#god forbid women aspire to anything | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bearielfdancer · 3 years

Text

A new Legacy Challenge

The Grecian Mythology Legacy Challenge

Synopsis: Before there were what we call the modern gods and goddesses of today from Mount Olympus, or The Olympians, there were those that came before them. Like every story, it has its origins. Gaea, birthed from Chaos, and Ouranus, birthed from Gaea, who then began to create their own legacy. In this Legacy Challenge, you will tell the story of the gods and goddesses from it’s very core to what it is today, from Gaea to Zeus and his many, many children.

Getting Started/Rules:

Disclaimer: For the purposes of this challenge,we’re just going to start out with Gaea and Ouranos as there are MANY MANY children born from Chaos and Gaea, followed by Ouranos and Gaea, and that is just too much time and energy spent. CC and Mods are also very much welcomed!

It would very much help to start a New Game, and by creating your sims. They must be married and of the opposite gender. Gaea=Mother Earth and Ouranos=The Father/Starry Sky. They may look however you please, if you have the Expansion Pack Get To Work, they can be aliens, if you have The Game Packs Realm of Magic, Vampires. You are very much welcome to make them into Mages or Vampires, the choice is up to you! If you have seasons you may start in any season you see fit.

After you are done creating your founders, you MUST move them into Newcrest on the biggest Lot which should be Twin Oracle Point. (It even sounds mythological XD). If you want more of a challenge try living Off-Grid.

You may not have any kind of job as you are just starting out, so in order to make your living wages you may:

Fish

Garden

Paint

Wood Working

Sculpting

And sell Collectibles (anything found)

Generation alpha : The Creation

Gaea, also known as mother earth, very much loved her children, too bad Ouranos didn’t feel the same and locked them all away to never be seen again… supposedly…

Gaea:

* Career: None

* Aspiration: The Freelance Botanist

* Traits

* Loves Outdoors

* Family Oriented

* Mean

Ouranos/Uranus:

* Career: None

* Aspiration: The Curator Aspiration

* Traits

*Hates Children

* Ambitious

* Perfectionist

Game Play:

All aspirations must be completed before the generation is over

Max out Mischief Skill

Max out Sculpting

Max out Gardening

Max out Herbalism (if Outdoor retreat is owned)

Home/Building:

You must start your build as a single hut and grow from there, limited to garden decor, but not exclusive to plumbing, lighting, and cooking.

Basement must be built… for obvious reasons

Children:

You can have as many children as you’d like but the main focus is Cronos.

Once Cronus is of age, he may start looking for his “Rhea”

Succession:

When Ouranos/Uranus is an elder he must fight with his son Cronos and be banished from the lot. (You can get creative with this or just have him move out)

This will end Generation alpha with Cronus taking over.

Generation Beta: The Creation 2

Just like his father before him Cronos found out through the prophecies that one of his children will overthrow him and become ruler, Rhea is not pleased by this and devises a plan just like her mother (in law) before her. You may start to have jobs/careers this generation

Cronos:

* Career: Criminal

* Aspiration: Public Enemy

* Traits

* Hot-Headed

* Hates Children

* Glutton

Spouse:

Must Have:

AT LEAST family oriented trait

Game Play:

All Aspirations must be completed before this generation is over

Max out Mischief Skill

Max out Fitness/Wellness

Home/Building:

Keep the basement from the previous generation

You are no longer restricted to just garden decor

No Modern Decor

Children:

Like his father before him, Cronos and Rhea should have Zeus’s siblings first, then Zeus. Have Zeus be sent off to live with some mages (if you have Realm of Magic) or make a foster family. And never have contact with him again until he is a teenager (You may switch back and forth between the households)

Zeus may start to look for his “Hera”

Succession:

Like the previous Generation once Cronos is an old man who fights with his son (teenage) Zeus multiple times. Cronos then dies from exhaustion or anger (you can cheat this) and Zeus takes over.

This will end generation Beta with Zeus succeeding his Father.

Generation Gamma: A New Age and Ruler

Once Cronos is out of the picture for good, Zeus can marry his beloved sweetheart Hera. But, he can keep his adulterous ways to himself, right... right?

Zeus

* Career: Astronaut

* Aspiration: Serial Lover

* Traits:

* Romantic

* Family-Oriented

* Non-Committal

Spouse:

Must Have:

AT LEAST Jealousy trait

Gameplay:

As a toddler and child max out almost if not all skills and

Must have fulfilled serial romantic aspiration and have as many kids and lovers as possible

Get caught cheating

Must reach level 10 in the Astronaut career

Max out Charisma Skill

Max out Fitness Skill

Max out Logic Skill

Home/Building:

Get rid of the basement, it’s no longer needed.

Children:

Have four children with Hera (Ares, Hebe, Eileithya, and Hephaestus(by Hera cheating on Zeus))

Have Athena (different woman)

Have Apollo and Artemis (twins and different woman)

Have Persephone (different woman)

Have Aphrodite (different woman)

Have Hermes (different woman)

Have Heracles(Greek)/Hercules(Roman) (different woman)

Have Perseus (different woman)

By the end of this generation, you should have 12 kids in total. (This is also where things get tricky. Pick a number 1-9 and you will have to play that child’s legacy or you stick to the route I’ve provided!)

Generation Delta: The God of War

Ares never did have the proper love he wanted from his father and mother, as he was constantly being outshone by his dear sister Athena; and as a result he grew bitter, and began to tread down a dark path, knowing that nobody had truly cared what he did… all except one.

Ares

* Career: Secret Agent

* Aspiration:Public Enemy

* Traits

* Mean

* Hot-Headed

* Loner

Spouse:

Never marry but have a girlfriend move in with you

Gameplay

As a toddler have the independent trait

Reach minimum skill level for toddler

Reach level 10 in the Secret Agent Career (Villain Route)

Max out in Mischief

Go to War (The Trojan War via cowplant OR if you have Strangerville The Mother Plant)

Make as many enemies as possible

Have your family despise you

Make AT LEAST three friends

Children

Harmonia

Deimus and Phobos

Eros

This will end generation Delta, which leaves you one of two options, You can choose Eros’s route or Harmonia.

Generation Epsilon: Eros, God of Love

You are Eros, God of Love, taking after your mother. Growing up you could see why the rest of the family despised your father and made a vow to never turn out like him, unlike your two brothers.

Eros:

* Career:Freelancer

* Aspiration: Soulmate

* Traits

* Romantic

* Art Lover

* Perfectionist

Gameplay

As a toddler have the charmer trait

You are your mother’s baby boy, max out in everything

As a child have a crush on your best friend (Psyche)

Your mother and crush dislike each other

Your mother forbids you from seeing your Crush and you have to hide yourself in a bear suit until you are a young adult

Have an argument with your mother and secretly elope with your best friend/lover and move out and live happily ever after.

Generation Epsilon pt. 2: Harmonia, Goddess of Concord and Harmony

Like your brother before you, you came to quickly realize why your father was despised by everyone he ever came across, and was doted on by your mother as to distract from how terrible your father was… but will this come back to bite you in the butt?

Harmonia

* Career: Law

* Aspiration: Friend of The World

* Traits:

* Bookworm

* Neat

* Good

Children:

Ino

Polydorus

Autonoe

Agave

Semelee

Illyrius

Gameplay

As a toddler have the charmer trait

Max out every skill as a toddler and most skills as a child

Have 5 friends as a child

Have 10 friends as a teen

You fall in love with your childhood crush Cadmus

As a young adult/adult marry Cadmus

Inherit an heirloom (it can be a misc. Decoration item)

Choose a negative lot trait, this lot trait will be passed down from generation to generation.

Generation Van: Semelee

You are Semelee, and just like our mother you followed in her footsteps to work in law enforcement.

Semelee:

* Career: Law

* Aspiration: Big Happy Family

* Traits

* Gloomy (this is because of the heirloom, and lot trait)

* Good

* Ambitious

Gameplay

Have Logic skill level 1

Max out cooking

Max out Gardening

Get pregnant

Die after having child (you can cheat this)

Generation Van pt. 2: Dionysus

Dionysus

Career: Actor (if you have Get Famous)

Entertainment Career

Aspiration: Party Animal

Traits:

* Romantic

* Materialistic

* Bro

Gameplay

As a toddler, have the wild trait

Host a party every sim week

Create a club with nothing but women (if you have Get Together)

Max out in Gardening

Max out in Charisma

Max out in Cooking

Have your mother come back to life

Die by Cowplant

Have your mother bring you back to life

While partying one night you fall in love with a beautiful woman

I worked really hard on creating my own Legacy challenge, as I’ve been super into Greek Mythology as of late. I sincerely hope you guys enjoy this short, but very fulfilled Legacy Challenge

#Grecian Mythology Legacy Challenge #GMLC #BearieSIMple #TS4 #thesims4 #sims #sims 4 #The Sims #maxis match #basegame #basegame compatible #sims4challenges #challenge #ts4legacy #origin: bearielfdancer

37 notes · View notes

thevampirearcher-md · 2 years

Note

Saw your post on abortions in Romania, and honestly.

I've heard all that and more from my grandparents. And it was even just at home abortions that led to that misery -- they didn't do anything about stillborns or miscarriages either.

It's terrifying that that we are nearing something like that in fucking 2022.

Yeah, those were all stories that I've heard from my family and my patients.

I will never forget this one patient who told us how she was rushed to the hospital after she had an abortion, done by a doctor but still in unsanitary conditions (I mean, you barely got sanitary enough conditions back then in actual hospitals) and 72 hours later she was half dead. All because she was poor and she already had three or four children to raise.

This is one of the reasons why I'm so passionate about this. The other is that I know a fair amount about obstetrics and gynaecology now and like ...

One of the doctors in the hospital where I did my rotation told us that she once had two Fillipino (this is the inexact part, I think that's where they were from but I'm not 100% sure) told her that in their country you cannot perform any first trimester D&E or aspiration, not even for a miscarriage. To prevent elective abortions.

Miscarriages bleed like crazy. Miscarriages are not always complete. Sometimes the embryo is dead and doesn't evacuate on its own. Sometimes parts of it remain and they can get infected or lead to a complication called DIC (which basically means that you're bleeding all over your body). Treatment for these problems is also endangered with this ruling.

