#v; Alien Dad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

det-agency · 5 months ago

Text

payneland yule exchange 2024

@clementiiny

tw: bullying/abuse/ptsd/underage drinking

prompts: pre-canon, hurt/comfort, domestic vibes charles-centric fic

Charles eyes the space Edwin cleared out for him on their homemade bookshelf.

-------- ≪ ｡❅*⋆⍋⋆*❅｡ ≫ --------

It was funny at first, two ghosts were haunting an old abandoned building. Nestled in off streets on some abandoned development project in Southern England. He can remember when they first stumbled in on a mirror hopping exercise, and Edwin taught him how to concentrate so that he could help move the discarded clapboard pallets. The way the pressure built on his hand without the texture of the wood was so alien to him at the time. When the hastily nailed planks finally rose his eyes darted to Edwin automatically.

“Very good Charles,” his smile radiating in his voice and eyes.

“Thanks mate, I think i’m getting-”

The pressure dissipated instantaneously, the rush of sand colored boards falling in a blur and crashing so loud to reverberate in the unfurnished concrete building.

No one spoke or moved for a minute.

-------- ≪ ｡❅*⋆⍋⋆*❅｡ ≫ --------

Now two months have gone by and he has an empty shelf of the same discarded wood. Right next to Edwin’s growing collection of magical tomes and comics.

Somehow.

The sentiment is nice, but Charles isn’t much of a bibliophile. The last book he cracked open himself was probably Warriner’s English Grammar and Composition- complete course. If he had Edwin to read his coursework to him before his midterms- as well as the signs of faery possession- he might have had a better time retaining information.

He lets his mind fidget with the idea. Sneaking around to study with Edwin would have been loads more enjoyable than swotting up everytime he got wind of a quiz. For all the vapid consternated lecturing about their desire to teach the next generation diligence he’s surprised none of the teachers caught on to his more extreme study habits. He needed to revise twice as long as his mates, whilst still keeping on top of his cricket practice. The stench of smuggled coffee in the shared dorm space, sting of untreated paper cuts on his cricket bat, and echo of quickly flipped paper while on the bench-minutes before practice begins- still haunts him. No one can say his scholarship was not merited. To be candid, a few of his peers tried. They should put his name on a medal.

He winces.

They’d probably think that was lame though. With his friends there was always a give and take. Charles would be too excited or too visually distinctive, and then they would disparage him before intervening. He can almost hear them now, in his head, mocking him for caring enough to wonder what books Charles thinks Edwin would want next to his collection. They’d probably ring his bell if they caught him idling, grinning at it, like a gormless old twit.

Charles starts picking up the books Edwin had pushed to the far side of the room and carrying them back towards their place on the shelf. Each one aged into a different neutral hue.

It’s not like getting lumped aside the head is the worst, he’s just had his fair share of it. The sharp painful corrections reverberated through concert gigs, class, and his old house. With his Dad it was something you could count on. Like the chime of a clock or the clunk of his boots on the floor above him when he got home.

The closest he gets to that is when Edwin scolded him when he misplaced a hand-bound copy of Materials Toward a History of Witchcraft V. II.

His hands were steepled and eyebrows were pinched as he faced Charles.

“It is of our best interest to have our books on occultism organized if we are to keep helping any stray ghost that takes your fancy.”

His tone is sincere with “steps to make sure this does not happen whilst they are in each other’s company.”

It had been the first time Edwin had mentioned a future- their future- together.

So…there are more instances where he messes up with Edwin.

His first offense was gathering discarded vinyl records from the estate to solve the case of the mummified musician. He may have gathered more than necessary. The boxes littered their settled office with the crowded oppressive atmosphere of an obstacle course.

“ I don’t understand the importance of collecting memorabilia from his estate if his condition clearly exemplifies a pharaoh's curse, Charles.”

“Except he’s never been to Egypt, and something is wrong with these records, Edwin.” Charles tests.

“Whatever do you mean?” Edwin asks, hands centering more nervously.

Charles takes the dingy milk crate containing the cursed record to the top of their newly acquired office desk. “He didn’t have any photos of his parents in that house. Closest we got to them was that burnt photo with his passport. So whoever his family is in Egypt he isn’t going back to see them often.” He grabs the third vinyl ceremoniously holding it up and points accordingly.

