#this was my excuse to get procreate dreams :) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dollargoat68 · 2 years

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The Biggest Drawback In Minecraft Server Download Comes Right Down To This Phrase That Begins With "W"

However there will be a metagame of kinds in "enhancing the ecosystem" of each zone, so it isn't arduous to see that Bytebin may run into bother, if the sport seems to be uber common, in conserving its servers afloat. There are also magical powers to dabble with, which you acquire by discovering historical shrines. Some video games are cycling out of Game Pass and/or EA Play this month. ‘He utterly understood the game. The sport isn't a twist on an existing components -- e.g. "A platformer that does X" -- which is a great basis for an indie sport, as a result of an audience can "get it" right away. An excuse to get out of raiding? To make your dream true by gathering information relating to the websites that provide options of playing on-line games, you would like to get every step that is required on this course. Spadaccini called easy side-scrolling video games like Castle Crashers the program's "candy spot," and certainly, they worked like a charm. Many players may initially say Cell: emergence is a simple recreation, just from seeing the graphics alone. Mike Suszek (@MikeSuszek): I want to wrap up Pokemon White earlier than choosing up the new sport, and play extra of The Walking Lifeless.

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#ROOF INFO #Roof is on fire

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katsuflossy · 4 years

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A Doll’s Palace

Pairing: Hawks x Reader

TW: Angst, Mentions of maternal death, death, yandere themes, mentions of societal female expectations

A/n: If it wasn’t for Echo and Mix, would’ve been straight booty cheeks so omg thank y’all for helping me edit this to near perfection ❤❤❤

Taglist: @johariameil @iiminibattlehero @ecao @melanimed @mixfi

Chastity, Purity, Demureness, Divine Feminity: They built your enamored status and innocence in the kingdom of Braavos. A pure noblewoman is seen as the most remarkable feminine icon in society, and you involuntarily became the symbol that many women hated and men looked up to. A curse, your father had called it, as the most beautiful of your family is always the earliest to go, right after birth. Since then, you’ve grown to embody your mother, a face he so loved, and swore on his life that you would never die from a soul exchange as your mother did.

But your marriage with Takami Keigo? A reality every hopeless romantic maiden could only experience through dream. . King ‘Hawks’ was preferred by his people, an esteemed man that led millions to victory in battle with wit and millions of hearts to burst using charm. You were one in a million, the heart that won the golden ticket to strike the hawk’s heart.

Too bad, the reality was shared another lucky heart.

Red silks tailored to your natural measurements; the powdered innocent blush on your face was paralleled to the floor as your brain overflowed with thoughts. Your hands twirled the parchment scroll in your palms, but your eyes remembered the exact words inked on the paper. They jumbled with the script you’ve repeated since the crack of dawn. Midoriya fluttered about the room, making the bed you just laid in and unclogging the once cold bathwater made for you to look more ‘youthful.’ A simple day in the Crystal Queen’s life.

“Izuku?” Your manservant ceased his movement, eagerly giving his attention to you.

“Yes, my Queen?” His eyes tried to reach yours; however, they remained on the paper within your hands, slightly crinkled from when your restraint broke.

“You would tell me when I am wrong” Your irises slowly slid to his frame; pupils almost swallowed into the depths of your eye color. A shiver ran down his back . “right?”

“Y-yes, my Queen.” He didn’t dare to flinch under your gaze, which stared at him longer than what was comfortable. You ended your stare by closing your eyes, giving him a wide smile before rising from your love seat, slipping the parchment in your sleeve. Your steps passed straight by his still frozen figure until they had reached the door frame.

“Midoriya, my faithful servant.” Your voice echoed through the room like a skillful siren. His attention remained on you as you continued to speak.

“I want you in the main dining hall by eight on the dot. Please don’t be late.” You left before he could properly bow at your command.

The barren halls laughed at you, pricking your mentality, forming pairs of figures every few columns you passed. A maid was pressed against the left column just a while ago, arms wrapped around the pale neck of your husband, his arms around her peasant waist.

The one you just passed? The same maid laid her hands on Keigo’s face, smoothing out his goatee’s hairs, and he allowed her to.

The entrance of the dining hall up ahead held your heart’s worst fear. An exchange of breath, love, and intimacy that should be sacred between those wedded. Your mind pictured the peacock vase at the entrance shattering on your behalf, impaling the two’s skin. The imaginary screams were like wine to your ears as you finally entered the hall.

The area was warmed by the marble light of the great chandelier,everything was covered with the golden gleam, hiding the little splatters of deep red in the floor. A mint haired maid captured your attention.

“Your Majesty? I apologize, but the dining room is not finished for tonight’s dinner.” Her brown eyes stared at you nervously; her chubby cheek showed where her teeth bit into its flesh.

“Oh, no worries, I am just looking for now.” The fake smile stuck itself to your face as you examined the long dining table. Only a handful of food were fixated on the top.

“You make excellent food here, Cara. What beautiful carvings in the baby carrots.” You quirked up, noticing she stiffed at your last words.

“Of course, my work is only done best for you, y-your Majesty.” Your practiced laugh came through the room, instilling superficial relief in the maid.

“But I must ask, are you eating some as you cook? You’ve gotten wider in the last months.” Your hand took her chin; curious eyes roamed her plump face as she blushed by the attention.

“Haha, y-yes, I’ve been eating a little more than usual.” Her gaze shuffled to anywhere but you. She was such a terrible liar.

“As long as you’re not eating for two.” You threw your head back; melodious laughter exhausted your stomach pit. Cara barely joined in with her nervous laughter, face breaking red in embarrassment.

“Did I hear my little bird’s beautiful laughter?” The kingly presence broke into the room. Which one? You kept your tongue as Keigo wrapped you into a kiss, which sadly set your heart on fire. Your lips separated, trained eye watching as his own sneakily trailed to the kitchen maid. Your smile dulled before brightening .

“My King, I have exciting news for you.” Your face snuggled into his palm on your cheek. Hawks eyes gleamed like the most gilded of plates.

“Hm? Well, love, don’t keep me on my toes. Let me hear it.” You relished in his arms wrapped around your midsection before pulling out of his embrace, bopping him on the nose.

“That’s the purpose.o keep you anxious until the grand reveal.” Your smile started to burn your cheeks as you watched the room’s bustle, preparing for a grand disaster.

Violins and Cellos played throughout the dining hall as the dinner began. The long table set with food separated you and Keigo, each taking the farthest end. Playful looks and banters were exchanged between the two as the servants lined against the walls, ready for even the most subtle commands. After laughing at one of Keigo’s pun, you clapped, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Well, it was all a joyous evening, but I must bring attention to the evening’s highlight: the surprise.” Hawks quirked up in curiosity. The rest of the maids and Midoriya exchanged curious glances but did not say a word. You rose from your seat, hand gliding across the table’s surface.

“As you know, I am a lady of chastity, not by will, but by curse.” Your steps drew closer to your king.

“My father wishes nothing of seeing me carrying a little one. You, my king, are a young man, one who’s drive is active. A man who wishes to grow old with children around as you said at our first ball.” You were only a mere meter away from his seated figure, close enough to watch his adam’s apple bob in nervousness.

“Yes? But my little bird, why is this such an important announcement.”

“Be patient, my love. I am getting to that.” You were half a meter away from him now; his brow held the slightest furrow in them. Cara shuffled in the corner of your eye.

“Well, I begged my father, being of a monogamous nation, and it was hard. Harems were long abandoned in the kingdom of Braavos, but I did it.” You pulled from your sleeves the parchment paper and gave it to Keigo, whose eyes were full of anxiety. He opened the scroll to read.

“In the Kingdom of Fukuoka, the King will have the privilege of a harem, up to 20 women. He will be able to officially appear with them at balls, sleep with them, and—” his eyes flicker to you with shock before rereading what was written. “—procreate with them.”

You smiled before pointing to the end of the paper.

“Only if the Queen, rightfully crowned and inaugurated, is given the parenthood of all children birthed by the harem. The Queen will also be able to have a harem of her own, whether sexually or not.”

Hawks’ wings rose, eyes looking at you in disbelief. You lifted his face close to yours.

“Don’t worry, love. I only have eyes for you. Though,what happened to equality and freedom? The two things you fight for?” Your eyes flickered to Cara, whose face was red with anger. Keigo already took the pen from your sleeves and signed the paper.

“S-stop! This law c-can’t pass !” Her voice broke the cheery atmosphere, riddling it with confusion. The maids began to whisper frantically. You rose a brow at her outburst.

“And why is that? You have no say in royal affairs, kitchen maid.” Her eyes began to water, falling down her fat cheeks onto her fabric.

“P-please, d-don’t take my baby.” The room fell deadly silent after her plea. You ripped your hands from Hawks’ body, face morphing in shock.

“What do you mean, ‘your baby’?” Your eyes turned to Hawks, who sat silent. You could see the gears turning in his head to construct a lie.

“Hawks. What does she mean ‘your baby’?” His gears steamed before stopping abruptly, giving up on filing an excuse. His hands reached out to hold you.

