#but the more I know the easier it will be so bring it on!!

[glassesmcfancyhair]

A lot of craft fairs and street markets charge anywhere from $10-50 for the booth space and they host their events constantly! Also, there are event organizers who host multiple markets and if you sign up with them they’ll tell you when and where the next one will be!

In my experience, the equipment you’ll want/need to invest in for the best experience for you at these events is:

A table (maybe more? I don’t know what you’re selling or promoting, so figure out how much table space you need!)

An 8x8 or 10x10 tent. If you have any sort of disability the 8x8 will be easier for you to manage! 10x10s tend to be sturdier but that means they’re heavier!

Tent weights! Most event organizers require these and you’ll have to leave if you don’t have them. You can buy actual weights but there’s also bags you can fill with water and Velcro to your tent. I like these better, they’re easier to manage.

Tablecloths! If you aren’t ready to brand yourself, just go get a couple nice colored ones that don’t clash with your stuff. Once you’re ready to brand, hit me up I got an excellent graphic designer who can build you a kit.

Chairs! You’re not going to be standing the whole time, so give yourself somewhere comfy.

Water and snacks! There’s usually food vendors at these things, but it’s good to have something at your table in case you have constant customers.

A payment system! There’s tons you can download to your phone and get a widget to read cards with. This makes it easier to sell things because a lot of people don’t carry cash these days. Still bring a cash box because there’s also still people who ONLY want to use cash.

A TIP JAR. I get it, it feels kinda weird and icky, but if you’re talking or making art right there, give people the option to tip you! They might not buy a $100 piece but they might give you $5 for the pleasure of watching you work.

And then obviously- your art! Display it, put up pictures of pieces too big to move, make it cool and fun!

There are typically staff running around who can tell you where to set up and where the bathrooms are. Setup usually begins an hour or so before the actual market hours and you’ll be expected to be set up and have your car moved to the lot prior to the market opening.

Then you just vend to people who come to your booth!

I think at some point in time we need to sit down and start explaining to artist who want to make a career out of art that there are FAR more options than just "living off of commissions" and "posting my art online and praying I get paid for it".

[avatar-anna]

this is the second part of my exrry in italy oneshot! you can read that here

Three days had passed and Harry hadn't left your tiny apartment.

He kept saying he should probably leave, and you insisted there were things you had to do, but neither of you actually made it past the threshold of your door. No one said goodbye, or even bothered to shrug back into clothes. For three days, you ate, drank, and slept with Harry.

"You're making it hard to leave," he murmured, his voice low and content as you placed tiny kisses on his neck, his collarbone, his jaw, anywhere you could reach, really. It was how you used to wake Harry up when you were together, and when morning number four rolled around, you couldn't help yourself but lean across the bed and kiss his soft, sun kissed skin.

At first, you kept up the pretense of being unattached, of sleeping with Harry merely because you knew each other well enough physically. "This doesn't mean we're back together," you'd both whisper, or something to that effect, before blurring the lines of your non relationship once more.

"You're not making it any easier to kick you to the curb," you mumbled, one hand reaching up to caress his stubbly cheek. The fine, short hair that seemed to grow in the last few days.

Harry smelled good, like he usually did with a mix of the soap in your shower. It messed with your head in a way that was dangerous, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

So he didn't leave (again), and you didn't tell him to go(again). You and Harry stayed in bed for most of the day, only bothering to get up when hunger was too apparent to ignore. You managed to whip something up from the meager groceries you had, not having gone to the market recently, and sat with Harry at the little dining table by the kitchen. The balcony would've been a much nicer spot, as it looked out over the neighborhood square you stayed in, but it was too public, too many keen eyes would've spotted Harry immediately.

"Part of me wishes I hadn't seen you at all," Harry confessed later in the day. You were back in bed after a brief stint in the kitchen where you tried to make pancakes, which promptly turned into kissing and licking pancake batter off Harry as he did the same to you on the kitchen counter, pancakes no longer a priority.

You knew he hadn't meant it to hurt you, but the words sent a pang through your chest, so different from the heat and fireworks and butterflies you usually got from him. Everything was so different now. It was hard to face how much had changed, especially now that Harry was in bed beside you. "I know."

"It's easier to pretend when I can't see you," he said softly, his hand never once stopping as it tracked through your hair, nor did your hand stop tracing patterns in his chest.

"Pretend?"

Harry blew out a large sigh before sitting up in your bed, his arms stretching high above his head. There were hickeys littered all over his body, one on his hip revealing itself as the bedsheet fell and settled just below his waist. You found yourself transfixed by your ex's body, the one you still loved so much the idea of him leaving made your heart hurt.

"Do you still love me?" Harry asked out of the blue.

The question shocked you, but only because you thought the last three days would've made it obvious. You certainly didn't have to ask him how he felt. "Yes."

"That makes it easier too. In a selfish way, I guess," he said, not once meeting your eye. "Knowing you're in as much pain as I am."

Unexpected tears welled in your eyes. You never wanted to hurt Harry. He'd been right to say it was easier to imagine him happy and healthy post break up if you didn't see or hear from him. It was easier to move on if you convinced yourselves that you were better off without each other.

"Harry—"

"I miss you, Y/n," he said, his voice trembling slightly. Harry wouldn't meet your eye, which made all of this so much worse. "I know why we broke up, and I've done everything short of sleeping with someone else to try and move on, but I just—Tell me you're struggling as much as I am. Tell me you don't sleep as well as you used to because I'm not there. Or don't. Tell me this has all just been sex to you so I know there's an end to this—this—"

"Misery?" you finished for him. "I wish I could. I don't know if I'll ever be the same again, honestly."

"Then why—"

"Don't ask why. Please. Not when you know the answer."

It wasn't like you and Harry woke up one day and stopped loving each other. Everything about your relationship had been nothing short of perfect from the very beginning.

Until it wasn't.

"No one has to know this time," Harry said. His tone had taken on a desperate edge, almost making you turn away from him so you wouldn't have to face it, do this all over again. "We can—We can keep this a secret. It'll be just us."

It will never be just us, you thought miserably. "People already know, H."

At the look of confusion on his face, you reached for your phone. You showed him the slew of articles that had already been written. Pictures of you and Harry walking through Rome together three days ago, each one picking you apart or depicting you as the villain in Harry's life.

"I know that's why you're still here. You're waiting for the storm to blow over," you said, unable to meet his eye.

"That's not—After everything I just said, you really think that's why I stayed?" he asked. You'd turned away from him, but you felt his hand on your shoulder, the kiss to your temple as he leaned in close.

"I wish I was the kind of person who didn't care what anyone thought, that I could simply exist in this relationship and not let anyone else in, but—but I'm not. I can't."

"You. Are. Enough," Harry murmured, pressing each word into your skin with a kiss. You closed your eyes, tears leaking from the corners as he curled himself around your body. One leg slid between yours, and you selfishly pulled him closer as he continued to murmur in your ear.

You fell asleep in your ex's arms, the weight of his body on yours more comforting than any blanket. When you woke up, Harry was there, but he wasn't wrapped around you anymore. He sat at the edge of your bed, wearing clothes for the first time since he'd set foot in your apartment.

"You're leaving?" you asked, voice scratchy with sleep.

"I'm supposed to go to Florence tomorrow," Harry said, bent over as he tied his shoes. "I've got a dozen messages on my phone asking where I am."

Something in Harry's voice sounded different, distant, just the way he sounded when you initially ran into him. It pulled at something in your heart, something that you'd been keeping at bay since you invited Harry into your apartment—the knowledge that this would eventually end.

"So you're—You were just going to leave? Without saying anything?"

You heard Harry sigh as he rested his head in his hands. "I thought it would be easier. Our last conversation seemed...final."

"I know, but—"

But what? Harry was right. This wasn't going anywhere. You told him you couldn't be in a relationship with him, and he was responding to that. You knew it was coming, but it didn't hurt any less now that the moment had finally come.

"You're right," you said eventually, sitting up in your bed. "We came here separately, of course you have plans. I'm sorry if I kept you."

"You didn't," Harry reassured. "There's nowhere I wanted to be the last few days, but we... we're broken up, and as much as I want to stay, I don't want to keep giving myself false hope."

Your fingers twitched, itching to reach out, to touch him, hold him. But he was right. As much as you loved this relationship limbo, that was all it was. Stringing you and Harry along would only hurt you more.

"I'm sorry," was all you could say. For too many things, none of which you could bring up without crying.

"Me too," Harry said.

Leaning across the bed, he kissed your forehead, then stood up. "One day you'll realize how extraordinary you are, and you wont care how people perceive you," he said, his thumb caressing your cheek. "And then you'll go and make someone the luckiest man in the world by giving yourself over to him completely. I'm just devastated it wasn't me."

You watched him go from the sanctuary of your bed, knowing the second he was out of sight you'd break down completely. The door closed with a soft clock, and even though you knew you shouldn't, you hurried over to your bedroom window, waiting anxiously to get one last glimpse of him.

Harry's lean figure appeared a couple minutes later, his head bent and shoulders slightly hunched, avoiding the few photographers who had been waiting for him to leave the building. You wanted him to turn around. You wanted to see his face one last time, a final farewell. But perhaps for his sake, he didn't, and you watched as he retreated down the street and turned down the road out of sight.

On your last day in Rome, you found a note he'd written.

Harry had hidden it in one of the pockets of his favorite of your sweaters, though you weren't exactly sure when. It wasn't very long, and the note itself was no more than a scrap of paper, one you'd nearly thrown out by accident. But you would've recognized his handwriting anywhere, and fond memories of notes you used to find among your things kept you from throwing away the folded paper and opening it instead.

Perhaps in another life. Unless you change your mind in this one, H.

[spitdrunken]

Your Mr. Scarletella dear lord that was delicious!! I’m kinda obsessed w the concept of not knowing what you’re doing is bringing someone pleasure or at least not until they’ve cum from it. I praise you and I hope for more fics of that kind in the future <3

You're not sure why Mr. Scarletella has seen a bit more fidgety than usually lately. None of his behaviours present in typical, human ways. So, whereas you might have fiddled with your fingers, paced back and forth or talked too much, he's been eerily quiet and constantly distoring the space around him. Colours warp and twist. Sometimes, you'll blink and he'll be beside you. Then, you blink again, and he'll be in front of you. Before you know it, he's behind you again.

You simply can't shake the feeling something's going on. You stop walking. (Where had you been going again...?)

"You hurt?" You ask. "Upset? Troubled? Many quick... Move." Mr. Scarletella, usually eager to respond in his own way, remains quiet. He does appear right besides of you. You reach out for him, the brush of your fingers hovering right above his non-existent body. "Me want help you. You understand?"

"Me understand," he says. His voice is accompanied by more static than usual. The whole air around him seems to hum. Beyond that, his face looks a little different too, but you can't quite put your finger on it. "Me like you. Me want touch. Me want give you [...]... Happy. Enjoyable." He lowers his head a little, averting his face from yours. "You understand?"

You don't know one of the words he used. You try to repeat it. "[...]... Me not understand."

