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#Wonder Woman/Tasmanian Devil
ginge1962 · 18 days
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Wonder Woman Tasmanian Devil #1 - August 2017, cover by Jim Lee.
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bulletblade · 2 years
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The Nothing: (Approches)
Woman Woman: HALT DEMON!
Nothing: (Turns)
WW: I am Wonder Woman of Themyscira and with me I bring the greatest and cheapest warriors money can buy such as Garnet of the Crystal Gems...
Garnet: I can see the futuuuuuure (DBZA reference)
WW: Norville "Shaggy" Rogers...
Shaggy: You want some weed, man...
WW: and the Tasmanian Devil...
Taz: @$%×#^*#%? (Translation: Can someone take me to get my rabies vaccine?)
WW: and together we are the JUSTICE LEAGUE OF MULTIVERSUS...and together we will e...
Nothing: (Absolutely destroys them)
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cherry-pop-elf · 1 month
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Cup Of Sugar
Deadpool x Reader x Wolverine
Authors Note: Since Yall finally see the beauty of Poolverine, you finally get some stupid fluff. Here ya go
Sum: You were neighbors with Blind Al, and that chaotic son of hers. Recently you’ve been hearing alot of noise, and figured you check on them both. Like a good neighbor. Seems to have been just the right time
Warnings: Fluff, canon typical violence, Logan and Wade being so gay in their own way, Blind Al being a total wing woman, dogpool aprecitation post, family fluff because god dammit Mama Blind Al and her sons boyfriend with their new dog domestic fluff is needed!
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“Will you two knock it off! I don’t need another damn couch in this house-!” You would hear Al shout. Not the first time, but the noise seemed so much more wild as of recent. Like some kind of badger was joining the party. Couldn’t help it with your worry. She was blind after all. So, here you are. Knocking on her door.
“Get along-! Well, or like STOP GETTING ALONG-!” You heard her snapping, before yanking the door open. “The hell you want?” She asked, before you would clear your throat.
“Hey Miss Althea-!” The moment she heard your voice she had softened into that motherly state she always had for you. Not many people in the complex really enjoyed her company, or her son’s, but you always took the time to say hi to her. Not treat her any less inferior because of her blindness.
“Oh hey baby! Come on in, get in here-!” She just beamed, and laughed. Happy to have someone new to talk to. Can get lonely, after all. From many of your conversations with her, when helping her take the groceries to her apartment, her son Wade was often on business trips. Nice to have some company.
Inside was certainly a chaotic mess. You swore someone ran around like a Tasmanian Devil in there. Pictures asque, cushions everywhere, a couch shredded like it was thrown in a blender. You were wondering what the hell happened. Was it a break in? Had you worried sick, before a bark caught your attention.
“PUPPY-!” You couldn’t stop yourself from squealing, as you knelt to the floor. Right next to the dog in her dog bed. All snuggled with plushies of what you guessed were her favorite heros, and seeming to be the one area of the apartment that escaped this fire. Least whoever attacked the home had some kind of morals.
“That ugly thing? That’s ’Mary Puppins’ as the dynamic duo calls them. She that ugly kinda cute. She always knows when you need someone to cuddle, that’s for sure. I ain’t complaining. Nice having company.” Al would explain to you, as you were hypnotized by her cuteness. Had her cradled in your arms, and giving her all the belly scratches.
“She’s perfect.” You cooed, as you gave her fluffy head a kiss. Had her barking happily at your attention. Seemed said barking finally got the attention of the two rascals in the home. A bickering of panic French was held, before you turned your head. As to see what the French was going on.
“Hey-“ A burly man would wave, before seeming to shove the other person into a bedroom. In some kind of mad panic, as if to hide them from you. For some reason.
“Oh, hey. Uh, hi.” You would stand up, Pup in hand, as you registered what you were looking at. He wasn’t the tallest man around, and honestly? Might be even shorter than yourself. Didn’t take away the fact he was built like a truck. Somehow all tucked away behind a torn up wife beater and jeans. Looked like he had been fighting someone with a set of knives. On top of knives. With more knives.
“That’s Logan. My kids new boyfriend.” Al would brush off casually, as she would find herself towards the couch. Just to sit there, and most definitely keep an ear out for the drama to happen now.
“We aren’t….It’s complicated-“ He tried to explain, before said Wade popped his cheery ass out. Having been in such a rush to join the party, he was wearing his shirt backwards. You would argue his boxers to, but a puppy keeps anyone’s attention.
“Oh hey! Peanut, that’s our neighbor. About time you met the sweetheart. Don’t do anything Logany. Or do, kinda a freak. Just saying-“ He would nudge at the shorter man, as said man rolled his eyes.
“Hey Wade-! When did you get this little girl? And uh, the hell happened here?” You were pretty used to Wades insanity at this point, hence why he called you a freak (in that sweet way endearing way) so maybe there was an explanation on all this.
“Thats Mary Puppens. The sweetest shit stain around. We got her from uh….A cousin. Passed away. Terrible terrible. Can’t have her left alone.” Wade would explain, as Logan would walk over. Gave the pup a gentle scratch under her chin that made her shake her leg just right. She clearly loved her new parents dearly.
“And the mess here?” You would raise a brow, before Wade tugged at his collar. That’s when he noticed it was backwards, and kept himself busy with fixing it. Left Logan to have to bite the bullet.
“….Redecorating…..” Logan offered, as you just stared at the two. A brow raised, as you didn’t buy it for a single second. You weren’t stupid. You weren’t going to fall for the ‘put on a hat and jacket and suddenly you can’t make out a superhero from a crowd’ trope. Something suspicious was going on.
“Just be direct, will ya?! If anyone can be trusted it’s gonna be that there sugar.” Al would practically scold the two little dumbasses. Just like a mother would to her so , and his boyfriend, who were trying to dance around a topic.
“Are you two super humans of some kind? You don’t have to tell me more. Just….Dont wanna worry about little Pup here and Al. Ya know?” That seemed to make Logan pause. As if your kindness, and realness, was a shock to have. A welcomed one, but you’ll still get caught off guard if you ate trash and suddenly had a pallet cleanser of lime sherbet shoved in your mouth.
“Do you mean super human as super human, or super human like mutant powers, or super human like experimented on, or super human like as a-“ And Logan promptly smacked the back of Wades head. Treating him like a skipping record. Had you giggle, since now you didn’t have to worry about the violence. Able to comprehend they just don’t feel pain like others.
“Super human is all that needs to be said, bub.” Logan warned him, as he held up his fist. You thought to punch, but you swore the top of his hand was twitching. Not like a muscle spasm. Way too uniformed. As if three veins were bulging. Maybe it was better not to question it.
“Now, why are you even here?” Logan would try his blunt coldness on you, but living next to the likes of Wade doesn’t really phase you. This was a world of super heros and inhumans. Can’t scare you that easy.
“Came to check on Miss Althea. Heard a ruckus, that was louder than normal, so I came to check.” That had Logan scoff. To hear you being so ‘brave’ and coming over to the source of the noise. A admiring ‘so dumb but in a brave way’ admiring.
“He’s still grumpy from the turbulence, if you will-“ Wade would jazz hands, as if knowing things that no one else shouldn’t. He always did act like that. As if he just knew how the world worked better than others. You found it more so endearing than creepy, like others did.
“Oh! New here? Well welcome! Oh, maybe I can show you around? Wade and I know some pretty cool places. Oh! There’s a dog park that’s built for dogs who need more special care than others. We can all go there with Miss Puppins!” You were rambling like Wade, but had the clarity of Logan. A beautiful combination. One that had the two men smitten.
“Fuck yeah we can go to the dog park. Get dressed, Showman, come on-!” And Wade was running off to get changed. The typical attire of hoodie, face mask, glasses. Just layering. You didn’t find his skin disgusting, but given the world’s issues with pandemic it can’t be helped.
“Great, now you got him started again-“ Logan would complain, yet was already grabbing his leather jacket. Complaining, yet clearly willingly excited all the same. Just in his own way.
“Would you like to join us, Miss Althea?” You asked her, which gave her a bit of a surprise. You wanted her to come along? She normally never tagged along on things like this. Yet, you offered. Even though most times she would say no. Not this time.
“Someone needs to make sure you assholes don’t get into more shit.” She smarted off, but was already standing. With the help of Logan, of course. Just in time for Wade to return.
“Come on disabled gang! Let’s go!” He would clap, as Logan just kept rolling his eyes. You yourself were excited, and leading the charge now. All with Miss Puppins happy in your arms. So happy to have a big family to take her on adventures.
Nothing more sweet than a happy pup.
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nolita-fairytale · 1 year
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give you my wild, give you a child | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x pregnant fem!reader oneshot
summary: your second trimester while pregnant with baby bear is way sexier than you expected.
warnings: smut, breeding kink, language, 18+ only, barely proofread.
word count: 3.7k
a/n: hi it's me with the second trimester sexapalooza smut i promised @starbritestarlite and @carmensberzattos. and with this new season, let me know if you want to be added to my carmy taglist!! i wrote this as a companion piece to the 'make my heart heart surrender' universe, specifically for the 'carmy as your baby daddy' headcanon/social media au series. anyways, i've been thoroughly enjoying season 2 and am sitting into the fact that i've created my own universe inside of their universe. god we love fanfic. anyways... this is nsfw so 18+ only.
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Today 2:21 pm
Carmy “my baby daddy” Berzatto: On the way home for lunch. 
You: Hurry, baby. 
Carmy “my baby daddy” Berzatto: You good, sweet girl?
Your reply is almost instant, and Carmy wonders what could possibly come next as he sees the three dots appear below your message, indicating that you’re still typing. 
It’s a link, his eyes widening as soon as it appears in his iMessage history with you. 
You: Hottest Sex Positions For Pregnant Women | Cosmopolitan 
Before he can notice that it feels ten degrees hotter in the room, that his face has turned cherry red, that his pants are beginning to feel unbearably tighter, he’s interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice. 
“You good, chef?” Marcus asks, as he passes by, noticing the red tones that have risen to Carmy’s cheeks. 
