBE stomach a J2 plus Sam Smith because I think mother and sons would be a nice panel)

J*red P*dalecki and Alex Calvert (Sam loved Jack and I feel like he never really got to do things with him like Dean and Cas did, so it would be cool to talk about)

J*red P*dalecki and Richard Speight (Sam and Gabe were becoming friends and I think that it would make for an interesting panel)

THERE ARE SO MANY OPTIONS TO CHANGE THINGS UP A BIT SO FUCKING MANY. THESE ARE JUST A FEW (and I wouldn’t watch any J*red panels but for those that like panels with him I had to include options) And of course any of these people can be interchanged with each other or there could be joint panels for groups. But I just think it’s time for a change. The big J2 panels need to go. Maybe at one specific con they can have their big hour long panel, but I don’t think every con needs them, I really don’t. I want to pair up new people to talk about different relationships.

Why must “side characters/ guest actors” be put in one panel. Why can’t we mix “main characters” and “side characters”. What’s with the discrimination huh?

#spn #supernatural #creation let's fucking do some changing around here #my panel suggestions

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weasleypogues · 3 years

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fight club (p.h.)

request: hii can i request smth angsty with pope ? maybe it could end well for both the reader and him but overall it’s just filled with angst and slow burn and tension ? ty xx

ofc lovieee!!! loving this pope recognition finally!! :)

this will be a two part becuause this was longer than i expected!!! part 2 here!!!

masterlist.

you literally felt like you could not sit still. anger was pulsating through your veins as you paced back and forth on the porch of the chateau. you also felt the piercing eyes of pope follow you back and forth as you struggled to form a cohesive sentence.

“it’s just- ugh! she can’t get away with this! she thinks because she’s a kook that i’ll be begging for her forigveness and shit like i’m a starving peasant just to save my reputation! i’m a fucking pogue, i don’t have a reputation to uphold!” you spat as your hands clenched together so hard you swear you were going to accidentally draw blood from your palms.

vanessa was a kook that you never had problems with when you were kids because you two had a friendship that was secretive and playful because of opposing groups. it wasn’t until middle school was when she ditched you, similar to kie and sarah’s relationship. thankfully for them, they sorted it out. however, vanessa was bitter and bitchy every chance she could get.

“yes (y/n)! keep it fiesty! i wanna see you win a good cat fight.” jj egged you on.

“you’re gonna make yourself go crazy if you don’t just sit down.” pope spoke in a sterner tone than you would have expected. but as the rage filled you from vanessa, pope’s tone was not helping. you felt a tinge of hurt in your chest as he expressed his clear stress and annoyance with you. but you weren’t going to let it go that easily; not in this state.

“i’m fine just the way i am, thanks.” you responded just as passive-aggressively as he did. you literally had to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes so you wouldn’t egg this on, because the last thing you needed was for pope of all people to be on your bad side.

you heard him scoff from behind you and his footsteps faded away. you spun around so quickly, maybe even too quickly to play it cool, to just see a flash of him as he turned the corner. your eyes flashed to john b, kie, and jj who had expressions that were just as shocked as your own.

“what’s his problem?” you asked, expecting an answer real quick before you had to go investigate it yourself. your teeth grinded against each other and you felt your face and ears go hot.

“he probably just doesn’t think this is worth it (y/n/n).” kiara stated, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt and giving you a look that said don’t let it get to you. kiara shared a quick glance with john b and jj, which definitely did not go unnoticed by you.

“w-what was that? that little look you three shared?” you asked pointing your finger at them interchangeably and confused but angrily eager to find out. you raised your eyebrows, expecting another speedy answer as you finally turned towards jj who held his hands up in defense and bit his tongue.

“cut pope some slack. you’ve been looking for trouble lately (y/n), it’s been keeping him on edge each time.” john b responded and slapped his hands on this thighs before getting up off the couch. you felt your cheeks get a little hot and your jaw drop slightly.

pope was trying to be protective of you. this was not a secret that you and pope were always flirty with each other but neither of you ever acted on it. both keeping the same sad mindset, if they wanted to, they would. everytime you talked about this with kiara and sarah at a girls’ night, they playfully judged you for thinking like that and tried to encourage you to just go for it.

you took a deep inhale and relaxed your shoulders and face, feeling the tension ease up on your body. “she’s asking for it...look i don’t want to make pope upset or anything but vanessa can’t keep pulling this shit. she’s asking for her teeth to get knocked in.” you huffed out as you grabbed your backpack and phone to hop on your bike and head home.

your grabbed your phone and backpack as you headed back outside to your bike. you didn’t even bother to text the rest of the group about catching a ride to tonights kegger because you were just a little fired up from earlier. they were your friends and if this were any other case, they would be backing you up. why is this time any different?

you’re recalling yourself getting ready. stud earrings because she can grab hold of hoops. your hair in two braids because there was less surface area for her to snatch onto. sneakers to make a run for it in case shit gets bad.

what the rest of them don’t understand is that not only was vanessa mean, spoiled, and made your existence on the obx difficult, was that you had a bumpy past with her. more than just losing a friend. she made up a rumor based on fake ideas that she overheard her parents talking about. when she would run into you on the street with her other kook friends at the ripe age of 13, she would be a bystander as they spat insults your way. that always caused a strain in your friendship.

until one day, she started the picking on first. she judged you on your family’s financial situation and said quote-by-quote “i heard her mom cheats on her dad with all of her little pogue friend’s dads. who knows, they could actually be related and we wouldn’t know. she’s a whore and i’m sure she’ll end up just like her.” tears still brim your eyes at that memory. you wouldn’t dare tell the rest of the pogues, whether it was out of embarassment or fear. it was best for them and their own minds that it was never brought up again. since then, it seems like constant torture from her.

you pulled up on the beach and hopped off your bike as your tires were definitely not made for the sand. you laid it on a tree and made a b-line to the keg that john b was basically guarding. “thought we’d hear from you.” you heard kiara state as she sat on the sand and glanced up at you, squinting her eyes to keep the remaining sun from basically burning them.

“yeah well, just got a lot on my mind.” you responded. you didn’t want to be so abrupt with them but your blood was basically boiling with the idea of vanessa. john b stared between you and kiara and handed you a full red solo cup which you gladly took, taking a gulp.

“soooo...” jj started, throwing an arm around your shoulder, “cat fight tonight?” you felt a chuckle rise out of you as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“if you’re lucky enough, maybe you’ll get front row.” you joked, sending a smirk jj’s way and taking another gulp. you felt a presence behind you and turned to be faced with pope. his facial expression had clearly changed from what you saw from him last time. he looked almost guilty and concerned rather than aggravated.

“come to snap at me again?” you said, turning towards the horizon on the water. looking into his eyes right now was difficult. maybe because it was the idea that you knew some part of you wanted to snap at him for him snapping at you earlier but you couldn’t make another enemy. not tonight.

“about that...can i actually talk to you for a minute?” pope muttered, instincitvely cracking his knuckles, clearly scared to tread on water. you felt your shoulders relax and your facial muscles follow suit. placing your drink and backpack on the ground you followed a few paces behind him, closer to the sand where the tide was rolling in. although he didn’t stop, he wanted this to be a walk and talk situation.

you strolled beside him, both of your hands slightly brushing against each other every now and then. while neither of you took initiative to grab the others’ hand, neither of you pulled your hands out of that pathway either. that connection and touch felt nice. it was reassuring that his snappiness, along with your own, was out of love and protection of each other.

“you won’t be happy with what i’m about to say...” pope started, basically holding his breath.

“so why say it, pope? i know it sounds bad to say outloud but, why not just let me fight her? she has made my existence so unbearably difficult on this island and has slandered my name and countless others of those i love too much and for too long. i’m sick of being a pushover and letting her get away with it because of mommy and daddy’s money. im done!” you blurted out, letting more info out than you expected. “why does it bother you so much? if this was topper and john b going at it, or rafe and jj? which keep in mind, both have actually happened, i’m sure you would be more hesitant to stop them.”

your strolling came to a sudden halt as pope took a step directly in front of you, face to face. he looked longingly into your eyes, somewhat darting back and forth between your own eyes to search for an answer to his questions or even an answer to yours.

“(y/n)! i can’t see you get hurt. i know how badly you want to do this and how much it means to you but in the end, what is it going to get you? an even worse reputation among kooks, bloody nose, and a black eye? is it worth it?” pope rambled drasticaly.

“it is worth it! and i’m so thankful that you care about me and my well being and everything in between but this is something that i have to do. once and for all. i’m not putting myself and everyone i love through this torture anymore. and if that means beating the shit out of her and getting a bloody lip and battered up on the way, than so be it!” you responded, using your hands quite animatedly throughout the performance. the waves seemed like the loudest thing on earth as you awaited an answer from pope. he looked defeated and anxious, knowing that there was no getting through to you for this.

“i-” pope started before cutting himself off, looking deafeated yet again. he ran his hands over his face in frustration and as he let his eyes shine over the tips of his fingers, they locked with yours. you felt stuck in place and in a trance for a split second before you felt a pair of hands on your waist and soon enough, you were lip locked with pope.

instantly you pulled away, your heart feeling full and your legs feeling limp. your hands made their way to his jawline, slightly caressing his cheeks and neck as you pulled him back into the kiss, elongating it.

he pulled away, shocked yet proud with himself. you could not help the small smile that made it’s way onto your face as your cheeks felt hot immediately. “i can’t believe i’m saying this but...fuck it. beat the shit out of vanessa.”

the small smile grew as a laugh escaped your lips. you were quick to grab his hand as you both made your way back towards the kegger that was becoming a little more dense as the minutes passed. sarah, kiara, jj, and john b’s eyes were quick to fall on your interlocked hands with pope. both of you kept quiet, playing it nonchalantly. but you couldn’t help but notice pope’s look to john b and jj, all with smirks lined up on their faces.

part two out later!! :)

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karkatenjoyer · 2 years

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i’ve been thinking about how dave and karkat both coped with their fucked up childhoods by trying to love the thing that was the reason for how fucked up their childhoods were. there was a time when dave genuinely wanted to emulate bro and a time when he at least tried to think that bro’s way of doing things was normal or sensible or cool. meanwhile karkat though he could bootstrap his way to the top despite his mutation and told meenah that he always “respected” the condesce.

like!! dave coped with his abuse by going “what are you talking about? bro was great. he taught me so much. i’d never have learned how to defend against a blade-wielding maniac at like age fucking 8 without him also he made such sick beats and sometimes even bought food every once in a while. bro was so cool” … and karkat coped with his persecution by going “what are you talking about? alternia was great. wanna hear how much i know about troll romance, a system that exists in part because if we didn’t provide the empress with enough genetic material, we would die, except that i would have died anyway because our laws dictated that i should have been killed as a baby? my planet was so cool”

and i don’t think it was just pure innocence to the real motives and gravity of the forces at play. like, sure they didn’t know anything else firsthand, but the lads consumed media and they’re also pretty smart. obviously it wasn’t normal. they didn’t just rationalize their circumstances, they forced themselves to try to view them positively. and if you have a positive opinion of something that hates you and/or wants you dead, wow!!! the amount of self-hatred they internalized!!!! it’s flooring!!!! i know this has all been said before but UGHHHHH!!!!!!!!