“This band was based in the UK and was underground in the 70s; they did not have the money to parade around publishing records in Egypt, mate. It also doesn’t have English import tax added to the price on the back so we can figure whoever gave it to him wasn’t a distributor. Finally,” He slides the protective sheet from the record. “The Matrix numbers are utter gibberish.” Charles raises his head to find Edwin studying him instead of the vinyl.

“You know an awful lot about vinyl records, how come your interest has never come up before?” Edwin poaches.

“I’m not interested, mate, this case is just stupid convoluted and I’d really appreciate getting this case closed as soon as possible, yeah?” Charles twists away placing the covering back onto the record and into the jacket delicately.

“Right, of course.” Edwin reassures.

The following offense had occurred after a few days of dodgy eyeing on Edwin’s part. The silent treatment had gotten so intolerable he had resulted in point blank annoying him about the local bands when they walked past the building on their way to pick up new comics and magical tomes from the only occult shop in London to sell to “new ghosts.”

The cold morning air clung to the energy around their forms as they made their way through almost empty city walkways. The greys and blues of the world still clinging to the buildings and street as Charles prattles on about trumpet melodies and inconsistent show times. They had been trotting by a street light holding fast against the elements when Edwin had stopped walking and Charles went ramrod straight.

“Did you use to go to shows frequently?” he asks hesitantly, but his eyes are narrowed and posture is straight, holding a brick sized hand bound french magic book and a recent batman issue with the same reverence, snug against himself.

Charles feels the panic, in his arms and stomach, unfurl their tendrils.

“I-er-well, we all had the go-ahead to leave campus, right, but we could never make it back in time if we went too far, did we? This venue didn’t card, so we always found our way here…eventually.” Charles stammers.

Edwin’s eyes drift to the unassuming dark building with torn weathered posters littering its wall. “You mentioned going to see the Po-Goues in January, but the poster says they were playing January 14th, which is shortly after your holiday. So I may surmise, you came back to St. Hilarion's and then went to a concert in which the interim school faculty would be exceedingly vigilant. You must care about them a great deal.” His eyes roam, and lock back onto Charles, assessing.

“Didn’t think you were actually listening, mate.” Charles teases.

“The Kon 5 is playing next week, so we could attend a show, if you are still interested in such things.”

Edwin steels himself, takes a breath, and then points to one of the newer additions to the wall. Charles follows the line of action from the base of Edwin’s shoulder to the mass-produced poster for the stupid band he used to wait in line to see.

-------- ≪ ｡❅*⋆⍋⋆*❅｡ ≫ --------

The building is dark. Metal and Brick both painted over with worn black overcoats. The stairs lead to an expanse of hallway with an open bar and doors. He remembers Mark used to remind him not to be an idiot and forget the stuff they came in with. Abandoned high heels, coats, and a metal bat line the walk-way. If you follow it you can pass the bathrooms to the back and you can see the open floor of an expansive former church turned remodeled stage.

The members come up one after the other. Each fiddling with equipment and performing checks on their respective instruments.

Charles’ energy is erratic. His hand had phased through the bars of the catwalk; they were camped atop up to his forearms. Being inside shouldn’t be putting his nerves on edge. He should be able to differentiate being in the building now with Edwin for one of his favorite bands and the “friends” who introduced it to him.

Nevertheless, every place his eyes rest rip memories from the depths of his mind to the cold air around him. He remembers, agreeing to help one of his roommates move to afford one of the coats everyone wore. Being too scared to decorate it. Skipping class so no one would see him go to a Citizen 8 gig alone. Standing in the dorm’s communal bathroom, looking in one of the mirrors to the shades of purple on his body, no recollection who to inculpate. “It was just a lark, we didn’t mean any harm.”

Getting harrassed.

Getting Killed.

”Hard Lines mate, maybe next time.” muttered at his fucking funeral.

“Are you alright?” Edwin asks.

“What-er- yeah” Charles stutters, “Sorry, we’ve-I’ve- just never got here early before.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Edwin hesitates.

“Oh, yeah, brills.”

It’s strange they don’t have any roadies or stage-hands aside from the band members. Charles points to the stage. “That is the lead singer James doing the mike check. and-” his arm halts its motion as they both watch in horror as the drummer touches his kit, glows red, dives behind the curtain, and begins screaming hysterically backstage.

Edwin looks at him quizzically.