“Wh-, oh yeah!” Carmy answers, almost too quickly, as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. 
Marcus shoots him a strange look, examining his boss’ face. 
“Just uh… gotta go home for lunch.”
*
3:03 pm
“What took you so long?” you practically growl as soon as Carmy gets through the door. 
He hasn’t even had a chance to close it properly before you’re on him like a moth to a flame. Dressed in the cutest pair of white shortalls, you’ve been working from home all day – or rather, mindlessly clicking through your e-mail while waiting for Carmy to come home all day, your mind preoccupied with the fact that Carmy hasn’t been home to give you exactly what you want. 
What you need, may be the better description. 
It’s as if the spirit of Eros himself has taken you over, unable to focus properly as your rapidly changing body needs is practically screaming out for one thing and one thing only: 
To be properly and thoroughly fucked by the man that got you here in the first place. 
“I-,” he begins, attempting to explain that he was running a little behind and got caught up giving feedback to one of his new line cooks before your mouth is on his in an all-consuming kiss. 
Now that he’s here, you regret even asking him, careless for the why when it feels this good to have him pressed up against your body. Your lips are desperate, hungry, intense, as you tangle yourself into him. It’s as if you can finally relax, like you can finally take a breath, now that your husband is finally here. 
He lets out a little groan of surprise against your mouth, as if you’ve charged towards him like the sexual equivalent of a tasmanian devil. 
And in his defense, you have.
“Baby,” he whispers against your lips. “Should we-, can we even-, shouldn’t you be working?”
He’s not wrong. 
You should be working. 
But the unbelievable and insatiable need for sex – for sex with Carmy – is the only thing driving you these days, holding you hostage to its unbelievable and all-encompassing power. You’re like a woman possessed as you reluctantly pull away from him to put his mind at ease. Your lust-filled eyes look him over, his curls already wild from a long day at the restaurant, as you shake your head ‘no.’
“I finished all my work for the day and signed off early. Perks of being a start-up sellout,” your well-kissed lips inform him. 
Carmy’s head spins in response to your answer.
Maybe it’s the prospect of the sex. 
Maybe it’s the way it’s the way your mouth feels against him as you kiss down his jawline and his neck.
“Okay, but I gotta be back at the restaurant at 4:15,” he smiles in agreement, more than happy to oblige.
“That’s plenty of time,” you coo, nibbling on his earlobe.
This time it’s Carmy who initiates, using both of his hands to cradle your face before his mouth is over yours again. The kiss starts slowly this time as he inhales deeply, taking you in. You shift closer, pressing your slightly-rounder-these-days belly against his body once more. He moans, his hands immediately traveling down your body, to your hips as he breathes you in again, wanting nothing more than to stay like this with you forever. His touch ignites something in you and you allow yourself to surrender, lost in the feel of his hands against you. His hands are everywhere – your hips, traveling up your belly, dancing across your fuller-than-normal breasts – and finally the drawn-out unrest of your mind can finally find peace.
He’s starting to get used to this. 
And he’ll admit that he really, really likes it. 
Carmy changes positions with you so that he can press you up against the front door as you continue your passionate makeout. 
Your first trimester had been hell – mornings spent on the bathroom floor together while you hurled the contents of your stomach into the toilet, days where you barely had the energy to get out of bed, nights where you were too hot to sleep that all you could do was lay on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, frustrated tears pouring out of the corners of your eyes – your body undergoing the hardest reset of your life. 
So when the fog and tumultuousness of your first trimester subsided, it was a more than welcomed change – and in so many ways. You’ve traded mornings of flat ginger ale, saltines, and sympathetic back rubs, with mornings spent tugging on Carmy’s perfect curls while you cried out his name.
“You smell like sandwiches,” you giggle in between kisses. 
“Ah shit. I should shower,” he sighs, reluctantly. 
He knows your sense of smell has been heightened lately, and he can’t imagine that smelling like a spicy Italian sandwich would be much of a turn on for you. He begins to pull away, but there’s now way in hell you’re letting him go as you grab his hands in yours. 
"No, Carmy, I can't wait,” you whine, the sound of your voice the most needy, beautiful thing Carmy’s ever heard in his life. 
“You could join me,” he offers with a raise of an eyebrow, presenting a solution you can absolutely get behind. 
“Uh huh. Yes please,” you nod eagerly, a girlishness to the way you answer him. 
Please.
Your usage of the word’s got him harder than a rock and he loves this side of you. Your sex life had been great before the pregnancy, but there’s something different about it now. Something about how needy you’ve been – the only thing that can possibly quell the fire inside of you being him – has him unraveling at the seams. 
How could he possibly say no when he’s more than eager to give you exactly (and then some, if it’s up to him) what you want? 
Your fingers are still tangled in his, licking your lips as you add, “My baby daddy thinks of everything.”
Carmy shakes his head, tugging at your hands as he leads you towards the bathroom, mentioning that he still can’t get over the fact that you’ve chosen to call him that in front of everyone you’ve ever known. You remind him that it’s cute, and though he’s not sure he gets it, he lets you do it anyway because it makes you happy.
As you both reach the bathroom, you patiently wait as Carmy turns on the shower, running a hand through the stream of water to check the temperature. One minute he’s focused on the cool water coming down from the showerhead, and then next he’s caging you in between his body and the bathroom sink. 
“You miss me this much, pretty girl?” he murmurs dreamily, his hand trailing up your inner thigh. 
You nod, taking note of how perfectly his top lip fits in between yours. 
“Yes, baby. Thanks for coming home for lunch,” you manage to get out, in between desperate kisses. 
“No need to thank me,” he smirks, a newly-found confidence in his voice. 
His hands are tugging at the hem of your shorts, as if he could slide the overalls down your body this way, a small pang of frustration welling deep in his stomach as he realizes that’s not going to happen. He kisses you with a fervor that makes you dizzy, as Carmy fumbles with the straps of your overalls. Trying his best to unclasp one side, he tosses the strap over your back, a clang sounding out within the four walls of the small room as the metal of the claps hits the porcelain of the sink. 
Carmy lets out a groan as he tugs at the second strap, causing you to giggle. 
“These stupid things,” he huffs, a look of embarrassment running through his brilliant blues. 
“Here, baby,” you say, slipping one of your arms out of the tangled strap. 
He groans as soon as his eyes meet yours again, more than happy to help you out of these damn things.
He pulls the overalls down with a rigor that stops right as the overalls drop to your waist, revealing your white tank top – one that you’re not wearing a bra underneath. 
“Sweetheart,” he groans, his hands ghosting over where your nipples stand erect against the fullness of your breasts. 
“You been like this all day?” he mutters against your skin, leaning down to drag his mouth over your still-clothed breasts. 
“Mmmmhm. Needed you,” you moan, your eyes closing as you lose yourself in the pleasure he’s giving you. 
He’s so incredibly hard right now it’s not even funny. 
“Yeah?”
By the time you open your eyes again, Carmy’s on his knees, so gentle, so tender with the way he slides the rest of the piece of clothing over the bump that’s been growing inside of your belly.
“Yeah,” you confirm. 
You shimmy out of your overalls as Carmy jumps back to his feet, removing your tank so that the only thing you have left is the pair of panties you’re still wearing. Before he can kiss you again, you’re tugging off his shirt, a sacrifice, an offering to the bathroom floor. 
“Should be warm enough, yeah?” you ask, gesturing towards the shower. 
“Yeah,” he agrees with a nod, removing his shorts. 
You feel all the blood in your body rush south as you see how hard he is already, swallowing hard. Carmy helps you into the shower, like the gentlemen he is, and you hope that’s where the gentleness ends. 
Before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you towards him, wrapping one of your legs around his waist as the warm water begins to wash over the both of you. 
“I’m so sorry, pretty girl,” he hums as his nimble fingers slip between your legs. He groans as soon as he feels how goddamn wet you are. 
“Fuck, honey.”
“See? I told you I needed you, Carm,” you pant, letting out a high keening moan as he draws lazy circles around your clit. You’re already bucking your hips into his hand and he’s barely started touching you. 
"You're so sensitive. So responsive, sweet girl,” he teases you, as he drags his fingers through your folds. You are so unbelievably wet that he’s not sure how he managed to get so damn lucky. 
"I just want you to fuck me, Carm. I’ve needed it all day. I need you to make me feel good," you beg, completely lost in the way his fingers feel as he slides two into you already. 
It’s like his touch sets fireworks off in your brain, setting your nerves on fire as you cry out. 
"Yeah?” he taunts you, an almost amused tone in his voice as he sets the slowest rhythm. “Think that’s how we got here in the first place, pretty girl.”
"I know,” you whimper, moving your hips against his fingers for any kind of friction. For something more. For something faster. For something deeper. But at this rate, with how much he seems to enjoy teasing you, with how horny you are, you’ll take anything. 
“But nothing feels as good as you, Carm.”
Your words go straight to his dick and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to leave you alone ever again – might as well quit his day job in exchange for this all-day never-ending second trimester sexapalooza you both seem to be caught inside of. 
He’s practically choking on his words as he manages to ask you:
"What’s that, baby? Did you touch yourself while I was gone?" 
You nod pathetically, moaning as he buries his thick fingers deep inside of you. He pauses, feeling the way your walls pulse around him as he stays inside of you, wanting to memorize this moment forever. 
In any other circumstance, he’d make you fall apart on his fingers, and then his tongue before you even went there, but with your recent admission, he’s decided that he has to have you now. In one swift motion, Carmy pulls his fingers from you, releasing his grip on your leg, eliciting a whine at the loss of him. 
Before you can even protest, he’s turning you around in the shower, and you can feel his hard-on pressing against your backside as he pulls you close.
“Sweetheart, you can’t just say things like this,” he taunts you, playfully, as he drags his cock through your folds a few times. 
“Carm,” you whimper, bracing your hands against the shower wall. “Don’t tease.”
“What’s that?” he coos, pressing his thick tip against your clit. 
“I don’t think I can take it. Please, baby,” you whine, so desperate for him to be inside of you. You push your ass back against him, offering your body to him for the taking. 
