#the issue is that baby needs a two parent household right

[tteokdoroki]

˗ˏˋ 💎  JJK MEN AS OVERPROTECTIVE GIRL DADS gojo, sukuna & geto .ᐟ

⋆˙ ᯓ★  about ! “a little girl’s first love will always be her father." three scenarios in which the daughters of three jjk men introduce their boyfriends to their fathers. ( 5.7K )

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. video banner. not beta read. sfw, fluff, angst if you squint, no-curses!au, mentions of pregnancy, children and babies, the children have no names, some family issues, married life, domestic bliss, husband + father!jjk men, mother + fem!reader.

sonic says ! hello everyone !! i wanted to try my hand at some head canons and scenarios, i couldn’t get this idea out of my head so put a pause on working on kinktober to write it lol!! hope you enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ 

ᯓ★ SATORU GOJO:

before meeting you, satoru gojo had never been fond of a family dinner. 

in his childhood home — they were cold and quiet, pockets of clattering cutlery would cut through painstaking silence and distract from the loud emptiness of the seat at the head of the table where his own father was supposed to be. his mother, often solemn and sunken in the shoulders, never spoke. never cooked and slipped small bites to her son in between preparation or steps.

they had staff for that, they had staff for everything.

to keep the household clean and together. to keep him fed and breathing. to keep him alive. all requirements felt almost clinical, the environment in which he was raised almost like the white walls of a hospital — without a trace of love needed for a child like satoru gojo needed to thrive. 

even if he had all the money in the world, he hadn’t a drop of love. he wasn’t ever sure if he was capable of the warm and fuzzy emotion, didn’t know if it was something his heart could ever open up to — sealed in by layers of cool, cold concrete and cement. kept in a safe without a key. at least until you miraculously found it and melted the thick layers of ice blocking satoru’s veins. you brought back colour to his cheeks and light to his eyes, taking up the space in his heart where his family had left a swirling, black void. 

to satoru, you were a saving grace. his everything… and he swore he’d never be like his father; who left his wife unhappy and empty, like a abandoned shell. he promised; he’d do much better than his parents ever did. especially when you found out you were pregnant, even more so when your little girl came into the world with plentiful white curls and lashes, screaming at the top of her teeny tiny lungs. 

at the time, you were sure you’d never seen satoru gojo so in love ( and so teary eyed too ) — but you knew what becoming a parent meant to him. what it meant for the new life you now shared.

but now, having met you and married you and created life with you — satoru had found a new appreciation for family dinners. they were a sacred event, a special time for him to keep up with the lives of his children and let them know he was there. present. 

it wasn’t a time to be imposed on and certainly not by meddlesome boyfriends brought home by sixteen year old daughters.

“so kid, what’s your 401K look like?” 

satoru carries a look of disdain, his nostrils flared, blue eyes narrowed and perfect pink lips curled in an unhappy frown. 

the young boy opposite him, a little scrawny and awkward, shrinks underneath the white haired man’s intense gaze — if you squinted, you could probably see him shaking like a little leaf in the intense wind from across the table “um… i don’t know?”

“hear that little guy? no 401K… how’s he meant to take care of your sister. yeah, yeah.

you’re right, i’ll give him a chance,” he mutters to the baby boy snoozing happily in his arms under his breath, engaging in a one sided conversation before switching his focus back to his daughter’s…sorry excuse for a partner. “okay then… finances, clearly not. academics and common sense —“ pausing,  the white haired father of two clicks his tongue, pushing it into the soft flesh on the inside of his cheek as if to feel his next words out in his mouth. “do you even know what a bouquet of flowers is, kid? a corsage? gojo women don’t play about their flowers, yanno.” 

“sir—“

without giving the boy a chance to speak, gojo drops his intrusive gaze under the table and back up again — pointing an accusatory finger at his little girl’s partner. “your top button’s undone and your shoe laces are untied. you might wanna fix that! if you care about my daughter’s safety!” he turns his nose up all petulant like a picky toddler being forced to eat his veggies, he even sticks his tongue out for good measure. gojo’s eccentric movements nearly jostle his sleepy son in place. the baby whines and gurgles a little bit, only soothed by a pat to his back from dad — who repositions him to snooze over his shoulder.

in a silent, quieter gesture, satoru uses two fingers to point between his eyes and the boy’s. almost as if to say ‘i’m watching you.’

catching him in the act, the eldest gojo daughter bounces into the room carrying plates of steaming hot food, exhaling with worm down patience evident in her body language. “daddy please, you don’t act like this normally. stop messing around.” rolling her eyes, she sets the dishes down, freeing up her hand to smack the back of her dad’s clearly empty skull. just like her mother.

“well sooooorrry for being a good dad and caring about your wellbeing! who you’re dating! who you’re bringing into our bloodline!” gojo rebuttals with petish grunts, unable to cradle the back of his injured head like he does with his son.  

and as if by magic, you, his beautiful and loving and gorgeous wife appear with dinner plates in hand to double down on a scolding the white haired man. amused, you also swat at your husband’s head and tut down at him. “satoru? what are you doing?” there’s something about the way you tease and tell gojo off that always makes his heart race, even after all these years of marriage and raising his kids. he loves you, his family so much. he almost keens into your touch like a pathetic dog, until your daughter starts gagging at the sight — slipping into her set. you were supposed to be watching the baby. not interrogating the poor kid.” 

“we’re having a heart to heart, babe,” gojo swoons, clearing his throat as his head bobs in the direction of his daughter’s boyfriend. “jimbob here was just telling me about his 3.4% grade point average.”

“it’s hiro sir! and uh… 3.5% sir.” the boyfriend in question chirps shyly.

you know that your husband feels… almost threatened by another man entering your daughter’s life — they’ve been practically inseparable since the moment she first opened her eyes. to give up the duty of loving and protecting her and pass it onto someone else is probably what scares him the most. “that’s pretty good hun!” you comment absentmindedly, hoping to pull satoru away from the conversation.

“no it’s not! our daughter has a 4.0%.”

“s-she was failing in math, i was tutoring her.” the boyfriend hopefully interjects again, whispering next when the baby stirs at the dining table. “i hope that makes up for my 401K sir. i-i also work part time to save for college and—!” 

“haha — no i wasn’t!” the younger gojo girl tenses in place, elbowing her date in the ribs not so discretely from under the table. it’s this interaction that makes her father smile, only briefly, before you scowl his way.

“i thought you told them we met at a tutoring session.” 

“you were failing?” you raise a brow, taking your own seat beside her father. 

“see! this boy failure is a bad influence on our daughter!” a glare settles on the slopes of satoru’s angelic features, mirrored by your child’s unimpressed expression across the table. in his arms, your youngest fusses about as if he senses the mounting tension at the table — earning a bounce or two from daddy, who turns your way all matter-of-factly like. “see, this why he doesn’t have a 401K”

“why would a teenager have a 401k, satoru!” comes your exasperated sigh.

“i had one when i was his age.” satoru shoots back and the kid sinks nervously in his seat. the poor boy looks as though he wants to disappear, squirming in place like he’s no better than a worm on a bait hook — it’s torture being interrogated and inspected by someone so close to the person you love most, but even he knows how important satoru’s approval is to your daughter.

she wouldn’t say it now, not when she was all grown up and finding her way out in the world — but she idolised gojo, all of her fondest memories are painted in his colours. shades of sapphire and azure like his vivid eyes, snowy white from his hair that almost rivals the clouds in the sky — the backdrop to days spent riding her father’s shoulders through the big wide world, racing down grassy green hills and wasting the hours away. she wouldn’t admit it here, today, but she never wanted to leave those memories. leave her father behind in her youth — it was written on each dip and curve and highlight on her youthful face, she wanted her father to move into this next phase of life with her too.

“daddy, you were a trust fund baby with shit grades and no prospects until you met mum,” she huffs but her words hold no malice, even if the sass brims over the edge of her tone like an emotionally charged, overflowing glass of water. you’d chide her for cursing — but you know she means well, stubbornly expressing her desire for approval to her man child of a father. “a loser, if you will.” 

gojo slumps, the rosey petals of his plump lips pushing into an age old pout. “how could you say that about dear old dad?” he whines, as though he’s a wounded animal. 

“well she’s not wrong, baby. you were a loser satoru, you still are.” the words are fond and light hearted on your tongue, a similar state to the wisps of a smile that trace over your own lips. leaning in close, you tickle the nose of the gurgling baby boy in his arms, heart heavy with affection — grateful that the one interaction you had with your husband all those years ago ( when he was a scrapier and misunderstood ) led you both to the beautiful chaotic family you have together now. “a hot one at least.” 

“gross.” your daughter groans and buries her embarrassed gaze in the spread of food on the neatly laid table — grabbing a plate and piling it high to cope.

her boyfriend chuckles nervously, wanting nothing more but to eat and do the same. desperate to hide from gojo’s intimidating aura, but too afraid to cross another one of his ridiculous invisible lines. “i think that’s very sweet mrs gojo!”

the brief moment of peace in the war of dad v boyfriend is then interrupted by the white haired man’s temper tantrum, realising that his only daughter is still in the room. “don’t push it kid.” the father of your children all but wails and finds something else about the young couple to pick apart. “you’re sitting too close together! move apart!” 

“daddy—!”

“w-what?”

“i said move it or lose it kid, before i keel over and die of heartbreak.” ��betrayal. my own daughter, leaving me for someone else.” 

the two separate, shifting their chairs away from one another despite never actually being too close. you share an empathetic look with your eldest, empathetic to your husband’s actions. you both knew he wouldn’t handle the meeting well, but this was beyond your whilst dreams. the young couple’s hands remain intertwined under the table cloth as the meal begins properly, and when satoru notices, he doesn’t comment — biting down hard on his unhappy tongue. he knows all too well what it’s like to love against the odds, his father in law hardly wanted him around you. it’s not like he wasn’t aware how bad he was for you, how your standards might have even dropped for the man to be with him. but you loved satoru with your entire being, wholly and against all of your own parent’s wishes. 

in a way, the dinner tonight reminds him of himself meeting your father for the first time — how he had to work for his approval too. prove that he was more than just a spoilt brat. too caught up in the memories, the odd sense of loss threaded between his every breath and the love he holds for his daughter settled in his lungs — gojo almost kissed the way you whisper to him adoringly, head drooping to rest on his shoulder mostly to look at your baby but partly to comfort him. “you’re being dramatic satoru. look at them, don’t you just love young love.” 

and he does, he looks, really looks — softly staring across the table and through the haze of his own judgement, noticing how happy his little girl looks all wrapped up with her boyfriend. all he’s ever wanted is to keep her smiling, give her a life that his parents couldn’t give him, he feels all of his resentment and fear or losing his daughter melt away like a plain sheet of paper dissolving in water. he loves her too much to not let her be happy, his baby. his little girl. 

“no, not at all,” satoru finally relents with a wobbling voice and silvery tears that dot his vision — shaking his head back and forth to stop them from dropping onto his sleeping son gathered in his arms. “w-why would you say that? god, is it allergy season? my eyes are killing me. they’re not cute at all, why would you say that i’m crying?” 

your teenage daughter glances over, relief evident in all of her identical gojo features. “no one mentioned you crying, daddy.” she coos softly in an attempt to console satoru.

it doesn’t work, he starts dry heaving and sobbing. which is new for her, he hasn’t cried this hard since her baby brother was born.

the kid scrambles into his pocket and damn near stumbles over the table in order to hand your white haired lover a tissue. “i don’t think you’re crying sir!” 

“shut up!” gojo sniffles dramatically, putting on his best theatre kid act and drapes himself ( and the baby ) all over you. “shit, is this cushioned tissue? three ply?” pale, deft fingers swipe at the blue pools of eyes which well with tears while the kid nods over enthusiastically — desperate to please his girlfriend’s guardian. “good stuff this is… but this doesn’t mean i approve of you for my daughter!”

“gojo!” 

“whaaaaat!? he doesn’t have a 401K!”

ᯓ★ RYOMEN SUKUNA:

if you’d told sukuna, almost a decade and a half ago, that he would end up with a life shrouded in domestic bliss — he would have laughed in your face. maybe even called you a cunt whilst telling you to fuck off. back then, when he was younger and the spirit of ambitious fire burned brightly in his veins as though he had petroleum for blood, the pink haired man never dreamed of settling down. buying a house. getting married. or having kids.

he was as untameable as a wild horse, with only one goal in mind. to open up his restaurant and get his family out of that shithole town by all and any means. he’d cross whatever rivers he had to, climb whatever mountains he needed to — push past societal hurdles that judged him for the pink in his hair and the thick ink on his body. ryomen sukuna did not care. not about anyone else, only about his goals.

at least, until he met you. 

in many ways, you were a blessing to the world where sukuna was a curse. his complete opposite, the day to his night. though the worlds and lives you came from were completely different — 

nowadays, the man is a little softer around the edges and weaker in the heart — they say that’s what true love does to you.

a set of keys jingle at the front door, followed by the dull thud of trainers on the shoe rack and footsteps on the mahogany wood floor. sukuna hardly looks up from the article he’s reading — something about the best recipes for autumnal vegetables. who would have thought, ryomen sukuna, reading up on gardening. he would tell anyone who asked it was for his restaurant, not because he actually enjoyed it. would make him look soft. 