“Well, that was the drummer.” Charles stammers, “Er-‘m sure, he’s fine, mate”

The Kon 5 are about twenty or so minutes into their set. The trumpets and drums are sycophantic in their rhythm drilling the crowd. Shouts of encouragement and lyrics are spurred out from the people around them. He looks to his right, Edwin stands in his school uniform tight and pristine despite the dingy atmosphere and sub-par lighting. His soft, thoughtful expression breaks into a smile when his eyes lock with Charles.

Guilt stabs him inextricably.

Edwin’s face falls and he pulls him towards the front of the venue. The Green lighting is strained on the hallway to the bathrooms that Charles has had the misfortune of painting in sick after a few too many jars.

“It’s okay if you don’t like the set we could head to the office and-” Charles starts.

“That is not the drummer.” Edwin states matter-of-fact.

The words left no room for negotiation, and were left between them.

“The Glowing was reminiscent of faery possession.”

“They just got back from France,” Hammering draws from Charles’s heart and hits his stomach.

“The shows-the tour,” he supplies, “They might have picked it up in Paris. ‘Right, Edwin?”

“You have the list of tour destinations memorized?” Edwin asks.

Charles feels stinging behind his eyes first.

“No, no, I just used to have their albums on tape and the upcoming tour destinations printed on back ‘innit.”

“You had their albums on tape? I had no idea you were passionate about music when you were alive,” he states.

“ We should see if the drummer could lend us some tapes after we rid him of his faery infestation.” Edwin mutters nodding to himself.

“Passionate?” Charles squawks.

“I don’t know why you insist on pretending you have no-interests or hobbies Charles, but you are clearly knowledgeable on the subject at hand.I had hoped your admission to your interest in music had been an olive branch between us, since you are so pliable to my rantings on thaumaturgy and protection charms, but you seem more fretful. ” His eyebrows are knit together before he continues, “I do not want our companionship to be so one-sided. I don't know any of your passions nor do I wish to have our place of residence devoid of your impression.”

“Mate, i didn’t mean-”

“I saw you restocked the bookshelf. Do you not see the office as a worthwhile place to store your belongings?” he continues. “Honestly, Charles, if you have no plans to stay we need not discuss it, but at least give me something to remember you by.”

The clawing in his throat builds with the silence between them.

“I-er,” he tries looking towards the cheap drywall, “This is just the first time it was okay to care about things, y’know?

And- yeah. I don’t, er- ” his voice breaks, and he half expects Edwin to shove him.

He doesn’t.

Instead, Edwin’s hand is steady as it grips his lapel.

He follows the pale pressed fingers to his wrist, up his covered arm and settles his gaze near Edwin’s face.

“Maybe on our return from our next trip from the occult book shop we can purchase some recordings.” He whispers.

Charles feels the buzzing energy in his hands again. He weighs everything said before him. The new revelation stripped the version of himself he had presupposed Edwin saw.

“Five minutes backstage,” Charles surrenders, picking up one discarded aluminium bat.

“Or we are summoning that drummer.” - ------ ≪ ｡❅*⋆⍋⋆*❅｡ ≫ ------

On the way back they pick up a walkman and cassette tapes for the Po-goues, rage parade, and Citizen 8. They leave behind a newly faery-exorcised signed guitar as payment.

When they get back to the office they make it to the middle of the floor before Edwin stands before him with his hand extended.

“What, right now?” Charles asks.

Edwin remains waiting patiently.

The magic canvas bag prognosticates. He swats his hand inside and picks up the cassette player, a tangled mess of earbuds, and the Citizen 8 tape all in one go.

Edwin’s hands dip for a second under the unexpected weight of the cassette player, but adjusts accordingly. Charles presses the eject button and places the tape into Edwin’s other awaiting hand. His fingers hold it in an unconventional manner while Charles stares in awe.

Too soon he presses the cassette into the cartridge and the hand is tucked under the handheld player.

“The earbuds please, Charles.”

Charles' eyes and hands return the mess of wire that he is desperate to untangle. He separates the left and right sides from the main auxiliary cord. Edwin’s hand reaches below and takes the jack and presses it into the aux with succinct precision. He returns, thumbing the earbud from Charles’s left hand to press it to the side of his face. He feels the loss of contact, and then watches Edwin take the earbud from his right hand before putting it to his own ear.

