#Women's self-defense near me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

genyukandojo · 9 months ago

Text

**Life to the Next Level: Martial Arts in NYC for Adults**

Immersed within the vibrant tapestry of New York City's bustling streets and diverse communities lies a sanctuary for personal growth and self-discovery – Martial Arts Classes near Rego Park. These institutions, scattered across the city's boroughs, offer a haven where individuals of all ages and backgrounds can embark on a transformative journey. From the iconic skyscrapers of Manhattan to the eclectic neighborhoods of Brooklyn, martial arts schools in NYC provide a rich array of disciplines and traditions, ranging from the fluid movements of Aikido to the dynamic strikes of Muay Thai. Within the walls of these schools, seasoned instructors guide students on a path of physical mastery, mental discipline, and spiritual enrichment. Whether practicing kata in a traditional dojo or sparring in a state-of-the-art training facility, students immerse themselves in a world of tradition, technique, and philosophy. More than mere training grounds, martial arts schools in NYC serve as communities where friendships are forged, challenges are overcome, and potential is unleashed. As students bow in respect before entering the dojo, they symbolically leave behind the chaos of the outside world, entering a realm where they can focus on self-improvement and personal empowerment. In this melting pot of cultures and ideologies, martial arts schools in NYC stand as beacons of unity, fostering an environment where individuals from all walks of life come together in pursuit of a common goal – to unlock their full potential and elevate their lives to new heights.

In the bustling metropolis of New York City, the pursuit of personal growth takes on many forms. From career advancements to academic achievements, individuals in the Big Apple are constantly striving to elevate their lives to the next level. However, amidst the skyscrapers and bustling streets, there lies an often overlooked avenue for personal development – martial arts.

For adults seeking a transformative journey of self-discovery and empowerment, martial arts in NYC offer a unique path. Whether you're in the heart of Manhattan or the borough of Queens, there are numerous Iaido Classes Near Rego Park and martial arts schools in New York City catering to individuals of all ages and skill levels. Let's delve into the world of martial arts in NYC for adults and explore the benefits of embarking on this enriching journey.

**Martial Arts in Queens, NY: A Gateway to Personal Growth**

Nestled within the vibrant borough of Queens, martial arts schools offer a sanctuary for adults looking to enhance their physical, mental, and spiritual well-being. With a diverse array of disciplines ranging from Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu to Taekwondo, Queens provides a rich tapestry of martial arts experiences for practitioners of all backgrounds.

**Exploring Martial Arts Schools in New York City: A Diverse Landscape of Opportunity**

In the concrete jungle of New York City, martial arts schools abound, each offering a unique blend of tradition, technique, and philosophy. Whether you're drawn to the fluid movements of Aikido or the dynamic strikes of Muay Thai, there's a martial arts school in New York City to suit every preference and personality.

**10 Key Reasons Why Aikido and Martial Arts are Essential for Personal Growth and Self-Defense**

1. **Aikido: The Art of Harmony and Self-Defense**

Aikido, a Japanese martial art founded by Morihei Ueshiba, emphasizes harmony and non-violent resolution of conflicts. Contrary to popular belief, Aikido is highly effective for self-defense, as it teaches practitioners to redirect an opponent's energy rather than meet force with force. Women can join, Women's Self Defense Class in NYC. Joining this class women can learn about self-defense through Aikido.

2. **Effectiveness of Aikido in Real-Life Situations**

Despite its gentle appearance, Aikido techniques are devastatingly effective in real-life self-defense scenarios. By leveraging an opponent's momentum and utilizing joint locks and throws, Aikido practitioners can neutralize threats without causing lasting harm.

3. **Best Self-Defense Classes in NYC**

For individuals seeking the best self-defense classes in NYC, Aikido stands out as a comprehensive system that prioritizes conflict resolution and de-escalation techniques. With its emphasis on blending and redirection, Aikido empowers practitioners to defend themselves while minimizing the risk of injury to both parties.

4. **Aikido in Queens: A Hub for Self-Defense**

In the borough of Queens, Aikido dojos provide a supportive environment for individuals looking to cultivate their self-defense skills. With experienced instructors and a welcoming community, Aikido in Queens offers a holistic approach to personal safety and empowerment.

5. **Aikido: More Than Just Self-Defense**

Beyond its practical applications in self-defense, Aikido offers a myriad of benefits for personal growth and development. From increased flexibility and coordination to enhanced mental focus and discipline, the practice of Aikido fosters holistic well-being in practitioners of all ages.

6. **The Psychological Benefits of Learning Martial Arts**

Martial arts training cultivates mental fortitude, resilience, and self-discipline, which are invaluable traits both inside and outside the dojo. By facing challenges head-on and overcoming obstacles, martial artists develop a growth mindset that extends beyond the confines of training.

7. **Physical Fitness and Martial Arts**

Engaging in martial arts promotes physical fitness and overall health, as practitioners develop strength, agility, and cardiovascular endurance through regular training. Whether practicing striking techniques or grappling drills, martial arts provide a full-body workout that improves both strength and flexibility.

8. **Empowerment Through Martial Arts**

Martial arts instill a sense of empowerment and self-confidence in practitioners, enabling them to navigate life's challenges with grace and resilience. By mastering new techniques and overcoming adversity in training, martial artists cultivate a mindset of perseverance and determination that serves them well in all aspects of life.

9. **Community and Camaraderie**

Martial arts schools foster a sense of community and camaraderie among practitioners, creating a supportive environment where individuals can learn and grow together. Whether sparring with training partners or sharing insights with fellow students, martial artists forge lifelong friendships rooted in mutual respect and shared passion.

10. **The Timeless Importance of Martial Arts**

In today's fast-paced world, the timeless importance of martial arts cannot be overstated. Beyond the physical techniques and self-defense skills, martial arts instill virtues such as respect, humility, and perseverance that are essential for personal growth and success in any endeavor.

In conclusion, martial arts offer a transformative journey of self-discovery and empowerment for adults in New York City. Whether practicing Aikido in Queens or exploring martial arts schools in Manhattan, individuals can elevate their lives to the next level through the practice of Modern Martial Arts NYC. With its emphasis on physical fitness, mental discipline, and self-defense, martial arts provide a holistic approach to personal growth that enriches both body and soul. So why wait? Take the first step on your martial arts journey today and unlock your full potential for a life lived to the next level.

#women's self defense class nyc #martial arts nyc adults #nyc martial arts center #martial arts near me #aikido schools in queens ny

0 notes

gamblersdoll · 1 month ago

Text

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔!

a dragon-king! bakugou who finally meets someone who can take him— and maybe this marriage isnt such a bad thing. p in v, virgin! katsuki, (he gets a little bit excited) established relationship, breeding kink/ pregnancy mention.

katsuki hated the fact he was the new heir to the throne, his father passing away and that was truly a part of his sanity. mitsuki was the one who pushed marriage, he had to have a wife and sooner or later, children.

‘in what fucking planet do we live in to where we have to get married, hag?’ he remembers being a teenager and asking that question over and over and over again. just to be hit with a ‘our numbers are depleting, katsuki. we have to do these things in order to survive.’

he still rolls his eyes to the thought, but not now— since his old hag of a fucking mother is actually serious. she actually seeded out women who always wanted to be a woman on the throne, a woman who has seen the dragon queens’ son and wanted to risk it all for him. he despises it, women who throw themselves to a man.

“which one do you like the most, son?” she asks, smile lines on her aged face pulled by her fanged smile. “and hurry, we dont have all day.”

“none of them.” he deadpanned.

“boy— pick one or ill have your head!”

“and everyone wonders how dad died—“ he says, before receiving a smack to the back of his blonde head. “ow!”

“pick one, now.” she repeats, fixing herself and smiling to the line of girls presented to them. “alot of them are just lively.”

he sighs, crimson eyes wandering and his eyes match onto you, seeming like you truthfully didnt want to be here. “you,” he barks, a finger pointed at you and he nods up. “do you not want to be here or something?”

“to be picked by a dragon king who doesnt have anything better to do? absolutely not.” you snort, his eyebrow twitching and mistuki chuckles.

“perfect! we��ll set both of you up on a evening together.” she announces, a good bit of the women groaning and both of you lock eyes. didnt she just hear you werent here on your own will? katsuki scoffs, storming off and a hand dragging down his face.

“please excuse him, he’s not used to these things and doesnt know his duty as the new king.” she phrases, hands on your shoulders and a beaming smile. “youre going to love my son, im sure of it.”

“uh.. okay.” you say, at a lost for words.

you would love her son, huh? yeah, guess you could say that. his temper tantrums died down over the months— yet, one thing was weirder than anything,

that hes never once initiated sex. was he nervous? no, he’s never nervous to sit you on his lap when barking orders to servants or to behead a woman for questioning your intelligence and beauty, so it couldnt be he was nervous.

“bakugou, i have a—“

“woman, ive told you to call me katsuki.” he interrupted, a hand on a hip of yours and a deep grumble in his chest. the tribal jewelry jingled against his skin, a huff from him.

“katsuki, i need to ask you something.” you correct yourself, not daring to look to him— and yet he was staring deep into you. “why dont you ever.. why dont you ever try and touch me?”

he pauses himself at the question, a tight squeeze and then he looks away. “because you ain’ ready yet.” he solemnly says, a hand patting your hip. “ill let you know when.”

“you say that every time, though.” you reply, trying to press the matter further. “whats the real reason?”

he pinches the bridge of his nose, defensively irritated. “because you arent ready, woman.” he growls, agitation reaching his veins. “im not going to sit here and repeat my damn self.”

you get off of his lap, hearing a ‘sit back down’ from his lips and storm off. you werent hurt from his words, but you were questioning them. what in gods hell did he mean ‘you werent ready?’ youre a full fledged adult, not some child who couldnt understand why she couldnt go near the ocean.

maybe a few hours later, your king stumbling in and you both lock eyes. he opens his lips, eyes burning into yours. “im not here to fight with ya,” he says, a hand reaching onto your thigh and he huffs. “i just dont think youre physically prepared, nor mentally.”

“you arent my keeper, katsuki,” you remind, looking over to him and folding your arms in a groan. it was too late for this, especially after doing daily tasks as his wife. “you dont make that decision for me.”

“technically, i do. i dont have to fuck a woman.” he reminds as well.

“and what, do you not want pups?” you ask, his eyes flickering to you and his bouncing knee stops. “or is it im just not doing something for you?”

“not once have i ever said i didnt want children with you, y/n.” he growled, his gripping on your thigh tight. “i just said that you weren’t ready for that kind of thing, what apart of that dont you understand?”

“and how do you know what i am and am not ready for? is it because you havent slept with anyone before?”

he looks at you, straight faced.. you feel a chill go through your body, and you feel as if you had entirely fucked up— forgotten that this was a dragon king that you were married to..

and that you were dealing with.

“the last woman i tried to marry with could barely take anything that i gave her, you want to be next?” he warns, a small ounce of venom tracing his lips and he raised an eyebrow. “watch how you address me.”

“you know damn well thats not what i meant—“

“so what did you mean?”

“i meant if this is your first marriage, your first woman you slept with, ever.” you admit, scrambling for words to better help your case.

“yes and no.” he replies, patting your thigh. “the many women i tried to mate with could barely handle the tip.”

“okay.. so she left you because youre big down there, boo hoo—“

“no, you’re not understanding what i’m saying.” he stops you, grabbing your hands. “im your first dragon man, so..”

“us dragon men, we are bigger than the average human being. thats why we are better suited for dragon women, because their bodies can handle it.” he explained, still staring into you. “you arent ready for that kind of thing yet—“

“yeah, if you dont even attempt with me.”

he runs his hand through his hair, a nervous scoff. “the last woman who said that, her cervix was bruised and she cant have pups now, do you want that for yourself or do you not care about us?”

“katsuki, you dont have to be scared to do this with me.” you say, not even taking into account that he was a competitor, saying such words strikes a chord within him. and his chest swells with pride, him crawling onto you.

“no one is scared, woman.”

dragon men were definitely alot bigger than the average human man, you could feel it against you through the clothes that he wore, and his hands being big enough to wrap around your entire thigh.

his lips leave your neck, a whine coming from your throat and a deep grumble comes from his. he ran hot, his palms heated and sweaty from the passion and him grinding himself into your stomach.

he was needy, he hadnt been this needy in years.

“katsuki..” you mumble, hands along his sides and he kisses your lips, shutting you up.