“hey, i’m home!” the voice that calls to him is sweet and youthful, a dulcet symphony that tugs paternally at the pink haired man’s heart strings. “is ma here?” 

sukuna smiles to himself behind the newspaper, inhaling its fresh ink scent. “in the kitchen, workin’,” he replies absentmindedly, listening to his daughter skid down the hall after dropping her backpack. “oi squirt, you ain’t slick. you know what day it is, report card. now.” 

there’s a dramatic sigh that follows footsteps trailing back into the living room. sukuna’s daughter, his pride and joy clings onto the doorframe with a scowl that could very well rival his own, ruby red eyes twinkling with annoyance — she’s in a rush to chat with her mother after school, he knows, but he can’t help but to tease her just a bit. “s’in my bag, can i go now?” she whines impatiently but takes off at the first gentle nod from her father in reply. 

but the pink haired parent’s peaceful evening is quickly turned upside down at the discovery he makes in the bottom of his pride and joy’s bag. no matter how much time has passed, how many decades have gone by in which he’s been a father — nothing could prepare him for this new challenge, the new wave of emotions that come with having a tween daughter and swirl hotly in his chest.

“what the fuck is this?” he announces with a foul snarl, slipping into the kitchen where his girls chitchat idly over a test batch of cookies sukuna had made earlier in the day. for his restaurant of course. not because he’s a doting husband or loving father. he’s got an image to uphold and it’s not one of domestic bliss. 

his daughter chirps, not looking up from the sweet treat she picks apart and pops into her mouth — seated on the kitchen island while you work away on your laptop. “what’s what, daddy?” her innocent nonchalance about the older sukuna’s discovery almost makes him pop a vein. “also, ma told you to stop saying the f-word. so, swear jar.”

the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink pokes his tongue into the soft epithelium of his cheek, his jaw ticks and a playful frustration tingles throughout all four of his limbs. the swear jar was something you’d brought into play as soon as [daughter name] had learned how to talk, afraid that your rough and rugged husband’s potty mouth would rub off on her young impressionable mind. every time a cursed word falls from between ryomen sukuna’s lips, a couple hundred yen is popped into the jar as punishment. the thing was practically full by your baby’s third birthday, so you’ve been putting it down as her college fund ever since.

paper rustles between deft and tattooed fingers as sukuna reveals not a report card, but a crinkled note like the kind passed back and forth between distracted kids in the middle of that one class before lunch. “don’t play dumb with me, squirt.” ryomen holds the note up to the light so that both of his girls can see, blood diamond eyes squinting so he can inspect it better. somebody get this guy his glasses. “‘do you want to go out with me? tick for yes, cross for no.’” he reads out loud, each word leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, his frown so deep that lines of disapproval form on his well-aged face.

thoughts of the once all-important report card vanish into thin air, the relaxed aura in the room replaced with a palatable tension that not even your husband’s finest knives could cut. your precious baby girl shoots up from the counter to scramble with her dad over the note in hand. he holds her back with a large palm to the forehead.

“oh my god! you weren’t supposed to see that! daddy, give it here. please!”

“fat chance, squirt,” the tattooed man retorts. “you passin’ notes in class? that why you’re hidin’ your report card?” 

“you can have my report card, when you give that back!”

with the two standing side by side, the resemblance strikes you as clear as day. they share the same hair, same scowl and same rugged intonation to their voices. they’re both yours, your entire world under one roof. before they can blow said root off, you stand between the elder and younger sukuna — turning to your husband with hooded eyes and a gentle hand on the centre of his broad chest. “oh ryo,” you coo in flirtation, slowing his train of thought as you sneakily swipe the crushed paper from his grip. “shut up ‘n let me see that.”

your daughter gags behind you at the display of affection, contrasting with the amused smirk you share with your long time lover. after all this time, marriage and the perfect kid, you’re still able to make a fool out of him — make sukuna’s heart skip a beat and a heat he refuses to acknowledge crawl up the back of his neck. he’s gone soft, for you and his family. for now, for you, he relents on taunting his precious little girl. 

casting your gaze over the note, you grin at the pink-ink chicken scratch scribbled across the page. it’s sweet and endearing, reminding you of young love. “did atsushi finally ask you out?” you ask tenderly, handing the paper back to your daughter who cuddles it to her chest like the  physical version of a precious memory. 

a bashful expression lines the contours of her face, seeping into features you’d recognise from your husband on her. sukuna would argue that she has the shape of your eyes and your beauty too — but all you see is a culmination of love. “ma you were so totally right, playing hard to get really works!” 

she gushes dreamily over her crush like it’s puppy love, biting her lip and bouncing on the spot. 

“like a charm, every time.” comes your entertained response, much to your husband’s dismay.

“you weren’t playin’ hard to get with me…” sukuna questions rather than states, trying to piece together parts of the gossip that he’s missed. an anxiety corners the beat of his heart at the thought of his daughter dating, something in which the burly man never thought he would be afraid of. the world had been hard on sukuna; he only worries that it’s not as safe for his pride and joy as it were for him.   “never mind that; the brat asked you out with a piece of paper?  y’better not have said yes. we have standards here.” 

his words make you roll your eyes with the hint of a smile. ryomen almost reminding you of your own father around the time you’d met him.

your daughter scrunches her nose petulantly, gearing herself up for a witty reply. “well ma married you, so her standards can’t be that high.” she snaps, earning a stifled laugh from you and an unimpressed grunt from her hardheaded dad. “and no, i didn’t. told him he needed to ask me out  properly. face to face. with words. he said to meet him on the running track tomorrow at lunch for a surprise!”

pulling her into a hug, you kiss her round youthful cheek. “oh baby, i'm so happy for you!”

“well i ain’t! show me the damn kid, need to see what kind of pitiful brat wants to ask out my little girl,”  sukuna crosses his arms and grumbles to himself, black ink tattoos flexing menacingly as he does so. almost as if he’s preparing to threaten the kid before even meeting him. “whatever happened to askin’ for permission to court or whatever. he should have been on my doorstep asking for your hand.” 

“firstly you would have said no, and secondly this isn’t the olden days, dad. nobody does that anymore.” your cheeky daughter chides him loudly, her words slipping over her snarky little tongue. like father like daughter, the way they snip and snap at one another has an uncanny resemblance.

tilting your head upwards towards your fuming husband, you laugh breathlessly in a way that washes away his anger.“she’s right ryo; though my dad hardly approved of you either.” you say softly. even now, you make him feel weak in the knees and dizzy in the mind, like he’s so anything for you. whoever dates his daughter should feel the same about her.

“i freakin’ earned it, didn’t i? 

“just barely.”

sukuna huffs but settles a hand on your waist from behind and his head atop yours. he needs to soothe himself somehow, his daughter is growing too fast. “stop ganging up on me and lemme see the damn kid.” 

“here, isn’t he cute.” 

lips downturned, sukuna craned his neck to look at your daughter’s phone from over your shoulder — scrutinising the instagram page that she’s opened now offering the kid his only child has taken an interest in like a lamb at the slaughterhouse. “brat looks like a noodle.” haughty laughter fills the kitchen, reverberating against the bones and organs in ryomen’s chest and buzzing right though your back. “you’re right i woulda said no as soon as he fuckin’ turned up!” 

two sets of scolding eyes similar in shape, belonging to the two girls he loves the most swivel around to face the pink haired man disapprovingly.

“ryomen sukuna!” 

“daddy!”

“yeah yeah, i know. swear jar.”

ᯓ★ SUGURU GETO:

“my love, were you aware that our little munchkin has a boyfriend?”

suguru looks up from the bubbling pot of child friendly pasta sauce on the stove. if it were just the two of you having dinner tonight, like it was merely three (nearly four) years ago — he would have planned for a more adventurous meal. perhaps sought out a bottle of fine aged wine for you both to enjoy on the balcony and even gotten a dessert to sweeten the date in. but now, you both had more than two hungry tummies to worry about, and bottles of wine could only be purchased when the little one was off with her uncle satoru.

“no, i wasnt. i don't believe that’s come up in discussion before,” your dark haired lover turns his narrow gaze to the giggly little girl swaddled in your arms — her chubby cheeks and dark, curious eyes just peeking out of the fluffy duck-themed towel you’ve wrapped her in. bath time is usually after bed, but someone got into the paint pots at nursery school and managed to get blotches of blue streaked through her hair and under her fingernails. “care to elaborate sweetheart?”

suguru taps the wooden sauce spoon against the side of the pot and swipes his hands on a nearby tea towel before allowing them to rest on his hips, look of faux irritation settling on the contours of his face and slopes of his features. thin brows draw together like closed gates in the middle of his forehead — the expression earning airy light and squealed laughter from your baby girl.

“nuh uhhh! not my boy-fend!” she babbles her way through the big girl word, missing a few syllables here and there, but geto still grins with pride — happily leaning forward to press enthusiastic kisses to his little angel’s damp forehead. “no boy-fend papa!

bouncing your daughter slightly, you cock your hip out to hold her weight and cheekily roll your eyes. “such a daddy’s girl, lying to him already? he’ll let you get away with anything if you keep that up,”  though you muster up a pout to rival the toddler’s, the uncanny resemblance warming the cockles or your husband’s heart, your tone is playful and adoring — it’s lilt full of love for the baby girl you made together. you pinch her chubby cheek, waggling it from side to side as more of her childlike laughter tangles with the scent of pasta in the air.  “we bumped into the fujioka boy and his mother at the gates this morning, he held her hand all the way up to the classroom. it was quite cute. you had to be there, love.” 

“i’m sure,” he responds, gentle mirth and protectiveness swirling in dark framed eyes.

you relay the information to your husband as though it’s hot gossip fresh from the press, whispering over your dark-haired daughter’s head not so secretly. even with the hair and eyes to match suguru’s, she’s still just as much your carbon copy as she is his — he tends to say all of her spirit comes from you, not to mention the way she laughs and smiles.

shaking her head between you, both — your baby chimes in brightly. “noooo mama!! boys are gross, i don’ hold hands with boys.”

this time suguru manoeuvres to pinch her other chubby cheek, clicking his tongue as he does so. “not even papa?” he pretends to pout, crouching down with his hands on his knees to coo into her sweet little face. 

“nuhhh, papa isn’t gross!! papa is my favourite boy!” she quickly tacks on with a dribbly smile.

“that’s right. i’ll be the only boy in your life always, just you and i princess,” your husband reaffirms with a firm shake of his head and presses a promise in the form of a kiss to your daughter’s nose. her chubby little hands, still wet from bath time, smack either side of suguru’s face and keep him close — close enough for her to plant a soggy smooch onto his forehead affectionately. a wet kiss only a father could love. “that settles it, i’m no longer sharing my kisses. papa says no boyfriends until you’re ninety.”

once your two loves are done sharing their candied affections, you seat your daughter on the edge of the kitchen table to allow geto the room to finish up with dinner. the comforting symphony of baby babbles and kitchen utensils clanking and food boiling fills the steamy air, it makes you smile. it feels like home. “oh come on suguru, they’re only three. don’t you think it’s the tiniest bit adorable?” you say with a sing-songy voice, entertaining both your little one and her father.“they even share their animal crackers during break time and crayons when it’s time to colour, one of the supervisors told me.”

with his back now to you as he stirs through the pasta sauce one final time, you hardly miss the way suguru’s shoulders tense at the mention of the little boy your girl has taken a liking to. he wouldn’t dare frown about it in front of her, what upsets daddy upsets baby too. that’s why he’s always smiling for her, and you find the man’s subtle jealousy endearing. it’s always supposed to be suguru and his princess, with no room for anyone else ( aside from you, of course ) 

“nope, no boyfriends. no amount of cuteness can convince me otherwise.” voice falling tight and flat, suguru reaches into the cupboards for plates and bowls to dish up his lovingly prepared home cooked meal, slamming them into place at the table with a little less patience than before. 

the idea of some… little boy chasing after his daughter’s heart? over his dead body.

