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happilybredbellies · 1 year ago

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Evelyn was sick of and tired living on her family's farm.

Her brothers might be happy to accept their fate as simply the latest generation in a long line of farmers, but she wanted more out of life. Evelyn wanted to travel, to learn, to do anything so long as it didn’t involve sowing seeds and harvesting crops. The easiest way to achieve this would’ve been going to college, but their family didn’t have the money for that kind of thing. A scholarship might’ve been an option, but with the long hours Evelyn worked on the farm there often wasn’t much time left over for studying, and her grades had suffered as a result.

Just as she was beginning to despair that she'd ever escape the fate she’d been born into, her father had come to her with a solution. It was a bit of a shock really. Evelyn’s father had always been a man with traditional views on family and gender roles. She’d expected him to be against his little girl leaving the farm behind for one of those ‘elitist colleges’, yet instead he’d come to her with details about an Animal Husbandry program whose scholarship requirements were so low that even she could get in with little trouble. It wasn’t the program she’d have chosen, but Evelyn hoped she could leverage the skills she’d be learning for something other than farming. It wasn’t like she had any other options, and hell, maybe she could even use it as a step towards a veterinary degree if she worked hard enough!

A few weeks later Evelyn was packing up her things, saying goodbye to her family, and hopping on a bus with a brilliant smile on her face, ready and eager to start her new life. The campus was gorgeous, but when she told the receptionist which program she was in, Evelyn found herself being directed to a large, boxy building about a half hour’s walk from the main grounds. She knew it made sense to keep farm animals away from the regular students and their tidy classrooms, but as she walked into the room where her classmates waited, Evelyn couldn’t help but feel cheated by the blank, sterile walls surrounding them.

The first thing that struck her upon entering was that the room was completely empty except for a few vents and her fellow students, with the second being the realization that it was filled with other women. That was weird. She’d figured this would be a field dominated by men, and yet she couldn’t see a single boy among the sea of girls gathered for orientation.

Evelyn was still mulling this over when she heard a buzzing sound, followed by the airtight door behind her locking with an audible *click*. As if this wasn’t distressing enough, a faint pinkish gas was beginning to seep out from the vents, its sickly sweet scent quickly filling her nostrils and forcing her into a sudden coughing fit. Panic reigned as Evelyn in her fellow classmates beat their tiny fists uselessly against the door, screaming for help until the constant coughing brought them to their knees.

That's when the changes started.

Evelyn’s roomy sweatpants became stretched to the breaking point in a matter of seconds as her slim hips expanded with unnatural speed. Her breasts weren’t so lucky, their mass tearing her crop top apart as her formerly flat chest rapidly swelled into a pair of tits a porn star would be proud of. She wasn’t the only one either. The other women were writhing on the floor all around her, the air filing with the sound of ripping cloth as their new curves burst free of their tight outfits.

This would’ve been bad enough, but then Evelyn noticed a tiny pair of horns poking up from the head of the woman lying next to her. Other changes followed as her horns continued to lengthen, her ears growing a thin layer of fur and taking on a distinctly bovine appearance as a short black-and-white tail sprouted right above her wobbling asscheeks.

Only when Evelyn felt a tail of her own whipping frantically inside her sweatpants did she realize those same changes were happening to her. She pressed her hands to her head, trying to force her burgeoning horns back down into her skull, as that was the key to stopping her unwanted transformation. It did no good, and a minute later the room was filled with the confused groans of nearly two dozen newly-minted hucows.

The vents whirred to life as Evelyn struggled to her feet, clearing the air of the sweet, pink gas. Then the door banged open and a group of young men led by a teacher strode into the room, none of them looking the least bit surprised at the scene unfolding before them.

“Alright boys, listen up,” The teacher called, “As part of your first year in Animal Husbandry, we’ll be assigning you a cow to take care of. The girls here are what we call heifers, which means none of them have borne their first calf yet. They’re also in desperate need of training, so your first task is to pick one, establish your dominance, and get them properly knocked up. Have fun!”

Even through the thick haze that'd begun clouding her mind at the sight of all these strapping young men, Evelyn could tell she was in serious trouble. This school wasn’t for teaching her how to tend animals. Evelyn WAS the animal, and if she didn’t find a way out of here RIGHT NOW she’d likely have some random guy's baby growing in her womb by day’s end!

She stumbled backwards as the men surged forward to grab at the screaming women, but there was nowhere to go. Evelyn tripped, unable to maintain her balance with her thick curves weighing her down, and tumbled to the ground. While trying to get back up, she felt a hand close around the back of her neck, its firm yet gentle grip slowly forcing her down to her knees, and then to all fours.

“Settle down girl,” Evelyn heard the man above her said, “No need to struggle. I’m not here to hurt you, just the opposite in fact. How bout I give you a good milking. I bet that’ll calm you down, wouldn’t it?”

Evelyn was about to tell him exactly where he could shove it, when she felt him reach around and grab hold of her stiff nipples. At his touch the sensitive tips throbbed with a pleasure unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and watched, mouth agape, as twin streams of milk sprayed out from her newly-grown teats to land on the floor. Seeing herself lactating out of the blue should’ve sent her into a panic, but as the man’s hands continued to work Evelyn felt her worries, and her intelligence, beginning to drain away alongside her milk.

Evelyn knew she needed to stop this. He was trying to turn her into braindead cattle for God’s sake, but the pleasure was simply too great. With each tug, each spurt of milk, Evelyn got a bit dumber, and the dumber she got the harder it was to remember why becoming this man's dairy cow was such a bad thing. It was actually starting to sound pretty fucking hot if she was being honest.

“There's a good girl,” he cooed, “See? You’ve got nothing to fear from me. All I want to do is help. Now, how about you raise that lovely rump of yours a bit so I can get to work stuffing your belly full of a big, bovine baby. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Evelyn was vaguely aware of the fact that she was far too young for a baby, that she’d come here looking for an education, not to serve as some brainless pet whose only purpose was pumping out milk and children. It didn’t matter. At that moment Evelyn needed a baby in her womb almost as much as she needed air. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to submit, to fulfill her natural purpose as a female. As she obediently stuck her fat ass into the air and felt her new owner peeling off her sweatpants, Evelyn found herself craving this man's cock.

Her tail twitched impatiently as he grabbed onto her hips and positioned himself at her dripping entrance. Evelyn dimly remembered that she was a virgin, but when he buried his cock to the hilt inside her with one swift stroke, what escaped her mouth wasn’t a cry of pain so much as a moan of unimaginable ecstasy. This was what she’d been born for, she could see that now, and as he picked up his pace and she threw back her head, Evelyn saw that her fellow heifers had all come to similar conclusions.

Her ‘classmates’ were panting like animals in heat as they indulged their own babymaking sessions. Some of them were on their knees like Evelyn, while others either lay on their backs, found themselves pressed up against the wall, or were enthusiastically bouncing up and down atop their caretakers' cocks while mooing at the top of their lungs. It was a beautiful sound, and as Evelyn climaxed around the cock knocking on her womb, she began adding her own moos to the chorus.

By the time she felt the fat cock inside her begin to throb, its potent seed splattering against the walls of her fertile cunt, she no longer looked anything like the bright-eyed young woman who’d walked into this room barely an hour ago. That Evelyn was gone, and the new Evelyn no longer cared about getting an education. She only cared about being the best little dairy cow she could be.

Nine months later…

Hearing her master’s calling for her, Evie heaved herself to her hands and knees and crawled out of his dorm room. Her huge, baby-filled belly swayed ponderously beneath her with each step, as did her swollen udders, which this deep into her pregnancy now leaked constantly, no matter how often and thoroughly her master milked her. Evie didn’t mind though. She loved being heavy with child, loved the feeling of being weighed down by her own fertility as she settled onto her knees at her masters feet.

He was talking to another man about stuff Evie neither understood, nor cared about, and so, having no more order to carry out, she simply opened her mouth and waited, just in case one of them decided to treat her to his delicious cock.

“You’ve really done an amazing job with your heifer,” she heard the other, older, man say from above. “Her milk’s quality is top tier, and she’s better trained than most fully-grown hucows I’ve known. I'm giving you perfect marks all around, well done.“

“Thanks professor,” her master said, his voice brimming with pride, “And seeing as the semester's winding down, I was wondering if you’d let me take this one home with me. I gotta admit, I've grown pretty fond of my sweet little Evie, and my dad's dairy farm could always use another hucow.”

The other man gave a small chuckle, “She's yours if you want her. It’s pretty common for students to grow attached to heifers they raise by hand, and once she's birthed her first calf we’ll just be shipping her off to a state-run farm anyways. We just need to give her the standard injections before she leaves. Then you’re free to load her into the back of your pickup and take her wherever you want.”

“Awesome!” Evie’s master replied, and she saw a broad smile on his face as he squatted down to her level to pat her head. “Hear that Evie? You’re coming back to the farm with me." His hand left her head, travelling down to rest on her belly. "With all the growth hormones and fertility drugs they pump into mature hucows, you’ll probably be the size of a small blimp before too long. But don’t you worry Evie, I’ll make sure to reserve a nice roomy stall for my favorite cow.”

Evie mooed happily, her tail swishing back and forth as she lapped up the attention. Evie couldn’t imagine a better fate than being the official property of such a kind and considerate owner, so she was overjoyed to hear that her master wanted to keep her. What's more, it sounded like she was almost ready to graduate from a heifer to a full-fledged hucow!

Her master had shown her pictures of his farm’s other cows. Each of their massive udders rivaled Evie’s pregnant belly in size, with their own bellies having swollen to gargantuan proportions thanks to their huge litters, which was usually about a dozen calves. These lucky hucows spent their days sitting naked in their pens, too large to fit into even the largest clothes anymore, and often rendered completely immobile by the gallons of milk stored in their tits and the numerous offspring growing in their wombs. Unlike her, their milking sessions lasted for days, if not weeks at a time, and yet in every image the expression on their faces had been one of pure bliss instead of exhaustion.

Evie longed to join them, to lounge around all day with the milking machine attached to her udders keeping her in a state of near-perpetual climax as she pushed out dozens of calves like clockwork. The mere thought of it was enough to make Evie go cross-eyed with pleasure, her tongue lolling out as a strand drool slowly dripped down onto her bare tits.

Life on a farm sounded absolutely incredible, and Evie couldn’t wait to get started.

#pregnant #preggo kink #pregnancy #pregnantbelly #corruption kink #lactating kink #drugs #dumbification #hucow fantasy #hucow transformation

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seungkwanslowqualityenglish · 11 months ago

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Tides of the Soul

✿ Synopsis: All places have their secrets and mythos. Some places the mythos come with a grain of salt, the idea of reality blurring with imagination, sparking the joy within the lives of the residents. But, sometimes those myths are not as imaginary as one would assume, they being the cornerstone of society within your small island home. As you find yourself the owner of the coat of a selkie, thoughts are torn between two extremes of what to do, as you find yourself falling in love with the one who is unwillingly bound to your soul.

✿ Who: Asakura Jo (&Team) x Reader ✿ Word Count: 11,462 ✿ Genre: Fantasy(selkie)/Angst/Fluff/Sad ✿ Warnings: Forced marriage. ✿ Request: No ✿ Enjoy.

At the age of nine your father disappeared into the night. Without a word, he was gone. Living in a small coastal sea town, you had grown used to the amount of people that would go out to sea and never return. The sheer number of young widows turned the town into a hotspot for men wanting to settle down with people that already had an established life. And even more grim, a hotspot for funeral homes, after all the easiest funeral to hold is one where there is not a body for the directors to worry about or get ready. Whole streets consisted of numerous stores dedicated to selling items related to mourning, entire stores full of nothing but sorry for your loss cards, and shop fronts advertising their lines of all black children’s and adult’s clothing.

Children grow up associating every ship sailing as a forever goodbye. Their fathers and brothers going out to sea, and oftentimes never being seen alive again. Returning is rarer than those who get lost at sea. The rarity of returns often lead to large celebrations, ending in the whole town wasted and destroyed, a cost that the town can afford seeing how sparingly the sailors return. Losing a father or brother is something that all children are raised to expect, along with losing a step-father or step-brother, and in some cases multiple step-fathers. The reality of seeing a struggling single mother is more common than seeing a happily married couple, and the rarest of all being a father. The torental sea claims the lives of most that attempt to conquer it, ships and people embracing the waves, just to never be seen again. The waves claimed each ship, like an offering to some sea gods, or sinking each ship like an angered sea god, punishing those who were foolish enough to trek out onto their territory. A way of living associated with death and loss, something that even the youngest of children are accustomed to.

At the age of nine your mother had no attempts to provide you any sort or form of closure regarding your father. A midnight voyage, she called it, claiming he just decided to up and leave, working is better in the dark, she claimed he said. But, she changed the story every time you asked, a fishing trip, a work trip, a midnight voyage, a sailing trip, and running away from their family, being too ashamed to ask for a divorce, and many other stories she would tell. It all made no sense when you were nine, and now as a young adult, it made even less sense. His ship was not outfitted to be a fishing vessel, he would not have been foolish enough to make a voyage without notifying his family of where he was going, and he also was not stupid enough to go on a fishing trip without at least including his friends or his working buddies.

There were many things your father was, sometimes not the best dad, sometimes forgetful of important things and events, and sometimes it felt like he was not completely there, but there was one thing that he was not, and that was stupid. You never believed the claims of a midnight voyage, the late night fishing trip, a late night work trip, and especially never believed your mothers claims that he was cheating and left to be with the other woman. He would not have left you. He never would or could have, if he really did leave for you, you know that he would have had you right alongside. He wouldn’t have left you like your mother claimed, he wasn’t that type of father. He loved you more than he loved his own wife, and he made sure that you knew that small fact.

The town newspaper had become an obituary and in memoriam paper, with the sheer amount of death by sea in the area vastly outnumbering the number of current and positive events happening in the town. As you tossed the paper on the table, all you could think was about how at this point they might as well make it a solely death related paper, after all out of the 30 pages, only 3 were about things that are not death. 27 pages of obituaries and in memoriams, compared to a single page on current events, and then two pages of ads. Looking down at the paper, starting to wonder why your mother had gotten it today, she never bought the paper, saying it was too grim, too dark for her. Reading through the pages with nothing more than a quick glance on each, you finally saw the reason why on one of the backpages. Within the block text was a name that looked familiar, it finally hit you after a few moments, it was your father’s name. It brought back the memories of when you were nine, your mom keeping you home from school to break the news, despite it being almost eleven years ago, the member was fresh in your mind, like it only happened yesterday. The pain you felt as your mother said he was lost at sea flooded your mind, how only the figurehead from the bow of his ship was found, how it washed ashore in the wee hours of daylight, and how it meant more than likely your father was gone now. The anniversary of his death always affected you much worse than your mother, she showed no emotion, but also at this point she not only had your father to mourn, but also two other husbands she had lost to the sea since then, luckily step-dad three had yet to suffer the same fate, but you also knew it was only a matter of time.

It was none other than her voice that knocked you from your reverie, as she called you from elsewhere in your house. Going upstairs, you failed to find her, before you finally realized she was calling you from the rarely used attic, a room you were forbidden from entering as a child, and hadn’t sought entry to even as an adult. Climbing up the rickety old steps, you found yourself face to face with a slew of dusty boxes thrown about, materials collected from your mother’s various marriages, old antiques passed down through the line, and old toys of your own that you could have sworn she said they donated. It did not take long for you to find the reason you came up here, your mother standing on the far edge, surrounded by boxes, elbow deep digging through one.

Without even announcing your entry, she seemed to know that you had entered, starting to talk without even acknowledging your entry with a look. “Do you recall all those old myths and folklore that I taught you as a child?” she started, with an innocent enough question, “I want you to tell me what you remember.’

It was an odd request, the folklore, of course you remember it, well some of it, but not all of it. You can recall the tales of the fairies and the fae, the mermaids and mermen, the sirens and the dwarfs, and many others. “What tale is it you want specifically,” you start to ask your mother, “there are so many, you need to be specific.” The tall tales were something you remember vividly, the glorious image your mother and father had painted in your mind as a young child, something that you failed to forget. Memories of how passionate your father was as he spoke of these creatures, a fresh memory in your mind, it was hard to forget, how he was so descriptive with his words, helping you easily paint a vivid scene, from just the stories.

“Start telling them,” her voice called out from across the attic, “I’ll let you know when you get to the right one.” Of course there was a specific tale she wished for you to tell, but making it hard as she always did, she refused to tell you just which one. It was almost as though she liked playing the guessing game, or maybe she just liked telling you that you were wrong, both were valid answers to the question when your mother was the subject.

With the plethora of tales, you had no idea where you intended to start, maybe the sea tales, or maybe the mountain tales, or the plain tales, or maybe the air tales, or maybe just cycling through them all until she finally says yes. “The fairies lay claim to the wooded forest on the forbidden side of the island,” you started, only to hear her grunt in disapproval. One tale down, but still you had many many many others to go through. “The dwarfs and gnomes are rumored to have lived in the foothills, building homes within the small rocky hills, where no one dares to roam,” once again it was met with disapproval. “The goblins that live on the forest edge, taking a liking to being around the farms, occasionally stealing livestock and being mischievous, but they are also known for helping out those same farmers in their time of need.” Once again, wrong. “The giants, it is said, made homes in the mountains, atop the tallest ones, where the village people knew better than to go.” As your mother started to grunt, you carried on, “the kelpies lived upon the lake side. The fae lay claim to where no fairy would cross.” She continually cut you off, but you continued. “The mermaids swim upon the rivers and the beach’s cove, guardians to those on land, savior of young children that fall into the water, and aiding those lost at sea back.” Finally, your mother made a noise of approval, but still did not confirm it was the right tale, meaning you had reached the right location of the tale, but not the right tale. “Sirens would lay posed against the jagged rocks surrounding the dangerous whirlpools and treacherous rock spines, singing of the sailors most sought after desires, whether it be material items or others, their beautiful singing alluring the sailors to their death.” Seeing your mother shake her head, you were almost at a snapping point, what other tale was there, what could it be your mother wanted to hear, the Loch Ness perhaps, or maybe the tales of the mermen. “What story is it you want then? I’ve gone through everyone that I know, that I can remember at least. Just tell me which tale it was you were looking for, since I have the faintest clue which tale it is that you want.” You finally admit to your mother, somewhat defeated, after all which tale was it she wanted, seeing how all of them failed to satisfy her need for a tale.