“you think yer’ ready, little one?” he asks, his eyes blown out and dilated. he had been waiting for this, you can tell. you nod, teeth pulling at the small of your lip corner and he nods with you. his pants fall… and he wasnt lying, being nine inches long and twenty two centimeters wide. you swallow thick, looking down to the second beast he was swinging around. “you like to listen now, dont you?”

you nod, spreading your legs and he licks his lips. you watch his crawl ontop of you, kissing your collarbone and pressing his tip against your folds.

“kat—“ you say, him grunting and looking to you. “dont be nervous, okay?”

he softens a little, immediately forgetting that and hardening again. “let me know when to stop, ‘kay?” he says, pressing his tip and pushing it in.

his eyes widen, hearing you groan from the sudden stretch and he feels heat swell in his stomach. he cant fucking believe it, watching his cock slip deeper into your walls and he starts to pant. his eyes turn to slits, his canines growing sharper and wider— he was losing himself, realizing he’d finally met a woman who can take more than just the tip of his dragon cock.

“katsukiiiii..” you whine, a hand on his pelvis and he growls. “see..? im okay.”

he licks his lips, saliva pooling at the corner and then dribbling down the side of his mouth. “no fuckin way..” he growls, gripping your hips and jerking his hips. “fucking half way.. half way.” he repeats to himself, bottoming out and he claws at the sheets.

the dragon king holds your hips, raising them a little and then pulling you up, slowly pulling you back down and letting you adjust to his size. “give it to me..” he growls out, it being a echo.

“give you what..?” you ask, chest heaving and nipple hardened.

“your grace, give me the go ahead to take you.” he repeats, seeing you nod and pressing your legs to his chest. he licks at your calves, seeing the fire inside of his eyes while his cock drives into your cervix. “fuck! take all of it— take it all!” he growls, folding you up and slamming his body weight against your thighs.

slapping of wet skin, slick and creamy folds echo throughout the dragon kings bedroom—the dragon king becoming animalistic and he grabs your breasts in each hand. “katsukikatsukikatsuki!” you chant his name, eyes rolling and you cant remember how many orgasms youve been through from the dragon king.

“fuck— fucking have them, have my fucking pups!” he rumbles, nails digging into you as crescent moons into your skin and he presses his forehead to yours. “carry my kids, fucking take them— getting fucked fat with my kids— fuckk!”

he groans, pulling you down onto his cock as he stills. his cock gets pushed out, the dragon kings’ semen being in so much amounts it forces it out. he pants, ragged breaths and he falls against you, his body returning to his original state and his eyes return normal.

“katsuki?”

“mm.” he grunts, looking up to you and his face gets covered by your plush breasts.

“i dont want to say i told you so…

but i told you so.”

“do you remember when you thought i would die from having sex with you?” you say, sitting in the bathtub and bubbles cover your wet skin. “you were so nervous.” you chuckled, putting your hands on your round belly.

“yeah.. was kind of a punk for that.” he chuckles, smile lines, but yet— frown lines pulled from his chuckle. “you look gorgeous, beautiful.” he praises, kissing your cheek and putting a hand on your belly. “water too hot?”

“im carrying dragons, katsuki.” you remind, raising your hand to his cheek and caressing it. you feel his smile, and his lips press to yours. “the midwife should be here, soon.”

she was already there, both of you being enamored with each other to miss the part that was most important.

“what do you mean she’s having triplets?!”

#dvs haunted mansion 🧟‍♀️#katsuki smut #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #bakugo katuski #katsukibakugou #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #kastuki bakugou #bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x black reader #bakugo smut #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugou x black! reader

868 notes · View notes

listofwhyyouloveher · 2 months ago

Note

Greaser gang x fem reader who’s physically stronger than them? Maybe with military training of some kind. Would they be impressed?

Summary: The gang x Military Reader Warnings: enforced women gender roles, (SORRY YALL) Author's Note: none PONYBOY knows that you did combat training with the military, he knows you've done incredibly challenging and physically strenuous tasks, but he will NEVER EVER let you do anything hard. He's always moving things for you, even if you and him both know that you couldve done it better. He will forever do it for you because he cares for you. He never actually realises the extent of your strength until he saw you 3v1 a bunch of drunk soc's that tried to jump Pony. JOHNNY tries to not think of you as a protector. He knows thats typically his job, and he tries to act tuff when his nerves dont freeze up, but he genuinely is so grateful when you step in for him and stuff like that. He doesn't feel babied but cared for. He realized his lack of parents made him want to become more independant, but having you around makes him more able to lean on people more. SODAPOP is actually floored when you beat him in an arm wrestle. He knows you have military training, but he always thought it was for like a 'red cross nurse', not ACTUAL military training. He's replaying the moment over and over in his mind, actually shocked at how smoothly you beat him. He's always asking you to work out or train with him when goes to the gym. He wants to steal all your secrets so he can be as strong as you. STEVE is never letting go of the fact that you can easily carry him. He's drunkenly rambling about it everywhere, "do you think I need to gain a few pounds?", "Should I work out more?". He's not self-concious, just dazed and confused. He doesn't get you girly things anymore, (unless its makeup and clothes etc.) now he gets you cups and bumper stickers with like "worlds best lumberjack", etc.

TWO BIT is definetly the type of guy to make a joke about how he's the actual lady of the house. Its become a running gag between the two of you after you out drank him at a party and then proceeded to body slam him after he told you you couldn't. You even bought him an apron which he actually uses when he wants to cook something for an anniversary. He has you teach his sister vital points for self-defense and absolutely adores how well you two get along. DARRY isn't exactly shocked at the sight of a buff woman, most of the greaser girls use muscle to do things anyways. But you had the most incredible and toned physice. Both men and women would be jealous and trust me Darry was a little jealous. He used you as inspiration to work out and get into shape again. He really is impressed and actually gets a little shy when you come around. Like, light pink blush and down casted eye typa shy.

DALLAS is trying to act like he isnt totally into you, but he is. He tries not to spend a minute of his time thinking about you, but like Darry you also inspired him to get into better shape. He never goes near you, he's scared this his reputation might scare you and you'd either 1) never go near him again (nooo, he totally likes you) or 2) bitch slap him and humiliate him. So he's content looking from afar.

#shroomsroom #clara'sroom #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #dally winston x reader #steve randle x reader #johnny cade x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #darrel curtis x reader #darry curtis x reader #two bit matthews x reader #two bit x reader #two bit mathews x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #pony curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #soda curtis x reader

160 notes · View notes

pacifymebby · 1 year ago

Text

Afraid of Everyone / Alfie Solomons

Hurt/comfort tw kinda violence against women/misogyny, mostly just soft protective Alfie. Based on that PTSD episode I had a few weeks ago.

You looked petrified. That was the only way he could describe you and the look you'd unintentionally shot in his direction. Even from across the crowded bar he could tell that you were trembling. That you'd done your best to be stubborn and brave in the face of the cunt who'd just gotten a little nasty with you at the bar because you'd rejected his advances, but that now the moment of conflict had passed you were frozen to the spot, scared that any sudden movement would see you spiral and burst into tears.

He hadn't ever really seen you like this before. You were always the suffer in silence, the indignant, stubborn and self defensive type. But he recognised the look in your eyes from the faces of other women he'd known. That teetering on the edge of tears look. The thin line of your lips pressed together, tight and unsmiling. The stubborn stare, the determination not to cry giving your upset and terror away. A real tragedy because you were doing so well to stand your ground and had you not inadvertently shot him that "help me" look just then you'd have had everyone in the room fooled.

But you couldn't fool him and he knew exactly what you needed in that moment when the dread was squeezing your chest too tightly. When your legs and hands were shaking. When you were struggling to breath steady. You needed him, your Alfie to come sweeping in. To steal you away from that overcrowded, shit hole he didn't even understand why you'd come to anyway. Pretty little sweetheart such as yourself, trying to stand her ground in the arse end of London Town.

He'd made his mind up about cutting in before he saw one of those lary fuckers raise his hand to you, before he heard the vile thing he said to you too. But when the half cut man staggered forward into you and spat his scorned vitriol in your face Alfie couldn't stop himself.

"Alright then..." he announced his presence with his hands on your shoulders, the warmth of his body behind yours sending a little quiver of relief through you. The sound of his voice giving you the strength to remain standing tall in the face of the cunt who stood leering at you across the table. "Alright then my little cherub you gonna introduce me to your new friends? They don't look very friendly mind you, nah... Specially not this cunt... Nah ziskeit, this cunt in particular looks like a right miserable... Well..." he flexed his tone, taking one hand from your shoulder to caress your cheek with the back of his knuckles.

"Well... He looks like a cunt don't he..."

The cool metal of his rings soothed the blush burning your skin and when his fingers lingered near your mouth you understood exactly what he was doing.

Saving you.

Promising to take you home and take care of you just as soon as he'd scared these poor bastards out of town.

"Now then," started Alfie, his eyes narrowing as he looked between the two men who had stood so proudly only moments before but who were already cowering away under Alfie's cruel glare. They'd certainly sobered up in the seconds it had taken him to cut between you. Pick them out. Get their measure. "Now then boys... Got a little favour to ask you haven't I eh my sweets.. got a teensy tiny little favour to ask you right?" he said stroking his hand down your arm, his tender little acts uncanny when compared to the tone in which he spoke.

His fingers found yours and entwined with them for a moment, locking and then unlocking, dancing lightly over your palm as he carried on drawing out his threats.

"Y'see boys," he said, "I'm gettin on a bit now me and well my hearin' just ain't what it used to be yeah... And I miss things sometimes right...things I'd quite like to hear... And just now yeah, when you were talking to my lovely, frankly 'too pure to share the same fuckin breathin space as you' girl yeah, well I was all the way over there right..." He said eyes going wide as he gestured with his hand to the other side of the room, walking his fingers through the air just before you so that neither you nor the men in question could take their eyes of his menacing hand. "See it's quite far ain't it that... Quite far away wouldn't you agree?"

You watched the two men nodding, saw how they tried to hide their shaking. Saw how they tried to inch away. They must have known they couldn't really run. Must have known they were trapped and at Alfies mercy.

So now they knew exactly how they'd made you feel. As Alfie opened his long coat and subtly wrapped it around your shoulder, letting you press yourself against his chest, letting you hide behind the thick black material and quiver into his side, you couldn't help but smile at that; the knowledge that those two men were feeling small. Just as small as they had made you feel only moments before.

"So yeah, this favour what I want you two boys to do for me, Alfie Solomons the king of Camden fuckin Town, therefore by extension the king of this here fuckin shithole of a public house... Yeah... What I want right... Is for you to repeat exactly what you just said to my girl yeah? Cause I was pretty far away right and I'm not entirely sure I heard you right yeah.. and before you say anything yeah..." He held his finger to his lips to shush them, his eyes wide and theatrical, that eccentricity leaving the two men with unsteady knees, "before you say another word right I want you to think very fuckin carefully about what you're gonna say alright... Cause the thing is yeah, what I reckon is that you'd better fuckin hope I didn't hear you right.. cause if I did yeah, if you did in fact say the terrible, frankly horrifying unrepeatable things I thought I heard you say just now yeah... I'm gonna take your fuckin billiards yeah, and I'm gonna make you swallow em one by fuckin one until your ugly cuntin face caves in..."

You watched their faces pale, watched the blue tinge of fear taint their skin as they froze, mouths opening and closing, panic setting in. But Alfie didn't do anything. Didn't carry out a single one of his threats because with you wrapped up within the confines of his coat he could feel your little body trembling against his and he knew he needed to take you home. Needed to get you somewhere quiet where it could be just the two of you. Where he could sit you in his lap and take care of you the way you needed him in that moment with your big sad eyes looking up at him all watery and scared.

"Nah," he sighed, his sudden softness uncanny when matched with the glare he'd fixed on those men. The way his hand lingered in the air between him and them, accusatory finger still extended towards them as he changed his mind. Lowered his voice and grew tender instead, focussing on you.

"Nah," he shook his head, pulled his coat tighter around you and squeezed you to his chest with one arm holding you to his warm body. The other still aimed at his new enemies. "Reckon I'll make em wait eh? Give em a little while to ruminate on all their sins before they see their comeuppance yeah? What do you think eh my little ziskeit? You reckon we should make em wait it out?" He asked looking down at you, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing a tear which had slipped from your lashes despite your best efforts not to cry.

"Yeah," you tried to say, though your voice never made it beyond your lips he still knew what you'd meant to say to him.