“I can explain.” You moved quickly out of his range before halting him in his tracks.

“You can explain? Do you know how embarrassing that is to me? If it’s true, you’ve been cheating on me for months! Knowing that I couldn’t even bear for you!” Your heart pained you as the night you found out, reliving the shock and betrayal over again.

You were breaking character. Taking a deep breath, you turned away from your husband, a tear slowly streaking your face.

“We’ll talk about this when there aren't any spectators. Cara, bring out the special wine I’ve asked you to make for the celebration. I hope you two are happy.” Cara still stood on the spot, by fear and resistance. You turned to her; wide eyes staring straight into her soul.

“Now.” She ran to the kitchen, hand over mouth to hide her whimpers.

“Midoriya, help the pregnant lady out. It’ll be a shame if she broke her back or something.” Midoriya jumped up, running in the same direction as Cara.

“(Y/n), let me explain please—”

“There is nothing to explain; just enjoy your wine and celebrate.” The bitter sarcasm rolling off your tongue in waves. Cara and Midoriya entered the hall. Her eyes strong with will and face wiped of tears. Midoriya poured the wine for Hawks, filling his chalice to the brim. The winged king sighed and took an immediate gulp. You immediately turned to Cara, your eyes evoking sadness.

“I can’t even be in the same place as you two right now.” You stormed out of the dining room, leaving only the sounds of your shoes hitting the floor.

The candle lights flickered as Hawks entered your shared bedroom, dressed and cleaned for bed. You sat on your loveseat from the afternoon, now twirling a diamond ring on your finger. As he stood in front of you, your eyes remained on your hand.

“My love please forgive m—”

“Why?” You looked up at him; pupils dilated.

“Why should I?” He stepped back, startled to see the pain he had inflicted on you. He stared into your wide eyes for a moment longer until he knelt down, knees touching the red carpet’s wool. His hands clasped your own stopping the continuous twirl of your marriage symbol before wetting his dry lips.

“For a young royal bachelor, I was loved by all types of power-hungry men and women; they flocked me with compliments, ideas, whispers, promises. But you, you were the one that saw who I was behind my status, a young boy who lost his parents. A coward put into the place of a king before he could even blink. You saw the real me, and still, you didn’t turn away. We both embrace our vulnerabilities from each other, and if—” His Adam's apple bobbed, throat restricting as a tear fell from his eye. You shuffled in discomfort, your own tears brimming at his speech.

“—if I could take back what I had done, I would do so immediately, within a heartbeat. But she bears my child, and I...I can’t leave it as my father left me.” His neck strained to look up at you, forcing himself not to choke down a cry.

You laid your other hand on his own. Your tears were staining your cheek as you nodded your head frantically, taking him in your arms. He pulled you into a kiss, minty breath intertwining with your own as the candle flames swayed with the emotions.

The scream you let out in the morning had maids and guards rushing to your room. King Takami Keigo was found dead after you both went to sleep. Few hours from the coroner revealed he died of poison.

You walked down the winding stairs of the dungeon with Midoriya by your side. The last cell held a meager amount of light, only showing the mint green hair of Cara. She jumped at the sounds of your footsteps. You ambled up until the bars could touch your toes.

“To kill your very own king is a crime punishable by death.” She wracked in the chains, trying to get closer to you.

“I didn’t kill him! I swear it wasn’t me!”

“It wasn’t you?” You took the chalice from Midoriya, holding it up to the ceiling as if you were inspecting it.

“This was the last thing he consumed before coming to bed, so the maids say.” Your eyes turned back to the ex-kitchen maid who burst into tears; head bowed in shame.

“Everything has pointed to you, but I understand. I’d kill if the love of my life betrayed me too. I’d use the same exact poison too, Aqua Tofana, the famous poison used by many hurt women to end their lovers.” Her head creaked back to your figure, eyes widening with the growing smirk on your face.

“Although the law states you should serve immediate death, I don’t want that precious baby to go along with you. It’s my last semblance of Keigo, after all. So, as Queen of Fukuoka, I have decided to spare you until the baby has been born. You will stay in this jail cell with ample nursing so my child will be born safe and healthy. That is all.”

You and Midoriya left the dark dungeon, Cara’s screams echoing through the hollow area. Your smirk never softening as you climbed up the stairs, hand still holding Keigo's chalice.

Midoriya laid anxious the whole time. After all, he was guilty of killing the king, adding the poison to the wine when Cara wasn’t looking. His silence finally broke.

“My Queen? Why did you make me...do that?” You halted your steps, pondering as you looked at the golden chalice.

“Keigo would’ve never loved me again. She gave him what I couldn’t, a child to love. He would’ve rather played father with an actual mother, a mother who’d know how to love a child. So I had to stop that before I lost my throne.” Your fingers skimmed the actual feather-covered by gold on the cup, feeling its ridges and bumps.

“Izuku?”

“Yes, my Queen?”

“You would tell me when I’m wrong, right?

“Yes, my Queen.”

#bnha #bnha x black!reader #hawks #hawks scenarios #keigo takami #bnha keigo #takami keigo x reader #hawks x black! reader #bnha x poc!reader #bnha hawks

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

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handmaid - 08

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, mentions of violence

A/N: hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

The weather was chilly as they landed in mid French night. Y/N was the first one out the plane, feeling the wind hit her naked arms due to the short sleeved dress. Sebastian, on the other hand, was the first one out of the airport, excusing himself due to business which Gwen gave little care to. In all honesty, Y/N thought she was particularly fine with the idea of the only person powerful enough to order her around being as far as possible. After all, Paris is the city of love, endless possibilities in Gwen’s mindset.

They were driven to the hotel, the landscape from the nightly Paris making Y/N want to rush out the moving car and just sit down in the grass looking at the night sky. However, Gwen was tired and Y/N knew better not to argue. She would never win in an argument with Gwen, besides, she knew exactly how the heiress acted whenever she got her way. Thinking about it, maybe only once in their whole life had Y/N won an argument with her and that had been when she was 5 and not really understanding of her role in the family. Y/N was a handmaid, the literal definition of handmaid is a female servant so why should she put in danger her own survival? If Gwen really got mad at her and disposed of her or fired her, Y/N wasn’t entirely sure how to begin a new life. Sure, she had a degree, a perfect CV but other than working as a handmaid for the mob, she had never worked before and only know was she getting paid for it. She’d rather be silent about it than put her own stability at risk.

They arrived at the hotel at around 2 AM and were quickly checked into their bedrooms. As per usual, Y/N’s bedroom was always next to Gwen’s and normally on the top floor for safety reasons. Y/N rolled her suitcase into her bedroom, bidding Gwen goodnight as she went to sleep. She threw her bag onto the bed and rushed over to the window, opening it so the night air come could in.

She huffed, leaning against the railing of the balcony, looking up to the full moon that light the dark night sky. Her mind flew to Sebastian and his teasing comments at the plane. In any other occasion, maybe one where he wasn’t that angry at his associates, she would’ve fought him on her idea of dreaming. Dreaming. What did he even have to dream about? Like Gwen, he was filthy rich, heck even more than her. He had power, control ... if he had a dream, he could probably have it in a snap of his fingers. She guessed that at least she was in Paris and that was good, that was fantastic.

Frankly, her mind was just wandering around the Sebastian Stan subject because, well, it didn’t want to leave the subject. The casual and messy styles she had caught him on both in sweatpants and with his dress shirt unbuttoned had glued to a psyche. Half her brain was telling her stop thinking about your friend’s future husband and the other half was telling her to go right ahead, not like Gwen would worry about it.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was trying to handle a deal gone wrong. The most he could do was scream at them and threaten to have their head on a plate. Even with that, his associates would rather cry about spilled milk than go and try to fix it. His father was a great man but giving leadership of his French sector to Thompson Williams had been and would forever be the worse thing ever. It wasn’t like Sebastian could just demote him, it would make most of his supporters go against him and if he just killed everyone, who would do the dirty work after?

- It’s the second time this year. - Sebastian poured himself a glass of whiskey, trying to whisk away the fact that he’d much rather be in his hotel room, or probably Y/N’s, than dealing with a minor man’s mistake. - I’m starting to think Mr. Williams that we might have an issue here.

- The shipment was faulty, it is not my f ...

- I told you the shipment was much too cheap for its value. I remember fucking telling you not to buy it and you still bought it behind my back and lost me over three million. I will have your fucking head on a stick if this isn’t solved by you, by tomorrow. - he spat at the much lower ranked mobster who was sat down on his guest office chair, except on his own office chair. - And not a single cut of the deal will fly your way.

- It was a good bet, I had to take it.

- My fucking family is not fucking based on bets, it’s based on organised deals with serious fucking people who give a damn they’re part of it. - he slammed the glass hard enough against the desk to give way to a crack. - Fix it or I’ll cut your fucking hand off.

He grabbed his jacket’s from the hanger, slung it over his shoulder and walked outside the lesser man’s office followed by his swarms of bodyguards. Did he need the bodyguards? No, it was mostly a show of power and someone who could do the dirty job if it was necessary. However, at this point, his brain was still processing at Upper East Side times and not Paris. In simpler words, he could feel his lids heavy and his temples hurt but his mind was going haywire. He should’ve fired him, god all he wanted to do was diminish him to serving drinks at his engagements.