I'm not a specialist, just a medical school graduate, however Mama Doctor Jones, who you can find both on YT and Instagram is a Texas-born OB-GYN who has made some amazing and very informative videos about all this.

All of the people talking about the murder of "children" are off their rocker. They're embryos during the first trimester, literally buried in the uterine lining, they're that small, then fetuses until birth. Children have been born. ALIVE. If they're willing to impose such horrors on women, God forbid their children are born female.

#abortion ban #anon #asks #this is a real life horror #and some people are actually happy about it #it disgusts me

5 notes · View notes

dameafterdark · 4 years

Text

Fanning the Flames [Roy Mustang x Black Femme Reader]

CW: workplace sex, oral sex, vaginal penetration, blow job, body worship, pubic hair, making out, light femdom, tickling, enthusiastic consent, boss/employee relationship, semi-public sex, porn with plot, BBW reader

WARNING! The contents of this fic are NSFW! Read at your own risk!

word count: 5769

summary: After transferring to Central Command, you’re determined not to let a certain smooth-talking colonel distract you from your job duties.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You never could have imagined meeting a man like him when you walked through the doors of Central Command. But then again, trivial things like infatuation and love making were the last thing on your mind. Bright eyed and eager to impress, what mattered most to you were your ambitions. You didn’t have time to fool around with romance; a cushy job in Central was everything you could have hoped for as a fairly new recruit. And besides, the higher ups didn’t look too kindly upon fraternizing.

You had heard of the twenty-something aspiring general long before you sent in your letter of acceptance, but didn't think much of him. You learned long ago not to get involved with military gossip, especially the kind that involved sleazeballs like him. You know, the type of man that flirted with anything on two legs with a pretty face. You barely liked guys on a good day, so you were certain you’d have no trouble rejecting his advances. Lay low and work hard was the motto you repeated to yourself every morning as you ironed your uniform.

Unfortunately, your name was on everyone’s lips before you had the chance to introduce yourself. It couldn’t have been avoided, and you were naive to think it could. Being the only non-native Amestrian in the Central forces was mostly to blame, but you figured your looks also had something to do with your sudden popularity. After all, you were below average height, and your round curves rivaled the thin waifish figures of most Amestrian women. It definitely wasn’t the “ideal” body of a soldier, but that never stopped you in the past. Your brown skin, head full of tight curls, and full lips were impossible for others to ignore. You demanded attention whenever you entered a room, whether you wanted it or not.

And as soon as the two of you made acquaintances, you knew something was bound to happen eventually.

From the moment he uttered that first sultry “Hello” and took your gloved hand in his, kissing the back of it like he was some sort of prince out of a fairy tale, your heart decided on its feelings faster than your brain could process. He pushed the knife in deeper with a little coy smirk that made your breath hitch and your stomach tighten.

“(Y/N), at your service,” you stated, doing your best to hide the tremor in your voice. “It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Colonel Mustang.”

“Please,” he said as he let go of your hand, his eyes never leaving your own. “Call me Roy.”

Those four little words sparked the first ember, and from then on you walked with fire in your chest and heat pressed against your cheeks. And no matter how often you dampened those flames, they always reignited into an inferno.

You weren't the one to give into your primal urges, though. You were a professional, for God’s sake, and after clawing your way up through the ranks you’d be damned to throw away years of hard work for a pair of bedroom eyes. Especially when so many others only saw your job offer as an Affirmative Action-esque handout.

It’s not worth it, you’d mumble under your breath while sorting through piles of paperwork, doing your best to avoid meeting the colonel’s gaze as he sat across the room from you. Knowing what might transpire if you did. For weeks you daydreamed about making that connection with those steely grey eyes that followed your shapely figure wherever you walked, most likely imagining what was underneath. Truthfully, you wanted him to want you. You desired to be desired by the man that tossed out flirtatious remarks right after another, remarks you pretended to hate yet secretly made you giddy. Steely eyed with a boyish charm, he was 100% your type. And you had no idea what to do about it.

At first, you resisted him under the pretense of “work professionalism” and your “commitment to duty”. Sure, you'd play with him a little every now and then just to watch him squirm. Pursing your lips in the shape of a kiss whenever you caught him staring, bending over with the right side showing after “accidentally” dropping something in front of him, giving him a peek at the black skin tight crop top you wore in lieu of a bra whenever you stretched your arms.

And he'd respond by taking every opportunity to get close to you. Like placing a hand on your waist whenever he moved past you and letting it linger a few seconds longer than it should have, or coming up behind you to whisper something in your ear until goosebumps lined your spine.

“Your uniform is looking pristine today, (Y/N),” he complimented you one day after you dropped off another pile of urgent documents on his desk. “But I know something that will look better on you.”

You rolled your eyes in response, but decided to humor him.

“And what would that be, sir?”

“Me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you made your leave. Sure, it was predictable, but it was earnest, and the more desperate he got the more it amused you.

It was all in good fun, at least in the beginning. But after the first couple months, you could sense his growing agitation as each day passed. His movements became strained, his eyes hungrier, his muscles more tense. One day, as you sat at the edge of his desk with your ass just inches away from his hand, you could visibly see him clench his fist as if fighting against an insatiable urge. The sight gave you a rush of power unlike any other.

By the end of your three month mark, the entire department was making bets on when the two of you would finally hook up. Which became a nuisance in the eyes of one person in particular.

That’s right, it wasn’t just your position you had to worry about. Although most of the other military members were quite welcoming to you on that first day, First Lieutenant Hawkeye was the exception. She gave meaning to the phrase “if looks could kill”. Sure, you pretended not to notice the daggers she shot in your direction every time you dared to banter with the roguishly handsome colonel, but that didn’t make it any less intimidating. However, you were no stranger to workplace rivalry, especially in the military. No blondie was going to run you out, not after you worked your ass off to get there.

All of your resolve, however, was put to the test one fateful Friday evening.

Central Command was nearly empty. The rest of the officers had gone home for the day (or were sent home, in Hawkeye’s case, but you didn’t find that out until much later). Apart from a few stragglers hanging around in the hallways, you were pretty much the only one left… apart from him, of course. You’d only been there for a few months, so you had taken every opportunity to build your reputation as a workaholic, refusing to go home unless ordered to. You were hoping it would show your diligence and dedication to the right people. You could practically taste the promotion, you just had to hang in there a little longer. If you could resist the colonel for another few months, you’d be a shoe in. You just knew it.

You headed towards his office to drop off one last pile of paperwork. One he was certain to ignore until the following week, but at least it would’ve been out of your hands and his responsibility. You gave the door a quiet, yet firm knock with the back of your knuckles and waited for permission to enter.

“Come in,” he crooned, his voice sounding more alluring than authoritative.

You opened the door slowly, clutching the thick pile against your chest before heading inside. When it closed behind you, you clicked your ankles together and gave your colonel a firm salute.

“At ease,” He said off-handedly, placing the file he had in hand onto his desk. You heard him crunching on something, most likely one of those peppermints he always kept by the phone. He focused his rigid eyes onto you, clasping his hands together to form a small tent for his chin to rest on.

“The paperwork you requested, sir,” You gave a staunch reply, hoping to hide the nervous butterflies that suddenly began to flutter about in your belly. Ah, what was it about that look in his eye that made you feel so skittish? It wasn’t so intimidating when there were people around, but now that you were finally alone...

“I told you, there’s no need for these formalities when it’s just the two of us.”

“With all due respect, this was how I was trained. Sir,” You put extra emphasis on that last title and flashed him a cheeky grin, knowing how much he loved hearing you call him that. It did something to you, seeing his breath hitch and his grip tighten. If he was attempting to hide his arousal, he was doing a pretty shoddy job.

“Were you also trained to put in 12 hour days without clearance?”

Welp. He got you there. So much for all that overtime pay. Not like it would've been approved by HR, anyway.

“...No, sir. But you asked to have these forms done by the end of the week, and I promised to follow through.”

The colonel raised an eyebrow in amusement, not bothering to show restraint as he looked you up and down. The way his eyes were devouring you was enough to make you question all your morals.

“Or maybe you were just looking for an excuse to get me alone.”

You felt your face heat up at his comment, which only got worse when he flashed that usual shit eating grin of his.

“And what if I was?”

“Then I’d forbid you from working so hard and offer to take you out instead.”

You blinked a few times in disbelief, unsure how to interpret his words.

“...What?”

“You’re still pretty new to Central, aren’t you? You’ve been working so much, I doubt you’ve gotten the chance to really explore the city. I could be your tour guide.”

“Are you…?”

“Asking you out? Affirmative.”

Your lips parted in shock, then formed into a grin as the corners of your lips crept up.

“Isn’t that a bit inappropriate, colonel?”

“It could be. But only if you wanted that.”

“Sir.”

“Please, (Y/N), I said call me Roy. We’re close enough now, aren’t we?”

“...Roy,” his first name was unfamiliar on your tongue, yet rolled off like smooth silk. It felt odd to call your superior out of his title, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t excite you.

“Yes?”

“Your offer is tempting, but I’ll have to decline. I can’t risk losing my position.”

“Who has to know?”

“People talk, you know.”

“Then let's give them something to talk about.”

It was corny, but genuine. You could tell he was really trying, perhaps as an attempt to live up to his womanizer reputation. It made you wonder if that was all an act.

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you come here and find out.”

Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have hesitated to obey a command from your superior. But hearing him toss aside the suggestive comments for a more direct method of flirting had taken your head for a spin. After months of playful teasing that usually led to nowhere, you suddenly found yourself on a direct course to somewhere.

It was foolish to fall for a man like him, but there wasn’t a single thing stopping you from taking the plunge. You were about to dive in headfirst without bothering to take a breath.

“Alright, then. I guess I’ll have to come to you.”

He stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back so he could come round the desk and make his way towards you. Your heartbeat steadily increased the closer he got, pounding against your rib cage until it felt like you’d explode. In just a few short seconds, the colonel’s face was inches away from your own and you could practically smell the peppermint candy he had been sucking on just moments ago. You didn’t realize that you’d backed up against the wall until his right arm was suddenly beside your head. He leaned in close until you could smell of his expensive cologne wafting in the air. It reminded you of your dad’s aftershave, with hints of sandalwood and bergamot.

You’d never been so close to the colonel before and hadn’t realized how much height he had on you. He wasn’t anywhere close to being six feet, but you had always been on the shorter side, and the confidence oozing from his aura was making you feel three inches tall.