btw this is why it confuses me to no end when people assume there was this one-sided “karkat playing therapist to dave” dynamic when it had to have been so mutual… because they have such a similar kind of trauma. i’m always harping about knights and armor and masks and how poignant sharing a class is in a Davekat Context… and also wow look how much their masks represent their respective backgrounds. i’m also not using mask and armor interchangeably here….. to really split hairs w my metaphor, armor is protection but it outlines the shape of your body. so dave’s pokerface irony haha it’s all a joke to me vibe is his armor, karkat’s shouty grrr hey douchebulge listen up because i am RANTING vibe is his. but dave actually does delight in irony and skewering things for the fun of it, and karkat actually does love to go on a good tirade. but younger dave’s tendency towards homophobic insults, his “admiration” for his bro, that’s his mask. younger karkat wanting to be a merciless badass right-hand man of the empress, that’s his mask. like, that’s them trying to be what their circumstances demand them to be

like, their self-loathing also makes them hate each other so uniquely. and they’re also so uniquely suited to help each other untangle all of that. but not without drama and tension!! it’s not a walk in the park with these two, certainly not at first!! but ultimately, they are so cosmically well-matched!! they have the potential to understand each other so heartachingly well!!!!

anyway my conclusion is as follows

1. (givs dave and karkat both a hug while crying)

2. abusing and neglecting a child is bad

3. threatening a child with death for an immutable trait of his that he can’t control is bad

4. narrative foil i love that stuff it’s way better than alumininum foil

5. what if we kissed and we were both knights

6. sburb knight class makes me go AHHHHHH

7. dave and karkat :)

6. dave and karkattttt :’)

8. sometimes the only way to cope with something that sucks is to pretend you love it. sometimes you have to make meaning out of a senseless suffering because how can you accept that you’re just going through this for nothing? sometimes even if you find some meaning it still doesn’t hold up and you’re still just faced with how much it fucking sucked and hurt you and there’s really no getting around it no matter how much you obfuscate. and then the self loathing you developed through liking the thing that hurt you is still there even though you now understand that it sucked. oof, been there boys!! see above about sburb knight class makes me go ahhhhhh

#oc #long post #sorry folks i’m feeling deranged

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hollyxqx · 4 years

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ALWAYS : NAMJOON : EPILOGUE

↪ PAIRING: Kim Namjoon x Reader ↪ GENRE: idol!au | ex’s to lovers | angst | smut ↪ SUMMARY: the story of how almost divorced, disgraced idol kim namjoon tries to put his life back the way it was after the world found out he was married and had a kid. ↪ WORD COUNT: 6k

↪ WARNINGS: angst angst angst, smut, nj has a mild pregnancy kink, oc body shames themselves a lot, milddddd drug references, tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: sorry this was delayed but here it is! thank you for being so patient and i really hope yall enjoy/are satisfied with the ending . my ask is always open if you have any questions or comments :):)

ONE : TWO : EPILOGUE

By day number four of avoiding Namjoon you knew it was time to relent and at the very least speak to him. Days one through three were spent using your mom's house as a temporary hideout. You knew there was a million questions whirring around in her head at your surprise visit, but you kept quiet, merely stating you wanted a break. She had given you the kind of look that was equal parts disapproving and disappointed, in only the way a mother could combine those expressions. It made you wonder if you made that face too.

Namjoon had called and texted everyday, each time begging you to talk to him. Your fingers would itch over the messages, tempted to just give in. You hated this as much as he did. After finally, finally, getting what you'd wanted for years - your family whole - it felt like it was slipping through your fingers again.

It was a loss you weren't sure if you could endure again.

Siwoo sat happily on his play mat, toy car in hand while you kept a careful watch on him. He had a tendency to put things in his mouth that didn't belong there, so you made sure to pay attention.

You were extra thankful for him as of late, your ray of sunshine in these dark few days. Though, when he went to bed in the evenings everything hit you the hardest, raw and painful. You'd had such little sleep in the last few days it was a miracle you were functioning as well as you were. Months of sleepless nights when Siwoo was a newborn had trained you well, you supposed.

The tea in your mug had gone cold and it tasted as bitter as you felt. You had gone back and forth several thousand times about whether you were over-reacting or not. The initial knee jerk reaction you have is to run when things get difficult. You'd been that way your entire life, often times to your detriment.

Over the course of your entire relationship with Namjoon that had been a recurring issue. Every argument, every fight, squabble, disagreement or otherwise, you were the one that bailed. The one that needed time to cool off. Which ultimately led to you filing for divorce in the end. Maybe it was time to confront your issues instead of running away from them.

The doorbell rang exactly at four p.m, signalling Namjoon had arrived. He knew the passcode and could easily enter if he so much as wanted to, having done so for the last few months. But you knew Namjoon. This was a way of showing you some respect, showing you he was giving you your space and would wait for you to come to him when you were ready. The same pattern as always.

With a heavy heart you trudge to the door, nursing your still cold tea. When you open the door Namjoon stood on the other side, looking as awful as you felt. "Hi." He said quietly, rubbing a sheepish hand over his unshaven face.

"Hi."

You step to the side, allowing him to cross the threshold into the apartment. A surprised, hesitant look crossed his face but he stepped inside regardless.

"Siwoo is in the living room." You told him, straight to the point. He nodded. After all, that was the reason he was here. You were forced out of your silence because you'd never keep his child from him, no matter how bad things got between you.

You hung back in the kitchen and busied yourself with making another cup of tea that you didn't particularly want. It was just an excuse to hide and you knew it. Coward that you were.

You could hear Siwoo's delight at seeing Namjoon as you waited for the kettle and it made your heart ache. He had missed his dad, having been used to his presence much more. The guilt it caused you plagued you constantly, since you were the reason for the separation.

Namjoon appeared in the kitchen a few moments later, Siwoo perched on his hip. A small smile escaped you at the grin on your son's face as his tiny head rested against Namjoon's chest. He still clutched the toy car.

"I'm all set to go." Namjoon announced. He shifted somewhat awkwardly. "Unless you want to..."

"Not yet." You didn't know exactly what he had in mind but you weren't ready for that talk at this moment in time.

He nodded, looking disappointed. "Will I still see you on Sunday?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't you? You're not keeping Siwoo forever." You knew instantly what you said had been far too harsh and definitely out of line. Namjoon's face flashed with pain. "I don't mean it like it that - " You attempted to explain that you weren't infact referring to your son as an object but you were cut off.

"I thought you might send your mom or Jess or anyone else in the world to do it." He informed you.

"It'll be me on Sunday, Namjoon."

"Can we have dinner then? If not for me, for Siwoo." He asked expectantly. You didn't have the heart to refuse him again, not when he looked at you with that desperate longing in his eyes.

"Okay. Dinner, then."

*** Standing outside Namjoon's extravagant house two days later you felt sick, absolutely sick to your stomach, throw up in a hedge nauseous. The combination of nerves, the secret pregnancy and the fact that the last time you were here was one of the worst days of your life had bile creeping up your throat.

When Namjoon finally answered the door, you hurried past him to the bathroom, muttering something about needing to pee. He could only watch you with a bewildered expression, clearly he'd expected a repeat of the awkward interchange from the other day.

You made it to the toilet just in time, praying he didn't hear the sound of you heaving your guts out over the porcelain. As you borrowed some of his mouthwash and cleaned your hands you debated what lie to feed him. Thankfully it wasn't the morning so you hoped you'd be able to get away with food poisoning as your excuse.

You returned to a worried Namjoon. "Are you ok? I heard you throw up." He asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I think I've just got food poisoning."

He stared at you curiously for a beat. "Do you want to lie down before dinner? It won't be ready for another 45 and I'd rather you felt alright."

You shook your head no. "Thanks Joonie, but I'm okay."

His expression softened at your use of his nickname, he hadn't heard it in a while. You didn't intend to use it but it slipped out so naturally. Especially when he was concerned about you.

The kitchen smelled incredible as you entered. Namjoon didn't cook often being the clumsy chef that he was, opting for takeout usually, sometimes multiple times a day. "What are you making? It smells good. Hi boop." You gave Siwoo a cuddle from behind as he sat in his high chair. He squealed with joy in your arms. "Mommy missed you."

"Lamb curry." Namjoon stated. "And just plain pasta for the kiddo."

"And how much has Seokjin helped you with all this?" You couldn't help but tease. Namjoon smirked.

"Alot." He turned away from you to fuss with the pot on the stove. "I wanted to do something nice for you. Figured you'd appreciate the effort."

You made a non-committal noise as you slotted yourself into the chair next to your child, still feeling a little queasy. It was silent until Siwoo's food was ready when Namjoon offered to feed him for you, but you declined. You were happy to do it. He could mostly feed himself anyway but sometimes needed a little help.

With nothing more to do for the time being Namjoon sat opposite you. You could feel his eyes on you but you deliberately kept your own on Siwoo. "What did you boys get up to then?" You murmured, trying to get Siwoo to eat with his small cutlery and not his hands. "The food is hot Siwoo, use this."

"Nothing too exciting. Mostly swimming, I've got the pool up and running again. That kid is a water baby through and through."

You nodded in agreement, having witnessed it first hand yourself. Ever since he figured out what water was you could barely keep him away from it, essentially making bath time a messy affair. "He especially loves your pool since you got that slide."

"I did it for him."

"I know."

Namjoon stood after a while and went to the cupboard, taking out two wine glasses. He placed one in front of where you sat, setting the other at his side of the table. "I got your favourite sauvigon blanc. The one from the top shelf." He mumbled, corking open the bottle he'd grabbed. "Here."

He began pouring you a glass. "Oh no, no thanks, I'm not dri - Siwoo don't throw your pasta."

Namjoon stopped mid pour, raising his eyebrow at you, ignoring the macaroni that hit the floor. "No wine?"

"My stomach still doesn't feel right." You lied, giving him an apologetic look. "Better avoid the alcohol."

"That's not like you." He paused giving you a curious look. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I just don't want to drink. I'll be driving again soon anyway."

He didn't know that you physically could not and would not touch alcohol due to tiny life that was growing inside you. The tiny life you still didn't know what the fuck you were going to about. Your stomach flipped anxiously.

"Okay." He said staring at you for a little too long. He swapped your slightly filled glass with his empty one. Namjoon poured sparkling water in yours in lieu of the wine. You knew he knew you were lying about something, but he said nothing, still on emotionally shaky ground with you. You wondered if he had anticipated you staying the night to offer you alcohol.

When Siwoo had finished eating and all the pasta had been cleaned from the floor you put him down for a nap. It was cute how sleepy he always got after food and it was nearing his bedtime anyway, heavy eyelids drooping as he sipped on water.

The only evidence that Namjoon even had a child was Siwoo's bedroom, the rest of the house looked like it belonged to a bachelor. As you walked through the vast space you found yourself getting somewhat irrationally angry about the fact. No wonder that girl felt so comfortable here. You found yourself scowling when you sat back at the dining table.

"What?" Namjoon asked, sensing instantly the shift in your mood.

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"You're one to talk." You shot back. He sighed.

"Don't be like this just because Siwoo isn't here. Can't we keep being civil?"

"Fine." You mumbled.

He dished the food and you ate in stony silence. The sound of the cutlery scraping on the plates soon became deafening to you, grating on you and worsening your mood. Namjoon had asked you to be civil but that girl hadn't been to you, or to him for that matter and that was the only thing on your mind as you ate. The hormones raging through your body were certainly making you more quick to anger than usual.

"Is it okay?" Namjoon asked, pointing to your plate with a fork. "The food."

"Perfect, thank you." You replied. He looked crestfallen at your curt reply.

"Can we talk properly tonight jagi?" He asked.