Mr. Scarletella tilts his umbrella a little towards you. "My body. ...Container. You want?" He shifts his hand so he is holding the handle of the umbrella out towards you. He wants you to hold it, it seems. If that'll make him happy, you're happy to oblige, though you don't quite see the significance. You smile at him.

"Me want. Give me." When you take it from him, you catch a glimpse of his face. It becomes obvious now what had been unclear to you before. A reddish flush has settled on his face, wide eyes only staring at your face for a moment before darting away. That should've been your first warning sign.

Even though he'd told you the umbrella could be touched, it's still a surprise that your hand doesn't go straight through it. There's a weight to the object that you hadn't expected. The handle seems to hum and vibrate in your hand with some kind of unseen power.

You twirl the handle in your hand, gliding your hands over the material. It's squishier than you would've thought. It's like holding an approximation of an umbrella made by someone who had only ever seen the object, rather than touched it themselves. You search and fiddle for the button to shut the top, just to make it a bit easier to carry, but you can't seem to find it. Static teases the edge of your hearing. You only see Mr. Scarletella out of the corner of your eye.

You twirl the handle in your hand, gliding your hands over the material. It's squishier than you would've thought. It's like holding an approximation of an umbrella made by someone who had only ever seen the object, rather than touched it themselves. You search and fiddle for the button to shut the top, just to make it a bit easier to carry, but you can't seem to find it. Static teases the edge of your hearing. You only see Mr. Scarletella out of the corner of your eye.

You sigh a little, your hands fiddling with the material before groping up and down the main body. Maybe it's unable to be closed? That would suck. Brow furrowed in thought about your silly little task, you extend your arm and press down on the outer canopy, trying to get it to fold in with no luck. When you push it in, it just pops back out again. Your arm is starting to ache from the weight. You squeeze the handle a bit tighter.

Then, Mr. Scarletella whines. Or, at least, you think he does. The noise is fragmented with so much static and garbled noise that it's hard to entirely tell. You whip around to face him, finding him in an entirely different position than before. He's slumped against the wall, feet facing outward, with an even deeper flush on his face as his fingernails scratch at his cheeks. His eyes are wide and his shoulders shake.

He looks downright loopy. He's lost control of his form, back having sunk several inches into the concrete wall behind him. Behind his fingers, he's grinning, eyes half-lidded and gaze unfocused. The sight sends an immediate, unmistakable shot of arousal through your body.

You're immediately overwhelmed with the desire to ruin him even more. If you had been able to touch him, you would've practically pounced on him, pulling his hand away and pressing your lips against his. Since that isn't possible, you lift up the umbrella and kiss it instead, intent on finding out how many more noises you can pull out of him now that you know what you're doing.

[axstoria]

Got this idea from another post that I CANNOT for the life of me find.

AU where Clark comes to Earth as an adult, and has to blend into normal human society.

He knows his name is Kal-El, but he also knows that humans don't have names like that. He sees a couple of celebrities and mashes their names together, hoping that it would make him a bit more likable in the eyes of humans.

He hides sharp-tipped ears behind black curls and ball caps, wears glasses so people won't notice his abnormally deep blue eyes, and is constantly in sweaters despite the weather to conceal muscles that shouldn't exist on a "normal human".

When he gets his job at the Daily Planet and has to interview Bruce Wayne, he's scared. This is his first time being near a real human celebrity, and he's mortified that he'll blow his cover.

He sits and stares at the billionaire for several minutes. This human is gorgeous in all the ways a being can be. His eyes are blue like Earth's oceans, his hair falls in perfect wisps against his forehead, and his outfit is perfectly crisp against his body, perfectly tailored to every small curve.

"Uhm... Mr. Kent?" Bruce bats his eyelashes at him, smiling expectantly.

Clark snaps out of it, his pupils dilating ever so slightly. "You're beautiful. Can I court you? What's your favorite planet?— I'll bring you rocks!"

The man is stunned, watching the reporter for some time before replying, "I... suppose Venus is nice."

Bruce is fully convinced that this reporter is autistic. Makes his life easier. They could connect in that way.

Clark flushes, realizing what he's done. He's very happy the interview wasn't recorded in any way.

Bruce shows up to work the next day and there is a box with his name on it in sloppy handwriting sitting on his desk.

He opens it, and to his amusement—and shock— , there is a piece of rock inside with a note that says one word: Venus.

That night, Bruce takes the rock home to the Batcave and analyzes it for its composition. When it is a match for Venus, he immediately connects the dots that Clark Kent is the new meta being that had been parading around Metropolis and surrounding cities as of late. After all, not even the greatest scientists have yet to reach Venus, so how else would this reporter get a rock from the planet unless he could survive the expanse of space and fly there?

He is dumbfounded. And maybe a little in love.

[nanenna]

I couldn't stop thinking about this despite having like 5gajillion wips, so have my humble submission. Be warned: lots of set up/narration. Also Bruce thinks a few times how grateful he is Barbara is currently "whole", this isn't meant to be ablist so much as him just being grateful she hasn't been injured by the Joker yet.

-------

Bruce woke up startled, chest heaving as he flailed around, disoriented. Where was he? When was he? What was the last thing he remembered? There were two sets of memories for that. He remembered having another fight with Dick after the end of a regular patrol before trudging up to bed. He also remembered years and years following that unremarkable patrol, an invasion, a battle, and fearing maybe this time he really was going to die.

He fumbled around until he found a lamp and turned it on. He was in his bed in the manor, in his own bedroom. There sitting on the nightstand, under the lamp he'd just turned on, was a phone on its charger. It was an older model. It was the newest model. It was both.

Bruce lunged for it, quickly turning it on to see the date and time. It was the past. Or it was the present and these new memories are the future. It was both.

Bruce let his head fall into his other hand, the one not holding the new/old phone. He was disoriented, he was confused, he was overwhelmed.

It was 4 o'clock in the goddamned morning.

Alfred couldn't make him contribute to the swear jar if he kept the swears internal.

No, focus. Focus on the present, what were his plans for the morning? Was it a school day? Did Alfred have plans? Fuck it, Bruce was calling all of them in sick, he needed to sort through all the memories he'd just had dumped on him and he… he needed to talk to his son. There was years of hurt he could prevent right now if he just swallowed his pride and TALKED to Dick.

Jason would be so proud of him.

Jason! Where was he right now? And Tim? Duke? Damian? Cass? Steph? Barbara would be home safe in her bed in her own home with Gordon, safe and whole. The others should be too, to varying degrees.

But Jason! And Cass!

Bruce practically flung himself from his bed, not even bothering with a robe before rushing into the hallway.

--------

It had taken both Dick and Alfred wrestling Bruce down to the kitchen to sit at the island and several cups of tea for Bruce to confusingly, haltingly stumble through his whole explanation. He kept having to backtrack to explain who the names he kept dropping were. It hurt to see that confusion and lack of recognition on their faces. It hurt seeing Alfred alive and well and so much younger, to see Dick be so very very young.

Eventually they decided to bring Barbara into it, knowing they would need her help.

Amazingly having to explain everything helped Bruce organize his racing thoughts. He even had the beginnings of a plan by the time he was winding down.

The first step was to confirm whether or not these sudden new memories were real. The easiest way was actually to go find his closest two sons: Tim and Jason.

Tim was easy enough, now that he and Dick knew he was following them on patrol he was rather easy to spot and even easier to convince the small, star struck boy back to the cave. It was no effort at all to get him to agree to move into the manor until his parents returned from their trip. Bruce would not make getting custody of Tim back easy for them.

Jason was a little more difficult. Willis and Catherine had both died and Jason had fallen into the cracks, completely vanished from the legal eye. They had to hunt through the streets of Park Row and Bruce winced with guilt all the while. Jason had been right, it wasn't fair of him to just give up on the entire neighborhood like he had. Bruce also knew he'd been right that it wouldn't be fair to the rest of Gotham for him to pour everything into Park Row and leave the rest of the city to rot. It was something he, Dick, and Barbara could plan together, because it was a lesson his future self had learned too late but Bruce was going to stand by: to actually work together you needed to communicate.

Once Jason had finally been found and brought home (safe! Safe and home where he belonged, where he had free access to all the food and books his little heart could desire) the next to get was Cass. Duke and Steph had loving homes, well Steph did once her father was behind bars and her mother being given a monthly stipend to support them. Bruce felt a little bad, knowing Cass was suffering and he'd waited until Jason was safe first, but Alfred and Dick had agreed this was for the best.

It took a great deal of searching, Cass had gone wandering far further than Jason ever had while homeless. It was all worth it when they finally found her and Bruce held out his hand, knowing she could read the love he had for his little girl in every line of his body.

Cass was home! Safe and loved and learning ASL alongside the rest of his children, already becoming fast friends with Barbara (whole and healthy still). It was finally time to bring home his baby.

--------

It may have been Batman that walked into Nanda Parbat but it was Bruce who confronted Talia.

“Beloved, what brings you here?” Talia greeted him with a wide smile and arms.

“I'm here for my son.”

A look of carefully cultivated surprise crossed her face. “How did you find out?”

“Last time you dropped him off at my doorstep when he was ten years old.”

“Ah, time travel then.”

“Of a sort,” Bruce agreed. “Frankly, I'm hurt you kept him from me for so long, I'm hurt you just left him behind without any warning too.”

“You have so many children now, one would think you have enough to keep you busy.” Talia turned away with a huff.

“I wasn't going to wait for them to find me this time when I can care for them now.” Bruce wasn't ashamed of loving his children, he planned on telling them so, often and loudly. “I also know what Ra's has planned for Damian, even if you don't. I won't stand by for him any more than I will the others.”

Talia stayed turned away from Bruce a moment longer, then turned back, her face carefully blank. “Just Damian?”

“All my children,” Bruce affirmed, unsure what exactly Talia meant.

Talia’s lips thinned, then she turned and started walking. Bruce followed, carefully keeping pace with her. She led him further into the compound, into the private living quarters used for the family of Ra’s. Eventually they entered a room, presumably Talia’s. She led him further into the room, where an attendant obediently bowed out of the way at their approach. The floor was covered in a plush rug and pillows, sitting in the center surrounded by clunky toys were two toddlers.

Bruce froze as he stared down at the two children in shock.

There were two.

Why were there two?

Both looked up as Talia approached, one with her glittering green eyes and one with shimmering blue.

Twins.

Damian had a twin.

Damian never told anyone he had a twin.

Talia had never told him he’d had another child.

Bruce’s mind raced as he furiously went through the foreign memories, though they had already started to fade. J’onn had warned him that was likely to happen, and he should let it lest the extra memories cause issues later. But right now he couldn’t help frantically sorting through them, trying to find some clue or reason.

“Damian you already know, and this is Daniel.”

“Twins,” Bruce found himself croaking out as he stared at the blue eyed boy in heartbroken grief. “In the other timeline Damian never mentioned a twin.”

Talia nodded, “And I did not either.”

“No.”

“Something must have happened to him, something awful. It was possibly the reason my other self brought Damian to you.”