He reached the Hotel Montaigne closer to 4 AM and took off to his normally reserved suite. The hotel was his, or at least in the paperworks, his father’s therefore he had certain privileges such as being able to have his own room free from pesky guests, with the best view. A view of the Tower Eiffel. A view Y/N would probably enjoy.

- Sebastian? - his head swiftly turned to the source of the noise. He noticed Y/N standing there with sleep filled eyes in a white set of pyjamas. - You banged the door a bit too loud.

- Did I wake you up? - he tried to soften up his tone but, sadly, the business troubles were still very much present on his mind therefore his angry facade was still very much present too.

- I’m a light sleeper. Besides, you looked worried and I thought you might want to talk about it. - she leaned against the door frame.

- Is that what you do when Gwen’s upset? - he pulled on the knot of his tie, successfully loosening it up and throwing it to the side.

- No, when Gwen’s upset I lock myself in a bunker and hope she doesn’t come find me for stress relief. - Y/N closed the door behind her, trudging up to him who had now thrown his tie and jacket to the side, unbuttoning the top first buttons of his dress shirt. - I’m guessing the meeting didn’t go well.

- Catastrophic would be underrated.

- You did all you could. - she gave him a soft smile, the type of smile a partner would give you when you came back from a long day. The type of smile that wrapped you in the false idea of a comfortable home life, at least, to him. Nevertheless, Y/N seemed to embody that warmth specially when she gave him that traditional signature smile of hers. His hand, mindlessly, laid upon her elbow as to which her gaze immediately lingered upon. Once again, that typical heat that made itself present when she was around him made itself known and she shifted from side to side, teeth coming to pull at the skin of her own bottom lip. - I feel like you’re upset because have an issue relinquishing control.

Sebastian took a step back at her sentence, lips slightly open at her statement as he found it hard to reply to her. He wondered if there was something more to her ingenue environment or if that same ingenue atmosphere had given her the unknown courage of telling that to a mob boss. Of course he had to constantly have control, that was his job.

- You can’t control everything in your life, Sebastian. - she sat on top of his much comfortable looking duvet. Unlike her room which was decorated in shades of white, his bedroom was decorated in dark rich shades of scarlet red and light beiges. - It goes against the laws of nature itself doesn’t it?

- Well ... - he took to sitting by her side, leaving not much of two inches between the beginning of both their hips. - I believe that humans are really good at controlling even the laws of nature. We decide when plants bloom, when and how animals should procreate and even their genetics ... why shouldn’t I believe I can control everything?

- Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. If you worry about every single time you lose control over your business, it’s more like punishing yourself than punishing the ones you’re meant to.

- I’m really grateful for your concern, Y/N, but you’re not my handmaid, you don’t have to worry about me.

- Don’t tell me you even wish to control who worries about you and who doesn’t. - she crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at him but he merely chuckled at her.

Y/N gaze moved from his inspections one to the window, eyes agape as she came in contact with the most beautiful view she could ever picture. Mindlessly, the young woman rushed over to the balcony, only stopping once the rails hit her stomach. The night air and the look at the Tower Eiffel looked exactly like what one of her very good dreams would entail. Her eye sparkle and wondrous look did not go unnoticed by the mob boss who paced over to her side, gaze fixed on her soft complexion and how the smallest things just seemed to have the largest effect on her. Maybe owning the hotel had made him forgot how breathtaking the view really was or maybe it was because she was over there in white pyjama shorts and shirt with the most striking look in her eyes.

- Woah, angel. - he put his hand on her abdomen, slightly pushing her back before she could cross over the railing. - We don’t want you to fall, do we?

- It’s just marvellous. How can you even sleep with a view like this? - well, he would very much enjoy to fall asleep in that balcony if she were by his side.

- I’ve been seeing this since I was a kid, Y/N. It loses its charm.

- No, I don’t believe that. You just have no taste.

- I have no taste? - he furrowed his eyebrows at her. - Angel, I’ve had people’s head for less.

- Oh ... I’m sorry. - she took a step backward, playing with her hair.

- I was just playing. - his hand rested on her forearm, caressing the skin with the pad of his thumb. - Look, if you wa...

- Mr. Stan? - the bodyguard knocked on the suite’s door, making Y/N take a few steps back becoming void of his touch.

- WHAT?! - Sebastian barked at the man, turning around, hand on top of his silver revolver just in case. Not that he was gonna shot the man in front of Y/N, he would probably traumatise her and Gwen would sue him. The man cowered in front of him, eyes settled on the young woman by his side knowing she was the only reason he wasn’t dodging a bullet.

- There’s a call for you from Mr. Williams.

- You should go. - Y/N smiled, tired. - I should probably return to bed.

- Wait, angel, will you join me for breakfast tomorrow morning? I can get some room service, have it by the balcony.

- I’m sorry, Sebastian. I already promised Gwen I would go shopping with her in the early morning. - sure, she’d rather be having breakfast with the Tower Eiffel in sight than having to go to the Champs-Élysées with Gwen for some high spending shopping. Yet, on the other hand, it felt odd to have breakfast with her friend’s fiancé. She shouldn’t.

Without giving too much of a look to Sebastian whose traits probably included persuasion, she returned to her bedroom, locked the door behind her and tucked herself into the comfortable sheets. Her eyes were set in the darkness of the bedroom, heart beating like a drum as his touch seemed to linger on her skin, almost like a ghost feeling.

Y/N didn’t remember falling asleep, however it felt like she didn’t slept for long once her alarm went off. With a tiring motion, she lifted from her torso from the bed, rubbing the sleep off her eyes. She placed her feet on the floor and meandered around her room, hoping the cardio-like walk would wake her up a bit more. After sleep disappeared from her eyes she grabbed her clothing and walked off her bedroom, knocking on Gwen’s door. Much to her surprise, she was already prepared to go, sunglasses on and a dark velvet green dress on matched with brown boots.

- Aren’t you excited? Paris shopping. - Gwen pushed her handmaid by the arm, followed by the bodyguards onto the lift. However, all Y/N could think of was Sebastian. She felt bad for denying his request, mostly because she really did enjoy the request but being on his company all the time would probably hurt his image or even worse hurt Gwen’s feelings.

Maybe it had been her willingness to overthink a simple suggestion, but once her brain took her back to reality she was standing at the very long Champs-Élysées where Gwen was rushing around like a mad-men. Y/N always found the Champs-Élysées rather more accessible than the Upper East Side, mostly due to the existence of more low end shops and known banks than the New York district, yet, the overwhelming amount of high class shops like Marcs Jacobs and Channel made it look like a rich person’s playground. It definitely was that, but Y/N was most interested in the stores’ architecture and Paris’ landscape. However, she was not immune to some materialistic stuff, specially once the two stopped by the brilliantly built Ladurée. The shades of light turquoise like green made it look like something straight off a fairytale book and the sweets on the window display made everyone crave sugar.

- You look very lost today. - Gwen commented, entering the shop along with her handmaid. - I haven’t seen you look this lost since you finished reading Gone Girl.

- I’m just tired. - Y/N smiled tightly, dismissing her friend’s concerns, however, Gwen was much too curious to just let it go. - Couldn’t really sleep.

- Alexander told me you were in Sebastian’s room last night. Is there something happening that you haven’t told me? Is it about me?

- He just wanted to know how to get closer to you, Gwen. You know I wouldn’t tell him anything you didn’t want me to.

- I don’t know, Y/N ... - she pointed at a pink box of what looked like macaroons on the display, handing the cashier her card. - You are very ... righteous sometimes. Pretty sure you can’t lie even without a gun to your head.

- You know I’m loyal to the Forrest family, I wouldn’t tell Mr. Stan anything that you didn’t allow me to.

- Good. I heard he was pissed about Thompson. I don’t know why he wasn’t placed a bullet in the middle of his eyes, I would. - the cashier handed her the pink box and the two women followed by the bodyguards walked back outside onto the street.

- You can’t just shot everyone you hate, Gwen. Who would you rule over then?

- Newer, smarter people.

They were out on the street until late afternoon when Gwen decided it was time to return to the hotel, which Y/N’s feet were eternally grateful for. As per usual, she had ended up carrying her fair share of bags along with the bodyguards and the weight plus all the walking had left her wanting nothing but to lay down and perish for a few seconds.

After all the bags were in the heiress’ room and she had sneakingly, yet not that unnoticeably to Y/N, walked to the hotel bar with one of the bodyguards she was particularly found of, Y/N was finally free to return to her bedroom. Happily. she tapped her card against the bedroom door, a click indicating the door was ready to be open. Pushing her door open, her heart skipped a beat as a very familiar figure stood in the middle of her room. She let out a gasp, holding onto the handle of the door, ready to bolt off.

- Please don’t be scared, Miss Y/N. - Mr. Williams prowled to her, a bit to close for comfort. - I just needed to have a word with you.