“Fuck!” he grunts out, because he just can’t resist you like this. 
You let out a sharp cry, as Carmy pushes himself inside of you, finally giving the thing you’ve wanted all day long. 
Carmy sets a slow pace at first, burying himself all the way to the hilt, so that you can feel all of him – every single ridge, every single vein of his cock with each thrust – and with how sensitive, how turned on you are, you’re already seeing stars. His hands hold onto your waist, controlling the speed of your lovemaking, as you press your hands against the shower wall, bracing yourself. You want him everywhere, all around you, consuming you with every fiber of his being, as if all you can do is hold yourself up and let him know how good he’s making you feel. 
Carmy’s lips are on your neck, leaving love bites across your shoulders, murmuring sweet nothings about how well you take him and how good you feel. And then he’s speeding up the pace of each thrust, pulling you back towards him. His hands are all over you: pressing you back against his chest, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples as he takes care of you. 
His wife. 
The mother of his child. 
The love of his life. 
You turn your head just enough so that you can kiss him as Carmy’s hand reaches up to cup your face, making sure that he can kiss you properly too. This time you’re standing up taller, grinding against him, wanting to touch your husband more than you need to hold yourself up against the wall. Your hand slips behind you, grabbing at whatever parts of him that you can, bracing yourself against him, as if you could get Carmy even closer to you, while the other is guiding his across your body, your fingers tangled together. 
He’s perfect. 
This is perfect. 
It’s what you’ve been aching for all damn day. 
“I need you, Carm,” you moan into his mouth, as the consistent feel of him thrusting in and out of you has you delirious. 
"You have all of me, baby,” he reassures you in the tenderest tone of voice he can muster, his other hand resting just underneath your breasts as he fucks you. 
"More." 
"More?" 
He’s not sure what ‘more’ could mean at this moment, but the dirty talk is so hot that he’s more than willing to find out. He slows down his pace, dragging his cock in and out of you and the most delicious pace. 
"Yes,” you pant, pulling away from the searing kiss, your head hanging low. Your hands return to the shower wall as you arch your back, bending at the hips so that you can take him deeper as you add:
“I want to make you a daddy." 
His hips stutter for a second, caught off guard by what you’ve just said. 
"You-you are, sweetheart,” he chuckles, slowing his pace down for a moment as he watches himself disappear inside of you over and over again. 
“Carmy,” you groan, in response to his change pace. 
You’re grinding your ass against him, begging him to speed up, but his hands return to your hips, stopping you. 
The sight alone, and what you’ve just said, he thinks to himself, might kill him. 
You whine as Carmy brings his movements to a halt, trying to get him to fuck you again. But he can’t let what you’ve just said go unrecognized as he stills your hips. 
"What was that? You like walking around like this, hmm? Everyone knowing what I've done to you?" he asks you, holding your hips so that you can’t move.
You’ll give him anything to get what you want. 
Even if it means saying it again. 
“Yes, baby,” you sigh, and Carmy lets out another moan as you squeeze around him. 
“I want to make you a daddy. Just fuck me. Please.”
“Oh fuck,” Carmy mutters, knowing he’s not going to last much longer if you keep that up. 
He pulls out of you, and before you can protest, he’s slamming back into you in a way that makes you sob. He sets a brilliant pace this time, and you're arching your back, pressing your hands against the wall even harder – and all you can do, all you want to do, is take it. Hearing you chant his name over and over takes over him. He’s a man determined, with a single-minded focus on giving you exactly what you want. 
He’s reduced you to a moaning, mumbling mess, as you chase both of your orgasms. 
“Touch me, Carmy,” escapes your lips, and he’s more than happy to oblige, his fingers immediately coming to your clit. 
He’s so goddamn talented, using his cock and his hands to make you fall apart. 
You feel a familiar coil in your belly, and with the way you’re squeezing around him, Carmy can tell your close. 
“Come on, sweet girl. Go ahead and let go for me,” his voice sturdy, confident, strong. 
And seconds later, your eyes slam shut as you’re crying out his name, falling over the edge as your husband pulls the most delicious orgasm from your body. 
“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it.”
He’s right behind you – literally and figuratively – as Carmy’s thrusts become more erratic, finally letting go after exercising an impossible level of self control. He spills inside of you with a grunt, holding you against him as he pauses. 
Breathless, you throw your head back, grateful that his shoulder is there to catch you. With the slightest turn of your head, you’re able to kiss him, placing the gentlest kiss against the corner of his mouth before Carmy’s hand comes up to lift your chin towards him again, so that he can kiss you properly. 
“Holy shit, Bear,” you sigh, a sense of relief washing over you. 
“Yeah,” he pants, trying to catch his breath with you. 
You both take a beat, a moment to let your brains catch up with your bodies, just holding onto each other – savoring the way it feels to be in each others’ arms. 
“I should uh… I should probably still shower,” Carmy starts, beginning to come back down to earth. 
You turn back towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck, entertaining him with slow, lazy kisses in between words. 
“But why don’t you dry off and get into bed?” Carmy suggests, using a quiet yet direct tone, almost as if it’s an order. 
It’s as if he knows that, though the last orgasm he’d just given you had been world-rocking, there’s no way in hell you’ll be satiated today with just one. 
“Really?” you ask, hopefully with a giggle. 
“Yeah,” he nods. 
“Heard, chef,” you tease him, eliciting a playful eye roll from him. 
He releases you, giving you the time and space to wring out your hair and step out of the shower. 
And as you do what he says, he rewards you for it, spending the rest of the afternoon with his face buried between your legs until he’s ready to go again. 
*
“And we’ve got a special tonight. Lemon chicken piccata. We’re talkin’ major Berzatto family recipe, ok? So let’s make sure we’re talkin’ up, alright?” Richie announces, following it up with a reminder to all of his servers of the main talking point during tonight’s pre-shift meeting. 
Carmy thinks he’s been stealthy as he attempts to sneak back into the restaurant, considering he’s thirty minutes late. He feels lucky that since everyone is preoccupied with the pre-shift meeting that they couldn’t possibly notice him slipping in this late. He hears the meeting end, making a mental note that tonight’s mise has been done right, praying that tonight’s service goes smoothly. 
He has, afterall, been using up a lot of extra energy lately…. 
“Hey, Jeffrey. We were wondering when you’d be in tonight,” Tina comments, as she returns to the kitchen, ready to lead service tonight. 
“Oh uh, yeah. Sorry, got caught up with some stuff,” he mumbles, avoiding her gaze as he doesn’t have an excuse or a cover story. 
“Mmmhhhmmmm,” she sounds, passing him by, because it’s no secret what Carmen Berzatto’s been up to lately. 
“Yo, cousin!” Carmy calls out, in search of Richie. 
Carmy makes his way into the dining room, and as soon as Richie sees him, knowing what time it is – knowing that Carmy’s running late – he smirks. A blush runs over Carmy’s cheeks as Richie shakes his head with a laugh. 
It’s as if Richie can see right through him, and suddenly, Carmy’s feeling incredibly exposed.
Richie wags a finger at his cousin, his laugh beginning to build. 
“Ahhhh man, cousin,” he sighs, an amused look on his face as he continues. “No one warned ya, huh?”
“I-,” Carmy starts, searching for any and all excuses he could make up on the spot, to no avail. 
“Men can’t resist a pregnant woman. Sheesh. Enjoy it while you can, jagoff.”
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milolunde · 2 months
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can u list all the main guys and their roles in the tunes bc i only know daffy and bugs and lola kinda rly but no one else😞😞also is roger rabbit relevant at all to them
YES I CAN.
Bugs Bunny- THE Main Character. Young upstart that’s been the “clever funny snarky guy who always gets the upper hand and makes sure the other person feels like an idiot while he does” since the start. Has a gay charm about him that pisses people off when immediately when they enter proximity.
Daffy Duck- THE The Main Character… before Bugs. Was the one to get the upper hand with some hijinks and shenanigans and always win in the end, just without the “cool” edge. Until, of course, Bugs had to be the one to Always Win. This shifted him from a Silly Duck to a generally greedy jealous and spiteful person, especially when paired with Bugs. He’s recently returned to his role as The Silly Guy.
Lola Bunny- originally appearing in the first Space Jam as sex appeal I mean Bugs’ love interest. She could play basketball and didn’t like being called “doll” and that was it. I counted and she had about 10 lines and 3 scenes
In The Looney Tunes Show and Rabbit Run, she’s portrayed as a complete ditz. She’s stupid, airheaded, and lowkey a stalker to Bugs because she’s so unaware of things outside of herself. In Rabbit Run they toned down the stupid and stalker and just made her a ditz who wants to sell her perfume and I LOVE her.
In the second Space Jam she is a Strong Independent Woman… I truly can’t remember if she plays a role other than being a member of the team, but that’s because Space Jam 2 didn’t utilize their characters correctly. Though she’s not much more than a Strong Independent Woman, I super love her. She’s capable and strong… like, become an Amazonian Warrior capable and strong. Anointed by Wonder Woman herself. She also cares for her friends and cares for family and the love others share as she virtually throws away her life’s work to become a Warrior because she hears a dad pleading for her to help his kid… she’s also sporty. Like the first Space Jam, its core that she’s Sporty and Likes Basketball
Then she appears in one episode of Looniversity, the Tiny Toons spinoff Spinoff as a chef. And a surfer. And skate boarder. She’s the Everything-Woman and she makes it look incredibly easy because, for her, it is. She has a Dude Bro Chick voice which I lowkey don’t like, but she’s fun.
