#amy parker

[ace-of-garlic-breads]

Sapphic ship doodles for September cause I love Women sm. L-R Lena Webby and Dot (Ducktales and Animaniacs respectively) Amy and Lillian (my Animaniacs Ocs (Amy is shared with @lemon_h_ ) Minerva Mink and Hello Nurse from Animaniacs) Apple Jack and Rainbow Dash (My Little Pony) Dorcas and Marlene (Marauders era) Robin and Chrissy (Stranger Things)

tags:

[whibleysims]

Dead Parents Club

[kamilah-is-queen]

Al Hayba- Sayeed’s (Pt. II)

Pt. I

Author’s Note: SPOILERS! Basically, in case this doesn’t make sense, is the Sayeed’s are an arms smuggling clan. They smuggle weapons through the Lebanese mountainside through land in their name, hence they are like a mafia. It’s unsafe for Amy to leave because their rivals have got wind of her being in town, and they plan to use Amy as a bargaining tool against the family. But, the Sayeed’s can’t just come out and say they are an illegal gang, so they try to keep it under wraps from Amy. Hope this helps!

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Amy Parker)

Warning: Violence

Tags: @ta-sayeed, @kamilahtopme, @nydeiri, @rhonda-sayeed, @helpconfusedpersonhere, @millasayeed, @vonda-be-real, @livvynka, @queenkamilah, @leenasayeed, @skylarkxxyy, @choicesgrp, @ilove-kamilah-sayeed, @justavampirefan, @iamsimpforpoppy, @friendlybuddy, @darlingnikki-prince

Everyone, including guards stepped out of their respective SUV’s upon their arrival at the cemetery. Amy helped her mother-in-law Nahid out of the car as Kamilah led the men in carrying the casket.

Amy watched as she held one corner of the casket on her shoulder, setting a swift walking pace towards the graveyard. Amy decided to walk behind the group to walk with Nahid, who walked briskly despite her old age thanks to her cane.

She decided it wasn’t the right time to question Nahid about the brunette, who she assumed was her daughter.

The burial was over quickly, everyone dispersing into their own respective groups to converse about Lysimachus.

Amy however, stayed at his grave. She bit her cheek hard as she began to cry, unable to hold her emotions back anymore. She cried into her hands to muffle the sobs, but it didn’t do any good.

She felt warm arms wrap around her gently, looking up to see a teary-eyed Mona.

‘It’s okay, he’s in a better place now.’ Mona’s voice smiled through her glossy eyes, wiping the tears off Amy’s cheeks as she began to calm.

‘That doesn’t make me any less selfish, I wish he didn’t have to leave me, alone.’ Amy sighed shakily, resting a bouquet of flowers on the raised dirt before taking a step back.

‘You aren’t alone, you have us. You’ll always have us no matter what it is that you need.’

‘Thank you, truly.’ Amy offered a subtle smile, leaning into Mona’s gentle, reassuring squeeze.

Back at home…

‘Amy, we should talk.’

She turned at the sound of her name, the brunette standing at a distance, sipping tea, her eyes on Amy.

Amy nodded silently, following her to a private living room. The brunette beckoned Amy to sit as she herself took a seat on the sofa, pouring Amy a small cup of tea. She only began speaking once Amy had taken a seat.

‘My name is Kamilah Sayeed, elder sister of your late husband. Despite my brother not mentioning us, we are all here to support and protect you as your family.’

Amy took a small sip of the tea, a wave of tranquility passing over her as she felt the hot liquid warm her insides.

‘Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality, but my daughter and I cannot stay much longer. Her school starts soon and I must return to work.’

Kamilah sipped from the small cup in her hand, staring at the picture hanging on the far wall. It was of her and Lysimachus in the mountains, both adorning hunting rifles with bright grins on their faces.

‘It is unsafe for you for return to Canada.’ Her sharp tone oozed through her words, prompting Amy to raise her eyebrows in confusion.