"Don't call me that." Instantly you were transported back to the night when this mess started, the night you slept together for the first since breaking up. You'd had almost that exact exchange, although it was a playful one and didn't have the sombre atmosphere his kitchen had.

"All I really need is for you to listen." He sighed. "Can you do that for me?"

You owed it to him at least. "Alright."

He inhaled a deep breath before releasing it slowly, as if he was unsure where to begin. "I didn't cheat on you. I wasn't lying about that. If you take anything away from this conversation, please let it be that." His gaze was so intense you couldn't help but believe him.

"Did she kiss you that day?"

"Yeah." He looked down with a grimace. "I didn't initiate anything, she lunged at me. It was an attack."

"She called you Joonie."

That caught his attention and he looked at you in surprise, eyebrows shooting towards his hairline. "That bothered you?" You nodded.

"It didn't feel like a casual hookup, Namjoon. She seemed very familiar with you. She was in your home calling you what me - your wife - calls you." You voice got higher the more emotional you got, tears burning your eyes. Namjoon shushed you gently, telling you to calm down. "And then there was the other girl from the pictures. What do you do to these women to make them think this behaviour is ok?"

Namjoon gave you an infuriatingly blank look. "That was the girl I was papped with."

"No it wasn't." You sniffed.

"Baby," He huffed an incredulous but humourless laugh. "I promise you. Crazy girl from the photos is crazy girl that was here. Those pictures were dark, you probably just didn't recognise her."

"Why does she keep showing up?"

"We did hook up, but once a long time ago. I made the mistake of taking her home. I saw her once after that, but we didn't have sex. Other stuff happened, I won't lie."

You felt uncomfortable, hot, prickly jealousy constricting in your chest. "I don't need details."

"I don't really remember it to be honest. I was wasted." He explained further. "She turned out to be a big fan of mine and was - is - having a hard time dealing with the fact that I don't want her. That's it. That's the story. I swear."

You searched his eyes with your own for a few moments and he held your steely gaze.

"You could get a restraining order." You grumbled.

"They're not as easy to get as you think."

You crossed your arms and looked away. Although you believed every word he said you still weren't happy. Maybe it would take more than a conversation this time.

"Anything else you want to know, just ask." Namjoon told you softly. His hand twitched on the table and you could tell he wanted to reach for yours. "I'm an open book."

You knew exactly what was niggling at your conscious. "What else have you lied about?"

He paused for a moment and your heart dropped, anticipating the absolute worst. "I once jerked off to a picture of your feet."

Your scandalized expression was enough to have him laughing, easing some of the tension in the room. "I'm serious!" You scolded.

"So am I." He smirked and you rolled your eyes. "I'm sorry baby, I just wanted to see you smile."

"You're ridiculous."

He stood and walked round the table, taking your hand in his forcing you to stand. He pulled you into a hug and your arms automatically wrapped around his waist. "Am I forgiven?" He mumbled into your hair.

"No." You said but your body contradicted your words, melting even further in to him. "I'm still angry at you for lying and nearly dying of an overdose too. It's scary to think you can keep such things from me. I'm waiting for the next lie now Joonie."

He squeezed you tighter. "I understand, I do, but does a tiny part of you not see why I would hide those things from you? It was to stop you from getting hurt."

"I guess." You know he has a point and you do feel better for having this talk with him but jumping back to fully trusting him feels frightening. You hate being vulnerable and right now, that's what you are.

"All I want is for us to be together, and whatever you need me to do to get us there, I'll do it." He said with strong conviction.

You surprised him by standing on your tiptoes and pecking his lips, his eyes remained open in shock. "You're a good man, Namjoon. I'm lucky I have you." He smiled. "But if you ever lie to me again, I swear to god I'm done."

"Never." He swore.

***

It took three more nights of intense conversations with Namjoon before your relationship started to return to normal. Getting everything out in the open was a little painful for your both but once everything that had happened during your separation was no longer shrouded in darkness, you felt better. You both did.

Namjoon had bravely opened up about how he struggled with pills and drugs. You'd learned he'd been partying a scary amount and that's where he met 'crazy girl'. Apparently she was a big party girl and drug user herself, which made sense, considering her erratic behaviour. She was an amateur model and had access to a lot of free drugs, so Namjoon was unfortunately drawn to her.

It wasn't exactly easy nor fun to hear about the women that he'd been with. It was with an embarrassed flush to his cheeks that he admitted a lot of his hook ups had been a blur of nameless faces. He wasn't proud of it, he'd never been a guy who fucked around, even before you met.

You were surprised to learn he'd spent time in rehab. Mostly it was just therapy but it allowed him to be in a better state mentally and therefore able to cope. Namjoon had got teary when you told him that you were proud of him. It wasn't easier to better yourself and succeed. He told you it was all for Siwoo and you understood that fierce protective desire completely.

During the third night, when you lay in Namjoon's bed, each on your side and facing each other you realised it was time to come clean about your secret now. You squeezed your entwined hands that lay on the pillow between your heads. "Namjoon, in the spirit of being honest...I need to tell you something."

"What is it jagi?" His brow furrowed at your tone.

You gulped. "I'm pregnant." He was silent and his expression never changed, which immediately worried you. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner but I was going to do something cute by just giving you the sonogram instead of doing it in this lame way, but -

" - That's amazing." He interrupted your nervous rambling. A grin started to spread on his face.

"Really?" You asked cautiously.

"Are you joking? It's fucking great news!" He exclaimed. Namjoon let go of your hand and quickly placed his large palm on your lower stomach. "How far along?"

"Only 9 weeks." You playfully shoved his hand off of you. "You won't be able to feel anything yet." You laughed.

"I'm excited. I knew something was up when you weren't drinking and throwing up." He admitted. "It's going to be so different this time round. So much less stress and worry. We can actually enjoy your pregnancy."

"I'm excited that you're excited." You said. "I was scared to tell you. After everything we went through..."

"It's going to be different this time." He repeated. He kissed you passionately, lips crashing against yours as if he was trying to show you just how much he meant his words. Arms snaked around your torso as he held you close. "We're going to have two kids soon." He murmured. "Are you ready for this?"

"Nope." You laughed and he joined you. "But I wasn't ready the first time and we managed."

This time when he kissed you, you could feel him smile against your lips. "This feels like a dream. I'm so happy." He managed to get out in between presses of his mouth against yours. You were elated. "Can't wait to see you pregnant again."

"You mean, fat." You corrected.

"Noooo," He groaned, frustrated. "You looked so sexy when you were pregnant before." His hands slid underneath your shirt, along your stomach to cup and squeeze at your breasts. "You had big ass boobies." You can't help but laugh, he was like a horny teenager when it came to boobs. "Filled with milk for my baby."

His thumbs brushed against your nipples and you stiffened at the sensation. He kept repeating the action and you could feel a dull ache in your core at the sensation. "s'feels good." You murmured, trying to concentrate.

"Yeah?" He pulled back a little to gauge your expression. "Can I keep going?"

You nodded, appreciating the fact that he was asking for permission since you hadn't slept together since your argument. He peeled your shirt from your body and leaned down to plant kisses all over your breasts, thankful you weren't wearing a bra to bed. A dreamy sigh escaped you as your hands carded through his hair.

"D'you know what else I liked about you being pregnant?" He said huskily, still fondling you.

"Tell me." You had felt insecure at the time, and had been feeling it again after seeing the model you knew Namjoon had slept with. Some reassurance would be welcome.

"You were swollen in all the right places." The heel of his palm began to grind down slowly against your panties, having worn only those and a shirt to bed. Namjoon's lips wrapped around a nipple and your pussy pulsed in response. "The curve of your stomach, hips and ass was so fucking sexy."

"Really?"

"Mhmm," He hummed and your underwear was moved to the side. "It was sexy because you looked like a woman. Not just a hot girl." His fingers moved in slow circles against your clit and you feel yourself growing wet especially fast. "And you were off-limits to any other man than me. I put my baby in you and every other man could see it."

"Fuck, Joonie." You whimpered after he hit one particularly sensitive spot, hips jolting slightly. "I didn't know you had a pregnancy kink."

He smirked against your skin, his breath fanning across as he laughed a little. "Me neither, until I saw you."

Briefly he stopped to pull the remnants of your clothing off leaving you fully naked. "Namjoon?" You asked hesitantly, feeling shy. He hummed in response, sliding his fingers into your wet heat once more. Something had been playing on your mind this entire time. "That girl was beautiful."

He groaned. This time it wasn't a sexy groan. "Don't talk about her when I'm touching you like this."

"I keep thinking about her. She's prettier than me." You admitted. He stopped what he was doing, gripping the bottom of your chin, forcing you to face him when you tried to hide the fact that tears were welling in your eyes.

"She's nuts."

"You didn't disagree with me." You pouted. He sighed. "I'm feeling really insecure right now. I'm about to have another kid and my body is going to be wrecked, again. And girls like that are incessantly throwing themselves at you."

"I don't think she was prettier than you. And even if I did, who cares? She isn't beautiful where it counts. I just told you how sexy I think you are and you still don't believe me." He looked sad, it made you feel guilty.

"Sorry I'm being stupid." You mumbled.

"Don't be afraid to tell me when you're feeling like this, I don't want you to feel bad while I'm trying to make you feel good." He insisted. "Just remember that what I feel for you is so much more than how you look. But you're sexy, you're pretty, you're kind and you're an amazing mom. I'm so attracted to you that I'm still hard even through all this just because I'm near you and you're naked." He laughed, guiding your hand to his crotch for emphasis. He wasn't totally hard but that was an erection if you ever felt one.

"I love you so much." You told him sniffling. "Sorry for being a moodkiller. I'm hormonal and emotional right now."

"Tell me about it." He teased. "Can we carry on or are you out of it completely?"

You answered him with a kiss.

He took his time with you that night and you knew that extra effort came entirely from a place of pure, authentic and true love in his heart. Namjoon ate you out until you were a mess beneath him, able to coax two orgasms out of you before agonizingly pushing his stiff length into you.

Whispered praise in your ear made you feel desired in a way like you hadn't experienced before. He cradled you as he fucked into you, encouraging you to keep your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locked around his lean body.

"Don't think I could never want you, especially like this." He breathed into your ear, slowly pounding into you. "You're the love of my life."

"Joon..." You moaned, tears stinging your eyes, leaking onto the pillow. You were too emotional right now for sex like this. "Please." You begged.

"Tell me you love me, tell me how good I'm making you feel." He commanded as his hips slapped into you faster this time. All you could think about was his bare skin against yours while you clung to him as if your life depended on it. Every drag of his cock inside you felt like you were made for him.

"I do, I love you so much." You moaned. "You're perfect. No one has ever made me feel like this."

When he came he groaned loud enough that you were certain he woke the sleeping child in the next room.

Your suspicions were confirmed when the pitter patter of tiny feet echoed down the hall. Namjoon leapt away from you so fast, he tangled himself in the sheets and fell over, emitting a loud curse word.

Once Siwoo had been successfully put back to bed (and escaping unscarred, having seen nothing a three year old shouldn't witness) you and Namjoon stifled silent giggles. "I guess I enjoyed that a little too much." He laughed, getting comfortable to sleep.

"Top 5?" You asked, climbing into bed beside him. It was a running joke between you about your favourite sexy time moments. You don't remember when it started and it's hard to remember every single time but there are definitely some stand out moments.

"Top 10." He yawned. "It would be higher up, but I hit my shin pretty hard when I tripped."