Over all, Lola was made to be Bugs Bunny’s Girlfriend, then got her own Thing in The Looney Tunes Show which developed further (and into a better character) in Rabbit Run… then they lost it because god forbid a woman be a ditz. Hey this became more about my opinion on Lola than about Lola but that’s because, in their attempts to make her not a shallow woman character they made her a shallow woman character
OKAY. Okay <3
Yosemite Sam- Rootin’ Tootin’ souther cowboy with anger issues and guns
Elmer Fudd- THE hunter and THE adversary of Bugs Bunny… though I always thought adversary wasn’t the right word, as it seems more like Bugs messes with Elmer for fun, not because he HAS to outsmart him to survive being hunted
Tasmanian “Taz” Devil- I’ve seen him majorly in Bugs Bunny cartoons and he doesn’t interest me that much so I’m not sure if he’s bigger in a different set of cartoons. He’s a tornado-spinning rampaging beast that can destroy anything in his path but isn’t very smart. Always outsmarted by Bugs but that’s usually solved with Taz eating whatever tomfoolery is set in front of him
Porky Pig- before Bugs Bunny and Elmer there was Daffy Duck and Porky. Typically the victim of Silly Duck Daffy’s silliness. Sometimes his partner in crime. In The Looney Tunes Show Porky is A Loser by trade and usually victim to Daffy being a bag of dicks, I was pleasantly surprised that is different from their other portrayals as a duo
Sylvester the Cat- sometimes a domestic cat, sometimes and alley cat, always chases tweety bird
Tweety Bird- yellow canary of suspicious gender. Has to outsmart Sylvester as a means of survival… but they have a Tom and Jerry relationship half the time where they’re super trying to kill each other but would be devastated if the other was actually gone
Granny- the sweet old lady who either owns Sylvester or Tweety or Both depending on the cartoon. Also the “sweet but tough” grandmother trope. In The Looney Tunes Show she and tweety fought the Germans at war in France
Wile E. Coyote- silent coyote who uses ACME products to try and catch the Road Runner on Route 66
Was also in some Bugs Bunny cartoons where he did speak. Was a self proclaimed genius (“Wile E. Coyote. Geeeenius.”) and inventor. I haven’t seen media outside of Bugs Bunny cartoons where he speaks other than using signs
Road Runner- says meep meep, is fast and blue, and doesn’t even have to outsmart Wile E. It’s in their unwritten-written rules that Wile E. is thwarted by his own incompetence
Marvin the Martian- funny little guy who wants to take over earth for mars
Foghorn Leghorn- so like he’s The Rooster on this farm and he wants to fuck all the chickens and has some crazy Hero Syndrome about it, putting the farm in danger to prop himself up what a virgin
Pepe Le Pew- he’s a skunk that harasses Penelope because he thinks she’s also a skunk. He smells bad and is also French. His whole thing is he’s a diehard swoon French romance man but Penelope Does Not Like Him also he fucking stinks; I haven’t seen media where this is different
Penelope Pussycat- gets harassed by Pepé Le Pew because she’s a black and white cat and he thinks she’s a skunk. Sometimes she gets to beat the shit out of him <3
There was a short they used to show in theaters before movies called Carrotblanca, a parody of Casa Blanca, where Penelope is Bugs’ ex-lover who finds him again by pure chance. Their relationship left Bugs an actual alcoholic and disturbed to the point of he heard a single note of the piano of a certain song he’ll flip out- the song is Penelope’s favorite… worth mentioning as we’ll that Daffy is there with him as he RELAPSES INTO ALCOHOLISM BECAUSE PENELOPE IS THERE and threatens to kick he out when she comes pleading to Bugs for help. She kicks his ass, so… Anyway, she and Bugs end up together again at the end of the short, kissing beneath a parachute and dancing in an empty airport … lot…
As for Rodger Rabbit.
No
That guy means nothing to the Looney Tunes, BUT the Looney Tunes DO mean something to Rodger. Who Framed Rodger Rabbit is (almost) entirely stand alone, referencing and parodying both WB and Disney cartoons and characters.
In the crazy ass Meta Verse Actor World of Looney Tunes, the closet relationship Rodger has to any of the Looney Tunes is that he might work on the same set sometimes, Jessica Rabbit might be a performer, and whatever the movie e Who Framed Rodger Rabbit means to the characters depending on if you view it as a movie where the characters played roles or as events that happened to the characters that is only a movie in real life…
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shutupptara · 5 months
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Okay but mearsy (I MISS YOU!!!) and colby calling this avs game w Superman and wonder woman and Tasmanian devil.. this is everything
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ironbloodaika · 7 years
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DC Meets Looney Tunes
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The Legion of Super-Heroes always thought they had taken their inspiration from the 21st Century's Superboy. But when they try to bring that hero into their future time, the team discovers to their surprise the caped champion isn't who—or even what—they expected! And the bonus Looney Tunes backup story features DC characters with story and art by Juan Ortiz!
Legion of Super-Heroes/Bugs Bunny Special Full
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Wile E. Coyote travels to the far reaches of space to hire Lobo to hunt down and kill his greatest nemesis of all time, the Road Runner. And when the Coyote and Lobo are after him, the Road Runner knows if they catch him—he’s through. And the bonus Looney Tunes backup story features DC characters with story and art by Bill Morrison!
Lobo/Road Runner Special Full
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Martian Manhunter tries to halt Marvin the Martian’s determination for world domination. J’onn is conflicted with his own Martian identity as he attempts to stop the hapless, determined Marvin from blowing Earth to bits in order to gain a clear view of Venus. And the bonus Looney Tunes backup story features DC characters written by Jim Fanning with art by John Loter! 
Martian Manhunter/Marvin the Martian Special Full 
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After a chance meeting with billionaire Bruce Wayne, Elmer Fudd’s obsession quickly escalates into stalking Batman through the dark alleys and high-class social settings of Gotham City. Welcome to Bat Season! And the bonus Looney Tunes backup story features DC characters written by Tom King and artwork by Byron Vaughns. 
Batman/Elmer Fudd Special Full 
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Not since the twelve labors of Hercules has a Greek warrior faced as great a danger and as destructive a peril as the Tasmanian Devil! And the bonus Looney Tunes backup story features DC characters with story by Tony Bedard and art by Ben Caldwell!
Wonder Woman/Tasmanian Devil Special Full
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When miner Yosemite Sam strikes it rich, word gets out as everyone comes gunning for his wealth! To protect himself and his new riches, he hires bounty hunter Jonah Hex but the man protecting him may be his worst nightmare! And the bonus Looney Tunes backup story features DC characters written by Bill Matheny and artwork by Dave Alvarez.
Jonah Hex/Yosemite Sam Special Full
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dailydccomics · 2 years
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Wonder Woman cover art by Jim Lee + Alex Sinclair
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clare-with-no-i · 3 years
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Hello clare!! For the AU mashup thing: jily for 100 + 6
congratulations, this became a whole one-shot LOL. it’s a silly little thing and not worthy of posting on AO3, but…
tropes: bookstore AU and unexpectedly saving the day
A woman enters the bookshop through the old, glass-paneled front door, which is a very normal thing for a woman to do.  
What is not as normal is the way through which she enters it; nor the series of actions she performs shortly thereafter.
James is ringing a customer up for their murder mystery—a Michael Chabon novel, with a violently blue cover and the classic Chabon dilemma of not enough paper to hold the bombardment of Nabokovian descriptions he tries to fit in every other sentence—when a woman throws open the door to the bookshop and rushes inside.  The movement of her entrance is so quick and violent that it nearly appears as an action movie flash-cut.  One moment, the shop is quiet, complete serenity save for the slotting of paper bills into the register and the shuffling of books into paper bags; the next, there she is, and the only evidence that she hasn’t simply sprung from thin air is the startled jingling of the overhead bell and the way her red hair swishes over her shoulder, settling belatedly across her skin like a handprint of splintered sunset.
Huh.  Maybe Chabon isn’t so unreasonable, after all.
“That’ll be four pounds in cha—” James’s sale cuts off at the cacophony, and he pauses, gaze snapping to the door before he raises his volume to address the Tasmanian devil standing on his welcome mat.
“Er.” He clears his throat. Chabon Buyer holds his hand out, eyes on the four quid James is apparently withholding.  James ignores him. “Can I…help you?”
The woman looks over at him so suddenly he worries she might have cricked her neck.  He then wonders if she’s yet had time to breathe in between her various rushings.
“Oh, thank god!” She gasps, and James has to force himself not to ask what could have spurred such enthusiasm on her part—was she expecting to enter an unmanned store? Or was she, perhaps, just in the market for a handsome bookstore clerk to sweep her off her feet, and has been accosting every local bookseller until she could find one to her liking?
That second one seems unlikely, but a bloke can certainly dream.
She rushes over to the register, where Chabon Buyer has made the executive decision to grab the money out of James’s hand and make a heel-turn toward the door. Normally, James would worry that he might have just lost a customer, but the man’s been coming in every other day to ask about his order of the newest Michael Lewis release, so James is relatively certain he’ll be back until it comes.
Which it will, right after James decides to order it.
Anyway.
The pretty red-haired woman—for now that she’s within close range, it’s quite obvious that she really is very pretty, which is annoying and disarming and also doubly thrilling—stops in front of the register, a fact that inspires some measure of relief in James, because she’s been working at such a velocity up until now that it’s possible that she could just walk straight through the mahogany desk without even blinking.
“Hi,” she breathes, placing her hands on the desk, “sorry for the rushed entrance.”
“I didn’t even notice,” replies James—in the way that liars often do—with a grin. “How can I help you?”
“Well, the thing is…” she leans forward, and he does the same, partially out of interest in whatever it must be she’s looking for, and partially out of a more general, certainly-not-physical interest that begs for proximity. “I really, really need your help.”
“With…a book?”
“Yes.  No.  Well, kind of.”
“If you’re looking for kind of books, I can direct you to celebrity autobiographies in aisle four.” James sits back a bit on his heels to point diagonally across the store. “I’m reluctant to call them books at all, but it’s been explained to me that I’m not actually the arbiter of those things.”
The woman’s lips quirk, but she shakes her head, and her red hair swings to-and-fro, a soft swirling wave of crimson.
“It’s a bit of an odd case, I’ve got to admit.”
This piques James’s interest. “What do you mean?”
“Well…” She trails off and turns around to to examine the store for a brief moment, as though trying to suss out nearby eavesdroppers. “So, this guy I know wrote a book, and he, er—well.  He, um…dedicated it to me?”