A deep groan came from the attic corner, as you maneuvered your way through the stuffy and dusty room over to your mom. “There is one more tale that you forgot, or maybe I never taught it to you. That couldn’t be it, I know I taught you about it, you were just a foolish child who probably forgot it.” She started, being quick to insult you, it was not anything new, anyone that stayed around your mother for a prolonged period of time was bound to realize how narcissistic she was. “Was it not as memorable as the others, what I taught you about it had no tales of death or epic stories building up to an amazing climax. It was just a simple creature that consumed the whole tale, nothing extravagant, and nothing more than that.” She started, for a moment you thought that she just was not going to tell you what it was she wanted, yet at least for once she told you what it was that she wanted. “You recall the tales of the selkie, now don’t look at me like that you child. They were brief tales, as a child there wasn’t much to teach you about the creature.” Pausing, she looked up finally, almost like she was expecting a reply, but you knew better, as she continued. “The selkies are a simple creature, they are seals, but upon shedding their skin turn human. That much I remember telling you, the basics, since as a child you need not know more of the lore than that. But you’re an adult now, and I think it’s time you learn the rest of the tale.” Your mother finished. As she finished, you could say with complete certainty that the woman never told you tales about selkies, but you also knew telling her that would not bode well in your favor. She continued searching before finally finding what it was in the box that she was looking for. Standing up she shows you a worn fur coat, before making her way across the room to where you stood.

“The rest of the tale?” you questioned, your voice trailing off. It was odd, just this whole situation. Being in the attic was odd occurrence number one. Demanding you to recall folklore was odd occurrence number two. Your mother needing to so desperately tell you about the tales of the selkie was odd occurrence number three. Now your mother is fishing out an old fur coat that looked like it hadn’t been worn in years, just to show it to you as she told you tales of the island’s mythology, odd occurrence number four. This was just a bit too much, after all your mother is one of those strong but silent types, you can recall her losing no tears over your father’s fate, nor any of the step-father’s fates that came afterwards. She was one of those ‘I’ll keep my feelings all bottled up in here, and then one day I’ll die types’, this was so unlike her, but it somehow intrigued you. The idea that your mother had some deep dark secret hidden up here in the boxes was interesting, and the idea that your mother seemed to have something major to tell you, led you to sit down next to her. The floor was cold and the room was damp, but the fact that she seemed to clear an area for you to sit, tells you that she had known what she was doing this dark morning.

Wordlessly your mother handed you the jacket, allowing you to see the fine brown fur. It was an aging article, the fur started to fall as it touched your hand, almost like it was disintegrating under your touch. She allowed you to study it, only speaking as she noticed you hold it up, almost as though you were to try it on. She could understand why you would think she wanted you to do that, usually when a family heirloom article of clothing is passed down, that is expected, but not with this jacket, not ever. “No, don’t, my child. You don’t want to try this on.” She reached out, pushing the jacket down, causing it to fall in both your lap and her own. “Now, you recall what I was telling you about, the tales of the selkies, how they shed their pelt and turn human, well it’s a bit more complicated than that. The selkies, their pelt is what lays claim to their soul, a soul that will be bound to whoever places the pelt upon their body. Folktales tell of ladies in the old days, often these would be ladies of the night or unmarried wenches, they would find these fine fur coats upon the ground at the beach, desiring the small bit of luxury that they often would not have been able to afford out of their meager wages, they would put the coat on, even if just to experience their desires of having the money to afford such a luxury. Oftentimes, they however would not place the fur back where it once was, instead their minds luring them to take it, to make it their own, since after all if the owner truly loved the fur, why would they leave it at the beach. Yet, these stories never ended there, instead they would be lured to the sea in the middle of the night, awaiting being the owner of the pelt, male or female awaiting the one they are now bound to. Placing the pelt on your body is like the mark of a soulmate, however there is often no love actually involved, often only desires to return to the sea and loveless marriages.” She said, pausing, like she was wondering how to finish the tale.

Looking at your mother’s face, you realize she is far from done, “From the look on your face, I assume there is more?” You ask, only to sigh as she nods.

Continuing her stories, she softly takes the fur from your hands, at that point it was completely in her lap, as she clinched it between both hands. “While tales tell of women happening upon these pelts by accident, there are also tales of how men happen upon these pelts. Sailors would wait upon the decks, watching the water, looking for things in specific, young women, especially attractive young women, then they would search for furs. To many of these men, pelts were a way to basically get a servant, a woman who would wait on your every beck and call, someone to manipulate that wouldn’t fight back, someone that they knew the law wouldn’t side with. These selkies would become their wives, but wives is a word that is too generous, oftentimes they were nothing more than servants, they would appease their husbands each and every whim, meals, housework, cleaning, and whatever they may want in the bedroom. Some of these men would even have multiple selkie wives, stealing each and every pelt they came upon. As the selkies aged, they would often be replaced by younger ones, over and over again until the sailors felt the need to get rid of them. Stories tell of men that had whole basements constructed for the housing of their unwanted wives, leaving the aged selkies to rot, refusing to let go of them, but also refusing to let them leave, a truly greedy thing some of these men would do. However, some were much more lucky, gaining their freedom, they were able to escape, however unable to return to the sea without their pelt. Some selkies were able to gain access to their pelts, finding them in hidden places and old boxes, returning to the sea before their husband had even realized they found it. But for many, the fate was much more grim, selkies rotting away in houses, longing to escape servitude, escape their loveless marriages, and dreaming to escape to the sea they so longed for. For a selkie, both male and female, once bonded, there is only one way to break the bond and allow them to return to the sea, and that is with their pelt. From the moment another puts it on, they are bonded to them until they get it back, once it returns to them, and they are able to wear it once more, they can return to the sea, back to their original form, and the partner they were once bonded with, the bond is broken, only able to be repaired if they once again gain access to the pelt and put it on, something that usually would never happen, they gained their freedom and wouldn’t return, instead warning the other selkies to stay away, in hopes of the same thing won’t be happening to them.” She finished, finally making eye contact with you, waiting to see your reaction as she slowly ran her hands over the slowly decaying fur.

Nodding your head, you wracked your brain, trying to think of when she had told you about this. But you can up with a blank, she had not ever mentioned selkies, nor did your father. Until today they were a creature you had yet to hear of, which was odd, especially seeing how your mother claims they related so deeply with the island’s culture and all. “That’s a bit grim,” you finally started, “they would take random furs in the hopes it was a selkie’s fur?” Looking up, you saw your mother nod her head. It was just a strange thing to say, they would steal and wear fur, in hopes they would get a husband or wife, an odd lore it was, possibly the oddest that you had learned regarding the island. “You said they aren’t bonded until they wear the fur, so does that mean that they are just like selkies out there without any fur, just like swimming around like mermaids or something?” You question, seeing how if your mother wanted to take the tale this far, you would just encourage her some more.

A short laugh came from your mother’s mouth. “Of course you would think of a question that isn’t covered in the story,” she started, “yet, I would assume that they do. If they lived on land, I’m sure we would realize this person with no family, home, or anything on land. Selkies are seals that can turn humans, so one would assume that they do, since seals like, have tails right?” she asked, before carrying on, taking it upon herself to preemptively answer any other questions you might have. “You might also wonder about destroying their fur, after all that was a question I had when your grandmother told me about this, but the many tales say different things. Some claim it destroys the bond, leaving the selkie feeling as though they will die if they don’t reach water within the hour, many dying from not making it. While others say it retains the bonds, but leaves the selkie unable to ever leave, they will stay bonded to that person forevermore. Yet, some tales say destroying the fur is equivalent to destroying the person, they will cease to exist, some say their memories are erased from your mind, while others claim memories of them remain but they just disappear.” she said, looking up once more. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but you know that I wouldn’t be telling you this if it wasn’t important. If it wasn’t something you need to know, especially before mother gets here.”

This was when confusion started to set in, something you needed to know before grandma got here. Why was she coming over today, why did you need to know another one of the island's tall tales before her visit, what was even going on. “Why, how is this important, is grandma gonna test me on my knowledge of our folklore or something?” you started to question, “Is she gonna ask me the selkies lore and then if I mess up be like, well you are out of my will now, or something?” it was confusing, why was it so important. These were just stories you were told as a kid, they held no importance in the adult world, except for things to tell your future children if you had any.

“It is a bit confusing my dear, but you just need to trust me, it will all make sense before long.” Was all your mother said, before she stood picking up the fur and folding it once more, well folding what was left of it. She placed it back into the dusty decaying box, closing it with a look as though that will be the last time it sees daylight. Looking over to her child, she gestures to the door. “Let’s go back downstairs, we can make some tea and snacks and wait for mother to arrive, before we continue this.”

You followed almost on autopilot, the only thing you felt at the moment was confusion, why was it so important for you to know all of this, what did grandma have to do with this, and why was all that junk shoved into the attic. These were all thoughts that ran through your mind as you went downstairs, starting to help your mother prepare for grandma’s visit. Tea in the kettle, some sandwiches and cookies placed on the platter, next to a platter of fruits and vegetables you knew would remain untouched, since your grandmother was not the time to indulge in fruits or vegetables, she would rather eat things she likes. There was one thing she always said ‘I won’t waste my caloric intake on foods I don’t like’, for being almost eighty she sure was a rowdy and rough one, bold enough to never back down from a fight, and a mouth that would make even a seasoned sailor blush.

It wasn’t long before you heard the door open, followed by a loud yell, “NOW WHERE ARE MY SWEETIES,” she yelled out. It was not something that phased you, she had a habit of calling everyone sweetie, it was often in a sweet way, but it always made you laugh when she would use it condescendingly, making people think she was some innocent little old lady, when those who knew her, know she is anything but. It wasn’t long before the kitchen door flew open, in walked a kaleidoscope of colors, she might be known for her boldness, and that even bled into her fashion taste, nothing matched, but she’d be damned if you could not recognize her from miles away. “Oh, you made some tea, did you make it how I like?” she questioned, seeing your mother nod, she accepted the answer, turning her attention to you. “Oh, look at you dearie, what are you now, thirty or so,” she started, acting like she couldn’t remember your age for a moment there, but you knew how smart she was, she wasn’t the type to forget birthdays or ages. “My, you’ve shot up like a beanstalk, well at least compared to me. My my my, my dearie, you’re all grown up now, twenty, it only seems like yesterday that you were a sweet babe crying in my arms. You were just a wee little one, now you’ve gone and all grown up on me, but you’re still my sweet little babe, no matter how old you get.” She said, taking your hand, leading you over to the table, wanting you to sit next to her. Leading you to a seat, she took her own, simply stirring her tea as your mother brought it over.

You were at a loss of words, it was not like your grandmother to get overly affectionate, she was not the doting grandmother many others had. Your earliest memory of her, was being three and she teaching you the f-word, you will never forget how red your mother became when you told her the word granny taught you, she always said if you were to inherit anything of hers, it should be her ability to make even the toughest of sailors blush within a few moments, but your mother nipped that in the bud rather quickly. As you looked over at your grandmother from your seat, you stirred your tea, unable to think of how to address this. The odd stories, the whole it’s important thing, it was just not making any sense to you. Luckily, it seemed as though your mother started to realize you were not going to say anything, so she piped up first.

“Now mother, we all know you love us, but would you maybe want to get along with it.” She said, taking a sip of her tea, “I know how much you like to spin your tales, a simple story turns into an hour long tangent, but I think the child here might be a bit too nervous for you to drag them along much longer.” Your mother said, placing a cube of sugar delicately into the tea cup, before stirring it, leaving it up for your grandmother to tell what was so important.

Grandmother was not used to taking orders, especially orders from one of her own offspring, but finally upon seeing the shade of white washing down your face, as you seemingly got cold chills, she decided to get straight to the point. “Now dearie, as you know all families have secrets, some are innocent while some are not so innocent. I mean, Mrs. Shepard down the street, her family to this day makes and sells backwoods moonshine, not that you heard it from me but it’s not strong enough. Then you remember your old school teacher, Mr. Barnes, his great grandfather was accused of kidnapping and murdering dozens of young women, he never got tried or caught, but most of us know it was true, after all he was the police chief and it was odd that each officer that accused him would end up dead by day's end. But besides that, some families have tales of murder and betrayals, while some have tales of bootleg liquor and drunks. Yet, there is another subsection of this, those who have something a bit more magical and mythical in their bloodline.” She started, drinking a bit of her tea before continuing. “You know, the imagination is a wondrous thing, it can help you create crazy stories and extravagant myths, but not every tale is as imaginary as you may think. Some things are just a bit too wild, a bit too crazy, a bit too detailed, a bit too described for them to be fake, for them to just be something created in someone’s head. They often call them myths, tales passed down from generation to generation, yet only those which are short and memorable really ever survive without being written down. Tales of giants that live in the mountains, are not true in the slightest. Tales of fae that trap humans down in the forest, not true as well. Stories of gnomes in the valley, once more, nothing more than a myth. But some tales are true, yet many may not know it.” She said, stopping once more, starting to drink her tea and eat some snacks. With the amount of talking she was going to have to do, explaining everything, she started to drink and eat, making sure to keep her energy up.

Looking at your grandmother, you had no idea how to process what you had just been told. Myths, real, unlikely. There were just so many things that don’t make sense, how would this not have been such a big thing, media coverage from all over the world now, if it was true at least. “But, what do you mean, there isn’t any way any of it can be true. I mean if it was why wouldn’t everyone know about it, someone would leak it, or tell the press. The worldwide media would be all over it, if it was true.”

Grandmother instead ignored your questions, carrying on as though you had said nothing. “To cut the bullshit short, there are two main myths that most don’t realize are real on our little island. The tales of the sirens and selkies, I know, how cute, water creatures for our little water surrounded home, but have you ever wondered how some show up with spouses that just manage to appear out of thin air, or how there are still some parts of the sea we have yet to map. How so many sailors disappear out at sea, but their spouses soon rebound with another like nothing ever happened. Oftentimes those sirens sink our ships, killing our men with their songs about their greatest desires, whether that be other women or something as stupid as a chocolate chip cookie. Selkies however are a bit more interesting, people find their furs, keeping them for when husband one or two or three or however many disappear at sea, then they have a quick and easy way to rebound, of course for the sake of the children.” she said, saying it like it was nothing, like she was not just dropping a ton of family lore information on you all at once. “Yet, dearie, our family is a bit different. We don’t use those furs as rebounds or even sometimes purposely send our husbands out on ships we know are going into the siren infested areas, yet we are involved in these myths in a secret way. I can’t tell you how far it goes back, but I remember stories from my mother about how her grandmother did this for her, how her grandmother did it for her, and how her grandmother did it for her, and here I am doing it for you.” She said, leaving off on another cliffhanger as she started to shovel food in her mouth once more.

“You probably haven’t noticed, but few in our family still remain married to their first spouse, and there is a reason for that. For as far back as I can remember, and as far back as our family has been told, our children’s first spouse is always one of mythical origins, that’s why oftentimes our families are small, it gives those my age a bit less work to do. Your father was one, your mother’s father was one, my own mother was one, and so forth. Each of us have more in common than just being related, all of us are related to selkies in some way. I know, it’s a lot to take in, but I’d rather give it to you in one big dose than in many smaller doses..” Grandma says, stopping for a second as she sees the confused look in your eyes, taking your hand, she runs her calloused thumb against the back of your hand, trying to calm you a bit before continuing. “Every time a child turns the age of twenty, their grandmother or grandfather will present them a fur that they’ve saved for them, the fur is of a selkie, the selkie which will be your first spouse. It’s a family tradition of sorts, it first started back when few lived on the islands, a way to escape the idea of marrying into your own blood, but before long it became the standard for our family, and will be the standard for you my child.”

As grandmother stopped, you looked between your mother and her horrified. “So let me get this straight, you just like steal some poor selkie’s fur and give it to your child, and we just like to get stuck with them, no way out, no exit, I just have to pass go and collect 200, I don’t get a choice in this.” You said, pulling your hand from your grandmother’s grasp, as they both nodded. “No. No, this is complete bullshit, I’m not just gonna marry someone I’ve never met, someone that I don’t love, just for some stupid tradition. Do I not matter? Do my feelings not matter? Does finding someone I actually love and care for do not matter to you?” You yelled, standing up, anger and disgust starting to build from what you had just heard. “Do I not matter? Did you only have a child to carry on this stupid archaic tradition, this barbaric thing? Did you ever think maybe they don’t want this either, you are stealing them from their life for something they didn’t want. Maybe they don’t want it either, and neither do I.” You yelled, finally having enough you ran out of the house, leaving your grandmother and mother yelling after you.

Leaving, you knew it was the better option than blowing up even worse. It was hard to think about, they planned on marrying you off to whoever’s pelt your grandmother had stolen. They planned on stealing them away from the life they lead, from the life they held, just to throw them in yours. You just found yourself running out of the house, running along the seaside until you found a small cliff on the beach, taking refuge in the rocks under the overhang. Finally you could start to try to make sense of everything they were telling you, but no matter how much you thought of it, none of it made sense. Selkies and sirens being real, what is next mermaids and the loch ness monster being real, maybe they’ll just tell you all those little myths you heard as a kid were real, since why the hell not, if a few are, all must be.

Part of your brain was hoping this was all just some elaborate prank, some idea your grandmother and mother came up with to prank you before your birthday celebration or something. But, deep down you knew it was anything but, neither of them were the pranking type, and neither would put this much effort into some old prank. They were both too serious for anything like that, and honestly even in the deepest pits of your soul, you knew they would not drop this. The small cliff was your refuge for who knows how many hours, you sat there while the sun was high in the sky, it was lower on the horizon when you finally made your way home. Rather than possibly chance talking to your mother and grandmother, you decided to run into the house and right up to your bedroom, avoiding them both for the best. However, as you made your run, you were too slow, they already knew you were there.

“Oh, so you finally came to your senses,” grandmother said snarkily as she watched you try to run in the house. Both her and mother knew you would make a break for it if you could, so they knew it would be best to intercept you before you finally could make it to the bedroom. A room where you probably would not come out of, they both knew how easily you would lock yourself up until this blew over. But sadly, this was not going to blow over, there was no punchline to this horrible joke, and they were not going to drop this topic.

Seeing your mother blocking the staircase as you heard a lock click, a sound that seemed to be coming from the front door. You could hear your mother’s sigh, it seemed as though she had taken over the whole discussion from your grandmother. “Dear, I know you don’t like this, but you have no decision on the topic. The only choice you get to make is are you going to do it willingly, or will we have to force it upon you while you are sleeping,” she said, “and don’t think we are joking, you won’t be the first person to have the fur shoved upon them while they slumber.”