‘I don’t think I understand.’

Kamilah set down the cup and turned her head to look at Amy, a look of annoyance setting on her face.

‘There is no need for you to understand, but there is a need for you to listen.’

Amy frowned deeply, even more confused.

‘I can’t just put my life back in Canada on hold because I’ve come here, Kamilah.’ Her voice rose an octave as she became increasingly frustrated.

‘You wouldn’t be putting your life on hold, you’d be continuing it here. Excuse me.’

And with that, Kamilah left.

‘God she is so annoying.’ Amy grumbled, running her hands through her hair as she tried to make sense of her situation.

It kept her up at night, trying to find an answer as to why she couldn’t just go back to her normal life with Cam, despite Lysimachus being gone.

She sighed, deciding that coffee would sooth her pounding headache that resulted from all the overthinking.

Amy quietly got out of bed, careful not to disturb Cam. She tiptoed downstairs as everyone had retired in their rooms for the night.

Everyone, except one.

Amy jumped as she turned the corner, surprised to see Kamilah sitting in an armchair that faced the fireplace.

‘Oh! My god you scared me. I didn’t think anyone would be up.’

Kamilah remained silent as she focused on the item in her hand, the picture from earlier. Her finger stroked the image of Lysimachus’s face silently, clearly distracted by her own thoughts.

‘Would you like coffee?’ Amy asked, tilting her gaze towards Kamilah who dismissed her with a brief head shake.

Amy quickly returned with her mug, settling on the armchair beside Kamilah’s. She folded a blanket across her legs and hummed as the fire warmed her feet. ‘Cold night, isn’t it?’

Kamilah set the picture frame aside, leaning towards the fireplace to poke the logs. ‘Quite.’

Amy noticed how the bright orange embers of the fire reflected off of Kamilah’s deep brown eyes, the fire crackling softly as she watched the reflection of the flames rise the woman’s iris’s.

Kamilah sat back in the chair once more, pulling her black wool shawl tighter across her shoulders. ‘How long did you know Lysimachus?’

Amy tapped her chin with her finger, squinting her eyes as she thought.

‘Just shy of twelve years.’

Kamilah began to light her cigarette, her eyes still on the fire as she took a large puff.

‘And you loved him?’

Amy squeezed the mug a little tighter. ‘With everything in me. I would give anything to have him back.’

Kamilah simply nodded, blowing the smoke out from her nostrils. She raised a cigarette towards Amy, who shook her head.

‘I don’t smoke.’ Amy smiled, watching as Kamilah put the cigarette back in its case.

The pair sat in silence for minutes, the only sound that broke the silence was the occasional tick of a clock.

‘I don’t mean to be rude, but’ Amy bit her lip nervously before she continued ‘you’re awfully stoic, considering your brother has just passed sway.’

Kamilah inhaled from her cigarette again, exhaling deeply.

‘Everyone grieves differently.’

‘True, true.’ Amy resisted the urge to pinch herself. Why would she say something so stupid!?

‘Recalling fond memories of him lessens the pain for me, oddly enough.’

Amy sat up a little, clearly intrigued. ‘Can you tell me about that picture?’

Kamilah picked up the frame and handed it to Amy as she stubbed the end of her cigarette into the flame.

‘Lysimachus and I greatly enjoyed hunting, following in our father’s footsteps, he would say.’

Amy smiled as she gazed over the picture, ‘it looks beautiful.’ She handed the frame back to Kamilah, their fingers brushing briefly.

They both went quiet for a while longer before Kamilah stood, flicking her cigarette in the fire.

‘Get some rest, it’s late.’

Amy watched Kamilah walk off as she quietly said goodnight in response. It was late, and she was exhausted. She trudged her way back up to where Cam was sleeping and tucked in for the night.

But Kamilah didn’t plan on sleeping. No, she had business to take care of. She carefully set her shawl on the foot of her bed before quietly exiting the house.