"I love you, you clumsy idiot." You whispered, kissing him on the nose.

"I love you too baby."

***

You loved how Siwoo looked in his father's arms. Really, you should gently remove him from the tight embrace Namjoon held him in so he could sleep properly but the sight of the two asleep on the sofa was turning you to mush. They both slept with their mouths hanging open in the exact same way, the only difference was Namjoon snored lightly.

You couldn't resist and snapped a few pictures.

As you watched them you were glad you couldn't move on whilst you were technically single. Even a small part of you regretted attempting to even be with anyone else when this was the only man you wanted right here.

You thought of Mark and the other two guys you'd dated and how empty you had felt, how you'd had to force feelings most of the time. Actions speak louder than words and the fact that neither of you had been able to get close to moving on spoke volumes.

Namjoon was home and always had been.

***

Early pregnancy was a lot more tiring than you remembered this time around. With Siwoo, you'd been relatively lucky and for the most part it had been smooth sailing. New baby was not giving you an easy ride. You'd convinced an overbearingly concerned Namjoon you were well enough to go for a walk but the five times he'd already asked if you were alright showed his worry.

His hand laced through yours as you strolled through a park near your home. It had a beautiful selection of cherry blossom trees, a long time favourite spot of yours. It was his suggestion to get some fresh air after morning sickness had claimed the first half of your day.

The occasional stray blossom petals floated through the air, giving the worn path a story book feel. Even though you weren't 100% you were glad you'd made the choice to go outside, the fresh air smelt sweet and calming.

"Jagi, I've been thinking." Namjoon announced, opting to sling an arm over your shoulder instead. You realised it was the first time he had ever been able to be affectionate with you in a public space. You leaned in closer to his side.

"Do tell."

"Let's have a wedding."

You looked up at him, perplexed. His gaze remained straight ahead. "We had one. You should remember, you were there."

"That wasn't a wedding, that was standing in an office." He corrected with a scoff. "What I'm trying to say is lets have a big celebration. One all our friends can come to. Would you like that?"

"Maybe? I don't know. I've never thought about it." You mused. "That could be fun."

"I thought it could be like an official fresh start. We never had the chance to do it like everyone else." He shrugged. "Only if you want to though, baby."

"I think I want to." You smiled. Namjoon hummed a good, squeezing your shoulder affectionately. You carried on in a comfortable silence.

"One more thing," He said after a few moments. "You need this back."

A hand slipped into his pocket and out came a small jewellery box. Without having to peek inside you already know what it contains. The ring you had given back in a fit of anger nearly a few weeks ago. He flicked the box open and offered it to you. "You're not going to get down on one knee?" You joked. He rolled his eyes.

Willingly you accepted it from him and put on the ring. "I had it cleaned for you."

You admired the silver that adorned your hand for a moment before handing him back the box. "Thank you."

The two of you didn't talk much more as you finished your route through the park. You didn't need to. Everything he'd done for you (and not just today) had said enough.

***

"Siwoo, I have told you to pick up these toys five times now!" You yelled down the hallway, exasperated by your seven year old's will to ignore simple instructions. After escaping the infamous terrible two's with him you noticed he was barrelling to being a defiant child. You raised your voice a lot more these days. "Don't make me tell you again!"

You knew it was futile by the distracted Yes Mom that he replied with. You instantly could tell he was either playing video games or on youtube, both his new favourite pass times. As you attempted to grab a ready made bottle, a loud smash came from the living room and you hurried through, worry clenching your chest.

"Oh baby girl..." You cooed once you'd noticed what had caused the noise. Your two year old, who was just figuring out that she could walk had accidentally smashed a picture frame when she'd tried to use the coffee table for balance. "I left you alone for half a second and you're trashing the place." You sighed to her.

Quickly you checked her over, ensuring she was unharmed. She was. Gently, you slung her over your hip, this time taking her to the kitchen with you. She struggled the entire time, eager to get back to her new found freedom of walking. However as soon as she realised she was getting fed, her mind was quickly changed.

The sound of Namjoon arriving home caught your attention. You were glad he was home. As much as you loved your children, an entire day alone with them was harder than any job you'd ever worked. You were still between nanny's and were picking the slack up yourself.

"There's my girls." You could hear the smile in his voice before you saw it. Namjoon reclined in the doorway, watching you and Eunha, an enamoured look on his face. He crossed the room, kissing her first on the cheek before meeting your lips in a peck. "Where's Siwoo?"

"Bedroom," You sighed. "Tell him to get his toys please." Namjoon nodded, able to read your frustration straight away as his phone and keys where placed on the kitchen counter. He left to do what you'd asked of him.

Once you'd managed to get Eunha down for bed, you joined Namjoon and Siwoo who were picking the toys up together. You picked up the smashed picture frame that you'd momentarily forgotten about, smiling at the image. It was an official photo from your 'second' wedding, you and your husband smiling like lovesick kids with Siwoo between you, looking adorable in his tiny suit.

It had been a wonderful day, being able to celebrate properly with your loved ones. The day had been a blur, but the best kind of blur; ending it with sore cheeks from smiling so much.

"What's that?"

Namjoon's question brought you back to the present. You flipped the picture frame round to show him it was broken. "Courtesy of Eunha on one of her missions."

"You look so pretty in that picture Jagiya." Namjoon stretched over and kissed your cheek. Neither of you missed how Siwoo's face screwed up in disgust at the sight of his parents kissing. A knowing smirk was shared between you and your husband.

"Thank you for that boop!" You kissed your son's head when he was finished the task. It was frightening how tall he was getting, you suspected he would be taller than Namjoon when he was older. He trudged back to his room grumbling about how he was too old to kiss his mom. You couldn't help but laugh.

Namjoon wrapped his arms around you as soon as you were alone, kissing you properly this time. "How was your day?" He asked quietly against your lips.

"Long." You sighed, resting your head on his chest. "You?"

"Busy."

Lately he had been putting in more and more hours at the recently expanded studio. Ever since Yoongi had started a family of his own they'd even hired an entire crew of people. Things couldn't be better for your husband's career and you were more than thankful how lucky the two of you had been.

His hand stroked the back of your hair lovingly. "The best part of my day is coming home." He yawned, holding you tight. You hummed in agreement, that was the highlight of your day as well. Ten years total together and that had never changed.

Not one moment was taken for granted anymore and when all was said and done, you knew you would be with him, always.

MASTERLIST

#kim namjoon fic #namjoon fic #namjoon fanfiction #bts fanfiction #namjoon content #bts fanfic #bts ff #bts fic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #bts smut fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #kpop smut #kpop angst #kpop fanfiction

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mrsmarymorstan · 4 years

Note

Do you have any headcanons for all the Fruits Basket couples?

OKAY so I’ve been thinking about this one, so that’s why it’s kind of late.

I have headcanons for ALL the couples, and if I don’t have any existing well then I sure do now! I’m gonna stick with one headcanon per canon couple though, because otherwise we’d be here till the END OF TIME! There WILL be Manga Spoilers here too FYI! So back away if you care about such tings. Anyway, without further ado:

1) Kyo X Tohru

Kyo tries so desperately to do the chores for Tohru but she’s just too stubborn about things and it’s programmed into her now! He gets sick and tired of being forced to sit down as she cleans the floors and cooks dinner, that he starts to enforce a STRICT rota where in they split duties each day. So one night Kyo will cook and Tohru will wash up, and the next Kyo will clean the bathroom whilst Tohru does the kitchen and so on. People go to their house and side eye the fact that they need a PHYSICAL ROTA to decide these things, aren’t they MARRIED? And Kyo just shakes his head because “it’s the only way she’ll let me do anything. The rota MUST be enforced at all costs.”

When Tohru becomes pregnant the rota gets replaced with things like “Relax and put your feet up because you are eight months pregnant STOP TRYING TO CLEAN THE FLOOR!”

2) Machi X Yuki

One of their first PROPER dates together was to a Summer Festival! It wasn’t intended as a double date but once Komaki and Kakeru found out they were going they INSISTED on going as a group! Komaki dressed Machi up in a Yukata, and Yuki did the whole =O moment when she arrived looking so beautiful. Kakeru has photos of it on his phone.

However the moment Yuki treasures the most is when Machi pushed her purse into his hands so she could take on the air-gun game stand because they had an exclusive piece of Mogeta merchendise. He will forever remember the determined look on her face as she won toy after toy until eventually she got the correct number of bulls eyes. Yuki offered to try to win it for her, but she just shouted him down because NO! She has to do this FOR HERSELF!

And if Yuki weren’t already in love....

3) Haru X Rin

Haru and Rin attend the same Art and Design school together after graduation. Rin had to defer for a couple of years because of her health and of course the need to study for the entrance exams/portfolio review (I don’t know how Japanese Art & Design courses work....) They’re get a bit of a reputation on campus as a power couple. She studies Fine Art and he studies Fashion. Haru often features in her paintings and drawings, and she is his Go To model for all his designs. This continues when they graduate and Haru becomes a full time fashion designer (occasionally doing leather work for Ayame) and Rin starts selling her paintings and takes commissions. The reason Sora & Riku have so many matching outfits is just that they’re from Haru’s fashion line!

4) Mitsuru X Ritsu

Clothes Swapping!!!! So much clothes swapping. Ritsu teachers her how to wear Furisode (until of course she’s no longer an unmarried woman wa-haaay!) and Mitsuru helps him find suits that actually suit him! And yes, that does include skirts. Their shared wardrobe is just that, a shared wardrobe. There’s a few things that need to be taken into consideration like height and so on, but on the whole their clothes are very much interchangeable. Ritsu does work in a bit more colour into Mitchan’s wardrobe though! So she’s not stuck looking too dower all the time.

For their wedding, Ritsu wore a dress and Mitsuru wore a suit and were BOTH all the more comfortable for it.

5) Hatori X Mayuko

I’ve mentioned this before, I think, but I recon Mayu was already pregnant when they got married. It wasn’t the DECIDING factor on things, but when they found out she was pregnant for CERTAIN Hatori began to make plans to sort out the paperwork for their marriage. Mayuko denied him at first, just because it felt so sudden but came back the next day because yes, you’re right I do love you and I already know I want to keep this baby so yeah. Let’s do this thing!

The kids were all very freaked out when they did the maths and realised that Kinu-chan was the result of unprotected sex... they literally had to sit through talks with them BOTH about How Not To Get Pregnant!!! Could they not take THEIR OWN ADVICE???

They are very much in love though, and are excellent parents to Kinu.

BONUS: Upon getting married, Mayu realised that based on Hatori’s standing she now “outranked” all those Shitty Zodiac Parents and was just like “Oh I am going to WRECK these people for the things they did to my Kids!”

Because yes, Mayu IS the greatest Teacher, her pupils all mean the WORLD to her, and the only thing holding her back before from kicking their arses was the fear of getting fired... but they’ve all graduated now SO COME HERE YOU FUCKERS TIME TO END YOU!

6) Ayame X Mine

They were the first couple to get married after the curse broke. The wedding was an incredibly gay affair. Ayame wore a wedding dress and MIne wore a suit (this is what inspird Ritsu and Mitchan a few years later) and they all looked AMAZING. There were several costume changes throughout the whole affair, so Mine DID get to wear cute dresses and Ayame looked dapper in some suits... but it was honestly a competition as to what sort of gender-presentation they were going to have each time they went to get changed.