When he first arrived had Damian been grieving his twin’s death? Had that been why he was so quick and steadfast in rejecting any sibling? Had every time someone called Tim or Dick or Jason his brother been another sprinkling of salt in a wound that was all too fresh?

Talia picked Daniel up and stepped over to Bruce. “Habibi this is your father.”

Bruce quickly pushed the cowl off and removed his gloves. There wasn’t much to be done for the rest of his armor, but he wanted his sons to be as comfortable as possible.

“We may never know what happened then, but if my other self thought Damian would only be safe with you then I trust her. And I trust you, my beloved.”

Bruce swallowed thickly as he took Daniel in his arms, holding the lost son he’d never known about. “I… thank you, Talia.”

Talia bent and picked Damian up, then handed him over as well. “Thank me by raising them well.”

“Come check on them,” Bruce blurted out. “You’re still their mother, I won’t prevent you from seeing them. Come visit, be a part of their lives, tell me I spoil them too much.” Bruce didn’t know what he was saying, that ship had long sailed. Or it had, in that other timeline that now wouldn’t ever happen, couldn’t after the changes that had already happened. He knew that other Bruce had been too in love with Selina and too bitter towards Talia to even consider this. But in the here and now…

“I will visit,” Talia said firmly, “but I will not stay.”

“I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you,” Bruce said, just repeating banal niceties at this point.

Talia smiled as she reached up to pull his cowl back on. “I must distract Father while you leave. Be well, Beloved, my darlings.” Talia leaned down to give each boy a single kiss on the head, ending with a kiss to Bruce’s cheek.

--------

Everyone had been shocked when he walked off the plane carrying two toddlers, but none more than Alfred, Barbara, and Dick. After getting everyone settled down and the twins in their new bedroom (thankfully they had enough things for two boys, thank heavens for Alfred overpreparing), the four of them convened in Bruce’s office where Alfred had brought them all tea and a few snacks.

“Twins,” Alfred asked once everyone had taken a seat and a cup.

Bruce huffed out a long sigh, “I had no idea. In the other timeline neither Damian nor Talia ever mentioned Daniel. Something happened, something awful.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, B,” Dick said seriously. “There was no way for you to know, and there’s no way to find out now.”

“You’re just going to hurt yourself if you keep trying to remember something that never happened and now never will,” Barbara added.

“Miss Barbara is correct,” Alfred said gently. “The important thing now is to ensure the boy’s continued health and safety. There’s no use in worrying about a timeline that you no longer have a connection to.”

Bruce nodded, he needed to let the memories go, he needed to be able to focus on the here and now. He’d written down as much as he could remember already, an edited down version given to the Justice League to consult though he felt it would become increasingly useless over time. Just by mending things with Dick and finding all his children he’d already changed things so drastically he doubted the memories would be useful for their family.

“Yes, you’re right, Daniel was a curve ball but he doesn’t really change the plan.” The next step: neutralize the Joker. There really were a variety of ways to make the man no longer a threat that didn’t kill him, and it was well past time Bruce chose one.

I have seen batfam fics and ideas where time traveling Bruce gets the kids earlier and stops all the bad things from happening to them. But I can't help but want to combine this with the DCXDP demon twins AU.

Imagine time traveler Bruce showing up at the league of assassins years early demanding his son... Only for two children to come out. Now he is forced to learn he had another son no one told him about. He has no clue what happened to Danny in the original timeline, only that it must have been bad for Damian to have never mentioned it.

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 9

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +2.8K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), P in V, oral (male receiving), Dom!Terry, Jealous!Terry, spanking *if you squint*, slight exhibitionism, rough sex

A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 4 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 5 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 6 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 7 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 8 => 🦋

*Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

After exiting the shower, I wanted nothing more than to nap. I wrapped the towel around my body and walked into the bedroom.

I walked to the side of the dresser where my clothes were. Terry had given me half of the eight drawers once he realized I was coming over more often. I stood before the mirrored dresser, turning around and checking myself out. My hair was poofy and falling out of my puff. I sighed deeply, knowing my arms would be suffering later. It was time for a protective style, whether box braids, micro twists, or a sew-in. I was definitely not about to be fighting with my hair any longer than I needed to.

I grabbed my vanilla cashmere body lotion from the dresser. It was not only my favorite scent but my signature. I was a vanilla girl through and through. I slowly walked over to the window and noticed the rain had slowed. The sun was slowly making an appearance through the thinning clouds. Faint streams of light beamed through the slits in the blinds.

The window was tall and almost floor-to-ceiling. It was the perfect height for me to use the window sill as a ledge. Raising the blinds, I propped my left leg on the small ledge. My foot rested in a small opening between the two sheer curtain panels. The soft creamy white color made them easier to see out of.

I pumped the lotion into the palm of my hands and began working it into my legs, alternating between the two. I took my time with every inch of my body, paying close attention to my tension areas. My thighs unintentionally became an area of extra attention. I slid the towel back on my legs a little more to work my way up my thighs. Pressing and kneading my inner thighs, I let out a small moan. I needed this. The muscles in my thighs were stiff and tense from all the running around I had been doing.

I made a mental note to ask Terry for a massage. I didn't care if it led to me getting put through a mattress. Fuck it! Terry's hands were like feathers guided by God. They knew exactly how to move and how much pressure to apply, and Lord, did they know exactly where to be to get me going.

Unknowingly, I had fallen into my own thoughts. Daydreaming about Terry's hands all over me made me put mine between my legs. I was absentmindedly rubbing my hand over the lips of my pussy. I dragged my fingers back and forth through my folds, letting my fingers stroke the underside of my clit. I slid my fingers back again, dipping into my hole. I moaned into the air as my breathing became harsh and ragged.

I quickly drew my hand back when I realized what I was doing. I instantly felt my cheeks grow hot. I had gotten so lost in pleasuring myself that I didn't even know how long I had been doing it. How had I managed to work myself up this bad?

I shook off the self-imposed sexual tension and finished lotioning my skin. I skipped over my chest because I knew I was just going to make it worse if I even so much as grazed my breasts.

Once finished, I turned to toss the lotion bottle on the bed and grabbed the underwear I had laid out. I was giving up on the idea of going outside. I was about to use this rain as an excuse to relax and get on Terry's last nerve. I slid the underwear on. While staring out the window, I got this eerie feeling that I was being watched. I looked around the open parking lot and checked the neighbors’ windows. I didn't see anyone or notice anything obvious so I tried to calm myself down.

As I turned around to walk to the bed, I ran into what felt like a brick wall. I stumbled backward but was grabbed by a set of hands I was all too familiar with— Terry's.

“Havana Rose, the hell you doin'?” Terry asked through gritted teeth. His hands tightened around my waist. I could sense the tension from his grip alone. Terry's head was tilted, and his jaw was tight. His face was scrawled with anger, but why was he angry?

I reached out to touch his forearm. “Terry, you okay?” I asked nervously.

“Nah, mama. You need to answer my damn question first. What…the…hell…were…you…doin'?” Terry asked again, annunciating every word.

“Nothin’, why? Is everything okay, baby?” I asked, moving closer to Terry.

“Nah, you know exactly what you did,” he said, placing his forehead on mine.

The intensity of Terry's stare let me know I was in deep shit. What had I done? I was at a loss because my mind was drawing a blank.

“What were you just doin' in front of that window, huh? Tell me, mama. What…were… you…doin'?” Terry asked, his hand moving to grip the side of my face.

He tilted my head back so I was looking directly at him. I stuttered through my thoughts. Nothing was coming together. I was in trouble and didn't know why.

“Daddy, can you just tell me? I wasn't doing anything that I'm aware of. I swear… this ain't me playin’. Terry?” I babbled finally able to form a semi-coherent thought.

“When you were in front of that window, where were your hands?” Terry asked, snaking his hand from my face to the back of my head.

“I was putting on lotion. So, I guess,… they were on me,” I stammered. I was praying that was the right answer.

“Nah, after that! Better yet, what were you doin' with them after puttin’ on lotion ‘Vana?” Terry snapped. His voice was low and rumbly. Every word carried through his chest like a roar.

“Fine. Come here. Maybe, this'll help!” Terry said, guiding me back to the window. “Stand right there and show me what you were doin'!” Terry boomed.

“Okay!” I yelled back as I turned to face the window.

“Oh, this ain't the time for you to have a damn attitude, ‘Vana. Now, show me!” Terry snapped.

I mentally went through all of my motions— feet, legs, arms, thighs…. Shit! My eyes widened in horror and embarrassment.

“Yeah, if I could see you doin' it, only God knows who else. Why would you stand in front of a window playin’ with yourself?” Terry said, closing in the space behind me.

His chest was now pressed into my back. He leaned down so his lips were touching my ear.

“So, we giving the neighbors a show?” Terry asked.

“No, I didn't mean to. I just thought no one could see me. I'm sorry,” I said, turning to face Terry.

“Mmm mmm, stay facing the window,” Terry said, leaning up again.

I could hear Terry moving behind me. I tried to peek over my shoulder. I was growing anxious and tense. I didn't know what Terry was doing behind me.

Out of my peripheral, I saw Terry's shirt land on the floor. Before I could question him, I heard his belt buckle clinking. He was undressing! I heard his pants rustling amidst my panicking. I could hear his pants hit the floor. Without warning, he kicked those to be in a pile with his shirt.

“Terry…,” I whined, twiddling with my thumbs. I was biting the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood. I winced at the pain.

“Don't talk. Just listen,” he said, pushing up the back of the towel and pulling down my underwear.

His hands began to caress and rub all over my bare ass.

“You know I have half a mind to tear yo’ ass up, but what good would a spankin’ do? I say… since you wanna put on a show for the neighbors, let's put on a show,” he said, leaning into me.

“But I didn't mean to… I swear. I was thinkin' about… you,” I whined, shrinking underneath him.

“Thinkin’ about me, huh? What were you thinkin’ about?” Terry asked, pressing his hips into my ass. His dick was hard and begging to be released from his boxers.

“You… um… touchin’ me,” I moaned out.

“You lyin' to me, baby girl?” Terry asked, placing one of his hands between us. I could feel him free his dick, causing it to poke the back of my ass.

I shrank down, moaning into the feeling. Terry instantly pulled me back up. Throwing his hands around me, he locked me in place. I had nowhere to run.

“You know Mr. Fitz was outside near the side of the building. When I pulled up, he was looking all strange and staring at the sky. Just for me to realize… he was lookin' at you. You had that poor old man stuck, girl. How do you feel about that?” Terry asked, grabbing a patch of hair at the nape of my neck.

“I didn't see anyone. It just happened. I started daydreamin’ and got lost in it. That's why I stopped,” I mewled.

By the way Terry was moving and the tone of his voice, I knew where this was going.

“That's the problem. YOU didn't see anyone, but I did. You like showing people what's mine? You liked the thought of someone seein’ you, huh? Is that what you want ‘Vana? You want the neighbors to see how nasty you can get? Their precious little baby girl…,” Terry huffed, using his feet to push mine apart.

