Explore the world, one post at a time
Too True - Blog Posts
Sometimes I open Ao3 as one would a fridge in the middle of the night. Hungry, but not willing to commit to anything that is in there and hopping a miracle will make something new and appetising appear out of thin air if only I close it and open again.
Listen, I'm not making excuses for Anthony's behaviour in Season 1. But imagine trying to run a household, and one day you come home to all this.
Rat: If it involves cutting back on the good ol' Winstons, I'm burning this place to the ground.
By “relaxing with a book” I actually mean that I’ll be crying and sweating and having heart palpitations and basically just stressing the fuck out but y’know details
It just kills me when writers create franchises where like 95% of the speaking roles are male, then get morally offended that all of the popular ships are gay. It’s like, what did they expect?
The most accurate description I've ever seen
I don’t know if anyone has ever done this before but, here ya go… The Different Types of Fanfiction!
I probably left a few out, but these are the most common, compared to their base fiction’s canon plot. Enjoy! XD
YALL BASED ON THIS VIDEO HERE IM SCREAMING-
-
It’s been hours since you’ve smiled at Rintaro.
Not since this morning when you left. He was home today, all day, left to watch your three year old, and be home to see your nine year old. You’d kissed the side of his nose, reminded him of some chores, and everything was fine for you to go out and do your own set of errands.
But to come home to a trash bag sitting outside of the door and not in the barrel that got emptied today?
Oh. Screw smiling.
There may have been a small argument that broke out once you told him, about how he assumed you’d take the trash out since you were leaving the house- of which you snapped that it’s not your responsibility to automatically take out the trash when you leave.
Your son, Akito, was only left to watch the chaos, setting up the console he and his father were about to play on.
“I forgot, okay!” He snaps, rolling his eyes. “I’ll take it out later, it’s fine!”
“It’s not fine!” You yell back. “The trash was already taken! It’s worthless at this point to do it!”
He looks like he’s about to say something back, but you see him bite his tongue. “Good choice,” you snarl. Leaving him and Akito, you make your way upstairs and into your bedroom where you get changed into something that doesn’t emit outside-world feeling. You take a quick shower, wash your face, and when you step out still angry, you’re quick to make a new game plan.
Once you’re done with your small dose of self care, you stomp into the kitchen for something to eat, hoping that it’ll help curb any further anger coming from you both.
Crackers and cheese, some little slices of fruit which you intend to pair with they jelly you got on your last visit to the city.
You grab the jar and with a deep, frustrated exhale, you grip the cover and try to twist.
When it doesn’t budge, you feel your eye twitch.
You try again, to no avail. You grab the nearest towel in an attempt to get a better grip. No dice.
You sigh, tossing the rag to the side before stalking your way into the living room, grimace etched on your face.
“Can you open this?” You ask, and just as Rintaro pauses the game and tosses his controller aside to reach for the jar, you slip right past him and pass it to Akito, who takes it in his hands to pop open the lid.
With a small grunt he manages to open the lid, passing you the jar with a small smile, “here, ma.”
“Thank you, handsome man,” you hum, blowing him a kiss and blowing a raspberry at Rintaro when you make your way back to the kitchen. There’s a pause of silence, a question you don’t quite catch from your son, and suddenly, you hear your husband jump up from the couch. You smirk. It doesn’t take long before feet quickly pound their way into the kitchen, and a disgruntled Rintaro stands, pouting, in the doorway.
“What. Was that about?”
You shrug softly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t give me that crap,” he says, brows furrowed in frustration. “You’re seriously going to use my own creation against me?”
“Your creation?” You scoff in disbelief. “First off, I don’t remember you carrying our two children around for nine damn months. Second of all, our children are not creations. They’re children.”
“Point one,” he begins, quickly walking over to you. “You were hot as fuck carrying around our spawn. Secondly? Last time I checked, our baby machines only worked when together.”
“Feral!” You snap, giving him a grossed out look before turning towards the snacks you’d been making. “Get the hell out of my kitchen, I don’t want you here- HEY!”