- Mr. Stan and Ms. Forrest are not available, right now. Please leave my bedroom. - her knuckles held forcefully onto the handle of the door, hoping a bodyguard would notice the slightly creaked door.

- I wish to speak for you, please Miss. You must speak with Mr. Stan about me, try to get me in his good graces please.

- I think you should speak with Ms. Forrest about that not me. - well good luck, she liked him even less than Sebastian and unlike the mob boss was rather reckless in her decisions.

- I don’t think she is as influential as you are, Miss. With all due respect, I believe you’re the only one who can help me and maybe gain me some forgiveness. - his voice was honeyed, yet his words registered like nails on chalkboards on her brain. - Please, Miss Y/N, I’m sure if you ask him he won’t be as harsh.

- I think you misjudged my relationship towards Mr. Stan. I’m his employee, I would love to help but I don’t think he would care much for my opinion.

- You certainly have noticed you’re highly in his favour, Miss Y/N. Please, I’ll make it worth your while. - he grinned at her almost as if he was mocking her words, but that wasn’t what really was bothering Y/N. His presence bothered her, specially once his hand went over hers to pull the handle completely. - I would be grateful.

He opened the door completely, walking off and shutting it on the young woman. Almost out of memory, she locked the door and rushed over to her balcony to do the same thing. Y/N didn’t want to think about how he’d gotten in her bedroom, he clearly wasn’t in any of Sebastian’s favourite books and definitely not in Gwen’s.

- M’am? - her body trembled at the knock of the door but the voice soothed her. Thankfully, it was her bodyguard - It’s me, m’am. We can’t have the doors locked with you inside the room for safety measures.

- I’m sorry. - Y/N’s hands shivered as she unlocked the door, opening it slightly to stare at the bodyguard. - I’m sorry, Elias. I was just not feeling very well.

- Oh, would you like me to notice Mr. Stan or Ms. Forrest?

- No, it’s fine. It’s fine. - she gave him an understanding smile before closing the door again. Without much thought, she stripped off her clothes and jumped into the shower allowing the hot water to drip down her body. In his favour, she wasn’t in his favour. She was just his employee and his fiancée’s handmaid, meaning he shouldn’t really be rude to her.

It wasn’t like Y/N could just go on and tell him to go easy on one of his associates, she just couldn’t unless she wanted to be screamed at. Being screamed at is not something she really wanted but on the other hand, she didn’t want Gwen or Sebastian to shot him for no reason or for at least an unreasonable one. Besides, Mr. Williams looked scared. With that in her mind, she walked off the shower, putting on one of her sweater-like fabric dresses.

- Y/N? - she hunched her shoulders, hand on top of her chest as the knocks reverberated within her room. God, why does everyone want to speak with her today?

- Come in. - Sebastian came into the bedroom, back in his very business formal which somehow disappointed her. She definitely preferred the more relaxed style, at least on him. - Gwen is at the bar right now, if you’re looking for her.

- I own this hotel, angel. I know exactly where everyone is. I’m here because Elias told me you weren’t feeling well. - that little back stabber. - Was the shopping trip that bad?

- I’m just a bit ... I think overwhelmed fits.

- Too overwhelmed for a surprise?

- I think I’ve had my fair share of surprises today, but I wouldn’t mind seeing what you have in store.

- Well, c’mon then. - we checked his watch. - We have a few minutes.

She shrugged, getting up from the bed and following him into his bedroom, looking around to make sure Gwen wasn’t around to ask many questions. Her major issue was that her friend thought that she was feeding Sebastian information about her love life and maybe she would, if she remembered the last guy she was with.

Sebastian pulled her until his balcony, setting her so that her sight laid on the sunset landscape and the Tower Eiffel.

- What am I looking at? - not that she didn’t love the sunset, she absolutely did, she just thought it wouldn’t be something Sebastian would be particular excited to show her. Not that he should be excited to show her anything.

- Just wait. - he checked his watch once again, ensuring her gaze didn’t leave the iron lady. As Y/N readied herself to ask him what he wanted her to see, the Tower Eiffel lit up and like the building so did her eyes as she gasped at the sight in front of her. If she thought the view from last night was stunning, she did absolutely thought this thing was merely out of this world. - It lights up at sunset.

- This is just beautiful. Thank you so much. - she wrapped her arms around him for a few seconds before returning to look at the lit up building. - Ugh, I could just live here forever.

- You’re certainly easy to please. - he leaned against the railings, looking at her with the look of utter most adoration. How could someone in her field still enjoy the little things was always interesting.

- I ... I need to speak you. - she played with her nails, looking up to his eyes.

- Should I be concerned?

- It’s about Mr. Williams.

tag list: @sideeffectsofyou @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan au #mob!sebastian stan #mob boss!sebastian stan #mafia!sebastian stan #mob boss AU

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chemtrail-mix · 3 years

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✨Ephemeral Moments✨

Sometimes, when your OCs can’t be besties, you give them a fleeting moment with one another instead. I do realize that aside from the Tooka backpack, there’s very little indication that this is Star Worms (and maybe it’s for the best lol), but I also love the idea of OCs being normal people doing normal shit. This was also an excuse for me to fuck around on procreate instead of packing for my move out of state. I’m still learning and practicing, but here they are. ✨

On the left, holding the backpack is @luladoll ‘s OC Halla. Halla’s in Hailey’s wonderful and beautifully written Tech/OC fic, “Return to Sender”, which I will keep plugging until Hailey tells me to shut the fuck up and leave her alone forever. Thank you for letting me draw her (and her backpack)!

On the right, we have my OC, Rania and her mom, Tazzia. They’re both in my own fic but I’m not gonna plug that bc the idea of doing self promo for that fic on this post actually makes me wanna vom. But it’s my first time drawing Tazzia and I’m happy with how she came out. I also like the little mommy-and-me thing Tazzia and Rania have going on with their outfits.

—————

So what went on here? I like to think that Rania took notice of the backpack. Halla, despite her shyness, decided to play peek-a-boo using the creature’s arms—much to little Rania’s delight. The train ride home was longer than usual, so Tazzia and Halla struck up a conversation. Tazzia, upon learning Halla was studying Interplanterary Law and Relations, was fascinated. Halla had been worried about what Tazzia might say to her regarding the subject of clones. Thankfully, Tazzia was incredibly receptive. It certainly wasn’t something she heard very many people advocating for. Halla learned that Tazzia had graduated from the University of Coruscant only a couple of years before. She’d studied botany, but instead of continuing her education, she worked at a plant nursery. Meanwhile, Tazzia’s husband, Uriah, was still attending UoC, where he was getting his advanced degree in engineering. Tazzia added that he had been offered a job with the Coruscant Department of Transportation upon graduating. Halla’s heart was warmed by how proud Tazzia was of him. Halla hoped, in her heart of hearts, that someone she loved would speak about her the way Tazzia spoke about her husband one day.

Eventually, Tazzia and Rania arrived at their stop. Halla used the tooka’s little arm to wave them goodbye. The conversation, brief as it was, eased her loneliness. If only for a moment.

———-

It’s a strange and sad thing, that in less than a year, Halla and Tazzia’s plans, hopes, and dreams for the future would be shattered by the Empire.

#star wars #return to sender #return to sender fic #tech/ofc #tech #the bad batch #the mandalorian #star wars oc #tbb #the courtesan #the courtesan fic

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vestigiallegs · 3 years

Note

And more specifics: 37 Sam, 22 Ike, 36 Ancha, 41 Mira, 14 Stranger, 1 Terry, 44 Chris

THIS IS A BIG ONE!!

37: Do people have justified grudges against your character?

Oh, certainly. Another way in which Sam is a Shrek recolor is that she is not merely unfairly maligned for circumstances out of her control, she also creates problems for herself and makes situations worse than they need to be.

There are a few ways in which she contributes to this problem, in general:

1. If someone thinks she is scary and it annoys her enough she will lean into it, “for fun.”

2. She interprets a lot of conflict as fun and games because she is kind of a dick and she does just... enjoy fighting. Since she shrugs off this fighting as fun and games, she often misjudges how much her opponent might forgive because she’s using her own skewed metric as reference.

But those are general statements. You’re probably looking for specifics, and I’m afraid I must let you know I do not really have them at this time. Despite Sam having a variety pack of enemies, I’ve developed Sam’s relationships with the people SHE has grudges against (ie Lance, Page) more than I’ve developed the specifics for anyone who has a running grudge against HER. It’s more of a nebulous crowd of people whose toes she has trampled, some from her shitty younger days, some fresh new enemies...

(I do have one specific Person With A Justified Grudge On Sam that I keep contemplating but I’m not sure if he/she/they/??? will ever make it out of the development phase and become a real character/story element.)

22: What is the worst thing your character has ever done?

My idea was that I was going to answer this disincluding things Isaac has done to himself because that’s a rock bottom that he keeps digging deeper, but even when he does bad stuff to other people it tends to be in tandem with bad things he is doing to himself...