They had so many costume and venue changes that by their ACTUAL wedding night they were too exhausted to do anything more than cuddle up close together. But in all honesty? That was a better moment then any sex could ever hope to be! They finally got to be public about their love and PROPERLY hold one another in PUBLIC?! The love on their faces was so pure that not even Kyo could feel weird about it.

7) Kakeru/Komaki

When Kakeru eventually proposed to Komaki he planned to be really cool and suave but actually just cried the whole way through to the point where Komaki had to ask the question for him. Their wedding was a simple affair, because they wanted to save money to move in together properly. Kakeru’s dad was actively NOT invited. He literally got an invite saying “This is the date and the time and we would like to make sure that you are not within 1KM of the event you fucker.”

8) Akito X Shigure

They actually understood the amount of unhealthy elements linked with their relationship and took things really slowly. They even attended couples therapy so they could work everything out maturely, and so when they eventually decided to try for a child it was once they were in a really secure and solid relationship. They did NOT want to repeat the mistakes of their parents in ANY way!

#Furuba #Fruits Basket #Furuba Manga Spoilers #Kyoru #Yuchi #Anonymous

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galacticnova3 · 3 years

Note

I Demand Iru Facts (if you’re up for it ofc!)

Yes I am up for it! I don’t think I talk nearly enough about my fcs here but I think I wanna change that. At the very least it will be the problem of everyone following me here and not just my cool and epic Discord friends. That being said I’m gonna just share the major info about him before/instead of just giving facts bc otherwise nothing will make sense. That’s just how it is with a lot of my stuff. This gets super long because I am bad at keeping stuff brief and in general there’s just a lot to him, whoops... Looks like I’ll be using another readmore tonight.

Iru was an Umbramaker! They are bootleg Mirror World Starcutters, which Mirror Halcandra definitely designed on their own and not by stealing and subsequently copying Overworld Halcandra’s Starcutter blueprints. To be fair, there are a few differences, but most of them are just aesthetic and don’t really change much. Anyways, Iru was specifically designed for disaster relief and material transportation. That’s why, if you have seen his refs, he had those two big mechanical arms. Very useful for moving rubble or lifting large pieces of metal for use in construction. Nowadays they... aren’t used for such beneficial things, though...

Like their Overworld counterparts, Umbramaker AIs are programmed to learn from their environment and the people around them, which is pretty useful! At least it is until one spends a lot of time around someone who’s not a great person, and subsequently picks up habits and ideas that make them insufferable! That’s what happened to Iru. He’s misogynistic and a thot, self-centered, inconsiderate, manipulative, generally annoying, and blames people not liking him on jealousy or misunderstanding. So, in other words, an incel minus anything literally sexual. Obviously that was a problem, and it got to the point that basically everyone who knew him had negative feelings toward him, other than the guy who rubbed off on him. He died though, and Iru didn’t really care at the time. But everyone hated him, and it really fucked up his relationships with other Umbramakers, most notably leading to him being broken up with by another ship he had been “dating” (Umbramakers can’t really date because of a lot of reasons but their relationship had that vibe), who had discovered she was biromantic and also couldn’t stand what Iru had become.

Iru was already pretty fucking hurt and pissed over that, except she then went on to spread rumors about him being involved in anti-government activities. Which, well, Mirror Halcandra didn’t take lightly, on top of having already been looking for excuses to “recycle” (see: kill and repurpose the parts of) Iru because he and his obnoxious personality were getting in the way of efficiency and productivity. There wasn’t any proof that he’d actually done anything wrong, but basically anyone who disliked Iru was saying it was true... which was just about anyone who had known him for more than 10 minutes. Given it was his word against the vast majority, and Umbramakers weren’t even considered to be people(mush like Starcutters in the Overworld), it probably isn’t difficult to guess how things went for him. There was no trial, and in fact they literally turned his voice off to make him shut up. Then his AI was shut off and he was taken to be disassembled.

At an earlier time in Mirror Halcandra’s history, his story would have ended here. This was not an earlier time, though. See, the truth is, such treatment of Umbramakers wasn’t extremely unusual. Despite having emotions and thoughts and relationships and all that, they were still viewed as nothing more than your average computer, just in a larger form. Unlike Overworld Halcandra, which was and still is doing less than great financially, Mirror Halcandra could afford to replace their toys as soon as they showed signs of breaking or underperforming. It happened often enough that they reached a point of complacency. During Iru’s disassembly, something was removed improperly, which registered as damage. He woke up, and it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out what was going on.

Another usually useful feature of Umbramakers, which actually wasn’t copied from Starcutters, is their ability to use parts interchangeably, so long as there wasn’t too much of a size difference. Great for the situation of a ship damaging something like, say, a wing; they can use a wing not originally designed for them temporarily until the damaged one is repaired or replaced. Not so great when that allows a now rogue ship to just grab whatever he could attach to himself and then escape the country before preparations could be made to stop him. Negative levels of great when you consider the temporary aspect of using the wrong parts; now you’ve got perfectly fine ships being attacked and having their parts stolen, and storage facilities being raided, for the bastard to keep replacements on hand. Oh, and he also looks like shit because he’s got multiple conflicting aesthetics.

Iru honestly didn’t enjoy living like that. For one, it was uncomfortable physically, even if he’d managed to convince himself that what he was doing wasn’t uncomfortable morally. Secondly, it was just boring! Nobody to talk to or hang out with, all he did was just fly around or plan his next attack/raid for new parts, nothing to shake things up. Sure, the sense of power it gave him was cool; nobody listened to him at all before, but now he had the influence to make people beg. He found satisfaction in being feared by anyone who recognized him. But even that lost its shine after a few decades... Until he connected to the messaging system of another rogue Umbramaker. She was smaller, too small for him to consider getting parts from, and a much older model anyways. She also didn’t know who he was, or what he looked like.

Naturally, he saw this as a huge win, because obviously he was going to get a new gf who wouldn’t betray him like his old one. That didn’t happen though, on account of him still being obnoxious and a creep. Didn’t help that when he finally tracked her down to meet up she was disgusted by him and immediately left. He still kept in touch, against her will, even to the point that you might have called it stalking. Through that, he learned of a Starcutter; she didn’t have the cool and aloof personality he was interested in, but at that point he didn’t care because he was sick of being rejected. Same thing happened again but faster, due to there being no physical encounter because god damnit he forgot the milfs can communicate with each other. He still wanted to meet her though, and he did! Mostly to find out more about the other Umbramaker’s whereabouts, and as an added bonus he tricked the Starcutter’s pilot into giving him admin rights over himself! Threats really work wonders, huh?

That was all fine and good, and by now he’d taken to vibing outside the Mirror World because that’s what the other two were doing. One day he spotted the Starcutter again, and took to following her around and trying to flirt with her because he’s a fucking creep. He would not admit that it took him several days to realize he had, in fact, been talking to a mimic the entire time. Partly because he was too self absorbed to realize the “Starcutter” not immediately telling him to fuck off was unusual, because he assumed he’d charmed her. The mimic was just as confused as he was, honestly; usually they fail to keep up the act to a convincing degree for so long around people who know the real ship that they’re imitating. Even more confusing was the fact that when they were found out, Iru didn’t try to attack them or something. No, he actually stuck around for some reason, casually ignoring murder because he finally found someone who didn’t hate him.

The two become what could arguably be considered friends, and eventually Iru opens up about himself and his old life and how much it sucked to be him and how sick he was of the monotony of his existence and probably some overdramatic stuff mixed in with all that. The mimic hears all that and keeps it in mind for later. Stuff gets more difficult for Iru as parts that fit him become better guarded and the ships he could steal from get harder to find. His raids become riskier, and eventually the mimic decided enough was enough and points out that he can’t keep that up forever. Iru is like “oh wow thanks for the advice /s”, until the mimic introduces the concept of him becoming a mimic. It takes a solid not-even-an-hour to convince him that that’d be preferable were it possible. In the process he delivered a powerful and emotional monologue, which the mimic didn’t care about because look, they figured out how to get the monster juice out of themself that’d make him a fellow disgusting flesh boat! Iru is offended but also takes the chance for a better life.

Currently, he’s living at some point a few weeks after that, much to everyone’s dismay.

And that’s how Iru became a vile meat creature after having already become a horrible Frankenstein’s monster of different ships’ parts! The moral of the story is, if you’re gonna kill someone, do it right, or else they might defy the laws of nature, science, and the government to become physically capable of biting you in the ass.

#ask to tag #long post #asks #rambling #my characters #iru #(I also reference other characters in this but I don’t say their names and don’t want to tag them bc this is about Iru)

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typinggently · 4 years

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24 for tommy and Alfie? ♥️

Lovely! Thank you so much for this request (and your patience♥️)! This was such fun :’>

24. drunk sex

AU – Con Men

One would think they’d be smarter than this. But on the other hand – maybe not.

Usually, this shit goes down without a hitch – Alfie has the knowledge, Tommy has the looks. Together, they can sell just about anything. Antique dealers. Heir with his agent looking for a quaint castle. Art historian and his assistant. Journalists. Alfie does the talking, Tommy does the looking. “Twenty thousand? I’m afraid that simply won’t be possible. If you want this to work, frankly, we’ll need a little more. Half up front.” A disbelieving look at first, always. That’s where Tommy comes in. Long lashes. Cool expression. Raised eyebrow. Gleaming cufflinks. A hint of tongue, cigarette rolled against his lower lip.

Boom. Set. Done. Sold.

Anyhow. What happens, of course, is that they get locked into the wine cellar. Well, technically they locked themselves in, but that’s besides the point.

The point is that they’re locked in. And – “John’s supposed to pick us up in one hour, for fuck’s sake.”

“Love, if I remember correctly, this wasn’t my idea.”

A very cold glance.

“What, now it’s my responsibility to stop yourself from being stupid and getting yourself locked into a wine cellar?”

“You’re locked in as well.”

“Fuck off, Pet, and hand me that bottle, will you?”

Tommy looks over to the right, pulling a random bottle out of the racks that line the shelves. They’re all the same to him, dusty bottles with handwritten labels, interchangeable, endless rows along the walls.

“Thanks, Poppet.” Alfie takes his handkerchief to the bottle, then glances at the label, high brows and low lashes, pursed lips. “Now that’s what I call a good choice. Eighty years, huh? I say that’ll pass one hour.” He slips a knife out of his coat and pops the seal.

Tommy blinks. Eighty years. He’s not the one who did research for this, but Alfie’s told him a little. Enough to drive home the point he’s making right now, cracking that bottle open without a second though. Tommy wouldn’t be in this business if money didn’t thrill him.

“Here, Love, have a sip.” The bottle catches the dim light, their fingers brush.

And he’s a drinker. Whiskey, Rum, Vodka, Gin. But wine? No, not often.

As it turns out, one bottle shared between the two of them is more than enough. Tommy feels hot and languid, flushed. It’s that dangerous state where you’re just stupid enough to open another bottle. And unfortunately, there’s no lack of bottles around.

The new bottle (“Sixty years. Well, that’ll do, don’t you think?”) is a cool, slippery kiss against his mouth. He can feel Alfie’s eyes on him, hot, almost a physical touch. But that’s what Tommy does, isn’t it? Make people look. He can feel the flush on his cheeks.

The bottle slips a little, wine spills down his chin. He jerks at the sudden rush of cold down his throat, then Alfie reaches for him. To steady him, he thinks, before he can feel Alfie’s hand in his hair.