He used his body weight to bend me over. His hand stayed in its place, tangled in my messy hair. He dipped his hips so his dick was positioned at my entrance. His other hand disappeared between us. I felt him guide the tip of his dick inside me.

“Since you wanna give them a show, let's give them one. I wanna Oscar-worthy performance outta you. Understood?” Terry barked.

“Yes, Daddy. I understand,” I said, leaning into him. There was nothing else I could do.

“You… better… show… out,” Terry annunciated through gritted teeth.

Without another word, he pushed his dick inside of me. My pussy pushed him out, begging for a little relief. He pushed half of himself back in, stoking into me slowly.

“What’s wrong? You can’t take Daddy’s dick all of a sudden?” he asked, mocking me.

I couldn't focus on a fuckin’ word that was coming out of his mouth. I was already struggling to breathe and stay upright. I reached out to hold onto the frame of the window. Before I could gather myself, Terry's dick started knocking the Sonic rings out of my pussy. He was definitely pissed. The only time Terry delivered dick like this was when he was angry. But this time, Daddy was angry!

“Ahh, fuck!” I said, falling forward.

Between Terry’s teasing and my previous self-pleasure, it took no time for him to bottom out. My pussy swallowed Terry’s dick whole, pulling him in like a vacuum. I was so gone that I hadn't forgotten we were in front of a window.

“Don’t let that towel fall. That’s all you focus on!” Terry groaned.

“Okay!” I screamed.

I was falling under the weight of pleasure. My legs were already turning into jello.

“Baby girl, focus. You ain't gone fall. You gone stay right here with Daddy,” Terry said, using his grip on my hair to pull me back up.

My eyes were closing, and my toes were curling into the carpet. I could feel every inch of Terry’s dick inside of me— every push and every pull. The level of pleasure I was feeling had me floating. My pussy clearly had a mind of its own because the grip it had on Terry’s dick was not intentional.

“Come on, mama. I feel you, baby. I feel you. Let’em see you, baby. Show’em why Daddy ain't never leavin’. Come on,” Terry groaned as his fingertips dug into my hip.

“Please, don’t stop!” I screamed. My voice carried through the apartment. I knew the neighbors heard me, but I didn’t care. Poor, Mrs. Geraldine.

I arched my back as much as this position would allow. I started to catch Terry’s rhythm, throwing my ass back on him with fervor.

“There you go. That’s what the fuck I'm talkin’ bout. Show out for Daddy, baby. You got this!” Terry said, smacking me on my ass.

I opened my eyes to see the window fogging up, causing me to smile. Realization set in that I was letting this man fuck me in front of a window. At this point, oh fucking well. I didn't care who saw me, and I for damn sure didn't care who heard.

His strokes were knocking me down something serious right now. How was I going to tell this man I wanted to be fucked like this all the time? Just walk in, get naked, and get to fucking work.

“Fuck, baby. Daddy’s close, but I need you to finish first. Come here,” Terry said, removing his hand from my hair.

He placed his hand down the top of my towel and began twirling my left nipple.

“Ahh, fuck!” I hissed.

His other hand fell from my hip, slipping around and under the bottom of my towel. Using the pads of his fingers, he began rubbing my clit. Already sensitive, I shuddered as I felt the first wave of my orgasm approaching.

“Daddy!” I yelled, throwing my head back.

“That’s right! Let it go, baby. Cum on your dick. Wet me up, ‘Vana!” Terry yelled. I could feel his dick throbbing inside of me.

Like a tsunami, I squirted all over Terry’s dick. My cum dripped down my thighs and legs, leaving a wet spot on the carpet below us.

“That’s it. That’s my good girl! You ready for Daddy, baby?” Terry grunted.

I could feel his hips stuttering as his strokes faltered as he was still in search of his own release. His strokes became shallow but held the same power and intensity. The smacking of our bodies echoed through the room like our own version of Morse code.

“’Vana, knees. I need you… ahhh… I need you on your knees, baby. Now!” Terry barked, pulling out of me.

I turned around at the speed of light, dropping to my knees in front of Terry. I knew the routine— mouth open, tongue out, hands on my lap, eyes on Daddy.

“Good girl,” Terry said, stroking himself while slapping his dick on my tongue.

Terry’s sat his dick on my tongue and threw his head back. “Give it to me, mama,” he groaned.

I wrapped my lips around Terry’s dick and began sucking him with a hunger only he could cure. His hands went to the back of my head, not to guide me but to stabilize himself. I looked up, searching for his eyes. Seeing Terry come undone under my doing, knowing he had full intentions of probably destroying me, made me smile.

I pushed further and swallowed the rest of him until my lips reached his base. I relaxed my throat and bobbed my head back and forth.

“Fuck, mama!” Terry yelled as his head dropped to look at me.

Terry's dick stiffened in my mouth. As soon as I felt the first drop of cum, I sucked him up again and rested at the base. Ropes of cum spilled to the back of my throat as I swallowed what would have been mouthfuls. This load was different— heavy, dense, and full of emotion. Breathing through my nose and relaxing underneath him, I let Terry empty himself and ride out his high in its entirety. I had no intentions of disturbing him.

Once he was finished, Terry released himself from my mouth. Looking down at me, he cupped my face in his hands. He pulled me up from the floor and pulled me into a heated kiss. It was clear that his anger had subsided, but the passion was still there. His tongue danced around mine, dominating the kiss. He drew in a breath and sucked in my bottom lip. I moaned out, feeling myself get worked up again. Terry pulled back slowly, leaving me craving more.

“Oh, don’t worry, mama. We got all day,” he said, picking me up and carrying me to the bathroom.

Today was going to be a long day. Pray for me.

Taglist: @persethegawd @kimuzostar @brattyfics @avoidthings @5headsupremacist @insidefeelingofanadult @kirayuki22 @nayaesworld @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @ariiijestertheklown @nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh @megamindsecretlair @jimmybutlrr

@creartivefairy @gg-trini @vivaalenaa @slutsareteacherstoo @skyesthebomb @blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere @androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho @pocketsizedpanther @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @babybratzmaraj @pinkpantheris @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi

@onherereading @blyffe @helloncrocs @beenathembo @thiccc-c @lovey-3 @curvyambitions @iburias @geee3bayyybeee3 @episodes-ff @ineedmyaccountback @rebelrel0987 @prettypink-princesss

[malusokay]

Haiii !! I'm obsessed with your blog. Do you have any tips for staying motivated? I wanna better my life and I have all the resources to do so. it's just motivation that's the problem 😓😓

surround yourself with inspiration.

for me, my friends are one of my biggest motivations—having people around who inspire and encourage you to grow is everything.

it’s not just about support; it’s about energy. being in a circle of people who push you, directly or indirectly, to be better is so important.

don’t lose sight of your goals.

always keep in mind what you’re working for, whether it’s an academic milestone or something personal. knowing your “why” makes the process so much easier.

when you have a clear picture of what you’re striving for, working hard feels purposeful instead of just tiring.

set HUGE goals, and then work backwards.

start with the biggest, boldest goal, then break it down into smaller, manageable steps that fill the gap between where you are now and where you want to be.

here’s what I mean: let’s say you’re in high school, and your ultimate goal is Cambridge.

you now → finishing an essay → getting a specific grade → finding balance → acing exams → writing your personal statement → Cambridge.

this is a very vague example, but the idea is to create a roadmap where every step feels doable—and every step brings you closer. you guys get my point hahaha

find balance to avoid burnout.

I’m a total workaholic, and spending time on things that don’t align with my main goals usually makes me feel horrible. but balance is non-negotiable.

for me, balance means baking with my friends, diving into hobbies that challenge me outside of academia, reading something complex but unrelated to my studies, or creating content like this to inspire others.

whatever it looks like for you, find something that lets you reset and recharge.

visualise, but don’t let it become procrastination.

I’m all for making Pinterest boards and visualising your dream life and I highly recommend doing it because it ties into the whole “don’t lose sight of your goals” idea.

BUT: overplanning can become its own trap. making endless lists, moodboards, or ideas without ever starting the actual work is just procrastination in a prettier outfit.

so yes, make your Pinterest board, set your goals, but don’t stop there. Start taking action, even if it’s just one small step today.

I hope this is helpful to you, and I wish you the very best on your journey, if you (or anyone else hahah) have more questions regarding this, just let me know, and we can dive into this topic a little deeper. <3

my insta @ malusokay

[rosyhoneydew]

nsf/w continuation of this fic below ⬇️ happy Thanksgiving pt. 2!

Buck opens the door for them to step back inside. He thrills a little at the feeling of Tommy's hand on his waist. God, it feels good to have those hands on him again. Chimney's alone in the kitchen, bagging up turkey and setting the dishes in the sink. He smirks at the two of them when they walk in and Buck resists the urge to smooth down his hair where Tommy had grabbed at it.

"You two talk things out then?"

Buck gives him a look. "You know there were easier ways you could've gotten us to talk."

"This way seemed more fun," Chimney responds lightly. "Can I get you some leftovers, Tom?"

"That would be great, thanks."

When Buck looks up at him, Tommy is smiling. He looks like he's come back to life. It's a stark difference from the cautious, uncomfortable man that walked in a few hours ago.

Tommy catches him looking and the smile grows sweeter.

"Come home with me tonight," Buck leans up to whisper.

He gets an eyebrow raise in response.

"Just to spend one night, not- I'm not asking for more than one night."

Tommy leans in even closer, his lips pressed to Buck's ear. He places a kiss at the soft spot of his jaw and whispers back, "Okay."

They pack up the night quickly after that. Tommy helps with the dishes, You guys did all the cooking, let me do this and Buck gets called into Jee's bedroom to say goodnight. When he emerges, 2 stories later, Maddie, Chim, and Tommy are standing around the counter, chatting and laughing. It sends a ripple through his heart. He can't help but think of Maddie's advice I think you have to trust the Universe is gonna bring you a special person. What could be more special than this, he thinks, a warm feeling washing over him.

Tommy drives them back to Buck's apartment. There's a slight hesitancy in him as they walk inside, maybe wondering if Buck has changed his mind, remembering what happened last time. Buck hasn't. He grabs Tommy's hand and pulls him inside.

He doesn't give either of them the time to overthink. The moment they're inside he's got his arms around Tommy's shoulders, kissing him messy and dirty and full of pent-up feeling that he's been trying and failing to burn out in his oven.

Tommy matches him step for step, he wraps one arm around Buck's waist and drops the other hand to his ass, squeezing and pulling him closer. They stand there, making out in Buck's kitchen for minutes on end before the desperation Buck feels becomes too much. He pulls away, pecking Tommy on the lips a few more times, like he can't stop.

"Bed?" he asks.

Tommy nods, repeats, "Lead the way."

Buck walks them upstairs, shimmying off his pants and shirt before laying back in the center of the bed. Tommy watches for a moment, like he can't believe he's here. It's sweet, but Buck is hungry so he spreads his legs wide and drops a hand to his dick, playing with it over his boxers.

"Come on," he urges.