Chahine straightened as she approached the car. ‘He’s in the warehouse, yes?’

‘Yes Kamilah.’

‘Then let’s go.’

They both entered the black GMC and drove away into the night, towards a warehouse miles into the Lebanese countryside.

Kamilah took a black pistol from the glove compartment of the car, tucking it in the holster at her hip as she exited the vehicle, with Chahine on her heels.

Inside, was a man suspended in the air by ropes that held his wrists together, a bloody cloth covering his mouth too.

His eyes widened at the sight of Kamilah as he wreathed, blood dripping from his shirt already. She rolled up the sleeves of her shirt, slowly making her way towards the man, knowing the suspense would kill him.

‘Well well well, if it isn’t the rat himself.’ She tugged the cloth off of his mouth as he began the beg for mercy.

She yanked the neck of his dirtied vest, making him grunt in pain as the ropes dig into his skin.

‘Listen to me closely, pig. You cannot pretend to join our clan, only to leak the location of our warehouses to our rivals, and then come begging for mercy.’

Kamilah cut the rope that suspended him, causing him to fall awkwardly on the stone floor. He scrambled to stand and run away but couldn’t as his legs were tied together.

She unholstered her gun and aimed at the man’s forehead.

‘I will make an example of you.’

At the last second, she aimed instead at his foot, firing the gun as she screamed in pain. Blood instantly began seeping from the wound, as she kneeled at his side.

‘Be a good boy and run off to your master now. And tell him who did this to you.’

She cut the ropes that bound his feet and watched as he limped off, hurriedly. Kamilah holstered the gun once more, nodding to Chahine as they left the warehouse.

She washed her hands in a stream nearby, wiping her hands on a towel that Chahine handed to her.

‘He handled that well, don’t you think?’ Chahine chuckled as soon as he uttered the words, prompting Kamilah to grin faintly.

‘Let’s see if he survives long enough to deliver the message.’

Soon enough, they were back at the villa. Kamilah thanked Chahine, despite him being her right hand man in all of her business affairs.

Once inside her room, Kamilah changed into her pajamas and settled into the thick covers of her bed. Dawn was fast approaching, so she’d only get a few hours of sleep. But that didn’t matter.

If there was one thing that Kamilah Sayeed valued more than her family, it was her business. And she would stop at nothing to uphold the Sayeed’s reputation regarding it.

[thatwritererinoriordan]

[gothicdouble]

The cruelest part is its introduction. Did you realize he killed her off? I didn’t. Who reads an introduction? But it is true. Right away, without ceremony, he undoes her. He anticipates any attempts on the part of her readers to help her, to free her, to resist the text by imagining her beyond its borders, by allowing her, perhaps, an adulthood. He withholds this—the great gift of any fiction—the margin beyond which characters may persist. Before we ever meet her, he nails her down in her coffin. The book is her tomb—she’s walled up in it. He knew what he was doing; he was no fool. He bricks her up with offhanded casualness in the masonry of the book. The only life she is allowed is the life he gives her. Dolly Hayes tries and tries to break through, she is a scintilla in the book, a bright rebellious flicker in the margins. But he is so tightfisted, so malicious—that he will not allow her to draw a single breath in another person’s imagination, let alone her own. I could almost forgive him, I could almost believe those moments when his narrator’s conscience pricks—his beautiful ironies of perspective; in the mournful and sharp fragments of her truth which he allows to break through—if he had only let her to live.

Amy Parker, “Kingdom by the Sea”

[missamyshay]

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Leverage S05E08 The Broken Wing Job.

[peachmangopie323]

Sonic Spiderverse AU

Might make more when I feel like it

[cowboylikeyouu]

get in loser, we‘re gonna read the new twitter fic chapter i just posted!!!

[sabrinasopposite]

afterglow (little women version)

prince!tom holland x march!reader

! this story is inspired by the book and movie; little women. Y/N is also inspired by Jo and Amy March, which also includes some quotes of them in this AU.