"Alright then," he grinned snapping his fingers towards the bar, pointing out the two cunts he couldn't wait to get his hands on in the morning, "Alright mate... You see these two miserable cunts there yeah... See em? Can't miss em really ugliest fucks for a country mile... I mean look at em, cunts should be livin in the dungeons at the opera Garnier, phantom of the operas a prettier sight than them two... It's like the fuckin elephant man gôr disentry right.. and shat himself... Fuckin disentry mate."

"Uh... Yes Mr Solomon's..." The poor lad behind the bar stood watching Alfie with a timid, uncertainty in his eyes, wringing his towel between his hands. Worrying, you imagined, about what was about to be asked of him.

"Right well y'see these poor bastards right... And I say "poor" but don't you go feeling sorry for them now alright, don't you feel sorry for em cause theyve fuckin earned their right to be "poor" haven't they..." Alfie let his voice wander up an octave as he spoke, that familiar meandering madness leaving the whole room in silence as they watched the scene unfold.

You hidden away in the folds of Alfie's long black coat, him with one arm wrapped around his girl, the other gesticulating between the two men who stood still trying to beg forgiveness. Their voices trembling and meek, going ignored by everyone else in favour of Alfie's theatrics. The poor lad behind the bar wringing his towel in his hands, doing his best to follow Alfie's request.

"Where was I? Oh right yeah... You ain't got a naughty step in here have you?"

"A naughty step?" The boy stuttered looking between Alfie and another bar man, begging his friend to help him.

"Yeah, y'know... somewhere they can sit nice and quiet yeah, have a good long think about what they've done?"

"Uh.." the lad hesitated, his frightened eyes meeting yours for a moment, fleeing almost the second he'd seen the whites of your eyes, not wanting to look at you when it was clear Alfie was doing his best to keep you protected and hidden away. He didn't want to find himself on the receiving end of that infamous, sociopathic temper.

"Here," Alfie clicked his fingers, pointed to a stool by the back door which was being used to prop it open, "what about this one yeah? Nice and low to the ground an all... Right where you belong.." he narrowed his eyes at the men quivering before him, flashed them a malicious grin, "fuckin sit down both of you yeah... Nah there's not much room so you'll have to share yeah... Both of you right, I want both of you to fuckin sit yourselves down there right, nice and quiet yeah... You fuckin sit there and you don't move a muscle till I come back for you yeah?" He asked waiting for a response, chuckling when the two men backed away nodding frantically as they did exactly as they were told.

You felt Alfie's chest vibrate with his low chuckle and tried to smile yourself. It was hard however because you hadn't yet managed to shake the panic that those men had sparked in you. You hadn't been able to calm down. All this time you'd been using every fibre of strength you had in you to hold it together until you were safe and sound and out of sight but you were beginning to run out of energy. Any minute now you were sure you were going to break.

"Alfie," you mouthed, tugging on his shirt to get his attention. To make him look down at you so that he'd see the paleness in your frightened face and understand. You needed him to take you home.

"Right," he nodded, his eyes locked with yours, trying to comfort you without words or affections so as not to give your vulnerability away. "Right Ollie my boy... where are ya treacle... Ollie my lad keep an eye on these two right... If they so much as blink yeah... If they so much as blink you have my explicit permission to perform whichever act of exquisite violence you so wish..."

And with that Alfie had swept you away, the crowd parting for the pair of you as you left.

The air outside was cold and a fine rain dusted over you both as you walked but you didn't feel the cold because Alfie kept you tucked up inside his coat with him, his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you close.

He knew that that was what you needed above everything else just then. Some kind of physical connection, something to hold onto. Someone to feel close to.

And there was no one who could make you feel as loved or as safe as him.

You stopped beneath a streetlight and he turned you around in his arms, squeezed you tight to his chest all wrapped up in his embrace, your face buried in his shirt, breathing in his soft rum and woodland scent. You nuzzled into him and he stroked his fingers through your hair, cradling your head to him as he bowed his toward you and kissed you tenderly. Let his lips linger in your hair as he listened to your shivered breaths.

"Alright littlen," he sighed softly, "s'alright my little ziskeit, you're with me now yeah, just you an me and your Alfs gonna take care of you now right, Papas gonna get you home right, gonna make you feel all better yeah?"

You smiled into his shirt, holding onto him a little tighter, arms wrapped around his waist, his still holding you snug and tight so that you knew he meant every word he'd just said.

For a minute he let you stay there, holding onto him, face buried in his shirt, your frame tucked away inside his big coat, the heavy wool going some way to making you feel safe too. He stroked your hair down your back and rocked you from side to side, his eyes narrowed on the quiet street as he surveyed the shadows. He wouldn't relax until he'd gotten you home but he didn't want to make you worry so he did his best to relax his body, did his best to put the anger he felt to one side. To box it away until the morning when he planned to return to that pub and exact his revenge.

For now however the rain was beginning to soak into his coat and your dress and your sad expression was beginning to pinch with cold.

"Alright my girl," he said stroking his thumb over your cheek, letting it rest on your lips as he spoke, "alright poppet time to go home..."

🐻💌🐻

Until you'd met Alfie you'd done a lot of fending for yourself. Faced a lot of things alone. You weren't necessarily built for it, hadn't particularly excelled at it, but for the most part you'd survived well enough on your own. You'd been doing it so long that even after the older man had made it his new life's passion to take you under his wing and dote on your every need, you never quite got used to having someone else worry about you or take care of you.

That's why you'd been so determined not to cry in front of anyone else. That's why when Alfie got you home and closed the front door behind you both, giving you strict instructions to go and get warm by the fire you ignored him. Took yourself straight up to the bedroom and began to undress.

To you the evening was a write off, a night of total humiliation and weakness that you would rather forget. You just wanted to climb into bed, curl up foetal position small and snug, and hopefully fall asleep before you started crying on Alfie.

He'd seen you cry before, naturally, but that wasn't the point. The less the better as far as you were concerned. You weren't a little girl, you weren't weak, you were stronger than most women and you were determined to show Alfie that. Because of everyone Alfie was the one who appeared to have the hardest time believing that you could look after yourself.

You didn't even notice his shadow in the doorway or the sound of his footsteps as he came to a halt in the frame, his gaze fixed on you. You were too busy trying to take your shoes off and slip out of your skirts to realise he was watching you. Wondering why you weren't doing as he'd told you to.

"Now then poppet..." he said softly, his gaze warm but stern as he watched and waited for you to turn around. When you looked up at him you felt a nervous flutter in your tummy, a shiver running through you as your glossy eyes shone with tears and blinked up at him. If he kept looking at you like that, with all the gentleness of a father, you were going to break down. You were already so close to falling apart and the tender way his attentions were fixed on you then was leaving you struggling.

But Alfie didn't want you to struggle. He didn't want you to hold back.

"Ziskeit," he said with a gentle tsk tsk, "come 'ere girl," he said, a gentle warning tone to his low voice as he held your gaze and waited for you to do as you were told.

You hesitated, wanting to shake your head and argue with him, wanting to tell him to leave you alone... But you didn't argue back with your Alfie and you knew that if you told him to leave you now he wouldn't listen. Still, you tried.

"I'm fine Alf don't look at me like that... I'm alright really I just wanna go to bed..."

But as you argued your voice weakened because he held your gaze, looked at you with knowing eyes and remained stable and stubborn, waiting for you in the doorway.

"Now don't start with all that ziskeit, cause me an you both know it ain't true and you ain't the kind of girl who tells lies... Come on now darlin, come give your old man a cuddle yeah? You wouldn't deprive your devoted old Alfie of that would you ziskeit?" He asked offering you a tender, teasing little smirk. One which despite its humour you knew you couldn't deny.

So when he opened his arms out for you to fall into you gave in, slipped from the edge of the bed into his warm embrace, nuzzling into his shoulder as he closed his arms tight around your frame.

"There we go, good girl, good girl..." He cooed softly, his husky voice gentle and tickling your ear as he pressed a kiss to your cheek bone and whispered to you. Gentle things which left tears prickling in your eyes. "There we go my little ziskeit, back where you belong yeah? Back where you belong in your Alfie's arms..." he said every tender sentence like a sigh, his words caressing you so that you finally felt safe enough to let go of all that fear, all that hurt which had been building and rotting away inside you.

The first few tears escaping terrified you. You didn't want to let them fall but you couldn't control them. You tried to snatch at your cheek with your hand to wipe them away, you tried to blink and stare at the ceiling until your eyes dried out and stung but it was already too late and besides, Alfie was determined that you were going to cry. You needed to cry, even if you didn't seem to realise that yet he knew it.

"S'alright my little ziskeit, go on poppet have a big old cry yeah, never mind tryin to be brave ziskeit, papa don't want you to be brave now alright..." He murmured stroking your cheek with his thumb and pressing a lingering kiss to your forhead.

He closed his eyes as he bowed his head to yours and wrapped his arms around you tightly. He could feel you shaking as you tried to control your sobbing, he could tell you were still trying to hold back.

"Don't do that my little love," he warned tenderly stroking your hair, cradling your head in the palm of his hair, "remember who knows best yeah ziskeit, me yeah, your Alfie... An I'm tellin you not to be brave yeah... World's had enough of brave now alright, needs a little gentleness yeah, a little feeling right... Now I've got you ain't I, it's just you an me, you an your Alfie... You don't have to be brave for me little ziskeit, you don't have to be brave for me..."

And as he spoke you felt it all finally catching up to you, all the adrenaline of the evening hitting you like a freight train. Leaving you shaking and distraught, barely able to hold yourself up, your legs trembling as you shook and collapsed against Alfie's chest, your knees buckling so that he had to catch you and scoop you up into a steadier hold.

"Oh my little ziskeit," he sighed, his heart aching for you and all the sorrow and fear he could hear in your sobbing. You'd broken down just like a little girl, lost control of your emotions completely and though he knew it was good for you to get it all out, he wished you didn't have to. Wished he could snap his fingers and make all that pain go away.

He was supposed to be your great protector and yet he hadn't been able to protect you from all this.

He let out a sigh and let his own knees give in sinking slowly to the floor with you in his arms, leaning against the wall and relaxing his legs out in front of him.

"There there my darlin, there there my little ziskeit, 'salright poppet I've got you yeah, you're safe with me little ziskeit, ain't gonna let a soul hurt you ever again..." he murmured to you kissing your temple and bundling you up into his arms so that he could cradle you in his lap.

He felt your body shaking with convulsive sorrow and rested one hand in your hair. He knew that all there was to do was wait it out, wait there with you stroking your hair whilst you cried yourself into exhaustion.

"Why are people always so fuckin cruel Alfie, why are men so fucking cruel..." You sobbed, your voice anguished and shrill and breaking his heart as he stroked his fingers across your cheek and shushed you gently.

"I know ziskeit," he said swallowing a lump in his throat, feeling that familiar cold determination grio him, his mind already beginning to turn to plans of revenge. The things he was going to do to make those evil bastards regret causing you this pain. "This time tomorrow though my darlin, this time tomorrow the world will be down two fuckin cruel men though yeah, promise you that my poppet..." he said pushing a lock of hair from your face, looking down at your tear stained cheeks with such tenderness as you tried to speak again, working yourself up into even more of a state.

"But... But even if you kill them there'll still be... M...more.." you sobbed trying to swat his hand away when he cupped your cheek in his palm and pushed his thumb to your lips gently.

"Hush now ziskeit, shh," he hummed pushing his thumb between your lips, ignoring your hand on his wrist which tried to argue back. He waited patiently until he felt your mouth close around his thumb, until he felt your tongue brush over him and you began to suck. "There we are poppet," he said with a soft smile, watching your eyes flutter shut, your lashes heavy and dewy with tears. "That's better ziskeit, settle down yeah, don't you worry about anymore of them cruel bastards now, you don't need to worry about any of them no more, I'm here now ziskeit and I ain't gonna let no one touch you no more, not a soul... Only hands you're ever gonna feel on you again yeah, the only fuckin hands ever gonna touch this angelic little face right, are these two hands right here... You're mine my little ziskeit, all mine yeah... An am gonna look after you right... Gonna start by puttin them two sorry cunts in the ground..."

You opened your eyes then, lying with your head in his lap, looking up at him with teary doe eyes. He looked down at you, let you drag your lips over and away from his thumb for long enough to ask one more question.

"Promise?"

Your voice was but a sweet little whisper. Your lips hovering by the tip of this thumb and he cupped your cheek in his palm and let you nuzzle into the heart of his hand.

"Promise."