“boy-fends are gross!” but your daughter is forever a daddy’s girl, furrowing her brow and crossing her tiny arms in an act of defiance — supporting her papa’s cause. boyfriends are bad! 

fuelling her excitement and even more support for papa — food is served shortly by your husband, who plates up as best as he can with toddler safe dinnerware. you adjust your little girl into her high chair at the table, giggling to yourself softly when she cranes her neck to keep an eye on suguru. “does that mean papa’s gross? he’s technically mama’s boyfriend.”

“husband, love, there’s a difference.” 

three plates of hot, aromatic spaghetti are organised in a table — each a domestic reminder of the family suguru geto has been blessed with. in that moment, he thinks he would be happy if he spent the rest of his life as just the three of you. briefly his mind wonders to setting a fourth place at the table in a decade or so’s time, once his daughter truly is old enough to date. the very thought makes him feel ill. 

round, doe eyes dart between you and suguru as you take your seats either side of your darling daughter at the table — she mimics you both with fumbling little fingers that reach for her baby fork and concentrates as she attempts to repeat your husband’s words. “can i have a husbsband-love?”

you laugh and kiss her cheek, helping her to gather a bite of pasta on the full end of her fork. “husband. just husband, my love. make sure you blow on your food please!” she follows your instructions with a comical air, cheeks puffing and breath huffing while you explain why her father is a second away from blowing his top. “good girl. husband’s aren’t for babies, baby. and i think papa might not like it if you got one now.”

“if you got one ever!” suguru interjects, eyes narrowing while he fights with his lips to avoid a scowl. “the answer is still no, princess. no husbands and no boyfriends until papa is old, cold and in the ground.” 

now that your hands are free, you grab the nearest tea towel and wind it up in your grip — launching its tail end at geto as though to swat at  him. he jumps in surprise and your daughter shrieks in amusement as she begins babbling again. “don worry, papa!. fujioka is  no my boy-fend!!” she says over food in her mouth and happy tummy. geto wipes over her face again. she’ll definitely need another bath later. “hasegawa is!!”

the pair of you share a look and this time, you really think suguru might just throw in the towel. 

how could he compete with pre-school love and paint pots shared over playtime gossip? 

“two boyfriends? oh god, love… i think need some air.”

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[paradiseprincesss]

Ooo I have been loving ALL your fics and your robert fischer one gave me an idea… the reader is a call girl who grew up poor, he hires us and after a while slowly falls in love with her and feels guilty and happy ending for both of my sad babies🥹

pov - robert fischer x reader

hi anon! I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG but i love this - robert fischer will always be a soft character in my mind, i feel like he's just...like that. i just feel like he's a sad and lonely guy with the sweetest heart - i need a robert fischer in my life fr.

summary: as a call girl, your life was chaotic. ever since you were a little girl you had struggled with both self acceptance and self love, but you suddenly meet a client who changes your perspective of everything you thought you knew.

word count: 4,444 exactly lol

warnings: smut 18+ minors dni!!, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, kissing, swearing, mentions of toxic household, daddy issues, mentions of escorting/prostitution lol

…to be loved is to be changed.

you never know when you'll meet the one that changes everything - fate is funny that way. you don't know when they'll show up in your life, maybe you already know them, maybe you don't.

"god, you have no idea what it's like for me! i was struggling to pay my tuition. i'm doing what i have to do to get by, mom!" you scream, tears streaming down your face.

"then go get a job," she yelled back at you, "being some old mans escort is not a real job!"

"i'm- jesus, i'm a call girl it's- it's just different, okay? and it pays well. i can't continue to pay for college if i don't do this. you know a regular job doesn't pay shit." you say, your hands trembling as you argued with your mom.

the one figure in your life that was supposed to show you unconditional love wasn't there for you; but you didn't hold any animosity towards her. she was struggling as much as you were. did.

not anymore.

you hated this - fighting and arguing with her. it hurt you deeply. but, you did what you had to do to get by. your father wasn't in the picture, and your mother worked two jobs but that was barely enough to make ends meet.

your whole childhood was tumultuous, you grew up in a home with a single parent, the other one gone without a trace. you didn't know love growing up, and honestly, it fucked up your perception of the world - of the word love.

you put your all into school; it was the only thing that distracted you from your home life, and you were good at it. you managed to get pretty good grades in high school, no less than an A- in any subject you took, and post-graduation, you got into a pretty good college in your area.

you had moved out the day you turned eighteen, eager and excited to go out and blossom in life; but reality hit you, hard.

rent was expensive, and paying for college? god, that was a struggle in itself. you worked the odd job here and there, whether it was a cashier job or waitressing job, but neither paid enough. you did a little online research and came across escorting. the only thing that really enticed you was the paycheque - and my goodness was it a hefty one.

you kept this life of yours a secret - but you told your mom the truth earlier when she came by to visit you. she was surprised to see the apartment you were living in; decked out and lavish. she'd asked you where you had gotten the money to pay for this from, and you told her what you were doing.

turns out your mother wasn't too happy about her daughter being a glorified escort, and after arguing with you, she slammed the door in your face, which left you a sobbing mess.

but at least you had money now, right?

after scoring a position with a lucrative company which you couldn't disclose for...certain reasons, you received your first job. then you booked another, and another, and soon, you were a top money maker there.

with a face like that and the body you had - you were not short on cash, let's just say that. you were getting paid thousands just to make appearances with rich men - and getting paid tens of thousands to sleep with them.

as much as you loved the cash, you were miserable on the inside. money got boring after a while, it was just another part of your unexciting, depressing, melancholy life.

diamonds and designer bags couldn't fix the hole in your heart, they couldn't fix the emptiness that lingered within you.

if there was someone who understood this feeling better than anyone else - it was robert fischer.

sure, he never grew up poor or struggled to have money, but he knew damn well that money couldn't solve all your problems. in fact, having a lot of money came with more problems, he thought.

robert didn't know love - it was unfamiliar to him. none of his ex-girlfriends loved him, they just loved his money. they didn't care about him, they just cared about cashing in.

and every time he broke it off with them, they would tell him "don't leave, i miss you" - but he knew better than that. they didn't miss shit but the money, designer bags, and the lavish lifestyle.

after a particularly agonizing day at work, robert came home to his penthouse; head clouded with stress. honestly, it had been months since he had sex - been forever since he just felt loved or had any form of intimacy.

he craved it real bad.

so, he sighed as he dialled the number on his phone, waiting as the line rung quietly. quickly, someone answered and he put in his request - "i'll give you fifteen grand to send over your best girl," was all he said over the phone, quickly giving his address over afterwards.

and that is the story of how you ended up as robert fischers personal call girl - but that was just the beginning.

when you first met robert, you were pleasantly surprised. usually, your clientele consisted of old, rich men who were (at least in your opinion) disgusting. however, robert on the other hand was handsome, young, kind and rich on top of all that.

he was your best client thus far, and you were his favourite girl - not that he had any other girls, anyway. he paid you way more than any other man did, and he tipped generously on top of that.

soon enough, you were only seeing robert - exclusively. for work reasons of course. and he tried to tell himself that, too. that this was just sex. it didn't mean anything, right?

wrong.

he pushed you down onto the bed gently, running his hands all over your body while his lips caught yours in a deep kiss. today, you were waiting for him in his penthouse wearing a baby pink, lacy babydoll with matching pink panties and some stockings.

robert damn near lost his mind when he saw you in your lingerie, his cock was straining against his pants the second he laid eyes on you - sprawled out on his bed, biting your lip teasingly.

"fuck, i love you in pink." he groaned against your lips - but what he was really trying to tell you was "i love you."

he positioned you so that you were now sat up against the headboard of his bed, propped up against the plush pillows looking like a princess. slowly, he took his hand up to your thigh, blue eyes still locked with yours, and teasingly started to take your stockings off. he did it excruciatingly slow with the other one, too.

once your stockings were off, he looked at you with admiration. he truly thought you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen. ethereal. "can i?" he asked softly, his hands now trailing down your inner thighs, dangerously close to your clothed heat.

"m-mhm." you hum with a small nod, trying not to lose your mind. keeping your composure around him was proving to become more and more difficult every time.

he hooked his finger into the waistband of the tiny, lacy, pink thong and pulled it down your legs, groaning softly at the sight of your cunt all soaked for him.

"you're soaked. i can see it." he said lowly, and it takes every fucking ounce of self restraint you have in your body not to moan at the way he says it.

"y-yeah. s'cause of you, robbie." you say softly as he spreads your legs open, his mouth watering at the sight. he peppered kisses onto the insides of your thighs, teasingly kissing everywhere except where you so desperately needed him to kiss you.

"please." you whisper, and that was all he needed to hear before he was lapping up your pretty pussy. he licked a stripe up your cunt and you let out a desperate moan at the feeling of his mouth on you.

he continued to eat you out as if it was the last thing he'd ever do, making your head spin. you were moaning his name over and over, begging him to let you cum on his face as he sucked on your clit.

he took one of his fingers and slowly started to pump it in and out of your soaking hole. "oh fuck, i-i need you inside of me." you pleaded, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to release.

"only if you cum on my tongue, baby." he says between your legs, and you started to gasp and moan as you felt your orgasm approach you at full speed.

"i'm- gonna cum!" you desperately cry, feeling yourself cream all over his face as he took every last drop of it.

he sat up wiping his mouth and chin, glistening with your slick, and smiled at you dopily - he was in heaven.

“lay back on the bed for me, princess.” he commanded softly, and you oblige immediately. as you find comfort within the huge, king-sized bed and soft pillows, he unbuttoned his white dress shirt and undid his tie, taking it off while you watched like a predator stalking its prey.

next came his slacks, which he was rushing to get out of. as his cock sprung free from his boxers, your body felt like it was going into overdrive. robert got between your legs and took hold of your hips before lining his cock up with your drooling entrance.

slowly, he pushed in and the both of you let out sinful sounds. sex never had any meaning for you - it was just your profession, you didn’t know any different. but when he was inside you, when you let him into you - things felt...different.

robert was in way too deep to get out now (both figuratively and literally), and he slowly started to thrust himself in and out of you at a slow pace. one thing you noticed about robert, especially when you guys were fucking, was that he never broke eye contact.

nobody had ever fucked you so sensually before, let alone with such care. he fucked into you gently, the both of you moaning and breathing heavily, and he got lost in your pretty eyes.

he loved you - and he knew it was wrong.

it was the one thing you shouldn’t do when hiring a call girl - fall in love with her. he knew he shouldn’t fall in love with a woman who’s literal job was to pretend that she loved you and fuck you right, but he couldn’t help it.

robert - like you - didn’t know what love was until he felt you. until he knew you.

“f-fuck, faster robbie.” you whispered, breathless and feeling almost out of touch with reality with how good he felt inside you - it was like he was made for you.

“god, you’re so fucking tight. you- ugh, you feel so good, baby.” robert moaned, and you could almost hear the desperation in his voice. “i’m already about to cum, jesus-“ he stammered, voice strained.

“then cum, ah-.” you urged, wrapping your arms around him in a way that was a little too intimate for it to just be part of your job.

“how much extra do you want, ten grand?” he panted as he fucked your pretty pussy, feeling you tighten up around his hard cock.

“wha- robbie, what?” you try to talk properly through the pleasure he was bringing you; it was overwhelming. you weren’t sure why he was bringing up payments and money now of all times, this had been discussed already at the beginning of…whatever this agreement was.

“how much to make you mine? please - i love you.” he said, losing himself in the feeling of you.

you felt your mouth go dry as the words fell from his lips, and in a panic you struggle from underneath him, trying your hardest to push him away.

“wait- wait, stop-“ you say all flustered and panicked. this wasn’t supposed to happen - this should never happen between you and your clients.

he stops as soon as you say the word, and you backup into the the headboard of the bed anxiously, grabbing the blankets to cover yourself up as soon as he had pulled out.

you had never known love before, so when you heard those words, it sent you into an abysmal spiral.

“i-i’m sorry, i just-“ he stammered, the two of you looking each other awkwardly, and robert felt his heart break in two silently.

“don’t apologize, it’s my fault.” you sigh, looking down.

“no, cmon- i shouldn’t have said that.” he said back, and you glanced at him for a second - he looked like he was hurting. like it physically hurt him to tell hear you turn him down in a sense.

you felt a tear run down your cheek, and you wiped it away, already embarrassed enough. this had never happened in front of a client before.

was robert just a client, though?

before you had a chance to answer your own question, robert answered it for you. he took his hand out, gentle and soft, and wiped the tears away from your cheek.

“what’s going on?” he spoke softly, and you just shook your head, avoiding all eye contact.