“Oh.” James clears his throat and straightens slightly.  Having a book dedicated to you is quite a big deal—she’s probably here to buy up every copy he has in print, lug them back to this guy in thanks, and then otherwise shower him in affection.  Not that James should care, of course, having only met her mere minutes ago.  And really, past a passing acknowledgement of how objectively appealing she is and an interest in whatever might have brought her so blusteringly into his shop, there’s really nothing that notable—
“…So I need to find every copy you have and tear out the dedication page.”
Wait.  What?
The woman laughs, which leads James to believe that he’s just said that thought out loud.  But it really isn’t an irrational response to what she’s said, because…what?
“I know, I know.  Weird.”
One of James’s hands—possibly of its own volition and completely independent of any messaging from his brain—shoots up into his hair and gives it a futile ruffle.  He realizes that he’s standing stock-straight and, therefore, slightly towering over this woman, so he leans back down to rest both arms on the desk.  
“No,” he says, attempting to be casual with an approximately equal level of futility as the earlier hair-ruffling, “not at all.  Er.  May I ask—”
“Why?” She cuts him off blithely, and then she takes a deep breath; as though in preparation to launch into a winding Shakespearean monologue.  It occurs that she’s probably run through this explanation multiple times.  In fact, he’s a bit tempted to phone up the other book shops in this part of London and ask, any chance you were ambushed by a redheaded woman with a very strange request?
“I was going to ask your name, actually,” he hears himself saying. “But I’ll take a backstory as well.”
The woman pauses, brows drawing together.
“My name?”
Might as well double-down.
“Just to make sure it isn’t something like The Great London Book Vandal.”
She laughs loudly at this—mission accomplished—before recovering quickly to shoot him a mock-skeptical look. “Would be a bit self-importing to call myself The Great at anything, don’t you think?”
“Depending on how good you are at vandalizing books, I don’t think so.”
“Also—would I really want to announce myself like that? Especially to a proprietor of books, the thing which I’m being accused of vandalizing?”
“I hardly think it’s an accusation when you literally just said you wanted to do exactly that.”
“Yes, but to a specific book.  Not just willy-nilly; I’m not a monster!”
“Alright.  So, The Particular London Book Vandal, then.”
“The Vendetta-Based London Book Vandal.”
“Seeker of Literary Justice and Destroyer of Dedications.”
“Lily for short, though.  For brevity’s sake.”
Grinning, James sticks his hand out.  She’s funny—and now, odd request notwithstanding, she’s already his favorite customer of the day.  She sticks hers out and they shake, though she abandons it early to tilt her head and peer at his name-tag.
“James, then?”
“The one and only.”
“The one and only…James? Like, at all?”
“In the immediate vicinity.” He pauses. “As far as you know.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
The two settle into a comfortable silence.  It’s still early, and the shop is largely empty, save for a few regulars reading in the various cushioned nooks scattered throughout the store.  James is content just to observe his new acquaintance for a moment, before she clears her throat and straightens.
“So—I do want to explain why I’m here, actually…”
“Oh—” he’d nearly forgotten, “—right, right.  So, you want to tear out a dedication…for you?”
Lily places her hands flat on the desk, shoulders rolling back.  Ostensibly bracing for whatever it is she’s about to say. “Right.  So, I know this bloke—we used to be friends for ages, actually, until he became a dickhead—”
“That will usually put a damper on a friendship.  Or so I hear.”
“—Right, yeah.  So we haven’t spoken in ages, and then the other day I get this package in the post, and it’s a fucking book he’s written! The dickhead! He wrote a book!”
“How dare he. Dickheads can’t write books.”
“Oh, just you wait!” Lily throws her hands up, eyes blazing. “So I figure ‘what the fuck, might as well,’ and I open it—and then I see that it’s, like, this weird pseudo-memoir about the two of us, but then the two characters in it end up reconciling because the woman realizes she’s been wrong about the protagonist and has been misjudging him, and, ugh, god, it just makes me so angry—I barely got through half, had to look up the synopsis on Wikipedia! And then I look at the front and the fucking bellend has dedicated it to me! ‘To Lily Evans, My Lost Connection!’ Right fucking there in black and white!”
The further she gets in her speech, the further James’s jaw lowers in shock.  By the end, he can only stare as she gesticulates with her hands, his mouth hung open and his eyes so wide they begin to water.
“You’re…having me on,” he says, weakly.
“But I’m not, James!” She rebuts, and the way she says his name sounds so familiar, like they’re old friends rehashing a well-worn argument.  He likes it—even in consternation. “I’m really not!”
“I’m so horrified I don’t know what to do with myself.” James takes off his glasses and rubs them on his shirt.  Finally, he blinks. “I think my horror is horrified.”
Apparently pleased with his shared dismay, Lily folds her arms over her chest and nods: I told you so.
“I told you so.”
Well, it seems like he’s already good at reading her body language.
He’s arrested in his reply as a thought hits him: “Have you been…going around to all the local bookstores to do this?”
“Er…” she hums sheepishly, “is it that obvious?”
“Only to us veteran booksellers.”
“I just—ugh!” Lily fumes. “It’s just so infuriating! No one will let me take out the page; it’s not like it’ll decrease in value, anyway! The book’s already shite!”
James has to laugh at this. “What’s it called? So I can leave a scathing review, that is.”
“The Triumph of the Half-Blood Prince by Severus Snape.”
“The…Triumph…of the—”
“Don’t ask.”
“Noted.”
“So…” Lily pauses, “will you let me take out that heinous and unjust dedication in this book which never should have made it to print?”
It’s adorable that she thinks there was a chance he was going to say ‘no.’
But, in order to keep up some level of appearance, he taps a finger to his chin in thought, doing his absolute best to look pensive.  He imagines that the glasses help by significant measure.
“Well, when you put it like that—”
James doesn’t even have time to finish his thought before she’s jumping up-and-down in victory, hair bouncing across her shoulders.  She pumps a jubilated fist in the air: “YES!”
“Alright, Rocky.  You’ll want to head to aisle seventeen; the shite section.” He walks around the desk to point toward the back of the store, before turning to look back at her and damn near freezing in place.  This close, her eyes are downright startling—a shade of emerald that gleams in the morning sun.
He doesn’t have a lot of time to look, though, because she turns her attention toward her small tote, from which she procures (after a small bit of shuffling) a violently red magic marker.  Upon its appearance, she straightens, the previously-charming gleam in her eye now somewhat…terrifying.
“Thank you!” Lily yelps before speeding off toward the chosen aisle—apparently, her earlier zooming tendencies have awoken once more for the prospect of defacing this Snape guy’s book.  Her figure retreats quickly, swallowed up by towering shelves and muted tones of hardcover books.
“Wait!” He calls, and then, once she turns, realizes he has nothing else to say.
So he thinks quickly: “Do you want any help?”
She smiles widely, like she was waiting for him to ask, and the power of it inspires a mirrored grin on James’s own face, something he’s helpless but to let form.  He wishes he had a better talent for descriptors, like Nabakov or even James Joyce.  But all he can think is: it’s brilliant.  Her smile is brilliant.
“Well,” she shrugs, though her face is alight with humor, “I suppose The Great London Book Vandal could take on an apprentice.”
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dcmultiverse · 7 years
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Wonder Woman - Tasmanian Devil Special 2017
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nightwishesworld · 3 years
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Life of Death
You’re gonna need tissues for this one folks! A huge thank you to @addictedtodinosaurs for allowing me to write this wonderful headcannon! Hope you guys enjoy!
Warning: Angst. Whole lot of angst 
It hasn’t even been a day since Alcina’s world collapsed. Ethan Winters managed to flee Castle Dimitrescu with his life and topple the hierarchy Mother Miranda worked so hard to achieve. Everyone is gone; Angie, Moreau's house, Mother Miranda, even her baby brother Karl. They never stood a chance after the fall of the great Mother Miranda. Without her protection, they were left helpless. Of course, Ethan only saw them all as monsters; filthy bloodthirsty creatures that needed to be slain. That’s all anyone ever saw them as. They’re different so that must mean they’re wrong. They’re abnormally different from anything I’d ever seen so that automatically means they’re evil.
But they’re still a family. Lucky for Alcina, she never let herself depend on anyone other than herself. Well, except for her daughters.
She was wandering around the ruins of the castle in search of them. They were nowhere to be found since Ethan escaped. It was a grueling task but obviously, one that needed to be done. They need their mother’s tender love and care to nurse them back to health.
Cassandra was the first to be found. Naturally, she was found within the comfort of her basement. Where else would that silly girl be hiding? Just like Daniela, her bleeding seemed to have majorly stopped on its own. So all that was left for Alcina to do was bathe her and bandage her wounds. Alcina carried her upstairs to her bedroom slowly and carefully to not make her feel any sicker to her stomach. From there she bathed her and wrapped whatever wounds she had in delicate cloth before putting her to rest in her bed. Alcina tousled her wet hair before leaving in search of the rest of her brood.
Daniela was the easiest to find. She was left lying face down in the parlor soaked in a pool of her own blood. Her body was riddled with bullet holes to the point where her abdomen resembled Swiss Cheese. Alcina was quick to scoop her up and bring her upstairs to tend to her wounds. Until she got Daniela in the bath she used the ends of her dress to put pressure on her abdomen. Just like Cassandra, her bleeding seemed to have majorly stopped on its own. So all that was left for Alcina to do was bathe her and bandage her wounds.
Picking each individual bullet out of her body was an uphill battle, but Alcina was the eventual victor. Even better, she managed to not disturb her youngest’s slumber as she patched her up. Daniela was now free to rest as much as she needed in the sanctuary of her mother’s bed.
“What a mess we’re left with, hm? Don’t you worry about a thing my little Tasmanian Devil, Mother’s here now. I’ll protect you.”
The girls remained motionless as Alcina tucked Daniela in next to her sister.
Alcina watched as her little bundles of joy rested comfortably under the warm blankets and plush pillows. They look so sweet and at peace. It was rare for the matriarch to see them like this, but it always brought a smile to her face.