A short laugh left your lips, looking between your mother and grandmother, thinking they can not be serious. But, they did not laugh, they just glowered at you, making it finally hit you, this is not a joke, they are not joking, and they are being completely serious. “Well then, I guess you’ll have to find a way to make me do it, since I can not and will not willingly put it on, no matter what you say and what you do,” you said, quickly pushing past your mother, starting upstairs.

Your mother attempted to stop you, gripping your wrist, but let it drop as you started to tug your arm. “That didn’t go how I wanted it to,” she muttered to your grandmother, “I guess we’ll have to plan something,” your mother started to say, her voice trailing off as you made it to your bedroom door.

As you enter your room, locking the door, you could not help but think of what they had said, do it or we will make you. The words resounded in your head, you really had no choice, it was take a spouse or we will force you to take a spouse. Checking the door one last time, fatigue finally hit you, and you wanted to make sure that neither woman would be coming into your room to force a coat you do not desire upon you. Satisfied that the door is locked, you fell asleep, unbeknownst to you, that they were planning something downstairs.

The planning of your mother and grandmother was quick, wait until you sleep, unlock your door, since they knew it would be locked, and force the coat on you. The plan was easier said than done, but honestly they both expected some resistance from you, you were never the ideal child, always wanting to go your own way, blaze your own path, they hated it. Why would you not just follow along like a good child and do as they told you to, it would make both your life and their lives easier, but you were too headstrong for your own good.

It was nearing midnight when they put their plan into action. You were out, and they were fast. The jacket had been forced onto your body and removed so quickly, you would have had no idea it happened had it not been for you waking to your bedroom light on and door open. It broke your heart to see that your mother and grandmother had done this, unable to accept your desires to be freed from the stupid and archaic family tradition they hold so dear. As morning came, you slipped out of the house without a word to either of them, wanting to just run as far as you could.

Coming upon the cliff that overlooks the ocean by your house, you just sat, watching the waves as they rolled, the seagulls flying about, and the boats going over the horizon, to probably never return home again. Had you been staring downwards, you would have seen him exiting the water. The distance between him and the owner of his coat had been too far for him to leave the water to find them, however as you sat on the cliff, the distance was closer, allowing him to sense your nearness. The male exited the water, pulling on a discarded shirt and pair of shorts that some man had left laying on the rock faces to dry. He then started the trek towards where his soul told him that yours sat, venturing up the rocks and the grassy cliff. For it being his first time officially on the island, he was mostly just confused, he had never gone this far from the beach. He should have honestly never left the water, but curiosity got the best of him, and that’s how your grandmother was able to steal his coat with such ease.

His footsteps were what you heard first, they let you know someone was nearing you, and you knew it had to be whoever the poor soul that was bound to you was. Standing, you took his figure in first, he was tall and honestly quite handsome in the face. If you had met in other circumstances, you would have probably attempted to make a move, but given the circumstances you were under, that idea quickly left your mind.

Looking him in the eye, you felt confused, angered, and just lost. You did not plan on putting on his fur, you did not plan on ever having to see a fur again, you just did not want this one bit. But, of course your grandmother was not joking as she wrestled the fur onto your body as you were half asleep, she especially was not joking after your initial refusal, no one ever said no, and she was not going to let you start. This was not what you wanted, and you knew this was not what he wanted, being bound to some complete stranger for the rest of his life. Part of you just wanted to return the fur, but you had no idea where they had hidden it, your mother probably knew you would just give it back if they left it with you, you can not exactly blame them for thinking ahead well enough to know what you would do. Yet, here you stood now, no fur in hand, just him standing across from you, while you rack your brain of what to do.

First they throw this whole selkie thing on you, then they throw out that your father was a selkie, then they add a little spice and say you have to marry a selkie as well. Generation after generation, your family married selkies, it was a family tradition at this point, but some traditions are meant to be broken, and this is one you wish was. Your family had expected you to accept it without any second thoughts, to just fall in love with this selkie man or woman and get married and have children and just the whole nine yards like they did. You wanted to be the last subjected to this bizarre tradition, but part of you at the same time, did not want it to end. That forbidden part of you had started to feel for him, feelings that you swore you would never feel, feelings that you swore to yourself would never happen. You could not fall for him, you would not fall for him, and you will not under any circumstance love him.

While you were having your moral dilemma, Jo was mostly confused, he had not been in this human world long enough to adjust to anything. He mostly knew of tales from the others, and stories for those few that returned. He did not completely understand why you seemed to hold such a disdain for him, why you did not seem to like him so much. He had not done anything for you to hate him so much, and if he had, he did not know what it could have been.

The start of the relationship was rocky, as any relationship with someone you just met and was told is your spouse would be. Weeks were spent under the watchful eye of your mother and grandmother, the two of them wanting to make sure you could be trusted before giving you any semblance of freedom. Being monitored day in and day out was something you hated, and while you knew little about the man you were spending that time with, you felt he probably hated it as well. Once you had gained their trust, after the first month, your grandmother gifted you her oceanside cottage, claiming it was the perfect place for a young couple to grow closer, but you knew their real motives, the perfect place for a young couple to start a family. That was all they really wanted, another child or two of you could continue this tradition.

Living with Jo was awkward at first, he was unsure how to act around humans, and how to live as one. Meanwhile you were trying to keep assure him you did not want this either, but you always felt like those words meant nothing to him. The way he’s glance at you was almost like he was thinking otherwise, but you ignored it, marking it off as he just not knowing how to show his true feelings around a human.

Throughout time, the two of you grew closer, and Jo became comfortable with the idea of living with you forever. On weekend mornings you would teach Jo how to make various breakfast foods and how to use the appliances around the house, introducing him to a variety of foods he had never seen, pancakes, waffles, and all other sorts of things. Weekday nights, the two of you would make dinner tonight, Jo usually trying the best he can to help. From cooking to cleaning, you had to show him everything, which was expected, it was not like he exactly cleans the kitchen in the sea.

The days passed and the two of you started to feel closer than just two people living together. Moments became more domestic, Jo replicating what he had seen couples do on the television shows and movies you would have him watch with you. He would wrap his arms around your waist as you cooked dinner, chin resting on your shoulder. If anyone was gazing in through the open curtains they would have assumed the two of you were a cute loving couple, and honestly, part of your heart was wishing you were as well. Throughout the days, you started to fall, he was kind with you, gentle with his motions, and it was everything you wanted, but not with him, not like this. The thoughts of finding someone you would love with your whole heart who would love you back was something you always fantasized about as a child, as most people would. The idea of true love being the desire of many, but you did not desire to feel these feelings with someone that you knew would never love you. As long as you were the soul he was bound to, he would never love you, you knew he would only see you as the owner of his coat, and that if given the chance he would have taken it without a second thought and escaped back into the sea. But, as you started to fall, you only wished there was a way to stop, since by the time your heart hit the floor it would be too late.

Time passed, the two of you becoming even more domestic, the ideal of a perfect couple still in the honeymoon phase. But, with each movement and motion, your heart fluttered, the butterflies in your stomach would erupt, letting you know that when you finally allowed him to be free as he should be, it would hurt you more than you would want to admit.

Mornings were spent cuddled up in bed, his arm holding you to his chest, the position felt so familiar, so comfortable. His presence brought you comfort, but that might have just been because of the whole bound souls thing, so ignoring those feelings were what you did most of the time. Midday would be spent enjoying lunch on the beach with him. The two of you would prepare lunch, then enjoy a picnic on the beachside, unless it was raining. His hand fit into yours just like a puzzle piece finding its match, the way he could easily envelope both of your hands within a single one of his made your heart skip a beat each time, as he would easily wrap his fingers around your own, your heart would skip a beat. Evenings were spent laying in his arms, back resting against his chest as his arms pulled you closer, with his chin resting on your shoulder. The feeling of being in his arms was euphoric, the feeling was one that one would assume to only feel while in the grasp of their one true love, but you knew better than to become accustomed to the joy you felt within his grasp.

Watching movies until late at night became a normal routine for the two of you. Jo would lay with you in his arms, the television playing some random movie that would captivate his attention, until either the two of you would fall asleep or you would. When you would fall asleep, usually you would wake up in your bed, Jo having carried you there, knowing it is a more comfortable place to sleep. Other times the two of you would awake on the couch in the morning, complaining about back pain and saying you need to make it to the bed next time, knowing you would just repeat the same actions all over again. Tonight the movie on the television was a generic romance movie, the couple falling in love, facing trials and tribulations, before finally kissing and living happily ever after.

Watching the movie, it was nothing that left a mark on your mind, the stereotypical romance movie being something you have seen many times before, however for Jo, each movie was like a new look into how humans lived, how they acted, how they loved. Watching as the two main characters laid arm in arm, reminded him of the two of you, how you sat against his chest in that moment. Their actions were things he often replicated, hugging you, cuddling you, resting his chin against your shoulder, holding your hands, and so forth. As the two main characters kissed, the thought came to his mind, maybe you would like that.

When his coat was first stolen, he heard stories from the other selkies that he would be miserable, that he would be bound to someone that probably just wanted a servant. He had feared that, the stories from the others being all he had known about humans. The tales of them stealing coats, binding you to them, before turning them into nothing more than unpaid help, unable to leave, unable to have what they want, just stuck doing whatever their owner wants them to for eternity, until they either find their coat and escape or die.

But, Jo was shocked when he saw the person his heart was bound to, expecting an aging person, he was surprised to find that they were his own age. He was shocked even more when he found out they did not want this either, the story you told him about how your mother and grandmother forced his coat onto you in your sleep. Throughout the time with you, he started to feel these odd feelings, feelings like he did not want to leave you, like he enjoyed being here, enjoyed being with you. Replicating what he saw on television, what the couples would do, it all felt so natural to him. The feeling of you in his arms was a wonderful thing, something he did not think he should enjoy, but he oddly did. As the movie you were watching caught his attention, he found himself wondering once more, as he replicated all these things he viewed on television with you, he had never done that. Watching the two main characters kiss, he gazed down at your face, as your head rested on his shoulder. He started to wonder if he should do it, before finally deciding to just do it, assuming you would like it, seeing how you seemed to react positively to all the other actions he has done after seeing the loving couples on television do them.

Reaching down, you felt a soft grasp on your chin, his hand easily tilting your head up to face his own. His lips first met your forehead, a gentle kiss on your forehead, it was comforting. The motion filled your stomach with butterflies, as you could feel yourself falling more and more into his embrace, falling deeper and deeper in love with the man who you knew could never love you back. His lips did not stop there, the next time you felt them on your skin was as his lips brushed against your own. Despite the rational part of your brain telling you to not react, you found your lips moving against his.

It was an odd feeling as his lips touched yours for the first time, you did not plan on forcing him to stay with you longer than necessary, yet here you were kissing him. Despite how Jo was making you feel, you just had to push that thought to the back of your mind. He was not doing this out of love, how could he love you, you were just some random person that put on his fur. He was just bonded to you, doing this out of some deep seeded need to satisfy who he was bonded to, it was nothing more than that, and would never be. Or, at least that is what you told yourself, just before you pushed yourself away from him, leaving him alone in the living room, before sulking up to your own room, to think about what you were going to do some more.

Despite how he made you feel, you pushed all those feelings aside, he did not deserve to have to live his life out here where he did not belong just because someone decided to steal him away from where he once belonged. It took months, the two of you acting like a sweet domestic couple. Cuddling throughout your time together, sharing kisses at random points throughout the day. To any onlooker, they would think you were a sweet little couple, but instead you knew this was all just to gain the trust of your mother and grandmother, gain access to his coat, and allow him to return to the sea where he belongs. But his arms start to feel like they belong around your waist, like his lips are made to be pressed against your own.

You can not say that it was an easy decision, it was not something you just decided overnight, or even over a few hours. It has been a good month or longer of you weighing the pros and cons. Pro, you felt like he really did love you, con, he might have only ‘loved’ you since you were the owner of his fur. Pro, he was nice and you loved being around him, con, he might have only been nice to you since he knew you had what was keeping him from returning to the sea. Pro, you genuinely enjoyed being around him, con, he was probably only doing what he had to do to trick you into giving his fur back. Pro, you were in love with him, con, you were in love with him.

Maybe you were too selfless for your own good, maybe you should have been selfish for once, maybe you should have taken what you wanted, rather than letting it go. You however, could not find yourself doing that, he did not belong to you, he belonged to the sea, and that is where he should be, and where he will be returning. The night before, you found yourself in his arms, it was a thing you had fought so hard against, showing him any love or any emotion. But, you found yourself feeling safe, feeling at home, as his large frame enveloped yours as you lay on the sofa in your living room with him. His lips met yours for seemingly the last time, you actually allowed yourself to get lost in the kiss, before you know it you have turned around, your arms wrapping around his neck, while his hands were against your back, pulling you closer to him. Despite your mind telling you to stop, you did not, you knew that it would make what you would be doing in the morning hurt even more, yet you could not stop. His lips slotted against yours with such perfection, like the two of you were soulmates, meant to be together. But, as badly as you wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms for the rest of your life, you knew he should not be here.

Against all your efforts, you had fallen for him, but you knew he did not belong here, he did not belong to you. It was not long before your lips finally separated from his, resting your head against his chest, he ran his hand over your back, the two of you were serene, it was peaceful in these moments. Part of you wanted this to last longer, to enjoy moments like this forever, but your mind was made up, and you were not going to change it. Before long, he was asleep, it was then you decided to get what you would need the next morning. Untwining yourself from his arms, you made your way upstairs, to the attic. You had finally gained your mother’s trust just a few weeks ago, her and your grandmother were proud of your progress, and she thought you had just accepted your fate.

The box had not been up there long enough for any dust to settle on it, compared to the rest of the items in the attic. Despite it having been up here for a month, you had not even seen the fur, seeing how your mother and grandmother forced it on you while you were asleep, you never saw it even then. As you started to pull it from the box, you noticed it was not hidden, it was not placed in secret, nor was it hidden in some back corner. Jo could have easily found it had he wanted to, that made you think that maybe he did not want to leave, maybe he wanted to stay with you, be with you, be yours. But, no, he would have taken it and ran had he found it, your mind started making up reasons for you to follow through with your plan. Pulling it from the box, you found yourself running your fingers over it, the silky shiny black fur soft to the touch. Holding it close to your chest, you realized it smelled just like him, which should not be surprising, but you still were. The fur felt like home to you, like it was supposed to be yours, like he was supposed to be with you. The thoughts and feelings of love started to fill your mind, ideas of how maybe you two were meant to be, but you killed these thoughts just as they started to fill your mind. Letting your hands drop it back into the box, you looked down at the fur, picking up the box, deciding that this was it, tomorrow you would give it back, and you would allow him to go and be free. You made your way back downstairs, placing the box under the stairs by the table, you made your way back to him. Sitting down by him, you immediately found yourself in his arms once more, as he wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you, you found yourself falling asleep.

It was not long before you awoke to a light shining in through a window, straight into your eyes. Starting to awake, you realized you were not where you fell asleep last night, seeing your bedroom rather than your living room. Jo must have woken up in the night, and carried you up to bed. Realizing this, you immediately sat up with a jerk, he had to have seen the box, he probably took the fur and ran while you slept. Despite giving it back to him being your plan, part of you hurt from the idea that he took it without even a goodbye. Those thoughts all died down, as you felt two hands grab you by your waist, before they wrapped around your stomach, pulling you back down. He had not left in the dark of the night, and he did not seem to want you to leave in the light of the day, as he held you close, going back to sleep once you were against him again.

You let him have a moment, before you sat up, turning to shake his shoulder. “Wake up,” you said, deciding to get this over with now, rather than later. Knowing yourself you would probably manage to talk yourself out of your current plan if you waited any longer. Untangling yourself from his arms, you pulled on a jacket, not even bothering to get dressed this early in the morning. “Wake up,” you said again, shaking him once more, attempting to jostle him from his slumber. “I have a surprise for you,” you added, finally getting him to wake up, sitting up, he started to wake, following you.

Starting downstairs, you could hear him talking, probably asking you something but you were so far away, you heard nothing but incoherent noises. Picking up the box, you started to walk out the door, over to the water, as Jo followed you, confused. You could once again hear him talking, but you could not make out anything he said, or maybe you just did not want to hear it, maybe you were just ignoring what he said, so he could not stop you, so he could not change your plan. Finally stopping next to the water, you turned to him, waiting for him to be closer to you before you spoke. Part of you knew you would break if you had to repeat it, you would fail and forget your plan, settling for the safety and feeling of home you found within his arms, rather than letting him return to the water. “I have something for you,” you told him, opening the box and pulling the fur out.

Confusion was on Jo’s face, this was not part of what the other selkies had told him. They claimed once taken, they would more than likely never get it back, they would have to steal it back, but here they were, just giving him his back. “What,” he started to ask, before being cut off as it was shoved into his arms. Huffing he took the item, looking into your eyes, he started to question it, “Are you sure?” The confusion evident in his voice, this wasn’t part of what he had been prepared for, part of what all the elders had told him, what he had learned about when he started to come to the land.

Nodding your head, “Just take it,” you said, forcefully shoving the fur into his chest, giving him little time to react other than to just take it. “It’s yours,” you started, your voice starting to crack, as the weight of what you were doing finally hit you, “You don’t belong here, you belong out there, and I’ll be damned if I’m the old holding you back from where you are supposed to be.” You found yourself holding back tears, you did not want to see him go, but you could not stop him, “I love you, but you’re not mine to choose to keep,” you whispered, hoping he didn’t hear you. Whether or not he heard, you did not know, as you soon felt a hand under your chin, raising your face to reach his. You found his lips against yours, returning the kiss you started to regret everything you were doing, but you knew it was right, at least that’s what you told yourself. Pulling yourself away from him, “Just go,” slipped from your lips before the more sensible part of your mind could take over. He seemed unwilling, almost like he did not want to leave, “Just go,” you repeated, as you saw the hesitation in his eyes. You both stood there for a few minutes, whispers telling him to just go fell from your lips every now and then, it was not long before he finally got the hint, and into the water he went. Fur on, he turned back into his original form, a selkie. It was only then you let the tears from your eyes fall, hoping he couldn’t see them, but unknown to you, he saw them all, the tears, the sobs that came after, but the ocean called to him as it was his home. But, within his heart, you were also his home. The weeks, he had fallen just as you had, learning that not all stories the elders tell about the humans are true.