For a moment, he watches the cord between them.

The black wire joining their faces is short, forcing them a little closer than they usually get. His eyes flicker over Edwin’s face, but they find no discomfort. No, Edwin’s face is concentrated as he works. His eyes pinched with the ghost of a smile on his lips. They’re so close he can see the hint of stubble atop his lip and jaw. The coil coupling them taps below his ear twice before-

Edwin pressed the cartridge closed.

The guitar riff expels gruff and triumphant. Five seconds in the drums pick up a heavy beating in the heart of the song. Their lead singer screeches her arrival in a familiar melody.

Edwin’s eyebrows pinch slightly before a soft smile exposes a hint of dimples caresses his face next to the wire joining them. It takes a dull ache in the side of Charles’ face to realize he’s been smiling too. He feels the contact of Edwin’s fingers against his own before realizing he’s unconsciously reached to support the cassette player with him. The weight is lighter than anything he’s held in this new form.

It takes a few minutes before Edwin wanders to pick up his place in a discarded french spellbook. With both ears filled with the rapid pounding of a drum beat he places the remaining two cassettes on his spot on their shelf. With his energy still warmed from Edwin’s presence, he lays a hand on the exposed wood and lets himself press to feel the pressure.

#charles rowland #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #payneland #payneland yule exchange 2024 #clementiiny

70 notes · View notes

charlietheepicwriter7 · 1 year ago

Text

V The Mysterious Wayne Family

Dick Grayson V Gotham - Chapter 2

“Why can’t I sit in the front seat?” Danny demanded to know, crossing his arms from the back of Dick’s car.

Dick sighed, peering back at him with the rearview mirror. He’d been shaky as they escaped the apartment without getting attacked by the media. Did the idiot get sick? Was the media in this dimension such a big threat?

Truthfully, Danny didn’t know a lot about this dimension, despite having lived in it for around a year. That year was spent almost entirely homeless, spending only the last few weeks with Dick. Otherwise, he was sleeping where he could, spending his days in libraries and conning people out of cash as a child medium.

…Well, calling it “conning” was a bit of an overstatement. He did get people in contact with dead relatives and the like. He just… didn’t always quote them exactly, especially when it meant he could get enough money to eat for the day.

“It’s unsafe, Danny, you know that.”

Danny glared at him from his booster seat, which put him perfectly at eye level so he could lock eyes with Dick with the rear-view mirror. He hated this whole situation: the booster seat, his age, needing to rely on an adult, the stupid media, the stupid police, the stupid Dick… Okay, he kinda liked the booster seat. It was based off of some hero—Superbman—who was an alien? But looked like a human?

That may be one of the biggest differences between this dimension and his hom–the dimension he was born in. Danny had been one of the only heroes back there, along with Valerie and Dani, if you could even call them heroes. In this dimension? There were hundreds. There were space aliens to normal people in costumes to other humans with powers, and while not all of them were heroes, a lot of them were.

And Danny hated how easy they had it.

Every day back in Amity Park was a fight for acceptance, a battle to convince people that yes, he was a ghost with good intentions, only for that trust to be lost the moment he wasn’t fast enough to stop a ghost from hurting someone, or got thrown through a wall trying to protect people. It was constantly one step forward and one step back, and nothing Sam or Tucker or Jazz said ever truly made him okay with it.

Despite everything, he hoped Amity Park was doing alright without him. He couldn’t go back—wouldn’t go back, even if he had an open portal and his powers, not after what happened—but hopefully they were doing okay.

He hoped his rogues had listened and stayed away from the Fenton portal. For their own safety.

Like every time he thought of his pa–the Fentons, the scars across his chest flared up. They might have been long-healed, but the pain always lingered, a sharp lance that lingered in the thin skin of his wound. Fiddling around in his pocket, Danny found his juul and puffed. Exhaling, a bubble gum smoke filled the cabin as the CBD started to work its way into his blood.

Dick coughed. “You know you won’t be able to do that in the manor, right?”

Danny grumbled, rolling down the window a crack.

“I’m serious, Danny. I know you need it, but the rules are different at the manor. You’ll need to go outside to smoke.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll smoke outside. Wouldn’t want your gramps to get bent out of shape.”