“You just rest now, my lovelies. I’m going to go find your sister so she can rest easy as well.” Alcina bends down and kisses each daughter on the forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
It took a few hours of searching to find her eldest daughter. Doing countless laps around the castle finally brought Alcina to explore the labyrinth of hidden passageways. There were a few times when said passageways brought her right back up to her bedroom. She wasn’t complaining too much though. Every time it happened she simply checked on her girls and reminded them how much she loves them.
Bela was by far the hardest to find. The sounds of scurrying behind a row of bookcases alerted Alcina to her presence. Following a single passageway eventually led Alcina to find the blonde buried from the chest down in rubble. The tunnel had collapsed from then on.
Alcina made quick work of removing the rock and rubble from her daughter's body. Rats fled back into their holes as she did so. The eldest Dimitrescu never moved even an inch. It took a while, but Alcina did manage to get her out in one piece. She whispered promises of a warm bath and offered to deep clean the dirt and dust out of her hair.
Bela couldn’t respond but Alcina knew she heard her. She could still sense her. She could sense all of them. They’re just weak, that’s all. They need as much rest as they can get.
It’s late evening by the time all three girls are bathed and tucked into bed. They were dressed in clean clothes and had their bandages changed again before Alcina crawled carefully into bed with them. She made sure to be extra careful when nudging them out of the way so she was in the middle; Bela on one side and Cassandra and Daniela on the other. Her arms wrapped around them all snugly.
It reminds Alcina of all the times the girls would burst into her room when they were little during a thunderstorm. All four of them would cuddle up just like this under the covers and either sing to them or read them a story.
“Tomorrow is a new day, my loves. We will start anew and we’ll be stronger than ever. I hope you sleep peacefully.”
The next morning comes slowly for Alcina. It’s quiet for once as the girls aren’t awake to cause mischief. Aching in her back and arms keeps her from stretching out. She smiled when she feels the girls are still snuggled up close to her.
“Good morning my darlings,” she says with a yawn. “How are we feeling today?”
Alcina kisses each daughter on the cheek and chooses not to notice how much more pale they were this morning. And certainly doesn’t recognize how stiff they were. She simply chalks it up to sleeping uncomfortably. After all, even she woke up with an aching back. Her arms wrapped around them must have really bothered them.
“It’s alright, girls. Take all the time you need to recover. You’ve been through quite the ordeal and need as much rest as you can get. I understand that. Mommy will be waiting for you right here to wake up. I’ll be the first thing you see when you open your bleary little eyes.”
The family lounged for the better half of the morning. Alcina takes her time stroking the hair of each of her girls’ hair and whispers words of comfort to them. “You’re so brave, my loves. And so strong; stronger than Mommy could ever hope to be.”
She notices a rather putrid smell coming from Daniela. One not caused by uncleanliness or a rotten meal, but something else entirely. Her immediate response is to change her bandages again, but can’t help but notice how pale Daniela had become overnight. Her lips were turning a shade of blue and the rest of her skin looked sickly. So did Cassandra and Daniela. Perhaps this is worse than simply recovering from injuries? Maybe....maybe they really were-
Alcina shook her head. They’ll wake up. Of course, they’ll wake up! They just need to rest extra long before they can really start to recover. So what if they get worse before they get better? At the end of the day, all that matters is that they do wake up. Then it’s smooth sailing from there.
The silence is suffocating. She feels the chill in her blood, coldness bringing the synapses of her brain to a standstill. Part of it is a pain, but one Alcina can endure. One she has to endure; for the sake of her daughters.
While she waited, Alcina called for a maid, the only one left, to fetch some documents from her private study that needed her attention.
They didn’t actually need her attention, of course. With the demise of Mother Miranda, the document's importance was nullified. But Alcina Dimitrescu is not the type of person to just sit around and do nothing. Especially when there are so many important things to do.
As soon as the maid steps into the room she understands what’s happening. She went through something strikingly similar when she had her miscarriage some years ago. Reality is a cruel plane of existence. Especially when you lose someone you loved suffering it with. It’s plain to see that her mistress is grieving her losses and she doesn’t have the heart to break whatever fantasies Lady Dimitrescu has built-in her head.
Instead, she chooses to play along. Delusional or not this was still Lady Dimitrescu, the woman will kill her if she tells her anything other than what she wants to hear. She gives a kind smile and curtsy to her Mistress and simply dies as she’s asked.
“Shall I fetch you some wine, My Lady?”
Alcina thought about it for a moment. It has been over 24 hours since she last fed and she was certainly craving sustenance. But ultimately decides against it in favor of her daughters.
“No. Keep what we have left safe for when my daughters wake. They’ll need their strength more than I’ll need mine.”
The maid waits a minute before trying again. She looks over at the girls still laying in bed. It’s obvious they are no longer there. She could smell the evidence of that from across the room.
“Very well, Lady Dimitrescu. I could send up a platter of-“
“Enough,” Alcina shouts but quickly catches herself from continuing. The girls don’t need to be disturbed by such a trivial matter. “Go make yourself useful and clean my daughters’ rooms. They’ll want them spotless when they wake up.”
The maid simply bows her head. “Of course, my Lady. Please forgive me.”
The next two weeks went on like this before the maid had enough. She wanted to help her mistress, she truly did, but there was nothing left for her here anymore. The last scraps of human food were officially gone and there was no reason to trek down to the village and come all the way back when she could just as easily take up residence down there. It was a gut-wrenching decision but it had to be done. She tried her best for Lady Dimitrescu and that’s all that mattered.
She slipped away in the dead of night. Normally the Lady would have any escapees hunted down and dragged back up to the castle only to be thrown in the basement. But there was no one to do that anymore. Heisenberg and his pack of lycans had perished long ago, even before the Lady’s daughters, and the Lady was too drained of emotions to care. Too weak to chase after her.
Alcina’s daughters are her everything. Every day she lived for them. She lived because of them.
Alcina took great pride in her tall stature. She is the image of beauty and elegance. The only real flaw in her design is its role in hunting down prey. You’d have to be blind or stupid to not see her coming after you. Even with her much larger strides, she wouldn’t be able to keep up. And Alcina Dimitrescu does not run. Prey is not worth running for.
So she depends on her daughters to hunt for her. They’re much more suited for the job; so young, and clever, and agile. They are her cubs and her, their lioness, too old to keep up with the hunting party.
Alcina looks at her girls and sees them as they truly are; dead. Lifeless corpses. Their bodies are decaying and cold. She has been changing the bed sheets every morning to keep away the maggots but failed to stop all of them. The smell of death is noxious even with all the windows open because Bela said she wanted to feel the crisp winter breeze.
“My girls,” Alcina sobs. “What have I done to you?”
She collapses at their bedside and finally allows herself to break down.
But looking up at them she still feels them. She can still feel their arms wrap around her shoulders as she cries. The smell of paint is still on Cassandra’s cloak and Daniela was sitting on the floor right next to her. The short ends of red hair tickled Alcina’s cheek. If they were truly gone, how is it she can still feel Bela kiss the top of her head and wrap her arms around her neck in an embrace?
“I never should have done this. How can I be so selfish? I never should have turned you to suffer as I have.” A new wave of tears blurred her vision. “What kind of mother am I?”
She knows she doesn’t have long now. How can she bring herself to care? Everyone she ever cared about was already gone. What’s the point of trying to survive without her dearest family, especially when she’s so close to being reunited. Alcina wiggles her way back under the covers and pulls her daughters close once more. She’s crying in earnest now, happy that her pain is almost over. Even now she can see her daughters playing together, maybe even with Uncle Karl somewhere in the far off distance.
A smile spreads to Alcina’s lips as she closes her eyes and simply waits for her turn to join in on the fun.
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Superman & Bugs Bunny #4 cover. DC Comics, 2000. Layout by Joe Staton. Finishes by Tom Palmer & Mike Decarlo.
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draconian62 · 7 years
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Wonder Woman - Tasmanian Devil
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dramaqueeenamby · 3 years
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Waves: Quarantine
A/N: It's been way too long since I've done something for the Wavesverse, and I apologize deeply. I have a few requests related to this series to complete, but I couldn't knock this idea.
Words: 4K
Warnings: None
Tags: @babe-im-bi @notacamelthatsmywife @missyperle @queenoftheworldisdead @tashawar @valkryienymph @letsshamelessqueen-m @hello-therree @mani-lifes @liquorlaughslove @toni9 @koko-michelle @theequeenofcurses @taylortheeshowpony
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Waves
Summer placed her phone inside of the mount and made sure that it was secured before she sat back in her bed, getting comfortable with the mass of pillows supporting her back, and smiling tentatively. “Hi, guys.”
Summer!
Someone tell me this isn’t a joke???? Please???
She lives!
Sis, blink twice if you need help.
Summer rolled her eyes. “Ya’ll better stop. I know it’s been a minute since I’ve hopped on live, but it hasn’t been that damn long.”
Summer continued to read the comments where more than a few people pointed out she hadn’t gone live on Instagram in over three months. Her mouth dropped. “Ya’ll lying. It has not been almost six months, has it?” She placed her hand over her mouth when people started dropping dates in the comments. “Okay, I stand corrected. Damn, I’m sorry, guys.”
Don’t be sorry, bestie. Do better!
Damn, ya’ll are so entitled. Celebrities have lives too.
What life? We all been in quarantine.
Rich people quarantine be different from us poor folks, I guess.
“So that’s actually one of the things I wanted to talk about.” Summer cleared her throat. “And I’m going to try really hard to make sure I word what I want to say as clear and as effective as I can, but I know this is still going to end up as a salacious headline. So, it is what it is.”
Oooh, Summer about to drop some tea.
I don’t see her wedding ring, ya’ll…..
I’m scared omg.
Watch this be nothing but a role announcement.
She shrugged and took a deep breath. “Okay, so a few days ago, I did the Buss It challenge, after being harassed by Sanda. And can I just say that filming was a challenge in and of itself? Not necessarily the movements but preparing? I’ve got two kids, twins, who are like the Tasmanian devil. I was literally up at 3 something in the morning trying to record it because my wild children won’t let me be great.” She chuckled. “Kids are something else.”