“i- please, i’m so embarrassed. i’m sorry. you don’t need to pay me for today.” you whisper.

he shakes his head, and grabs a robe that he had draped over the ottoman in front of his bed, and quickly threw it on. you stayed with the covers pulled up over your chest and the rest of your body, watching him carefully.

he approaches you cautiously, and without another word he pulls you into his embrace - warm and inviting, just like him.

it felt like the missing piece in your chaotic, incomplete puzzle that you called your life.

words failed you in that moment, but it felt foreign. the feeling of being loved, being comforted, being vulnerable was new to you. you didn’t know such feelings could exist - at least, you grew up thinking that anyway.

"i'm really sorry, i shouldn't have said that." he said softly, petting your hair gently. "no, it's- fine. i-i don't know why i reacted like that." you reassured him, not quite knowing the reason behind your erratic behaviour.

"we don't have to continue, okay?" he reassures you in a soothing tone, and you let yourself fall into the feeling of his touch and embrace for a moment too long, before coming to your senses.

"t-thank you," you mumble, "i just don't think i'm in a good head space right now."

"and that's okay." he reassures you once again - he was really good at that. "why don't we just end todays session and i'll see you again next week, same time?"

"yeah, okay. i'm sorry, robbie." you murmur, and robert could feel his heart beating rapidly as you said his name like that - the name you called him.

after that, you had left in a rush (and felt super unprofessional about it), profusely apologizing for what had happened but he kept telling you that it was okay.

once you got back to your place, you ran a hot shower for yourself to collect your thoughts and calm yourself down. after that, you got into bed and fell asleep quickly, exhausted from the day you had.

the next morning, you woke up feeling groggy, and frankly - still super embarrassed from yesterday. cringing at your own actions, you felt like you just wanted to curl up into a ball and never show your face again.

why did you react like that? why did you have to make a scene? why did robert's confession throw you off so badly?

deep down, you knew the answers to these questions.

you reacted like that because you grew up around constant chaos and poverty, you didn't know what it was like to be cared for, to be loved. you made a scene because for someone who's never known love, facing the unknown was terrifying.

but why did robert's confession throw you off? why?

you sat there in bed, wondering. wondering to yourself why he would want you of all people - some call girl he ordered because he was bored. why wasn't he with some other girl who had come from money like him? come from class? why would he chose you?

in that moment, it went right over your head, but his confession threw you off because you didn't feel worthy. you didn't know how to trust - you couldn't see yourself the way robert saw you, after all.

suddenly, you heard your phone buzz beside you. looking a the notification, you found yourself shocked. you had received an e-transfer from robert of double the normal amount he was paying you.

your jaw dropped and you had to re-read the numbers in your account to really make sure this was real. in a state of shock, you look through your contacts and give him a call in the spur of the moment.

"hello?" his slightly raspy morning voice answered, and you felt your heart do a little flip at the sound of it - but you pushed it aside.

"hey, robert, it's me," you say, taking in a breath, "i...you didn't have to pay me, i told you."

he sighed on the other line, "no, i shouldn't have...told you what i did. i'm sorry, i...i've been thinking about it."

you stayed silent, unsure of what to say next, but he continued talking regardless. "can we talk? i'll pay you for your time."

"you don't have to do that, robert. and yes, yeah let's, um, talk." you say to him, and the two of you arrange to meet at his at three.

you get yourself ready, doing your hair in your favourite hair style and your makeup all glamorous, throwing on your favourite saint laurent heels with a matching satin mini dress.

you rush out the door, and hopped into your car, speeding off to his place. usually, he would send a driver out to yours, but you were off the clock. he insisted over the phone, but you urged him that you could drive and it was fine.

as soon as you got to the building of his penthouse, he buzzed you in and you made your way up the elevator. after knocking on the door, he opened it with a small smile on his face. he was wearing the usual - suit and tie, of course.

as he welcomed you in, he told you about the meeting he had at his office earlier that day - hence the whole suit and tie getup.

"anyways, i'm sure i'm boring you with the details about my work meeting." he says, laughing softly and you smile. "not at all, it's refreshing to hear you talk about other parts of your life besides...you know, the usual stuff we talk about."

he smiled back at you, but it seemed he was having trouble getting his words out - he didn't know how to tell you what he wanted to tell you.

"er, please know that, fuck- i just, i didn't mean to scare you away with what i said." he stammered, clearly flustered.

"...what did you mean, robert?" you ask meekly, avoiding eye contact. he slowly steps a little closer, closing the gap between the two of you.

"i have feelings for you." he says, voice strained out of sheer nervousness.

"don't say that," you sigh, "this- us, it isn't real. it's just like, playing pretend."

you so desperately wanted to say, "me too, i fell for you too," but your insecurities stopped you. even though you worked in a profession where you were paid to be pretty, paid to look good as arm candy, you felt inadequate all the time. you didn't feel pretty - you felt indifferent. sometimes, you didn't even know who you were.

there was a lot of baggage that came with you, but it was nothing that would ever scare robert off.

"i know what it's like to 'play pretend,'" he said, emphasizing his words with air quotations, "i've done that for the last ten years of my life - with every woman i've ever dated. they pretended to like me for me and not my money, and i pretended that i didn't see what they were really doing."

"you're literally paying me to sleep with you, robert. this is transactional." you say, trying to convince yourself into thinking that was the truth.

"god- it's not. it's not, you know it, i know it. we both know it." he exasperates, and you look away again as he continues. "i can feel it in the way you touch me, the way you look at me, the way you say my name, i can tell. and i know you can tell by the way i hold you, talk to you - the way i don't want anyone else but you."

as he confessed, you felt your cheeks go pink. you didn't realize that he was this much of a romantic - it was kinda cute. it was obvious that he was so serious about this, but you on the other hand...

you weren't too convinced. you had never received such attention, such care or such...love before.

"why are you lying to yourself?" his voice snapped you out of your anxious thoughts, and you finally found the courage to meet his gaze.

trying your hardest not to get lost in his ocean eyes, you manage to get a response out. "i-i don't know. i guess i just don't understand it. i don't understand how you could like, fall in love with someone who does...what i do."

he sighed softly, tilting your chin up with his finger, forcing you to meet his gaze once again. "let me help you understand, then."

one second you were trying to deny every lovey-dovey feeling you had for him - and the next his lips were on yours. it just happened so naturally.

in that moment, you could feel every insecurity, every anxious thought, every piece of pent up trauma and trust issues subside with him.

he wrapped his arms around your waist lovingly, holding you in his embrace as he kissed you softly.

you were off the clock, and so was he. neither of you were your personas anymore. you weren't just some call girl anymore (not that he ever saw you as just that), and he wasn't robert fischer of fischer morrow right now - he was just yours.

you were the first to pull away from the kiss, and you looked up at him with a small smile, which he returned.

"you have no idea how much i care about you." he whispered softly, "i wish you could see yourself in the way that i see you."

his words struck a chord for sure, and you felt yourself getting teary eyed again. "jesus, robert - stop making me cry." you laugh softly, trying to hold back the tears.

"i want to know who you are - not the usual work stuff. tell me about your life." he said softly, keeping you close.

and so you did - you did exactly that. that evening, you had spent the whole time getting to really know each other. from childhood memories to what you ate for breakfast that day - no parts left out. he told you about himself too, and finally, you felt safe.

you finally felt like the years of walls you had built up were gradually coming down, and all the baggage you accumulated over the years was slowly fading.

you looked over the terrace of your suite in your lace slip, taking in the beauty of the eiffel tower which you could see from your luxurious hotel room.

"s'pretty, just like you." robert says, wrapping his arms around you from behind, placing a soft kiss behind your ear. "good morning, mrs. fischer."

ah, that's right.

you were mrs. fischer now - newly married and happier than ever. after that fateful night in roberts penthouse, the two of you just clicked. it was fate, no - destiny. it was like something you had never known before, the pull between you two was on a metaphysical level, and for once, you didn't fight the fall.

now, nearly three years later, you were taking in the gorgeous view of paris in the early morning on your honeymoon.

your wedding was beautiful - private and intimate - but beautiful. it was just the way you imagined it would be; everything you dreamed of. robert had proposed to you a week after you graduated from your program in college, and the two of you were happily in love - still happily in love, and always would be happily in love.

you decided to quit your call girl job, as there was no longer a need to work anymore at all. robert covered all of your finances, never once did you ever pick up the bill with him. he supported you in everything that you did, always being there for you and showing up for you when you most needed him.

he never judged you, never belittled you, never made you doubt how much he loved you. it was like he had superpowers with the way he was able to permeate through all the past trauma you had. it didn't matter to him if you were working in the escort business before he came along; he simply didn't care.

your past is in the past for a reason, that wasn't you anymore. you were a different woman now. softer and no longer had her guard up constantly. sometimes, you felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself.

because he loved you for you. he taught you how to be grateful for yourself, to show up for yourself, to love yourself the way he loved you.

"i love you so much, honey. god, i love everything about you." he said softly, kissing down your neck, making you giggle.

"mm, i'd love to see me from your point of view." you say, taking in the breathtaking view of paris, and your new life.

[mahi-wayy]

IF YOU'RE IN YOUR SRK ERA CAN I PLEASEEEEEE REQUEST A RAHUL RAICHAND HEADACANON PLEASEEEEEE

thankyou <3

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 | 𝑹𝑨𝑯𝑼𝑳 𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑫

• General • Romantic [both sfw and nsfw]

I - GENERAL

he has issues okay, like a lot of issues. raichands are NOT a normal family from any angle.

older sibling syndrome, attachment issues, self identity issues, anxiety, perfectionist behavior, self doubt, self loathing etc. the list goes on.

he needs a therapist.

anyways, is very close to his mother who by the way isn't as good as she looks in the movie. this has nothing to do with how I feel abt jaya bachchan I am talking abt nandini raichand here

she was relatively immature emotionally and not well accustomed to raichand household when rahul was adopted.

that made her very unsure of whether to emotionally handle herself or give it to her adopted son.

was very protective of him on some instances while other he was left totally unguarded emotionally and otherwise, that created a internal conflict in him.

the friction became clear crack in his sense of belonging and identity when he found out he was adopted. another exhibit of nandini and yash being shit parents, why was a eight year old able to find out he is adopted

by the time he reached say 12, rohan was born and the older sibling syndrome kicked it pretty fast. I will tell you why

see rohan was said to be a miracle child right? but him being born took a toll on nandini and yash is a absent father most of the time.

basically it a early teen rahul managing his baby brother and recovering mother along with daijaan before he eventually left for boarding school.

he was bullied in the said school for being shy, soft and goody-two shoes.

it gave rise to his anxiety issues and he had a handful attacks of it throughout his 10 years of board schooling.

when he came back from his boarding school he faced some sharp edged criticism for his conduct and how raichands weren't this meek and soft kind of, from yash.

it made him think a lot about himself and how "wrongly" different from his father, creating a sense of self doubt and self loathing in him.

It made him slowly change his whole style and come to be the confident, charming rahul we see in the movie.

he can cook really well.

has trouble sleeping, his life away from raichands very slowly nursed it to let him have some amount of sleep eventually but still it's hard for him to fall asleep.

has some degree high functioning depression.

HE NEEDS CARE AND ATTENTION.

II - ROMANTIC

SFW

makes the first move.

old school flirt.

buys flowers regularly.

can be clingy at times.

will cook for them whenever he gets the chance.

movie date nights.

gifts as love language

sleeps as big spoon.

NSFW

he is sub leaning switch.

he might act all confident and stuff but in this original self he is a obident shy baby boy.

praise kink. to the point he can cry after being praised.

arcs his back while whimpering.

soft moaner.

sensitive ear-area and shoulders.

------

tags : @mayakimayahai @warnermeadowsgirl @vijayasena @voidsteffy @jkdaddy01 @rambheem-is-real @allari-ammayi @mellaga-karagani @ulaganayagi @ahamasmiyodhah @ranisingnewyetagian @myvarya @toomanyfanficsbruh @harinishivaa @chaliyaaa @tumharisakhi @ramcharantitties

[nikethestatue]

When people say that Elain is 'infantalised' by her sisters and that she takes no responsibilities or accountability or that she just latches on to whoever would provide for her...

Really?

Because as far as I remember, Elain was the one who actually went out and decided to build a life for herself with Graysen. She was the one who stepped out socially, integrated herself and Nesta back into their community, and the one who made strides for independence. Not only that, SHE was the one who sought out the most powerful human lord, who had the most soldiers and the most ash trees, and got engaged to his son. She took concrete steps to guarantee that she and Nesta would be protected should and when the war came.