Tommy follows after that, dropping to his knees and hooking his hands behind Buck's legs. He uses the leverage to pull Buck to the edge of the bed, nuzzling his cock the second he's eye-level. It's not what Buck was expecting, the sudden movement and stimulation making him gasp.

"Baby," he groans.

Tommy opens his mouth and places kisses along Buck's cock, sucking through the cloth at the head. It's dulled by the cotton, but the feel of Tommy's warm mouth and tongue pressing against him still leaves Buck moaning through it.

Tommy pulls his underwear down at the sound, staring at Buck, fully bare and flushing under the attention. The sensation of being watched sends tingles through Buck's body and he squirms. Tommy holds his hips to keep him still.

"I've missed you so much."

"You talking to me or my dick?" Buck asks.

Tommy sends him a look, but it dissolves in a moment. "Both," he admits. "I love your dick."

"Yeah, you miss having it inside you, baby?"

Tommy groans. Buck wishes either of them had the patience for that tonight. He lifts his hips a little instead.

"Want your mouth."

Tommy doesn't make him wait. He licks up and down Buck's cock a few times and then sucks the head inside his mouth. It's hot and soft inside his mouth, the way it always is, and Buck moans.

He sucks the head a few times, getting the angle right before he takes Buck down, going all the way until his throat is stuffed full. It makes a wet, clicking sound when he does and Buck gasps in response, eyes closing in arousal. He's always loved the sound of sex.

Tommy works him faster after that, gliding up and down in a wet slide that leaves Buck moaning and twisting in Tommy's hold. It doesn't take him long to get close. The feeling of Tommy's tongue pressing flat against him and the Tommy's right hand slips up to play with his balls and press just behind them gets him there.

"Close, baby, I'm so close," he gets out, urgent.

Tommy groans, working faster and spending more time sucking at the head as he does. He runs his tongue in figure eights there and slides down in rapid up and down motions and Buck is gone.

Buck can hear himself moaning and tries to keep his hips from fucking up into Tommy's throat with too much abandon, but Tommy doesn't seem to mind. He moans himself, swallowing and sucking Buck through it.

Buck is still coming down when he notices, Tommy's got his head resting against Buck's thigh, his mouth open on the grunts and groans pushing forward. He's got one hand, still wet with Buck's come, stroking his cock fast and hard. Buck's not even sure when Tommy got his pants undone. The sight of it is so blingingly erotic that Buck feels a shockwave of arousal run through him again. It's not long after that that Tommy looks up at him, eyes pinching before they roll back as he comes.

They sit there breathing for a moment, before Buck pulls Tommy up to the bed that has to be hell on your knees. Tommy lays down next to him, reaching a dry hand over to weave his fingers into Buck's. There's still so much to say, so much that Buck wants to make sure they air out, but for now they're content to lay like this. They've got time.

[vellazx]

Luffy x Reader (Gender not specified) — Angst / Fluff — Can be taken as platonic or romantic. Small and optional romantic Ace x Reader if you squint.

When all of you got separated at Sabaody Archipelago, Kuma sent you to one of the many places you didn’t desire to be held in.

He asked you right before sending you away, “If you could go someplace for vacation, where would you go?”

You were hesitant to respond.

“Anywhere my friends are.”

Impel Down. He sent you to Impel Down — that wasn’t the slightest bit a vacation. It was pure torture, for all the time you were stuck in a cell.

The World Government considered you dangerous enough to holster you on level 5, considered to be the floor of Impel Down that holds the most world-threatening criminals. You heard of a possible ‘level 6’, but that wasn’t your concern.

You expected to be alone throughout your suffering in that cell.

But there was one factor making it just the slightest bit easier for you.

Luffy’s older brother; Portgas D. Ace.

He sat chained up in the cell right next to yours, alongside an infamous Fishman Warlord who somehow ended up on the Government’s bad side.

When he saw you, he recognized you almost immediately. All the way back from when he met you in Alabasta.

“It’s… you? You’re Luffy’s friend. Why are you here…?”

If only you knew the answer to that question.

Ace grew fond of you rather quickly. Despite your situation, you tried your best to remain somewhat calm and have faith that you’d escape from the hellhole that called itself ‘Impel Down’. He wouldn’t prefer anyone else be in the cell next to his own. You felt the same about him, too.

The two of you sorted your trope out as ‘comfort buddies’, if that even made sense at all. When you were upset, he would try to cheer you up from across his own cell, despite his weak and raspy voice.

You did the same. Constantly telling him that you’d find a way to get him out.

Not just for his sake — but for Luffy’s sake. You cared deeply for your captain, and you didn’t need much convincing to know that he and Ace were the closest of the closest.

Ace saw it in your eyes, whenever you talked about your life-changing (stinky) captain, the glint of adoration you held for him. Therefore he swore to find a way to get you out of Impel Down, as well.

He didn’t lie when he said those words to you.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you out, too.”

But what about what you said?

Luffy, the boy whom you would die for, held his brother’s cold body in his arms. He found a way to sneak into Marineford, vowing to help you rescue Ace.

You said you’d get him out.

Though his freedom only lasted for a moment.

Akainu prevailed, bringing about the death of a friend you had little time to spend with.

Ace was more than the brother of the one you were deeply loyal towards. He was one of your closest friends, there for you during your breakdowns in that cell — as you were for him.

You were there. You didn’t have time to react as the magma empowered Admiral punched a hole right through his ribs.

You didn’t even do so much as budge.

No lies were to be spread. You blamed yourself for allowing Ace to get killed so easily. You could’ve helped. Saved him.

You entirely believed it was your fault for not doing anything.

So why did he forgive you? No. He didn’t forgive you, because he didn’t see you as a problem to begin with. He had no need to accept your apology, because he deemed it unnecessary.

Your captain. The one who was there during Ace’s death. The one who suffered the most.

He didn’t blame you.

Rather, he showed you sympathy. He knew you had gotten close to his brother while being held hostage in the underwater prison.

As tears fell from your eyes, Luffy wrapped his arms around you, caressing the back of your head with his calloused hand, still bruised from all the fighting he indulged in.

“Stop blaming yourself. I don’t like it. And stop crying! I’d prefer not to see you cry, ‘cause I don’t like it. Not one bit!”

You thought for sure he would’ve been somewhat upset with you for not being able to prevent Ace’s death. But no. Instead, he was upset with you for blaming yourself.

“…But I thought—”

“Urgh. Then— stop thinking!”

He was never mad at you.

Your overflowing tears soaked his bandaged shoulder, damp spots littered all over it.

You weren’t exaggerating when you said you would’ve lost your sanity without him in multiple scenarios. This one easily being crowned the worst.

He held you close until he had to leave for his training.

Even after two years passed, he still didn’t blame you.

“Lu. You see those stars up there, right?”

“Shishishi! Of course I do! What about them?”

“One of them is Ace. He’s watching over us. I just know it!”

“I already knew that! Of course he’s watching us! Why would he not be? C’mon, tell me something more creative!”

“Ugh, you’re ruining the moment!”

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

im clawing at the bars of my inclosure for wolverine headcanons please please go crazy do whatever you want cause i am consuming content at the rate of a black hole and i love ur stuff but if you are in need of some guidance or ideas how about non sexual intimacy cause i go crazy(er) for that

This can be about any Logan really, and it should be gender neutral <3 I hope you like it!

As always request are open for both Logan and Bucky Barnes

Ways Logan shows love:

He is very much an acts of service type of guy

Words are hard for him sometimes, but doing things for people he cares about is a breeze

He does things that are so simple but really show that he loves you. Things like pumping your gas for you or driving you around. People drive crazy and you shouldn't have to risk your life to just get to the grocery it's no trouble at all for him to take you

Honestly, it's no trouble for him to do anything for you

Omg and he is skilled in many things! I mean he's lived many different lives and has tried many different hobbies and trades so he can do almost anything for you

You need a new bookshelf? He'll build you one from scratch

You're so busy you don't have time to make dinner? He'll bring you your favorite food in exchange of your books and laptop, you need a break anyways

Your water heater broke? Well obviously, he can fix it why waste the money on a plumber!?

He does begin to enjoy physical touch if that is one of your love languages. It doesn't have to be intimate, and honestly, after a while, intimate touch isn't what he seeks out. He enjoys knowing you're near. If you're near him, then you're safe

In the beginning he would flinch when you tried to cuddle, then after a few months he would wait for you to initiate the cuddle session that he grew fond of but after around six months of being together he starts to get more comfortable with asking for cuddles

Forehead kisses are his favorite. So are the kisses he leaves on the very top of your head

He was so used to changing himself to become whatever the people around him needed him to be, but with you, he figured out quickly that you just loved him. You loved Logan, not the Wolverine. After he figured this out, he started to allow himself to let walls down, to let you in, and he never regretted that decision

He would let you practice your hobbies on him. You wanted to practice a new type of eyeshadow look? He can sit still for you, no problem. You want to try a new recipe? He'll try whatever you make him happily

If you had a presentation at work or for a class, he would sit and listen to you go through it for hours until you felt prepared

Following that idea, he would listen to you talk about anything for hours. He loves hearing the gossip you've collected and if you need to rant, he will listen and tell you that you were right (even if you were so clearly wrong) because you do no wrong in his eyes

He praises you constantly! Like I said, you do no wrong. To him, you are an angel, and he truly believes that you can accomplish absolutely anything in your life

Overall, he just wants to make your life easier. You make him so happy, and you've become such a light in his life. Doing things for you is the least he could do

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@chaimshelii

@aoi-targaryen

@eyes-ofhell

@sad0ni0n

@fries11

@slowlikehoneyyy

@brisinggamenwearer

[kr-starz]

Y'know that line, where Felicia says that they're all responsible for taking care of her kids? Vander, Silco, and herself? Specifically Vi because she's her first, but it's the fact that the two (Silco and Vander) are doing what they're doing out of love for Felicia and the kids. They look at them and see a better future for the undercity. Vander took in Vi and Powder because that's what Felicia would've wanted, because she entrusted them to make Zaun a better place in order to raise her kids. Yet, she never got the Zaun that would treat her kids right. But she chose the right people to raise and take care of them as best they can.

The kids barely know their mom, but they've taken every aspect of her being knowingly or not. They're stolen her spirit and they engulf every aspect of who she would've stood for. And Vander raises them with the morals of Zaunian's, he raises both Vi and Powder as best he can; but I like to note how Vi is more-so of Vanders kid, not saying Powder wasn't meaningful to him, I'm just saying Vi spent a lot more time after Vander, and took after him more. This is important seeing as how Violet turns out in the war, but she has so many aspects of Vander it shakes me sometimes.

Silco doesn't take in Vi, but he does take in Powder/Jinx. Powder is the only kid to just encapsulate all of the main trio. Which is why she probably turns out how she turns out. Silco, while he does split paths with Vander, I doubt that he has ill-willed intentions towards Felicia. Hell he probably thinks about her fondly while looking at Jinx. The reason I mention Vi turning out a lot more Vander-like is the fact that Silco has such a long term grudge against Vander that it seems like he see's a lot more of Vander in Vi than Powder; ESPECIALLY after their fight. So that's why he doesn't like Vi that much after all.