He laughed. “I think Alfred would be alright, once we explain your medical issues. It’s Bruce we’ll have to worry about. He’s got this thing about drugs… once he learns what’s in your juul, he do whatever it takes to get you off it. He won’t even listen if we tell him about your chronic pain, he’ll just think you’re lying!” Dick threw his hand up in the air. “Honestly, it’s just lecture after lecture with him.”

“He can suck a cock then!”

Dick laughed, all traces of anger gone as his bright eyes glanced at him through the mirror. “Say that to his face, and you get ice cream for a week.”

“Done!”

The illusive Bruce Wayne. Danny had heard the name from the TV that morning, and apparently he was Dick’s dad. Not that Dick ever mentioned him in the months they knew each other. Not that this Bruce guy ever visited on the occasions Dick managed to convince him to stay the night, nor in the weeks after his foster placement was finalized. Danny didn’t even know Dick had a dad until this morning, so clearly something was going on here.

If he focused on this case—the mystery behind the estrangement of Dick and Bruce—then he’d finally be able to get his mind off Mrs. Bennett’s case. The Shade had approached him early that morning, flickering in the moonlight, barely visible and just formed. Her case was so easy too; her killer was her son-in-law, she’d been awake when he killed her and he’d definitely left behind evidence too, but there was no telling if the other detectives at Bludhaven PD would find it. Or would care enough to find it.

Corrupt bastards.

Speaking of which—”Are we actually going to be able to consult on cases while we’re in Gotham, or was that just something you said to make me feel better?”

“I believe I said case, as in the singular one with Mrs. Bennett. But yes, I’ve already arranged it with the Commissioner.”

“But she works for the Damir family! We can’t trust her.”

“We can’t trust her when it comes to cases related to the Damir family,” Dick corrected. “Other than that, she’s decent at her job.”

“That’s not a compliment.”

“She’s better than the other officers in our department?” he tried again.

“Also not a compliment. I’ve met dead guys that are better cops.”

They bantered back and forth, but the closer they got to Gotham, the tenser Dick became. Dick wasn’t the type to get serious out of nowhere—the only times Danny could remember were when a case involved a gang or that one terrible time when some ugly-ass assassin with a stupid-ass name came to town—but whatever was waiting for them… must be bad. Right?

Gotham, Danny noticed as they drove through town, looked better than Bludhaven, like how rats look better than turds. Danny had heard the rumors about Gotham, mostly about all the dangerous villains, but there was clearly some money going into infrastructure. Beautiful gothic buildings dripping with gargoyles towered overhead, and there weren’t nearly as many boarded up shops and potholes.

It wouldn’t have been a bad place to set up shop if it weren’t for all the Shades around.

The ghost population of this dimension mostly comprised of Shades with the occasional Poltergeists and Wraiths. Ectoplasm wasn’t as accessible here; just traveling to this dimension had stripped Danny of almost all the ectoplasm in his body and he still hadn’t recovered, so his powers barely worked. But Shades were shadows of humans when they were alive, weak and incorporeal unless you were a ghost too, barely kept together with their obsession.

Bludhaven had a lot of Shades. That’s why Danny settled down there when he first arrived. He wanted to help people move on if he could, either by solving their murder or contacting their loved ones.

If Bludhaven had a lot of Shades, Gotham had a colossal number.

Shades clogged the walkways and the streets, dissipating when someone or something went through them and reforming in an instant. Some alleys were plugged with them and some alleys were empty. Danny watched with wide eyes. Ghosts were supposed to be rare. He’d thought ghosts were rare. But Gotham was plagued with violent crime… violent, unique, indescribable crime, worse in intensity from Bludhaven, but not quite there in frequency. There were women with their faces melted off, men ripped in half down the center, children blown to bits, creeping around the streets of Gotham.

Danny sunk down in his booster seat. “I want to go home,” he admitted quietly.

Dick sighed. “I know, kiddo. I want to go home too.”