Part of your heart aches as you watch him swim away. You start to wish you had kept the fur, you had kept him with you, you had retained the bond. Against your wishes and desires, you had started to fall for him, butterflies in your belly, blush upon your cheeks, and a blurry mind whenever you thought of him. But, as they say, if you love something you need to let it go. You could already hear your mother’s words in your head when you got back, idiot, stupid, and do not know how to appreciate what they have. In this moment, you were all the above, but most of all you were missing Jo. Which as they say, if it was meant to be, he would return to you one day, and until that one day, you would wait for him. No matter how long it took, even if he never found his way back to you again, you would never love another, and your heart would always ache for him, the one you believe is genuinely your one true love.

#&team jo #jo asakura #asakura jo #andteam jo #&team asakura jo #andteam asakura jo #andteam scenarios #andteam fanfic #kpop #andteam fluff #andteam angst #&team scenarios #&team fanfic #&team fluff #&team angst #&team au #andteam au

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lonely-soul-02 · 1 year ago

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What is your true opinion on Sara, her personality, and her reason for divorcing Noel?

Good question, thanks for asking!

I’ve had a number of anons recently asking about Sara, whether I think she’s good or bad, her relationship with Noel, was she controlling, and variations of. It’s more time efficient to do a one off ‘this is my giant take on Sara’.

Short answer: I'm sure Sara is a complex person, like we all are. She'll have good and bad points, just like Noel and Liam. I don't think her situation with Noel was as simple as a lot of fans make out.

LONG READ

It’s difficult for me to form any (sensible) concrete opinion about Sara’s personality and relationship with Noel when we know so little about her, and what we do know is negatively one-sided and mostly social media presented. There are no independent or truly reliable sources like what we have for Liam and Noel.

Let’s put it this way, if all you knew of Liam were his rage tweets, his homophobic, transphobic and ableist tweets, his Wiki personal history which consists of cheating on his wives, fathering four different children to four different mothers, possibly assaulting his current girlfriend, harassing his brother’s wife and his own niece, getting drunk, high, violent and getting arrested…what conclusion would you come to?

You see where I’m going here?

Cleary, that reads like a really awful human being, not to mention a misogynist. And if that was all we knew, that's all we'd see. * But that's not all we know about Liam. Fans know there is more to Liam than this. Fans know he is a complicated person.

All we know of Sara are her nasty comments on IG, Liam’s nasty comments about her, Noel’s vaguely critical comments in interviews towards the end of the marriage (which is frankly, to be expected when a relationship is breaking up), photos of her wearing latex and liking/following BDSM clubs, rumours of her going to said clubs and her weird Vogue interview which reads like propaganda - but whose? Hers? Or Noel’s?

Is that evidence enough to confidently conclude that she’s an evil and controlling bitch? Would there not also be more to Sara? Would she not also be a complicated person?

There are always two sides. Always. I for one, would be very interested to know her thoughts on what it was like being married to Noel and what prompted the divorce, should she ever tell.

Being married to or partnered with a Gallagher would be hard, hard work. Both Gallaghers would require huge amounts of patience, understanding and people management skills. Both have issues. Life long deep-seated issues. There is likely mental health to consider. Do not have any issues yourself going into a relationship with either of those men because there won’t be time for you and your issues, their issues would impact, if not dominate the relationship. Their brotherhood would dominate. And that’s your starting point. Then there is Oasis. The fans.

Oh, but she should have known all this when she signed up? No, I don't think she did. I don't think anyone really could be prepared for life with a Gallagher.

My gut instinct is there are likely to be aspects of Sara that we’d find unlikable, just as there are aspects of Liam’s personal history we don’t like. Maybe there was a bit of social climbing, maybe she did think it’d be an easy life, maybe she really did try and keep the brothers apart, maybe she did find herself having to speak down to Noel in order not to be spoken down to by him. On the other hand, I suspect that Noel didn't turn out to be the attentive, devoted husband and committed father she imagined when she signed up to a life with him. Fatherhood? I strongly suspect there were issues there. It probably wasn’t the easiest life after all.

Maybe she felt like a single parent most of the time; lonely, isolated, and unloved when after spending so long away on tour, he barely noticed her when he returned, paying more attention to his guitar (he’s on record saying he would go straight to his guitar and she'd be telling him to go spend time with the boys he hadn't seen. He also joked that he had gotten good at pretending to listen to her while he was really focusing on playing his guitar). Maybe she grew tired of dealing with his issues when they were together. Tired of having to deal with her brother-in-law’s complicated personality, having to compete with him as well for her husband’s attention. Tired of being deprived of a healthy sexual relationship when he spent so many long months away and she was expected to remain faithful and abstain from sex for months on end which turned into years. And maybe that sacrifice had seemed small and doable at the time of signing up, and the 22 year reality was quite different. Or she discovered her feminism and didn't like him being sexist and ranting about wokeism, which was all he did during the tedious lockdowns? The lockdowns that showed them how after so long apart they had nothing in common anymore, nothing to talk about? Maybe he was controlling? Who knows. I don’t.

So I don’t champion Sara, but I don’t demonise her either. I expect I won’t like some things about her and some things she’s done, if it all comes out later on, but I’ll also sympathise. Pretty much like how I am with Noel and Liam.

So that's my big ol' opinion which is probably not shared by most, but there it is.

keep in mind, for a lot of people in the UK, that is all they know of Liam, ditto Noel, which is why they hate them. People from abroad are often surprised when they find out Oasis is not universally liked in the UK, in fact, they are detested by many. Read Guardian comments on them.

#opinion on sara #sara macdonald ask #liam gallagher #oasis #noel gallagher #sara madconald

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tvccreator · 2 years ago

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Some Tips/Tricks for Playing Balan Wonderworld

I know I’ve been posting a lot about this game, but honestly, it’s quickly become a guilty pleasure game for me at this point.

Just yesterday I was able to not only beat Lance, but I managed to complete all of the secret Act 3s, collect all 72 rainbow statues, and now have all 81 costumes (including the Demo Launcher, albeit that one doesn’t count towards the “Full Wardrobe” achievement.) So, as a result, I thought I’d post some tips and tricks for playing through the game just in case anyone ever wants to play it. I’ll also (hopefully) turn the tips and tricks into a YouTube video later so more people can find it.

Once again, since this is a long post and there are spoilers for the final boss, the tips will be under the “Keep Reading” bit. If you’re still here, here are six tips/tricks to help you out when playing Balan Wonderworld!!

Tip #1: Don’t worry about trying to find all of the hidden collectibles on your first run. This one is a no-brainer, but it can dishearten you if you’re trying to figure out where all of the collectibles are and you realize that you don’t have the right costume to get it. For me, the statues that made me sad were the ones trapped in Fixer-upper and Triple Jumper/Balan costume areas. The one in the picture requires either a jumping character like Triple Jumper or Balan. or you can use Gear Prince/Gear King later on.

Tip #2: Stockpile as many of the costumes as you can. Except for the Demo Launcher, all of the costumes are not unlimited. The Demo Launcher has an infinite amount that you can just pull from the wardrobe when/if you unlock it, but everything else is pretty finite. One costume specifically is going to be mentioned later in its own tip, but all of the other costumes can be stockpiled. I don’t know if there’s a limit to how many of each costume you can have - I think my highest pile was 17 Frost Fairy costumes at one point - but stockpile them so you don’t find yourself without one of the necessary costumes when you’re trying to go back for collectibles. I recommend using Key Mouse when you get them in Chapter 11 to help - it unlocks costumes without the costume keys, so Key Mouse is great to quickly stockpile costumes with.

Tip #3: Get the Balan costume as soon as possible. Later in the game if you have more than 15 Tims, it gets really easy to lose the three-badge Tims you need to get a King Tim, and that King Tim is necessary to unlock the Balan Costume. What I ended up doing on my second playthrough was I stopped collecting/hatching eggs at about 10 Tims, collected a bunch of drops, then mass fed my Tims. Easiest way to get the King Tim is to save before you start breeding two three-badge Tims, then if you don’t get the King Tim, soft-reset the game and try again. I got the King in... I want to say twelve or thirteen tries. It takes a while, but believe me, the Balan costume is worth it.

Tip #3.5: Once you have the Balan costume, save often and stockpile raindrops. It is ridiculously easy to lose the Balan costume in later chapters, so you’d best get a small collection of raindrops just in case you lose the costume and you get to a point where it saves your game before you can reset. The Balan costume is extremely useful later on since it can pretty much bypass every single level to get you to the end, and it also helps with collecting statues. He can jump ten times and fly around, so use him wisely.

You only get one Balan costume at a time, though, so you either should save before entering any levels or, if you lose the costume and the game resets, stockpile raindrops and feed them to the Ultima Tim. It gets pretty greedy later on in the game - the last time I lost the costume, it cost me 20 raindrops - so it’s just a better choice to save before each level. (Thank you to the people who told me to soft-reset the game if I lost Balan. 😄) There’s actually a cheat I found out about where, in Chapter 6 Act 2, if you activate the Father Tim statue, go back to the checkpoint, then head back to the statue, raindrops keep spawning in. You can use the Air Cat for it, too, so you won’t have to worry about losing any of your best costumes when the Air Cat costume box is just one room away.

Tip #4: If you don’t want to trigger Hard Mode, don’t rush taking down the Negati. I learned this the hard way during Chapter 5 when I took down a bunch of Negati earlier in Act 1 then got blindsighted by four red Hirahira (the floating Negati that shoot out bursts of wind). Twice. Easiest way to save yourself from triggering Hard Mode is, if you see the Negati are dropping the big 10x drops, stop attacking for a bit and run around.

Tip #5: Bring long-range attackers to the Lance fight. I ended up bringing Pumpkin Puncher, Guardian Bird, and Jellyjolt into the final boss fight, and they definitely help out with Phase One of Lance’s fight. Use Jellyjolt when Lance does his duplication attack (the electrical field helps with making sure you don’t get hit), then use Guardian Bird and/or Pumpkin Puncher when he does the Negati swarm attack. If you lose the long-range attackers, wait for Lance to use his duplication attacks again - the Negati swarm attack summons up a tentacle that you really want to avoid due to its range.

Tip #6: Tornado Wolf, Dynamic Dolphin, Aero Acrobat, and Frost Fairy are your best friends in phase two of Lance’s fight. During the final fight, Lance turns into a massive draconic Negati (y’know, as you do) and has four floating eyes around him. You only need to take down three, then wait for him to wear himself out and faceplant into the battle arena to finally beat him. (I’m not joking.)

Lance’s pre-phase two battle is mostly just to wear you down. He sends out massive shockwaves that you can jump over, then he hits you with a laser attack that you can’t dodge and that will one-hit KO you. Don’t worry, though - that’s part of the game. Afterwards, you’re given a cutscene where Balan reveals he brought all of your friends to help you in the fight, and your friends grant you their signature costumes to aid you.

Lance has four different attacks that he can do, and each comes with three of the twelve signature costumes:

Attack One - Aero Acrobat (Haoyu from Chapter 4), Air Cat (Cass from Chapter 6), and Dusk Butterfly (Yuri from Chapter 3) are your costumes. Lance will slam his fists into the ground and send shockwaves after you. You can either use Air Cat or Dusk Butterfly to get past them, then use Aero Acrobat to jump up and target one of the eyes. (It backfired on me the second time I had to do the fight, but Dusk Butterfly came in clutch and took out an eye, so I was happy.)

Attack Two - Water Blaster (Eis from Chapter 11), Quad Cannon (Cal from Chapter 7), and Invisible Man (Bruce from Chapter 12) are your costumes. Lance will attack you with projectiles that you have to dodge, then he’ll send two masked projectiles after you. I have no idea if you can hit those two projectiles and attack him with them, so I usually just ended up running around dodging that attack until I got to the next attack. Quad Cannon is really the only useful one in this fight, but even then, its ability requires you to stay still and the eyes don’t exactly get close enough for his attack to connect, so your best bet would be just run around and wait for the next attack.

Attack Three - Inky Painter (Lucy from Chapter 10), Dynamic Dolphin (Fiona from Chapter 2), and Frost Fairy (Iben from Chapter 8) are your costumes. Like back in Chapter 2′s boss fight with Anjellica, Lance will send pillars of water down to crush you at the same time that the arena starts breaking. You can use Dynamic Dolphin to swim to him and land a hit on one of the eyes. Afterwards, he’ll use an actual dangerous laser attack and wipe out massive parts of the battlefield. Try to dodge it to the best of your ability and sacrifice Inky Blaster if you need to (Frost Fairy is recommended for the final eye.)

Attack Four - Tornado Wolf (Jose from Chapter 1), Guardian Bird (Sana from Chapter 5), and Happy Blaster (Attilio from Chapter 9) are your costumes. Lance will send tornados after you like Barktholomew and Cuckoo did in Chapters 1 and 5, respectively. Use either Guardian Bird or Tornado Wolf to volley the tornados back at Lance three times, and you’ll take out one of the eyes.

One you’ve hit him three times (I believe - I only managed to take down three eyes in my playthrough, last I remember) - Lance will eventually get worn down and, like I said earlier, faceplant into the stage. You can use Frost Fairy to climb to his head or parkour up there with a jumping character from the other attacks, then attack the eye on his head to finally take Lance down.

Hopefully these tips help out! I’ll try to make a YouTube video compiling more tips than just these, so if you have any tips, feel free to comment!!

#balan wonderworld

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bluebayousblog · 2 years ago

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AFTERSHOCK

(Jacob Elordi One-Shot)

This is not a full on story but if you want more I’ll be happy to add on upon request

Plot: In which Jacob finds that the most frustrating part of cheating on his girlfriend was still loving her after.

Song: Glimpse of us - Joji

Visuals:

When Lauren was six months pregnant, at the end of her second trimester her boyfriend cheated on her. Not physically but mentally was the route he chose to take, as if it would make him feel less guilty in a sense.

Going through his phone wasn’t necessary, no she actually received a message from the lanky model he’d been going back and forth with, claiming him as hers. She confronted him, he’d tried to explain himself the best that a cheater could, continuously making it a point that he never slept with her.

It almost seemed rehearsed, like he knew that he wasn’t invincible, that he could get caught and had what he would say to her prepared.

He thought of his girlfriend whilst betraying her.

She kicked him out and everything changed after that, the two had never meant to become parents so young, it was an unexpected gift. Lauren was a mere twenty-one, but she was a strong girl, she could be a single mom, she could even peacefully co-parent with her daughter’s father.

It was just the fact that he broke his promise to always stand by her side when the pregnancy test turned out positive that she couldn’t shake.

And when he proved he couldn’t do that, she knew to never trust Jacob ever again.

“You know Gia likes it when we all cuddle on the couch together.” Jacob smirked as he looked up at Lauren from their daughter who sat beside him on the couch.

They hadn’t been together in over a year, but it felt like she saw him even more since the split. Especially with their daughter now being one, she was always crying to be around her father, he filled the role phenomenally, a part of his empty promises he’d managed to keep. “Yeah, I know.”

“So come over and lay with us,” he insisted, waving Gia’s hand in the air in a beckoning manor, “Don’t you want mommy to cuddle with us Gigi?”

Her little baby squeaked out a yes giving her no choice but to go over there and get as close as she could to the cute little creature she created. Lauren had no idea how she made something so lovable, something she created with a man who betrayed her trust.

When she was pregnant she somehow hoped Gia would get everything from her, she hated the thought of her inheriting anything from someone that could make her feel such pain. Of course she’d gotten the opposite, her daughter was a spitting image of Jacob, the man that had permanently broken her heart in two.

But as time passed wounds healed, her’s slowly but surely.

Lauren didn’t think she was completely capable of forgiveness, but she could be comfortable with him, especially when it came to their daughter, that’s when being with him was the easiest, when they were making her happy.

Gia smiled widely up at her mother when she joined them, the smile that belonged to none other than Jacob pasted on her little face, “She looks just like you.”

“She looks like her gorgeous mother to me.” He countered looking between the both of them before finally settling his eyes on Lauren.

“Jacob.” She scolded, the girl hated when he complimented her.

She hated the way it made her feel, how it yanked at her heart and made her melt inside. It was how he’d gotten her to go on a date with him after numerous attempts, always making an effort to make her feel beautiful.

She wanted to hate him for what he did to her, and the more he paid attention to her and their daughter the harder it was.

“What Lauren I’m just telling the truth, my daughter looks like her beautiful mother.” He repeated. It was obvious we’d created a human, but hearing it come out of his mouth made it all the more real?

“Yeah, okay.” She rolled her eyes.

Jacob was trying with her, wanting to mend their relationship that they had before, but she gave him nothing in return. Sure she loved him as her child’s father, but her wall was up, too afraid to be hurt again.

But still, there was also a part of her that didn’t want him to give up.

“Gigi, standup and smile next to daddy.” She told her daughter as she leaned over to tickle her.

Lauren pulled her phone out as soon as she pulled herself up on his shoulder, Jacob swooping her up and pressing his cheek against her chubby one. He tickled her belly immediately getting a giggle out of her before he also smiled at the camera, Lauren quickly capturing the moment.

As she looked down at the photo her stomach flipped, Gia and Jacob both with the widest smile with all their teeth showing, Gia mostly having gums that is.

She flipped the phone screen towards him, Gia smiling once again as she looked at herself like she always did, “Well, shit you aren’t lying when we’re side by side like that.”

He grabbed the phone tapping the screen and sending it to himself before he made it his lock screen making a little smile appear on Lauren’s face, the girl didn’t think she could ever get tired of watching Jacob exist as a dad.

“It’s because you got on my everlasting nerves when I was pregnant.” She joked, honestly not meaning anything by it, but looked over to see him staring down at the ground as Gia played with his hair and leaned her head on his chest meaning she was getting sleepy .

This was something that happened often, Lauren always subconsciously bringing up their breakup. Though she was joking most times, he’d always visibly seemed to get his feelings hurt but remained quiet. She hated that she felt bad for it, it was how she coped with things like that, humoring herself so it feel like less real.

“I’m gonna go put her to bed really quick.” He mumbled as he stood up with Gia in his arms walking down the hall and disappearing into her room.

He wouldn’t be gone long, she never put up a fight to go to bed when it came to her dad, but Lauren on the other hand she gave hell. She rolled her eyes as he walked out of the room in a record breaking five minutes, a smile on his face when he saw her reaction.

“You know when you put her to bed she expects to see you in the morning when she wakes up.” She sighs.

I could feel the pain in my left ear from the agonizing screams Gia let out when she realized it was just me that would be accompanying her until her dad came back. She definitely loved her mommy, she’d just loved Jacob a whole lot more, no matter how much time they spent together. “Are you saying I should stay tonight, Lauren?”

Yet another annoying smirk resting on lips, Jacob loved that his daughter needed him, but he became absolutely ecstatic when it was his ex-girlfriend asking for something. Lauren clicked her tongue starting to get up to go to her bedroom before he pulled her back down.