So seeing as Powder is more Felicia than Vander, Silco raises her and he raises her how he would. Because Powder is so young when he took her in, she is impressionable and malleable. Easy to convince of things; which brings me to a whole other rabbit hole I can't quite go down, but it's easier for Silco to tell Jinx that her sister left her. Similar to how Vander hurt him and abandoned him (I don't remember this part THAT much I apologize). But it's obvious Silco see's many similarities between Jinx and Vi, with himself and Vander. You know that Jacket scene? Where Jinx finds both Vander and Silco's jacks on the same rack? Where Silco's jacket is tucked neatly beneath Vander almost in a protective way. (That's how I interpreted it at least). It's similar to how Vi has protected Jinx as her older sister. Silco and Jinx get along so well because they're so similar to the other, and it makes sense for Jinx to be raised by Silco instead of Silco taking in Vi for any alt lore swaps.

Jinx is so loved. Not only is she raised by her mother, and her two godfathers, she has a sister willing to go to the earths end for her. She's so loved, yet every moment she's spent not feeling it, it ends up in destruction. And every moment she does feel loved, she feels that doom take over, that inevitability where the cycle of bad luck will happen.

Jinx is like a perfect embodiment of a Zaunian citizen; seeing as how she was raised by Vander, Silco, and Felicia. They all stand for different things in hopes of reaching the same goal. Felicia is given very little screen time, but within that limited time you're able to see that she is the drive, the desire and the hope you find in a person. The drive that makes you want to improve, the drive that makes you want to better the world and fight for it. Vander is the heart of Zaun, he drives it forward by keeping everything afloat, his morals and rules of "we don't turn in our own people" is just plain loyalty. He's the person achieving those dreams by setting the ground rules, he enforces and he keeps the boat steady. Silco is looking towards the future, he's the person who's actively making an effort in order to change, he's the brains of the operation and he does what he can in order to achieve his and everyones dream of hopefully making the undercity a better place for people to live in; and by people we mean his loved ones, and by his loved ones we mean Jinx. Because Silco is so fundamentally flawed as he's portrayed as a villain and acts like one, his cruelty is an understatement, but what he's fighting for still stands. Which is making Zaun a better place for Felicia's kids to be raised; it wasn't the path they thought It would turn out to be, but it was the path that he forged in order to get what he viewed as the perfect life for Jinx. Because he's fighting for her. And that's another reason why I feel like he's so keen on keeping her happy.

Anyways end of yap session, tldr; Jinx Is the perfect embodiment of a Zaunian citizen because she's been raised by the hopes, foundation, and future of Zaun (Felicia, Vander, and Silco)

[zooophagous]

How do you manage to care for so many animals without neglecting any of them? Like how much of your day is just animal care?

It gets easier when you realize that a lot of things can be done all at once or on a strict schedule.

Like I know from experience how often an animal cage needs to be cleaned and how quickly they clear out their food and water hoppers, so I just straight up plug the maintenance into my calendar as an appointment on regular intervals.

The cats share their stuff and so do the rabbits, so taking care of them is simple because it doesn't really tack on much time to pour food into two plates instead of one, or scoop one more litterbox at a time.

Many of my pets are reptiles with slow metabolisms, and they do not eat every day (some of my larger snakes don't even eat every week) so their maintenance is mostly spot cleaning turds and carrying around a big water pitcher and topping them off.

The only animals I consider truly high maintenance are the dogs, which require several walks a day and dedicated training and supervision not to get into stuff. Especially Tuunbaq, who is a rebellious young male puppy who loves to deconstruct things when he's bored.

The nice thing about the dogs though is if I'm having a very busy day, I have a trustworthy dog daycare facility that knows both of them and loves them and can usually make space for them if I absolutely cannot be there for them that day.

Animals are my special interest and have been since I was a kid, so I don't mind putting in extra work for them. I won't lie and say it's easy, but it's easier than you would think.

I would say right now though I am at capacity at least for mammals, which need more messing with than inverts or reptiles. I won't be bringing home any more mammals until I have an actual hobby farm, which is a dream I've been clinging to for several years.

I may have to settle for a house with a yard. Letting the dogs have a space outside to raise hell and run around would probably cut my pet care stress in half lol.

[mullermilkshake]

Sukuna’s proposal

Yakuza!Sukuna x Fem!reader

MINORS DNI - Tags: Yakuza AU, fem reader, knives, blood, graphic depictions of violence, references to non-con, stabbing, potential death, gun use, fighting, risk of death/murder, threats of violence, marriage proposal.

Shinjuku - 1982…

Mr Nanami called your name from his office, "Can you come in here please?"

"Is everything alright?" for the first time since you started this job, Kento Nanami showed a concerned look across his face.

"I have someone incredibly important coming and I have to be upfront with you," he offered up the chair across from his desk and allowed you to sit. "To be honest, I thought you would have left by now."

Was he questioning your professionalism? You had been there a few months and he hadn't uttered a word. "How so?"

"Well this sort of work isn't exactly your usual office work, I know you're aware of my security systems."

You were also very aware that at least Mr Nanami was Yakuza, though it never bothered you. It was simple enough to come into work, do your job and leave in the evening. Of course it came with its risks, but any job linked to the Yakuza warranted more open eyes than usual.

That was why you opted for spray in your bag incase someone came with overzealous hands. You could handle yourself in some capacity, so it was never an issue.

"I'm also aware that you are Yakuza, Mr Nanami. That doesn't bother me if that's what you are trying to imply?"

Was that a sigh of relief? "So you're up to speed then, this makes things easier. I apologise I never implicitly clarified before you came, but as you may have noticed, it's difficult to find civilian staff who won't run at the first sign of trouble."

Mr Nanami seemed like a reliable man at least, he was prompt, respectful and incredibly chivalrous. Something that may come in handy later should trouble actually arise.

Though for now, it seemed plausible to suggest that you were in good hands. As long as that didn't change and he left you out in the cold.

"I took this job knowing what sort of work you may have been in, I just need a steady pay check to afford my apartment. I don't need to know anything or ask questions."

Mr Nanami nodded and leant forward in his chair, lacing his fingers together in thought. "Good. At least I won't have to explain this."

He rummaged through his desk drawer and pulled out a knife. large enough to be mistaken for a kitchen knife, though it was dainty enough to be pocket sized if you squinted at it hard enough.

"I want you to keep this in your desk out front. The man who's coming is the type that some people despise for various reasons and I do not like the fact you have nothing as a deterrent while he's here."

Some might have suggested in their minds that the man himself was a serial killer or something, but that wasn't it at all. That signified to you that the man in question was someone of great importance to Mr Nananmi.

His own boss perhaps? Someone with enough power to make enemies out of the wood work to warrant protection from a secretary out front at collateral.

You bet on that it was his boss.

"Alright then," you leant forward and took the knife from the desk, its weighted handle gleaming in the low light of the screens off to the left side of the room you never dared to look at. "If that's what you wish of me, consider it done."

Mr Nanami got up from his chair as a signal for you to do the same. "Thank you, I hope you never have to use it."

"I hope so too," following him, he led you out of the office and back to your desk to which you slipped the knife into your drawer just like he had done before. "What time will your guest arrive?"

"Tonight, but I won't need you to bring him through. I'll greet him myself," he made a move back to his office and stopped in his tracks. "It's best if you don't make direct eye contact with him, his presence can be overwhelming to some."

You nodded to give non-verbal communication and turned to your work for rest of the day until Mr Nanami came back out of his office to greet the shadow at the door.

"Chairman," seeing Mr Nanami bow to another man was an odd sight.

The man being shorter in stature than himself, bright hair and unusual tattooed markings on his face. He was beautiful, the markings were beautiful in their own way, and being a Yakuza man made his presence all that more intimidating.

Well, to other people. Not to you.

To you, he was just another man just like Mr Nanami.

For a fleeting second, the two of you made eye contact to which you bowed your head in respect and continued working, noting his silent footsteps wander past you and into Mr Nanami's office.

Another hour must have passed in silence while your pen scribbled away, scratching over the quiet for something to listen to. Paperwork and filed reports sorted alphabetically to make the time not drag whilst there wasn't much else to do.

A knock at the outer office door was the most interesting thing in the whole room, it sounded timid by the rapping of knuckles which led you to believe it was Ino coming back to tinker with the network, or fiddle with something computer related.

But it wasn't.

It was a man you had never seen before. "I'm sorry, is there any chance I can see Nanami right now?"

"Sorry, but Mr Nanami is in a meeting right now. He can't be disturbed, would you like to leave a message?"

"No that's fine," he moved towards the desk and just past it, looking at the office door. "I only wanted to see who was out here before I get my guys."

What?

He held up a gun and moved fast enough to get behind you. "Why he would put a woman out front is beyond me. The Chairman's in there, isn't he?"

So that man inside with Mr Nanami was the Chairman?

You said nothing, making little micro movements towards your desk drawer. The weapon seemed as though bad luck had graced your desk, spending not even twenty four hours in your possession and you were already edging towards it to use it on a man you'd never met before.

There was a gun pointed at your head and you were as calm as you had ever been. Though what was the use in panicking?

The barrel of that gun pressed against your head. "Answer me, bitch."

"I don't know who you're referring to," so close now, the drawer handle in your reach.

"Don't fucking lie to me," he was trying to be as quiet as he could, teeth gritted and all. "I have four guys out there ready to storm this place and they'll take turns with you, believe me. So cooperate and tell me."

He was making threats like that already? He was either incredibly wet behind the ears to use something so drastic this early, or it was a bluff.

"Alright, I'll get the keys to the office."

The excuse was enough for the pressure of metal to leave the back of your head and allow you to open the drawer naturally and moved your hand around to feel for the knife's handle.

'If a person has possession of a knife when threatened, they better follow through in using it.' That was advice you had heard once from somewhere.

Might as well listen to it.

It all happened so fast, taking a hold of the weighted handle and moving forward a fraction so you could drive the blade into the man's thigh. The gun went off regardless by your head and the shot rang through your ears though it wasn't enough to stun you.

You weren't sure how you got up from your seat the way you did to draw the knife out of him and lunge again with the steel pushing onto his chest, enough to topple him off his feet and drag him to meet the hard floor with you on top of him.

The ringing vibrated your ear drums, tingling too much to notice Mr Nanami's office door open. You were on top of a man who threatened you with a gun and there was so much blood.

But he was still alive.

It wasn't shock. It couldn't have been. You were still coherent, you just couldn't hear much. The red on your hands was new, sticky and warm enough to keep you out of the moment until someone took a hold of your shoulders.

It wiped you out and into reality, grasping at what you had done in the present in front of your employer and a stranger who was eyeing you intensely.

"Can you hear me?" Mr Nanami shook you a little, his voice muffled somewhat. "Are you alright?"

"He threatened me- I didn't know what else I could do."

And now you were justifying yourself. You would do the same thing if there was a time machine to take you back.

"But are you alright?"

"I'm fine. There might be others outside," how were you talking so clearly right now with just your little rapid breaths at your lips? "He asked about the Chairman and said there are four others."