This is not about whataboutalism, but once Feyre ended up in Prythian, what did she do exactly? She stayed in Tamlin's manor and enjoyed her life. She was provided for everything and she was content. Nesta ended up with a whole lot of Tamlin's wealth, and she and their father and Elain all benefitted from it and no one was terribly keen to not take advantage of it. Was Feyre not cared for and coddled and helped by Rhys when she was horribly depressed and when he took her to Night Court? Did everyone not try to help Nesta overcome her depression? Everyone was coddled and cared for, but somehow, it's Elain who is 'infantalised'. Elain didn't have an adoring male to care for her--she didn't have a Rhys, she didn't have a Cassian. She had a broken engagement, and an unwanted mate, and two sisters who were dealing with their own crap and issues, and while they tried their best, Elain was sitting in HoW for 6 weeks after being Made, without anyone helping all that much with anything.

Yes, Elain lives with Feyre right now. So what? Most women did live with their parents or married siblings until they themselves were married. When exactly did women start living independently? The 1960s? Elain does exactly what most women did in her society--she lives with her married sister. Yes, she has room and board, but she also works in the household and the community. If a 500 year old Cassian and presumably Azriel don't have their own places and live in HoW, then why are they not considered 'infantilised' when they depend on Rhys for their wages, their housing, and protection? They work, they get stuff in return. Elain works, she gets stuff in return.

Just because Elain has a generally more positive outlook on life, and she isn't angry like Nesta or self-sacrificing and self-flagellating like Feyre, doesn't mean she is stupid or naïve. She chooses to be calm and friendly and proper. She chose to give Feyre the paints, understanding that a little bit of joy in the face of darkness is sometimes all that is needed. She chose to extend her hand to Nesta again and again and again--she chose to give her gifts for Solstice and her birthday. Stupid, infantile Elain was the one who chose to step up and rammed Truth Teller through the King's throat. Stupid, infantile Elain fought off the naga with her bare feet, and demanded that Azriel save Briar--someone she didn't know and someone who could've caused everyone's deaths. Stupid, infantile Elain was the one who pushed to save the humans and went to beg Lord Nolan for their sanctuary.

If Elain was a silly dog who only cared about comfort and didn't think about anything, she would've already accepted the bond and went off to live with her mate an easy and comfortable life, because Feyre and Rhys would've provided for them.

Truly, the lack of understanding of Elain's character is astonishing. Elain is a survivor. She is the protector. She is the peace keeper. She is not a stupid, infantile Elain, who is 'babied' by others. She is not really babied by anyone. Slowly, but surely, Elain is carving her own path in this new world and new body that she occupies.

[mariemarieohcontrary]

Choices MCs (Filipino Edition lol)

《Next》

Finally drew four of my Choices MCs inspired by @cassiopeiacorvus and her wonderfully done OC compilations (how do you have the patience to draw all of em omg)

I'm thinking of doing the same for my Romance Club MCs too (background would be the purple of the homescreen there)

Interested in commissioning me? Click the source! 💗

Evangeline Marie G. (Guzman) Lakandula - Ah yes, my soft, anxious babie with self-worth issues. She comes from a messy background with a horrible father. She was close to her late (paternal) grandparents and had a very complicated relationship with her late mother. One of her relatives shes v close to is her older cousin, Ethan.

She's a college dropout thanks to her father's bad choices and worked the moment she had a chance to.

After her mother passed, that was it for Evangeline. She kinda needed to go away from her dad and his loud voice and other issues. So she left home and Ethan helped her out before he left for a business trip abroad.

He had her go to a house he owned in Laguna where she could live in provided she just do the cleaning in there. She found simple work that she was qualified for and that was her life for the next few years until a certain bachelor party came into her life.

Diwa Kalangitan M. (Masangga) del Rosario - My chaotic good and very protective MC who definitely rabbleroused in the school she works in.

She was raised in a household that follows some precolonial beliefs and traditions. She has a stepfather who's an albularyo and two half-siblings. One is studying in college, the other is still in high school. She has a close relationship to both her parents.

And she is rather happy with her job as a teacher in a private school. Sure she sometimes goes against curriculum to make sure the kids enjoy her lessons. She's a class advisor also so when she found out their math teacher humiliated one of her students, she confronted said teacher.

Her trip to America is really just a birthday trip until the events of the book started. In the end she ends up in a poly relationship with Nik and Cal. (She does end up pointing out to the boys that she'll have to go back to her work and family at least just to properly resign and find work near them and also to assure her family she's safe.)

Maya Chelidonia C. (Caacbay) dela Rosa - The local tired detective who had to move abroad for their own safety. Love them SM.

Maya is the child of Jaime dela Rosa, a cop in the Philippines who does not follow in corrupt practices and tries to do right by the community. He was killed after coincidentally seeing signs of corruption in the force and wanting to expose it.

After their father's death, Maya also followed in his footsteps. On their end, they wanted to try and do some good in their job but ended up experiencing some discrimination in the work force. Enter them finding the same evidence of corruption that their father found as well. This time they managed to expose the corruption but in the end, one of their few friends in the force warned them that they'll have to flee the country due to some v angry officials.

So they fled with their mother and younger sister.

Their sister became a fashion designer. Maya found work as a private detective and the two teamed up to be able to live a decent life. Their sister travels with their mom on fashion shows. They're fine living nearby their maternal uncle with their dog, Spudge. (He's a scaredy cat and a lil crybaby who doesn't like strangers and by that I mean he starts crying when the strangers notice him. It's not out of trauma, he just likes Maya and their fam more than anyone else and is v shy with others. He's also scared of the dark and loud noises.)

Inocencia Honorata G. (Galang) Valenciano - and finally, my love's embarrassing bby. My Rafael Aveiro romancer. Love her sm.

She and her mom, older brother and little sister ran away from their father when they were a kid. Her parents annulled their marriage after a few years.

Her older brother became the youngest lawyer in the country and had a firm in New York seek him out. This led to him helping Inocencia and her sister (who had skipped grades and managed to enter college the same year as Inocencia).

Inocencia is v non-competitive that she chose De La Salle University while her sister went to their grandfather’s alma mater, University of the Philippines. At college, Inocencia got dubbed as SiaSia because of the repeated -cia in her first name and surname.

The two got accepted into Edenbrook when they were gonna start. Inocencia being 27 and her sister being 25. By then, Inocencia still isn't competitive and didn't sign up for the competition for the diagnostics team but her little sister shoved her to try it out.

[gemini-sensei]

Don't mind me and my chaotic af ideas, but- (warning for abusive households (non physical), controlling behavior, forced separation/break up) (@sensei-venus)

Imagine if Reader, Hawk and Miguel are in a secret relationship because her parents don't like them. So they sneak around, fall in love, and get it on. They're so happy in their relationship even though they can't tell anyone. They'd be much happier of they could be open about their relationship, but it just isn't an option right now. Juliet and her two Romeos will just have to wait it out.

Except Reader is hit with the unexpected and shocking news that her parents have been planning on moving out of the Valley. Her dad got a great job opportunity, so they'll be moving hours away and taking their daughter from the boys that have been causing trouble to them, thinking it will fix whatever issues they have.

However, trouble follows them.

Not in the form of Hawk and Miguel driving hours away to help Reader runaway or anything like that. But in the form of the baby they put in her belly before she moved, which was unplanned and unforeseen.

Reader feels so connected to Hawk and Miguel through the baby, but it also hurts because she can't tell them about it. She's forbidden from talking to them, her actions closely monitored. Despite not liking Hawk or Miguel, her parents tolerate her pregnancy and eventually the baby that's born. However, they don't do much to help. They provide a roof over Reader and her baby's head, they feed them, buy their clothes. That's more than enough in their opinion, leaving Reader to raise and careful her little chubby baby alone. They handle the financial, she handles the actual baby, "since she went and got herself pregnant," as her mom will say.

But then the job her dad got falls through. Shit goes bad and the family is forced to move back to the Valley, with enough luck that he was able to get his old job back. Reader is silently excited, knowing that being so close to Hawk and Miguel will put nothing in their way of seeing each other again. But it's been a year, people change. She certainly has...

So will they still care? Do they still love her? And what will they think of their baby girl? who looks so much like Miguel with thick dark curls and soft tan skin.

Reader manages to get away from her parents by saying her baby girl has a doctor's appointment to find her a new pediatrician, when really she's driving up to the dojo because she knows she'll find her loves there.

So imagine Hawk and Miguel's shock when they see not only Reader walking through the gate, but the baby blankets held to her chest that wriggle and move restlessly.

Hawk can't help but think Reader looks as beautiful as ever, with a little extra meat on her bones than he being on her the last time they saw each other. Full hips, fatter chest, pudgier belly. She's glowing with motherhood and he just wants to run to her and hold her fell her body with his own so he knows that he isn't dreaming and that she actually there.

And Miguel is ready to drop to his knees and burst into tears. Here's one of the loves of his life whom he thought he may never see again, at least not so soon. And she's cradling a curious and wiggly infant to her chest, smiling nervously at them until the baby starts to fuss.

She shushes the little one and bounces her, telling her everything is alright. "It's time you meet your daddies."

Everyone else is justifiably shocked. Maybe a select few people knew they were dating, like Sam and Demetri, but the baby - she's a huge surprise.

Daniel and Johnny welcome the pair into the dojo, pausing the lesson to allow for a much needed Q&A session. However, they corral the other teens away so Hawk, Miguel and Reader can talk.

"It's so good to see you again," Hawk tells her, kissing her cheek before they get into any conversation. He's so overwhelmed with happiness, his heart might burst. "We missed you so much. Who's this?"

"This is Rosalía, but I mostly call her Rosie," Reader giggles.

And Miguel breaks down as he hears the name because he knows Reader named their daughter after one of the most important people in his whole life. Hawk has to hold him and rub his back as he sputters and tries to suck it up. He manages to do so when Rosie starts fussing and whining because he's upset, and him being upset is going to make her upset.

"It's okay, Rosie," he tells her, voice a little pitched. He sniffles and wipes his eyes, smiling at the baby soon thereafter. "I'm okay, see?"

"Can we hold her?" Hawk asks, soft and hopeful, almost as if he's not supposed to ask such a thing.

"Of course," Reader giggles and passes the baby over to Hawk. She helps with the position on his hands and instructs him on how to hold her head. "Look at you. You're a natural at this."

Miguel comes close and gently touches Rosie's mass of curls, so soft and delicate. He kisses her head and smiles at her, then he and Hawk are saying hello and introducing themselves.

"We're your dads," Miguel laughs softly, making sure not to be too loud. He smiles at Hawk, who is wearing the same 'holy shit this is real' smile.

Hawk kisses Rosie's head. "And we love you so much."

Hawk and Miguel and Reader finally feel whole again after being apart for a year, though it felt like much longer. And the guys couldn't be happier with who Reader came back with.

[mercurygray]

Golden Needle, Silver Thread

I'm so excited to finally get this idea on paper - it's an OFC idea I've had bouncing around in my head for a little while for House of the Dragon and I'm so glad she finally found her name.

Fandom: House of the Dragon Warnings: Implied sexual situations, Aegon being Aegon

The men were back early this afternoon.

She was getting used to thinking quickly on her feet, since she'd come here - things moved much faster than they did at home, and here even the smallest thing, like the house's menfolk coming back from a hunt, was a cause to be wary.

The shift she was mending was still in her lap, but her fingers folded, underneath it, around her scissors, small but sharp enough to hurt. It would be better to have a knife, her sister Hylda had said, but that can't always be hidden.

Her sister had also told her to sit watching the doors for occasions like these. But why, she'd asked, confused as anything. Because of the house, her sister had said darkly. And because of the men.

The door opened and she rose from her chair, pleasant as anything and never once surprised, the scissors hidden in her hand.

"Prince Aegon,” she said brightly. “You're home early."

After six months, she knew her sister had been right to say it. This house. And this man.

A great honor, the letter to her parents had said. Position in the royal household as mistress of the robes - a lady in waiting to the Princess Helaena. I have had good reports of your daughter Iselde's conduct, and her care and attention to detail in all matters of deportment and grace...

"You'll be serving the royal family, just like your brothers," her grandmother had said happily from her seat by the fire. The Queen's letter was still out on the table, written in a clear hand and carrying her personal seal, the flame within a seven-pointed star, distinct in deep green wax.  "What an honor for the Cargylls - two names in the White Book and a lady in waiting!"

"Honor indeed," Hylda had said darkly, and wouldn't say more until Gran had gone to bed.  "Look, Sis, Gran hasn't been to court since the days of Good Queen Alysanne. It's changed a bit there since then."

Iselde knew her lessons well enough, the great family trees that her mother had made sure they all knew by heart. Jaeherys married Alysanne, and had issue, 13 children, which was unlucky, since all of them died, and his grandson Viserys married once for love and once for duty, and had issue, two daughters and three sons...

And oh, what sons.

Was it any wonder none of the other ladies liked to be here? It was easier to find them in Queen Alicent’s rooms, huddled around their aunts and mothers, sharing the day’s gossip. The only threat there was Prince Aemond and his prattle of the practice yard. His brother was a different beast entirely, and one to be avoided if you liked your virtue. 