“I’m just joking with you, Lo, you know I love my little spot on the couch, as long as it means I get to see my girls in the morning.” he said with no shame, when she wasn’t giving him hell the girl swore it felt like he went on as if they were still together in his head.

She looked down, not wanting him to see the blush on her cheeks, they were too close in vicinity for him to be talking to her like this. She couldn’t hide how he managed to penetrate her heart that he’d turn cold. “You wish I was your girl, Jacob.”

“Yeah, I know.” He said matter of factly, placing a finger on her chin tilting it up until her eyes met his, “Let me just see your pretty face, I don’t need anything else.”

Lauren let him study her face, his head falling on the cushion, the look in his eyes heavy with admiration as if she was the most perfect thing he’d ever laid his eyes on. It was such a shift from the expression he had when he left to put Gia to bed.

“Why don’t you say anything when I bring up stuff about when I was pregnant, Jacob, especially if it makes you feel some sort of way?” Lauren pushed herself to ask, never sure if she wanted to delve into the subject.

He shrugged his shoulders and slumped further into the couch, “What am I supposed to say, Lauren, there’s not one thing I can come up with that excuses what I did.”

His words made my heart pound and my stomach twist in guilt. It had been months of Lauren constantly reminding him of his ministrations, he was always at her apartment, so it wasn’t often he got a break from it.

Jacob was telling her that he was aware of what he did, so much so that all he could do was sit there and take her sly digs. She could accept that, but I knew apart of me would be fully able to let the past go.

“Well don’t just sit there and let me be a bitch to you, you don’t deserve that-“ She started before he holds a hand up.

“-No, no, no don’t feel bad for me, I fucked up and I deserve every emotion you throw my way for however long you feel it.”

He was always so supportive, it was one of the things that made me fall in love with him, the man was even on board for me to continue despising him.

Was he supporting you through your pregnancy though?

She groaned out loud as the negative thoughts overpowered the good ones. Before she was filled with complete love for the boy, and now it was like a virus had entered her body and sucked away everything good that resided in her in regards to him romantically.

“I hope you know I try, Jacob.” She muttered, looking down at their knees touching, the closest we’d been while alone with each other in almost a year. Once again he tilted my chin up so I was looking into his eyes. “I wish I could erase the way you made me feel so we can be a family for Gia.”

“I know you are, Lauren, and if this is the best you can give me I’ll be fine with that. Always.” He comforted as he reached forward to grab my hand, rubbing the skin with his thumb, “You know what’s fucked up, Lo?”

The girl gave him a delayed hum in response, his touch lingering distracting her just a little, not enough for him to notice as he didn’t attempt to move his hand, and she didn’t either.

“I like when you reject me, it reminds me that I don’t deserve you, I’m not even sure that I ever will again.” He revealed, his words not reflecting on his face at all.

Jacob spoke like he’d come to terms with the most saddening revelation, but the look in his eyes said otherwise, like he’d fight for her even if it took forever, even if the end result didn’t turn out like he wanted.

“Jacob.” Lauren sighed beginning to pity him, did she have him in this deep, and if so what was so special about her?

Obviously not too special if he went out to seek attention from someone who looked nothing like you.

A deep sigh left her lips, she furrowed her

eyebrows as she tried her best to ignore the voice that he’d brought to life in her head, built off his lies and deceit, a lingering doubt for him that would not go away.

“I’m being serious, it reminds me of just when I think of I’ve done enough to win your trust back that I need to go ten times harder.” He squeezed her hand as if to further prove that he was not fucking with me at all, “I wish I could go and take it all back Lauren, I really fucking do.”

She always noticed even in the beginning of their relationship his accent always thickened when there was emotion built up within him, she even heard it when he told her he loved her. It always made her heart twist in a knot, like when he said it to her it was from the depths of him, the purest, truest parts of him.

Like Jacob loving Lauren was innate.

“We both know we can’t change the past, at least it hasn’t all been bad, look how good we are with our daughter.” Lauren couldn’t help but console him, to relax him a bit, knowing that he was getting worked up with himself.

“I know, but a big part of that is because you’re her mother, if it was anybody else-“ he trailed when he felt her tense at his words.

She was so transparent when it came to this, it made her feel weak like she had no backbone. Lauren knew she had never felt this particular betrayal in her life but it wasn’t like her to give herself a break.

“It’s just that, shit.” He stuttered as he continued trying to speak his feelings, “The fuck was I thinking cheating on the woman that was bearing one of the best gifts I’ve ever received, you gave me that, no one else.”

There he goes again, commending her, making her feel like she was the only girl in the world, and she hated that it contradicted everything that he also helped make her feel inside.

#euphoria #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #euphoria x reader #euphoria x fem!reader #jacob elordi x you #euphoria fic #euphoria fanfic #euphoria fandom

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celestialarchiveshq · 4 years ago

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Dearest Daddy

Dearest Daddy series, consisting of the haikyuu characters in the fatherhood universe!

Homesick by @aomineavenue

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Tags: dad!Atsumu x mom!Reader, Atsumu doesn’t know, six years timeskip, twins, angst, fluff if you close your eyes (lmao)

“Those kids probably aren’t even mine.”

“You were the only man I’ve ever been with. The only man that I’ve ever wanted. The only man I’ve ever loved. It’s always been you.”

status: ongoing | series masterlist | taglist: closed

Stubborn by @aomineavenue

Summary: Ushijima Wakatoshi and Kegeyama F/N have been secretly seeking out pleasure from each other for at least a year and a half. However, Y/N finds herself growing tired of the arrangement after being constantly hurt by the man she had grown feelings for. However, despite ending things with each other, she finds herself in a pickle when two pink lines screamed right back at her.

Tags: dad!Ushijima x mom!Reader, pregnancy trials, timeskip! fluffy, angsty.

“Why do you even care?”

“Are you crazy? I’ve always cared. Baby or no baby. Have my actions towards you not been enough for you to understand that it isn’t just you who have feelings for the other? Do I really need to spell things out for you?”

status: coming soon | series masterlist | taglist: open

Playing House by @toorusushijima

Summary: A tragic accident brings two enemies together under one roof as sole guardians of their late best frien’s baby daughter. Will they survive together and find happiness through the bundle of joy in their lives? Or will their hatred for each other win over for the worst?

Tags: godfather!sakusa x godmother!reader, enemies to lovers??, angsty, fluffy.

“Why does it matter if I’m going out with someone?”

“Can’t you stop for a second and think what’s best for our child!”

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

Scheming Monsters by @kaitycole

Summary: Two little friends have always desired one thing. To end up as siblings. So when the chance presented itself after a finalized divorce, who were they to decline such an opportunity to finally bring their parents together?

Tags: singledad!bokuto x singlemom!reader, divorced, friends to lovers?? all fluff, maybe a little angst if you use a magnifying glass.

"Shouldn't we just tell them we're dating?"

"No, it's funny to watch them think they're so slick."

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

Brilliant Opportunities by @velvetfireworks

Summary: Divorced, single father Oikawa finds himself in a pickle when his ex wife comes barging back in his life demanding full custody over their son for her greedy needs, he seeks assistance from the woman he wished he had married in the first place.

Tags: divorced!oikawa, singledad!oikawa, best friends to lovers to ex lovers, reunion, fluffy, angsty.

"What do you say? Would you marry me?"

"Sure, I think I can squeeze you in this weekend. How does Saturday sound?"

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

Bonding Bliss by @newfriendjen

Summary: Single parents Kita and L/N find spending more time with each other through their daughters' bonding play dates, not realizing their growing feelings for each other. But as sweet as it is, it's not always cupcakes and rainbows when people from the past return.

Tags: singledad!kita x singlemom!reader, fluffy fluffy cotton, angst :c

"I can't believe she had the audacity to come barging back into her life and think makeup would be perfect as a gift for a six years old!"

"Yeah, oh and I told her we were dating if that's okay."

"Oh that's fin—what?"

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

Meddling by @shoyomeow

Summary: A tale of how Matsukawa’s little boy, his pride and joy, helps him find the love he truly deserves.

Tags: single!dadxMatsukawa, fluffy. Just fluff. That’s it.

"Uh, what are you doing here?"

"What do you mean? You texted me to come over."

Oh.

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

Escape Plan by @hidden-otaku-stuff

Summary: Growing up in a traditional family always had its ups and downs. Arranged marriages was the very one of them that you dreaded ever since your contract had been presented to you at the age of eighteen. L/N F/N seeks help from an old flame as her 24th birthday fast approaches, wanting nothing more than to escape the wedding of the century the country had claimed.

Tags: traditional, rich family au! angst, crack fic, fluffy soft boy tendou here and there.

"I mean, yeah sure. I've always wanted to be a dad."

"That's great! How about putting a bun in my oven?"

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

Replica by @daifwukus

Summary: To get back at her cheating boyfriend, L/N F/N finds herself a man during a party in her college years. Never had she expected that she would have fallen pregnant over it. Things only get complicated a few years later when the man she despises comes barging back in her life demanding why her son looked exactly like him.

Tags: college party, enemies to parents?? crack fic, lil bit of fluff if you squint, angst.

"Care to explain why that little toddler in your arms looks exactly like me when I was younger?"

"What crack are you on and where can I get some?"

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

Wishing Upon A Star by @keijikunn

Summary: Calling him daddy was something your daughter had wished upon a falling star one night ever since you had introduced him as your boyfriend. The three of you finally find the right pace on becoming a happy family that your daughter dreamed of, but what happens when the man that had wanted nothing to do with you and your daughter returns?

Tags: singlemom!reader, angst, angst, ANGST. Only a little bit of fluff.

“Did you catch what she called me? She really said it!”

“Yeah, I did. She’s been wanting to call you daddy for the longest time.”

status: wip | series masterlist | taglist: open

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featherfur · 3 years ago

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Oh you know what else is awful :Re people's reactions to JC's childhood? A lot of JFM apologism consists of 'that's just how (Chinese) fathers are'.

Like maybe MXTX was trying to get at something, what with the yunmeng siblings having terrible coping mechanisms and poor communication, when she wrote JFM.

Why does everyone just assume JFM was a good parent just because WWX puts him in a good light? Of course he does! WWX's other option is sleeping on the streets so of course he regards JFM as kind and charitable!

But that doesn't erase the fact that JFM is a neglectful father who babysits his 'easiest to get along with' child when he feels like and leaves him for his wife to abuse when he does not to WWX, and a neglectful father who ignores his heir who is desperate to for validation, or a neglectful father who leaves his eldest daughter to raise the other children while making major life decisions for her without consulting her. Just because this is 'normal' does not make it right.

look, im not here to tell anyone who to like or who to hate but there is a Lot of JFM apologism that absolutely reeks of misogyny. And I don't say that lightly.

Saying "thats just how fathers are" doesn't... make him a good dad. It really doesn't excuse anything, it just says that you think it's okay for fathers to be bad parents because it's just what happens. Instead of like, acknowledging that it's not a good thing to be and that a good parent should yknow, be a parent.

Both Madam Yu and JFM are both horrible parents they're just on opposite sides of the spectrum. JFM is no less neglectful and abusive just because he isn't screaming. He doesn't parent any of his kids, he just exists with them and relies on the fact that his wife taught his son and daughter responsibility and hopes that WWX will learn it through osmosis or by his wife. He's a glorified babysitter at best and while WWX does put him on a pedestal, we also see JFM being neglectful in canon multiple times, and WWX is not a reliable narrator. Just because he says that JFM is great and wondrous, doesn't mean that he is especially when we then get scenes of proof that he just sucks. (Also a lot of those moments of him being a good uncle are just... JFM letting him get away with shit.)

And honestly like, if your kid goes around wondering if you actually like him then you've failed as a parent. No matter how good you are to the other kid. You don't get to just choose a kid to care for (which he does in like the worst way). I get that people like characters that are good to their fav and the MC but sometimes man,,, idk I don't like him lmao. He's not a good father even to WWX and it irritates me when ppl act like he was, or blame JC and Yanli for JFM being a shit dad. Or when they blame Madam Yu for Fengmian being a shit dad. Like no, look. I get it. You hate your wife (who you signed up to marry) and you feel like you got the short end of the stick. The person you loved went off to die in the wilderness and abandoned you. You're upset.

You're still a fucking parent. You don't get to ignore and belittle your kids because your wife sucks, because you're unhappy, because you didn't marry the person you wanted. Not to mention you're a pretty shit husband too, you give no shits about the rumors that are hurting your wife and your kids because heaven forbid you make a point to be like "Yeah no Wei Wuxian isn't my kid, my kid is the one in purple. The one with anxiety. And I wouldn't cheat on my wife." It's also the reason I get very aggravated when modern au's have JFM suddenly be a great dad because he's single. No he was a shit parent before WWX and if the reason is because he doesn't like his wife then he's a shit parent anyway. Madam Yu is more likely to be a decent mother, traditional and strict as hell, without a husband letting her name and her kids get dragged through the mud and everything her son has being put in danger because JFM can't be bothered to tell the kid he brought home that he has to follow the rules.

This doesn't even go into the stereotypes of mothers and how women are punished and hated a thousand times more than men because that's "just how men are".

I just,,, so much of the apologism is just refusing to admit that father's should be good parents. So unfortunately the more ppl try to apologize for him and insist he's secretly a good dad, the more i despise him and understand where Madam Yu is coming from. But people are welcome to make their own decisions, and at the end of the day they're both horrible parents and really should not have been allowed to be near kids as anything more than actual aunts and uncles so that the kid can go home and get a decent family dynamic

#danny answers #Jiang Fengmian #I hope this makes sense lmao I'm sure there's a more eloquent way to say it #Also like legit I don't say Misogyny lightly because I've dealt with fuck ass terfs who throw it around at everything #but yeah no like 85% of JFM apologism is just misogyny and the idea that dads just have to exist to be good parents #I do understand Madam Yus position more because she and my own mother were in near identical circumstances #and they're both shit parents #but atleast JC and Yanli never doubt that their mother loves them #The reason I think Madam Yu would be half decent in modern au is because JC (we have more information regarding his feelings than Yanli)#Never doubts that his mother loves and cares for him and Madam Yu's insults toward her husband are about WWX and the rumors #which kind of implies she really didn't have any complaints other than that because I don't think she's the type to just let one argument #go just because a new weapon appeared #Like is she a good mother in potential modern au? No probably not #but considering her husband #she'd be fine #Neither of them should have had kids tho theyre the definition of they only had kids because they had too #man do you ever think about how those nights must have been when they fucked??#or if the pregnancy didn't take??#did they think the marriage would work with the birth of Yanli? Was JFM affectionate then? Was JFM a decent lover for like 10 minutes and #then JC was born and he was like 'actually this kid sucks lets never fuck again'

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quizzyisdone · 4 years ago

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Black Ops Cold War Headcanons: Crying and Comforting

A/N: Some headcanons relating to how the safehouse crew show pain and sorrow, what upsets them, what comforts them, as well as how they comfort others! I hope you enjoy <3

Russell Alder

🚬 Very rarely cries, not because he doesn’t want to, but because his body won’t physically let him. No matter how much his brain is screaming for some kind of release, his body will just be like “No.”.

🚬 When he does, only a few tears fall. He has only ever been so overcome with emotions to actually sob uncontrollably a few times in his life, and that was when he was younger. If he’s at that point, literally nothing can comfort him. That’s how you also know the situation is baaaaaad.

🚬 The first time he properly cried, the sobbing and the full works of it, was when his mother died. He hadn’t shed a single tear over his father’s death, but his mother, oh man. She had meant so much to him.

🚬 Not much can evoke an emotional response, whether that'd be sorrow or anger. However, being lied to and betrayed is the thing that really gets under his skin the most, which Adler finds to be rather ironic given what he does for a living.

🚬 If someone he thought he cared for and was close to (which isn't a lot of people) has betrayed him, he'd shed a few tears before getting back to business.

🚬 He loved his ex-wife a lot, thought she was the love of his life, so when she cheated on him, that struck him deep. Adler will never say it out loud, but it still hurts him, and a part of him will always be broken because of her.

🚬 The only other things that can provoke emotional responses from him are things he finds to be morally abhorrent, which truthfully, isn't much given his Adler's line of work. One surefire way to upset him, however, is to abuse society's most vulnerable, especially children. Despite his stormy, gruff nature, he’s got a soft spot.

🚬 As for comforting a crying person, he’s weirdly good at it. Everyone but Sims has always been baffled by his ability to calm people down, to even be gentle if the situation calls for it. Sims knows better though, they’ve been through a lot of shit together.

🚬 The very presence of Adler is calming and will ground you. He knows exactly what to say and do in almost every situation to calm you down.

🚬 His ex-wife suffered from panic attacks a lot as well, he always knew exactly what to do to ground her and bring her back from that point.

🚬 He’s also really good at hugging and cuddles, but he’ll almost never give them. (Unless he’s actually in a committed relationship.)

Frank Woods

💥 Similar to Adler, he doesn’t cry very often. Woods is emotional and wears his heart on his sleeve, but due to his upbringing, he feels as if he can’t show any negative emotion other than anger.

💥 But, whenever he is safe and alone, that’s when the dam breaks. Woods feels every emotion so strongly, love, joy, pain, anger, and sorrow is no exception. This certainly doesn’t help the PTSD he developed after Vietnam.

💥 When he does cry, full on sobs wrack his body and he shakes violently. His voice gets higher and he has a hard time speaking. At that point, he doesn’t want to talk, he just wants his partner to hold him until it subsides.

💥 Woods finds that physical touch grounds him more than anything else. Trying to talk him out of that state will only ever make it worse. He needs to calm down before he tries to say anything.

💥 The easiest way to get to Woods is by hurting the ones he loves, such as Mason, David, or his S/O in a way that Woods is helpless to respond to. It kills him knowing that someone he cares for is suffering and there's nothing he can do about it. He’ll want to maim whoever hurt them and get super protective over them.

💥 But when it comes time to actually comfort his partner, he’ll always try to do what he finds to be calming, which is holding them in complete silence. But that doesn’t always work, especially if touch might overstimulate the person and make matters worse.

💥 He’ll get visibly frustrated if hugs and cuddles do not work. Woods needs verbal communication as to what he needs to do to make everything better. He’ll try his best, whether that’d be through talking it out (Although, Woods isn’t much of a talk-it-out kinda guy) or just sitting across the room from them, reminding them that he’s here and they’re safe with him.

💥 Man is even better at hugging than Adler, bonus points because he’s also more generous with them too. Just a giant ass teddy bear if he cares for you. He loves just being super close physically to the person he's romantically involved with. Mason always gives him grief for how much of a cuddle bug Woods is.