“(Y/N),” he said with a stern tone. “I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to give me your honest answer.”

“Sure.”

“That’s an order.”

“... Yes, sir.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes boring holes into you as you waited with stalled breath for him to go on. A few moments passed; you noticed part of his face twitch before he took a big gulp.

Was Roy Mustang… nervous?

“Do you…” He finally spit out after several long seconds. “Do you… want this to go any further?”

You stood there quietly for a moment, wondering if you’d do permanent damage to his ego if you toyed with him any longer. You decided on a mix of genuine honesty and playful taunting, just to keep him on his toes.

“What kind of woman do you take me for, Roy?” you teased, crossing your arms while donning an amused smirk.

“A phenomenal one,” he half-whispered. “One I’d be honored to know more intimately.”

“And once you’ve known me?” you said, meeting his famished gaze. “What will happen?”

“Whatever you want. I could give you space. I could never give you space again. It’s your choice.”

“My superior has handed me the reins,” you goaded gleefully. “What will our colleagues think when they hear of this?”

“I’m serious, (Y/N),” he growled with an unfamiliar sense of urgency. “If you want this… whatever this is, to end here, just say the word and I’ll obey without question. This will never happen again, and everything will go back to the way it was.”

You fell silent, your smile fading away as the conversation began to fall out of your favor.

“But,” he continued, letting out a sharp exhale. “...If you’ll have me. We could m-”

You silenced him with a kiss on the lips, one that left him red faced and dazed. It was a risky move, but one you were more than willing to take. You pulled away after a few seconds and held back a chuckle when you saw his shocked expression; certainly, those long months spent building up tension had paid off. Armed with a silver tongued response, you let your words sink into him like teeth in supple skin. You leaned in close until your breath wisped across his ear.

“Does that answer your question?”

He stared at you with wide eyes and mouth agape for a few moments before pulling you into his embrace once more, kissing you deeply.

His kiss was ravenous, but his hands rivaled that hunger, taking in palmfuls of you as much as he could with all those layers of uniform covering your body. You felt his tongue against your own and relished the sweet peppermint flavor while strong hands slid under the fabric of your outerwear, causing your back to arch further into his grasp. You felt his hands on your back and then again on your hips, groping every curve until his appetite was satiated.

Desperate to get closer, he suddenly pushed you against the wall and grabbed the backs of your thighs as he prepared to lift you up. You let out a tiny yelp a little too late, a weak attempt to warn him of your weight, but your words failed to reach his ears and soon you found yourself in the arms of the Flame Alchemist. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as his hands rested comfortably on your ass, cradling each cheek in his wide palms. You looked down, realizing that your concern for his strength was unfounded. It was as if he was carrying a basket of feathers; there wasn’t any sign of strain to be found in his expression. Your anxiety returned to passion while your hands found their way into the jet black fields of his hair. You found yourself grabbing fistfuls of it as you kissed him deeper and deeper, smiling against his lips every time he moaned from the action.

Abruptly, he pulled away, eyes soft with desire and longing. You opened your mouth to speak, but he silenced you with another wet kiss before carrying you towards the burgundy couch on the other side of the room.

He laid you down carefully on the velvet cushions, as if you were made of delicate porcelain. Your uniform was already in shambles; the hem of your top coat had ridden up, exposing your disheveled black undershirt and your lack of a bra, and your outer apron was practically on backwards. He took in the sight for a moment; his eyes lost in a lustful haze before finally doing something about it. He dug his fingers under the waistband of your pants in search of the buckle, causing you to let out a surprised squeal right before bursting into giggles.

“Stahahap!” You weakly batted his hands away. “It tickles!”

You were doomed as soon as the words escaped your lips. With the narrowing of his eyes and a mischievous grin, he placed his fingers in the same spot you just pushed him away from and dug into your belly with a gentle, yet maddening touch.

“Ticklish?” He asked, already knowing the answer. You would’ve spat back a retort had you not been laughing so hard. Feeling him wriggle around in such a sensitive area was more than you could handle at the moment.

“Aaaaah! Roy!! Nooohoho!”

“Ah, now she calls me Roy. Who knew all I had to do to get you to obey me was to tickle you.”

“Nonononono- AAAH!”

Your little outburst was due to him raking his nails down the length of your now-exposed sides, which made you arch your back and push yourself further into his grasp once again. He quit the unbearable wriggling, trading them for soft and gentle strokes, but even those were enough to make you squirm. Your laughs quieted down to muted giggles, ones you tried to mask by covering your mouth with both hands. He took care of that swiftly, taking both wrists into one of his big hands and pinning them above your head. You could feel the heat radiating from his palm, and it made you sweat even more.

“There will be none of that,” He said with an amused smile, looking you up and down as you laid there at his total mercy. Heat crept up your neck and into your cheeks, and you quietly thanked whatever deity was out there for giving you so much melanin.

“Aaahaha… pleeease…” You half-heartedly begged, not for his hands to leave your skin but to continue touching the rest of you.

His free hand trailed up your side, purposefully tickling your bronze skin every inch of the way up until it reached your chest. Now only protected by a thin layer of dark cotton, he began to caress one of your budding nipples as it poked through the fabric of your undershirt. You let out a small moan, unable to hold yourself back. He gave the same attention to your other nipple, flicking the swollen tip until you began to whine. The gentle stimulation was enough to drive you wild, despite the fact that he had barely touched you.

“Why don’t we remove this troublesome uniform so I can find your other sensitive spots?” He cooed, eager to continue his exploration of your body. He released your wrists momentarily and waited for you to undress. You rolled your eyes but obliged, pulling off your unbuttoned top coat and white gloves while he got to work on his own clothes. You scoffed at him as he fumbled around with his own gloves and pants; you assumed the colonel would be a pro by now, with all the “experience” he bragged about having with the ladies, but seeing him awkwardly stumble around like a preteen about to lose his virginity was enough to make you laugh out loud. He put an end to it quickly, however, with another scurry of fingers up your sides. You shrieked again, curling up into yourself to get away from those torturous touches.

“How dare you mock your superior,” he joked, finally managing to undo his belt buckle. His pants slid off unceremoniously; he kicked them across the room and flinched when they landed on an expensive vase, subsequently knocking it over and shattering into pieces. You covered your mouth again, failing to hide another laugh. However, one look at his dejected expression made you regret poking fun at him.

“This is not exactly how I imagined this going,” He mumbled, furrowing his brows in frustration.

“It’s alright. It’s cute.”

“How dare you call your superior officer cute. I should punish you for that.”

“You’re such a big baby. Stop whining and touch me already.”

“Look who’s giving orders now.”

“Shut up and do as you’re told.”

“As you wish, ma’am,” he teased as he leaned forward, pulling your pants down your thick legs and tossing them aside, this time with a bit more care so as not to break any other valuables in the room. All that was left were your black lace panties and matching undershirt.

He unbuttoned his top coat, removed his white undershirt, and placed both of them on the floor beside the couch, and finally it was your turn to admire his form. You knew the Flame Alchemist was strong after fighting in two different wars, but you had never gotten the chance to see his body in its full glory without the layers of his uniform hiding it away. The muscles in his arms bulged with every movement, complemented by thick veins that ran from the back of his hands to his forearms. He must have been committed to his core workouts as well; he had a well defined six pack that rose and fell with each haggard breath he took. It was enough to make you go feral. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to caress his milky pale skin, which flinched at the sudden contact. It was warm beneath your fingertips, and after a taste you wanted more.

It would have to wait, though, for he was a gentleman and wouldn’t dare come before his lady.

He crouched down and planted a gentle kiss on your stomach as he began his worship of you. Your skin quivered from the tender gesture and you struggled to hold back another tittered reaction for fear of ruining the moment. Biting your lip failed to stifle the giggles bubbling in your throat as he kissed, licked, and sucked every inch of your exposed belly. He flittered his lips along your sides, moving from waist to navel until his tongue dipped into your belly button. Each subtle movement sent electric currents throughout your body, filling you with pleasure as he adored every centimeter of your seldom touched skin.

Moving downwards, his lips grazed your thigh crease as they continued their descent, but when he went to spread your legs you grabbed his shoulders to stop him. He looked up, brows furrowed with worry at your tense expression.

“Wait,” you said as insecurity overcame you. “I don’t… like how I look down there.”

He said nothing, his gaze returning to the empty space between your thighs that he planned to fill himself. He rubbed the tops of your legs with the lightest pressure, making you writhe in place. He looked up at you again with puppy dog eyes, begging for you to let him in.

“May I?”

You hesitated, but nodded in response. He slowly pushed your legs apart, and suddenly you felt more exposed than ever before. The scars that dotted your pantyline were front and center, the ugly browns and bumpy red ridges garnering all the attention from your colonel. Your pubic hair was wild and unkempt, so much that he’d have to sift through the strands like a man on a safari. Surely, seeing these scars, along with the state of your pubic hair, had turned him off completely.

“It’s just… been a while,” you continued your lament. “A long while.”

Still saying nothing, he leaned forward and surprised you with more gentle pecks directly on the scarred skin you had spent years hiding away from the light. He added his tongue, pulling your thin lace panties to the side and carefully spreading your lips so he could begin to feast. That first lick sent your mind soaring to the heavens, causing your hands to clutch the stiff fabric of the couch for leverage. The space between your legs increased as you opened yourself to him, allowing him access to your seldom shared treasure. Your insecurities quickly faded into nothing, and you surrendered to him body and mind.

Admittedly, it took awhile for you to cum. Longer than you wished. But he was dedicated to your pleasure, keeping his face planted between your thighs through every guttural moan or sudden thrash. You made sure to let him know he was doing the job well, your moans growing louder whenever he licked your clit in just the right way. Alternating between sucking and flicking, he finally found the rhythm that suited you best after several long minutes of trial and error. He kept going, refusing to change his pattern until he heard those magic words.

“I’m gonna come,” you cry out in a breathy voice. “I’m gonna come I’m gonna come I’m gonna-”

An explosion of stars in your peripheral, plus the involuntary curling of your toes, told him all he needed to know. Waves of pleasure washed over your body as your mind went fuzzy, like television screens after a long day’s broadcast. Your chest rose and fell in rapid succession, and upon opening your eyes you were greeted by a victorious smirk from your baby-faced superior. He leaned his cheek against your thigh, lazily kissing along your path of scars until he reached your knees.