Summary: Y/N March, one of the sisters from the March family, is spending time alongside her father, who is working for the rightful king in London. She isn't like the glamorous girls who dream of meeting a prince at a ball; she is the kind of girl who loves archery and painting. She dedicates her time to giving lessons to the king's sons, though one of them proves to be a challenge. A challenge that Y/N didn't like.

As minutes passed, the entire ballroom became crowded with elegance and wealth, something that Y/N March couldn't claim. Nevertheless, her father was the right hand of the King, and they didn't suffer as much as the citizens in London who barely had enough food and clothing. Y/N lived in a house with warm meals and clothes, leading a normal life for a young lady. However, she never felt like a conventional lady or woman. 

She didn't fit into society's stereotype of a woman defined by love and elegance. Y/N considered herself a rebellious and boyish girl, much like her dresses, which lacked ladylike colors, and she often carried a bow with arrows on her back. She didn't want to marry merely for financial security that would ultimately belong to her husband; instead, she sought to live her own life and feel the freedom in her veins, and that's what archery represented for her.

Walking around the ballroom in a tight, darkened dress that emphasized her features made her feel like a vivid nightmare. The tight corset was uncomfortable, making her look constricted and ordinary. Her hair was braided, and she felt like a different person, but she knew deep down it was for her father. She wanted to make a good impression on the Holland family and her father, although no one had to know her true feelings or thoughts about the Holland family.

The room echoed with laughter, the clinking of champagne glasses, and classical music from the instruments played in the background. Y/N's eyes scanned the room for sympathy or interest, but nothing appealed to her; it was just another dull night. Leaning against the wall, she delicately brushed her dress with her hand.

"I see Mrs. March all formally dressed up. For what occasion, if I may ask?" The accent teased her ears, and she looked up to meet Harry's gaze. He smiled softly at her, hands clasped behind his back. Y/N's unbothered expression transformed into a beautiful bright smile. "Oh, Harry, I'm so glad you're here." "Of course, I'm here. It's my father's ball! It would be weird if his son disappeared." The two strolled slowly and calmly around the room. 

"Unless his son stuck his face in a book or in the kitchen for some pastries." Y/N playfully poked her elbow into his arm, and he laughed heartily. "Hey, it was one time! What do you expect of me, not to sneak around for some Victoria Sponge?" "You could have waited like everyone else, but lucky you... you're friends with me, and I stole it for you." Y/N grinned as she stopped to look at him. 

Harry was the only boy in the world of royalty that Y/N liked. He was different, just like her. He didn't care about the world as much as Thomas did, blindly following his father. Maybe it was because Thomas was the oldest son yet behaved like the youngest. Harry was more into science, the history of the world, or interested in the cultures of other countries that he would love to visit one day. Sam was the one who was more observant and calm, keeping to himself. That's what Y/N noticed.

He would sneak around the castle, just to cook or bake something in the middle of the night to give it the next day to the people in the streets who were yearning for it. It was Sam’s hidden secret that Y/N found out but gladly helped deliver the food that Sam made. If his father found out what Sam was doing, he would be in trouble, something that Y/N didn't want to put Sam through.

"Thanks to you, Archer. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be friends with you?" Harry grinned. "Your brother?" Y/N raised her brow. "Sam? That's nonsense. I thought you guys are friendly together, and Paddy likes you as well. Do I need to remind you how his face was when he saw you in archery?" Harry folded his arms, and Y/N chuckled. He looked handsome in his navy blue suit that matched his brown curls. "I am not talking about them; I am talking about your brother who stood me up on his, and may I repeat, his lesson." "Classic Thomas." 