Alex Mason

💯 Before the Russians put his mind in a blender, he almost never cried or really felt upset at all. That still rings somewhat true to this day, but he’s more prone to emotional outbursts.

💯 When Mason is upset, he normally first resorts to anger that’ll eventually melt into tears. When he gets to that point, he needs somebody to talk to him, to distract him.

💯 Woods and Hudson are the best at grounding him, especially when he begins to see the numbers again. They’ll force him to answer personal questions (i.e., What’s his son’s name, What day was he born, What’s the best part about having a child.) in order to distract him.

💯 Talking about David is the best medicine, because despite how distant he is as a father, Alex truly loves his child. Also, the presence of two familiar people, the people who have always been a constant in his life, is really comforting to him.

💯 The best way for someone to comfort him is to keep their distance, but keep talking. Touch will be too overstimulating and he'll accidentally lash out with violence. He needs to be distracted by the voices of someone who is real, who is present.

💯 What upsets him the most is when the numbers start coming back, of course. When he's reminded of the past he'd rather leave buried. Of course, being that his past is such an integral part of who he is, that'll never happen. Woods tries to help him live with that.

💯 On the flip side, Mason really shines in his ability to comfort others, especially his partner. After the whole brainwashing situation, he just innately knows exactly what someone needs in that moment.

💯 He’ll do what you need, not what you want. He’ll force you to do what you need to do in order to feel better, even if he’s harsh about it. (”Get up we’re going grocery shopping.” or “Get dressed we’re grabbing dinner.”)

💯 Mason will always apologize if he feels that he’s been too rough or crossed a line. He always has the best intentions.

Jason Hudson

🕶️ Hudson, while outwardly he appears calm, cool, collected, he’s secretly more emotional than he’d like to admit. He takes every failure personally and 100% will internalize it.

🕶️ When the weight of the work he does for the CIA begins to fall down on him, like Mason, Hudson will first lash out in anger at whoever is there to suffer his rage. Once he’s alone though, that anger turns into tears.

🕶️ He isn’t one for crying or showing emotion in general, it feels shameful to him. Hudson needs someone to tell him that what he’s feeling is okay and valid. That he’s not going crazy for sometimes cracking under pressure.

🕶️ Reassurance is key for him, Hudson doesn’t need to talk it out or a hug. Just needs to be told that he’s okay, that he’s not insane for feeling perfectly human emotions.

🕶️ It’s not easy to get to Hudson, but similar to Woods, the most surefire way to make him lose his shit is by hurting someone he loves, especially his kids. His vision will go red, and he will not be able to see reason. All rational thinking is thrown out the window when his children are involved.

🕶️ As for comforting someone, he’s awkward about it and doesn’t really know how to proceed in the situation. Mason is really the only one he knows how to deal with, strangely enough. Everyone else is an enigma to him.

🕶️ He’ll ask them what they need and go off on that. Hudson, however, is best at talking it out. Physical touch and reassurance is something he tries, but never feels like he gets right, even if the person he’s comforting begs to differ.

Eleazar “Lazar” Azoulay

🥡 Lazar is an optimist to a fault, a kind of happy-go-lucky type of dude. He doesn’t like to feel nor show any negative emotion, regardless of what it is. So, he’ll push those feelings down, keep up a front of unbothered happiness.

🥡 The problem with this is that he is so easily hurt. After a while, after so long of pushing it all away, he’ll explode. Lazar is a ticking time bomb of emotions, one that is impossible to defuse.

🥡 When it all comes boiling over, he’s genuinely scary. The first thing to come out is rage, complete and utter anger at no one in particular. Thoughts become irrational, he doesn’t know what he’s even doing. At that point, Lazar needs to be handled delicately, and from a distance. Once he gets over that initial outburst, however, he’s a lot easier to deal with.

🥡 After that outburst of anger, Lazar needs to be held while he talks about everything. At this point, he’s a blubbering mess that goes on an incoherent rant about everything that has happened leading up to this point.

🥡 Since his outbursts are just a culmination of little things over a long period of time, it’s the little things that set it off. Somebody looks at him funny, says something a bit off. Lazar is such a coolheaded guy so it baffles everyone who doesn’t know him when he gets like that.

🥡 On the other side, I can see Lazar not being so sure as how to comfort others. He doesn’t like any negative type of emotion and will always try to distract the person, rather than actually let them be in their feelings.

🥡 If that doesn’t work, he’ll resort to taking action against whoever hurt you, or try to do whatever he can to fix what’s bothering you. If someone hurt your feelings or betrayed you, he’ll pop a cap in their ass. (I mean, he literally did murder some lady that betrayed Park)

🥡 But sometimes, problems don’t have practical solutions. If that’s the case, Lazar will be lost. At that point, the only thing he’ll have left in his bag of tricks is food and hugs. Those make him feel better, so maybe it’ll help you.

🥡 At the end of the day, him just holding you is the biggest comfort. He’s a 6′4 hunk of man who gives the best cuddles and hugs. He’s so physically big that it’s just so easy to be completely engulfed by him.

Helen Park

🔪 When she was younger, Park used to be super emotional all the time. Every little thing would hurt her. As she’s grown up and worked with MI6, however, that’s changed. She’s been desensitized, but not to the point where she completely lacks empathy or emotion in general.

🔪 When Park is finally broken, the dam will burst. When she cries, she sobs. The tears flow like there’s no tomorrow, she’ll be shaking, blubbering, not really knowing what to say.

🔪 Of course, she’ll keep these outbursts incredibly private, especially from Adler. She’s terrified of letting him see her this way.

🔪 Similar to Hudson, what upsets her the most is when the weight of her work begins to come down. She realizes the heinous, heartless things she does on a daily basis, and it makes her feel like a such a bitch.

🔪 While Park would help Adler maintain Bell’s conditioning, sometimes she would just...break. She helped develop this science, she’s inflicting the pain it causes on others.

🔪 Park feels like a monster for doing this to Bell, and after the tears are done, will try and make up for it in little ways. She’ll be nicer than everyone else is to the new member of the team, she’ll indulge them stupid little secrets to make them laugh. It’s her way of comforting herself, to make her feel as if she’s not wholly a monster.

🔪 Sometimes, the good things she does to outweigh the bad ones aren’t enough to comfort herself. In that case, she’ll need reassurance. Not just from anyone, however, but someone she cares about.

🔪 Park will need a simple hug and just be told that just because she does bad things, does not mean she’s a bad person. Reassurance from someone she loves or admires, more than anything, is the key to making her feel better.

🔪 As for comforting others, she’s really good at it, not in the same way Adler or Mason is, though. Park innately knows exactly what to say to calm someone down. Something about her demeanor, how friendly she is, is so comforting.

🔪 Little physical bits of affection is also something she’ll utilize, such as grabbing your hand or a hand on your shoulder. Park is well aware that too much touch is overstimulating, while too little is underwhelming, and leaves people prone to feeling unloved. Her kind words are always backed with something.

🔪 She’s a good hugger, too. I can imagine her giving the “mom hugs”. Y’know, those types of hugs where you feel understood, protected, and cared for in that person’s arms. (Mason has mom hugs too, not dad hugs)

Lawrence Sims

🔧 In case you didn’t notice, this list was going in order from least well-adjusted to most well-adjusted. Sims is the most emotionally balanced person on that emotionally dysfunctional team. (Probably because he’s the only one who actually goes to therapy.)

🔧 He can handle his emotions pretty well on his own. The only time where he’ll ever be on the edge is in extremely stressful situations that force him to relive his past.

🔧 This happened when Sims found out about Adler brainwashing Bell to believe they were in Vietnam. That pissed him off to no end. Not only did he himself have to relive that shit, but he had to witness someone who wasn’t even there relive it. The PTSD and all those memories are something he wouldn’t even wish on his worst enemy, let alone Bell.

🔧 He’ll react in anger, he’ll be distant. But for the love of God, Sims won’t want to be alone in his thoughts. Sims needs someone in there with him, to let him talk it out and rant while lending an ear.

🔧 Sims will shed a few tears, but he learned some tricks in therapy to calm himself down, so he won’t be blubbering and snotty and the like. If he has someone who won’t judge him to talk to, Sims is golden.

🔧 Comforting is something that he isn’t necessarily amazing at, especially if you need physical touch and genuine advice. Sims will be distant, and instead employ tactics he learned from his shrink, which is sit there and listen. Don’t comment on anything unless asked. Maybe he’ll give a pat on the back if you’re lucky.

🔧 Physical touch is too much for him if you’re not literally dating him. Sims prefers to keep a healthy distance. But if you’re in a relationship, he’ll try. Hugging and cuddling to comfort isn’t his strong suit, but what matters is that he’ll try, albeit awkwardly.

#russell adler #frank woods #alex mason #eleazar azoulay #lazar azoulay #jason hudson #helen park #lawrence sims #black ops cold war #call of duty black ops #bocw #bo:cw #call of duty #cod #quizzy writes #headcanons

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obscuredeliights · 3 years ago

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sen mitsuji & he/him / cis male ‷ watch out , takaharu mochizuki has crash-landed into roswell !! they look thirty-two years old and celebrate their birthday on february fourteenth. they are from adelaide, south australia, reside in moonbeam gardens, and are currently working as owner and general manager of cosmic candy. one thing you should know about them is that he has a degree in philosophy and asian and middle eastern studies from duke university.‷

content warning: cheating/infidelity; divorce; drug use/addiction

Full name: Takaharu Mochizuki (in western order; Mochizuki is his surname) → Kanji: 望月貴陽 (Mochizuki Takaharu) 望 (mochi) meaning "wish, desire" and 月 (tsuki) meaning "moon;” together meaning “full moon” 貴 (taka) meaning “precious” and 陽 (haru) meaning “sun”

Nicknames: Taka; Taki; Tako; Haru....he calls people by nicknames all the time so it’s only fair to do it to him too; but the easiest, go-to one is Taka

Gender & pronouns: cis male, he/him

Romantic/sexual orientation: homoromantic, homosexual

DOB: 14 February 1990

Place of birth: Adelaide, South Australia, Australia

Relationship status: single but crushing

Occupation: owner and general manager of Cosmic Candy; drummer of Fish Brains; philanthropist; model

Education: Bachelor’s degree, philosophy and Asian and Middle Eastern studies (double major), Duke University, Durham, NC

Languages: English; Japanese; French; some Okinawan; some Mandarin; some Arabic; some Korean; a little Hindi

Length of time in Roswell: 4ish years

Pets: Koki (male, Maltese); Nana (female, pug); Miyu (female, pug)

biography

Being born on Valentine's Day is unfortunate irony for someone who ends up not really understanding love in any form. Taka's parents' relationship started out fine—Kenta, a successful anesthetist originally from Japan, and Beth, general legal counsel at a prominent multi-million corporation—got along great initially, though there always seemed to be a bit of an imbalance. Kenta was wholeheartedly devoted to his wife, almost to a comical degree; it was a bit of a joke among both their workplaces, how Kenta was hopelessly obsessed with Beth, who from the outside sometimes barely gave him the time of day. By the time Taka was ten, however, everything had come to light, pieces falling into place, and a marriage torn apart. It was difficult to believe that Kenta was unaware of his wife's serial infidelity; it was very likely that he had looked the other way because he didn't want to tear his perfect little family apart. Beth's excuse was that she just wasn't cut out for married life. Then why lie?

Taka had always been a spoiled kid, never wanting for anything in the world thanks to his extremely wealthy parents. Their only condition ever was for him to do well in school, which was always a breeze for the naturally intelligent boy. And as long as he kept that up, Kenta and Beth would continue attempting to buy their son's happiness. This kicked into high gear when divorce proceedings began, both parents trying to buy loyalty from—and thus custody of—their son. In the end, Kenta gained majority custody of Taka, as the man had always shown a little more sincerity in his intentions; while Beth would get the boy during his breaks from school.

With "comfortable" being an understatement for his upbringing, Taka always had many luxuries at his disposal. He was able to start any hobby he showed interest in; he took a particular liking to surfing, but also skateboarding, and playing the drums. He was able to take lessons for all of those, as well as clarinet lessons so he could play for school. Even as a child, he had a bit of a haughty demeanor: picky, a little grumpy, vocal about his distaste for anything. His attitude didn't make him many friends for a while.

When Taka was fifteen, his father broke some big news to him: Kenta had met a woman on the internet, and he was planning on moving to the United States to be with her. And he wanted his son to come with him, though ultimately it was the boy's own choice. Taka was ambivalent initially, but upon hearing that the locale was Malibu, he agreed to move hemispheres with his dad. As a high schooler, being from Australia, having a thick accent, surfing and skateboarding and playing the drums, being good-looking, and being wealthy and a bit stuck-up all made him an instant success, making the adjustment easy as he was welcomed with open arms. His sassy and sarcastic attitude was more appreciated, and suddenly he was popular and magnetic. Taka was always busy doing something with somebody, yet still maintaining high grades in school. And Kenta and Beth both continued bankrolling their only child to make sure he was happy (and to make him love them more).

Nearing the end of high school, like usual it was time for teenagers to decide what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives. Taka didn't have any plans, nothing ever really stuck to him, but he still applied to many top universities, gaining acceptance from all. His parents really wanted him to go to college for something, they didn't particularly care what for. He ended up at Duke University—consistently rated among the top ten universities in the United States—and eventually studying a double major: philosophy, and Asian and Middle Eastern studies. He had no idea what he was going to do with either of those things but he did it anyway; his father was proud of Taka continuing to honor their Japanese ancestry, and both parents were satisfied enough with the intellectual nature of philosophy, even if they too couldn't think of any uses for it.

Being wealthy, attractive, and magnetic meant that Taka's popularity continued throughout his university years. He could spend most of his weekend partying and miss a couple Monday classes and still end up with high marks. Being a popular party boy landed him with an unfortunate little cocaine habit. He suffered in silence—he had never been very good at expressing himself beyond trivial matters, and the people he surrounded himself with either didn't notice or didn't care. There was an attempt at quitting during his final semesters of college, but the coke was too useful for getting through lectures and papers and exams. He managed to graduate with high honors and distinction; and then spent a summer detoxing, alone in Myrtle Beach, all his friends from Durham having forgotten about him.

That was the thing. Being rich, and being fun; rarely anybody had ever looked past these superficial parts of Taka. He was always a lonely soul. And after coming out of the haze of detox, he heightened his senses towards anyone who might have just been using him for money, cutting them off quickly. He was generous—is generous, but it's because the only way he's ever known how to show someone he cares is through money. Thanks, Mummy and Daddy. He spent some more time in Myrtle Beach, working menial jobs, allowing himself to blend in for a while and see more of actual life. He'd never been ignorant of his station in life, but having firsthand experiences of the world beneath him opened his eyes more.

Never having had a real direction in life, Taka eventually decided to pack up and move to Roswell, of all places, because it seemed kind of fun. His parents never really questioned him, just continuing to support him unwaveringly. He worked a few different jobs, mostly retail, and then eventually landed at Cosmic Candy, where he worked himself up the ranks despite maybe being intellectually overqualified for the place. Not accepting bullshit and being a good problem-solver ended up with him eventually being chosen by the owner to become the new general manager of the store. And a little more than a year ago, the now-previous owner notified Taka that they intended upon selling the store but offered it to him first. He accepted without needing to think about it too much. He has high standards for employment, but also treats his employees well, making Cosmic a little bit of a coveted place to work at among retail workers, with a generous starting wage, reasonable scheduling, and well thought out guidelines on things such as time off. In the time he's worked there, Taka has also started stocking new, interesting things, including gourmet candies and imports.

During the time he's been in Roswell, Taka joined the band Fish Brains as their drummer. In spite of his prickly, often grumpy exterior, he does care a lot about the other band members, though he doesn't verbalize it of course. He's the sugar daddy, always prepared to buy new equipment for the others, and actually just finished having a room in his house be soundproofed for them to practice in; he's also something of a reluctant den mother to them, being the oldest, being bossy, and letting them hang around as much as they want without question.

Though to most he may come off as cold and bitter and heartless, those that know Taka well enough are aware that there's some softness inside of him—he just clearly doesn't know how to express it. Any words of sincere affection towards him are treated with mock disgust, to hide how flustered he really gets since he doesn't know how to take a real compliment. He still comes off as haughty and snobbish, but it's mostly because he doesn't keep many close friends, being extremely wary of anyone who might want to use him and abuse his generosity. Those he does keep close aren't given many words of appreciation, but they will know that they're liked and wanted just by Taka's actions, even if there are still many jokes to be made about his seemingly cold, frozen soul. He's known for being a bit of a serial dater, because he does crave love and validation, but he isn't totally sure what he wants in a partner.

wanted/suggested plots/connections

The squad—Taka doesn't have a lot of close friends but his little squad would be a special handful that he lets close to him. Preferably 27+

Regular customers at the store

Loyal fans—Fish Brains isn't big or anything but local bands still have their supporters

...or loyal fans—your muse is just showing up to shows for Taka

Tinder/Grindr matches and dates—Taka is picky so most of the time these go nowhere, but there are bound to be a lot because he can’t stay off dating apps for long. Preferably 28+

Unrequited crush—Taka doesn’t notice your muse, or they aren’t his type

Romantic interest—Taka hasn't really had a serious relationship before since he's so picky, as well as bad at expressing himself and allegedly "allergic to feelings." a romantic ship might break him a little but in a fun way. he wants to be wanted for him, not just his money or looks, and he's instantly suspicious of any man who tries to get close to him. Preferably 28+

#roswellintro #lmk if you want to plot!!#as always the list of plots/connections are just suggestions!!!

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friendlyneighborhoodpsyop · 3 years ago

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Quotes about Kaz Brekker:

Every act of violence was deliberate, and every favor came with enough strings attached to stage a puppy show.

The boy called Dirtyhands didn’t need a reason any more than he needed permission.

He was a collection of hard lines and tailored edges.

“Who’d deny a poor cripple his cane?” “If the cripple is you, then any man with sense.”

“I’m a business man,” he’d told her. “No more, no less.” “You’re a thief, Kaz.” “Isn’t that what I just said?”

“I’m not here for a taste. You want a war, I’ll make sure you eat your fill.”

The boy he’d been talking to had been cocky, reckless, easily amused, but not frightening—not really. Now the monster was here, dead-eyed and unafraid. Kaz Brekker was gone, and Dirtyhands had come to see the rough work done.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you one day, Brekker.” “I will,” said Kaz, “if there’s any justice in the world. And we all know how likely that is.”