Summer truly jumped through hoops and was a damn near acrobat trying to figure out when she could not only get herself done up but actually record the challenge. Being the perfectionist that she was didn’t help, but the fact that she couldn’t recall the last time she’d put on makeup and dressed up was a whole other fiasco.
Quarantine definitely brought out her bum side.
“All of that aside, I truly was satisfied and happy with the final product when I posted it. In hindsight, I should have just left it that, but I wake up every day and choose chaos, so I decided to read the comments.” She blew out a breath. “One of the most frequent comments and really, insults, I’ve received my whole career. Primarily, since I was cast as Storm, revolves around how I look. I.e., my weight. I’ve been called fat, obese, out of shape, and so many other things.”
It was 100% true. The minute Marvel announced that she’d been chosen to play Storm, the racists came all out of the woodworks. She was too short, too chubby, too dark, too black. And Summer didn’t care, not a bit.
“Even,—and I’ll tell you guys this, when I first started my SS training, that’s what I call it, SS for Storm Shape, there was a—person who worked for Marvel at the time who came to visit me while I was training.” She smiled thinking back on that day. She could still recall it so clearly. “He basically was pissed because to him, I still looked the same, fat and out of shape.” She adjusted her top and shifted in her bed. “That same day, I deadlifted and bench-pressed over 200lbs” She paused for effect. “What I need for people to stop doing is stop fucking projecting—and I’m going to cuss in this, so if you don’t like it, oh well. I work for Disney, but I’m a grown ass woman, and I’m going to say what I want.”
I am screaming. Summer said we getting alll the tea today!
So, it’s wrong to point out that someone is physically unhealthy now, cool?
The problem is that no one wants to see a fat superhero. It’s not realistic.
^^^^ Tell me you have a small dick without actually telling me you have a small dick.
“I saw Lizzo, whom I adore, post a Tik Tok where she basically said that she workouts to have the body she wants not what ya’ll want, and honestly? Same. She said that her body type is no one’s fucking business, and that’s so true. Ya’ll love to hop on this internet and pick apart people you don’t even know and criticize bodies you don’t even have to live in and move around with. And for what?” She shook her head, slamming her fist into her open palm as she spoke. She was fully invested now. “I know we in quarantine, but damn, pick another hobby cause being a bully is not it, sweetie.”
I really needed to hear this today.
Using Lizzo as a point of reference makes everything you’re saying null and void. Lizzo is clearly overweight and at risk for diabetes, heart disease, just to name a few…..
I been saying this! You can’t look at a person and say they’re unhealthy.
Bodies come in so many forms, and all are beautiful.
“Now, I bring all this up because a lot of people were commenting on my Buss It challenge and pointing out the fact that I’ve gained weight, and guess fucking what? I have, and you know what else?” She leaned over to whisper while covering her mouth with her hands for focused effect. “I don’t care.”
Summer laughed and shook her head. “As others have pointed out as well, yes, we have a gym in our house. I 1000% acknowledge the fact that having the resources that I do as a celebrity and someone who has money puts me in a different category. Hell, my husband has a whole fitness app. I recognize that. If I wanted to keep up with my workouts, emphasis on wanted, I could have. I own up to that, but I just didn’t feel like it, and that’s okay. What’s not okay is to send and leave mean messages calling me all kinds of names.”
Summer had thick skin. She always had. Growing up with her family, who always ensured to feed her self esteem and make sure she knew that she was beautiful, definitely paid off. It was just a combination of quarantine and not having a lot of opportunities to keep herself busy with work that had her feeling some type of way.
“And that’s something else I wanted to bring up.” She blew out another breath and tried to gather her emotions. This was the subject she was almost certain she’d grow teary eyed discussing. “I love my husband to death. My children are everything. Christopher’s family is like my own, but— I haven’t seen my family, like my mom, grandma, brothers, etc in almost a year.” She paused, dwelling on that. Almost an entire year since she’d been able to physically hug and interact with the people who made her who she was. “And I’ve always made it clear how much I fucking love my family. I live in Australia. I can’t do a drive by with grandma so I and my kids can at least see her on the doorstep.” She quieted again, eyes darting off as she quietly cursed. “I’m trying really hard not to cry right now.”
Please don’t cry, bestie.
This is the side of quarantine that people don’t talk about enough.
Has this woman never heard of FaceTime????
I feel her pain. I live in Europe, and my family is in the states. This quarantine has been brutal.
My grandma died from COVID, and I couldn’t even go to the funeral. Summer is bringing up a good point.
“Damn,” Summer chuckled bitterly and wiped at the tears that fell. “I’m okay, I promise. I just bring this up because quarantine has also been very hard for me in that aspect. At certain points, I’ve been down, I’ve been in my head a lot, and I just was not, for the most part, in a space where I felt like I had to keep up my fitness regimen. And that’s okay. I put my mental wellbeing ahead of making sure my body is socially acceptable. Sue me.”
I really appreciate her honesty.
Summer never goes beyond surface level in interviews, so seeing her this vulnerable is really surprising.
Are we supposed to feel bad for her? She’s rich. She can afford whatever help she needed.
These comments are not passing the vibe check.
Ya’ll are all mental health advocates, but when a black woman is opening up about her struggle, it’s discarded?
“And let me make this clear too, I have an amazing husband who is so patient and so kind. He’s one of the best people I can go to when my anxiety hits, so I don’t want this to come across as me complaining that I’ve been alone. I have him and our children. I just miss the rest of my family. That’s all.” She dried her eyes and started to read the comments, unsurprised by the mixed reaction. She expected as such and was unaffected. At least until she saw one comment.
@ChrisEvans: ❤️❤️❤️
“Evans!” Summer wasn’t expecting to see his name pop up. It’d been such a task convincing him to join IG, let alone teaching him how to operate it. “Let’s go live.”
Not my husband and wife in my head about to go live!!!!
Imagine being able to call Chris Evans your best friend
I still say they smashed idc
It’s Christopher Jamal Evans hopping on this live for me.
^^^ I’m so sick of y’all with that shit.
“Let me try to add him,” Summer spoke to herself, scrolling through the comments to find his so she could request him. “Alright, I requested him. Let’s see if he answers.”
She wondered if she should have sent him a text asking if he was available when he appeared on her screen, effectively splitting it with her on the top and him on the bottom.
“Punk.”
“Kid.”
Summer smiled and greeted, “Hi, best friend.”
He chuckled. “How you doing, Summer?”
“Clearly not as good as the people watching,” she chimed. Summer saw nothing but heart eyes and hearts in the comments. “These people really love you. You truly are a manipulative bastard. He’s an asshole, guys.”
“Don’t be jealous, Summer. It’s so unbecoming of you.”
“You can go to hell.”
“Language,” he playfully reprimanded. “Where are the kids?”
“At preschool. Things are finally starting to open back up over here. Thank God.” She clasped her hands together. “Y’all, please wear masks. Don’t be Karen’s.”
Chris laughed, grabbing his chest. “We’re getting there, Summer.”
“The lies you tell,” she countered. “Don’t A Starting Point, me. Ya’ll are far from getting there, and I’m tired of it. I wanna see my family.”
He sighed. “I know, but how are you feeling today?”
“I got rid of the kids, so that’s definitely a weight lifted,” she answered honestly, laughing when she saw judgmental comments in the chat. “Listen, if you’re a parent, you know where I’m coming from. You love your kids, but my god, sometimes you just need some space.”
“As soon as this all blows over, I told you to send em’ by me for a couple of weeks.”
“Best friend, I already purchased their tickets.” He laughed. “As soon as I get the green light, they are all yours. Feel free to keep them.”
“You guys see how she is?” He pointed to Summer, leaning and squinting to read what was being said. “I do love kids, especially the twins, they’re amazing.”
“He is really really great with them, guys,” Summer added. “One thing about Evans, he’s patient as hell and really, just a big kid. Why do you think him and Christopher get along so well? 40 going on 4.”
“I resent that.”
“Is it a lie though?”
He hesitated. “No.” They both laughed.
I’m loving the dynamic between these two so much.
Is it just me or are they flirting with each other…..
Ain’t nothing inappropriate about this conversation. Ya’ll are reaching…
Ya’ll remember that blind item that came out years ago alleging Chris (Evans) was the biological father of the twins? Hmm…..
^^^^^This kind of bullshit is the reason we’re in a global pandemic.
As always, Summer and Evans ignored any foolery that was being dropped in the comments when she caught a comment that didn’t contain some ridiculous rumor.
“Yes, it is true that Evans and Christopher weren’t allowed to do press together anymore. Ya’ll, they literally could not stay serious for more than a minute. I felt so bad for the poor interviewers.”
“Hey, we were not that bad,” Evans protested, his Boston accent more prominent.
She gasped. “You guys were terrible, Evans, and you know it. I was so mad when they put me with ya’ll those few times. I could barely hear the interviewers over your laughing and stupid commentary that literally no one asked for.”
“We did not.”
“There’s deadass video proof, Evans.”
“Fake news.”
She opened her mouth but caught herself. “I was about to say something.”
He laughed and asked, “Do you remember how we all got drunk before the Infinity War premiere?”
“No, ya’ll got drunk. I was big and pregnant, remember?”
“No,” he dismissed. “You were drinking with us.”
“Evans, how was I drinking when I was pregnant?” She challenged and reminded. “I got drunk with ya’ll for the Endgame premiere, not Infinity War.”
“That’s right,” he remembered and chuckled. “You think we’ll get in trouble for saying this?”
She shrugged with one shoulder. “You’re dead, Christopher never gets in trouble for anything, and I do what I want. I think we’re good.”
Kevin Feige watching this live right now like 🥴🥴🥴🥴
I never realized how arrogant she is……
LMAO. Not the whole cast showing up drunk to the biggest premiere of their lives.
Chris Evans is too damn fine to be approaching 40 and still single.
Their friendship is so goals omg
@ChrisHemsworth: Snitches
Summer’s jaw dropped as she caught the last comment, swiping up to click the name and make sure that she was reading correctly. “Christopher, what the hell are you doing on my live?”