“You’re amazing,” he uttered in between smooches. His fingers traced constellations in your skin, making you flinch now and then from the ticklish sensations. You tried to grab his hands, but he was faster, and made sure to take advantage of your vulnerability and increased sensitivity by tickling your hips until you screamed.

“And you’re a menace!” You cried out, playfully slapping his cheeks while he laughed at your expense.

Once you regained logical thought, you pushed yourself up and faced your superior officer head on. He had given you a taste of pleasure, but you craved more. You wanted him inside you, and you wanted him your way. It was time for Roy Mustang to take orders.

“Lay down,” You commanded, a sudden authoritativeness washing over you. Roy seemed just as shocked as you, but followed your command willingly. He laid back on the couch across strewn cushions and scattered pillows, allowing you to take full reign over him. He wasn't moving fast enough to your liking, so you pushed him down and wrapped your hand around his throat with enough pressure to hold him in place without affecting his breathing. You kept your thumb and forefinger in the shape of a V, careful not to press down too hard too quickly. Your fingers rested comfortably on the sides of his neck as he looked at you with eyes full of affection.

“(Y/N), I never took you as an aggressive one,” He teased, showing no signs of fighting back.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Roy,” you ran your thumb over his bottom lip and caressed his freshly shaven face as he watched you, holding back from acting on his arousal.

“Well, I’d certainly love to find out.”

You released him from your grasp and carefully stood up on the unstable cushions, lifting your undershirt over your head and sliding your panties down until you were stark naked. Stark naked, in front of your superior officer, who was gaping at you like he’d just discovered the eighth wonder of the world. You crawled on top of him, seizing the waistband of his own briefs before yanking them off unceremoniously. They were discarded next to the couch with the rest of the wrinkled pieces of your uniforms.

Finally, you saw his member in all its glory. It was pale, with a hint of rosy hue, and exactly the right shape for your preferences. If you had to guess, it was at least 8 inches erect. He’d teased you with his dickprint for those long months, aware of how its size and girth demanded your attention every time you were lucky enough to sit next to him in a meeting. How long had you yearned to feel it for yourself?

You took his rock hard penis into your hand, gathering all of the saliva in your mouth before taking it in. You licked the tip with a flicker of your tongue, smiling to yourself when you saw him writhe where he laid. You wrapped your mouth around him as he cried out in pleasure, finally giving him the relief he desired. Your head began to bob up and down as your tongue licked the entirety of his member. You felt it twitch in your mouth every so often as he began to pulsate, grunting every time the tip hit the back of your throat. You suppressed the urge to gag, slowing down whenever that sick feeling arose, then returned to the same deliberate rhythm when the feeling passed. You could tell the ebb and flow was driving him mad. It was time to give him more.

“Do you have a condom?” You asked, ready to go all the way.

He nodded, reaching over the side of the couch in search of his pants. He fumbled around for a bit, letting out a frustrated curse every once in a while before he found what he was looking for. He ripped off the plastic wrapping and pinched the tip as he slid it down over his painfully erect penis.

When he was ready, you climbed on top and spread your legs.

“Do you want me?” you said, pressing the tip of his head into your vagina. He let out a groan and pushed his hips upward, desperate to get deeper inside of you.

“Yes,” he murmured.

“How badly do you want me?”

“I want you so bad,” his pleas became more urgent, almost turning to whimpers. “Please, let me feel you.”

You obliged, taking him into you. You were still quite wet from his masterful oral skills, so his member slid inside easily without much discomfort. The cry of pleasure that came from him almost caused you to stop in place. You lifted yourself up, then back down again, your cheeks making a smacking sound as they slammed against his thighs.

“Fuck,” he sighed with eyes closed, grunting with every long stroke. “You feel so good.”

You silently agree as your body rises and falls in a steady pattern. He feels so good, so unbelievably good inside you, and all you wanted in that moment was to make him feel as good as you did. You bounced around, testing out different angles to see which gave the best reactions, then settled on one and sped up your strokes.

“Tell me you love it,” you demanded, dripping with sweat, seeking affirmation of a job well done.

“I love it. I need it. Please, give me more.”

You could feel him getting close. He squeezed his eyes shut, clutching your hips for dear life as you rode him into dawn and let out more than a few moans of your own.

Finally, he reached his peak. You could feel his warm cum bursting inside you, protected only by the thin lubricated condom. You sat there for some time, delighting in the random pumps and twitches as he continued to burst inside you.

Exhaustion finally hit, and when he pulled you into an embrace you didn’t bother protesting. The two of you laid there for however long, lost in a world of ecstasy. One hand was wrapped around your shoulder while the other stroked your wild curls. You closed your eyes and melted into him, making sure to enjoy the moment as much as possible before it was over.

“Roy,” you spoke up after a long bout of silence. “What happens now?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, continuing to caress your frazzled curls and rubbing the back of your neck every now and then. Seemingly lost in thought.

“I told you,” he spoke up after some time. “You call the shots.”

You clenched your fist as it rested against his chest. You could feel his heart beating rapidly, unwilling to let the excitement go.

“I want more of this. I want more of you.”

He responded by cupping your cheek in one hand, pulling it towards his own face so he could address you properly. For once, you felt shy as you made eye contact with your colonel.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Uh, nothing. I have to tend to my garden, but that won’t take long.”

“Let’s do dinner at 7. Then I’ll tend to your garden afterward.”

He was truly something else. You scoffed at his ridiculous innuendo, gently backhanding him for daring to be so cheesy at such a time. He simply smiled back, pulling you in closer so he could kiss you again, and again, and again.

Work, promotions, envious colleagues… all of that could wait. Right now, you had everything you wanted. You’d figure the rest out later.

After all, you were a phenomenal woman.

#fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist #roy mustang x reader #roy mustang #black reader #black femme reader #reader insert #n/s/f/w #please let me know if i forgot to tag anything!#my first smut #an asexual wrote this please be kind lolol #fmab

173 notes · View notes

amberwild420 · 4 years

Text

one step back, two steps forward (pt. 8)

masterlist

family dinner

The girls chatted as they stepped out of the school. Luka and Kagami promised to meet them there so they can all go for the dinner. And true to their words they were there.

Luka! Kagami! So glad you could make it!

I wouldn’t miss our duel for anything.

Kagami slightly smiled. Since lunch, she had been looking forward to the duel. Luka merely smiled and the group walked towards Kaylan’s home.

When Kaylan told them about class and the drama that unfolded after class, they were angry but pleased when Kaylan used Bustier’s words against the class.

You seriously need to teach me how to trash talk!

Marinette laughed. All the responses and comebacks that Kaylan had used till now made her days.

I can teach you but you have to toughen up first. What they are doing is wrong and I want you to save yourself.

Marinette gave a sad smile. Luka, Kagami and Kaylan shared a look.

I trust them that they can realize the truth and everything will be back to how it was.

I don’t think so.

Kaylan fired back. She stopped, making the rest stop too. She had a blank face but her eyes were calculating.

Marinette…..*sigh*………..look I know you say that everything will be ok or that you trust them, but……but deep down you know that after what they had done, you won’t be able to trust them……………..at least not like before………you know before all this started. As for that everything will be alright……….it’s just as connected to the trust. You think it will be alright but you know that your trust and relationship will be strained. So much that slowly and sub-consciously you will cut them out.

Marinette made a face. A flash of coldness passed through her eyes. But it was gone before she mumbled,

You wouldn’t know that.

I know that. I have seen that. Or rather someone close to me had seen that and told me.

For a moment they looked vulnerable. But it was gone when Marinette nodded. She seriously needed to talk to Tikki. She was good at listening and giving advises.

Come on we don’t want to be late.

They silent moment broke and they walked towards the apartment building.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The woman smiled sweetly and welcomed the trio in. As soon as they settled in the woman started mothering them, hugging them tightly, asking them of their day, talking non-stop.

Mom! You are overwhelming them. Slowdown will ya!

The woman stopped abruptly and smiled sheepishly when she saw the expression of the trio.

Sorry. Sorry. I was just excited that you made so many friends in such a short time.

*sigh* this is Veronica Fox, my mother. She is a freelance psychiatrist. And yes, she is the one who made the banshee therapy for akuma prevention.

Oh! It’s nice to meet you kids. I’m so happy you made friends with my broody daughter.

I’m not broody. Batman brood. I sit back and judge……… And fight when they irritate me.

Marinette nervously laughed not knowing what was going on. The difference between the mother and daughter was like sun and moon. And judging by Kagami’s attempt to hide her smile and Luka’s quite snicker they must have thought the same.

She could feel Tikki’s amusement from her purse.

At least someone’s having fun.

She thought and sighed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The small training room was cozy. Their apartment was not by any mean big and luxurious but it wasn’t too small. The two bedrooms, a living room, a guestroom, a kitchen and a spare room turned to training room was definitely not small. Kagami was attracted towards the small assortment of the blades on the wall.

A beautiful long bladed spear stood tall in the center. The shine and sharpness of the blade gave her a sense of satisfaction.

Next to it was a double bladed weapon. Marinette who stood behind Kagami looked confused.

I don’t think I had ever seen this type of weapon in your collection Kagami. What type of weapon is this?

She whispered to the Japanese girl who looked rather stunned.

A naginata! Kaylan called from behind them. Veronica left the teens to get started for the evening tea. Luka also joined the girls, giving out an impressed whistle.

It’s not easy to wield a weapon of this caliber. Not without years and years of practice.

Kagami looked impressed.

Wait were her eyes shining like all those anime characters she had seen or was Marinette hallucinating?

Kaylan looked amused. She picked up the blade in question and went in the middle of the room. The rest waiting in the side in anticipation. Kaylan stood with her eyes closed mentally preparing to do a simple trick rather then something complicated.

With a sigh, she opened her eyes and spin the pole around her with a familiar ease and pointed it towards Kagami, who looked like a child in a candy store.

Smiling softly she put the weapon back to where it belonged.

It was impressive!

Kagami said with a wide smile. If it wasn’t her ability to school her emotion she would be rumbling like Marinette normally does.

I’m glad you thought so. To me it is like a fish to water. That’s why I learned to fight with this far quicker.