Isaac has plenty capacity for being a dick, and spent a good portion of his life not considering other peoples’ feelings very hard. But, at the same time, he's naturally reserved and at the time where he was the most empathy deficit he also was in the habit of minding his own business. So he was more of a jerk in passing to people than out there doing real heinous shit...

I don’t want to say “cheating with Mira and everything that happened for years after is the worst thing he has ever done” because that feels like a cop out even if it’s probably technically true...

Lying to everyone with his “ah yeah, that’s me, Able-Bodied Man” LARP is bad but in the end he’s doing more damage to himself than anyone else with that one... not that the emotional damages it does to the people who care about him don’t matter because they do...

I guess he doesn’t have a whole lot of Big Worst Moments, just a long resume of being kind of a shithead, letting himself get worse by putting himself in the company of other shithead(s) and taking their shithead advice, and then course-correcting his behavior in a way that makes him also kind of a shithead in a different way.

36: Does anyone want to harm your character?

Oh, probably. Ancha is good at making enemies for a gentle pacifist.

In her youth, participating in politics games routinely earned her all manner of dangerous enemies. Of course, she’s long since outlived anyone who wanted to assassinate her, considering that she’s outlived politics and Atlantean society in general.

Considering there are other (undeveloped at this time) immortals out there, she probably still has SOME enemies...

At the very least, Lucas would probably take a shot at her if he thought he could get away with it!

41: Would your character want to have any children?

“No” with exceptions. Mira is not a nurturing person, nor does she particularly like children, and doesn’t put any value on ideas of “continuing the bloodline” or “making the next generation better” or anything like that. She doesn’t dream of having a family. She’s very much a career woman to the exclusion of other things in life. It’s an easy cut and dried “she shouldn’t raise children which is okay because she doesn’t want them anyway” situation until it isn’t.

You see, all logical reasoning points to “Mira doesn’t want and therefore wouldn’t have children,” but she’s also not immune to the allure of dramatic projections of the future. I could see her keeping an accidental pregnancy, or procreating on purpose if her partner framed it in a romantic, ego-buffing way.

The reality would remain unappealing to her though. Best case scenario she is one of those overbearing achievement hyper-focused parents who is extremely invested in and proud of their child’s talents and accomplishments but emotionally not there.

14: What is the cutest thing your character has ever done?

You come to my own home and ask me to write a hit piece on my own character. How dare you.

I suppose Stranger’s #1 “cute” behavior is how they behave when they fail to find an excuse to hate someone or be rude to them. Stranger doesn’t need a big reason to dislike someone, and will often pick out little things to justify being a prickly son of a bitch. But there is a method to their misanthropy, a sort of equation/assessment they run in their head in order to determine that they are Right to be a bitter and rude in a given situation. Despite the fact that this assessment is extremely rigged, occasionally they run into someone they just cannot justify being an asshole to (example: Nikki).

When this happens, they have no choice but to try feign being normal despite the agony trying not to be a freak to people brings them. They make small talk like it’s actively killing them, hissed and grunted through gritted teeth.

It’s like aw. They’re trying. Not doing a good job, but trying.

1: What is your character's biggest fear?

Terry doesn’t have a lot of big, conscious fears. If you asked him his biggest fear he’d probably say something like, Santa Claus, or a specific Five Nights At Freddy’s jumpscare, shit in that ballpark. He’s not terribly in touch with the concept of fear, same as he’s not super in touch with the concept of mortality.

He does worry about some things that are actually real, but not very deeply and not very often. None of those worries are centered on himself either, he’s confident that he can bounce back from anything and more or less sees himself as endlessly smart, talented, evasive of consequence, and unkillable. Instead he worries about things he knows to be more fragile than himself, like Nugget with her fragile avian bones and respiratory system, or Ike with his fragile human feelings.

44: What is your character proud of?

Chris is not proud of much, and she undermines her few real accomplishments as incomplete or not counting. During her youth as an ELF WIZARD competing in the championship challenges, she was quite accomplished. She withdrew from the tournament, though, and never made it to her televised match. She’s got one of those “if you aren’t first you’re last” sort of attitudes, so as far as she’s concerned, it’s failure all the way down.

THAT SAID she can do a sweet kickflip. She’s proud of that. She has a SWEET GAMER COLLECTION of VIDEOGAME, and she’s proud of that. And she makes for a great, reliable mafia goon! She’s really proud of that one.

#answered ask #sam #ike #ancha #mira #stranger #terry #chris

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frombeyondtheblackhole · 3 years

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I’ve been really vibing with idea that Tubbo has a dark side. He is always so chearful but at the same time he is not afraid to use dirty tactics to win. For example, spleefing Dream off his tower in the disk war or portal trapping in the L’manburg war. (P.S. This is just the outline sketch I will probably draw this up in Procreat when I get my new stylus so excuse the low quality. Also I am dyslexic, it’s one of the reasons I like Tubbo so much, so excuse any spelling mistakes. This is just a draft so I did’t bother to fix the spelling)

#dsmp art #fanart #dsmp wilbur #dsmp tubbo #l’manburg #comicart #dream smp #sketch #draft #roleplay #art black hole

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loadedtoast · 3 years

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36/F/NZ

I have grown weary of social media as of late. The kind of social media where everyone has an opinion regardless of its impact on others, where people can type things they wouldn’t say in person and perpetuate misinformation (I am pro-vaccination). I am also growing tired of the (barely) subliminal messaging I receive about diets and body image that troll my feeds.

But I am a social creature by my very nature. Aren’t we all?

My first blog title is a nod to my ASL (age, sex and location). It’s an ‘early internet thing’.

If you are my age, you will recall (hopefully) the advent of ICQ and MSN… The patience of waiting for dial up to connect – god forbid someone else was on the landline – after school so that you could connect with friends, strangers, potential cuties… The potential cuties however were (and still are) not always what they appear to be.

But I am not here to blog about dating. Or house prices. Or global warming, avocados or other woes facing the younger generations – am I still young?

I never thought I would say this. I want to talk about having kids.

I will declare upfront that I want for nothing. I am a reasonably successful, professional woman without kids. I own my own home (or at least half of it). I live a city lifestyle, am fit, healthy and have a wonderfully loving and respectful partner (you know, one of the types of guys that speaks up and isn’t threatened by independent and successful women) - A rarity for which I cherish more than the rest of the stuff I list above. I am sure I will write about it at some point, but he is the product of a single mother doing a fucking incredible job in the most challenging of circumstances. Hats off to her!

As I was saying. I want to talk about kids.

I have never wanted them. And now we (not I. We) want to dip our toes into the pool that an increasing number of 30-somethings decide to jump into …

I am grappling with so many things. Things that are unique to us females.

I spent my teenage years being actively taught more about how to cook, clean and be a good girlfriend than I did about my own body – stuff I am learning now in retrospect (also a probable, future blog). I went onto the pill as soon as I got my period. It was a ‘precaution’ (for whom?). I learned about my vagina because I suddenly needed to put something inside it (not for pleasure) to stop my monthly bleeding from causing me more shame than I already felt – because periods are a woman’s burden to be carried in secrecy, and to be joked about by guys when the emotions get the better of us… “on the rag?” “must be that time of the month…”.

I am now 36 and just starting to become woke (as the kids say it now).

My teenage years, I imagine, were not unique. I recall one sex ed class at high school (yes, just one hour) where we learned about sex leading to STIs (previously called STDs) and pregnancy. Pregnancy was the devil and needed to be prevented at all costs (health, time and concern - which the female generally absorbed).

We skipped the bit about consent, respect and two-way intimacy – I found out about those by trial and error.

I got through to my mid-20s and the rhetoric changed. Instead of those I looked to telling me babies were bad, suddenly, babies were all the rage. I had come out of university with my two degrees, ready for that promised career, and to travel and build the life I wanted.

I felt confused.

Now, I was never the ‘maternal type’. I wonder now if there is such a thing or if its just something that we are carefully manicured into thinking that it’s what we want all along. I never wanted baby dolls and prams as play toys. I wasn’t into pink and pretend kitchens. Instead, as a kid, I was into sports, horses and motorbikes. I climbed trees and played games that used my creativity and imagination.

So, when I reached my mid-20s and people started to ask me about when I wanted to ‘settle down and have kids’ I rejected the entire notion of it. I said I didn’t want kids. In fact, I was well known amongst my peers for saying I didn’t even like kids. Which to a point is true. I don’t like ALL kids. Some kids will not grow into good adults and I place the responsibility for that on nurture not nature. This may be controversial; however I wish to believe that we are all born into this world with the potential for good.

New-born babies were thrust into my arms, because you know, I will need practice… How come boys don’t have to hold babies? I felt awkward. Like I was rejecting something that I was ‘born and bred to do’. But I didn’t want it. Not then.

When I told people I didn’t want kids, they were shocked. Kind of like the shocked face of people when I tell them I don’t drink alcohol anymore – you know, culturally unacceptable behaviour by any Kiwi’s standards. This was quickly followed by, “Oh, you will want them one day… it will all change. Trust me”.

Patronizing much?

I can now say that I felt harassed in those moments. Let’s label it.