Taglist:

@mollybegger-blog @zablife @impossibleheartflower @liliac-dreamer @inalovesrabbits-blog @jomarch-wannabe @itsghostgirlyo @marwwfairy

@toddlerbodybag

@everysage

@tommyshelbywhore

@kas3ylovesyou

@call-sign-shark

@cocoaflowers

#alfie solomons x reader #pealy blinders imagine #hurt/comfort #peaky blinders imagines #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fluff

437 notes · View notes

storiesfromafan · 25 days ago

Text

Easy On My Eyes - Benny x Reader

A/N: I decided to turn All I Dream Of into a series (?), as I wanted to do Benny seeing the reader for the first time. Also I have a few other idea's, which I am interested in exploring.

I know, so much Benny haha. But I will say I might have a Feyd series in the works...just not sure I can do his character justice. Were as so many stories on here I have read, and they are amazing!

Tag List: @psychocitylights @wavyjassy

She was all that I could see

She was all that was in front of me

Try to climb the mountain peaks

What if I only ever reach the sea?

Would you stay awake and wait for me?

-Easy On My Eyes by Stephen Sanchez

Benny never had an issue with women. They were always happy to flirt and be on the back of his bike. But when it came to his attention, when they didn't get it as much as they wanted, those women would loose it. And eventually they would walk away from him. Always wanting to change Benny, wanting him to be a person he wasn’t.

Benny doesn't ask nobody for nothing. And he doesn't want nothing from nobody. It's not him, never will be. Yet the one thing he wanted was someone who accepts him, all of him. And at times it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Then there was you. A quiet, sweet little thing, Benny had thought when he first saw you.

It had been a warm spring afternoon. He'd pulled up by the curb of the large park in town, his bike seeming to be playing up. Shutting it off, Benny decided to let it sit for a while and hopefully he could get it to Cal. So there he was, leaning against his bike and having a cigarette. The looks he was getting weren't the warmest.

The next time Benny looked up and around he noticed you, walking next to an older woman, who he guessed to be your mother. The pair of you were carrying a few shopping bags, that was when Benny took in your uniform. And it told him you worked at the grocery shop that you both must have come from. The pastel green and blue dress looked good against your complexion, and your hair was pulled up in a ponytail with a few hairs that had come loose framing your face. You must have been working when your mother went in to do some shopping, making you help with getting the groceries home after you were finished work.

Your mother looked to be the one doing all the talking, while you had a look of boredom on your face. You weren’t afraid to show that side. Most women were brought up to always be poised, proper and wear a warm expression on their face. It was an act, a mask that mothers taught their daughters to do. Young women were expected to be perfect ladies. Yet you might look perfect, your bored expression told otherwise. It was a breath of fresh air to Benny.

When you walked past him, your mother looked to Benny before turning away in fear. Nothing new for him. Yet when you looked to him, your expression was blank. But in your eyes, for a brief moment, Benny thought he saw a spark of intrigue. Not to mention that you stared at him longer then most girls would. Then you had passed him. Benny watching the back of you, and your mother, as you walked on. But then he saw you look back at him over your shoulder for a moment.

That was it. From that moment on Benny knew he wanted to know you. And he had told himself every time you were near that he would talk to you. But something would always stop him from doing so. Call it nerves or being self conscious, but Benny would always falter. And then when his chance was lost, he’d kick himself over it.

So when you were leaving the diner, and a few of the other Vandals were making fun of you. That was it for Benny. He got defensive for you. A quiet woman who didn’t seem to speak up for herself. So it was his job to do it for you. And the surprised look upon your face, looking at him had been worth speaking up. Until you got scared and took off.

The guys who’d been teasing you then turned it on him. Laughing and saying he’d scared you off, how afraid of him you were. And Benny thought they were probably right. Yet he could of sworn he saw hope on your face. So he wasn’t ruling you out just yet. Benny was more determined now to speak to you, to learn more about you.

For the first time in a while Benny had something to chase after. And he wasn’t going to give up, or let it go.

#benny cross x reader #benny cross x y/n #benny cross x you #the bikeriders x reader #austin butler x reader #benny the bikeriders

82 notes · View notes

justwinginglife · 4 months ago

Note

May I have a request for Hoshina with a s/o who have a ability to heal people? It's either injuries or even broken bones. She's a doctor (or medic) in the defense force, she didn't use ability unless its very serious. She's not even a kaiju.

Imagine when Hoshina was in life and death situation or brink of death dealing a tough opponent/Kaiju she saved him with her abilities and he woke up fully healed. She explained to him she have these abilities of hers, since she was born.

Very interesting prompt, sorry for the wait and thanks for being patient. It definitely was difficult for me to figure out how to work the healing powers into a universe that doesn’t have powers so I hope what I went with turned out okay. Also fun fact- this post could've been significantly better but it accidentally got deleted somehow and I had to start all over from the beginning and try to remember what I wrote and it was so devastating so the writing is definitely not as good as it could've been.

A Reason To Live

Your mother was a freak of nature and apparently it was genetic.

You’d been told she was already strong, already tough, already fast, like all the women on her family’s side, even to the point of being declared superhuman but it wasn’t enough for her. She’d lost her husband and all her children to the Kaiju and she’d never be able to repair that damage to herself, that feeling of never being enough, much as she tried to through lengthy experimentation and numerous scientific enhancements to her body. Eventually, the stress of being pregnant with the last child her dead husband would ever give her overwhelmed her heart and she passed on.

You were born as the result of all that experimentation and that, mixed with your already inhuman genetics led to an interesting development, one that had never been heard of before. You had the power to heal. And nothing else.

You thought it a useless power at first. You were so focused on being the failure of your bloodline. You had planned on joining the Defense Force, like your whole family had before you- anything to feel connected to them. But whatever it was that made them outstanding, you didn’t have it, you didn’t have their strength or their speed, and you were devastated at the thought that your bloodline would die with your unimpressive self.

Then, one day when you were walking home, you noticed a tourist standing on the edge of a bridge. Before you realized how desperately they were eying the murky waters below, they jumped. Unable to catch them in time, you cursed your own inadequacies again as you ran to pull their limp body from the river. As you dragged them to the bank, you realized they were still alive, but just barely. They were badly injured but had enough life in them to whisper their regrets, to murmur they actually did want to live. And it touched something deep inside you, awakened some ancient power, and you healed them like it was second nature.

Saving them made you realize that even though you couldn’t shoot a gun or swing a sword for shit, you could still make a difference. So you became a doctor, only saving your powers for the most serious of cases, but studying your ass off so hard you almost didn’t need to use your gift.

And for the first time in your life, you were content, you made peace with your strengths and your weakness, and you felt like you actually had a purpose. You almost didn’t even realize you were missing anything in life until you made the acquaintance of one Soshiro Hoshina. You had been okay just being content with your life but he made you experience more than just contentment- he made your life blissful.

You couldn't imagine what you'd do without him constantly making excuses to see you. He'd bring in officers, any officers at all, and claim they needed treatment for rug burns or paper cuts, anything he could do to see you, to be near you.

He'd bring you your favorite coffee every morning just to be the first one to say good morning to you and put a smile on your face.

He'd even wait for you to finish work so he could walk you home, saying that it wasn't safe for such a gorgeous woman like you to be alone at night.

Sometimes you were glad you were weaker than him, so you could rely on his strength. And he loved that you relied on him, he loved to provide for you, to protect you.

But on some occasions, today in particular, those familiar insecurities would crawl their way back up to the surface reminding you just how weak you really were.

Today he was hurt. Badly. And all you could do was sit and wait for them to bring him to you on the verge of death. You would have given anything to be able to fight by his side, to protect him so he wouldn’t even need your healing in the first place. Sometimes you were scared you wouldn’t be able to heal him, wouldn’t be able to save him, he'd be too far gone. Maybe one day he wouldn’t even survive the journey back to you. Then what would you do? How would you go on with your life? Could you find contentment again? You didn't think so.

He'd even smiled at you weakly when they first brought him in. He was always trying to comfort you when he was the one that needed comfort. You thought you might just die right there beside him if you couldn't see that smile again.

You cleared everyone out of the clinic, anxious to start treating him. No one knew about your powers but you didn't want to waste time trying to treat him without them, he meant too much for you to start with conventional methods. So you kicked everyone out and got to work healing him.

You thought this might be the day your powers failed you as he didn't seem to be responding. But then you heard a groan and his eyes blinked open. You sighed, the sound thick with relief.

"Love, I know you're a good doctor but this is something else." He lifted his arms and examined every square inch of skin, trying to process the complete lack of an injury anywhere.

"Guess you weren't hurt that badly." You muttered nervously, trying to figure out how you were going to explain this to him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Dearest, my life was flashing before my eyes, I think might've actually been dying. So whatever you did, you did a hell of a job."

"Well I'm just glad you're okay." You were eager to drag him away from the topic.

"You know... I saw you, out there. Out on the battlefield when I thought I was dying. Couldn't think of anything else. You're my whole world."

You bit back tears. "And y-you're mine. So don't go dying on me again, okay? Promise."

He chuckled. "Can't do that love, but I'll do my best not to die on you anytime soon. Now are you gonna tell me how you yanked me back from the Underworld?"

You bit your lip.

He ran his thumb over your lip, forcing your teeth to release it. "It's okay baby, it's just me. You can tell me anything."

You nodded slowly. "I know, I know, love. It's just... it's complicated."

He sat up in bed, wanting to give you his full attention and support.

You got in the bed with him, not wanting to look at him but not wanting to be far from him, so you snuggled up against his chest as you told him everything.

He was surprisingly very receptive to the whole situation. Even cracked jokes about being able to get into more trouble now that he knew you could save him like that, which earned him one hell of a lecture from you about staying out of danger best he could.

As much as you liked when he visited your clinic, you never wanted him to visit on a gurney. You weren't sure your heart could take anymore scares. After being so lost for most of your life, you finally found a reason for living and you'd be damned if you'd let that slip away from you.

He held you close the rest of the night and reassured you with many sweet promises that he would be careful and that he'd try not to do anything to endanger his future with you. Once you were satisfied, you fell asleep in his arms. It was a weight off your chest to finally tell him the one thing you'd been keeping from him and you slept soundly against him, knowing he now had every part of you.

He slept just as soundly, comforted by the thought of having every part of you for life.

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina #anime #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader

134 notes · View notes

dramatic-dolphin · 6 days ago

Note

Re. Your women being so scared thing. And to be clear I mostly agree with you.

I'm not sure where you're from, but I'm from New York, and I can say for sure that I'd feel more safe in the most dangerous part of the UK than basically anywhere in the US. My Parisian aunt thinks Gare du Nord too dangerous to walk near under any circumstances, but to me it seems like a normal bigger train station level of danger, and the streets around it seem normal. I lived in a university town in the UK for a year, and I never felt in danger there or in London, even alone, even in the middle of the night. I was never alone in Berlin, but I was out at night, and I felt at least as comfortable as I would in New York. So I think, at last in the places I've been and from my experience, America is more dangerous and much scarier. I have never been street harassed in the UK, and I have been harassed and followed in New York plenty, and had several people attempt to attack me. Men in the US will also often harass you from a car, which is an explicit threat. It's also important to remember that parking lots are bad places to be and most of the US has to drive, and therefore park.

That said, I know some women who won't ride the subway at night, or at all, and that seems very paranoid to me. If you're riding at a remotely normal time and are paying any attention to your surroundings, you're almost certainly going to be fine. I also know girls who, even once they're in a car, of course, will send friends their location just in case. This seems extremely paranoid to me. Maybe check you're going the right way like one time. I do still think some of the things people do can be reasonable caution - yeah, didn't go hiking on a first date - but the perspective people are throwing at you strikes me as distinctly privileged. No one who's ever had a job can think that way. I've worked with a few women who took cars home after every shift, or their dad or their boyfriend picked them up in a car, and at that point, you have a job as a hobby, because unless he works nearby, you just spent your minimum wage on gas. If you take a cab home in New York, from Manhattan to any other borough, that's most of your pay. So to me, this level of paranoia generally reads that you've never had to be alone anywhere so you don't understand what it means, and you've never had to do shit with, and if you did do it, the money wasn't important.

Yeah a lot of time I get mad at this online because it just seems overly paranoid to me, and then a woman comes in with a personal experience or anecdotes, and it hits me that maybe the US *is* actually that bad? I live in Hungary, and I really like walking alone in the city at night, or going for long walks in the forest alone, and I've never really felt unsafe doing that, but - and this is crucial - neither have most of the women I talk to. Or at least, not to this degree. So, yeah, the US is possibly worse and more unsafe? I can believe that, it's just hard to conceptualize I guess, since the US likes to portray itself as tbe baseline for a "civilized" country, and I live in *Eastern Europe*. So there's preconceptions here, lol.