Uh……….. Marinette didn’t know what to ask but she shuffled around nervously before opening her mouth to ask her a question.

Is it really hard to fight with this two blade pole?

Yes. / It is.

Both girls said at the same time. They looked at each other before turning towards the designer.

Wielding a naginata requires a lot of practice. Especially for women. First because of the height and weight that requires a lot of upper body strength. This one is normal length mostly used by samurai’s. Women warriors use one smaller and lighter.

Kagami told them rather eagerly. She wanted to learn. But her affinity was with sword. But to see one here and someone to use a weapon she longed to learn right in front of her was making her warm in chest.

It’s not just the upper body strength……… Kaylan interrupted.

Normal naginata have only one blade. Mine has double blade. It makes it even more difficult to practice. You can’t get distracted. Or one of the two blades can cut you.

Kagami nodded. This is exactly what made this weapon so magnetic for her. She turned to the wall and picked up the only katana from the wall.

The beautiful white sheath with small patterns and beautifully crafted handle. Marinette subtly took out her sketch book, suddenly inspired by a sword to make a base line of her next dress.

Kagami unsheathe the sword, admiring the blade before turning to Kaylan.

I believe a duel is in order.

Kaylan only smirked before taking her sword and turning towards the sparring mat. Kagami unsheathed her own saber but was bummed out when Kaylan didn’t unsheathed her own but didn’t comment on it.

Luka who was silent all this time, stepped forward to act as referee since Marinette was in her zone.

Both girls got in position, blades pointing each other. The moment Luka signaled both clashed. Both countering the other, not letting other to take advantage of the opening.

Marinette looked at the dual fascinated. Tikki the ever loving god/Kawami was recording the dual. (She is still hiding in the purse mind you. She just doesn’t want her chosen’s friend to get into trouble when they clearly forgot about the promised video.)

It was until Kagami thrust her saber point blank and it hit Kaylan in the shoulder when she tried to block it. A moment of silence passed before Kaylan chuckled and relaxed.

Not bad, Tsurugi!

Kagami who looked rather bewildered. Apparently she didn’t thought it would actually hit. But she relaxed when Kaylan laughed. She smiled.

Not too bad yourself, Fox.

Best out of three?

I don’t mind.

And with that they positioned themselves again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next two rounds were a tie and another win for Kagami, though it was longer than any match Kagami ever participated.

I would have won if it was my trusty pole.

Kaylan said, before putting the katana back to its place. Kagami let out a hum of affirmation. No doubt there, she was good at handling it. They turned to the pair of whip coiled at the wall.

A silver whip with a small curved blade.

And another with golden handle and an arrow like blade. Both adorn the wall, with a grace of their own.

How good are you with a whip?

It was Marinette who asked this time. Her eyes were calculatingly looking at the weapon. If she is good with such weapons then giving her a miraculous with an unconventional weapon will be easy for her to use in akuma battle.

Better than sword. Almost as good as gladiator.

The trio raised an eyebrow. She smiled sheepishly before gesturing towards the naginata.

You named that thing? Kagami looked rather amused. The designer and the musician snickered when Kaylan let out a dramatic gasp.

How dare you call gladiator a thing?! He is my trustworthy ally.

The trio laughed. A whine that was more like complaining sounded. A smile rose to her lips, Veronica looked at the old picture on the fridge. It was two of them, she cried when she first held her smiling daughter. It was one of her favorite memory.

Her life hasn’t been easy. No friend. No family. But it felt nice to hear her talking to friends, laughing. Maybe it was the right decision to come here despite the emotional terrorist.

Kids, have some snacks! God forbid I can’t have any more kids with no self-care.

MOM!!!

And one again the laughter rose.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taking a bite of the fruit sandwich, Marinette hummed in satisfaction. Fruit tart and fruit trifle were available in bakery but……… she definitely need to get the recipe.

Kagami looked right at home. Well, considering it was from her home country. Luka, Kaylan and her mother were tending to their tea.

Now that we all are gathered……..let’s begin the interrogation.

Veronica winked at the kids making them giggle while Kaylan rolled her eyes fondly.

So I know about Marinette being the aspiring fashion designer that could give other designer a run for their money, what about two of you? I don’t think any of you was mentioned before.

That’s because we met today and I decided that are worth my time and effort. Unlike some liars and dumb sheep that share only one brain cell which could die anytime now.

Veronica lightly slapped her on the thigh, but Kaylan just shamelessly smirked. The trio exchanged knowing glances.

Yep, they were like sun and the moon. Not like mother, like daughter kind.

Kagami is a world class fencer. She had won many gold medals in every single competition and she is training for the Olympus.

Marinette excitedly started talking. The girl in question had a very tiny blush on her cheeks when her friend kept gushing about her.

I’m actually a guitarist, I was with the kitty section but now I’m going solo.

And Luka sometimes intern with Jagged Stone, he can hear the songs of the soul.

That’s nice I’m sure you wouldn’t mind telling me what type of music my soul emits?

The said boy nodded before closing his eyes and focusing while everyone else held their breath when they saw Luka frowning. It wasn’t like the unpleasant frown when he heard Lila’s song. But more like he couldn’t figure out how to tell.

It’s…………

Everyone leaned forward batting their breath waiting for him to speak.

It’s ……it’s like many different melodies mixed together. Not like a mush or anything unpleasant. More like…..orchestra? No more like a mix classic and rock band.

Veronica looked eager to learn about the mixed melody. Kagami and Marinette looked curious as well. Kaylan just calmly sipped her tea before interrupting.

Let me guess? Sharp and fast notes of violin, upbeat of a drum? That’s her alright.

here

She got another hit from her mother but she just rolled her eyes hiding her smile behind the cup.

You don’t need to hide it mom, anyone who dares to antagonize you learn about your gentle sharpness, your excitement and upbeat personality is what everyone you meet knows. What else is there to hide?

True. Luka said as his eyes turned to the woman in question.

However there is softness hiding underneath those sharp notes, your love.

Veronica looked rather pleased. She was beaming.

Oh! Oh! What about my daughter?!

I don’t want you to hear it.

She flat-out refused. A little pestering occurred but she just fondly rolled her eyes.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Playing mortal combat, while sharing stories with each other was a good time pass. Marinette sharing her experience about being clumsy even if she could haul a 50kg bag of flour on her shoulder with ease. Kagami sharing her training and fencing experience. Luka telling them about all the melodies he had ever heard and how Marinette was the most beautiful one he ever heard (cue lots of blushing and whining and teasing). Kaylan sharing her moving around experience and difference in cultures.

Time passed quickly and it was time for dinner. It was rather pleasant. A few jokes passed around. When they left, Veronica insisted they come to their place whenever they feel like it. They were welcomed to return when they felt like it.

It would be best if you kids come around more often. I’m a therapist and I can see the amount of stress you kids are shouldering. It is not good normally but it is worse when you are emotionally hostage of a terrorist. So come by when you feel like you have to unwind. I might not be able to give a 100% solution but a better coping system will be nice. So don’t hesitate.

Kaylan looked as serious as her but didn’t say anything. They bid their farewell and left.

#One Step Back #two steps forward #miraculous ladybug #original character #marinette protection squad #Marinette deserves better #Marinette needs a hug #someone give Marinette a hug #i'm finally back

45 notes · View notes

serpentsapple · 4 years

Text

(This post includes major spoilers for The Grisha Trilogy.)

[kittyinhighheels: Why does this remind me so much of Alina and Mal? Him never really seeing her for who she is, her giving up her power for love because Gods forbid she is meant for greatness and not pregnancy]

@kittyinhighheels

Indeed, this is very similar to Alina’s journey... in fact, we spoke of her case in another post! You can clearly pinpoint a pattern affecting heroines: the narration will declare them powerful, cunning or intelligent, often without demonstrating these traits; and should they display even a shadow of these characteristics, they will be mercilessly condemned for it. Their clever plans will fail, their backings will vanish, their powers will be stripped from them... and, to add insult to injury, they will find themselves satisfied with this newfound state, for, ah! how terrible was it to become a manipulative, a fearsome woman! how dreadful to prove ambitious! surely a calm, a peaceful existence should be enough to sustain them.

Despite reading only a handful of young adult series, I stumbled upon this pattern quite often... in The Grisha Trilogy, yes, but I recall a similar situation with Kestrel in The Winner’s Trilogy, and I would extend it even to Jude in The Folk of the Air. Frustratingly, such criticism will be dismissed as evidence of the authors’ mediocrity: isn’t it common for heroes to be overpraised for qualities they never exhibit on page? isn’t it usual across every genre and for every audience? isn’t it reaching to say that of heroines, isn’t it disdainful of women who would embrace the life of happy housewives?

True - it may be, at times, difficult to untangle what comes from an unskilled hand and what stems from sexism. Yet looking at it objectively... not only do fictional men not have to overcome these ordeals as often, as severely, but furthermore any hurdle, any setback meaningfully serves their arcs. It highlights an aspect of their personality, allows them to reflect on their flaws, their mistakes, their traumas, or it pushes them further down a wrongful path of their own making. Either way, their character and struggles are compellingly portrayed. Girls and women... they’re only punished.

Bardugo showed us this clearly with Alina. In what way, exactly, did Alina harbour excessive ambition, excessive greed? In what way that would surpass the Darkling’s aspirations, or Nikolai’s? In what way that would turn this loss of power into a meaningful twist? Same reasoning, applied to the others: Genya, a lovely woman at the mercy of a lecherous king, sees this prized beauty ruined, her defining characteristic destroyed. Did it stem from her own errors, her own choices, did her character profit from it? Or was it only shocking, only fitting, for beauty is women’s universal quality? Then: Baghra attempts to raise her son differently from her own upbringing, yet hardens his heart enough her opinions no longer sway his actions. Did that answer everything? Did her sole decisions bring him, an adult man centuries old, to this point? Did her death close her journey conclusively? Or was it all a woman, a mother could do, dying for her son and his arc?

(In comparison the men, such as the Darkling or Nikolai, even Mal for a while, suffer fates much more tailored to their personalities, strengths and weaknesses included.)

Times and times again, these women are brought down... yet never for their own characters’ sake. It makes an example of them - ah, shallow, vain women valuing beauty! ah, mothers failing their own children! ah, ambitious, daring girls! - or it shrinks them, squeezes the interest, the particularities out of them, until they’re dull an docile enough to be paired up with men. Alina’s ending is, I would argue, not her dream... but Mal’s, finally getting the normal girl he wanted.