"That's what I am thinking too.’’ ,,Maybe you should confront him, Y/N. I mean, how many times has he stood you up?" Harry asked with a calm yet disappointed voice. He didn't understand why Thomas behaved like that in front of Y/N. "I lost count a while ago. May I remind you that it was your father—the King's decision and kind request—that Thomas would take archery lessons?" "Yeah, to move his ass around and not sip champagne all day and put his face between brea-"

"Harry?!" Y/N's eyes widened in shock as she heard how Harry bragged about his older brother. "You shouldn't say such things about your brother. Maybe I am allowed to say that, but he is still your brother." Y/N glanced at Harry and noticed how his jaw was tensed and his fists were formed together.

"I don't like how he treats you, Y/N. You are my friend, and I really appreciate what your father does for our family. You take time to teach us archery, painting, and all that. You don't do it on purpose; you do it because it is your passion, and that's why I appreciate you as a person."

Y/N's eyes met his, and her heart warmed. She didn't hear it regularly—a praise or empathy over her ideals or interests. People judged her for that. She wasn't the stereotype, and that was something people hated. She was a beautiful girl who was intelligent and remarkable, even a people pleaser. But she wasn't the woman everyone wanted; that's what she thought. "Thank you, Harry." Her attention was snapped when she heard loud laughter from behind; Harry's eyes were fixed on the person lying on the couch, arms wrapped around two ladies covered in beauty and elegance.

His hand held a champagne glass, and he chuckled his charms out. Y/N stared at him, Thomas. Her heart was beating low, and her gaze was fixed on him. How can someone so handsome have such a low personality?

"Go talk to him. I'll look for my Victoria Sponge," Harry pushed Y/N's shoulders while she muttered his name. He walked away, leaving Y/N alone, so she walked over to him.

"Prince Thomas," Y/N said with a sour yet venomous voice, her stare fixed on his behavior. His hair was messed up, and his jacket was open; he looked disheveled, not properly put together. His glance hinted that he was tipsy from the champagne he held in his hand. His attention was on Y/N, his eyes wide. She looked different and beautiful in his eyes, as she always was, but now he saw her as ladylike, and his heart raced.

Thomas composed himself, sitting properly and speaking with a charming, bleary voice. „Y/N." 

"I waited hours for you."

"I don't recall inviting you for a dance," he chuckled, signaling the ladies to walk away, presumably to bring him more champagne. Y/N watched the ladies pass with observing glances that felt like daggers on her back. She rolled her eyes and turned away from Thomas and his childish words. As she walked away, he stood up and almost ran after her. "Y/N, wait!“ "Do you want to know what I honestly think of you?"

"What do you think?" Thomas walked after her, realizing every word she spoke was filled with honesty and stung like arrows. "I despise you.“

He laughed it off, as usual. "Why do you despise me? Just because I missed a lesson? Come on, that's nothing.“ "Because with every chance to be good, useful, and happy, you are faulty, lazy, and-" As Y/N listed his faults, her tones grew harsher and deeper. He chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, this is interesting."

"Oh yes, very interesting. Selfish people do love to talk about themselves.“ "Oh, now I'm selfish? Do I need to remind you of who you ta-"

"Yes, you are very selfish." Y/N scoffed at Thomas's drunk and childish behavior, despite being the next king of England, not behaving like it. "With your money, talent, beauty, and health." Thomas interrupted her again, pinning his jacket together drunkenly. They didn't realize they were in the midst of people, solely focused on each other. "Oh, my beauty?" Thomas questioned.

"Ah, you like that, you old vanity. With all these good things to enjoy, you can find nothing to do but dawdle your way." Y/N finished her berating, but Thomas drunkenly placed his hand over hers. "I promise I'll be good for you, Archer Y/N. I'll come to your lessons now, Master!" He mocked his voice, making fun of her as usual.

"Aren't you ashamed of a hand like that, Prince Thomas?" Y/N spoke with a disgusted voice and glance.

"No, I'm not." He replied with a self-confident aura. "It looks like it's never done a day of work in its life." She pulled her hand harshly away and looked at him. "I don't understand why you react like that, little March, hmm?“ "To give you some words in your brain instead of that stupid champagne that you sip around and act like this occasion is for you.“ "Which certainly is.“ "It is from the king personally, which you aren't."