Evans brows furrowed. “Hemmy is here? Shouldn’t he be working?”
“That’s what I want to know,” Summer supplied. “And how long have you been watching?”
@ChrisHemsworth: Long enough.
She smiled nervously and looked off to the side. “I feel weird now. I don’t like when he watches my lives.”
“Aren’t you guys married?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up?”
Evans lifted his hands in a defensive manner. “Touchy subject, I see.” They shared another laugh as he cleared his throat. “Why don’t you add him now? I’m supposed to be helping Scott cook.”
“My favorite Evans,” she gushed and furrowed her brows. “You, cooking? Since when?”
“Get out of here.” He waved her off and reminded. “I’m not the one who constantly causes near fires when in the kitchen.”
“So, you really just putting all my business out there like that?”
“Summer, it’s not secret to anyone that you can’t cook for shit.”
“Wow, it really be your own best friends.”
He chuckled. “Love you, kid.”
“Love you too, punk,” she blew a kiss. “I’ll text ya’ later.”
“Alright.” He smiled for the camera. “Thanks for having me everyone.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said jokingly. Evans and Summer said goodbye one last time before he left the live. She blew out a breath and ran her hand through her hair. “Baby, comment something so I can add you. It’s too many comments to wade through.”
Summer adjusted her phone and checked the time on the clock on the wall. It’d been a while since the kids were away at school, and she didn’t want to get so caught up that she was late picking them up.
@ChrisHemsworth: I can’t. I’m too drunk.
Summer released a mixture of a laugh and a snort reading his comment. “You are so damn petty.” She clicked his name and adjusted her outfit while waiting for him to answer. She almost cursed when it seemed like he wasn’t going to join, only for her to smile when his face appeared on her screen.
“Hi,” she greeted in a soft voice with a small smile.
“Hello, Sandcastle.”
“Did you just—I swear to god, it’s always something with you.” Summer rubbed her temples and shook her head. Christopher smiled in response. “Why aren’t you working?”
“I am.”
“You are?”
“Yes.”
“If you’re working, how are you talking to me?” She asked, sassily.
“Umm, a little thing called multitasking, ever heard of it?”
“Wow. You are an asshole.”
“That’s mean.”
“You’re mean.”
“Christopher, you are literally a child.”
“Does a child have muscles like this?” He flexed, and Summer stilled. Christopher stayed in ridiculous shape, but this was another level. He’d never been this massive, and she wasn’t too proud to admit that. Just not aloud.
She faked a yawn. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”
They really just be roasting each other all the time, and I’m here for it.
Summer must be legally blind because this man is stupid fine tf
It’s gotta be steroids. That’s not natural.
^^^^^He’s the god of thunder.
Summer rolled her eyes at the typical nature of the comments. These were the reasons she limited her time on social media and especially stayed away from reading the comments. Her attention was redirected to the top of her phone. It was a text from Christopher asking her to call him.
“But we’re—oh, I get it.” She realized he wanted to talk to her, not her and her tens of millions of followers. “Alright, guys, I’m gonna get off here so I can talk to my husband, alone.”
“She just doesn’t want to share me with you all, that’s all.”
“Don’t even start, Christopher,” she lectured while he laughed and got serious, for a minute tops.
“Hope you all are taking care and staying safe,” he spoke honestly. “And we’ll talk to you soon.”
Summer waved and smile. “Bye, guys. Remember to be kind.” Summer offered a final smile before ending the live. Closing up the app, she moved to open FaceTime and called up Christopher. He answered almost immediately. “You know I hate when you watch my Lives. Now, how much did you see?”
“Enough to know you’re coming to see me tonight.”
She laughed aloud. “Funny.”
“I’m serious, Summer.” Focusing on him, she realized that there was no humor in his voice nor his expression. Summer also noticed that he didn’t have the Thor wig on yet, which was probably why he was able to go live with her. He was waiting to get into hair and makeup. “Leave the kids with Liam. It’s not like he’s doing anything.”
“Christopher!”
“What? Is he not a professional unemployed bastard.”
Summer’s smile remained as she shook her head. “You are so mean.”
“I’ll handle the flight arrangements. You, my beautiful wife, just make sure you get on the jet so I can handle you.”
“Christopher, you’re working. People with everyday jobs don’t just up and show up to their spouses workplace because they miss them or need a break from the kids. That’s how folks get fired.”
Christopher started to move around, walking somewhere, she realized. “What are you doing?”
“Hey, Tike.”
Summer’s eyes widened slightly. “Christoper!”
“Sup, man?” Taika asked casually, as Summer laughed again. Taika Waititi was such a character.
“You mind if Summer comes up for a few days?”
“Sure, man,” he replied almost right away. “Bring the kids and chickens too.”
“I am not bringing those damn chickens,” she immediately protested.
Christopher made a sound. “Ha, so you are coming!”
“I didn’t say that.”
Taika joined Christopher so that he was in camera. “Hey, Summer, why don’t you come on join? You can have a cameo. Chickens, too.”
She rubbed her temples. Taika’s and Chris’s friendship would never not make sense to her. They were cut from the same cloth. “One, hey. Two, I was already in Ragnarok. I’m good on the cameos. Three, what is with ya’ll and those creepy looking chickens?”
“Whoa, creepy? What did the chickens ever do?”
“Exist,” Summer answered dryly. She still hadn’t forgiven Evans and Christopher for convincing her to let the kids keep those damn things. Her home was becoming more and more of a farm with each animal that joined the household.
“Tough crowd, that one, ehh?”
“Always,” Christopher agreed.
“I can hear you both,” she reminded and groaned loudly. Summer would love to spend a few days away from the kids. Chris would be working, yes, but she’d at least get some time for herself. Even better, alone adult time with her husband. That had also been a bit tricky during quarantine because of her rambunctious twins. Still, she disliked using her status as a celebrity to gain things, and this would definitely be a case of using status for pull. “I don’t know….”
Deep in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that Chris had walked away and returned to wherever he was prior to finding Taika, most likely his trailer.
“What if you only stayed a night?” Chris tried to bargain. “The flight is only an hour and a half. That will give you more than enough time to come here, let me fix you dinner, run you a nice bath, maybe get in the good ole’ horizontal tango—”
“You know I hate when you call it that,” she reminded quietly, admitting. “That does sound nice, though.”
“Or, I can come to you—“
“Absolutely not. Christopher, you’re already doing so much back and forth as it is.” One of the good things to come out of quarantine, to Summer at least, was that it forced many people to take a much needed break. Her husband was one of those people. Christopher had been working nonstop since she met him. Project after project, film after film, many of them Marvel films, which put a whole other layer of difficulty what with the strenuous physical requirements. Even now as he shot Thor 4, he was in the best shape he’d ever been, muscles nearly tearing the cotton of his clothes. He looked amazing, but it was what they couldn’t see that she was starting to grow a little concerned over. Christopher wasn’t as young as he once was. He had to slow down, eventually.
Summer realized this would be a perfect chance to have a conversation about just that with him, which all but led her to her final decision.
“Alright,” she conceded, finger up as she made her demands. “Three days, and I stay at the house while you shoot. We may be returning to normal, but we’re still in a pandemic. I won’t go around anyone except you.”
“So I get you all to myself? Hardly consider that a stipulation.”
“And…we talk.”
“After the horizontal tango—“
“I swear to God, if you don’t stop calling it that—“
“What was that, sweetheart? I wasn’t listening.” She saw that he had paused the screen, causing Summer to remember that she hadn’t even consulted with the babysitter. “Making flight arrangements for you.”
“Shit, let me text Liam and make sure he’s available.”
“He gets reception in the box?”
“Christopher! For the last time, your brother is not living in a box.”
“Do you know that for certain?”
“Goodbye, Christopher,” she prepared to end the call before smiling softly. “I love you, Christopher, and thank you.”
He winked. “I’ll always do anything for you, Summer. Anything.” A beat. “Don’t forget to leave the clothes. You won’t need them.”
“Christopher!”
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iamthekaijuking · 3 years
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Spec evo has on occasion explored the concept. And if you’re wondering if cancer can be independent, then wonder no more because it happens all the time and is part of the nature of cancer.
Cancer is basically when a cell mutates and gives up on being part of a team and decides to put its own survival first. Normal (there lots of are exceptions) eukaryotic cells usually die if they live on their own because they need to be part of a team where everyone is interdependent. Cancer can live completely independently of its parent body under the right conditions, and can very rarely become something called an Immortal Cell Line.
Henrietta Lacks is a woman who has technically been dead for a long time, but her cancer cells have been used for study and became the HeLa immortal human cell line, the first of its kind. Henrietta’s cancer cells have been an invaluable resource in cancer research and we still use these cells for research to this day.
But due to environmental conditions and predators, cancer can’t usually live out in the open. Which is why they prefer the warm nutrient rich bodies of the living. But cancer usually kills it’s host, which is usually the end for the cancer as well. But, only on a handful of occasions, has cancer been able to transcend its original host body through evolution.
These are called transmissible tumors, and they’re cancer cells that live the life of a disease.
Transmissible tumors can sometimes be harmless like the Canine Transmissible Venereal Tumor, which is a cancer turned STD. But other times they can be ferocious epidemics like the Devil Facial Tumor Disease, which is actually threatening Tasmanian devils with extinction.
All in all, cancer is a fascinating case of something that is so dependent on teamwork suddenly going rogue all for its own survival and becoming immortal if given the chance.
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This is just a guess/hypothesis.
Because, as an elder dragon hunter, the nergigante population is extremely low and also constantly on the move. Nergigante could just lay eggs or fry somewhere safe and abandon them, or it could take advantage of its extreme regeneration and make it so the spikes it leaves everywhere can be filled with reproductive cells, and spines left on carcasses of high end predators develop into tiny versions of the adults, which could potentially result in way more young being made than the traditional way and thus making it more likely that some young make it to adulthood.
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dailydccomics · 2 years
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Wonder Woman variant cover art by Byron Vaughns
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