The Prince looked to be in low spirits today - his boots were splattered with mud and his cloak would need a good brushing, but there was no evidence of blood anywhere on his person - usually a sign that he hadn't managed to make a kill while they were out. That would leave anyone in a foul mood, but Aegon more than most.  "The sport was poor and my horse was tired," he reported. “How long were we out, Cargyll?”

Behind him, her brother Arryk looked even more uncomfortable in his muddy white cloak. Visenya had meant for the Kingsguard to be royal bodyguards, but she’d never planned her uniforms for some of the things the Tagaryens got up to. “A good four hours, your Grace.”

“Four hours,” the Prince said, throwing his gloves down on the table. “And not a fucking thing to show for it except a sore backside. Now, where is my lady wife?" he asked, clearly not thrilled by the prospect of finding her. "The maesters have told me the moon is good for making babies this week and my balls need to breathe."

Iselde took a step away from her chair and steeled her shoulders. “His Grace shall have to come back later," she said, planting herself in front of the door, mindful still of the scissors in her hand. "The Princess is indisposed at the moment."

No one had told her that standing up to the Prince would be part of her regular responsibilities. She thought, perhaps, now that no one had told her that because no one had dreamed it could be done.  But Aegon still seemed …amused by it.  He stared at her a moment and then laughed. "What a perfect tyrant your sister is, Cargyll. See how she stands and turns me away! Perhaps I'll have her instead,” he said, stepping forward a pace or two and moving her closer towards the door. “Since it seems Helaena's out. My grandsires took second wives to serve their pleasures,” he added, his short blonde hair just brushing her face, and she could smell clove on his breath - the spiced wine he liked in the morning to chase away the night before. “What's to stop me? I've got a needle here in need of a case and a strong hand to get it there." He leered closer, her back against the smooth wood of the door so she could feel all of him, and over his shoulder she could see her brother glowering, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"I doubt your mother would approve," Iselde cut in quickly, before Arryk had a chance to say anything out of turn. (Brothers were like that, weren't they? And one of these days they'd say something and Aegon would make them regret it.) "A Crownlands girl is hardly good enough for the heir to the throne." She tried to make it sound like logic. Alicent liked her well enough as a lady in waiting, but a daughter - or a second wife? Hardly likely. Iselde could still remember her parents discussing the news of Aegon and Helaena's wedding, and how the Queen had held her tongue and would not touch her wine. Everyone was still reeling a bit from the Princess Rhaenyra's abrupt marriage to her uncle, two years before, and a second Targaryen marriage was...rather a lot.

"Bugger my mother," the Prince said dismissively. "A Crownlands girl's good for what I need now."

"Perhaps at the Bell they'll have sweeter sport, my prince," Arryk interrupted. "You know my sister's unbedded and unlikely to serve you well."

"And your lady mother did say she would look in," Iselde added, on a whim.

It was a game they played, a kind of hellish pass the parcel, trying to distract him away from the goal. But that did it - Aegon wasn't threatened by many things, but his mother finding him trysting wasn't high on his list of desires - an unhappy consequence of too many such instances as a younger man. The chances of Alicent visiting in the middle of the afternoon were slim - she was far too busy with the Small Council - but Aegon didn't know that, and it worked. He snarled and pulled away, departing the room in a whirl of cloak and sword, Arryk in close and grateful pursuit to one of his regular Flea Bottom stews.

Iselde leaned back against the door and breathed again, feeling the metal of the scissors in her hands, warm now that she’d been holding them so close for so long. He was worse when Erryk or Arryk attended him - a cheap amusement to see them squirm while he said the most vile things. On days when Ser Criston or Ser Loras were with him he paid her no mind at all. He hates his marriage - hates that he's had to wed his sister when no one else in the realm would need to. That's all it is.

She heard the lock turning behind her, and quickly stepped away from the bedroom door, hastening back to her chair and her sewing before the Princess peeked out, freshly arisen from an afternoon nap.

"You said I was indisposed again."

It was always a statement - never a question. Iselde nodded. The truth was always best, with Helaena. Not because she saw it, the way the others always said she did. The Princess only liked straightforward people. It was one of the first things Iselde had learned, when she'd first come to King's Landing. Aegon likes wine, Aemond likes books, and Helaena likes things that crawl, and the truth. "I thought you would not like to see him, your grace. He was... in an amorous mood."

"You're good at lying," Helaena said simply. "Like Mother is." She looked at Iselde's sewing, and the front of her gown. "Did he touch you?"

She knew there wasn't any harm meant by the question, but it still hurt her to answer.  "Only a little." 

"It bothers you, when he does that. Because you think it bothers me."

I know it doesn't bother you, Iselde thought to herself, her heart tight in her chest. But it feels disloyal, somehow - that he should be so open in scorning you. I know that it would bother other women, to have their husband look at someone else. But I know you are not like other women are, and your marriage is…different, too.

"He does it to everyone," Helaena continued, unperturbed. "Mother thinks I don't notice but I do. But you're the only one who distracts him with it. To be kind to me." 

Iselde had to still her needle, and swallowed. “I hope I am kind, your Grace,” she said, and meant it. There’s so little kindness in the world for women like you.  But there was something else. “He’ll be back this evening, I think. The maesters said -”

Helaena nodded - she’d already heard. How long had she been lying there, behind her door, listening? She hears more than people think she does. “They are right, in their accounts?”

Iselde nodded. Mistress of the robes meant mistress of the sheets, and the bleeding cloths, and every single speck of clothing sent to the laundrywomen. That was where the maesters got their information, but she knew Halaena’s moon cycles as well as her own. The twins were nearly a year old, now, but an heir and a spare wouldn’t do for the House of the Dragon. Helaena must have another child.  “I’m just fixing the shift you like,” she said, holding it up for the Princess to see. “The one that doesn’t scratch. And I’ll have the kitchen send up a tea, and put a hot stone in the fire, for after.”

“He’ll want wine.”

“He can get that in his own apartments,” Iselde said, her voice sharper than she meant it to sound, jabbing the needle into her work.

 Helaena laughed - a short, happy sound. “Who needs a dragon to guard you when you have a goose?”

Most women wouldn’t like being called a goose, Iselde thought, watching the Princess dip into her collecting boxes to pull out her centipede and let it play through her hands. But that’s the Cargyll crest, and I suppose I do guard you, your Grace. And maybe it’s not as noble as a dragon - but everyone knows what it’s good for, at least.

--

Thanks for reading! If this sounds like something you'd like more of, I love comments, tag commentary, or just old fashioned asks!

[iravaid]

Oc questions game: 3, 11, 14 and 17 for mistah lee kinsey the man himself...

LEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!‼️‼️💥💥

3) What song describes your OC?

Mitski's 'Coyote, My Little Brother', and Sierra Ferrel's 'Fox Hunt' capture different aspects of mister kinsey imo, the former being the quiet, grieving side (with brother issues), and the latter his more aggressive mindset that he slips into when on a job (or tracking down a witch...)

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

Lee was made for an OGoA campaign, and birthed from the rule of cool concept of 'what if that butcher spoke to dead people' and now he's our balding, 1920s princess 🥰

I can't really pin down a direct inspiration for him in my head, the character himself was technically developed backwards. We start at the end of a life of violence, and see how he got to that position, and now it's time to figure out how Lee himself would be processing everything.

So, to contradict myself, eventually the inspiration that fleshed his character out more became the question 'What does atonement look like and how can it differ from redemption? What can a man with a past like Lee's do to earn a peaceful life? And what does a story look like, where he works towards it while simultaneously believing he doesn't deserve it?'

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

He'd cave his pa's head in with his own two fists, if the old fucker were still alive that is. Other than that, Lee is trying not to fall back into aggressive ways (success varies), and currently i dont see him being particularly vicious to anyone at Hollowheart, his hometown. Except the sheriff, of course 😤

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

Lee hopes to any god bored enough to look in on his life that he Does Not have any kids. I think that, in the event a child appears that is his to care for, Lee would be too anxiously overwhelmed to meet this child's emotional and mental needs. He'd do what he can to put food on the table and a roof over their head, but I can see Lee not knowing how to talk to this kid, and therefore just being silent.

He's worried about passing on his own childhood, and in that vein, I think that, by virtue of growing up in a violent household with a horrible father and a cruel mother, Lee would be too repulsed at the thought of intimacy (especially as a man who has only known how to use his body for violence) for said babymaking to. Well. Make the baby for him to neglect in the first place. Oh Lee.

This is him in his current state, I am fond of the idea of him finding some form of closeness with people, and he's done right by Hatty so far. Maybe because she's gone through a loophole in his psyche and she qualifies as a 'coworker' 🤔

[strkamand]

I didn't vote for my needs

I didn’t vote for my needs alone

Not that I don’t have needs.

--> I need access to safe, medically-approved abortion: My sweet little boy wants a baby sister and under too many of the up-for-votes abortion statutes, my uterus would become a property of the state, ever to be forced to carry a baby to term, even when it isn’t viable and would endanger both my life and my future capacity to bear children, not to mention my mental capacity...

--> I need to see my nephews live long and happy lives: My nephews are biracial, beautiful, strong, wonderful boys. I value their lives. No white supremacist is going to consider that they're half white. Too many police officers have proven that they will value being 'in control' over my nephews' lives.

--> I need affordable healthcare: My husband and I are ok on his healthcare right now. But we're one illness, one job loss, and like many others, a few months worth of savings from not being able to provide payment for our healthcare costs.

--> I need a job that doesn't discriminate against my gender: I have debt from college and from the medical costs of our fertility issues. I need to be able to pay that back. I can't do that if I have an employer who feels like he can, at any time, take advantage of my female-ness by paying me less or endangering my workplace with harassment.

But I didn't vote for my needs alone.

I voted for the needs of those who don't have privilege.

I am a white woman.

I live in a two-income household and I went to college.

I am in a heterosexual relationship.

Thanks to college, I have well-developed skills that make it so I can find employment in many fields.

I have no physical disability.

I slept in a bed in a warm room last night where I can leave my things until the next night and so on.

My neighbors know me and my family.

I inherited my citizenship in this country from those who stole it from its' indigenous citizens.

My child's father participates in that child's care/needs (both financially and emotionally).

I have access to reliable relatives who could care for us if a natural disaster hit.

I. am. privileged.

So I didn't vote for my needs alone.

I voted for the people of color, who suffer terror and racism on a level I will never understand.

I voted for those who have poverty-level income because they didn't get a chance to go to college or to have safe, trauma-free learning environments.

I voted for those who are not heterosexual.

I voted for those who never got to develop skills because they couldn't get the funding or support or time off or whatEVER resources they needed to go to college.

I voted for those who have limited access to employment because of their lack of skills.

I voted for those who have physical disabilities.

I voted for those who do not have a warm house or a bed or a room of their own and have to track their things from night to night.

I voted for those who worry about their safety because they cannot choose their neighborhood.

I voted for children in cages, traumatized to the point they'll never recover.

I voted for parents who sought asylum here and instead, were separated from their children.

I voted for the First Nations Citizens, who have lost everything to so-called 'Christian' settlers and other colonizers.

I voted for single parents who don't have another parent in the home to provide support to the children living there.

I voted for children who have to care for themselves because their single parent is working.

I voted for children who don't have financial or emotional resources, and suffer the consequences, both seen and unseen.

I voted for those who have no extended family or tribe. Who have had to face every natural disaster of this year by getting up earlier or going to bed later to do things like repair homes and cars, evacuate, and wait outside care clinics for those who cannot afford care.

I didn't vote for my needs alone.

I voted for the needs of those who don't have privilege.

I voted for those who feel alone, abandoned by elected officials who aren't listening to the needs of their constituents, but instead, to the needs of their lone agendas.

I voted for indivisible justice for all so that privilege alone will never again get a vote.

I voted for healing and support and unity.

Because that's what we all need.