"I will be one day, and you will be under my rules," Thomas smirked. Y/N looked into his eyes and shook her head. "I feel really sorry for the people in London, having a king who behaves like a child and doesn't value the things around his life."

"You are just saying that because you're a girl who has nothing and is not loved by a man." Thomas chuckled, making Y/N frown in surprise and a little pain. "You are right, but I'd rather be respected for who I am, even if I couldn't be loved." She turned around and walked out from the crowd towards the exit of the ballroom.

♡

The next morning was calmness flying in dust around the castle, the ball was over and the guest were gone. Toms head ached from a dozen bubbly champagne glasses, and he felt his throat was swollen. He could barely open his eyes through the exhaustion, but he knew that any minute his butler would come in and suggest a fresh, warm breakfast. He got up from his king-sized bed, walked over to the shiny window, and looked at the scenery in front of him—the blooming garden of colorful flowers.

A knock on the door caught his attention, and as he turned around, he saw his butler walking inside. "Prince Thomas, you are awake?" "Yeah, I kind of woke up from the sunshine," he chuckled. "Indeed, it is a beautiful daylight. Nevertheless, your father proposed breakfast for you." "I'll be there in minutes," he nodded with a calm glance at his butler.

The breakfast was delicious, as always; that's what Thomas couldn't complain about. He looked around the room and noticed that his brothers weren't present. "Where are Sam, Harry, and Paddy?" Tom glanced at his father, who was reading with focus on the developments that James offered him. They were invitations to galas, conferences about other kingdoms, or updates on affairs in London. King Dominic looked up to his son, "Around the castle, engaged in their usual activities—something you should participate in, Thomas."

Tom rolled his eyes and mumbled between his sentences, "Do you have anything else to brag about, Father?" "Did you say something?" "No, sir. I'll get myself ready for my archery lesson." "Miss March is giving Paddy his art teachings. I don't think it's your turn for archery today, Thomas," his father pointed out sternly. Tom looked at him and nodded.

It wasn't like Tom despised his father; on the contrary, he loved him. Yet, sometimes, he felt like people expected too much of him. He knew he would be the future king of London, and he realized he often boasted about himself, showcasing only his best side. However, no one saw the real him—the genuine thoughts and feelings he drowned in champagne and partying.

Thomas made his way around the castle and reached the art room. His hand brushed the doorknob, and something paused inside his body. A sudden nervousness rushed through his bloodlines. Was it because of the small fight between him and Y/N? He remembered it vividly. He even knew exactly what he did after she walked out of the ballroom, and how his hands landed on the champagne bottles until his brothers took them away from him.

He felt ashamed of the words he said to her, truly. Now, the realization that she might never talk to him again made it even harder for him to confront his actions. Nevertheless, as he opened the door, expecting hell, he found himself in heaven.

His eyes met the random paintings on canvases, beautifully painted in soft colors. Paddy was sitting next to Y/N, who wore a casual dress that wasn't as tight as last night. Her hair was loosely open, not in a stern high braided bun. She felt like herself—authentic. That's what Tom thought as he observed her. 

Paddy turned his head around, locking eyes with Tom, and his smile brightened even more. "Look, brother! Y/N taught me how to draw our garden with the dozen of flowers!" Paddy was so proud and happy, something Tom couldn't relate to as he felt like a failure. "It looks great, Pads," Tom smiled calmly, but his smile dropped slightly when he noticed Y/N's stare. It was obvious—the "why are you still here" stare.

Y/N cleared her throat and placed her soft hand on Paddy's shoulder. "That was enough for today, Paddy. I hope you enjoyed the day as much as I did." "Yes, it was very delightful with you. I can't wait for our next session!" Paddy laughed with excitement, grabbing the canvas and rushing out of the room to show it to their father. Now, it was just Tom and her alone.