He blinked away stubborn tears. Dick didn’t understand. This wasn’t Danny’s home, this dimension wasn’t Danny’s home, Dick wasn’t Danny’s home (as much as Danny appreciated Dick, he wanted his family, but they hated him, they attacked him, they—)

Dick continued talking. “But you know what? Everything’s going to be okay. Because my grandfather is going to love you. And Bruce— He’s a little rough around the edges and we might not get along right now, but he’s going to love you too.” Dick sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Danny. “Tim’s going to adore you; he’s told me that he’s always wanted a younger sibling and I can’t blame him; his house looks so lonely and his parents were always gone. He’s staying with Bruce now as a foster since his dad’s in a coma, but he’s been family long before that…”

He listened to Dick continue to ramble about his family. Bruce was rarely touched upon in his stories, but Alfred was spoken of with unmistakable love (Danny never knew his grandparents, Mom and Dad were disowned years before he was born, he could probably guess why), and he clearly adored Tim (He could understand that, Danny loved Jazz with his entire soul, but what would it have been like if he had a younger sibling? Would his relationship with Dani have turned into this if they could’ve spent time together?). Dick continued with stories about his best friend and ex-girlfriend, Barabra (Sam and Tuck, Tuck and Sam, his friends were dead and it's his fault—), and even a few including Tim’s ex-girlfriend too.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think.

Before long, the car slowed to a stop. Ahead of them was a grand manor, the kind shown in those regency tv shows that Jazz loved watching, with obsessively maintained gardens and beautiful, clean exterior. A stone staircase led up to larger-than-life wooden doors; Danny couldn’t identify what kind of wood, but it was probably something expensive and old. Mahogany? That sounded like an expensive wood.

Dick put the car in park before turning around in his seat to look at Danny. “Alright, buddy. Are you ready to meet our family?”

“Your family,” Danny corrected mulishly, unbuckling his seat belt.

“Our family,” Dick said again, smiling. “They’re good people, and they’re going to be here for you.”

“Sure.” Sliding out of his seat and out of the car, Danny stayed slightly behind Dick as they walked up the steps and to the front door. Before Dick could knock or find the doorbell, the doors opened to reveal an old stereotypical butler. He even had a British accent! “Master Grayson,” he addressed Dick coolly, but when he looked at Danny, his expression softened. “And Young Master Daniel. It is good to finally meet you, and welcome to Wayne Manor. I am the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth.”

Danny ducked away. “Danny’s fine,” came his muttered response.

Alfred smiled. “Young Master Danny, then. Come along; Master Bruce is waiting for you both in the foyer.”

Dick grimaced. Did that mean something bad? What was a foyer, a fancy word for office? Was Dick going to get scolded?

They followed Alfred into the house (although, calling it a house felt like an understatement). It was even fancier inside, with marble floors and a glistening chandelier overhead. Danny felt significantly out of place in his jeans and ratty coat he’d pulled out of the trash.

There was a man pacing in the room (was this the foyer?). He was dressed in a fancy suit and built like a brick house, but looked similar enough to Dick in a weird funhouse-mirror way. The moment he saw them, his face smoothed into a banal smile and Danny immediately didn’t like him. “Dick! You’re home.” Striding up to them, the man immediately hugged Dick, who stiffly returned it. “Welcome back, chum. And who’s this?”

Dick’s smile was strained. “This is my foster son, Danny. Danny, this is Bruce; I was his ward until I turned 18.” Ouch. Not even a foster son, but a ward? That sounded like a significant step down from fostering. Danny glared at Bruce, who seemed taken aback by his hostility. Dick laughed nervously. “Sorry about him, he’s shy.” Now Danny glared at Dick.

Bruce’s smiled evened out as he crouched down, like that would hide his fucking massive body. “It’s nice to meet you, Danny,” he said. “I’m very happy you're here. Hopefully it’ll be a lot more peaceful now that you’re staying with us.”

Danny scowled. “Suck a cock, douchebag.”

Bruce’s smile dropped as Dick smothered a laugh. “Watch your mouth,” Dick scolded without any heat behind it. Danny smirked.

“It’s okay, Dick,” Bruce said, straightening up. “I’m sure Danny’s just shaken up from the sudden change. I’m feel the same, since you didn’t tell any of your friends or family that you were taking in a child.”

“Oh, so you can adopt a child without telling anyone, but when I do it—”

Alfred stepped in. “If you both could contain yourselves a minute longer, I can get the Young Masters settled in. I’ve already arranged a room for you in the family ward, Young Master Danny, if you’d like to rest? It is still rather early in the morning.”

“It might be better to give him a tour of the manor before anything else,” Dick said, eyeing Danny warrily.

“I’m not going to get lost.”

“Mhmm.” Dick didn’t believe him.

“I’m not!”