"Can you stand?"

"Yeah. I'm alright," the blood was a nuisance.

Mr Nanami lead you over to your chair and pulled the desk phone to his ear. "I'm calling Naoya, he'll be able to take you home."

"Don't let that ingrate in on this Nanami," the Chairman spoke for the first time.

"I can't leave until this is cleared up, she'll need to get home."

"I'll take her back, Uraume is waiting in the car," the Chairman approached the desk and folded his arms with purpose. "Naoya is a brat, he'd only mess it up. I'll make sure she get's home while you clean up the trash."

Wait. Clean up? Things were catching up to you. "Is he dead?"

Had you just killed a man? You should have been more freaked out about it. But you weren't.

"He's kicking for now. Shame. You should have aimed higher."

Right in front of you was a hand, the Chairman's hand. You made a note of the darkened polish adorning his manicured nails, black bands around his wrist.

You took it without question. "I'll bare that in mind next time I stab a man."

"Good. Nanami, call by tomorrow when this is sorted."

"Yes sir."

His hand was far warmer than you anticipated. He never let go until you were in the car, a sort of blur until he broke the silence.

"Care to explain how a civilian found their way into a vipers pit of the Yakuza?"

He was the Chairman, it was only respectful you answer him honestly. Right? "Money. I needed the money. I was aware who Mr Nanami was as soon as I saw him."

The world zipped by from the car window, unaware for the crime you had just committed. If the man wasn't dead, he was certainly gravely injured enough to warrant a prison sentence should anone find out. It was never discussed or mentioned by Mr Nanami or the Chairman.

It was more like an afterthought from yourself.

"Yet you still accepted the job offer anyway? And now you've stabbed a man with a gun. This life is hardly one to brag about when you're collateral."

"It doesn't scare me," only his reflection was in your periphery, you didn't turn your head to face him. "It's a job. I've had my fair share of hardships to know life isn't easy. Defending myself is something that comes naturally."

You could have sworn you heard him chuckle. "Defending yourself is far more difficult than people understand. It takes someone strong to do what is necessary."

That much was true. And that statement was enough to get your head turning to face him. Even in the dim light of the passing street lights, he was beautiful.

How did someone such as himself find his way into becoming a Chairman?

"Sometimes we're faced with difficult decisions when the hardest choice is the wisest. It's just something that has to happen."

The blood had dried along your fingers and began to crack and chip away leaving streaks of exposed skin at the joints. It would take more than just one shower alone to get all of this yuck off of you.

"You speak more truth than most of the men under my watch. It's refreshing."

"Sir, we've arrived," a voice from the drivers side came about to ground you.

"Thank you for the ride. I appreciate it."

The car door was suddenly opened for you, the driver bowing and their identity remained hidden. The other door opened and the Chairman approached you.

"I never got your name, Mr Nanami never told me."

"Sukuna. It's Ryomen Sukuna."

Even in the darkened sky of the night's glow tapered off with the neon signs of Shinjuku, he was still beautiful. You spoke your name too and offered a bow before taking steps towards the door to your apartment.

A quaint little ground floor, and it was all yours.

"Do you need assistance?"

"No, I'll be alright from here."

His eyes were in the back of your head as you wandered past him. "I'll be forward because it's not every day I meet a woman who pulls something so extraordinary to gain my attention like you did today."

"Hmm?" you turned and watched him from your front door almost, he made no attempt to follow you.

"Marry me."

"What?"

A proposal from someone you had spoken few sentences to was a first. But you didn't find yourself shying away from the subject.

"Marry me."

"I..."

The man in front of you softened his eyes, never judging you covered in another mans blood. "Think about it, and come to me with any answer you choose."

He bowed to you and turned towards the car, the driver opening the door to let him disappear into the darkness of tinted glass.

After that night, you wondered about that man and who he really was.

You gave him your answer several days later.

And it was a firm yes.

[beetlethebug]

Okay now that I started thinking about Emmrich teaching my Rook, Quil, to read I cannot stop thinking about the rest of the Veilguard chipping in.

Bellara who's always making lists, writing down notes, and leaving little reminders. She writes out the labels of artifacts in big, clunky letters for Quil to practice his handwriting. She doodles pictures besides the names of artifacts when she gives lists for Quil to practice reading and finding objects. She also doodles the pictures on the grocery list. Bellara who's handwriting is very, very bad but she takes the time to write slow and big for Quil. She encourages him to write, handing them scraps of paper and telling them to come up with names for artefacts or jot down questions for the Archive Spirit. She also invites Quil to book club and will sit and read the passages aloud. Quil is pretty shy at first, but eventually it's common place to see Bellara and Quil curled up on any comfy surface in the lighthouse, Quil's quiet voice tentatively reading pages aloud. Plans to teach them Elvish once they're more comfortable with the standard language

Harding who will try and make letters out of stones for Quil to practice letter recognition. She embroiders his name on his clothes for him so that he at least recognizes his own name. It's a fun hobby, teaching him cross-stich and embroidery. Watching him stitch together letters in a shaky hand, always complimentary whenever he shows off their work. She asks him to make labels for her plants. Harding picked up on Varric's tendency to read missives aloud for Quil; she assumed it was because of him being second in command, but now that she knows it's because he's learning to read, she takes his place, reading and de-briefing Quil on missions before they bring it to the rest of the Veilguard.

Neve, who makes little detective stories for Quil to solve. Putting notes with simple sentences for them to decipher and put together. Always leaving little treats for Quil at the end to celebrate their solving of the puzzle. She has Quil organize case files for her, working on them recognizing names and places. She's very patient with Quil and helps them on their pronunciation. Not as formal a teacher as Emmrich but still working on the fundamentals of reading. She really helps Quil with interpreting and learning what sentences mean and helping him find deeper meaning within them.

Taash who doesn't really read casually but is definitely better than Quil. They've got clunky handwriting. Will use their fire-breathing to write letters and words for them. Tries to make it more fun/like a competition by saying that if Quil can spell the word, then they get the piece of treasure from a kill. Since they're so tall, they like to stand behind Quil when they find notes in the field and read it over their shoulder--or peer at whatever people are writing and tell them about it afterwards. Will kill anyone who dares to say anything about Quil's nerves when they're reading in front of groups who aren't the Veilguard.

Lucanis who will often write grocery lists in his native tongue just because it's easier for him. Who then rewrites a second list for Quil to hold onto while they shop so that he can cross-reference and make sure that Quil is grabbing the right things. Spite is reading everything aloud even though Quil can't hear it because he wants to help. Spite being the best audience for Quil when they practice reading aloud to them because Spite always has nice things to say about Quil. Lucanis teaching Quil some crow-short hands for poisons and tactical moves as a "just in case" sort of thing. Lucanis asking Quil to write recipe cards for him when he makes dishes. Taking the time to slowly explain each step, patiently spelling out words and treasuring the list of cards with handwriting that gets surer and surer with each card that's made.

Davrin who also isn't much of a reader in my opinion but loves to read tales of monsters and manuals about their habits. He definitely has a good voice for reading aloud. He'll ask Quil to read passages about the monsters he's carving while he works on them. Davrin who carves out the entire alphabet for Quil so they can practice rearranging the letters into words. Davrin who jokes about teaching Assan to read, too, so that Quil isn't alone. Quil and Davrin finding out Assan can learn to read with enough practice at pattern recognition and making it a competition to see who can learn more words first. Davrin who always is there with a pat on the back or a hand to ruffle Quil's hair when he gets tough passages right.

Emmrich who is so, so patient. Who loves to teach at the very core of his being and has an entire lesson plan made within the week. Who spends many nights finding research about the best ways to teach a person to read and write. Who will absolutely find a place in his office to hang up Quil's first attempts at writing like a proud parent. Emmrich who can sometimes get caught up in the technicalities and correct grammar but changes their speech for Quil. Emmrich who wants nothing more than to open up a whole new world of possibility for them. Manfred will color pictures and Quil will caption and write stories for them; Emmrich spends many evenings just watching the two of them fondly.

Just. The entire Veilguard being patient and kind and helping them succeed with a skill they never thought they would learn. Never making them feel stupid or less than for not knowing words or stumbling through sentences. The pride they feel when Quil confidently takes a missive and reads them aloud to the group alone for the first time. Quil penning very heartfelt letters to each of them once they're confident enough in their handwriting to express their gratitude.

[belovanat2]

Our new chance pt.5

warnings: verbal abuse

One Week Later

The three were getting used to their new routine, and the adjustment was easier than they had anticipated. The only challenge was keeping a few secrets hidden. Alice still didn’t know that Agatha and Rio were witches, let alone that Rio was Death herself.

And Alice had her own secrets to keep…

——

“Alice, dear, you haven’t touched your salad today,” Agatha remarked, glancing at the girl’s plate. Alice made a discreet grimace.

“I’m not the biggest fan of salads,” she replied, playing with the broccoli on her fork.

“But it’s important for your health…” Agatha said, raising an eyebrow.

“I know, but could I eat it another day? I’m really not in the mood today,” Alice asked pleadingly. Agatha was about to insist, but Rio interrupted.

“Yes, you can eat it another day, dear,” Rio said, giving Agatha a look to keep quiet. “How about we go out to the garden and enjoy my day off?” she suggested, standing up and collecting the plates. Alice perked up at the idea.

“You’re not working today, honey?” Agatha asked as she helped Rio with the dishes.

“No. I thought today would be a good day to stay home and get to know each other better,” Rio replied, glancing from Agatha to Alice.

Alice shrugged. What did Rio mean by that? Of course, it made sense that they’d want to know her better since she was staying in their home, but the idea still made her stomach churn.

“Okay, I think it’s a great idea,” Agatha agreed with her wife.

“I made a fruit platter for dessert,” Rio said, taking it out of the fridge.

“Like a picnic?” Alice asked, starting to get excited.

“Yes, like a picnic. It’ll be fun,” Rio responded, gesturing for everyone to head to the garden.

“I’ll just grab Mr. Scratch!” Alice said, running off to fetch her rabbit.

Meanwhile, the two women were already in the garden.

“Are you thinking of telling her?” Agatha asked, referring to their secret as witches.

“I’m not sure, my love. What do you think?” Rio asked her wife.

“I just worry she might be scared… but let’s see how the conversation flows,” Agatha replied honestly.

“I’m here!” Alice said, cradling the rabbit. Since moving into their home, she hadn’t let the animal out of her sight.

The three sat on the grass and began chatting about random topics while snacking on the fruit. It was clear that Alice was feeling more comfortable around the women with each passing day.

Agatha, sensing where Rio was steering the conversation, decided to bring up a more delicate topic.

“Alice, we’d like to talk to you, if that’s okay. What do you think?” Agatha asked gently. Alice tensed up, looking down at the rabbit in her arms and stroking it.

“Only if you’re comfortable… but we’d be very happy if you agreed,” Rio added with a kind smile.

“I think it’s okay. It’s time, anyway,” Alice shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, though she was still hesitant.

“Why did you run away from home? Did something happen?” Agatha asked softly, sensing the girl’s tension.