“Well I’m the kind of bastard they only manufacture in the Barrel.”

Inej was always trying to wring little bits of decency from him. “When everyone knows you’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.”

“Greed is your god, Kaz.” He almost laughed at that. “No, Inej. Greed bows to me. It is my servant and my lever.” “And what god do you serve, then?” “Whichever will grant me good fortune.”

“What’s the difference wagering at the Crow Club and speculating on the floor of the Exchange?” “One is theft and the other is commerce.” “When a man loses his money, he may have trouble telling them apart.”

“You’re a blackmailer—“. “I broker information.” “A con artist—“. “I create opportunity.” “A bawd and a murderer—“. “I don’t run whores, and I kill for a cause.”

“You see, every man is a safe, a vault of secrets and longings. Now, there are those that take the brute’s way, but I prefer a gentler approach—the right pressure applied at the right moment, in the right place. It’s a delicate thing.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.” “Each more grotesque than the last.” Brekker’s hands were stained with blood. Brekker’s hands were covered in scars. Brekker had claws and not fingers because he was part demon. Brekker’s touch burned like brimstone—a single brush of bare skin caused your flesh to whither and die. “Pick one. They’re all true enough.”

Kaz was not a giddy boy smiling and making plans for a future with her. He was a dangerous player who was always working an angle.

“Please, my darling Inej, treasure of my heart, won’t you do me the honor of acquiring me a new hat?”

Brick by brick. It was a promise that let him sleep at night, the drove him everyday, that kept Jordie’s ghost at bay.

Kaz’s servant, greed, luring them South like a piper with a flute in hand.

“Being angry at Kaz for being ruthless is like being angry at a stove for being hot. You know what he is.”

“I wouldn’t trust you to tie my shoes without stealing the laces.”

Matthias knew monsters, and one glance at Kaz had told him this was a creature who had spent too long in the dark—he’d brought something back with him when he’d crawled into the light.

“The easiest way to steal a man’s wallet is to tell him you’re going to steal his watch. You take his attention and direct it where you want it to go.”

“You can’t spend his money if you’re dead.” “I’ll acquire expensive habits in the afterlife.”

“I don’t want to die.” “I’ll do my best to make other arrangements for you.”

“You came back for me.” “I protect my investments.” Investments. “I’m glad I’m bleeding all over your shirt.”

Matthias suspected that Brekker would drag the girl back from hell himself if he had to.

He’d gifted her her first blade, the one she called Sankt Petyr—not as pretty as wild geraniums, but more practical.

“Kaz told me...he said it was my choice, that he wouldn’t be the one to mark me again.”

Because I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to your for two days.

He needed to know she believed in him.

“What to do you want, then?” The old answers came easily to mind. Money. Vengeance. Jordie’s voice in my head silenced forever. But a different reply roared to life inside him, loud, insistent, and unwelcome. You, Inej. You.

Kaz would always remember that moment, when he’d seen greed take hold of his brother, an invisible hand guiding him forward, the lever at work.

There could be no judgement from a boy known as Dirtyhands.

“Let’s say the mark is a tourist walking through the barrel. He’s heard it’s a good place to get rolled, so he keeps patting his wallet, making sure it’s there, congratulating himself on just how alert and cautious he’s being. No fool he. Of course every time he pats his back pocket or front of his coat, what’s he doing? He’s telling every thief on the Stave exactly where he keeps his scrub.”

It was because she was listening so closely that she knew the exact moment when Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the bastard of the barrel and the deadliest boy in Ketterdam, fainted.

He’d heard there were sharks in these waters but they wouldn’t touch him. He was a monster now, too.

He’d imagined his death a thousand ways, but never sleeping through it.

It was as if once Kaz had seen her, he’d understood how to keep seeing her.

“If it were a trick, I’d promise you safety. I’d offer you happiness. I don’t know if that exists in the barrel, but you’ll find none of it with me.” Better terrible truths than kind lies.

He knew he was being reckless, selfish, but wasn’t that why they called him Dirtyhands? No job too risky. No deed too low. Dirtyhands would see the rough work done.

A good magician wasn’t much different than a proper thief.

She could see it took every last bit of his terrible will to remain still beneath her touch. And yet, he did not pull away. She knew it was the best he could offer. It was not enough.

“Some people see a magic trick and say, ‘Impossible!’ They clap their hands, turn over their money, and forget about it ten minutes later. Other people ask how it worked. They go home, get into bed, toss and turn, wondering how it was done. It takes them a good nights sleep to forget all about it. And then there are the ones who stay awake, running through the trick again and again, looking for the skip in perception, the crack in the illusion that will explain how their eyes got duped; they’re the kind who won’t rest until they’ve mastered that little bit of mystery for themselves. I’m that kind”

“You love trickery.” “I love puzzles. Trickery is just my native tongue.”

“Do you know the secret to gambling, Helvar? Cheat.”

There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not been healed wrong. There was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.

Her eyes were shut, her oil-black lashes fanned over her cheeks. The harbor wind had lifted her dark hair, and for a moment Kaz was a boy again, sure that there was magic in the world. She’d laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and gotten drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him.

You’ve cheated death too many times. Greed may do your bidding, but death serves no man.

He needed to tell her...what? That she was lovely and brave and better than anything he deserved. That he was twisted, crooked, wrong, but not so broken that he couldn’t pull himself together into some semblance of a man for her.

“Saints, Kaz, you actually look happy.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped. But there was no mistaking it. Kaz Brekker was grinning like an idiot.

“I can hear the change in Kaz’s breathing whenever he looks at you.” “You...you can?” “It catches every time, like he’s never seen you before.”

“How will you have me? Fully clothed, gloves on, your head turned away so our lips can never touch? I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.”

“I’m not big on bluffing, am I, Inej?” “Not as a rule.” “And why is that?” “Because he’d rather cheat.”

Inej wanted Kaz to become someone else, a better person, a gentler thief. But that boy had no place here. That boy ended up starving in an alley. He ended up dead. That boy couldn’t get her back. I’m going to get my money, and I’m going to get my girl.

“A proper thief is like a proper poison. He leaves no trace.”

There were no good men in Ketterdam, Kaz said. The climate didn’t agree with them.

“If you don’t care about money, Nina dear, call it by it’s other names.” “Kruge? Scrub? Kaz’s one true love?” “Freedom, security, retribution.”

“It’s pragmatic. If I were cruel, I’d give him a eulogy instead of a conversation.”

“You haven’t been alive long enough to rack up your share of sin.” “I’m a quick study.”

Patience, he reminded himself. He’d practiced it early and often. Patience would bring all his enemies to their knees in time.

“You’ve got the devil’s own blood in you, boy.”

Kaz was going to have to find a new language of suffering to teach that smug merch son of a bitch.

“I would come for you. And if I couldn’t walk, I’d crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our way out together—knives drawn, pistols blazing. Because that’s what we do. We never stop fighting.”

“My mother is Ketterdam. She birthed me in the harbor. My father is profit. I honor him daily.”

Desperate for some sign that he might open himself to her, that they could be more than two creatures united by their distrust of the world.

They could continue on with their armor intact. She would have her ship and he would have his city.

Sure, a lock was like a woman. It was also like a man and anyone or anything else—if you wanted to understand it, you had to take it apart and see how it worked. If you wanted to master it, you had to learn it so well you could put it back together.

He always liked returning to a home or business he’d had cause to visit before. It wasn’t just the familiarity. It was as if by returning, he laid claim to a place. We know each other’s secrets, the house seemed to say. Welcome back.

“When people see a cripple walking down the street, leaning on his cane, what do they feel? They feel pity. Now, what do they think when they see me coming?” “They think they’d better cross the street.”

“We can endure a lot of pain. It’s shame that eats men whole.”

“I don’t hold a grudge. I cradle it. I coddle it. I feed it fine cuts of meat and send it to the best schools. I nurture my grudges, Rollins.”

It was as if Kaz had a secret map of Ketterdam that showed the city’s forgotten spaces.

“I’ve taken knives, bullets, and too many punches to count, all for a little piece of this town. This is the city I bled for. And if Ketterdam has taught me anything, it’s that you can always bleed a little more.”

Was Johannus Rietveld meant to be his Jakob Hertzoon? Or had it been some way of resurrecting the family he’d lost? Did it even matter?

“I wreak all the havoc I can until my luck runs out, use our haul to build an empire.” “And after that?” “Who knows? Maybe I’ll burn it to the ground.”

Tell her to get out, a voice inside him demanded. Beg her to stay.

Kaz thought he knew the language of pain intimately, but this ache was new. It hurt to stand here like this, so close to the circle of her arms.

“These things don’t wash away with prayer, Wraith. There is no peace waiting for me, no forgiveness, not in this life, not in the next.”

Two of the deadliest people the barrel had to offer and they could barely touch each other without both keeling over.

A black glass boy of deadly edges.

A bit of entertainment, the dramatic end of Kaz Brekker, the humbling of Dirtyhands. But this was no cheap comedy. It was a bloody rite, and Per Haskell had let the congregation gather, never realizing the real performance had yet to begin. Kaz stood upon his pulpit, wounded, bruised, and ready to preach.

“You have two minutes to get out of my house, old man. This city’s price is blood, and I’m happy to pay with yours.”

“What is wrong with him,” Nina grumbled. “Same thing that’s always wrong with him. He’s Kaz Brekker.”

“Rich men want to believe they deserve every penny they’ve got, so they forget what they owe to chance. Smart men are always looking for loopholes. They want an opportunity to game the system. The toughest mark is an honest man. Thankfully, they’re always in short supply.”

“Well, Brekker, it’s obvious you only deal in half truths and outright lies, so you’re clearly the man for the job.”

“What do you think my forgiveness looks like, Jordie?” “Who’s Jordie?” “Someone I trusted. Someone I didn’t want to lose.”

He put his gloves back on and didn’t take them off. He became twice as ruthless, fought twice as hard. He stopped worrying about seeming normal, let people see a glimmer of the madness within him and let them guess at the rest.

The rage inside him burned on and he learned to despise people who complained, who begged, who claimed they’d suffered. Let me teach you what pain looks like, he would say, and then he’d paint a picture with his fists.

That was what destroyed you in the end: the longing for something you could never have.

“I will kill you, Brekker. I will kill everything you love.” “The trick is not to love anything.”

“Suffering is like anything else. Live with it long enough, you learn to like the taste.”

She smiled then, her eyes red, her cheeks scattered with some kind of dust. It’s a smile he thought he might die to earn again.

“He doesn’t say goodbye. He just lets go.”

“Ketterdam is made of monsters. I just happen to have the longest teeth.”

#soc #kaz brekker #quotes

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glitterytidalwavedragon · 4 years ago

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Seto Kaiba Headcannon – Domestic Habits

So I am sure some of you noticed that in my fanfiction I give Kaiba some strong domestic habits. As someone who grew up with an absent parent, my life was colorful, I remembered cooking and cleaning at around age 5. Yeah, I was five when I was standing on a chair and making myself breakfast.

This got me thinking. Seto’s relatives were probably horrible, while not completely in the beginning but still enough he would be standoffish to them and they probably gave him minimal care. Then there was the fact his mom had passed. This would leave a 5-year-old Seto with a single dad that is more than likely overworked and tired as he has to care for a newborn and a five-year-old who was in the middle of his first year of school. Seto was a smart kid from the beginning (and in the anime of both English and Japanese he beat Gozo at chess rather than cheated). Out little Seto must have seen his father struggle and used his big brain thinking to figure out ways to help.

So picture this –

Seto is coming home from school, its now fall and the weather couldn’t be better. Living close by to the building of education and being bright for his age, he was entrusted to walk home on his own since he started. He was so proud of himself when he was given a key when he had proved how responsible he was for his age. He always had the double the number of coins for a payphone and knew his father’s beeper number by heart. Seto very much enjoyed being a mini-adult.

Going inside the gate of his home, he sees his father’s car. Excited to see his father, Seto rushes inside. He is about to yell out for the parental unit until he seems him, hand on the rocker, both baby brother and father fast asleep. Seto is unsure what to do. Looking at the time, he sees dinner should at least be in the oven and it looks like the nanny is no where insight nor any of his overbearing relatives. Biting his lower lip as he bounces in place, he tried to decide if he should wake his clearly exhausted dad. The kid knows how much the man worked both at home and in the office. Turning his gaze to his keys, he slowly glares.

Seto was trusted with the key to the house. Mom use to call him her ‘little man’ and he did help her around the kitchen. He knew where everything was. If they, and still his father, could trust him to not lose the key to the most important place in the world, he could use the kitchen. Putting down his bag he quietly goes to the kitchen. Remembering where his mother kept the cook books, he decides since its his first time, he would make something easy. Belgium Waffles with a berry sauce. Quietly he takes out the waffle maker, pot and a few bowls.

Following the recipe closely, he cooks with determination and vigor. Keeping to the lessons his mother taught him, he also cleans as he cooks. Once both waffles and berry sauce were done, he realized he forgot something. Vegetables. Clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth as he thinks, he wonders which would be the easiest. Having avoided using any of the large knives and planning to keep it that way, he takes out the carrots, washes, uses the peeler to peel them down, and stick them in the oven. Large knives completely avoided. Waffles, berries, a vegetable. Clapping he realizes he is missing a protein. While the carrots are cooking, he makes eggs. Plating is the last thing he does. Setting down all three plates on the dinner table, he is excited to wake his father.

Then he realizes what he did. Three plates and the overwhelming feeling of wanting to show his mother he can cook. Seto, who was asked to be strong by his mother before her passing, told by his father how proud he was that he handled it like a grown up. No longer could be a grownup in that moment. Tears that were missing months back finally broke through the dam him built. His crying wakes his father. Seto apologizes again and again about crying, saying he would try harder not too. The man before him is just stunned. There is a cooked meal, the baby is still asleep and his son not only cooked but cleaned the whole kitchen. His father also took note of the three dinner plates.

Kneeling down, he embraces the small Seto. Rubbing his back, he reassures the boy how proud of a father he is to have such a mature son and that he did nothing wrong. Seto takes this to heart, he did well by helping, his father looked somewhat happy that he helped. Wanting to see his father smile again and not suffer from exhaustion, Seto takes over many of the chores around the house, to the point on days when the nanny is over, Seto is supervising her. She doesn’t care for this, but Seto wants things perfect for his father.

Years go by, and his father also passes. At first, Seto gave his extended family a shot. Then he saw how greedy and useless they really were. Once more he zeroed in on his domestic skills of cleaning and cooking to make sure his brother was in fine health. When shipped to the orphanage, Seto became a favorite among staff quickly, when he wasn’t getting into fights, as he was both the cleanest and most helpful child. Seto only helped as he wanted the best for the most important person in the world to him.

As he got older, Seto realizes he likes things arranged and cleaned to his standard. At the Kaiba manor, he begins cleaning and moving objects after the maids leave. No one is allowed to touch his things at some point as they don’t do a good enough job. Many mistake this for him being a cleaning sob, but the young Kaiba just knows what he wants and how he wants it. Older, it is not unusual for the younger to find his elder brother cleaning around his office, or making himself a small meal every now and then. Kaiba has just picked up this habit and while it isn’t often, it isn’t a shock to the household that knows him.

From his father’s keeping then being a big brother to finally being a father figure himself. Kaiba has always been proud of keeping his promise to always watch over Mokuba. Even if he forgot what his parents looked like or his old name, that child in him still knows he is making them proud.

That is my head cannon on how domestic Seto Kaiba started. I hope you all enjoyed!

#Yu-Gi-Oh!#Yu-Gi-Oh #yugioh #yugioh head cannon #yugioh headcanons #HEADCANNON #head cannon #seto kaiba #seto #Kaiba Seto #kaiba #Kaiba Brothers #yugioh fanfiction #seto kaiba head cannon #domestic seto kaiba #domestic #slice of life #fanfiction #Kaiba Week!

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kiaraspeaks · 4 years ago

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Anansi x Female!Reader: In a flash we'll meet again.

You hope that he understands one day, his father is a complicated man. Man? That's a stretch of the imagination right there. You loved Anansi, loved him more than anything and anyone else in the world, besides Charlie, but, you couldn't stay with him. Children only are able to see what you put in front of them, and Anansi painted just enough of a vision of himself to hide his world from your child. Children. What a fucking mess that is. There are days that you wished that you hadn't met him but that's a pointless line of thought, Anansi desired you, to know you, to have Charlie, long before any war. He may have driven you up a wall at one point but he was family, and you knew that despite any differences when you called he would always come.

After all that's how you met, you weren't trying to summon a God. But praying for somebody, anybody, to stop this man chatting you up in the bar. You came for a quick drink at Randy's Divebar, Anansi materialized nearby (or perhaps he was waiting in the wings the whole time, just waiting, as he had done your entire life) what might be a hideous green and yellow floral pattern worked for him, long lean lines that might make someone else seem imposing made him even more inviting despite the man yammering on and on about himself.

"Bothering you?" He said, he inhaled on the cigarette and blew smoke into the face of the man hassling you. Whichever meathead that was hassling you didn't take kindly to it, but Anansi didn't care, had never cared, didn't care that he was thinner and obviously more breakable. He out maneuvered everyone before ever setting foot in any room, that included you too. "Move."

"Or what?" They said, he'd been hunched over you for the better part of the night but he was standing up rod straight and cutting an imposing figure. First, Anansi smiled, something you learned much later masks more pain and irritation than any human body could tolerate. Next, he picked up his glass and drained it and turned it over in his hands a few times. You heard it, the sound of the glass shattering, the crunching of the bones in his face, and finally saw the mess of the meathead's face. They ran out screaming, bleeding and crying. You should've been positively frightened but you weren't. Not even as Anansi plucked glass out of hands and tossed it into the drink of the man who had annoyed you.

"That wasn't necessary." You said and nursed your drink. The bartender didn't say anything, clearly they had some type of understanding. They moved further down to tend to other customers.

"Maybe so," He said, the cigarette perched perfectly in the corner of his mouth. He pulled out the splintered shards of glass like it didn't hurt, the blood didn't bother him. He raised his bloody hand and signaled for two drinks. "But it was fun."

"For you."

"Well maybe I'll have to work harder to impress you next time." He said.

"What makes you think there will be a next time, and why would you try?" You said, he smirked, didn't smile. His smirks were harmless, adorable, thoughtful. It's dangerous to know a God so closely. You would call it fate, but Anansi hated such words. After all he thought the only stories that were written in stone were penned by him.

"You're Mr. Nancy's girl, why not try?"