Y/N turned her back toward Tom, starting to clean the small atelier. "What are you doing here?" Her sentence was short and harsh, not soft and calm like before. Tom sighed and touched some stacked canvases with his fingers. "Y/N, I'm sorry for how I behaved." "Have you been drinking again? It doesn't suit you to apologize to an ordinary girl." She walked around the atelier, avoiding all around Tom. She placed the brushes and paintings away, mirroring the way she was avoiding her feelings.

"No, I'm not. I still have a headache from last night, so please don't be hard on me," Tom said as he looked at her. "Well, someone has to do it or not?" she stopped and looked at him. There was a small silence between them until Y/N continued to clean up, "I talked with your father. I won't give you any archery lessons anymore."

Tom's eyes widened. "What? Why?" „because I'm a failure," Y/N stated, avoiding the worried yet shocking glance of Tom. "Jo is in New York being a writer, and I am a failure." "Well, that's harsh to say when you are talented and have so much energy," Tom stated, and Y/N turned around to face him directly in the eyes.

"Talent isn't genius, Thomas. And no amount of energy can make it so. I want to be great, or nothing." Her voice felt flat and harsh for Y/N. She loved art and archery, two things that made her feel herself. Archery made her feel alive, like no one stood in her way. Art was someone she could talk to, a medium to express her thoughts and emotions. ,,I don’t see the point to do the things that aren’t archiving my hopes and dreams while being a women.’’ 

,,What makes you think that Women with dreams cant achieve things?’’ Thomas asked with curiosity. ,,You really ask me that?’’ Y/N frowned her eyebrows. ,,yeah I am asking you that. What women are allowed into the club of geniuses considering you are saying that talent isn’t genius?’’ Thomas walked to a chair and sit himself down on it, not breaking the intimate eye contact of Y/N. 

,,maybe the Brontes? I don’t know.’’ Y/N cleaned her fingers with a tissue. ,,Hm standing a point but who declares whose a genius?’’ ,,Men, I suppose.’’ ,,They’re cutting down the competition. If you may ask’’ ,,Look Thomas I don’t know why you want to have this complicated topic with me.’’

,,i just want to find a way to reasoning with you. I don’t understand why you view yourself like that, you are talen-„ ,,How does it matter anyway? Soon or later I will marry one day a man, who provides the money. One day I will let go of all the things I like because I need to be in the role of a mother.’’ Y/N looks at Thomas with a glance, a glance that Tom noticed how aching it is for her. She knew she said the truth but she didn’t want to acknowledge it. ,,But what is marriage if there is no love in it?’’ Tom looked at her, with eyes that were trapping her.

,,Well, I believe we have some power over who we love, it isn’t something that just happens to a person.’’ Y/N throws the tissue away ,,I think that poets and books disagree on that.’’ Tom stated with confidence and calmness. 

Y/N stared at him, he was just a man. He could say these things but he will never know how it is to be a woman. 

,,Well. I’m not a poet, I’m just a woman. Even though people don’t consider me as a woman, because I don’t fit in the picture of the societies eye, I am still a woman. And as a woman there is no way for me to make my own money or to earn a living or to support my family. Don’t get me wrong I am lucky to be under a warm house with clothes, because my father works his body out for the King, to give me that opportunity to live. Even if I had my own money, which I don’t, that money would belong to my husband the moment we got married. And If we had children they would be his, not mine. They would be his property. So don’t sit there and tell me that marriage isn’t an economic proposition, because it is. It may not be for you because you are the son of the King of London, but it most certainly is for me.’’ 

Her eyes felt sad, the words she said came out of her deepest heart and she hold her fingers together to reduce the nervous tendency. In her voice Tom felt the acceptance of her life, he could tell that these words that Y/N just told him were words that implanted to every woman that was breathing on earth. 