“Just like how you didn’t get lost at the precinct? Or at the morgue? Or at—”

“I never got lost on the streets!” Danny thought that was rather impressive. Besides, it’s not his fault the morgue was just empty hallways that all looked the same!

“The streets are labeled. Besides, you’ll never know where the in-house theater is without a tour.” Dick winked, like that was a big selling point.

Bruce interrupted them. “Why don't you give him a tour after we talk, Dick? It’s been a long time since we last spoke and I was hoping to ask you about your… recent life change.”

Dick pinched the bridge of nose. “Of course you want to start the interrogation right away,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowed. “Alright, but I don’t want Danny to hear this. Alfie, could you– Tim!” Following Dick’s glance, Danny found a teenager in his fancy pajamas standing on the stairs leading to the second floor. The teen, who looked enough like Dick to be his brother and Bruce’s son, rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Tim can take you on the tour! Come on, Danny.”

Dick ushered Danny up the stairs to Tim. “Will you be okay without me?” Danny asked, not wanting to leave Dick alone with Bruce.

He got a bright smile in return. Danny didn’t trust it. “Of course I will, kiddo. Don’t worry about me, just focus on having fun with Timmy.”

Tim looked blearily between them. “What is going on?”

“You’re taking Danny on a tour so he doesn’t hear me and Bruce fight,” Dick told him plainly. “Danny, this is my brother and Bruce’s foster son, Tim. Tim, this is my foster son, Danny. You two have fun!”

Ignoring Tim’s protests that he hadn’t had breakfast yet, Dick pushed them up the stairs and into the immediate hallway, closing the door behind him. They stared at each other for a moment before Danny pressed his ear against the crack in the door. “When did Dick get a kid?” Tim asked.

“Like, three weeks ago, keep up.” Tim tried to say something again, but Danny shushed him. After a moment, Tim joined him in eavesdropping by the door.

Dick spoke. “I’ll start. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you both I was fostering a kid. I was planning to inform you after the two month mark and Danny had settled in a bit more, but obviously that plan is out the window.”

“I accept your apology, Master Dick,” Alfred said, and there was a sigh of relief. “However, I would still like to know how this happened in the first place.”

“I’m more interested in knowing how you managed to foster him without us being interviewed as character references.”

“...I may have used my boss’ influence to make sure that only my co-workers were interviewed?” Dick admitted.

“Master Richard.”

“I’m sorry, Alfie, but he’s a flight risk! Do you know how many times I managed to get him to come home with me only for him to disappear in the middle of the night!? Fourteen times! Danny’s admitted that he ran away from his previous home, he still hasn’t told me his real last name, and he’s paranoid enough to give Bruce a run for his money! I’ve just barely managed to gain his trust. I didn’t need Bruce being Bruce to ruin it for us—”

“If you had asked me to stay away, I would have—”

“No you wouldn’t, Bruce! You’d pick and prod and try to uncover his every little secret because you don’t trust me to figure it out myself! If Danny had suspected that someone was looking into his past, he would have bolted, B. And I would have lost him forever.”

Danny nodded. He would have. Not that Bruce would have found anything about his past–the perks of getting stuck in an alternate dimension–but some rich asshole poking his nose in his business? Danny would have snuck onto the next bus out of the city.

“You can barely take care of yourself, Dick!” Bruce insisted. “If it was such a dire situation, then you could have contacted me and I would have–”

“–Lost him immediately because he has a strange hatred for billionaires?” Dick scoffed. “He wouldn’t let you get within six feet of him if you tried to take custody.”

“I–”

“He bites too.”

“Dick–”

“Hard.”

“Richard–”

“And it’s pretty bold of you to say I can’t take care of myself. Have you looked in the mirror recently? Because the word hypocrite is written across your forehead in crayon.”

“But I’m not the one who struggles to make rent each month.” Danny flinched. He’d known that Dick didn’t get paid that much, but was it really that bad? Didn’t Dick get a pay increase when he was made detective? Or was Danny taking so much money that it negated the pay increase— “Nevertheless, I’m not trying to take custody away from you, Dick. I’m just… trying to figure out how we got to this point.”

“We got to this point by not trusting each other,” Dick said tiredly. “And I still don’t trust you, not after what you did.”