At this point, I feel like I’m depressingly going in circles... for in what way did Alina truly have a choice, even in her romantic affairs? Would she end up with this young man, or this oher young man, or this other man? Who would it be? Never: would it even be? Why would it be? Did any of them see her, see her truly beyond their own schemes and ideals...? It is just as you said... gods forbid she would be meant for anything else than romance and pregnancy.

(How lucky, perhaps, that she lived in a YA setting and not an adult one like Nesta, so that the sexual abuse and other fun details were very toned down... the girls in Bardugo’s adult books aren’t as fortunate.)

#reply #our posts #mod V #The Grisha Trilogy

17 notes · View notes

ofmoxie · 3 years

Text

𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘: Ganymede Gia Rojas. 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗦: She/Her. 𝗔𝗚𝗘: Immortal. 27 𝗢𝗖𝗖𝗨𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡: Bartender. 𝗦𝗘𝗫𝗨𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬: Pansexual with a preference for women. AESTHETIC: Broken things glued back together with gold. The background noise of a city at 3am. Serenity in lightning storms, avoiding family reunions, driving fast, the stories behind scars, beautiful sketches drawn on paper napkins, night skies lit up by firelight, constellations in notebook margins, stargazing, revelling in the rain.

Bio:

They say that beauty can be wielded like a powerful weapon.

To a young noble growing up in a newly formed Troy, it was advantageous and exploitable ammunition indeed, but none ever understood the double edge of such a thing quite like Ganymede. For every benefit there was an equal detriment, namely in the shape of royalty...Kings and Queens of far off lands; aristocrats and eupatridaes and social elites that, given her father’s newfound city-state, were not people to be making fools of in the midst of trade talks. Her parents were never exceptionally cruel to her per say, but Troy was their child more so than she ever was, and the heavens forbid Ganymede should ever do anything to jeopardise their envisioned paradise.

A small respite from the tedious politics came in the form of a secluded hillside, far away from entitled smirks, wondering eyes and suffocating walls she was supposed to love -- It had been the very spot where Zeus had found her as it happened, a most fateful evening indeed, and she’d been swept up into the land of the Gods before she even fully grasped what such a thing meant.

A human suddenly elevated to Goddess with sparse knowledge of celestials, was it any wonder she didn’t know what she was doing? Becoming a lover of their King, making messes and merriment and reveling in their revelry. From a rocky start of certain status she didn’t ask for, Ganymede grew to love the occupation she’d been tasked with since Hebe’s marriage to Heracles. Getting on well enough with most of the Gods, never viewing herself as any kind of equal, the lack of ego seemingly going a long way to keeping the peace.....

It’s all history which she remembers none of. Instead she currently goes by the name of Gia Rojas, estranged from her parents and their conservative ways, having run away from Cuba to work as a bartender in the heart of Athens for as long as she can recall. Gia has no particular aspirations for anything more. She has a perfect work-life balance, a job that can pay the bills she greatly enjoys, coworkers who are closer to family than her own -- To her, it’s certainly a far better life than to be rich and overworked.

#People who talk less frequently notice more | Ganymede

6 notes · View notes

amphtaminedreams · 4 years

Text

A/W 2020 Fashion Month & Top 20 Collections: Before Vogue Went Blank (Part 4)

Hi all,

Welcome to part 4! It’s gonna be a bit of a shorter one because I wasn’t sure if I could fit the last few collections into my part 3 since I also want to include a ranking of my favourite F/W20 shows. I have so many ideas for what I’d like my next few posts to be (there’ll probably be a bit of gap between them as I would like to try and get some fiction writing in too) and I need help and recommendations on one post in particular so I thought I’d open by explaining that if anyone would like to send me suggestions! The post is basically going to highlight the often under-appreciated personal style of PoC, and I’d also like to make sure I include all types of bodies and genders and ethnicities (other than white girls, as we get enough credit as it is, all a tall, skinny blonde woman has to do is wear some light wash jeans, heels and a blouse and high fashion Twitter are posting non-stop about how incredible her style is)! This can be a celebrity, a model, an influencer or even just one of your friends if you think they deserve some hype too! Obviously there’s only so many photos I can include but I will make sure to look at any suggestions, though of course I’m gonna be biased towards the grungier looks; I gave Dolls Kill a pass for a long time because I thought the brand had changed and become more responsible over the last few years but since Shoddy Lynn’s thoughtless Instagram post during the protests last month and then her lacklustre response video, I say fuck that “goth is white” bullshit, alternative black women are hot af. I’ll also make sure to include a list of my favourite black owned clothing lines I’ve seen people talking about on Twitter and Instagram so again, if you have any suggestions feel free to inbox me. Other than that, I have a couple of lookbooks planned and after, either a post about my favourite shows for style inspiration OR a lookbook depending on whether I have the clothes to do it already/can source a few things from Depop-Depp-I’ve made a commitment not to buy anything new for the next couple of months and I want to stick to that this time round! I’d also like to do a general collation of my favourite summer outfits, an almost scrapbook-y kinda post, and another post on some of my favourite fashion icons (I’ll probs end up repeating a lot of the women from the post I was talking about above but I’ll try and include different outfits to keep it varied!).

Now, into the final part, and the top 20, starting with Tory Burch (I’m really pissed off because I added an unnecessary E in after the R and now Tumblr is once again being stupid and not saving any of my editing changes-also I said on the next post instead of in in the last paragraph and my anal-retentiveness is kicking into high gear).

You’d think it’s a kinda anti-climatic one to open with but I do like this collection! It reminds me a bit of last season’s Miu Miu but more so of Brock’s general aesthetic, though with more layers and in some ways to its detriment, a lot more wearable. Looking like something from a bygone era is part of what gives Brock its mystique, but Burch’s designs are practically made for the Chelsea born and bred lifestyle blogger who dresses for a cold spell in the Coachella valley all year long and treats trawling Pimlico’s furniture shops and meeting their girlfriends for coffee like it’s a full-time job. She’s probably born into money and doesn’t work all that hard but hey, she looks angelic holding a bouquet of flowers and in 2020 we all low-key want her life, right? It’d go against my ethics but...*whispers* it would be nice to be that girl just for a couple of days. It is a gorgeous collection, with a lush colour palette and an ever graceful variety of prints and textures, and it toes the line of being accessible and being worthy of a fashion week spot with dexterity. 8/10 and it only loses marks because it’s safe for the brand.

When it comes to Valentino, they’re a pretty reliable favourite for me, and this season’s collection doesn’t break tradition; this one is slightly grittier than usual too which is a big win for me. Whilst the usual sophistication and delicate details are there, quirky embroidery, sequins and tulle, we also get a lot of leather and more black than usual, which I pray doesn’t a herald a return to people thinking “I only own black clothes and listen to Artic Monkeys” is a personality trait. I don’t know if it’s intentional, but there seems to be a lot of aquatically inspired pieces in this collection too; the 3d roses resemble scales to me (and are a really unique texture), and the way the tulle is placed kinda reminds me of fins and has a mermaid on land feel. It wouldn’t surprise me, since Valentino does tend to draw from nature quite a bit. Highs for me were the Valentino red tulle piece and the tulle pieces in general, of course with the embroidered florals as well which the basic bitch in me always looks forward to. The few lows were concentrated in the leopard print section, a print that for me is really overdone and reminds me of recent Dolce and Gabbana. It was cool when layered with the matching coat but I otherwise could’ve done without it.

Vera Wang is another one of my reliable faves-I think I like this collection even more than the last, it really is a fucking DREAM. The overly floral pieces I wasn’t too keen on but I’ll ignore that on the basis that as with Gucci, the tulle-harness combo is everything I look for in a dress and more. I know manic-pixie-dream-girl is a bit of a slur (not a slur slur but you know what I mean) in terms of the associated character, but this 90s Courtney Love grunge twist on that aesthetic is gold, fully realised big anarchist fairy energy (which is a screen name I’m surprised I don’t see more often and which I might now steal). These dresses were made for someone like Zoe Kravitz or FKA Twigs on the red carpet, and if god forbid I somehow ever ended up on one, I would go to the ends of the earth to be wearing one of the dresses from this collection. Aside from the dresses, I appreciated the moody doesn’t-want-to-be-at-the-family-function teenager inspired sleeves and the 2014 Tumblr Cruel Intentions style knee high socks. Love, love, LOVE it.

So, Versace started off strong with the all black looks-the cut outs were cute if impractical and the fit and flare trousers in particularly were really well fitted (from a distance, at least). I hated the film Red Sparrow but the visuals were very cool, and this section reminded me of that, like a high fashion collection based on Jennifer Lawrence’s character. There were some stunning colour combos in the Ashish like hyper-floral part too, and the houndstooth, marble and Versace tile prints were sick. The black jumper with the flowers on reminds me of a jumper of my nan’s I always wanted that my aunty ended up donating to a charity shop after she died not knowing I liked it. Gutted (not just about the jumper obviously, looool).

HOWEVER, as with many 91 look collections, it was sloppy at times. A lot of pieces I at first liked (I.E the silver dress we saw Kendall Jenner in, included above) are kind of unfinished up close. There was also a big varsity inspired section which was nice at times but got pretty repetitive and occasionally looked like it could pass for Jack Wills or a bad Michael Kors collection. On the whole, it had both its pros and its cons which puts it directly in the middle of the pack.

Victoria Beckham’s collection is near the lower-middle quartile when it comes to plotting the highs and lows of the F/20 collections. The pieces are pretty and accessible, I’d definitely wear them, but they’re predictable and mostly a rip-off of other brands who did something similar in a more interesting way. Though her collections are never really experimental, this one is particularly safe, and she and whoever helped design this season’s pieces were clearly avoiding the edges of the box like a child playing the floor is lava. It’s alright, and I hate coming towards the end of the post with negativity, but I have to be honest, and this just doesn’t really interest me beyond a “yeah, that’s nice” glance.