,,now if you excuse me, I have to go to the library’’ Y/N walked away from Thomas and took her small vest that was laid on her chair. She wrapped it around herself until Tom spoke with a light and calm voice. ,,the things I said yesterday night weren’t meant to be told, I am sorry about that. And I as well feel sorry for the way how you see yourself.’’ Y/N looked with a conflicted eye contact at Thomas but the sudden warm feeling that embraced the words of him on her made her feel calm. ,,I know this sounds hideous but would you allow me to follow you to the library?’’ 

,,you don’t need to sound so formale in front of me Thomas.’’ She chuckled softly.

,,then you don’t need to call me Thomas, it makes me feel old.’’ His face grimaced by the name.

,,so Tommy?’’ She raised her brow.

,,Tom would be alright’’

(its a very old AU that I wrote last December and man... I had to release it)

[pixelartparker]

hi! I was wondering if you'd be able to do one of Bibi from the manwha "I love Amy"? If so, then thank you so much! I just love Bibi's design so much aaaaaaaaa

For sure ^^ I ended up centering the palette around pink because I think it really fits her style! I had a lot of fun with this!

I hope you like it :)

Suggestions, tips, and requests are welcome!!! I don't do any NSFW but I'll create for any fandom. Feel free to use this for something if you want. A like, reblog, or follow if you do would be appreciated!

~Parker

[ace-of-garlic-breads]

#ttsmchristmasprompts day 3: Cookies this is like, my first time ever drawing Amy... help.

[whibleysims]

When times got tough, Richard let his guitar do the talking -- a habit he picked up in his teen years. He had a lot on his mind to work through, and exams were at the bottom of that list.

"Rich?"

He almost didn't hear her over the wail of his guitar, but a reflex kicked in when Amy called his name.

"Thank god, I think I'm legit going crazy!"

"What's wrong?"

Amy walked right past him with a dramatic sigh. "Where do I begin," she said.

Come on in, thought Richard. This won't be awkward at all.

He listened to her go on about nearly everything wrong in her life at the moment; starting with exams, then life after university anxiety, her mother's second wedding that she was against, how her brother blew her off about it, and finally ending with how she feels like the last person still mourning her dead father.

Rich replied to her rant with a big puff of air through his lips.

"That's it? That's all you have to say?"

He shrugged. "Uhh--"

"No, you're right. I deserve this."

"Amy--"

"I'm alone!"

"You're not alone. You have, uh--"

"Exactly."

"You didn't let me finish," he said as he sat next to her. "I was going to say, you have Max."

She frowned.

"And me, too," he offered.

"I haven't seen you around much lately. I didn't know you even knew about me and Max."

"Word gets 'round."

"I've been a bad friend. Why on earth did you let me drone on and on about my stupid problems then?"

"I like hearing you talk," he shrugged with a grin.

"That just makes me feel worse."

"Okay, what about I'm so sick of studying that I'd rather hear you complain for two days straight then look at another textbook."

"That's better," she chuckled a little.

"I guess I should--" Amy scratched her head and released a sigh. "I don't know what I should do."

"Go for a walk? Clear your head?"

"Yeah, that might help."

"You don't have to go, you could stay here," Richard regretted saying that immediately.

"No, I should probably go. I've wasted enough of your precious procrastination time."

"But I wanna hear you complain, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Hey, are you going to graduation?" she asked.

"Yeah, my dad wants pictures," Richard rolled his eyes.

"You should come with me and Max!"

"I don't know."

"We'll go as a threesome, it'll be fun."

"Threesome?" he raised a brow.

"Will you think about it?"

"Yeah, sure, I'll think about it."

[cinepughs]

starring florence pugh and andrew garfield ✰ we live in time (2024) dir. by john crowley

[amyriadofproblems]

This is a tribute to all the celebrities who take up major real estate in my brain and also my camera roll

[cannonball5]

Trying to figure out what kind of ships I like and…honestly I got nothing. They’re all so wildly different in type and personality, I’m not sure. Using the ships I’ve thought about most recently. Anyone see any similarities I’m missing?