[whentherewerebicycles]

just got hit with an unexpected $600 bill for what my insurance says is a “noncovered service” even though they’ve covered it in the past sooo gonna have to call about that later and already have the sinking despair feeling of: it’s probably not going to get waived. between this and a week of unfortunate vet bills I think the dream of one last trip before the baby is not going to happen and I feel pretty bummed about that… also I fear I will be broke for the rest of my life because I spent almost the entirety of my 20s making $15k a year in grad school and it turns out that does not set you up for long-term financial stability in your 30s. but it was sunny out and we went for a nice long calming walk, including a foray into the cool dark woods where little mushrooms are growing up out of the damp earth. I’m in a pretty bad funk right now but money isn’t real and it’s not really fair to compare myself to my brothers’ financial situations when they make way more money than me, have been working well-paying jobs for much longer than me, and are part of two-income households. ugh I just have some black sheep feelings around being the oldest in the family and yet perpetually the one whose financial situation is the most precarious. but like I made my professional choices! and it’s fine it’s fine I like my life I just wish I felt less squeezed all the time. I will pursue various avenues to try to get this medical bill partially covered. I will start this second job in January and if they don’t give me enough hours I will pick up another one. also I will cry a bunch right now because I can tell I just need to get it out of my system.

oh and maybe I will practice doing this cognitive behavioral therapy triangle thing my therapist gave me as homework.

activating event: got walloped with another huge medical bill which has been a huge stressor for me all year (bc so many fucking medical bills)

belief (negative self-talk): I am either broke or on the verge of being broke all the time, I have no savings cushion at all, and every small setback makes me feel like I’m one crisis away from real financial catastrophe. this means I am a fuck-up and a failed adult who probably has no business having a baby. this situation is my own fault and reflects an inner unworthiness. also my parents and family are probably silently judging me for being an idiot with my money.

consequence (how I feel as a result): I feel a lot of shame and it makes me feel really bad

now I am supposed to go back to the belief and try to disentangle it/give myself an alternative narrative.

alternate belief: I live in a society with a super fucked up healthcare system that extorts us all to the maximum extent; I also live in a culture where insurance companies are allowed to be like ‘haha very funny go fuck yourself’ to lgbtq people and people with fertility issues who want to have kids. I have made values-aligned choices about what I want my life to look like (working in public ed and having a family), and it is a brave and honorable thing to create a life you believe in when there is lots of pressure to do something different instead (keep the horrible government contractor job that paid an obscene amount of money, not have a baby). that might be being a failed adult by some people’s standards, but if I think about what being a grown-up means to me I think it should include being able to exercise autonomy over my body/choices and making decisions that bring my lived experience into closer alignment with my core values and beliefs. also money is real but it also isn’t real and I can do the “stress now and suffer twice” thing or I can take a deep breath and move through it and hope things look different in six months. also people who are financially stable don’t “deserve” to have families more than people who don’t have savings or are dealing with a lot of debt! that’s not how it works!

[i-love-love]

And on the reverse, making it a valid and normal option for girls to never want kids means that if they end up deciding they DO want kids, they’re much more likely to be sure about that decision!

I grew up in the type of household where my brothers’ futures were talked about in terms of “if he has kids” and my sisters’ in terms of “when she has kids”. My mom started childbearing at 21 and didn’t stop until 33, at which point her previous two pregnancies had been near-deadly and her obstetrician banned her from further reproduction. When I was a teenager I grew horrified by every new thing I found out about the process of pregnancy, birth, and babyraising. This was furthered by watching my older sister have a few kids: there were a lot of loud noises and bodily fluids involved between pregnancy and age 5, and I was very solidly Not Interested. I went to a Baptist high school— I wasn’t a Christian, and didn’t believe in capital-G God (a classmate literally burst into tears and had to leave the room to collect herself when I told her this), so I was already something of an oddity to the community, but my revulsion towards one day becoming a Godly Fruit-Bearing Bride made it worse. Every single person who heard about my desires for childlessness felt the need to inform me that my mind would spontaneously change one day and I’d be absolutely desperate to tear my vagina open for an 8 pound, screaming, poop-covered worm. Contrary to their desired effect, this did nothing to infect me with a craving for babies.

Then, my freshman year of college, the third time I’d ever had sex in my life, my hyperfertile boyfriend accidentally managed to knock me up through not one, not two, but THREE simultaneous methods of contraception. He and I were not the type of kids teen pregnancy was “supposed to” happen to— it shouldn’t happen to any kids, but everyone who’d ever met us would’ve been floored at the news. We came from upstanding families! I had secretly obtained birth control pills from the health center! We were honors students! The kind of infinitesimal odds involved in this happening genuinely made me reconsider my stance on a higher power. At ages 17 and 18, we knew that our lives were Basically Over, but there was no way for me to get an abortion since it was a red state and I was still a minor. We didn’t feel right about giving the baby away if I’d gone to the trouble of carrying and birthing it, and so decided we’d keep it, face the disappointment of our parents, and ultimately make the best of things.

I got attached.

And I miscarried.

Gotta say, it’s a weird thing to happen to someone when she’s 17 years old. There was pretty much no good outcome. Despite my politics, I’d have felt guilty over an abortion; empty inside with an adoption; my life completely derailed with a baby in my arms; traumatized by the eventual end result. I’ve heard my fair share of “well, that was for the best, right?” which is a horrible thing to say to someone whose baby died. (She has a name; she’d be 4 this fall; I celebrate her would-be birthday every year and get shitface drunk on the anniversary of the loss— these things are not relevant to the story, but it’s important to me that these facts exist out in the world, that I’m not the only one who knows of her.) The quantity of grief I was feeling made me start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, some small part of me might actually want to have a child one day, when I was older, when I could be ready.

So I researched incessantly. I took child development classes. I took an internship volunteering with babies at a low income daycare to get hands-on, slobbery exposure. I became so fascinated by pregnancy and childbirth that I started taking coursework to become a midwife (a plan which got derailed by chemistry class and health issues kicking my ass, but which I intend to return to later in life!). I’ve been reading a huge spread of parenting books in my spare time for years. I volunteer with the Girl Scouts to practice being around children.

I happen to be someone who did change her mind about having kids— sometimes it does happen. In my case, if it hadn’t been for the exceptional circumstance, I probably never would’ve changed my mind and would’ve gotten my tubes tied as soon as I possibly could. But now I know, for absolute certain, that I want to go down this path. If I’d gone along with the expectations placed on me as a little girl unquestioned, I’d have been going into parenting almost blind— there’s a great chance I would’ve regretted it, and not only would I have suffered greatly from that, but so would the kids!

It is ONLY because I was so certain for so long that I didn’t want kids that I felt the need to really interrogate all parts of the process to determine whether it’s something that’ll be right for me. I can make an informed choice about the whole thing now, which isn’t possible if you don’t even know you can view kids as an optional situation.

stop telling your teenage daughters who say they don't want kids that they'll change their mind

[wishsensitive]

A Barnwallop Recap

A full "year" has passed in Barnwallop and a lot of changes have gone quickly this very first set up year. The Everly Family

Left to Right: Okana Everly, Ryu Everly, Cherise Everly, Hazel, Scout. The Everlys run a Cat Cafe from their home in Barnwallop. Cherise Everly founded the cat cafe to rescue stray cats and to spread awareness of animal welfare issues. Oksana Everly isn't as much of a fan of cats but she is a fan of Cherise so she helps take care of the financial aspects. They adopted Ryu as a child and are training him up to take on the family business. Ryu adores his moms and the cats and while he wouldn't call himself an animal lover otherwise, he's determined to prove to his mothers that he can take it on. He's an aspiring athlete at heart so balancing the cafe and his ideal sports career may be hard. He's also known as quite the hearthrob in town, though right now is going steady with Jordan Appleaate. The Applegate Family (1st)

Left to right: Joey Applegate, Julie Applegate, Jordan Applegate, Jessie Applegate. Joey and Julie make an ideal parenting team for their four daughters who are growing up so fast. Joey is a stay at home dad who does all of the cooking, cleaning, knitting sweaters for his girls, helping with homework, you name it! Julie is a scientist though with juggling home life, she's been struggling with advancing her career. Now left with two daughters out of the house and two left at home, Joey and Julie can shift their goals towards their own needs and focus on spoiling any future grandchildren rotten. Meanwhile, Jessie focuses on making her hobby, writing romance novels, into a blossoming career and Jordan is nearly reaching adulthood and shows an interest in sports along with her boyfriend Ryu Everly. The Vanderbilt Family

Yvonne Vanderbilt & baby Camille Vanderbilt Yvonne Vanderbilt is new in town. Her first husband passed away of mysterious circumstances not shortly before she met Davis Vineyard and had a whirlwind romance with him. Unfortunately for her, Davis passed away shortly after their betrothal and their very first woohoo, leaving her winding up in the arms with Diego Patel. Now she's alone with a baby - is it Diego's or Davis's? And why do all of the men she love seem to keep dying?

The Patel Family

Left to right: Diego Patel (nee Vineyard), Pavarti Patel, Avery Patel Diego is a true romance sim who has gotten caught more than enough times but he really still wants to make it work with his 2nd wife, Pavarti, for sure. Pavarti's a free spirit looking for an adventure but is that the kind she wants to put up with? The Lovejoy Family

Left to right: Jackie Lovejoy (nee Applegate), Mary Lovejoy (nee Mary Windsor), Lonnie Lovejoy Jackie grew up in the loving and supportive Applegate household and is now embarking on the adventure of having a home and family of her own. She and Lonnie adopted little Mary after the demise of the remaining Windsor family and she has one on the way! She also helped fulfill her father's dream of buying the Fore Sisters Golf course as the owner. The Vineyard Family

Nicolette Vineyard Poor Nicolette had a rough go of her life watching her parents pass away, losing her only daughter, and watching her ex-husband cheat on her. Her ambition in life was to turn their family passion for wine from a hobby into a store and she's feeling further away from her goal than ever. The Applegate Family (2nd)

Jasmine Applegate

Jasmine Applegate was always the spitfire child in her family and now she's out on her own with lots of ambitions.

[thewritersplace]

WTW Relationships Week | Family

Rowan

🌹🌹🌹

•Marius Rowan:

A distinguished, well-dressed, and handsome aristocrat in his mid-forties who is the son of a duke, and a count in his own right. He is the dutiful and loving husband of Colette Rowan (née Desrosiers), and the attentive and loving father to four children — Rose, Judas, Louis, and Jacqueline.

Rather forward-thinking for his time, Marius taught his two eldest children together, and thus they both learned in tandem things such as sword-fighting, fencing, hunting, horsemanship, politics, negotiations, networking, and other such subjects/disciplines that he believed were essential to navigating society with success. Marius also ensured that Rose received the same formal and intensive academic education as her twin brother, which resulted in her being educated in various languages, and every academic/scholarly subject imaginable — even the less useful ones.

Marius is incredibly proud of his daughter, and she is undoubtedly his favorite child (though only Judas is bold enough to say so out loud). As a result of his pride — and perhaps as an extension of it as well — Marius is incredibly protective of Rose, and thus will not marry her to any man he deems unworthy. As such, he is initially skeptical, and somewhat suspicious, of Rose's choice for a husband, as the suitor is something of a mystery in terms of his past. After some persuasion (and much convincing) from Judas, however, Marius eventually comes around and accepts his daughter's decision to marry this man.

While admittedly incredibly partial to his eldest, Marius loves his three other children just as much, and strives to serve them as best he can as a father. Though he and his eldest son are very different people, Marius holds great pride and affection for the young man, and hopes to one day make Judas the heir to his estate. If Judas does not want this, however, Marius will pass the duty to his younger son, Louis.

With regards to his two younger children — the aforementioned Louis, and the 'baby' of the family, Jacqueline — Marius strives to ensure that they each receive the same extensive and well-rounded education as his two older children. However, as Louis and Jacqueline are a bit more traditional than their elder siblings, Marius understands he may need to tailor and adjust his approach to said education. Louis and Jacqueline are also both still fairly young (circa fifteen and eight) and a bit further apart in age from each other than their older siblings were when Marius was teaching them, so he is able to devote more attention to them as individuals and thus better attend to any individual needs and/or issues that may arise during the course of their education. Beyond tending to their education, Marius also spends a great deal of time engaging in leisure activities with them, and is arguably a more hands-on father with them than he was with their siblings.

🌹🌹🌹

•Colette Rowan (née Desrosiers):

A poised, reserved, elegantly-dressed, and beautiful woman in her early/mid-forties who is the daughter of a marquess, and a countess in her own right. She is the dutiful and loving wife of Marius Rowan, and a stern, firm, yet caring and compassionate mother to four children — Rose, Judas, Louis, and Jacqueline. As the more traditional of the two parents, Colette taught her daughter everything she believed a noblewoman ought to know — scripture, calligraphy, dance, sewing, how to run a household, and how to interact with other noble ladies. She hoped that Rose would outgrow the desire to utilize the various skills taught to her by her father that were really meant more for the men of society, but Rose never did. Eventually, Colette learned to accept that her eldest would simply be ahead of the times, and that her younger daughter was much more likely to be the traditional one.

Colette was openly wary and skeptical of the man Rose chose for a husband, and required much more convincing than her husband to accept the suitor (Judas would claim that he spent multiple weeks making his case to her on Rose's behalf, though the latter certainly hadn't asked him to). However, she will also be the first to admit that this suitor (and later, husband) makes Rose the happiest she has ever seen, and that's ultimately all she could ask for as a mother.