Vivienne Westwood, on the other hand, is always interesting whether I would actually wear it myself or not. Despite the mix and matchiness that is essential to the deconstructed look, which being the basic bitch I am I often struggle to see past, there were some gorgeous pieces and eurgh, I could really talk about that Bella Hadid look all day. The contrast between the exaggerated femininity of the waist cinchers against the androgyny of the less structured, oversized pieces is a really interesting one and the colour combinations work beautifully together. I also love the idea behind the collection, which is, in the words of Andreas Kronthaler about “rites of spring, and the good and the bad, and conflict, and the good prevailing over evil”. Ahhh, I hear you say. THAT’S what’s with the garlic necklace. Can I get another pat on the back for summing up this collection as “vampire slaying uniform” in my notes? I mean, that’s kind of a good vs. evil situation, isn’t it? I know it’s hard to ignore how hot vampires always are in TV series and movies but just think of the true forms of the ones off Penny Dreadful and remember THEY DRINK BLOOD (I personally think being a vampire would be really cool, just need to work out how to do it “ethically”).

Lastly, Zimmerman, and I really can’t say how happy I am to end on a positive note because this collection was stunning. Not without all the characteristically ornate, indulgent and painstakingly detailed efforts we’ve come to expect from Nicky and Simone Zimmerman, these looks (in an icy winter themed colour palette as well) are the offspring of a sophisticated flower child and a 70s glam rocker and I think with this sentence I’ve finally put my style aspirations into words. Honestly, give me the money to produce a modern day Almost Famous and I’ll make my character this no-nonsense intersectional feminist front woman of a fictional Haim-like band who sings with the voice of an angel but is rock and roll as fuck and eats men for breakfast and I’ll put her in this collection and (deep breath) it would be ICONIC. There. Got to the point eventually. Am I talking about a 2020s version of Steve Nicks? Possibly. After all, I do have a framed illustration of her on my wall. But regardless, I need those lace-up velvet BOOTS, that mesh dress with the celestial embroidery, the flame detail pieces, the white pussy bow blouse with the eyes on it. Everything is sooo dreamy; when I was looking through the collection for my favourites, I saved pretty much every. single. look. IT’S EVERYTHING I STRIVE TO BE. WHY CAN’T I AFFORD ZIMMERMAN GOD DAMN IT!?

See, I’ll be going on about Zimmerman in a couple of paragraphs again because it will be very high in my top 20, which I’m so glad is a top 20 BTW. I know I said it would be a top 10 in my last post because I thought that was how I structured it last time but I double checked and it is 20, which is a relief; once again, picking only 10 collections would be very hard. SO! Let’s get into it!

1. Gucci

I hate being predictable but Gucci once again holds the top spot for me. How could I not love this? I would say that I hope Alessandro Michele fucks up next season so I don’t come off as a boot licker but when the boots in question are platform Mary Janes and knee high socks and they’re underneath tulle with BDSM inspired harnesses on top...maybe boot sole doesn’t taste so bad after all.

2. Zimmerman

Well, I did say it wouldn’t be long until you were seeing the same outfits again, so at least you know my word is good.

3. Moschino

Wow, as if putting Gucci first again wasn’t bad enough, Moschino’s also a non-mover. But...Marie Antoinette this season and Picasso last? And this campy? It’s like Jeremy Scott reached into my brain magician-into-a-top-hat-style, picked out an interest of mine at random, and tried to communicate this to me through the medium of design with THE most chaotic energy humanly possible. I an only commend the man, because he succeeded, and I approve. It’s weird because before I always saw Jeremy Scott’s designs as tacky and yet I’ve loved all the collections I’ve reviewed, so I must ask...are the collections getting less tacky or am I getting more tacky? Much to think about.

4. Vera Wang

The battle armour of a punk princess. Not very good at protecting against knives, arrows, bullets or...anything really, but I’ve never really been the kind of person to get into physical fights (apart with a bouncer who tried to push me down the stairs once at an ABBA night but I was really drunk and she was mean, alright!?), so who cares? Nobody can make you do anything in dresses this pretty.

5. Lanvin

I’m a few years behind everyone else but I’m still on the Mad Men hype train and I don’t ever want to get off. All I wish is that Betty Draper had *SPOILERS* divorced Don’s detty arse earlier and rode off into the sunset in that white Bella Hadid coat with the red lip to match (or the checkered one above will do).

6. Etro

As long as she remains the queen of dreamy bohemian fashion, I’m not gonna do Etro dirty by putting her any lower than this ever again on the basis that she’s not conceptual enough which ashamedly is what I implied in my last ranking-yes, Etro is a she because just as most women deserve more from men, she is beautiful and deserves better than my previous disrespect! I said what I said.

7. Dilara Findikoglu

I see your Thom Browne and your Commes Des Garcons and I raise you my “weird”-though-not-actually-that-weird-at-all-can-we-all-just-dress-like-this-on-a-day-to-day-basis-please? fave, Dilara.

8. Paco Rabanne

Battle armour that actually COULD protect you against knives, arrows, and bullets. Maybe. Well, you’d hope so anyway for the price.

9. Rodarte

Suddenly my phobia of spiders has evaporated. And no, it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that these ones are diamond encrusted, what are you on about?

10. Alberta Ferretti

The colour combinations in this collection were stunning. Honestly. I just picked a really bad pic to illustrate that. Go read my first post to see (grifting 101: complete)!

11. Charlotte Knowles

I saw Bella Hadi wearing a Charlotte Knowles two piece, so I bought a Charlotte Knowles two piece.

LMAOOO, I wish.

12. Balenciaga

It’s occurred to me a couple of posts too late now on the basis that Tumblr is being a dick and won’t go back and let me edit stuff, even little typos, but I’m now wondering if there’s a link between the climate change theming of the show and the exaggerated structures of the pieces? Ya know, the whole abundance is killing the planet line of thinking? I know analysis isn’t exactly on brand with these silly mini captions and that oversized and exaggerated proportions is one of Balenciaga’s running motifs anyway buuut just a thought I had! And sidenote: I do believe overconsumption is killing the planet! The way I phrased that made it seem like I’m a climate change denying dickhead! That I am not! Maybe if I shave my head, legally change my name to Steve, get a British flag tattoo on my bicep, and spend every waking moment in my nearest Spoons I’ll get there but it’s not on the agenda quite yet!

13. Christopher Kane

If fashionable robots took over the world, they’d raid Christopher Kane’s studio and fry us all with laser beams whilst wearing his dresses.

14. Fendi

Siri, play Vroom Vroom by Charli XCX.

15. Olivier Theyskens

Mandarin collar. Mandarin collar. Mandarin collar. NEXT TIME I WILL REMEMBER WHAT THE PROPER NAME IS INSTEAD OF NEEDING TO GOOGLE IT AGAIN. Come on brain, you’re supposed to be good at this kinda thing, make it happen.

16. Elie Saab

Blair Waldorf’s wet dream. Add in some platform boots and chain jewellery and now it’s my wet dream too.

Because Chuck Bass is creepy as FUCK and maybe it’s because I watched Gossip Girl at the ripe old age (lol) of 21 and most people watch it as teenagers but I don’t know why YOU WERE ALL SO OBSESSED WITH HIM! He tries to sexually assault Jenny who is about 14 in the VERY FIRST EPISODE. I think I went off on a tangent here but it had to be said. You girls have no taste.

Don Draper was an absolute dog, but he was played by Jon Hamm, and he might be one of the finest men on the planet. What’s your excuse, Chuck and Blair enthusiasts?

17. Miu Miu

As someone who has probably been/met many a spoilt brat in her time, I appoint Miu Miu as the official sponsor of the Spoilt Brat™ aesthetic and yeah, that’s something I just made up but I’m on the money here. Imagine one of those “daddy, can you get me a pony?” types all grown up. Are you telling me you don’t picture her in Miu Miu? Because that sounds like a lie.

18. YSL

The war flashbacks I get of the Friends episode where Ross tries to get out of those leather trousers aside (I know it’s PVC her not leather but they have the same sheen, you can’t deny it), these outfits turn me into the irl version of the heart eyes emoji. It’s not like I think this is the best collection I’ve ever seen, YSL could def push the boat out a bit in terms of experimentation, but there aren’t many people who wouldn’t look hot as fuck in one of these pieces

19. Balmain

I didn’t like ALL of it, but the looks that I did like were amongst the ones that stuck out to me most when I was reflecting on the collections I’ve reviewed: the breast plates and silk capes and the scorpion detailing are real chef’s kiss moments.

20. Marques Almeida

Miss the collection that gave us this coat off the list? Never.

SO!

That is the end! Wow! I started saving the photos for this review back in late January/early February or whenever it was that the first fashion week began and now it’s mid-fucking July!? I don’t know if that speaks more to my incompetency or what a state the last few months have been. I’m not gonna write a super long ending paragraph because you’ve heard enough from me already and it’s 2:30am and I’m being hassled by Trump supporters on Twitter (literally just for stating that it’s a privilege to be able to pursue a career you truly have a passion for rather than having to be practical about finances first) anddddd I’ve got a closing shift tomorrow so I should probably log the fuck off and remove my clown makeup before it’s time to start my shift, lol!

Quick recommendation before I wrap this up, there was a really interesting debate on ITV literally a few hours ago on the Stephen Lawrence case that I thought I would recommend (they also showed the 1999 dramatic portrayal of events afterwards) about racism in England and whether or not much has changed since the murder. I didn’t catch the whole thing but from what I did see, there were some really strong points being made and I think it could be a good thing to sit and watch with your family members if you want to get talking about the Black Lives Matter movement and aren’t sure how to broach the topic. I bring it up because I feel like most middle-aged white people trust ITV so they’re less likely to turn their noses up (lol, I wish I was joking) at it and maybe go in with a more open mind. I’d like to keep the conversation about social issues going so if there’s anything you’d like me to get some information together on and make a post about-I read yesterday that there’d been arrests of THE PEOPLE PROTESTING the way Breonna Taylor’s death has been handled. No, not the police officers responsible for her death, the people simply pointing out that those police officers have done wrong. It’s a ridiculous situation and just shows how deeply embedded a police officer’s supposed right to kill and to use force is in upholding the American status quo. I wish I could end the post on better news, but let’s hope that next time I post, there is some, and as always thank you for reading til the end if you did get this far! I really don’t have all that many followers on here but do et me know if there’s anything I can reblog or share to help.