The questions and opinions I would get were unnecessary, unprovoked and unhelpful. I honestly wondered why everyone was so invested in my interest in procreating – more so than being interested in me as a person with my own wants and needs. I guess this was part of my training for being a mum. A call out to all the mums who work tirelessly – yes, work (you have a job and it’s the hardest job of all).

I stayed the course and purchased my own home, got a great job that I worked hard for (don’t we all work extra hard, ladies!) and I prepared myself for a life with no legacy (legacy, I learned from those closest to me, is achieved though children, not a career, when you are a woman).

And then I met this guy.

He wanted kids. I kept true to my long-held comms line (like the ‘no comment’) and said I didn’t. And then he did something that I will never forget…

He said it was my choice. My choice.

He asked me why I had made that choice – his right to do after disarming me. I said, without thinking, and for the very first time… “I’m scared”. Shit, no backing out of it now…

I was scared because alongside all of the rhetoric that is forced down our faces about motherhood were the truths. The home truths. The ones I had witnessed in person. I had seen and heard, that taught me all about the value of a woman when she becomes a mum.

Now – disclaimer – I am not saying that I never seen or heard good things about being a mum. But hell, I did see and hear more average things than good things.

I saw and heard about how all the females in my immediate sphere of trust had given their careers up (in the current trajectory that they were on or entirely) when they became mums. If they didn’t choose being a mum, they were falling short of society’s expectations. If they became a mum and chose a career over full time parenthood, they were ‘outsourcing’ their most important role - as a mum.

I saw and heard my mum take the lion’s share of parenting, putting herself last. I saw and heard her play the part of mum and dad while my dad built his career – for us. The career that was really for him – let’s be true, it was his dream he was pursuing, not mine and not hers. I saw and heard her be proud of others but not of herself. I saw and heard her cry, a lot.

FYI I am very proud of my dad and I love him to bits. He is human. So is my mum. They made choices, together, in parenting us, but those choices were not made by people with equal power in the relationship and subsequently the choices did not always (actually, very rarely) benefit mum as a whole person.

I saw and heard my mum find ways to make herself feel better. She was good at buying things she did not need or want.

I saw and heard my mum largely unsupported, doing a thankless job. A job that society places no tangible value on. If you become a mum, and take time out of the workforce (i.e. you leave your job) to raise a child, you are considered unemployed (i.e. you are negatively placed on the ‘books’ aka GDP – not an investment, not a value-add activity, but a cost – you know, that the Government carries).

Funnily enough, ‘unpaid work’ of which parenting falls into, is the single largest sector of our economy but it is unpaid and therefore under-valued. Mums and dads who parent, are not seen as contributing to the nation’s economy. Where does our future workforce come from again?

And then once my last sibling left home, so did my dad. My mum was alone.

Due to her lack of ‘work history’ she could not apply for a credit card – dad could. Mum oversaw the family business finances and ensured we were looked after but did not ‘take home a wage’. Dad did. So, as usual, mum missed out and just kept on missing out. I can’t help but feel incredibly shit for mum. For all women.

These things shape my views on becoming a mother.

As do my own personal experiences.

As bad as this sounds, mum made sure I was better off. I got an education; a good career and I was raised to be independent and to ‘hold my own’. Funnily enough, I don’t recall ever ‘learning’ to hold my own. It wasn’t a session at school, or a mother-daughter discussion. It wasn’t a workshop or a coaching session at work.

Sarah Everard.

I have been following, as many women are, Sarah’s story in the news right now. Well, I correct myself – it’s not her story. It’s the story of her demise, chosen by a man she did not know or chose to know. There is an international groundswell of rage erupting from women around the right to be safe.

I saw an article written about this, and I thought, “shit, me too” (excuse the pun). A woman had put words to all of the ways in which we just know how to ‘hold our own’… the keys between the fingers when walking to the car late at night, the text to a friend “text me when you get home”, the pretending to be on a phone call, or the running without music to keep vigilant and at the ready. And the worst… Literally having an escape plan in your head as you walk down a dark street, or past a pack of guys.

This is an everyday experience of practically all women. Everywhere. I don’t know how we know it; we just do. But we shouldn’t have to.

These things are relevant and ever-present when I think about and talk about motherhood. It is ingrained in me, and has been from a young age, to be prepared for the worst, to take personal responsibility for what could happen to me, and to be prepared for things that men don’t have to worry about (it’s not their responsibility after all).

The reality is that my partner and I bring a completely different world view into a conversation about having kids together. How could it not be?

I am honest with him. I am scared. I have so much to lose – things that I have fought so hard for. On balance, I know there are gains, but one tends to focus on the things familiar and previously experienced.

I have a career built on proving myself. I once spent three months (I was an HR Manager and not a shit one) negotiating with my male boss for a salary increase to be on par with my all-male leadership team colleagues, whose roles were not as large as mine. I had to prove why I ‘deserved it’. I got it in the end. And my male colleagues successfully argued for their salary increases directly afterwards as well… sigh.

I am scared because I don’t want to lose my career. I don’t want to fall behind, and I know I will.

While I have children, my peers will continue to work, earn money, earn Kiwisaver for their retirement (and therefore increase the interest accrued), be rewarded and promoted (and increase their salary)… I will not accrue any leave. I will not get a salary increase or increase my retirement savings. I will not get promoted.

I will more than likely come back to work part time, because my partner and I will make choices and my job is the more flexible of the two. I will start earning again – but less. I will increase my Kiwisaver and get rewarded again – but at a pro-rated rate. I will probably work just as hard squeezing a full time job into fewer days for less money, while also trying to be a mum (also a 1 FTE job).

I worked it out. Furthermore, I will be reducing my in-the-hand income while on maternity leave by 82% while receiving the Government’s maximum paid maternity leave allowance (while I can).

I work extremely hard, but I am privileged. I can see why mums feel torn. I can see why there are massive impacts down the line for gender equity. And I can also see how we have missed a beat here around putting families and children first in NZ and our stats show this… Check out our OECD education stats, our wellbeing stats, our child welfare stats etc… Having working mums is not the issue. It’s the lack of choice driven by negative financial outcomes that makes being a full-time mum the poorer choice (pun intended).

I am scared because I may find it too hard. I am 36. My energy is not what it was. I hear new mums don’t get much sleep. I currently work between 50-80 hours a week. I am not sure how to do both, well. But I am unsure how to be happy, just doing one of these things.

I am scared because I may change. I will have a new focus – this could be amazing, it could also be hard. My friends are career focused. Not baby focused. Will we still have the same relationships? Will I become boring? Will we have the energy to go away with friends on weekends? Who will babysit?

I am scared because my body will change. My body is 36. I look after it. I exercise and eat well. I am not ready to look at myself in a mirror and feel mournful antipathy. Ouch. I know. Women are great at self-loathing and body-shaming ourselves. We learn it from the media. And men. And sadly, also from other women.

I don’t have many friends who don’t hate some or all of their bodies. We are told and shown what we should look like – and men are also shown what we should look like. Porn has its place, but it is not real. Unfortunately, these images require personal trainers, personal chefs, fake tans, implants, botox, fillers, makeup, hairdressers etc… Women don’t get paid as much as men. It is expensive being a woman.

Babies can mean stretch marks, fat that doesn’t go away, sags and hormone driven changes that you cannot explain. It impacts your pelvic floor.

I have heard from other women these things negatively impact on intimacy in the bedroom. How could it not if you are feeling like your body has been replaced with one you don’t know how to rock? And if we don’t rock our bodies, how will our men get off on it?

I am scared that my relationship with my partner will become secondary to the needs of our child… and our individual needs to sleep and have ‘me time’. Our relationship is strong. It is built on respect, communication and trust. I know this after years of relationships where these things were in part or fully absent.

Are helicopter mums born that way or does a switch flick when they have kids?

I want my relationship with my partner to be #1, always. Of course, it is our choosing to make it so. However, I also know what it’s like to put in effort when you’re both tired. Our relationship functions now around shifts, commutes and long work hours. We have it sorted. Add a child and less sleep into the mix and I honestly don’t know how people do it.

We are best friends who talk a lot. So, I hope that’s enough.

I am scared because I don’t want to fail. I am a high achiever. A child is something you don’t want to fuck up. I haven’t done it before and yet I have no interest in having all of the women in my life (or as I have heard, also those not in your life) tell me how to do it. Advice on ‘breast is best’ is unwelcome, Karen… I see and hear how women are given advice. Often entwined with judgement. I then also see and hear men get praised for ‘doing it alone’.

I am scared because after all of this time, if I choose the title ‘mum’ over all else, what if I cannot even become one? This is a real fear and nothing is a give-in. Wanting it, does not make it so.

I am scared because I don’t want to find myself alone at the end of it. This scares me the most. I have seen how the most important woman in my life sacrificed everything and then when it was her turn, it turned out she was the sacrifice.

...

When I write this, the Devil’s advocate voice plays out in my head. “Oh, she is a feminist”, “she is just insecure” “is she really thinking of starting a family with a partner if she thinks he will leave her?”, “she’s a but angry – old chip on the shoulder”.