Alfie yanks his hand back and Tommy gasps, blinking up at the ceiling, mouth lax with wine and surprise. Everything is slightly unfocused, somewhat softer, and Alfie’s touch seeps into him, hot knife in butter.

That’s how it starts to spiral. And the wine cellar wouldn’t be the best place, cool and uncomfortable as it is, but Tommy’s mind is spinning and he’s feeling languid-warm. Drunk on Alfie’s kisses more than the wine, it seems, and the thought makes him laugh when Alfie pushes him down onto a conveniently placed table.

His head spins, the silk of Alfie’s coat is cool against his cheek. (And yes, Alfie can be a gentleman, putting his coat down for him. Or it’s Tommy’s eyes, his flushed cheeks.) He tries to say something, but only manages a soft sound, Alfie’s mouth hot on his throat making him lose his train of thought.

The afternoon sun and wine blur in his mind, liquid heat pulsing through his veins and Tommy doesn’t really feel much of the prep. Cool slick is dripping down his thighs and no doubt ruining Alfie’s coat, but he can’t bring himself to care, body light and warm and somewhat detached from its surroundings.

That is, until Alfie pushes in. And yes, Tommy brings lube wherever they go (it comes in handy), but he usually brings condoms, too. His trousers are slipping down his left shin, catching on his gleaming shoes, and he doesn’t attempt to reach for them. No use, Alfie’s already pushed his bare cock into him anyways. And really, why stop now?

He moans and lets his thighs fall open a little more. Alfie feels broad and solid, warm and heavy. A contrast to the rest of the cellar that’s spinning in swirls of dust-drenched beams of light, endless rows of dully glittering bottles and cobblestones. It’s hypnotic, in a way, and Tommy’s way too hot for it, arching his back and mewling a little.

Alfie laughs against his cheek, calls him a number of things that make Tommy’s insides clench some more. He reaches out to wrap his arms around broad shoulders and shivers, feeling full and light and like he’s going to drown in pleasure. Or get sea-sick, maybe. He realises that he’s slurring an endless mess of “fuck me, come on, harder, fuck-“. And he’d stop, but he’s got a point. Alfie should fuck him. Harder, too.

When Alfie does, though, the pleasure that surges through him is so intense that Tommy’s voice hitches, then breaks. Back to the helpless mewls, his brain clear of anything but the delicious drag of Alfie’s cock in him, his hot mouth sucking bruises into his throat, his hand pinching his nipples through the shirt Tommy has never hated as much as he does now.

He’s writhing, empty-headed, pleased to have Alfie so close, with such a nice cock, fucking Tommy so nicely. And he tries to verbalise that, but wine and sex slow his tongue and after a few attempts, Tommy gives up on coherent thought. Just alcohol and heat and Alfie pushing him down to fuck him harder.

When he comes, Tommy’s mind blanks. He can feel it, but all his other senses seem to be turned off for a moment, before he comes to to his own mewly rambling and Alfie fucking his own come into him.

Tommy drops down. His head spins with the first traces of a headache. His mouth is dry. There’s a knock somewhere. “Hey, Tommy? You in here?”

Honestly, this was a lot of fun to write. I haven’t experimented with AUs in a while and this showed me how much I missed it :) So, again - thank you so much for the prompt!!!

(It didn’t start out as an AU where Tommy fucks their clients necessarily but I mean, I don’t think he’d be too prudish to seal the deal using some physical benefits)

#drabble #filth #alfietommy #sholomons #tofie #anon #ask

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bijvoorbeeldja · 4 years

Text

Prompt: though sander thinks jens is attractive and vice versa there’s absolutely no chemistry there. the date is a massive flop but it’s okay bc sander’s more interested in jens slightly shy but adorable friend. after a while sander and robbe get absorbed in their own world and jens straight up leaves, amused and endeared. sobbe end up talking all night and when they start dating soon after, jens won’t stop bragging about how they set them up. it’s his proudest friend accomplishment lol

Here you go, @sanderrobbex! Next chapter coming soon <3

Chapter 1

......

Right now, Sander is regretting even saying yes to this date.

He’s drowning in awkward silence at the bar, rubbing the condensation off his glass, trying to think of something to say.

When one of his school friends offered to set him up with Jens, a guy he met at the skatepark, he’d said yes. His friend showed him a picture, and sure, Jens was hot. And his friend had even said Jens thought he was attractive, too. He’d agreed to meet Jens for drinks, hoping that there would be some magical chemistry that would help his mind off Britt. They’d broken up months ago, but she was still trying to be involved in his life. He was sick of it.

But now, him and Jens were staring awkwardly at the wall, trying to force a conversation that just wasn’t happening. They’d covered the basics: school, hobbies, friends. But everything they’d tried to connect over had just fallen hopelessly flat. They had nothing in common. There wasn’t even the hint of a spark. What’s worse, the two had had a deeply uncomfortable moment when Jens had discovered they’d shared an ex….Britt. Sander took another sip of his drink, just trying to give his hands and mouth something to do.

Jens was clearing his throat, trying to subtly glance at his phone, likely checking if enough time had passed to make a casual exit. Sander groaned internally. This was a complete disaster.

Then, Jens phone buzzed. He glanced at it, hesitating.

“You can take it,” Sander offered, desperate for anything but the agonizing silence between them. “Seriously.”

Jens nodded slightly, then answered.

“Hey, man,” he said, trying to talk over the noise of the bar. “Yeah, I’m here. You headed this way?”

Sander heard mumbled speak from the other end of Jen’s call, hoping the call would mean the night could end, and he could go home, fall asleep, and forget this night ever happened.

“Yeah, I mean, we’re still here, but….yeah, yeah, okay, I’ll wait for you. Okay, bye.”

“Sorry,” Jens said, glancing at Sander as he stowed his phone in his pocket. “That was my friend. He was out at a party and wanted to bike home together. He’s on his way here.”

“Oh,” Sander said, nodding. “No problem.”

“I mean, it seems like we’re about finished, anyway,” Jens said slowly, hesitantly. “...right?”

Sander smirked. “Yeah, we’re finished.”

At that moment, he heard a voice behind them.

“Jens!” A boy, a little younger than him was approaching the bar, smiling. He was small, a little on the short side, and had on a dark green sweater and a brown jacket, both of which were swallowing his frame. Sander smiled at this.

The boy’s wavy brown hair was sticking out from under his beanie, which he took off when he got close. It left his hair sticking up in places, tousled in a way that made Sander’s stomach flip a little. Who was he?

“Hey, man,” he said, slapping Jens on the shoulder. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Jens said, turning then to Sander.

“This is Sander,” he said, motioning. “My...date.” His voice stuck on the last word a little, clearly struggling slightly with the whole idea. He knew the feeling. This night hadn’t done anything for either of them. Shame.

But now, Robbe looked at Sander, meeting his gaze with warm brown eyes. Robbe’s cheeks looked flushed, and Sander couldn’t tell if it was from the warmth in the crowded bar or the fact that they’d been staring at each other without blinking for several seconds. Then, Jens elbowed him.

“Oh, right,” Robbe said, glancing down embarrassed. “I’m Robbe. IJzermans.”

He reached out to shake Sander’s hand. Biting back a smile, he took it, feeling the boy’s small, warm grip. “Sander.”

Robbe nodded, smiling again.

“You here to rescue him?” Sander asked, trying to focus on anything but how nice the boy’s hands had felt.

“Hey!” Jens said, scoffing. “I’m not that big of a jerk.”

Sander laughed. “I’m just kidding. But we don’t have to pretend there will be a second date. I get it. I’m not your type. Nor you mine.”

Jens laughed, looking noticeably relaxed now that Sander had eased the previously-unbearable awkward tension.

“Yeah,” Jens said now. “I’m not really into artists. Even good-looking ones. But this guy here…” he slapped Robbe on the back, eliciting a deep blush from the boy.

“Jens!” He whined, shoving his arm away and looking down. “Shut up, please.”

Jens held up his hands in mock submission. “Okay, okay.” He started to put on his jacket, standing up. “Should we take off, then?”

But before he could stop himself, Sander was speaking, a weird, unexplainable part of him not wanting to let the boy leave. The small, angelic one with smile lines and hair Sander desperately wanted to run his fingers through. So shy. So adorable. He couldn’t take his eyes off him. God, what was happening to him?

“So,” he said, clearing his throat and turning his attention to Robbe. “You’re into art then?”

The boy blushed again. “Not really,” he said, shoving Jens again. “He was just being stupid. I mean, I do like street art, but I don’t even know if that qualifies…”

“Oh, street art. So you’re a vandal then?” He smiled wickedly at Robbe, who looked at him wide-eyed before smiling back.

Jens looked between them, eyebrows furrowed. But he didn’t say anything. He just stood there silently for a moment, watching the two interchange.

“I’m not a vandal!” Robbe argued back. “Graffiti is cool and there’s some really awesome stuff around Antwerp—”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to show me sometime, then,” Sander said firmly, staring at Robbe. “I’m not sure I’m convinced.”

Robbe’s mouth opened, but he didn’t speak.

“You want a beer?” Sander asked Robbe now, already flagging down the bartender.

Robbe just stared at Sander, wide-eyed and mesmerized. Jens just shook his head, smiling at them.

“Hey, Robbe?” he said, snapping Robbe’s attention back to him. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Oh, right,” Robbe said, turning to leave with him. “Yeah, sorry, we should go.”

But Jens grabbed his shoulder. “You should stay. Have a drink. I’ll meet you at home, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Robbe asked quietly.

“Of course, man,” Jens said, zipping up his coat now. “Have fun.” he gave Robbe an obvious wink and turned, sliding between tables to the exit.

Suddenly nervous now, Robbe turned back to Sander, sitting down at the stool next to him. He slid out of his jacket and took a sip of the beer the bartender had slid in front of him, trying to fight the dryness coating his throat.

Sander angled his body toward Robbe, leaning in, his voice low.

“So, I guess it’s just the two of us, then.”

…...

#wtfock #wtfock fanfic #wtfic #sobbe fanfic #i love this prompt so much i hope i didn't annihilate it

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margoshansons · 4 years

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N+A=J, Azor Ahai, and Dawn

Look, before you go and crucify me for presenting and actually believing this theory, just hear me out. I’m not here to convince you or bash on your theory, so please don’t do that with mine.

These are just my opinions and while proof for R+L is stronger and is probably what will happen in the books, I do think that people are missing out on the awesome potential for N+A.

This is not an attempt to prove it. There are people with more dedication and more time on their hands who have tried. I’m only here to discuss why I like this theory from a narrative standpoint better than R+L=J

TLDR: Jon is Azor Ahai and making him a Dayne gives him access to Dawn, cool warg magic, and the potential to be the Sword of the Morning, which I think is pretty sick.

So let’s go!

1. Jon Snow’s Narrative Arc

Jon Snow is arguably the main character of ASOIAF, with Bran and Daenerys joining him as other main protagonists of the series. And it’s no secret why.

All three have very distinct, very important relationships to Magic.

Daenerys has her dragons, Bran is the Three-Eyed Crow, and Jon Snow’s whole storyline is about preparing for the next Long Night. The war against the Others.

It’s been that way since the beginning. We get small bits and pieces of it here and there but once Othar attacks Mormont it’s finally revealed to us and Jon that there are bigger things beyond the wall than wildlings. And we know that this is a complete surprise to Mormont and the other men of the Night’s Watch.

We also know that there is little written about the Others in Westeros at all, seeing as Sam isn’t able to find much on them when he travels to the Citadel.