But yes, a lot of these, even when corrected for this, are just paranoid, there's no other way to see it. Like, no matter where you live, you truly do NOT need to share your location every time you leave home. And there's also the matter of being disconnected from the people and community around you, like being scared to help your neighbor or someone on your street. We live in a society, you kind of have to take an active part of it.

A lot of it is just a lot of energy spent on being scared every waking moment of your life. Like, okay, in the reddit thread I saw this in, there was a woman saying that she ALWAYS puts her ID in her front pocket when she goes outside so they can easily IDENTIFY THE BODY IF SHE DIES. Like what material good does worrying about this bring to your life? It's not even a self-defense technique, doing this will not help you with staying alive!! All it does is make you think about "oh no, I could get murdered" every time you leave the house. This is NOT a healthy mindset!

It's like a strange and widespread kind of anxiety, and the worst part is, it has you convinced it's necessary, and you can't get rid of it unless you make an active effort to do things despite being scared. First you have to convince yourself that you *won't* get murdered by your date if you don't share your location, and that's the hardest part. And yeah lol, having to do things alone helps you with this tremendously, because you realize that you've just taken the subway at night alone and survived. But if you're never forced to do things alone, you get stuck in this weird fear spiral, and whenever you see a stranger, you end up thinking about how they could murder you.

28 notes · View notes

diminuel · 2 months ago

Note

Thoughts on Crocodile formerly being one of Whitebeard's children (either biological or adopted). I know the current rule is no women other than nurses, but it doesn't look like that was always the rule. We know of two women who were non-nurse Whitebeards in the past (Whitey Bay and Kouzuki Toki) so that wasn't always the rule. What if that rule was put into place because of what happened with Crocodile?

Then there's the question of what happened with Crocodile. We know that the one unforgivable offense is attacking (killing) a brother, but what if Crocodile had done so in legitimate self defense? Does Whitebeard do any vetting of those he names his sons?

Ah, you know I didn't realize that Whitey Bay was a member of the WB pirates, I just thought she was a captain that followed him as all Emperors seem to have.

Just for personal reasons I would say that if Crocodile was one of WB's kids then he would have been kicked off the ship at a very young age (before the Oden joined, before Blackbeard joined) because I feel the complete lack of reaction the WB pirates have to Crocodile makes it feel that there's absolutely no story there. Which might of course not be true.

But I don't know why he would have been kicked off the ship if being a girl wasn't the problem. It might just have been that WB needs his kids to follow his orders, especially his own biological child, and Crocodile just wouldn't. He would always want to prove himself, fight fights that were way above his league, potentially endangering people who would have to come save him. Maybe even getting someone killed this way? The "carelessness" and "selfishness" Crocodile exhibited along with his constantly questioning WB's orders might be enough for WB to leave him behind. As a Captain he has to make choices for the well being of his entire crew.

And maybe WB wrongly assumes that the reason Crocodile was like this is because he was a girl, trying to prove herself in a crew of men (and maybe there's some truth in that). Whitey Bay seems to have already been an adult 30 odd years ago (how old is this woman...?) who had already proven her worth and could fend off patronizing comments with a sharp tongue and weapon of choice. But Crocodile was a child/ teen and couldn't.

(It is rather telling that one of the first things Crocodile did when he became a Warlord was go after WB. Like a "see how poweful I am now" move. And of course the impulsiveness and misjudgment of his powers cost him dearly. Maybe he partially also expected that WB's sentimentality over seeing what his child had achieved could still lead to a defeat but at least an acknowledgment of his strength instead of the soul crushing potential near death experience it was. WB had no mercy. Maybe WB didn't even know who he was and Crocodile's pride would not let him ask "why don't you recognize your own child? did you even look at me before you destroyed me?")

#mimididi #Diminuel replies #One Piece

36 notes · View notes

yourdeluluescapist · 3 months ago

Text

REDEYE | BANGCHAN X Fem!Reader.

A/N: So... I learned I'm god awful at scheduling, and the whiteboard I got didn't help at all. I'm definitely gonna try to keep up the 3 day thing, since the human alarm clock I'm related too would want it. This is like a months work i guess? I might continue this...

✧ “Control your breathing, clear your mind, and switch off the safety. Aim with not only intent to harm but also intent to kill. This is how someone as strong, as beautiful, and as ravishing as yourself protects themselves. Especially from all the filthy men who’d dare try to touch my beloved. Mhm, that’s how, just like that. Good girl.”

Warnings: Mafia, fingering, light murder, guns.

WC: 2111

---

Satin black, hugs the waist, and plays into your hourglass figure. Channie had picked the perfect dress for you. It screamed class and authority, displaying the strong woman you were. Followed with a pair of black heels and an expensive chained purse made with gold. Your black ensemble was there and thriving because of the woman who wore it. And Chan knew you were the only one for it, the only woman who could make something so simple, so plain and empty. Only accentuate your aura more and more until it spreads like pheromones.

You stared at this outfit that was laid out for you on your bed by the maids, thinking about when's the last time you’d laid out an outfit for yourself. The lavish life he’d provided you was amazing. But it always felt weird. With all this fortune, came the right of not having to do most things. Since others just did it for you. It felt as if it was false solace. Business was the only thing keeping you busy, and when it wasn't you were with chan, cuddling with chan, or loving chan.

You basically revolve around chan nowadays, and thanks to him. This life of riches and sovereignty was real even if it was built with blood illegality. You were already accustomed to that life, and he simply gave it to you the way you knew normal.

But now, business has been on its uptake, more clients willing to deepen your pockets to reduce the earth’s population and more drugs that need moving. Meaning it was a mafia's heyday for profits.

Though, with the added work and illicit moving, that meant an advent of increased danger arose. The only important part being,

It’s become sooo dangerous, even for you pretty women. Had to get their hands dirty in the case of “self defense.”

Chan, obviously aware of that fact, decided that it’s high time for you to learn to shoot a gun. With him as your teacher, and you being a quick learner. The method of concept, method, and exposure would make this quick and easy.

After you got dressed in this empowering outfit, you stood in front of the mirror in quiet admiration, though the outfit was basic. It had class to it, a certain chique if you will. You liked the look even though it isn’t as flashy as what you're normally accustomed to.

Distracting you from yourself, You felt a vibration from your phone in your purse that hangs near your side, reaching for it and checking who had texted you.

It was Chan.

Chan|Y/N

Amor, did you wear the dress I sent for you?

Mhm, it’s wonderful. Hugs my body perfectly, my love.

Perfect. Remember, it’s a special day today.

Yes, yes I’m aware mio. It’s only your fifth time reminding me.

Don’t get smart with me.

Oh I can get as smart as I want too channie, no gun of yours could scare me, you wouldn’t hurt me even if I begged you too.

Whatever.. See you in five, you know where.

Mhm. I’ll be there. Love you.

Uhuh.

Say it back, Chan.

Love you too, bitch..

That’s better, I’m overjoyed you came around.

There’s a possibility of pigs flying before he’d understand that he can’t threaten you, you made it clear that the same threats to those little grunts of his doesn’t make you get down and suck his dick till he’s satisfied. You could do that if you wanted, but it all fell on you, and it always will.

You had to be in the basement's firing range in 5 minutes. You wondered what his sadistic method would be, since he always. For some reason, had a kink for it.

_ _ _

The sounds of bullet casings dropping to the floor and metal colliding with the steel targets echoed around the range, a sound you’ve grown used to being there for Chan when he decided to practice his shots. Chan had always been a good shot, but business called for him to improve more and more. Until it was perfect.

You notice Chan leaning on a wall, his bodyguards not too far from him. It looked like he was waiting for you in the most sour way possible. Noticing that, you decided to make your way over to him to see if he was ready, and to figure out what his sour expression was for.

“Channie.” You cockily dragged your words.

“Oh hey baby, you're early.” His sour expression seemed to fade away as he stopped leaning on the wall and stood upright.

You threw yourself into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his back and resting your face on his chest, “Did you miss me, my love?” You asked in a muffled, yet gentle tone, comfortable as you melted into your man’s arms.

“You know I did.” He wrapped an arm around your waist and the other clasped your head that’s laying on his chest.

He gently kisses the top of your head, getting a whiff of your fragrance and letting a satisfied groan, “You smell great, sweetheart.” He mentioned.

“Mhm, I appreciate the verbal reviews.” You let out a slight snicker.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“Unfortunately.. I thought I wouldn’t have to since I was but a pretty woman that’s spoiled rotten. Not shooting people for protection, we have bodyguards for all that bullshit!” You whined, distasteful with the fact you had to learn something that should’ve stayed unimaginable.

“It has to happen, my love. Shit’s getting dangerous now, bullets are flying everywhere like the air we breathe. I’d be destroyed if I had to get the news that you caught one.” He wept, his grip tightening around your waist in what seemed to be an expression of his worry.

“Chan it’s okay, I get your point.” You let out an awkward, yet worrisome laugh. Tightening your grip in response since you knew it affected him.

“I just need to at least know my baby is able to defend herself in case of a situation like that. Meaning, I wanna be the one to teach you.” He explained to you in a somber tone.

His unexpected sweet and worrisome tone caught you off guard, you weren’t ready to see him get all mushy and fragile like that. Deep down, you knew he noticed you were joking, but he couldn’t hide how much he cared for you, bringing out a warm smile out of your muffled face.

You pulled your head off of his chest, your arms still locked around him and said, “Then, would you like to teach me so we can keep it to others being the bullet sponges?” You release one of your arms from his back, lifting your hand up to his and resting it on his cheek.

“Yeah right, sorry.” He uses his hand to gently take your hand from his face. Let's head over to the range.” He consented.

“Okay, my love.” You unhook him from your clutches, taking a couple steps back to release yourself from his embrace and give him space.

You grabbed his unattended hand and began to walk and guide him over to the range.

After you made it to your section of the range, Chan handed you a gun embroidered in silver. Your Initials, Y/N engraved on the entire barrel of the gun.

“Oh shit, is this for me?” You ask in a slight stoic tone, not completely since your moral compass decided to make yet another terrible entrance and is now making you question. If you should be happy for a gun or not. It didn't matter, he was never fun anyway.

“Mhm, it was made personally for you. If you hafta defend yourself, You oughta be sexy and stylish.

“This is why I love you.” You gently smiled

“I love you too, baby. But now I need you to focus,” His voice went low, stern, and most definitely assertive. You could already tell that he was about to shoot orders at you and you just had to try your best to follow.”

“First, Plant your feet firmly on the ground and get a good grip on the gun.”

You assumed a strong stance and gripped your gun with vigor.

“Next, line your sights with the target until it’s a clear shot.”

You line the sights with the target in front of you, until you had a clear shot.

“Now, rest your index finger just shy of the trigger and brace your hands..”

You rest your index finger mere inches away from the trigger, and you braced your hands for whatever came next.

“Lastly, curl the trigger and let it fly.”

You curled the trigger. A loud bang and a harsh, violent force slamming into your hands following after.

“Holy fuck, that was loud. And my hands are tingling like all hell now.” You put down the gun and turn to Chan while trying to catch your breath, winded from the force.

“Forget all that, you hit him straight on the money!” Chan exclaimed, proud of you for hitting the target.

“Him? What do you mean, him?” You shoot a suspicious eyebrow to him, confused now realizing you never paid attention to what the target was.

“Oh baby look! You got a headshot on him.” He started to lean on your shoulder and pointed towards the target you had hit.

You turned your head to where he’d been pointing, to notice it wasn't a normal target, it was a man with a bag over his head. Completely tied up from head to toe with his mouth gagged with a rag. At least, that was before he was lying on the floor with a pool of blood streaming from the hole in his head because of the bullet.

“Oh my god, Chan…. That was maybe the most twisted idea you’ve ever had.” You gasped, a bit uncomfortable by the methods.

“Sorry, I just had to prepare you for how it is.” He apologized in a somber manner, not regretful of his actions.

“It’s okay, I get it. Just a little off the grid is.” You mellow with him, understanding that sometimes normal isn't the best option.

“Okay, but for something more on the grid. I planned to reward you for doing so well.” He said, a smirk forming on his face.

“Oh? And how would you th-”

He had cut you off by pinning you to the nearest wall and immediately started to kiss your neck, the kisses getting deeper and rougher the more he continued his barrage.