I am secure in myself. I have done stints in therapy – it’s a gym membership for the soul. I am liberal, yes. And a feminist – name a sound-minded female who isn’t pissed off about the additional hurdles in her lane on the track. My partner and I are solid, or we wouldn’t be talking about having children – talking is what adults do in a healthy relationship.

I am scared. In a way, it is healthy. If I was going into it thinking “I have this nailed” then I am probably delusional, naïve or just plain arrogant.

I am writing this because it is cathartic. It is a way to express the things I feel. And to share them as I expect so many other women (and men – yes, two men can have babies together too) feel.

#mum #parenting #newmum #career #firsttimemum #startingafamily

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luckyjak · 5 years

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Why I Don’t Ship Widojest: A Master Post

An anon sent me an ask about this topic, and I debated for quite a bit about how to answer it. Then I decided the best way was to do a long post like this. I put a lot of thought into why I don’t like it, and I thought to share it.

A few things: 1) I am not telling you not to ship it. The goal of this is not to say “Don’t ship Widojest! It is a bad ship and you are a bad person for shipping it!” That is not my goal, okay? The internet and fandom in particular is meant for fun, and if you enjoy Widojest then more power to you! Don’t let me or anyone else stop your fun! Lord knows I have shipped significantly more problematic things. All I ask is that you tag shit more but that’s beside the point.

2) I am not particularly interested in argument. You are not likely to change my mind. I am not trying to be hostile, but if you know reading this is going to piss you off, then don’t read it. A question was asked of me, and so I thought to share my opinion. Unfortunately for everyone involved I am a high school English teacher, and so I cannot think about anything without completely overthinking it.

About my shipping preferences: generally, I like all the ships! I was particularly fond of Widomauk before Molly died, and I now I really enjoy Shadowgast, but I also like Fjorclay, Fjester, Beaujester, Beauyasha, Widofjord, Clayleb, Lavorclay, and, as the only person on earth, Yasha/Caleb. Hell, if Astrid gets a good redemption arc? Caleb/Astrid or even Caleb/Astrid/Edowulf. Any of those ships could become canon and I’d be tickled pink! You can even throw Nott into the mix, even though I mostly ship her with her husband. Nott/Fjord? Delightful. Nott/Caleb? Weird flex but why not? Nott/Jester? Absolutely! They are the best detectives!

I just don’t like Widojest and I don’t want it to be canon, and here’s why:

Doyalist Reasons First:

1) Laura and Liam played twins for years, still act like siblings even though they aren’t related by blood, and it squicks me to think of them together romantically.

Laura and Liam are fantastic actors. If they were hired to play a romantic couple, I have no doubt in my mind they could knock it out of the park.

But why on earth would they want to pretend to be a romantic couple, in a game they both play for fun?

It would be weird. I play D&D with several guys I consider my brothers, and I can’t imagine pretending to romance either of them in d&d for that same reason. It would be weird.

Maybe it wouldn’t be weird for Liam and Laura. Maybe they are more dedicated to their RP, and they’d be able to push that aside for the sake of fictional romance. But for me, that would be the last thing I’d want to play, and I suppose I project that onto Laura/Liam.

2) A lot of “evidence” for the ship is the way Liam looks at Laura.

To which I say...did you watch Vox Machina?

That’s how Liam looks at Laura all the time. He’s the president of her fanclub. He’s her twinsie. He always looks at her with hearteyes. I have a hard time seeing that as “evidence” for him having feelings for her when...that’s just what his face looks like.

Now, for Watsion reasons:

3) It has all the benefits for Caleb, and none for Jester

Seriously. What does Jester get out of a relationship with Caleb?

Don’t say someone who understands her, because Caleb certainly doesn’t. In fact, the only person who routinely “gets” Jester is Beau. (see: their conversation on the ship.)

Lots of people accuse Widojest as being a Manic Pixie Dream Girl ship because...let’s be realistic, it has all the makings of one. Tortured, broody man meets young, innocent girl who teaches him to enjoy life once again? Wikipedia’s definition is “[girl with] eccentric personality quirks and are unabashedly girlish. They invariably serve as the romantic interest for a (most often brooding or depressed) male protagonist.” Guys, that is textbook Manic Pixie Dream Girl! It gets even worse because Jester’s character is a healer! You want her to heal him? That is squicky!

And yeah, I trust Liam and Laura to be more nuanced than that, but do you know who I absolutely do not trust to be more nuanced?

The fandom. The fandom that is already producing mass amounts of Manic Pixie Dream Girl fanfic. And as that’s where I spend a lot of my free time...egads. I do not want that.

The few Widojest fics I have read (which, admittedly, are not a lot, because again, I don’t like the ship. The few I have read have been tagged as gen and then come to find out, weren’t.) have the distinct problem of woobie-fying Caleb so that Jester can take care of him, and gosh, I do not want that to become a trend.

4) Age Gap

Yes, thirteen years is not that major of an age gap. Yes, Fjord/Jester also have a large age gap.

However, there is a world of difference between “20 year old girl displays romantic interest in a 30 year old man, who decides he likes her back after getting to know her for months” vs “33 year old man decides to pursue a 20 year old woman after they danced one time when he was drunk and held hands and she showed general concern for his well-being.” One is decidedly more creepy.

(And would Jester be the one to pursue a relationship with Caleb? I almost think she’d have to, but again, why would Jester ever pursue Caleb when Fjord/Beau are right there.)

(Also, side note that I thought about making it’s own point but then decided it was petty: if Jester’s type is Fjord--tall, broad-shouldered, dark haired, muscled, then Caleb--skinny, red-head, shorter than Fjord--decidedly isn’t her type.

You know who is tall, dark, and handsome though? Beau.)

And do not say Jester is mature for her age, because she absolutely isn’t! In fact, the whole point of her character is that she’s not mature, she’s very immature and childish on account of her being locked away and being incredibly sheltered most of her life!

Also not a good excuse: Caleb spent 11 years in the asylum and therefore he’s only mentally in his 20s. Uh, no he’s not. He was in an asylum: he was not brain dead. He lived those years. He might’ve been crazy, but he was alive then. Nothing Liam’s done suggests that Caleb is mentally in his 20′s.

5) What would they even talk about?

This is probably actually the one that bothers me the most out of all these reasons, but uh....what would Caleb and Jester talk about, if they were in a relationship together?

Seriously.

They could talk about books? But Jester only ever reads terrible romance and smut. We saw when she tried to pay attention to the dunamancy lessons that she struggles to be interested in that academic stuff that is Caleb’s bread and butter. They could talk about their childhoods? That will go over well. Jester was locked away from society and Caleb straight up murdered his beloved parents. If they manage to avoid that, I’m sure they could fight again over income, what with Jester being a rich kid and Caleb being a poor farm boy. Pranking? Caleb enjoys a good prank now and again, but I can only imagine he’d tolerate getting banned from so many libraries.

They are a cat and a dog, literally. Caleb is an introvert and his idea of a good time is a quiet night at home with a good book. Jester’s idea of a good time is a party with lots of people! Yet I’m supposed to believe they’d have a happy and fulfilling relationship? Don’t get me wrong, many introverts and extroverts do get married in real life, but like...I have a hard time seeing this one working out. How many dicks do you think Jester draws in his spellbooks--which are expensive and time-consuming and require precise work--before that becomes a point of contention?

6) He doesn’t trust her enough to tell her his secrets

Hey quick poll! Who in the Mighty Nein doesn’t know that Caleb murdered his parents?

Fjord. Caduceus. And look, Jester.

I have a hard time buying that he sees her romantically when he can’t even tell her one of the biggest things about him. And he’s known her for months at this point.

If I liked a guy, and I found out he had this big secret, and he had told Beau but not me this secret? I would think he didn’t trust me.

I suppose you could argue that he’s trying to protect her. But then that just goes back into the whole “he doesn’t trust her” argument. He even had the opportunity to and he didn’t during their whole hand-holding thing a few episodes ago!

7) What does their ending look like?

Listen, my ideal ending for Caleb at the moment is “maybe after ten years of friendship he lets Essek tenderly hold his hand for just a moment but no longer” but that’s just me. I see a lot of people who seem to think Caleb’s going to settle down and marry Jester and they are going to have kids, and I just--

Caleb? Having children? Caleb, who murdered his parents and has severe PTSD surrounding that? Caleb, who was abused by his mentor daily for many years? You want to give that Caleb children??? Children who he would constantly worry may grow up to kill him, like he did his own parents, or worse, that he’d do something to accidentally hurt them in a fit of madness?

I could see Caleb maybe adopting a kid if one was forced onto him, but I cannot see him going “ah yes we should procreate!”

Jester, meanwhile, needs like approximately fifteen kids ten years from now, I think. She’d love them. She’d just adopt an orphanage and let the kids run wild and be the best at playing games with them.

Also, character arcs are important. Because Caleb’s ideal ending is stability and Jester’s is exploration.