"And who is Mr. Nancy?" You asked, two drinks are placed between you both and then a small container of gauze. Anansi grabbed the gauze and one of the drinks, he poured the liquor over his wounded hand and allowed it to drip perfectly into the glass with the bloody shards. He doesn't wince, sigh or suck in deep breaths of air as the booze washes over his wounds.

"Someone important, snappy dresser, charming, and I hear that he might even be single."

"If I'm his girl how is he single?" You asked,he wrapped his hand with an ease that told he got into these types of scuffles often. Again, you learn Anansi doesn't take on any war that isn't already won, that includes your heart.

"Well that sounds like a proposal if I ever heard one." He said.

"You're Mr. Nancy?"

"My friends call me Mr. Nancy, but you, you can call me whatever you want."

"What's your name?" You asked. Another charming smirk, no madness in the eyes, he tapped the growing mountain of ash into the glass with the shards and the blood and tainted alcohol, he killed the light on the cigarette and topped .

"Have dinner with me and I will tell you." He said.

"You don't even know me, Mr. Nancy."

"Well, I want to get to know you, otherwise we wouldn't still be having this conversation." He said, "Do you want to get to know me?"

"I think so." You said, he held out his undamaged hand to you and you shook it.

"My name is Anansi, and it's wonderful to finally meet you." He said and bowed his head and kissed your hand, and when he asks your name you tell him. You don't know it then but you love him, someone so in love with who you are, starting with your name and every other story that you're apart of. You expected dinner much later, perhaps in a couple days but it didn't take much prodding to get you out. Randy's food at the divebar wasn't very good and you didn't feel like fiddling with the oven tonight.

----

You wished that you could properly explain to your son that his father was a God and that made him half and if he chose have kids that would make them a fraction and yet with all the potential of full Gods. There just never is enough time and never a correct way. Even you struggle at times, Anansi appears to just be a man, impeccably dressed, always on time, and two steps ahead at any given time. You had time to walk away, if anyone could imagine doing such a thing, but you knew something was diffferent, something was wrong. Anansi warned you that he got mixed up with some bad people, that bad times might be coming eventually, gave you time to leave, time to ask questions. Maybe you didn't want to know, perhaps you thought you already knew, you suspected he was a criminal but never a God.

Sometimes he's in two places at once, some times things fall to the floor, teleport across the room, but there are times when he is so far removed from you, nothing can bring him back from that place. You were tired of being ignored, once upon a time being Nancy's girl meant something but now it meant going to bed alone and waking up alone, sometimes with Anansi having not moved from his spot in a chair at all. You came in, surprised he wasn't in a haze, he seemed to be waiting on you.

"You're late." He said. An observation and an accusation. You weren't cheating on him, you could, there were so many who wanted you and yet here you were...alone in your own relationship. The perks of being Nancy's girl.

"So." You said, he went days at a time in the same household and yet not saying a word. How dare he get up for going one night without seeing you. You'd met up with co-worker, Higgler, went out for drinks. No harm in that.

"I waited."

"I didn't ask you to do that."

"I must be confused," He said and stood up and walked into the the kitchen and came to stand beside you. "Is something wrong?"

"No, you tell me, Anansi."

"Are you drunk?" He asked, yes, you were but that wasn't why this was happening. This conversation was begging to be had for a while now.

"Does it matter? Would you even care?"

"I care. Of course I care." He said, then said your name softly and pulled you into his arms. You stay still for a moment but it's hard to resist him, always has been since the moment you met him.

"Why won't you just talk to me?" You asked softly into his chest.

"Would you believe me if I told you?"

"You've never struggled with being convincing before." You said and looked up at him. Then he smiled at you, looked through you and then pulled away.

"Take a seat."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm about to tell you who I am and you should probably sit down." He said, so you do and he does tell you. Your head doesn't split open and you don't die but initially you think he's lying. He can't be a God! He just can't be! It's your human nature to emphatically deny what you don't understand.

It takes more than him politely explaining who and what he was. He sighed heavily and walked away from you. He stood in the center of the kitchen and raised one hand and touched the ceiling and flattened it, then his other hand and used his weight to pivot and climb the ceiling. If that wasn't enough, his forehead was lined with eyes and large fangs extended from his mouth. A birth defect? A disability, possibly. He can see this is a lot and came to sit at his feet.

“This can be a lot for most people.” He said.

“I’m not most people.” You said.

“I know, that’s why I chose you.” You looked down at him and took the cigarette from his hand and he lit it for you.

“What type of God are you?” You ask after a long while, you go through two more cigarettes before you feel steady enough.

“Jack of all trades.” He said. “The people need to be safe and laugh.”

“You make them all laugh?”

“I can change the story but not completely remove it, important parts have to stick. Humans are sticky and linked to one another, I can only ease the journey.” He said. “Wisdom in the form of entertainment has been easiest, you know it’s hard to tell a stupid motherfucker they’re doing something wrong.”

“Are you apart of my story?”

‘Do you want me to be?” He asked, you stand up and he doesn’t look away. Perhaps, reflecting during these final moments you see what it is. Blind faith. He believed in you. Despite him hating fate, kismet, whatever you wanted to call it, he always knew you’d choose him. Like a good book, you’d always return, even if there was an entire ocean separating you. If you couldn’t then he’d come to you. He couldn’t unmake himself a God, much like your boy won’t be able to burn away that part that calls out and sings so sweetly. You held out your hands to him and he took them.

“How long can you stick to the roof?”

“It’s not a party trick.” He said and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and spinning around with you. When he placed you back down you were standing in the bedroom.

“Says who, spiderman?” You asked and you both laugh. It’s a period of adjustment like nearly everything in your life.

----

You ultmately wish for your boy to understand that everything has a sunrise and sunset. You loved Anansi inspite of every red flag you ever saw crop up, and there came a time where loving and being in love wasn't enough. He was your husband, your best friend and beacuse of that you came to a proper agreement. A moment would come when this world and this war was too dangerous. Your boy, charlie, loathed his father because they were too much alike, both parading around in facades, both busybodies in the worst ways, both too damned pigheaded to say what was on their mind truly at times.

"So you're going to leave?" He asked, it was one of the dumbest thing you'd heard him say. You were finally debased to obvious observations, he was always so well spoken and right now he was holding up a wall watching you in your living room. You'd moved from Chicago to Florida, created a life for one another, brought a child into the world, spoke truth into the world only to watch it crumble away partly due to an invisible war you never saw and the fact Anansi spent more times chasing stories than keeping you happy. Those stories always came in many faces, younger, healthier, livelier people who seemed so different from you.

"Bags are packed. This is where we should leave things."

"You're being very cordial about this."

"And you're smiling, are you happy about this too?" You said and pointed out, he ran his tongue over his teeth and tried to remove the smile but failed. He was angry, but so were you for so many reasons you'd never share. If he loved stories so much he could keep up with them without embarassing his son every forty five minutes and neglecting his wife, he'd always be a God and you'd always be a human who might have bit off more than she could chew. Charlie was a God too, no matter how shy and withdrawn he'd became.

"I know what you're thinking." He said and slid his hands into his pcokets.

"I assure you don't." You said, "Maybe in another time but I can't--"

"Can't what?"

"Can't play second fiddle forever to whatever story you're chasing." You said, "Not for you or for any man."

"Maybe not a man, but a God?" He asked. He pushed off the wall and walked over to you. After years together charm wears off, the butterflies die but familiarity never changes. Falling into step has become second nature, you are so far from the young woman impressed by the cool headed man with brute strength who won every battle before he ever picked an arena. "I know you think you're making the right choice."

"And what do you think?" You asked, "And I want you to really tell me, no cheating, no looking into the future."

"I think that no matter where you go, all you have to do is call and I'll come."

"You'll have three more people moved in before the end of the week." You said, you need to say it so that you know this is really over.

"Doesn't make it any less true." He said and you hold out your hand to him.

"When I'm gone, promise you'll be here for him, he'll need you." You said, he took your hand and dropped down onto one knee and kissed the back of it.

"I'll do my best."

"That's all I can ask for." You said and placed your hand on the top of his head and then pulled away and lifted up your last bag and started towards the door. "If I ever call...it will be to say goodbye."

"So this isn't goodbye." He said and teleported beside the door.

"No, this is just farewell for now." You said and walked out. You don't look back, you don't need to, you don't know exactly what binds him here but hopes he finds something to free himself.

----

You hope one day he understands that his father is not a man and will never behave like one. He doesn't have to, he's not even bound to this planet let alone it's rules, but you hope one day that Fat Charlie realizes he is so much more than just a man and to live the life he really wants to. You can feel when the life starts to leave you and you want all your affairs in order. You move across the country and then out of the country and Charlie followed. He grew bitter and irritated with his father seeing his flambouyant and exuberant personality as a flaw instead of something to carve out in himself. You don't expect cancer to take you, but you've lived a full life and hope Charlie does the same.

You don't expect Anansi to actually show, you don't expect the band, or the kiss that would knock you off your feet if you weren't already in bed plugged up to machines. The nurses enjoy the change in pace and so does Christine, your roommate. Anansi is lively and brings a bottle to celebrate your new change in life, or so he calls it that.

"I'm sick." You said, "I'm dying."

"You're all dying, but it's not a bad thing, and I'm right here, like I promised."

"Still a man of your word down to the parade." You said, you thought the times you got drunk and waxed poetic he hadn't paid attention. You were glad some things hadn't slipped through the cracks. "Talk to Charlie?"

"No, no, you know how he is. Always on about something."

"He's your son and when I'm gone he's all the family you got left."

"You consider yourself family?"

"You wouldn't cross an ocean for no reason." You said. He slid his chair closer, placing his hand over yours.

"You look good." He said, he's older now, or that's what he wants you to think. A little sag here, a bit more hunched over. You've watched him shift his entire body to fit his agenda, this is no different.

"I'm old and bald, Mr. Nancy." You said,

"Call me Anansi."

"Or whatever I want, right?"

"Right." He said and laughed. "But you look good regardless of what you've got. If you could do anything, what would you do?"

"Besides live?"

"Yes, besides that." He said and held your hand in his. His hands have grown harder, rougher. Less story telling, more fighting, much more hard work than he ever should've been used to.

"I want to travel, really see the world, you know I always talk about it but things got in the way, and then Charlie came and I couldn't just take off."

"Yeah, I think I'd lead that boy to an early grave." He said and you both laugh together. A hearty laugh that you didn't know you needed. "Well let me get some things in order first and you'll have it."

"Look, Anansi--"

"You're Nancy's girl, right? You'll have what you need." He said, and you believe him. A spinner of tales he might be but never a liar, at least when it came to you. "Say it."

"I'm too old for this shit."

"No, I'm too old for this. You're exactly where you're supposed to be." He said and you smile, it's been so long since you've done that, you've done more smiling now than you have in the last couple of years. "Say it."

"Say what?"

"You're Nancy's girl."

"I'm your girl." You said and smile again, you mean it, after all these damn years away from him, only an hour together and you've fell back into patterns.

"Kiss on it?" He asked, ever the slick and sly trickster. It has been many years since you've kissed him, it's not just flesh to flesh, he can pour something into you that you didn't know you needed.

"If that's why you came then sure."

"No not the only reason but you know you got what'll make a man sell his soul to the devil and cross the sea." He said, he stood up and leaned over you, not making you work too hard. He leaned on the button helping you lean back and pressed his lips to yours, tilting your head up. You feel it, a tingle, something that starts to brighten and jump to life inside you. You are not a spring chicken anymore, but he makes parts of you spring to life as if you were in the first bloom of your life. "Damn, girl."

"What are you on about?" You asked.

"Nothing, you called, I came, like I told you I would. I've got to get back before anyone knows I'm missing."

"Don't forget to say goodbye to your son."

"Oh, I won't." He said and raised your hand up one final time and kissed the back of it. You watch him go and know you'll see him again but you won't be among the living, this is your last time. You are unsurprised when your tests come back negative and you're discharged. The cancer is gone, dead within seconds, and when you return home you find plane tickets waiting on your counter. Anansi is more than a man and that's okay, you hope Fat Charlie sees that.

-----

You are dead. You know that. You hope Charlie can learn to forgive his father for being so boisterous, larger than life and embarassing, but he is his father's child and it is hard for them to see eye to eye on any damn thing. You rise from the hotel bed and walk over to the balcony and you wait for him because you know he's going to come, or you're going to find him. The land of the dead is silent, there are others, you can see them walking about, playing in the park, running with their dogs, kissing and holding hands, going on strolls. For a moment you think you won't see him, you leave, no need to gather your things, you won't need them.

Anansi once told you about the after life, about what may or may not await you depending on which road you walked. You knew he said he'd never be far behind and you believe that, you believe in him. You step out of the hotel, turn right and walk, going purely on intuition, the hotels and beach towns wash away, through the forests you continue, climb the necessary hills. As you come upon a different world you note your knees don't hurt, your feet don't ache and neither does your back. At the top of a hill is a cave, you pass through the mouth of it and felt something shake and shimmer over you as you enter the room.

It is a large single room, a grate pit in the center of the room surrounded by cushions. There are portraits on the orange walls and shadows dance about the room, you're sure exactly from where. He is laying back on the cushions, his head is pillowed on his arm and staring up at you. He is different, more himself, his true self. His hair is longer, and he has many eyes that line his forehead, and many arms that line his torso. He has a book hand, is weaving with another and waving from a completely different hand.

"You found me." He said.

"For now, I don't think I can stay here, can I?" You asked.

"Not the end of your journey, I'm afraid. Soul like yours comes around once in every few flashes."

"Flashes?"

"It's complicated. You'll learn. All afterlifes are the same in one way or another."

"How much time do we?"

"Oh, as much as you want." He said and dug between the cushions and held a bag of sand. "Sand of times, snatched it off some kid on the way home. Felt like we'd need some time together."

"For what?"

"Whatever you want."

"And Charlie?"

"He'll be fine, smart kid with a good head on his shoulders." He said, he pushed himself up and kept tossing the bag up in the air.

"Tell me what you did when I left." She said.

"Now that is a story..." He said, you walked over to him and the things he semed to be doing to keep himself busy disappeared. He welcomed you with open arms, when you wrap your arms around him the room changes with a snap. You are back in the bar you met in, you pull away and look up. Yes. This is Randy's. Same dumpy dive bar where he inserted himself in your life and you let him. He walked away and over to the bar and picked up the glass of bloodied glass shards, tainted alcohol and ash from his cigarette.

"WHat's is this about?" You asked. He picked up the second glass and poured it into the concoction.

"Drink it."

"You think I'm crazy?"

"You trust me, right?" He said and held it out to you, "Besides, you're already dead."

"There's so much worse you can do."

"Says who?"

"Says whoever you snatched that sand from." You said.

"Touche." He said, but you drink it anyway. A drink. A potion. Whatever it is it makes your head spin, you feel whatever entity you are shift and turn inside out and the sound from Randys came back but it was different. Not a dusty dive bar but the scent of it is still the same and so is the chipped bar. You and Anansi stood at the back of the crowded bar, someone at the front was tearing it up on a saxophone.

"I made arrangements." Anansi said.

"For?"

"Our boy." He said, and yes, why it is Charlie but he's different. Alive in a way you could never put your finger on as his mother. But you see it, at his core, what makes him a God and a man and they're not at war with one another.

"True to your word, why does that make me feel like we're coming to the end of our journey?"

"We'll meet again, a soul like yours, shines too bright." He said. You nod your head in agreement, you sip the drink again and feel yourself start to break and shift. Charlie climbs down from the makeshift stage and tries to part the crowd, but you are dust in the wind.

Blood.

Glass.

Liquor.

Ash.

----

You are flesh, bone and free will, but you do not have direction. Perhaps that's why you hover here at Mausoleum of the fallen. The entities that are sculpted here are beautiful some made of marble, others onyx, you walk by and sense that you are not alone. You know you are a flash, a shift in the cosmic energy and a rarity, you will continue to hide amongst of the morals, walk between the worlds of Gods and mortals....and then there they are far in the back of the Mausoleum.

"What are you?" You asked.

"Choice." They said, the God walked out, impeccably dressed, "Always on time, I see."

"I don't understand."

"You will."

"Gods have never come to meet me before."

"This is different and I'm not just any God," He said.

"How many flashes have we suffered one another?" You asked, you're not sure but instinct in not something you need to find. This multi-eyed creatures stares at you with fondness.

"Seventeen."

"That is not chance, that is planned." You said.

"Yes."

"Why is this different?" You asked, They held up a tumbler of alcohol with ash and glass shards floating in it. You look away back to the statues, there are handfuls of Gods that are necessary, some haven't been seen in eons, they play it fast and loose and are wild cards. You wonder which one he'll be.

"Just is." He said, you have no reason not to trust him despite being gifted with these instincts. You reach for the tumbler but he pulled it back away from you. "The past couple times I meddled but now you have a chance, a real chance."

"You don't think I'll choose you." You said and tilted your head to the side to study them. "Even though you chose me all these cycles."

"The last cycle was different, you walked away, for good, only called when you were about to die."

"And so you wanted to know that now I'd choose you."

"Yes."

"Fascinating."

"How so?" He sked.

"Even Gods, in all your wisdom and knowledge, have your insecurities."

"We invented them, mortals just inherit them."

"Now what will we do afterward?" You asked, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag full of sand.

"We have time to figure that out." He said and this time when you reach for the glass he allows you to take it. You drink it down down, swallowing the glass and ash and tainted alcohol, with each swallow you remember a different life, a different flash, eons of you doing this dance with him, each time you're different, the circumstances are different but the last time is by far the most daunting. Charlie. Oh, how many years has it been? Did your baby boy live well? "How do you feel?"

"Cold." You said and looked down and noticed you were naked. "I bet you think this is funny."

"Only in a cosmic way."

"Is Charlie--"

"He's fine, he's fine. Two wives, three kids, a bar. Living the dream." He said and shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over your shoulder. "We have time to catch up on him later, I've missed you."

"What do you want to do?"

"Lets go to a club, I need to stretch my legs."

"Which ones?" You said and then scoffed as you followed him out of the afterlife. You weren't sure where you were going but you trusted him enough, had trusted him after thousands of rebirths, what was so different this time? For so long you two had been together, maybe now you could stay together without the cruel hand of fate intervening. As you reached the portal you thought of one last thing. "Whatever happened to that war?"

"Oh. I ate the people that were pissing me off.. " He said.

"You're kidding."

"Only a little." He said. "No worries, no war this time, just you and me."

"The way it's supposed to be."

"The way it's always been."

#Mr. Nancy #Anansi #Anansi x Reader #Mr. Nancy x Reader #ag fic #ag

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