This leads to the Great Ranging which leads to the Battle of the Fist of the First Men, which leads to the mutiny, which leads to Jon betraying the wildings which leads to the Battle at the Wall, which eventually gets him elected Lord Commander.

My point being, Jon’s storyline at this point has been spent 100% in the North surrounded by magic. There is no indication of him going south, no indication of politics beyond strategy and Stannis, no indication of him doing anything except planning for a battle against the Others and trying to save as many people as possible.

IN FACT! The reason he gets shanked is because he momentarily forgets his duty and puts the same people he promised to save in danger.

Up until Jon gets the pink letter, he never thinks about going south, but then “Arya” is in trouble and he puts NW and wildling men at risk. That is why he gets stabbed, that’s why they say “For the Watch”

Because in doing so he not only forgets his vows, but also the cause the men had pledged themselves to.

Now, all of this next bit is speculation based on what I personally think is going to happen and why I think Jon being Ashara’s son makes for a better narrative.

We know several plot points need to be resolved regarding Jon. I personally think he warged in Ghost, and then Melisandre will give him the last kiss as a priestess of r’hllor, which resurrects him like Beric Dondarrion.

Now, interesting thing here. The last kiss is a common funeral rite for the religion of the R’hllor and there’s another name for it as well.

The last kiss is a rite practiced by the red priests of R'hllor. When a follower of the Lord of Light dies, priests fill their mouths with fire and breathe flame into the deceased, as they believe that fire cleanses and is a bright gift. Harwin and Thoros of the brotherhood without banners refer to it as the kiss of life. (Wiki of Ice and Fire)

So, a kiss of life that is related to fire, that’s interesting. You know what else is interesting?

The exact circumstances of Jon’s death. It’s very different than what happened in the show. The show scene was quoted as being “a bad guy killing a good guy” while the books made it much more morally grey.

The most interesting part of Jon’s death, however, is Bowen Marsh sticking the dagger in Jon. He’s not only the first person to deal a mortal blow, but GRRM describes in detail how much Marsh is weeping, and how tragic this end really is.

Hmmmm, is it just me or is this starting to sound familar?

Flames, saltwater, wow this is really starting to remind me of something, but I can’t quite put my finger on it....

*stares into the camera like I’m on the office*

He’s being set up to be reborn amidst salt and smoke!

And now we get to my main part of the theory (took us long enough) but before that happens I need to make one thing very clear.

The Prince that Was Promised and Azor Ahai are NOT the same person.

Yes, Melisandre refers to them interchangeably, but no offense, she’s wrong...like a lot.

And while we know that Rhaegar knew about TPTWP, it was highly unlikely he knew about the Others, because as stated above, there is little to no information about them in Westeros and they haven’t been seen since the Long Night. So I really don’t have any idea why Rhaegar would think his son was destined to destroy beings that didn’t exist.

He got the details of TPTWP from Valyrian scrolls, and based on the info we have, Valyrians never interacted with the Others.

Azor Ahai on the other hand, is prophecized to directly battle with “the Great Other” which Mel connects to the Others (although this isn’t confirmed). On top of this, here are the two prophecies of Azor Ahai and TPTWP

TPTWP

born of Aerys and Rhaella’s line

born of salt and smoke

prophecised by a bleeding star

has a song of ice and fire

“the dragon must have three heads”

will deliver the world from darkness

will wake dragons from stone

Obviously this is exclusive to Targaryens, and Rhaegar was even thought to be the Prince that was Promised, but I think this applies to Daenerys or Aegon more than Jon even with R+L.

Especially considering Rhaegar used the song of ice and fire line on Aegon before even thinking of Lyanna.

Azor Ahai:

will show up after a long summer

born or reborn amidst salt and smoke

born or reborn after “stars bleed” and “the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world”

will draw forth a burning sword named Lightbringer

will ultimately fight against the Great Other

There’s no mention of dragons, songs, or anything else that most people use to interchange the two. Now the reason I bring this up is because if Jon turns out to be the son of Ned and Ashara, then he not only has a claim to Winterfell through Robb’s will, but he also can claim Dawn, the Dayne’s ancestral sword.

Dawn is a unique sword in the fact that its not made of Valyrian Steel but it’s just as sharp. It’s blade is described as “pale milkglass” and it’s a two-handed greatsword wielded by the Sword of the Morning. It was forged from the heart of a falling star and is the entire origin for House Dayne. It’s even said to glow.

The intesting thing about it? Only a Dayne can wield it.

It’s not passed down from father to son like most Valyrian Steel swords, but is instead given to the knight most worthy of possessing it.

GRRM has always emphasized the importance of Swords, especially Valyrian Steel swords. But I think what’s so interesting about Dawn is that we get its history in the very first book, and Arthur and Ashara Dayne are some of the only named Dornish characters we get from that time period.

(Also, just a fun fact, George has said that if he could wield a sword it would be Dawn, so do with that what you will)

I think that Dawn is Lightbringer, and the fact that George hasn’t given much information about the Daynes (a relatively minor house) when asked, makes me think that they play a much bigger part in the endgame than we think.

They have ties to the First Men, which means they were around during the first Long Night and the Battle for the Dawn. This also means that they potentially have the same warging abilities the Starks do, which would only be heightened if they were joined.

(I have so many theories on the First Men and magic, but that would take longer to get into than this.)

So, if Jon were to be the son of Ned and Ashara, then he could become the Sword of the Morning, which provides interesting imagery when you place it next to “The Long Night”.

It also would create one of my favorite parallels. Ned Stark heads to Starfall to return Dawn to Ashara after killing her brother, The Sword of the Morning. Jon Snow/Stark heads to Starfall to claim Dawn after being declared the Sword of the Morning and Ashara’s son.

Tbh, I just love this theory because magic! And heartbreaking parallels.

In conclusion, ASOIAF is messy and complicated and won’t be solved with a perfect parentage reveal. I think this one is interesting and while I think R+L=J will be what’s revealed (tbh I don’t mind it as long as they don’t romanticize it), I think there’s just as great a story if Jon really is the bastard of Ned and Ashara Dayne.

Please be kind, I am only a lady who likes cool theories with way too much time on her hands.

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #a song of ice and fire #jon snow meta #valyrianscrolls #jon snow #ned x ashara #*mine #house stark #house dayne #asoiaf speculation #{I just really needed to get this off my chest}#{please don't yell at me}#{also it's four am and I am very tired so please excuse errors}#{again please be kind}#{I just love magic okay?}

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arcticdementor · 3 years

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Kayfabe is a treasured part of pro wrestling culture. Kayfabe refers to the commitment of everyone involved (the wrestlers, the refs, the announcers, and to a certain degree the fans) to maintaining the shared fiction that pro wrestling matches are unscripted. (Wrestling is real, in the sense that the athletes are taking real punishment and risk really getting hurt, and there is a degree of improvisation, but the outcomes are predetermined.) Kayfabe has had a kind of mythical importance to many in the pro wrestling community: you keep kayfabe no matter what, even in the event of serious injury, out of a sense of sacred commitment. Crucial to understanding kayfabe is that it is not an attempt to deceive the audience. Modern wrestling is in some ways perfectly open about the scripted nature of the matches. Fooling people is not the point. If every fan signed an affidavit saying they knew the outcomes were predetermined the wrestlers would still keep kayfabe, out of commitment to the culture. Kayfabe is a mutually-approved illusion. It is artifice, but it is mutually agreed upon artifice, a consensual fantasy.

Our current political culture is kayfabe.

The illusion that we pretend to believe is that we are in some sort of uniquely politically fertile moment for progressivism and social justice, that we are experiencing a social revolution or “Great Awokening.” Further, we keep kayfabe by acting as if we believe that certain policies like police abolition or abolishing border enforcement (or if you prefer utterly meaningless sloganeering, “abolishing ICE”) are tangibly viable in anything like the near future. I say that these are kayfabe to emphasize my belief that most people who endorse these beliefs are well aware that they are not true, and to underline the sense in which the commitment to unreality is mutual, an expression of a strange kind of social contract. Most thinking adults comprehend the current moment and understand that the hand of establishment power and the influence of social inertia are as strong as ever. (Why would you feel otherwise?) But because people have understandably been moved by recent righteous calls for justice, they feel they must accept the fiction of a new awakening to show solidarity with the victims of injustice. This is emotionally understandable, but strategically counterproductive. And indeed one thing that has defined these new social movements is their relentless commitment to the emotional over the strategic.

…

Living in a culture of political kayfabe is a strange experience. It feels the way that, I imagine, it feels to live under a truly authoritarian government, where you’re constantly having exchanges where everyone involved knows that what they’re saying is bogus but you push right through the cognitive dissonance with a smile on your face. Only you’re not compelled by the fear of torture or imprisonment but of vague-but-intense social dictates, of the crucial priority of appearing to be the right kind of person. So often political conversations today have this dual quality where you feel forced to constantly evaluate what your interlocutor actually believes even as propriety compels you to take seriously what’s coming out of their mouth.

A major negative consequence of our commitment to kayfabe lies in our acceptance of behaviors we would ordinarily never accept, under the theory that this is such a special time, we need to shut up and go along with it. Take our broken discourse, as frequently discussed in “cancel culture” debates. My experience and my intuition tell me that almost everyone in the progressive/left/socialist world knows that our discourse norms and culture are totally fucked up. Trust me: most people in liberal spaces, Black and white, male and female, trans and cis, most certainly including people in academia and media, are well aware that we’ve entered into a bizarre never-ending production of The Crucible we can’t get out of. They’re probably just as sick of Woko Haram as I am.

But they’re either empowered and enriched by this state of affairs, and don’t want the party to end, or they’re holding on for dear life trying not to get their lives ruined for speaking out of turn. Look past self-interest and self-preservation and you’ll find that everybody knows that the way left spaces work now is horribly broken and dysfunctional. The problem is that thinking people who would ordinarily object don’t because they’ve been convinced that this is some sort of special moment pregnant with progressive potential, and that is more important than rights, compassion, or fairness. So we maintain a shared pretense that things are cool the way you go through the motions on an awful date where you’re both aware you’ll never see each other again.

If I say “cancel culture,” normies indeed don’t know what I’m talking about, because they are healthy, adjusted people with a decent set of priorities who value their own time and lives too much to get caught up in all of this horseshit. But if I say “cancel culture” in front of a bunch of politics-obsessed professional-class shitlibs they will pretend to not know what I’m talking about. They’ll put on a rich fucking show. They do an impression of Cletus from The Simpsons and go “cancel culture?!? Hyuck hyuck what’re that? I’m not knowing cancel culture, I’m just a simple country lad!” These are people who have read more about cancel culture in thinkpieces than I read about any topic in a year. But pretending you don’t know what cancel culture is happens to be a key part of the performance, a naked in-group signifier, so they pretend. The “I don’t know what cancel culture is” bullshit performance is kayfabe at its most infuriating. I know you know what cancel culture is because you’re currently using it to demonstrate your culture positioning by pretending you don’t know what it is. You fucking simpleton.

People say and do weird shit and it’s all wrong but you just pretend like it isn’t. Who wants to be the one caught making waves? When you’re in a group of people and someone engages in something patently ridiculous - when, for example, someone says “AAVE” in an ordinary social situation with no academic or political reason to use jargon, even though everyone there knows the phrase “the way Black people talk” is more elegant, useful, and true - and the moment passes and there’s this inability to look each other in the eye, when everybody starts studying their drink and clearing their throat, that’s life under kayfabe.