Before you can think, Rintaro reaches past you and grabs the jar of jam, quickly raising his arm above his head to get it out of your reach. You would’ve tickled him for it, but the jam was from a small business three cities over. And the fuckhead knew that, and you hate him for it.
“You’re such a pain!” You growl, making a jump for it. You barely come close. Your fingers wrap around his shoulder in an attempt to yank his arm down, but he tightens it up completely to make it immobile. You’re rendered completely helpless to your husbands cruelty.
“Akito!” You call your son in hopes for assistance, snarling up at your husband. Instantly, socked feet slip along the floor, and at the sight of his figure in the doorframe, Rintaro bears his teeth.
“Don’t help your mother, she has to learn a lesson!” He snaps.
You growl back, “don’t listen to your father, you and your sister’s snacks depend on it!” Akito’s green, confused eyes flick back and forth between you both, and if you weren’t so stubborn, you’d think about how absolutely hilarious this is.
Rintaro, in all his 185 cm glory, holding a damned jar of jam above his head, so much so a sliver of his side pokes out from his shirt, and you, crossing your arms childishly after making extreme reaches for the jar.
It’s ridiculous, it’s childish, and it’s perfect for your marriage.
Akito gnaws his lip, “I mean… Ma is the boss, dad-“
“If you scram, I’ll double your allowance this week.”
“Bye mom!”
With the last bit of hope you have, you watch as he skates his way back into the living room, eye twitching in annoyance. “Kaiya wouldn’t betray me like that!”
“She’s three, mom!”
“She’d still help!”
Left to your own pity, you once again make a reach for the jar, only for him to reel his arm back a little bit more. “Give me a break, I have snacks to make,” you say, voice pitched in annoyance and defeat.
“Tell me you won’t go to our son for husband jobs.”
“Tell me you’ll take out the trash when I tell you to!”
“I thought you were throwing it out!”
“Why would you not check!”
“I didn’t think I had to!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll check on your waking daughter,” Akito calls annoyed from the living room, the only thing breaking up your argument.
With a deep, exhausted breath, Rintaro slowly lowers his arm, though still keeping a slight distance between you. “Cant we both say we’re wrong?”
“I’m never wrong,” you snip.
“I know, but for the sake of waking our three year old up, please just cave with me. Please, baby. I’m-“
He’s cut off by your quick lunge for the jar. He yanks it out of the way, and you’re left chasing it like a dog with a treat. You do, however, hear your husband laugh, but it’s not the laughter of victory from a few moments ago.
It’s laughter of adoration.
“I will leave you.”
“Gotta get the jar first.”
You, once again, for the nth time in a row, make a reach for it, but this time, Rintaro’s free arm quickly wraps around your waist to encase you in a hug, and he leans you back into the most ridiculous dip you’ve ever been apart of. You can’t begin to fight your own laughter that bubbles past your lips, fingers instinctively gripping his collar for stability.
Once your titters are finished ringing in the air, he straightens you both up, relaxing as you thunk your head against his chest. The jar gets put down on the counter, and he kisses the crown of your head sweetly as his arms tug you close.
“You’re annoying,” you purr.
He chuckles, “I know.” He closes his eyes and gently breathes in your scent, “and I’m sorry about the trash my love. Even if I thought you took it out, I really should’ve just. Checked.” Long fingers gently smooth up your neck to gently massage the nape, and he hums as you melt like putty against him.
“Now it’s gonna sit,” you pout. “In the trash outside. And it’s gonna smell. And we’re gonna be the house with smelly ass trash.”
“I know,” he repeats, trying not to laugh at your concerns. “I’ll take care of it princess- and worst case scenario, I’ll write letters apologizing to the neighbors for our rotten trash.”
You snort softly against his collarbone as you continue to nuzzle closer, “I’m sorry I went to Akito to open my jar,” you confess, angling your head up at him. He smirks and leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, his hands moving up to cup your cheeks lovingly.
“You wanna know a secret?” He asks against your lips.
You hum in intrigue.
“I’m pissed because I tightened them all when you were in the shower, so you’d have to talk to me.”
“SERIOUSLY?”
spyfam au? spyfam au.
I rarely reblog anything but um here you go
i am sorry for the person i will become when the fourth instalment of the life series comes out