As a staunch French Catholic, Colette strived to make sure her children were brought up with and appreciated the faith, though she admits she clearly failed with her two eldest children, as they eventually opt to become vampires. Nevertheless, as her love as a mother is stronger than her love for her faith, she continues to welcome the two into her home after their transformations, and states that they will always be her children no matter what.

When it comes to the two younger children, Colette is a bit more relaxed, and that is likely to do with the fact that she has now had several years' worth of practice with her two older children, and also that said younger children are very different from their elder siblings.

At her core, Colette deeply loves her children, and only wants the best for them, though everyone in the family will admit she has an odd way of showing it — especially when it comes to Rose. However, the latter does consider her mother to also be her friend and confidante, and understands that Colette is merely doing the best she can as a noblewoman raising children in a rather constrictive and limiting era.

🌹🌹🌹

•Judas Rowan:

A handsome, charming, charismatic, dashing, and outgoing young man of twenty who is a count like his father. He is the eldest son, the (younger) twin brother of Rose, and the older brother of Louis and Jacqueline. A devoted and dedicated son to his parents, a best friend to his twin sister, and a dutiful, kind, and playful older brother to his younger siblings, Judas is in some ways the glue that holds the family together. He can mend fences with every person in the family, convince nearly anyone to hear the other out, and bring levity and laughter to even the most tense or somber of moments.

Judas is his twin sister's biggest supporter and advocate. If his father were not already of the mind to educate his daughters the same way he would educate his sons, Judas would've insisted that he do so at least for Rose. He also went out of his way to persuade their parents to accept Rose's suitor as her future husband, as the man made her happier than he had ever seen, and her happiness was of the utmost importance to him.

Much like his twin, Judas is somewhat ahead of the times they live in, though for him it is easier because he is a man and thus is judged much less severely (not that he actually cares what people think of him). While he is, of course, acutely aware of his privilege, he also is not even slightly above using it to his advantage, and will participate in debauchery at any given moment. His behavior amuses and exasperates his twin sister, and definitely disappoints his parents at times, but they also know that's partly why he does it with such frequency. Judas will, however, always do his best to make sure that his acts of debauchery do not go so far as to ruin his family's image or his own reputation, as he does want to ensure that his family name remains respected and members of said family to remain in society's good graces.

As the only other vampire in the family, Judas eventually comes to be the sole remaining blood relative that Rose has left, and her only link to the past. As such, he does his best to remain geographically close to her when possible, though he does live his own immortal life as he pleases, since he knows she would much prefer he not hover.

🌹🌹🌹

•Louis Rowan:

A quiet, reserved, polite boy of fifteen, who is set to inherit both the title of count and possibly land from his father when he comes of age. He is a respectful son and loyal brother who holds the importance of family very close to his heart, and strives to serve them well.

Being five years younger than his older siblings, Louis formed a different relationship with each, but he loves them equally. He will admit to being a bit closer to his brother, but this is partly due to their shared gender/sex, and also to Judas having taken an interest in his brother early on in Louis' life.

When it comes to his younger sister, Louis isn't especially close to her, but they get along well and he looks out for her as any good older brother would. As for his parents, Louis is content in his relationship with them, and enjoys the time he spends with each.

Regarding his older sister's suitor (who becomes his eventual brother-in-law), Louis is largely neutral. He likes the stories that the man shares, and enjoys being able to ask him questions about things such as history and the world at large, as the suitor is very knowledgable and worldly.

🌹🌹🌹

•Jacqueline Rowan:

A sweet, polite, enthusiastic young girl of eight, she is set to inherit the title of countess when she comes of age. She is a dutiful daughter and loyal sister who thinks the world of her family.

Being seven years younger than her immediate older brother, and twelve years younger than her eldest siblings, Jacqueline has a different relationship with each. As Louis and her don't have very much in common, they usually do activities together, separately, or together but separate. She does tend to ask him for help with something if she needs it, and he's happy to do so, but most of the time she likes to just sit quietly with him while they each do their own thing. This contrasts yet complements how she is with Judas, who is very fond of her but doesn't quite know how to connect due to their sex/gender differences and large age gap. Still, he does his best to be the brother to her that he thinks he should be, and often buys her gifts or helps her with a creative project, as well as occasionally puts her to bed when she's fallen asleep in the living room when the family is occupying it during leisure time.

Jacqueline's relationship with Rose is perhaps her most favored one, as she adores her oldest sister and often claims she wants to be just like her when she grows up. Rose, in turn, cares deeply for her younger sister, and looks out for her as best she can. They can often be found playing dolls or 'house' together, or doing more quiet activities such as studying or reading. Rose aims to teach Jacqueline the skills that she was bestowed by their father, although she realizes Jacqueline may be too young to quite grasp their importance yet.

Jacqueline adores both her parents, and doesn't favor one over the other, though she goes to each one for specific questions, since she knows that some things will be more appropriate for her father vs her mother.

Much like her eldest brother, and perhaps more so, Jacqueline adores her sister's suitor and eventual husband, and he in turn is quite affectionate with her. He is perhaps her favorite non-blood relative, and she is always excited when he comes to visit — both before her sister's marriage and after.

[beloveddawn-blog]

It's a bit more complicated than that. The pro-life stance puts the survival of the baby until the moment of birth as the most important rank in anyone's life, without consideration of circumstances, health, or even the survivability of the child. It ignores:

a)children born with known birth defects whose entire life will be measured in hours without the umbilical cord

b) the ability of the mother to survive the birth (some will not)

c) the ability of the mother to survive the pregnancy

d) the pregnancy itself causing/uncovering medical issues in the mother (pre and post partum psychosis KILLS, murder suicides are not as uncommon as we'd like to pretend)

e) abuse in the household. Laws can be used to coerce people to remain in constant contact with people who have previously tried to murder them

f) a change in circumstances that mean the household can no longer support the pregnancy (ex a couple with a wanted child but he gets killed in a car accident and her pregnancy forces her onto bedrest. The child could be adopted, sure, but at the end of the pregnancy her life is going to be ruined with no job, no savings, no where to live, medical bills, and ongoing medical issues)

The point they are making is that a pro-life stance sounds like it should be invested in making sure every person has the support and chances they need to flourish, but instead it just means babies being born trumps any other considerations. Pro-choice does not mean everyone who believes in it is going out to get one every month and twice over the holidays, it means allowing everyone the right to examine their own circumstances and make a choice about what is the best option in their situation. It also means no one else has a right to pass judgement on their choices and circumstances.

Pro-life also tends to further muddy the waters by resisting better sex ed (proven to lower abortion rates), better access to contraceptives (proven to lower abortion rates), generally goes hand-in-hand with political parties that want to limit access to healthcare (hysterectomies, etc) and actively resists the social programs that would allow parents to safely and effectively raise a child.

Two points from my life: my grandmother had a complete hysterectomy at 25 because her periods were so bad she was actively bleeding for over three out of every four weeks. She'd have been dead within a year without it, and needed her husband's permission to do it.

My mom had a twisted bowel when pregnant with my brother, and even though she was less than halfway through the pregnancy and my brother would not have been viable outside of the womb, my Dad was asked (my DAD. Not my Mom, MY DAD) if they should prioritize his wife or his child. He picked my Mom most emphatically and my brother is wonderfully stubborn and one of my favourite people, but they were perfectly willing to cost my sister and I our mother on the chance they might be able to keep a second trimester fetus alive long enough to be viable.

The pro-life stance would have killed all three of them.

Reblog if you are a woman and pro-life

To show that we aren’t a bunch of old white men

[lawyerserving456]

What Is The That Means Of A Typical Law Spouse?

Another key difference between precise marriage and common law marriage is the means in which property is split upon separation. In Ontario, married couples are subject to equalization payments after they divorce; this implies each partners will share equally in any assets acquired through the course of their marriage. However common law couples don't have this similar automated safety and must establish any curiosity in property.

If this is not the case, the household of the deceased individual inherits their property. The de facto spouse can only acquire the deceased person’s life insurance if they were beforehand designated as a beneficiary of the coverage, both within the coverage itself or in a will. Contrary to popular belief, de facto (common law) spouses do not have the identical protections as married individuals.

A separation agreement ought to address necessary points corresponding to youngster custody, access to your kids, spousal assist, baby help, and common law property rights issues. A “conjugal relationship” implies that the couple shares a house, finances, and an emotional and sexual relationship. Long-term roommates are generally not thought-about to be common law spouses within the eyes of Ontario law. The reason that three years is used as a cut-off in the legal definition above, is that spousal support obligations are typically triggered underneath Ontario law at the three 12 months mark. If two individuals have lived together in a marriage-like relationship for two or extra years, they have entered into a common law relationship. In the occasion of a separation, an single spouse has all the similar rights and obligations as if they had been legally married.

Your home, furniture, home equipment, family automotive, and any sums accrued in a pension plan in the course of the marriage are all a half of your family patrimony, which also includes your shared money owed. Generally, when you divorce, the net worth of your family patrimony is split equally between you and your spouse. From spousal assist to the inheritance of property, common-law and married spouses have very completely different rights and obligations. We can provide timely advice in your divorce, youngster custody or inheritance case. It is notable that the above list of relationships now topic to property division under the new Family Property Act isn't limited to

Whether married or in a common-law relationship, it's simply good business sense for couples who are business companions to plan for any eventuality and account for all dangers that will negatively impact difference between marriage and common law their enterprise enterprise. The same can happen if a celebration can show that they did not perceive the character or consequence of the

The larger prevalence of common-law couples with kids in Quebec, in contrast with other provinces and territories, could reflect partly the unique legal and cultural setting of this province. In addition to inhabitants getting older, Canada's total fertility price has been trending downward since 2008, reaching a report low of 1.forty children per lady in 2020. Additionally, the common age of childbearing has steadily increased, from 26.7 years in 1976 to 31.three what is the difference between common law and marriage in canada years in 2020. As a results of these shifts to decrease and later fertility, the proportion of younger adults in couples which have youngsters at home decreased over time, notably within the final 20 years. For instance, in 2001, over half (51%) of spouses or companions aged 25 to 29 had a baby at home. This was especially the case for individuals in married unions who had an older median age (55.2 years) than people in common-law unions (41.2 years).

When common-law parents cease dwelling together, they don't have to get a divorce, because there is no marriage to finish. But they do need to resolve what's going to happen to their children and the common law vs marriage way they'll divide their property. Even in Quebec, a province that doesn’t recognize common-law, youngsters are thought of extenuating circumstances. Common-law usually refers to two folks in a romantic relationship that stay collectively however usually are not married.

[xcookedxchroniclesx]

Okay, so, I have another key issue that I'd like to discuss about things that I have noticed that are fucky. Such as the price of baby formula. It is a necessity because babies need formula. It is in high demand because there are babies born every fucking day. Lots of babies. And there doesn't seem to ever be a shortage of product because the babies might die.

Based upon the rules of economics, that means that baby formula should be like $15-$20 a jug. Because when you need it YOU FUCKING NEED IT and the demand is quite high due to daily births literally EVERYWHERE. And a shortage of it would put babies at risk so there's no fucking reason one fucking jug of it costs $60-$70 for fucks sake! That's not how economics works in a capitalist market in a balanced economy that's not going to crash.

You can't just up and fucking decide that your product costs so much more than it used to just because you want more profits.

Also to take into consideration is cost of production then a 10% profit margin seems fair and I don't think that equals $60-$70 in Canada where every grocery store carries baby formula so it is readily available for consumers to purchase. It is NOT an exclusive product designed only for special access because we have human rights in Canada that includes the right to health. So baby formula isn't supposed to be for richer parents only letting poorer kids go without proper nutrition.

Baby formula should be priced to be easily affordable to ALL households, not just those with more disposable income than average.

You cannot schedule plant shutdowns to cause a delay in production to cause a temporary shortage to raise the cost of your product legally if this were a fair and just country. Or to shift the production line to deliver to another farther away market to sell overpriced product to other poor countries for a greater short term profit margin to boost bonuses to the executives of the company/corporation.

This is a human rights violation because my friend had to constantly borrow extravagant amounts of money from family while she was going back to school to get her Grade 12 so that she could onto further education so that in the future she could become a have household while currently being a have not. It's not fair to punish her because she had a child at a younger age than others. It doesn't make her stupid or selfish or greedy or anything negative. It makes her a mother. And no mother should have to worry about how her new child is going to eat if no one can lend her the money for the overpriced baby formula.

Maybe it's $50 but how many does a child go through in a week or two? It fucking adds up.

Stop being greedy fucking corrupt capitalists and get with the fucking program or else you are contributing to an unbalanced economy that will eventually crash and fuck us all.