He pauses his lovely attack on you for a brief moment to say, “Since you pulled that trigger so well, I wanted to treat you like a trigger.” He hints in a seductive tone, going back to kissing your neck and playing a moving hand on your thigh.

Wasting no time, that hand never strayed from its course, pulling up the hem of your dress and beginning to caress in between your legs.

You could tell where this hand's goal was, and you werent gonna even try to stop its advances, since its goal was already drooling for it.

“Just do it, Chan, treat me like a barrel.” You submitted to him, happy with whatever he’d do to please you.

Hearing that, he stopped teasing you and immediately went to your vagina, rubbing two fingers across your labia and eventually inserting those same two inside you.

“Don't stop, Chan.” You panted relentlessly, since he never stopped kissing your neck and he only added more to the load.

He began to kiss your neck harder, and curl his fingers that were inside you. He was going like he was trying to set a record making you cum. And with the way those curls got faster, and your arms wrapping around him. He was definitely setting something new.

He only got more passionate the louder you got. He didn’t care if the guards could see or hear them, it really only turned him on more. He knew that this was his palace and he could please you whenever, and wherever the fuck he wanted.

But not after too long, he went as hard as possible, and his reward. Coated the entirety of his hand.

“Are you proud of yourself, Channie?” You said, absolutely blown out from his actions.

“Not really, I was simply pleasing what’s mine.” He said in a cocky tone.

“Mhm..” You leaned in towards his face and stole a kiss from his lips.

You always loved how he’d do things, it’s just something sweet, then something pleasurable. It was great being his.

#bangchan x reader #bangchan x female reader #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x you #bangchan skz #bangchan smut #bang chan #bangchan fanfic #chan smut #skz #skz smut #fanfic #fanfiction #smut

53 notes · View notes

conanssummerchild · 4 months ago

Text

writing a fic abt rick having an ed bcs why would i recover when i can just project all my issues onto fictional old men in cartoons and pretend everythings better now ‼️

tw eating disorder, minor self harm and vomit near the end

Morty stopped in the open doorway of the garage, watching Rick who was sat scribbling down some kind of invention idea, or equation, or whatever it was he did when Morty wasn't around, for all Morty knew he might well be writing fanfiction.

An involuntary smile pulled at his lips at the idea of his almost 70 year old genius grandfather spending his free time writing silly little stories at his work bench. What would he even write? Ball Fondlers fanfic? Maybe he wrote about his stoic bird friend, Rick had always been touchy with him and Rick wasn't touchy with anyone.

When Morty focused back on Rick he wasn't writing anymore, the slightly crumpled piece of paper shoved to the side as he fiddled with what looked like a small metal box with a bunch of brightly coloured wires poking out of the sides. A small spark shot out of one of the wires Rick was holding and he cursed loudly, shaking his hand.

"Fuck, Morty, are you just gonna– gonna stand there, or are you gonna pass me the fucking, uh– the thing."

Rick waved his hand in the general direction of the shelf nearest to Morty, but there were so many assorted trinkets on the shelves, Morty had no idea if Rick wanted a wrench, or a hammer, or one of his laser guns, maybe the box was like a new battery for them?

"W-what thing, Rick?"

"The thing, Morty! The fucking– the uh, destornillador."

"What? Rick, I don't know what that means. W-w-what is that?"

"Jeez, Morty, what are they teaching you at that crap school you love so much?" Rick scowled, tossing the box to the side and getting up to grab the screwdriver himself.

"I havent been to school in like a month, Rick!" Morty exclaimed. "And even then I only got to stay for like an hour before you were dragging me out again!"

"Whatever." Rick said with a burp, "School's dumb, Morty. I'll teach you Spanish myself. B-but, uh, not now."

He turned back to his box, done with the conversation, but Morty stayed hovering in the room, remembering what he had come for in the first place.

"Okay, um, w-w-well lunch is ready."

"I'm busy."

Morty sighed, having expected that answer already. "When's the last time you ate, Rick? Or slept? Or... showered?" Morty said, wrinkling his nose a little.

Rick ignored him, pulling at a blue wire.

"Rick!" Morty frowned.

"What, Morty? J-jesus christ, what the fuck do you want?"

"I want you to have lunch with the family."

"And I said no, so screw off."

"Rick, come on, it would make mom so happy."

Rick glared at him, not bothering with an answer.

"...Wouldn't y-you do it for your original Beth if you could?" Morty tried.

Rick slammed the box on the table, causing the thin metallic shell to crack, sparks flying from it, the sudden noise making Morty jump.

"The fuck did you just say?" Rick snarled.

"S-s-sorry!" Morty squeaked. "I didn't m-mean– mean it in a bad way!"

"Get the fuck out." Rick said icily, eyes blazing.

Morty stumbled out of the room, shutting the door behind him to the sound of something crashing. Probably Rick throwing the damaged box across the room.

Morty winced. In his defense he was worried about Rick, and sometimes, depending on his mood, something like that would've gotten Rick to cave, clearly he wasn't feeling so sentimental today, more annoyed and angry.

"What was that about?"

Morty startled a little and turned to see Summer looking at her phone behind him.

"Just, y'know, Rick being... Rick."

"Mhm, pro tip, don't bring up his dead daughter to try and blackmail him into something he hates." Summer drawled. "You can only do that if he's already half convinced, or if he's feeling especially depressed sometimes.

"Summer! That's– that's messed up!"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah, so only you can manipulate grandpa Rick?" Summer scoffed. "God forbid women do anything." She said sarcastically and turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Morty fidgeted with his hands. "Can you... help me? To get him to have lunch w-with us? Please?"

"Yes, but not now. He's already upset so if we double down on trying to get him to eat he's only gonna clam up."

Morty nodded. "I know that– but how do you? You don't spend as much time with Rick as I do."

"Because he's like mom. Who do you think got her to stop drinking before parent-teacher conferences at school?"

"Wow. That's pretty fucked up that you had to do that, though, y'know, Summer."

"Yeah, well, we're the Smiths, Morty. Is anyone in this house not disordered?"

Morty winced at the blunt statement, Rick really was rubbing off on her. But it was kind of true.

"Guess it runs in the family." He muttered

"Guess it does."

---

Morty hadn't been planning on seeing Rick again until the next day. He knew that when Rick got upset he needed his space. Morty didn't quite get it because when he was upset all he wanted was for someone to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but Rick wasn't like him he supposed.

If he was being honest it made him nervous to leave Rick alone in those bad headspaces he got into. Rick was volatile and unpredictable and a borderline danger to himself and often others. He'd walked in on a couple... compromising situations where Rick had had to explain away why he was passed out in his chair or why there was blood on his hands and his lab coat despite being the only person in the room.

Morty pretended to believe him when he said he had been doing a messy dissection experiment or that "This isn't blood, this is Balorkian dust I mixed with red Squanchenite fluid from Planet Squanch, Morty." But truthfully those moments haunted him.

However, he didn't want to invade Rick's space, so he let him be and tried to eat and sleep until Rick emerged like nothing had happened, even though Morty knew what habits of his went on behind those closed doors.

Of course Morty's patience had it's limits, like when two hours after he had left Rick in the garage, angry, there was the sound of something smashing, closely followed by an unmistakable sound that Morty had grown too familiar with since Rick had moved in. The sound of a body thudding to the ground.

He was up from the sofa in a flash, at the garage door before Summer could even put down her phone, flinging it open.

He felt like he couldn't breathe, but the only sight that greeted him was a smashed bottle and rick lying on the floor next to it, not looking any more dead than usual, looking up at Morty blearily, cracking a smile.

"Oh, hi Morty. H-hey buddy." He slurred, clearly drunk out of his mind.

"Jesus fucking christ, Rick." Morty said weakly.

"What happened?" Summer breathed, now standing at his side.

"He's just drunk." Morty muttered, wrinkling his nose at the overpowering smell that he hadn't registered before between his state of panic and shallow breathing.

Summer ventured into the garage, picking up an empty bottle and sniffing it. "God, grandpa Rick, what the hell are you drinking in here, fucking rubbing alcohol?"

"Sum-Sum! 'M just having some– some fun drinks. Fun drinks just a lil' bit. Besides I only ever drank rub-rubbin' alcohol once, n' it was– tasted like shit."

"What? I was being sarcastic, why would you drink that?"

"Because I was sad... was sad 'nd lonely after B-b-blood Ridge, couldn't find anythin' else. But 'm not s-sad now."

"What's Blood Ridge?" Summer frowned, "Actually it doesn't matter right now, you need to sober up."

"Get him some water," Morty interjected. "I'll clean up the glass. I also know where he keeps all his hangover serums and stuff, but he told me not to let you into any of his drug stashes."

"Fair enough." Summer shrugged, leaving to get Rick some much needed water.

While she was gone, Morty felt along the wall until he found the small hidden panel under Rick's desk. He fished out the light blue vial of fluid for hangovers, the red one he'd forced Rick to make that would sober him up and a green one that basically equivalated to getting your stomach pumped if you took it, just in case he'd taken more than just alcohol.

He shut the panel securely and placed the three coloured vials on Rick's work bench, grabbing a purple tube-like gadget from a shelf. He pressed a button on the back of it and typed in "Broken Glass" on a small hologram keyboard that emerged, then pressed that first button again. A blue ray shot out, scanning the garage, and the pieces of smashed bottle disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Morty looked over at Rick, who was still lying on the floor, but now he was tracing his fingers along a crack in the cold ground, his expression so solemn he almost looked sober.

"Rick?" Morty asked hesitantly.

"I miss her." He said flatly. "I miss her s-so much."

His words were still a little slurred but his tone had lost all the previous levity.

"I tried to save her, Morty, I t-t-tried, but I couldn't bring her back. And no one could ever replace her." A rough sob escaped his throat. Morty felt frozen. "I'm a crappy fuckin'– piece of shit father but I didn't want to be. I was gonna fuckin' give– give up everything for them, and I would've been happy. I would've been so happy as long as I had them, but he fuckin' took that from me! I nnever even got a chance."

Rick was crying, he was crying so hard that his tears stained the concrete dark grey and snot ran down his face sideways. He was shaking like a leaf and gasping for air.

Morty crouched down next to him, fists clenching and unclenching, unsure if he should hug Rick, or if that would make it worse. What else could he do?

"Oh– oh shit, Rick, I–"

"My little girl, my baby." Rick continued between sobs. "She meant everything to me. S-so yeah, I would be better f-for her if I could, but she's gone. There's no point."

Rick's sudden fit of violent sobs was calming down, replaced by a look that Morty could only describe as pure hoplessness and defeat washing over his features.

"'S no point in anything."

Shit, this was bad. Rick didn't admit defeat, and he certainly didn't talk so openly about his feelings like this.

"Aw jeez, Rick, come on don't– don't– don't say that. we killed Rick Prime, remember?" Morty said, wringing his hands anxiously.

"Yeah, I remember." Rick said, tone now devoid of emotion. "I remember killin' him with my bare hands, watchin' the life drain out of his eyes as his blood dripped down my fists. And I remember nothing changing. W-w-what d'ya do when you achieve your life long goal and nothin's better? It didn't bring them back, it didn't– didn't give me closure or give me a reason to live. I still can't sleep, petrified he's in the fucking house, comin' for my new family, that he'll kill all of you to teach me that t-that's what happens when I-I care about people."

Rick wiped his face with his lab coat sleeve, rubbing away the snot, drool and dried tears while Morty just kneeled next to him, frozen and unsure what to say.

"Rick..." he started but then Summer stepped through the doorway and Rick's demeanour instantly changed.

"Summerfest!" he called out and Morty watched, a little shocked, as Rick's whole face changed in the blink of an eye, going back to the cheerful, goofy expression he'd been wearing when he and Summer first came in. It didn't look artificial to Morty at all, even now that he knew it was. How could Rick just switch it on and off just like that?

"I brought water and coffee." Was all Summer said, placing two mugs on the workbench. "And a cereal bar."

The second statement sounded a little more unsure and Morty could've sworn he saw Rick's jaw clench for a second.

"Gimmie coffee." Rick said, making grabby hands, still lying on the floor.

"Water first." Summer replied, handing him the larger of the two mugs.

Rick pouted a little but as soon as the mug was in his hands he drank thirstily, finishing the whole thing in one go.

"You want more?" Summer asked, taking the mug, but he just shook his head quietly.

"Okay," Morty cleared his throat when his voice came out a little shaky. "drink this."