Lauren x

29 notes · View notes

awakenthereveal · 4 years

Text

A CRIMINAL MASQUERADE

CHAPTER 1 — JU HAKNYEON

“Being rich is pure torture”

MASTERLIST

"Darling," a familiar voice calls, capturing the attention of Haknyeon, who has his nose dug into the intriguing plot of a story about a psychopath on the loose. Haknyeon looks up to see his mother smiling at him, her dress and hair extravagant as per usual. Haknyeon closes his book after bookmarking his page and feeds his mother his attention, his face poker as per usual. "You do remember the masquerade party we are to attend, right?" She inquires.

He grips his book tightly, attempting to contain and mask his annoyance. He hates masquerade balls since no one ever has anything interesting to say and the girls there would try hopelessly to seduce him. Visuals are a curse in his eyes. He'd much rather be ugly and not be harassed by annoying woman. God, the things he'd do to feel like a normal person who isn’t cursed with his visuals.

"Unfortunately," Haknyeon replies, standing from the comfortable aqua single couch decorated with light pink roses, outlined in white. His mother sighs and shakes her head at his unwillingness to go to something as fun as a masquerade. Who wouldn't miss the opportunity to socialise and dance to wonderful classical music?

The answer to her question is Haknyeon. He hates interacting with people and much prefers to keep to himself, diving deep into a world of fiction to escape the harsh reality before him. Being rich is also a curse. He'd do anything to be a simple middle-class citizen, though his mother would strictly forbid it.

"Why are you so hesitant to go, my dear? Chanhee is attending, and you ought to see your best friend, don't you?" His mother tries to shamelessly bribe him, making him sigh and remove her hand from his arm.

"I know I ought to meet Chanhee, it's just that I wish to meet him under different circumstances, not at a damned masquerade ball," Haknyeon answers, spite painfully evident in his voice. He never cares about whether he offended his mother with his brutally honest answers because he has been taught to be honest. It'd be against his morals if were to lie to his mother.

"Don't use that language with me, young man," reprimands his mother, a frown on her face. Haknyeon rolls his eyes, sighs and shakes his head. His mother has always been annoyingly sensitive about his language and it annoys the shit out of poor Haknyeon.

"Don't frown, mother, it makes you look like a fucking horse," he advises snarkily, srunching his face. "Anyways, I'll start to get ready, farewell." He turns his heel and waltzes into his room before his mother could continue to nag him any longer. He laughs quietly to himself before shooting a bitter look at his massive wardrobe full of suits that he hates weating with a passion. Oh, how I'll never miss you, he thinks as he searches through the similar suits for something to wear.

After a long time of being indecisive, Haknyeon settles for a simple black suit with a golden mask that circles his eyes, the glitter shining under the dim lighting in his room. His hair is styled simply, tousled, raven black and swept to one side that slightly covered his mask. He looks unreal in the mirror, his soft features added with the simple and formal look creating a godlike look on him.

His mother claps and squeals excitedly as Haknyeon trudges down the stairs, his pink lips a straight line. "Look at how handsome my son looks!" His mother boasts to his father, who is an exact replica of Haknyeon but older and taller. They even share the same stoic look.

"Of course," his father replies in his deep, cold voice. "He takes it after me." He adds with a small, prideful smile. His mother lets out a loud laugh and agreed, her arm around Haknyeon's waist. Haknyeon feels extremely uncomfortable in this awkward situation. He wants nothing more than to leave this awkward situation.

He watches with a bored expression as his mother, who has adorned herself in a baby pink dress with a tight corset underneath, struggles into the carriage, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin on his palm. He finds his mother too over dramaitc and social, and the fact she expects him to be like that annoys him even more than he he was.

The ride to his mother's friend's mansion is long and bumpy. Every time Haknyeon tries to take a nap, he is jerked awake by a rock on the road. He doesn’t want to be awake listening to his mother rave on about whatever comes to mind. He respects his father for being able to deal with someone as obnoxious as his mother.

"Haknyeon, I think it's time we talk about marriage," his father addresses. He is trying to take a nap but is wide awake when he heard the word he dreads most: marriage. He is only twenty-one and has aspirations of staying single and perhaps even start his own business with Chanhee, but no, his obnoxious mother just had to persuade his father into getting him to marry. We'll get grandkids, darling, imagine how cute they'd be. Her words make him want to barf out his afternoon tea.

"Father, I've told you countless times that I don't want to get married," Haknyeon frankly tells his father, his tone flat as usual. "Children, women, being a father, none of it appeals to me. I wish to start a business, do something productive, not simply be a father. Why must you treat me like a damned woman?" He rants, concluding with a scoff.

"Haknyeon, how dare you oppos-" his mother starts.

"Be quiet, will you? We're here and I don't want my experience to be worse than it already is." Haknyeon requests rudely, jumping out of the door opposing his mother. He can hear how offended she is from where he stood, her voice loud and angered, but he doesn’t give a damn. It isn’t like she wanted the best for him, just the best for her.

He marvels at the magnificent structure before him, his mouth agape despite being to places like this countless times. Pristine white walls; two marble pillars that holds the shelter above the doors; a well-maintained garden; windows covered by white lace curtains; golden outlining on the roof and other edges. It is dreamlike.

Hesitantly, Haknyeon follows his parents into the elegant mansion, but there is there was something in his gut that tells him that something is bound to go wrong.

13 notes · View notes

mxadrian779 · 4 years

Text

Abled Privilege within the Trans Community:

(a repost)

You have celebrity representation.

There are many openly queer and trans popular celebrities and more coming out all the time, but can you name two popular disabled celebrities? How about just one disabled actor or actress?

You can see or read about yourself in the media.

You can see or read about someone like you without their entire story revolving around their tragic life and inevitable death. Your character’s life is neither filled completely with bitterness nor bliss, and does not require the friendship of an ignorant outsider who tentatively reached out to help you overcome your life.

Oh, and you can find characters like you who have, you know, actual lives with romances, friendships, emotions, etc.

You’re allowed to fight for more, and proper representation.

You can say that we need trans actors/actresses to play trans characters without being laughed out of the room. But God forbid we should ask that disabled people play disabled parts!

And your characters are allowed to actually, you know, live.

You can find characters like you whose stories do not revolve around their deaths. See above.

You have campaigns dedicated to enlightenment and education about your identity.

Women’s studies. African-American studies. Queer studies. Disabled studies?!

Pride month. Black history month. Women’s history month. Disabled history month?!

We’re taught about the oppression, liberation, and ongoing struggles of women and POC in school, but remain silent on anything about disabled oppression and struggles. Hmm.

You have allies and social justice warriors who will respect you, listen to you, and defend you.

You have outsiders who will support you, fight for you, listen to you and share your words. There are no such people for the disabled community. We don’t have allies, advocates, “white knights” or “social justice warriors” helping to educate others about our needs and correct others’ problematic language and attitudes. We’re expected to be our own advocates, our own defenders, but when we are, we’re invalidated, silenced, and erased.

You’re recognised as a minority and your identity is considered in the diversity equation.

When you think “minority” or “diversity,” what comes to mind? POC. Women. LGBT. Immigrants. Religious minorities. The disabled minority is so far down the totem pole, it’s not even funny. We’re simultaneously the most and least visible.

You have access to transitional steps without health barriers.

You’re physically able to alter your appearance. Transition is more accessible to you, whereas people of disability have barriers to such transitional steps as binding, hormones, even just the ability to change clothing style.

You had access to your identity from a young age.

You can reach back into your childhood and find times when you distinctly knew you were different. You can find times you pointed to someone else and felt that you aligned with them—you knew you were more aligned with someone of a different gender, and therefore recognised your identity. People of disability have no such luxury. We have always been and will always be so held apart from mainstream society that we can’t possibly align ourselves with anyone’s identity. We can’t point to someone of a different gender and know that we aspired to be like them because we knew we never could be like them. We never had access to a normal frame of reference, so we had no way of being able to distinguish an identity based on anything other than our disability. We can’t identify certain discrepancies in our identity when our entire life is a discrepancy.

You have one dysphoria, and you know what it is.

People of disability often have dysphoria revolving around their disability. When compounded with gender dysphoria, it’s hell. It’s often hard to distinguish between them.

You don’t have to worry about people thinking your identity is a byproduct of your disability.

You had been allowed into the military.

This is where the military debate rubs me the wrong way. People of disability never had the privilege of enlisting. We were the first minority to be excluded.

You physically can access any restroom.

Again, this debate offends me. Sure, we should allow trans people to use the restroom they feel comfortable with, but we need to remember the privilege they have of even being able to physically access restrooms. There are still restrooms that are not handicap accessible, but that never enters the conversation.

You’re not the subject of pity, and you’re not exploited for others to feel better about themselves.

You’re not seen as grotesque and people are not afraid to approach you.

People aren’t patronising towards you.

When people approach you, they don’t treat you like a child and assume you’re less capable than you look.

You can stand up for yourself without being shut down.

You get to feel safe, heard, and understood in your own spaces, and you get to share your experiences and concerns in progressive crowds without them mocking and invalidating you and calling you oversensitive with a “victim complex.”

Your life isn’t expected to come with a disclaimer or a back story.

People respect your privacy and don’t expect you to tell them how you “got that way” or what tragedy you might have had in your background. You’re not viewed as the result of some horrific event, and you’re not seen as the lowest life form—no one ever worries about becoming transgender.

You have a solid, accessible community, both physical and online.

People of disability feel and often are isolated everywhere they go, and there’s a distinct lack of a sense of community even among our own, which likely owes to the lack of community extended to us from abled society.

How can you be a better abled ally?

Don’t use handicap restrooms or parking spaces.

Don’t block handicap entryways—don’t stand in the middle of a ramp, etc.

Be courteous. Don’t stare. Hold doors for people with mobility disabilities.

Listen to people of disability. Listen to our concerns, our experiences, and don’t speak over us with what you think you know.

Don’t use ableist language, and if someone corrects your language, listen, respect, and correct—don’t try to pretend what you said was acceptable. We know ret*rd is ableist, but so is l*me.

Make an effort to incorporate people of disability into your creative canon. Diversity is great, but it’s not diversity if it omits a crucial forgotten minority.

#trans #trans day of visibility #transgender #transgender day of visibility #people of disability #disability #disabled #abled privilege #trans people of disability #abled privilege in the trans community #visibility #social justice #call out post #ableism #queer #lgbt #lgbtqia #check your privilege

4 notes · View notes