Caleb, traumatized child soldier who has spent the past 15 years in an asylum and also fighting for his life, and before that spent time traveling between the Zemni Fields, Ikithon’s home in the country, and the Empire’s Capitol, who then escaped the asylum and spent all of his time running, trying to avoid being caught by Ikithon. The best ending for Caleb is to find peace; peace that involves not having to move around anymore, and having a home again, something he hasn’t had in almost twenty years. Maybe that home is a tower in Nicodranas. Maybe it’s a house in Xhoras with six other people. Maybe it’s a quiet bookstore in Zadash, or a little cabin in the Zemni Fields. A garden/graveyard in the woods. Either way, it doesn’t involve a lot of travel from place to place.

Meanwhile, Jester, who was trapped in exactly one place for her entire life, deserves a chance to explore the world. Even when the Mighty Nein disband, I can’t see Jester being happy to just go back to Nicodranas and stay there for the rest of her life. She may settle down eventually, but uhhh, not for several decades, I don’t think. Part of why my two big ships for her are Fjord and Beau: Fjord wants to be a sailor again, I think, which involves travelling the world, so I could see Jester going out with him. Beau, likewise, is an Expositor whose job is to seek out corruption, which again, means travelling, which Jester would be happy to do with her. Hell, the three of them could go together, sailing and punching evil for all of time! It would be great!

(Also: her god is called the TRAVELER why would you want her to settle down and be a mom??? What part of her story makes you think she needs to stay in one place?)

Lastly

I apologize if this post offends anyone. I’ve just been thinking about it for a while, and while Widojest as a ship has surged in popularity, I suppose I wanted to make a counterpoint about my feelings towards the ship. This isn’t meant as an attack on anyone, again, and please, if you like the ship then don’t look at this as a reason to stop liking it! Fandom is for fun! Keep liking what you like!

And I can’t promise I’m always going to feel this way about the ship--hell, the VOD of Thursday’s episode may come out on Monday, and I may watch it and be converted myself. Who knows! I didn’t like Vax/Keyleth at first either, but it grew on me and now it’s one of my favorites from Vox Machina.

(ALTHOUGH Mr. O’brien I swear to God if you romance Jester while flirting with Essek in a direct parallel to Keyleth/Vax/Gilmore I’m going to fly to LA just to punch you.)

Part of me wonders too if it just comes down to character interpretation, if there is something about their characters that is clicking for some people but isn’t for me. Admittedly, I love Caleb and Jester’s friendship, and I see them more as growing like siblings that romantically, but I’ve been wrong before and who knows, I may be wrong again. But if it is a character interpretation, I just wonder what they are seeing about the characters that squicks me but appeals to them.

#critical role #cr discourse #anti-ship #anti-w*dojest

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inorganicone2230 · 5 years

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The Caged Bird (Part 2) Yandere!Erasermic x Fem!Reader

Part 1 Part 3

Summery: For the Gods of Life and Death, loneliness seemed a heavy thing to bare when confronted with the prospect of facing it for an eternity, even with each other. That is until a chance encounter with a certain someone prompts them to think that just maybe, that lonely eternity can be abated, as long as they have the right person to share it with.

Side Note: This is a prequel to my other Yandere!Erasermic story called Divine Intervention. If you have not read that one yet, I highly recommend you go and do that before reading this one.

Warnings: Not many for this chapter, just some light stalking, mentions of future kidnapping and some mentions of breeding.

The weeks spent taking care of the cardinal went by quickly, and you found yourself getting rather excited to finally see the little critter up and flying about. It was obvious that it belonged to someone, it's comfort level around humans went a long way to prove that, and you spent the weeks asking around the village to see if you could find out who owns it, you unfortunately had no such luck with that endeavor.

At one point you had simply contemplated keeping the lovely bird if you couldn't find it's owner, but the way it kept looking to the sky and fluttering it's good wing made you rethink that plan, it was obvious it wanted to be free. You suppose that whether or not it found its way back home was up to fate to decide.

When the day did finally come to let it go, you found yourself just a bit more choked up then you should have been. Having lived alone for so long, you never realized how quiet things could get until you had the little bird to help fill the silence, it's chirps and songs were a nice compliment to your otherwise mundane activities.

You made sure to keep all the doors and windows shut for now, at least until you could make sure that it could fly on its own again, as you gently unwrapped it's wing. You watched as it ruffled its feathers and gave its unused wing a few experimental flaps, tilting its head in a quizzical manner at the appendage, as if it had forgotten that it had even existed. It made you chuckle. “Go on…” You urged, as if it could actually understand you. “We have to see if you can fly properly before I can let you out.”

Surprisingly though, it seemed as if it did understand you, or at the very least, instinct had kicked in as it suddenly jumped up and began to flutter around the limited space of your home with relative ease. “Well, I guess that answers the question of whether or not your strong enough to fly.” You said, walking over to open the side door that looked out on your little garden and the surrounding forest, the cardinal’s dark eyes immediately taking notice as it flew closer to land in your open hand.

It sat in the palm of your hand as it hopped back and forth, chirping and tilting its head at you. “Go on, just try not to get hurt again. I probably won't be around to find you again if you do.” It seemed to understand and gave one last little flutter of its wings, as if to say thank you, before flying off, higher and higher until it was just a speck of red against the bright blue sky. Blinking away a few tears, you smiled and turned to go back inside, intent on making an early dinner and staying in for the remainder of the day.

----------

Shouta and Hizashi watched through a scrying glass while you released the cardinal, dreamy smiles adorning both their faces as they began planning out their next move.

“I don't think it would be a good idea to get too ahead of ourselves just yet.” Shouta chimed, loving the happiness that Hizashi seemed incapable of hiding anytime he so much as looked at or spoke of you, not that he was much better. “She is going to be apart of this to, it would be unfair to plan everything out and not let her have a chance to give an opinion.”

“Yes, I know you're right. I just can't help getting so excited. I want everything to be perfect when we bring her home. I want to show her that we can provide for her and make her happy!” The blonde gushed, putting away the wide array of clothes they had obtained for you over the last few weeks. Hizashi was adamant that you were to be dressed in nothing but the best, nothing like the rags you were currently forced to wear as clothing.

The weeks leading up to now had been a whirlwind for the two deities. Between keeping an eye on their new beloved, planning on how best to approach you when the time came, and making sure they did not slack in their Godly duties, the weeks really had flown right by. Much to their delight of course.

“Now that she has finished caring for the cardinal, we will have the perfect excuse to introduce ourselves to her. I'm sure it won't take too much longer after that before we can tell her the truth.” They had the entire thing already mapped out in their minds. From their first interaction with you, to the moment you breathlessly told them you felt the same. After all, what human wouldn't be humbled learning that the very beings they worshiped loved them. A negative response just wasn't something either of them could consider.

Hizashi, finally finished putting everything away, sat on their bed beside his love. Resting his head on The Death Gods shoulder and taking his hand in his own. “I used to loathe the idea of anyone else being apart of our life.” Shouta said. “But now, the prospect of always having someone here to keep us company while we are apart is more comforting than I could have ever imagined.”

Hizashi hummed in agreement. “I understand what you mean. That first night we saw her, I had that fleeting vision of lullabies and children laughing, and the image has gotten clearer and clearer as the weeks have gone by.” He raised his head to stare lovingly into Shouta's brown and red eyes, lifting his hand to rest it upon his cheek. “Now I can see it all clear as crystal; the laughter and jokes during meals, lazy days together, the three of us in this bed.” His bright green eyes seemed to grow even wider, his grin cocky. “I can see her standing in front of us, glowing and happy and round with our first child. I can see all of these things Shou, and I want them. I need them!”

Shouta, his head swimming with desire as he too imagined what Hizashi described, pulled the blonde into a deep kiss that left both men feeling quite breathless and worked up by the time they pulled away from each other. The dark haired god rested his forehead against Hizashi's, a content and wistful smile tugging at his mouth. “And we will have them all Zashi, we just need to be patient. But I promise you, very soon these halls will be filled with laughter and joy instead of stagnant silence.”

They both smiled, feeling tears of joy prick their eyes as they continued to imagine the future. Little boys and girls running around, begging for their daddy's and mamas attention, playing in the gardens and all the things that came with raising children. But it wasn't just the thought of the children that they were looking forward to, it was also the thought of having another to share the days with, someone to pamper and protect, someone who would listen to them vent about the woes of their day, someone who could hold them both and speak soft and tender words of comfort, someone to help mitigate an argument when they could not agree on something. It was so much more for them than just this sudden urge to procreate, it was everything they had never realized they were missing until it was laid out before them in the form of one tiny, beautiful, human woman.

They had every intention of winning you over and making this dream of theirs a reality. They would allow nothing to get in the way of that, not even you yourself.

This chapter was very short compared to the last few I have posted, but I felt it was necessary to get a better look inside everyone's mind before things really kick off. I hope you all enjoy!

#yandere!erasermic #yandere!erasermic x reader #yandere!aizawa #yandere!hizashi #yandere!aizawa x reader #yandere!hizashi x reader #aizawa x hizashi #fem!reader #reader insert #gods au #light stalking #mentions of breeding #typical yandere behavior #bnha #yandere bnha #prequal

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