He handed Rick the red 'get sober' vial and Rick chugged it obediently, making a face. "Tastes like– like shit." He offered.

While he seemed a little calmer after the water and serum, his eyes were still unfocused and his voice sounded thick, like his tongue didn't fit in his mouth properly, hints of his accent were slipping through too.

"Did you- are you on drugs r-right now?" Morty asked, reaching for the green vial of serum.

"Maybe." Rick mumbled. His eyelids were starting to droop a little and he curled up more comfortably on the floor.

"Hey, Rick, don't go to sleep okay? What did you take?" Summer asked, crouching down next to him, shaking him a little. He groaned. "Come on, we just have to make sure you're not overdosing and then you can sleep. Maybe not on the floor."

"'M not overdosing." Rick grumbled.

"What did you take?"

"I dunno. Just some random alien drugs I found i-in my pocket." He said dismissively with a burp. "Actually one of 'em was probably adderall. Look at me bein' all responsible an-and takin' my meds n' shit."

He of course immediately showed his 'responsibilty' by gagging and then throwing up on the floor.

Morty winced, reaching for the purple device again while Summer tried to coax him into drinking the green liquid, frowning deeply.

Finally Rick gave in, sipping from the small vial, and almost instantly his eyes began to clear up a little bit.

"Why'd I make these work so well?" He groaned. Then, "My head is killing me, I want coffee."

Summer passed him the second mug and he gestured toward the hangover serum, which Morty promptly passed to him and Rick poured it in his coffee.

He gulped down half the coffee and sighed, wiping his mouth with his already rather dirty sleeve. "Fuck, that's better."

He downed the rest of it and placed the mug on the ground, getting to his feet shakily. He swayed and nearly fell, leaning onto the wall to steady himself as the dizzy spell passed, and then stretched, his back cracking loudly.

He took a few wobbly steps towards the door but Summer blocked the way.

"Fuck– fuck off Summer I gotta– I'm gonna go take a nap."

"Could you maybe eat something first?" She asked firmly, holding up the cereal bar.

"No."

Rick tried to sidestep her but she blocked the way again.

"Summer, don't fucking piss me off right now, I'm serious."

She stood her ground. "Just eat the cereal bar, grandpa Rick. Please."

"Summer, for fuck's sake, I said no!"

"Grandpa," She sighed, the arm holding the bar dropping defeatedly back down to her side. "Do you have an eating disorder?"

The garage was deathly quiet for a second.

"Wha-What?! I'm not a teenage girl in a f-f-f– goddamn netflix drama, Summer." Rick snarled. "What the fuck kinda question is that?"

He gestured wildly, taking another step forwards, which quickly seemed to be the wrong option as a sudden wave of dizziness hit him hard, making him almost loose his balance. He blindly tried to grab onto the back of his chair somewhere behind him, but missed and fell on his ass.

"Rick!" Morty and Summer both rushed to his side, Morty's eyes beginning to well up a little from all the stress of the day.

"I'm fine, don't– don't fucking touch me." He said, shaking Summer's hand off his shoulder, which caused another wave of nausea to hit.

"Please eat this." Summer said nervously, voice shaking as she pushed the cereal bar into his left hand, his right one gripping at his hair.

"Summer, I promise you if I eat that shit right now I'm gonna throw the fuck up."

"Please?" Morty pouted, eyes big and teary.

All it took was one look at him, and with only a brief moment of hesitation Rick snatched the cereal bar from Summer, muttering angrily under his breath.

Morty only caught "Me cago en la puta." and "Maldito cabrón." which he more or less understood, more familiar with swear words than any other words in the Spanish language.

Rick peeled away the wrapper slowly with unsteady hands and took a small bite.

Morty and Summer watched in silence, not wanting to discourage him by saying the wrong thing—which with Rick could be anything—as Rick uncomfortably ate the cereal bar.

"There you fucking go." He said weakly, Throwing the now empty wrapper at Summer, but missing as it was too light to travel more than a couple centimetres, landing somewhere by his feet.

"Thank you." Summer almost whispered.

They sat in silence for a while, Morty sniffling and rubbing at his eyes and Summer shuffling a bit closer to him for both of their comfort.

Rick was sitting with his knees losely bent and his head braced in his hands, trying to overcome another hit of nausea.

He wouldn't exactly say he tried super hard to keep the cereal bar down, but it wasn't deliberate when he vomited it down the front of his shirt.

"Oh! Aw jeez..." Morty winced.

"I did warn you."

"In our defense, you had every reason to be lying to us."

"Fuck you, Summer." It sounded weak even to his own ears.

She sighed softly.

"Morty, get his shirt off. Do you have pijamas or do you sleep in jeans and a lab coat?"

"Jeans an-and a lab coat."

"...I was joking, but okay." Summer said, flipping the switch that opened Rick's garage closet and grabbing one of his sets of identical outfits.

Rick squirmed, making noises of complaint as Morty tried to take off his current shirt.

"Rick– stay still, you have vomit on your clothes."

"I'm not fucking two years old, Morty." He scowled. "I can change by myself."

Rick tried to sit up but wobbled and then slumped back against the wall, needing more time to recover. Morty reached for his shirt again and this time Rick let him pull it carefully up over his head without resisting. Morty took the new set of clothes from where Summer had left them on the floor next to him.

Summer wasn't looking but Morty still shielded Rick's body from sight with his own, pointedly not mentioning the raised scars and jagged, angry, red cuts littering his arms which he had already suspected would be there.

Rick shifted uncomfortably, seeming relieved when Morty didn't want to talk about it.

"Okay." Morty said, helping Rick pull on his clean lab coat too.

"I'm going to bed." Rick grumbled, not waiting for him to continue, just getting up slowly.

He felt weak and shaky and his brittle old bones weren't exactly helping out. Despite his thousands of cybernetic implants he was still human, much to his dismay, and he couldn't treat his body as badly as he did when he was 30. Not that that ever seemed to stop him, managing to still maintain the same shitty habits he'd had for years at the ripe age of 67.

He stumbled through the dining room, Morty and Summer trailing after him, not discouraged by the glare he sent their way.

As soon as he reached his room, he slumped onto his bed with a groan.

"R-rick?"

"Fuck off, Morty." He snapped into his pillow, a little muffled by it.

Morty hesitated, exchanging a glance with Summer, who shrugged.

"...Ookay, Rick. Uh, see– see you at dinner, today? maybe?'

"Don't count on it."

Summer frowned, Starting to say something, but Rick interrupted, "I'm gonna apply my room's Lock Protocols in ten seconds, so i-if you're still in here, I'm not letting you out until I'm done sleeping. A-a-and if you're standing in the doorway, you're gonna get fucking squashed in the doors."

"Whatever, Rick, fuck you too." Summer huffed, pulling Morty out of the doorway with her.

"Room, activate Sensory Protocol 2. And t-tell Summer to go fuck herself."

"Sensory Protocol 2 activated." Came the mechanical voice and a heavy metal door snapped shut. "Go fuck yourself, Summer."

Summer scoffed. "Dick." Followed by a sigh. "What are we gonna do?"

"I-I don't know." Morty admitted. "There's not much we can do if Rick won't accept help. And he won't."

"So what? We just give up on him?" Summer asked accusingly, putting her hands on her hips.

"No, Summer, J-jeez. I just– We're gonna have to get creative."

"Fuck."

---

thats it thats the end i didnt know how tf to end this but my goal wasnt to rewrite like the bible idfk it was just to put rick through shit and put completely unfair expectations on summer and mortys shoulders so that they could ALL suffer in this fic !! :3 also this is so mf long i sincerely apologise if u read all that

#i feel like all the few rnm fics ive written are set in the garage im sorry 😭#thats where rick mostly is when hes not out in other dimensions tho ig #also even tho my fics r all rick centric i cant not have my boy morty in them #i just love him too much #also obligatory birdrick mention in the start bcs theyve been on my mind #also in regards to is anyone in this house not disordered let my drop my smith sanchez family disorder hcs >:)#okayyy #so starting off strong with beth: an alcoholic like her father probably anxiety stemming from her abandonment issues and possibly depressio #next up my boy morty: anxiety also and most likely ptsd from all the shit hes experienced ik a lot of ppl hc him as autistic but i dont #possibly adhd dyslexia or dyscalculia tho or all of the above idk #oookay next up jerry: i really spend incredibly little time thinking about jerry so idk im open to hearing hcs abt him tho #wait back to beth: maybe also ocd or smth like that #okay now summer: my girl has a lot of substance abuse issues as we see and fomo but idk if anything else maybe social anxiety or smth #aaand its rick time: alcohol and drug abuse definitely ptsd for sure depression and autism possibly adhd or bpd or both #in this fic he has an ed also so that #paranoia too #and thats it i think #also going back to the topic ofautism tho #i just cannot see it with morty at all like he shows no symptoms?? i dont see them at least idk i could be wrong #i honestly see it more with beth or summer maybe #but idk #also i almost never put the accents when i write in spanish lol but i did so #vey professional of me ik #gotta let rick say cabron properly #alex says shit #rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #summer smith #rick and morty fanfiction

29 notes · View notes

genyukandojo · 11 months ago

Text

Unlocking the Power Within: Exploring Martial Arts in NYC for Adults and Beyond

In the bustling metropolis of New York City, where the daily grind can be both physically and mentally demanding, the quest for self-improvement and holistic well-being has led many adults to explore the transformative world of martial arts. Beyond the stereotypical image of martial arts as mere physical combat, practitioners in NYC are discovering that these ancient disciplines offer a unique blend of physical fitness, mental resilience, and spiritual growth. This article delves into the diverse martial arts landscape in NYC, uncovering the hidden gems that empower individuals to unlock their inner potential.

The Multifaceted World of Martial Arts:

Martial arts encompass a broad spectrum of disciplines, each with its own philosophy, techniques, and benefits. From the striking artistry of Karate and Taekwondo to the fluidity of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and the internal focus of Tai Chi, NYC offers a myriad of options for adults seeking to explore the world of martial arts. Whether one is drawn to the explosive power of Muay Thai or the meditative movements of Kung Fu, there is a martial art suited to every individual's interests and fitness levels.

Physical Fitness and Health Benefits:

One of the primary draws of martial arts for adults in NYC is the promise of improved physical fitness. Training in martial arts provides a full-body workout that enhances cardiovascular health, flexibility, strength, and endurance. Engaging in high-intensity activities like kickboxing or Krav Maga not only burns calories but also builds lean muscle mass, contributing to a sculpted and resilient physique. For those seeking a low-impact option, disciplines like Tai Chi promote balance, coordination, and joint flexibility.

Beyond the physical benefits, martial arts have been shown to reduce stress, anxiety, and depression. The rhythmic and controlled movements, coupled with focused breathing, create a mindful experience that fosters mental well-being. In a city where stress is a constant companion, the holistic approach of martial arts becomes a valuable tool for individuals to navigate the challenges of daily life.

Embracing Discipline and Self-Control:

Martial arts instill a sense of discipline and self-control that extends beyond the training mat. In NYC, where the fast-paced lifestyle can lead to impulsivity and chaos, martial arts provide a structured environment for individuals to cultivate patience, resilience, and emotional intelligence. The practice of repetition and mastery inherent in martial arts hones perseverance, teaching practitioners to overcome setbacks and push through mental barriers.

The Journey of Self-Discovery:

Beyond the physical and mental aspects, martial arts in NYC offer a unique avenue for self-discovery and personal growth. Many disciplines emphasize the importance of self-awareness, encouraging practitioners to explore their inner strengths and weaknesses. Through the challenges presented in training, individuals learn to confront and overcome their fears, building a profound sense of self-confidence that extends into various facets of life.

Community and Camaraderie:

Participating in martial arts in NYC goes beyond the individual journey; it is an opportunity to join a community of like-minded individuals pursuing similar goals. The camaraderie formed within martial arts schools creates a supportive network that extends beyond the training sessions. The diverse community in NYC ensures that practitioners are exposed to different perspectives, fostering a sense of unity and mutual respect.

Accessible Martial Arts in NYC:

Several martial arts schools and dojos in NYC cater specifically to adults, offering flexible schedules to accommodate the demands of busy lifestyles. From traditional dojos in Brooklyn to modern studios in Manhattan, the options are diverse and cater to practitioners of all skill levels. Many schools provide introductory classes, allowing newcomers to experience the benefits of martial arts before committing to a particular discipline.