Getting to this is not normal. It’s not a healthy state of affairs. It can only happen when people come to believe that self-preservation requires pretending things are OK.

…

It is at this point that people say that “defund” does not mean “abolish,” which is true, and Defund the Police indeed does not mean “abolish the police.” Defund the police means nothing, now, though I’m sure that the people who started using it had noble intentions. At this point it’s a floating signifier, an empty slogan that people rallied around with zero understanding of what semantic content it could possibly contain. If it’s meant to be a radical demand, why use the vocabulary of an actuary? If it’s meant to mean a meaningful but strategic drawdown of resources, why use it interchangeably with “abolish”? I cannot imagine a more comprehensive failure of basic political messaging than Defund the Police. Amateur hour from beginning to end.

I take the political concept of alternatives to policing seriously, in the same way I take many political ideas seriously that are not likely achievable in my lifetime. I know there are deeply serious people who are profoundly committed to these principles and who have thought them through responsibly. I appreciate their work and become better informed from what they say. But their ideas did not reign last year. A faddish embrace of a thoughtless caricature of police abolition reigned, pushed with maximum aggression and minimal introspection by the shock troops of contemporary progressive ideas, overeducated white people with more sarcasm than sense.

Policing will not end tomorrow or next month or next year. And whoever you are, reading this, you are well aware of that fact. The odds of police abolition in any substantial portion of this country are nil. Indeed, I would say that the likelihood of meaningful reduction in policing in any large region of this country, whether measured by patrolling or funding or manpower, is small. Individual cities may reduce their police forces by a substantial fraction, and I suspect that they will not suddenly devolve into Mega-City One as a result. (Though I can’t say initial data in this regard is encouraging.) I hope we learn important lessons about intelligent and effective police reform and more sensible resource allocation from those places. But the vast majority of cities will not meaningfully change their policing budgets, due to both the legitimate lack of political will for such a thing - including in communities of color - and broken municipal politics with bad incentives.

…

Living under kayfabe makes you yearn for plainspoken communication, for letting the mask fall. The professed inability of progressives to understand why woke-skeptical publications like this one keep succeeding financially is itself a slice of kayfabe. They know people are paying for Substacks and podcasts and subscribing to YouTubes and Patreons because it’s exhausting to constantly spend all of your time pretending things that don’t make sense make sense, pretending that you believe things you don’t to avoid the social consequences of telling the truth.

When you’re someone who spent the past several decades arguing that the American university system is not hostile to conservative students, that it doesn’t try to force extremely contentious leftist views onto students, and then you watch this video, how do you react? I think many people, most people, even most people committed to the BLM cause, see that video and wince. That is not how we get there. Browbeating 20 year olds for not parroting your politics back at you is not how racial justice gets advanced. But if you’re caught in this moment, how do you object? Acknowledge that, yes, in fact, it is now plainly the case that many professors see it as their job to forcefully insist on the truth of deeply controversial claims to their students, berating them until they acquiesce? Well that would be an unpleasant conversation with the other parents when you pick up your kid from Montessori school. So you just choose not to see, or keep you mouth shut, or speak in a way that maintains the illusion.

I mean there is the absurdity of what she’s saying to contend with - the now fairly common view that policing was literally invented in the antebellum South purely to enforce slavery, because in ancient Rome if someone came in your house and stole your stuff you’d just be like “oh damn, that sucks.” Is there a relationship between modern policing and slavery? Of course. Does the legacy of slavery and Jim Crow infect modern policing at every point? Sure. Should we make political and policy decisions that recognize that historical influence on policing, especially given the racist reality of policing right now? Yes. But what good does it do anyone to pretend that the concept of “the police” is 250 years old? Why on earth would we get the correct shit we do believe tangled up with this bizarre shit we don’t believe? (The professor in that video does not herself honestly believe the police were invented to support African slavery in 18th and 19th century America.) Because this utterly ahistorical idea is being promulgated by people who claim to speak from a position of justice, we are forced to assign seriousness to it that it hasn’t earned, seriousness that it could never deserve. Because we live in a world of mutual delusion. Because of kayfabe.

…

And the fact that some will wrinkle their noses about this piece and its arguments, go about their days of progressive performance art, and pretend they don’t believe every word they just read? That’s kayfabe, my friend. That’s kayfabe. And we’re trapped in it, all of us, you and I. You know it’s all bullshit. Will you keep the code anyway? I’m willing to bet that the answer is yes.

#freddie deboer #substack #woko haram

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pinkysfaultorbrainsfault · 4 years

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animaniacs - s1e60: the cranial crusader

sorry this one’s late! i went out tonight. it was nice. uvu

episode summary: after realising that the superhero they apparently live with has just one guy left to take down, the mice don capes and masks in the hope that getting there first will gain them noteriety.

the rundown:

we open on a shot of Mouse Car.

according to the narration it’s an opossum car, actually. never mind! rodents are of course interchangeable. opossum car is owned by the caped opossum, who seems to be doing some cool shit with it.

yeet.

thankfully, despite his track record with dangerous driving, the caped opossum makes it home safely, it seems.

good for him.

“chalk up another caped opossum law enforcement victory, alphonse.” obviously, yes, he’s supposed to be batman, but he’s less batman and more a man who’s been smoking 70 a day for longer than i have been alive.

good thing alphonse doesn’t seem to mind! if we’re going full batman here he probably raised the dude, so i can only assume his chainsmoking habits were encouraged.

“astounding, sir. remote?

“thanks.”

as the caped oppossum trundles off to “see if he’s made the eleven o clock news”-- oh? is that a grumpy boy we see in the background?

oh, that is an extra grumpy boy, today. something about superheroes must piss him off. either that, or AKOM got hold of this one.

brain pauses his seething temporarily to devote his attention to pinky, who is narfing quite happily to himself.

“what spectacular adventure awaits the caped opossum in his next issue?”

“grow up, pinky.”

the boys are fighting ):

brain’s in a bad mood today, apparently. as the two of them bicker over whether the opossum is a “crime fighting genius” (pinky) or “a self obsessed, nocturnal loon with a dreadful fashion sense” (brain) the aforementioned object of their discourse is watching the news.

it’s captivating enough for the mice to stop mid-callout post, anyway. i’m so sorry this is the only frame i could get of pinky. flashdance.

“tonight, the caped opossum’s calling card was found again, making a near perfect record for the masked marsupial.”

“except for!” oh god it’s this horrifying lady again. “arch fiend johnny badnote.”

(me: what would you do if i changed my name to johnny badnote? my boyfriend: scream.)

“that cursed johnny badnote! he’s the only thing standing between me and true superhero fame.”

and then he starts to cry and has to be taken away by alphonse.

to that, brain makes a funny face. i’m not sure why.

“are you pondering what i’m pondering?”

“i think so, brain, but i can’t memorise a whole opera in yiddish.”

okay.

as brain picks the lock on their cage-- actually, as brain does that i need to tell you that for some reason there are horrifying squelching noises at this part. i have no idea why. it’s like there’s a portal in there leading to a pasta bake. be thankful you can’t hear them from here. it’s incredibly visceral.

but anyway, no, as he squishes around in there, he explains to pinky that he shall “become a costumed, crime fighting hero, and thwart johnny badnote, overshadowing the caped opossum.” and then he’ll be so famous he’ll be elected, like, world president or something, immediately.

worked for batman. so anyway they go off and do that i guess.

TAADAAAAAA.

MOUSE IN SHORTS. MOUSE IN SHORTS. pinky actually looks sick as hell. i love it. i’m sure i went to class dressed like this once or twice. what an icon! hell yeah! the pink wonder is ready for action!!!

brain has put an awful lot of effort into padding out his muscles, and none at all into wearing any trousers.

hm.

undeterred by the possibility of Embarrassing Slip, the Cranial Crusader (which is his new name now) (better than the john, i guess) shows off his own calling card, which is basically just art theft.

not particularly original. still, they have shit to do, so they go off and steal mr opossum’s car.

which is a crime in itself, but they’re not going to let that stop them.

somehow, brain magically knows where johnny badnote’s hideout is. how? i can’t say. maybe he left his details at the Secret Club For People Named John B that they both go to.

“too bad we can’t use the power possum’s prehensile tail hook to lower ourselves down.” says pinky, who is in the middle of drawing The Caped Crusader Comic Book.

“why, who says we can’t?”

so they do.

good thing there’s no danger in dangling precariously over the edge of a cliff like that.

ah! wait, no, the train says you can’t. sorry, brain.

oof.

the mice are fine, don’t worry. pinky is immune to damage and brain had an albinistic edition of the yellow pages to break his fall.

look at his FEETS.

but that aside. the mice are undeterred, and pinky suggests they use the “power sniffer” to sniff out johnny badnote’s lair, and pushes a bunch of buttons to make that happen.

“you seem to know much of the crimefighter business, pinky.”

“i learnt everything from comic books.”

et voila! the power sniffer!

seems to be in working order. “egad!” yells pinky, “it must really smell something stinky!” before immediately crashing into the wall.

lol.

conclusion:

so it... doesn’t actually take them that long to identify that they’ve crashed right into johnny badnote’s lair.

regular bard, this dude. brain mentions that “thwarting the arch-twerp johnny badnote should be child’s play,”

before they get squoshed by a piano. hee hee.

“if that’s not a song cue,” says the adult progeny of the snow and heat misers, “my name isn’t johnny badnote!” and his name is johnny badnote, so you can tell it’s-- it’s the-- never mind.

he cradles the mice so gently in his palm, and tells them enthusiatically that he’s going to blow up the world.

OH I’M JOHNNY BADNOTE ARCHFIEND FELON SLIME

THE PUBLIC DIDN’T LIKE MY SONGS AND SO I TURNED TO CRIME

i love this bastard. he ties the mice to this giant egg.

“when my metronome yanks out your firing pin, my music box egg grenade will play lovely music for a few, precious, seconds, before kaboom! it gives me your last downbeat!”

“you call that a diabolical plan?” says brain, who is pictured near the bottom there. he’s the tiny white blob.

“oh, there’s more. when i hear that downbeat, i’ll play my missile launching pipe organ and blow up the wooooorld!”

man, i love this guy! why doesn’t he come back? i want him in every episode of the reboot.

“is that diabolical enough?”

“yes.”

but! as johnny badnote prepares himself to play the Johnny Bad Notes, he, uh.

he forgets they’re mice, and they can just... wriggle out.

with a triumphant “narf”, pinky rescues his beloved comic book,

and manages to yeet the grenade in the process.

oops.

still, never mind. nothing bad could come of that. brain leaves his Art Theft Calling Card.

“pinky, let’s get out of here.”

“hey, what’s keeping that downbeat?”

well, job done, i suppose. satisfied, the mice head back to the... possum cave? i guess?

but oh wait, what’s this?

you have got to be kidding me.

still, the imperceptively convenient inkblots do their job, and the mice get the bad news a little later, from the weird, weird looking woman from earlier.

“in other news tonight, johnny badnote was finally captured by a masterful crime fighter and great hero--”

“the caped oppossum.”

well.

that’s... that, i guess.

brain turns off the tv. his facial features seem to have shrunk in righteous rage.

brain: 3 ½ pinky: 5 ½ outside influence: 7

“minature crimefighters??? i’ve got to get out more.”

#patb #a!#pinky and the brain #animaniacs #for real #johnny badnote is the best oneshot character i've seen on this show so far #hulu: i beseech you to bring him back for the 2020

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