Alice took a deep breath before beginning.

“Because of my mom and her boyfriend…” She paused, breathing slowly in an attempt to calm her nerves. She avoided the women’s gaze, clearly finding it hard to talk. “My mom never wanted kids. I was an accident when she was 19. Apparently, I ruined her life—or so she always says…” Alice laughed bitterly, her way of masking the pain.

Agatha and Rio’s hearts ached. This was not a good start to her story, but they stayed silent, listening intently out of respect.

“She never liked me, never loved me. She always said I was the worst thing that ever happened to her. She just never cared about her own daughter.” A tear slid down her face, and Agatha gently took her hand to show she was there for her. “It got worse when she started dating Jackson.” Alice grimaced in disgust. “She began ignoring me completely. The only words she spoke to me were insults, and he felt comfortable doing the same…” Alice was now crying harder, prompting Agatha and Rio to step in.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry they did that to you,” Agatha said, stroking Alice’s hand. She was boiling with anger inside, as was her wife. Rio tenderly wiped the tears from Alice’s face.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault…” Alice tried to pull herself together. “I think it’s my fault my mom never loved me…”

“No, it’s not your fault!” Rio said indignantly. “Never think that, dear. None of this was your fault!” Alice gave her a sad smile.

“Well, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take the insults and humiliation, so I decided to run away. And when I did, I knew I’d come to Westview…” Alice finished her story, tears still streaming down her face. She finally met the women’s gaze, which was filled with compassion and sadness. But they had a feeling there was more to her story.

“I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through. You didn’t deserve any of it,” Agatha said, trying to hold back her tears. “But why Westview? Why choose to come here?”

The moment she asked, Alice grew visibly more tense, which didn’t go unnoticed by the women.

“You can trust us, dear,” Rio reassured her.

“It’s complicated…” Alice lowered her head, avoiding their gaze again.

“We’re good with complicated things,” Agatha encouraged gently.

“It’s one of the reasons I ran away. I’ve always been… an aberration to my mom,” Alice said, choking on the word that had haunted her for years, tears streaming again.

Agatha and Rio grew more worried. What did she mean by that?

“I know it’s strange, but… do you know the Scarlet Witch?” Alice asked, looking up at the women. This time, it was their turn to tense up. Agatha glanced at Rio in shock, and they exchanged silent communication through their eyes.

“Yes, we know her. Why?” Rio replied for Agatha, knowing her wife had less-than-pleasant memories of the Scarlet Witch.

“Well… she’s a witch…” Alice began hesitantly. But her story was starting to make less sense to the older women.

“Yes, she is,” Rio confirmed, waiting to see where Alice was going with this.

“And she lives here. People respect her…” Alice looked up, seemingly drawing strength to finish her thought. “Even though she’s different… they respect her. That’s why I came here.” She finally finished, looking at the women with insecurity.

The two seemed tense and remained silent. “Did… did I say something wrong?” Alice asked, beginning to panic.

“No, no, it’s not that,” Rio tried to calm her.

“What do you mean by ‘different’?” Agatha pressed gently.

“Are you a witch, dear?” Rio asked, though she could tell Alice wasn’t. There was no trace of magic in the girl.

“No, I’m not a witch… that’s not why I came here.”

“Then why?” Agatha asked again.

“You’ll hate me…” Alice said, clutching the rabbit tightly and hiding her face in its fur. The women moved closer to her. Rio gently took Mr. Scratch from Alice’s arms and began stroking her back.

“We won’t hate you.”

“Promise?” Alice asked, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at them in desperation.

“We promise,” Agatha said with an encouraging smile, while Rio nodded.

“Something happens to me… with my mind… and I can’t control it…” Alice’s heart raced as she whispered. “Sometimes I’m 17-year-old Alice… but sometimes I’m also 3-year-old Alice.” She rushed through the last part and curled up, hiding her face in her knees.

Agatha and Rio exchanged a look, their minds racing. But they understood what Alice was trying to say.

“Dear, look at me,” Agatha said, gently lifting Alice’s chin to meet her eyes. She tenderly wiped away the girl’s lingering tears. “You regress? Is that it?” she asked softly, and Alice nodded, feeling less inclined to speak. “And that’s why you chose to come here? Because people here accept those who are different?” she asked again, and Alice nodded once more.

“Then you came to the perfect place, my dear,” Rio said, cupping Alice’s face and smiling at her. “Agatha and I don’t mind at all that you regress,” she added reassuringly.

“Really?” Alice asked softly, her voice tinged with innocence.

“Really,” Rio said with a sincere smile. “In fact… we’d be delighted if you’d let Agatha and me take care of you,” Rio suggested, and Alice couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “To take care of both 17-year-old Alice and little Alice.”

Alice was stunned, unable to process it.

“What do you think, dear? Will you let us take care of you?” Agatha asked, stroking the girl’s hair.

Nicky had been right from the start: he was going to have a younger sister.

“I’d love that,” says Alice, resting her head on Agatha’s shoulder as Agatha wraps her in a hug.

Rio joins in, making the youngest end up sandwiched between them.

“Don’t you think it’s strange? Not even a little?” the girl musters the courage to ask.

“Not even a little,” Rio says with a laugh, pinching the girl’s cheek.

“Would you feel better if Rio and I told you a secret?” Agatha asks, and Rio gives his wife an incredulous smile.

“A secret?” Alice asks, curiosity lighting up her face.

“Are you afraid of the Scarlet Witch?” Agatha asks, before getting to the actual secret. “Because she’s a witch?”

The girl seems to ponder for a moment, leaving the older women anxious in the silence.

“No, I’m not afraid of witches,” the girl answers, and the women are surprised by the confidence in her reply.

“Even if people say they’re bad?” Rio presses further.

“Yes… because anyone can be bad, no matter who they are, so I don’t believe all witches are evil…”

Rio smiles, pleased with her response.

“And what if we told you that she isn’t the only witch in town?” Agatha begins to reveal the secret.

“She’s not? Who else? Are there more witches here?” the girl asks with an enthusiasm they hadn’t expected. The two women laugh, especially because Alice clearly hadn’t understood who they were talking about, even though it was becoming obvious.

“Us! Agatha and I are witches,” Rio reveals, eager for the girl’s reaction. At first, Alice doesn’t seem to react, but after a second, her face lights up with a huge smile.

“No way, that’s so cool!” she exclaims, thrilled, and the two women feel relieved.

The secret among the three was revealed and respected. It was clear this would be the beginning of a strong bond.

[nerdishpursuits]

Today’s episode was hard to watch. No doubt about it. But, sadly, this continues to be a reality for many women and raising awareness is crucial to combatting ignorance. Does it ever get any easier watching a woman being abused? Never. Is it necessary to show how terrifying and traumatic such events are? Yes. Even as Fina was rescued before things escalated further, this will profoundly impact her sense of self: her mental health, her emotional landscape, her relationship with her own body. The Fina we know is a vibrant, confident, deeply sensual woman. I’m sure she’ll be all that again but, for now, she’ll most likely have some form of ptsd. It’ll be another uphill battle but Marta will be by her side, every step of the way (given they’ve chosen to walk this thorny path, I’m hoping they’ll treat it with more care than Begoña’s own story of abuse; if done right, this can be a rewarding journey portraying the healing power of love and friendship, triumphant in the face of bigotry, victorious in the face of adversity)

Circling back to Marta. I can’t begin to imagine her despair at discovering Fina was abused. That all she’d been so desperate to prevent from reoccurring, has been attempted again, more violently than before. The guilt she’ll feel will be immeasurable, no doubt. And it will consume her from the inside out if she allows it to take root. Nothing is more hateful than failing to protect the one you love. And Fina is Marta’s everything, her whole world, her raison d’être.

Therefore, yet again, I’m going to remember that their story is meant to be one of hope and light. Which is what they are to each other. They’ll heal together, they’ll heal each other and grow all the stronger for it. The show’s not let us down so far. I trust this will end up a catalyst for many rewarding scenes together.

Which brings me to the foul reason they need healing to begin with. Thinking on it, it’s probably a mistake to call Santiago a psychopath, even as he displays plenty of traits that merit said label. He’s very much aware of his actions and deserves no leniency. Ultimately, he’s the product of a regime that glorifies in the systemic oppression of women. One whose very ideas, and ideals, derive from a deep-rooted misogyny. In Santiago’s purposeful narrowmindedness, a man is the epicentre of a woman’s life. Not being treated as such is considered a grave error and needs correcting. He’s the prideful despot who cannot fathom, or accept, rejection. One who cannot conceive of a world where he’s not given his due, as per the teachings of a society that views and treats women as second-class citizens, deserving of less and inferior to their masculine betters.

It’s all too clear Santiago’s worldview is also profoundly narcissistic, which makes his continued harassment of Fina even more disturbing. He genuinely believes he’s being magnanimous and merciful, extending his goodwill to her, the proverbial biblical sinner, so she can atone for her mistakes and be saved. In his own eyes, Santiago is a good man. In his misguided vanity, patronising and emboldened by a system that favours him at every turn, he even declares himself as such: a self-proclaimed saviour and Fina’s only path to salvation from a life of sin. Her sole path to redemption.

Truly, this character is utterly despicable and I cannot wait for him to eat dirt. But I also suspect he’ll cause more trouble until Fina and Marta are free of him for good. And while I’ll celebrate his demise with bells and whistles, I think the actor portraying this vile, sorry excuse for a man, is doing a spectacular job. They all are. Alba and Marta especially. Which is why this drama hit so hard when it made landfall. You feel Marta’s anguish and hopelessness, you experience Fina’s abject terror, you rage against Santiago’s condescending abuse.

That being rambled? Do I hate what Fina went through this episode? Wholeheartedly. It made me sick to my stomach, even as I’m grateful it ended with an attempt only (which doesn't make it any less of a violation). And damn, do I hate it’s necessary to show this nowadays because 2024 might as well be 1958 for many women still.

Also. I’m glad Marta didn’t have to ask Jesús for help, because she’d have never lived it down. Ultimately, I’m sure she would have done anything to liberate Fina from prison, even asking her older brother for help. But I’m glad the chosen path didn’t involve him. In fact, I’m pleasantly surprised Damián rose to the occasion. He keeps learning how to support and love Marta and he’s one gray character whose evolution I’m quite enjoying.

And finally? Marta so at ease with Carmen and Claudia. They’ve come such a long way and it’s a joy to see. From Marta feeling like she didn’t belong, back in the day, to them all falling into a much needed group-hug, knowing they can always rely on each other. Fina’s friends are becoming Marta’s friends and I love, love, love their scenes together. Not to mention they’re all kinda related now too, which adds some much needed levity.

Remains to be seen how they deal with the stigma of this entire situation. Poor Fina might as well have been branded with a scarlet letter. Plenty more fires left to put out once she’s out of prison. On the bright side, they’ll know whom they can trust and whom they need to keep hiding from.

Hopefully though, on to greener pastures at some point. Preferably healing at the Mafinca. Slowly but surely. And always, always together.