Conclusion:

Unlocking the power within through martial arts in NYC is a journey that transcends physical fitness; it is a holistic exploration of mind, body, and spirit. In a city where the pursuit of success often takes precedence, martial arts offer a sanctuary for self-discovery, discipline, and community. As adults in NYC seek avenues for personal growth and well-being, the world of martial arts stands as a beacon, inviting them to embark on a transformative journey that goes far beyond the training mat.

#women's self defense class nyc #best self defense classes nyc #martial arts school in rego park #aikido classes nyc #martial arts nyc #martial arts for adults beginners near me #martial arts nyc adults #adult martial arts near me

0 notes

fatmaclover · 8 months ago

Text

do you think mac and charlie have ever been sat together getting high looking at the stars or just chilling together or whatever. do you think mac always wants to talk about his queer identity. hes always so desperate to be seen, to be heard, to be understood in his own way.

i think charlie would be hesitant. every time mac wants to talk about how he feels in relation to his identity, charlies always shutting it down. "no, dude, dont press that gay shit on me"

but like. mac wears charlie down eventually. keeps insisting on wanting to speak about it, to use charlie as a wall to bounce feelings and thoughts off of. to find the correct words or mediums or images to understand himself better. to have his friends, his family, those he loves, to understand him better.

not to mention his best friend.

so charlie relents. "fine, fine, whatever. lets just get it over with"

and its a long talk. charlie listens for hours as mac explains his struggles with being a man, his self image, his relationship towards women, womanhood, femininity, masculinity, how confusing it all is. how weird it is to figure out what balance he is of what, how he relates to it all. how its such a struggle to just.... find his place.

and charlies really listening here- and theres some really potent stuff. like, yeah, all this stuff is confusing. whys mac bringing it up like its not supposed to be? is it not supposed to be confusing? are you not supposed to feel utterly baffled when youve been pushed to just sit down and think about why youre attracted to what. why you feel certain ways about certain things. why youre comforted by what youre comforted by. why youre made uncomfortable by so much normal stuff.

"isnt... everyone confused by stuff like that?" charlie asks, taking another huff of whatever near-lethal substance the two had gotten their hands on.

"are you?" mac returns.

"well- of course i am. its all so weird."

and theres a long pause between them. they both take a moment to get a couple more huffs in, and mac finally breaks the silence.

"i was always under the impression that people who werent gay never really thought about it."

"well- im not gay, and ive thought about it." of course charlies defensive. this is really vulnerable and sensitive stuff.

"well- sure. you might not be gay, but- i mean- the crossdressing thing man. cmon."

"thats not weird!" charlies hackles are immediately raised. "ive told you- i- i had a single mother, and-"

mac grabs charlies shoulders, looking into the brown eyes in front of him.

"im not saying its weird. i dont think its weird, charlie."

its another long moment of silence. charlie doesnt know how to respond, the world felt like it was crumbling a little.

too high for this.

"i- i guess-" macs voice was like a knife, the way it cut through the nightly city noise. "i just want you to know, that i think its okay, if its complicated for you, too. and that im not gonna be stupid and shame you for it being complicated."

another beat of silence, only broken by a car alarm going off in the far distance.

"i-... yeah. okay man, sure." charlie responds, simply relaxing into macs hold.

its a pretty quiet night, from then on, but it isnt like much needs to be said.

charlie can at least feel a little bit safer in her best friends arms.

#not putting this in the tags #im a widdol scawed #also no i dont think this would happen #not realistically. but its a nice thought to have #iasip spoilies #4 wub <3

32 notes · View notes

bluejaysandblackbats · 7 months ago

Text

Oracle of Jersey

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Birds of Prey (Comics)

Summary: Barbara Gordon runs a podcast that results in six teenagers looking over a dead body.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Barbara Gordon, Dinah Lance, Renee Montoya, Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe, Lori Zechlin, Wendy White, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake, Ted Kord, Jean-Paul Valley, Dick Grayson, Helena Bertinelli, Zinda Blake

Relationship(s): TBA

Additional Tags: Mentor Barbara Gordon, No Powers AU, Podcast AU, Murder Mystery

Episode 1: Female Sleuths & Self-Defense

"Hello, Pythians. It's been a while. Today we'll be discussing some sensitive subject matter. This includes but is not limited to domestic violence, child abuse, grooming, and murder," Barbara's tone allowed a hint of personal sadness. Her voice was subtly disguised with a Mid-Atlantic accent. Her voice was mature and robust, but there was something sweet and feminine about her cadence. The lilt in her voice was unlike her natural speech, but it added to the bit, along with voice-altering software. Oracle was a character, and she had to stay that way. She took a breath to collect herself. "Today, I have a special guest. She is loud and proud... And she is fighting to elevate the voices of domestic violence survivors during Gotham's lockdown. Miss Dinah Lance. Dinah, can you take a moment to tell us about yourself and your organization?" Barbara leaned back away from the mic as she put Dinah on speaker.

"Hi, Oracle. Well, as you said, I'm Dinah Lance. I've been in Gotham most of my life, and this organization is near and dear to my heart. Black Canary is my mother's non-profit organization dedicated to survivors of domestic violence. It goes back to before I was born.

"My mother lived in a community filled with women in violent and unstable relationships. She quickly realized that most of these women didn't have the tools they needed to escape, let alone protect themselves. So, she took it upon herself to secretly offer free self-defense classes in her apartment. My mother knew this wasn't enough, but it was all she could do at the time.

"Fast forward a few years. My mother married my father and got pregnant with me, and she had to take a break from offering classes. To her surprise, her neighbors took over for her. They went on to teach their friends everything they learned. Eventually, this led to a connection with lawyers, doctors, and childcare workers... And from there, my mom founded the Black Canaries.

"I was fortunate to grow up with two loving and supportive parents, and I took it upon myself as soon as I was old enough to continue what my mother started. Since then, we've expanded to all victims of domestic violence. Not just women," Dinah replied. She was obviously passionate about her cause.

Barbara made a soft noise to acknowledge all she'd heard. "I wanted to take this time to tell the listeners your organization now operates online. I left a link in the description... But I also wanted to ask about a specific case that's gained traction in the media. I understand that you've taken a personal interest in the Anna Stanfield case... You've also expressed discomfort with the long-time trend of giving murder cases nicknames," Barbara paused, "After a message from our sponsors, we'll talk about that and how this case is different from anything the Black Canaries have dealt with this far." Barbara played an ad for Ted Kord's tech company.

During that time, Barbara took the opportunity to quietly thank Dinah for the interview. "I appreciate you coming on the show, Dinah. I wanted to ask you personally if you'd like to come back to talk next month for Mother's Day?" Barbara asked.

"I would love to," Dinah replied, "And thank you for allowing me the opportunity to talk about Anna Stanfield."

Barbara smiled to herself. "Of course. It's always a joy to have you on the show," Barbara replied, "We're back on air in five... Four... Three... Two... Welcome back, Pythians. Before the break, I asked Dinah how the Black Canaries have taken an interest in the Anna Stanfield case and her critique of the media buzz surrounding this cruel Gotham slaying."

"Right. For everyone unfamiliar with the case, Anna Stanfield was an eighteen-year-old girl from Gotham. Last month, she got married to a man seven years her senior, and at some point on the first night of her honeymoon, she was brutally beaten and ultimately smothered to death.

"The media's taken this as an opportunity to talk about the lack of knowledge about her past. Instead of putting forth the efforts and energy to spread information about the case, they've focused on dissecting this girl's life to blame her for her murder. Her husband, Eddie Stanfield, is seemingly missing and has been since the discovery of Anna's body. Few efforts are being made to find him despite his history of violence toward women... And instead of being treated like a suspect, they are searching for Eddie Stanfield as a potential victim... Despite all evidence pointing to the contrary.

"What makes this case different from anything the Black Canaries have ever dealt with is the type of case that this is. Black Canaries deals with survivors. This is the first time we've ever dealt with a murder case. We're all working to find Eddie Stanfield and bring him to justice, and there's a lot I can't say legally... But I can say that we've got a few leads we're checking out," Dinah explained.

"I know you said you can't talk about the investigation for legal reasons, so I wanted to hear what you had to say about the nicknaming of the Anna Stanfield case as the Honeymoon Murder," Barbara replied.

Dinah took a breath before speaking. "With all the media buzz for the case, people have forgotten that Anna was a living, breathing person. People view this case as a form of entertainment rather than an actual murder of a real human being.

"The media's done a terrible job of depicting Anna's humanity. They've instead chosen to sensationalize her murder and reduce the brutal slaying of a teenage girl to nothing more than a series of puns and online memes," Dinah answered.

The two went back and forth, discussing the details of the case before their second set of commercials. "When we return from break, I'll introduce you to one of Gotham's best P.I.'s," Barbara announced.

The second set of commercials was three minutes long, allowing the two women to talk. "I hope I'm not talking too much. I don't wanna overwhelm-."

"You're doing fine, Dinah. Actually, I wanted to ask how you were doing? I've been following your work for a while now, and I saw that you've received threats-. Sorry, I sound like I'm still interviewing you. I wanted to know if you were okay," Barbara interrupted.

"It's okay... I've had worse. A few threats aren't going to scare me away from the truth," Dinah replied. Barbara pushed up her glasses and ran a hand through her hair. "Hell, if I wasn't mistaken, I'd think you were worried about me."

"I am," Barbara replied, "You know, Dinah... Let me know if there's anything I can do to help." Dinah made a soft noise.

"Keep an eye out for Eddie Stanfield... And boost my tip line," Dinah replied. Barbara could hear the smile in her voice. Barbara bit the cap of her pen before typing the tipline number and adding it to the description for the video. "You know what? I feel like I know you."

Barbara held her breath for a moment. "I make a point to get to know everyone I interview... Even if it's through research," Barbara half-lied. She didn't want Dinah to know they'd met before. Barbara's podcast identity needed to remain secret, not only for the safety of her daughters. The work she did in connection with her podcast was borderline illegal.

"It was so wonderful having you on the show, Dinah. I hope to hear from you in the future... I know you have to go, but I did enjoy speaking to you today," Barbara beamed. She chewed the cap of her pen as she waited to hear Dinah's voice.

"It was nice talking to you, Oracle... I'll keep you updated on the case," Dinah replied before hanging up.

She tossed her head back and ran both hands through her hair before calling another woman. "Hello? May I call you Question?" Barbara asked.

"Only if I can call you Oracle," Question joked. Barbara recognized the voice as ex-police officer Renee Montoya. She didn't see fit to mention it, though. Barbara chuckled.

"Of course, you can. We're about to go on air in a minute or two, and I want to let you know you don't have to answer any question you don't want to," Barbara reassured her.

"Let's get into it," Renee replied enthusiastically.

"Okay. We're back on air in five... Four... Three... Two... One. Welcome back. Before the break, I promised to introduce you to Gotham's finest private investigator, the illustrious and anonymous, Question. Question, would you like to take some time to enlighten the viewers on your connection to the Anna Stanfield case?" Barbara asked.

"Someone hired me to find and notify her family... A friend of Anna Stanfield who wanted to remain anonymous," Renee replied, "The issue is, Anna Stanfield doesn't exist. Or at least she didn't, up until a few months ago... But that made me wonder how Eddie Stanfield came to know her. She's an eighteen-year-old girl with no past, no known family, and no history... Not so much as a report card from her."

"It sounds as if you have some suspicions about the crime. Can you elaborate at this time?" Barbara asked.

"I've found some important information that's led me to a family within the city, but I'm not at liberty to say. The police have been notified. But I can tell you, I have reason to believe Eddie Stanfield is guilty of a series of violent crimes against Anna... And I'm not talking about her murder," Renee replied. Barbara took her pen and jotted down a note.

Silence fell between the two for a moment. "Are you-. Sorry, that's such a shock. I wanted to know if you were working with the Black Canaries or anyone else to get information on this case?" Barbara asked, stumbling over her words out of shock. She didn't think anyone would have any new information like this.

"Yeah, I've talked to Dinah before finding what I found... I told her I'd look into finding Eddie," Renee paused, "And I've gotten a bit of information from her as well."

"Can you tell us if that information led you to your most recent revelation?" Barbara questioned.

"Yes, actually, she did. Dinah personally went and found information of her own that led me directly to a series of truths that led to this mystery family," Renee replied, "We're not sure if they're her family for sure. We only know interesting circumstances surrounding them point to this case."

Barbara typed something on her computer while she listened to Renee speak. Barbara mulled over the details mentioned by both women and wondered if she should delay posting the episode another week. As it came to a close, Barbara pushed up her glasses and started the editing process.

22 notes · View notes