Dick, I–”

“No, Bruce. This is my life. Besides you were only a few years older than me when my parents died and you decided to raise me on your own. It’s hypocritical for you to complain that I’m doing the same. Look, I’ve known Danny for over a year–”

“You mean you’ve hid this from me for over a year?”

“Bruce–”

“I knew I should have been suspicious when you got that foster license. You’ve been planning this for months–”

“Bruce!” Dick snapped, and Danny had never heard Dick that mad before, not even the first time they met. “Obviously I’ve been planning this for months! I’ve been planning this since the first week I met Danny! The only reason I got that damn license was for him!” He felt… warm. Danny knew that foster licenses were hard to get, but Dick had really wanted him since the week they met. Danny had been so… feral back then, he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him, not even Jazz. Dick continued, voice barely audible through the door. “He’s a good kid. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

A sigh. “I just… don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret, that’s all.”

��Are you saying you regret adopting me?” The angry voice was back. “Adopting Jason?”

“That’s not what I meant—!”

Tim pulled him away from the door. “We shouldn’t be listening to this. Come on, let’s start that tour you need.”

Danny tried to pull away, but Tim was deceptively strong for his thin frame. Despite his struggles, he was halfway down the hall before he knew it. “Let me go, cocksleeve!”

“You don’t need to hear that,” Tim said. “Trust me, things always get… heated between them, when Jason is brought up. That’s not something you need to witness.”

Jason, huh? That must be the linchpin in this entire investigation. Dick had never mentioned a Jason before, but he was clearly important if the entire family got bent out of shape for him. Did Dick cut contact with Bruce because of this Jason? Did Jason force Dick to do it? Dick would never abandon his family like that, Danny knew this had to be true because of his determination in trying to take Danny home, but if he was forced to stay away… Maybe Jason is an associate of Bruce that Dick hates?

Danny finally managed to jerk his arm away. His entire hand ached. “You don’t have to drag me!”

Shock crossed Tim’s face, like he’d finally realized what he was doing, before it fell. “I’m sorry, Danny. I shouldn’t have pulled you. It’s just… Jason isn’t something you should hear about, at your age. I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring him up, especially around Bruce. Okay?”

Studying the boy, Danny agreed. Sounds like Jason’s some sort of criminal contact, so it was best to behave carefully. Danny kicked at the ground, scraping dirt off onto the carpet that ran in the center of the hall. “So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” He asked. “I don’t need a tour, I’m not a baby.”

Tim rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I just spent the night in the library, working on a case? If you want to lend a hand with that?”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “I thought you just woke up?”

“...Just because I was in the library doesn’t mean I was awake the entire time.”

Ah, a fellow insomniac. His eyes narrowed further. “I only like interesting cases. What kind are we talking about? Fraud? Robbery? Some dinky school kid project?”

“Multiple homicides. If that’s interesting enough for you?”

“...Carry on.”

A/N: Anyway, I’m using @/jedipirateking’s age chart for the ages of Batman characters. Since we’re right before Under the Red Hood, that makes Dick 24. Danny is roughly a year younger than Damian, but was originally 17 before he was deaged.

Dick: Yes, this is my feral street child. Danny: *foaming at the mouth, swearing*

Tim, internally: Oh! Dick must have already informed Danny about our identities! They work on cases together too, maybe we can work on one to bond? Danny, internally: Wow, rich people have weird ass hobbies

Danny: *so close, yet so far from figuring out the Jason thing* Red Hood: Did someone just walk over my fucking grave again?

Yes, some things are being kept vague on purpose. That’s for a better reveal in the future.

@starlightcat04 @maeashryver @widderwise @darkstarsapocalypse @sisma @luminanightfall @storm-fire98 @amyheart19 @collectingthegoods @redhoneysugarorange @lordfirecat2004 @screechingnoises @meira-3919 @dannyphannypack @satisfactionbroughtmeback @rowanaway-fromthisbs @i-always-say-yea @avelnfear @some-rotten-nest @ark12 @heirxofxtime @akikkobara @blep-23 @skulld3mort-1fan @markus209 @stargirl1331 @onlyhereforthechaos @inth3world @awkwardmaiden @fantasticbluebirdfan @currant-owo @alice-hazelwood @screamingtofillthevoid @crystalqueertea @gaelicholiday @gmkelz11 @mattybook1987-blog @bytheoldwillowtree @apointlessbox @chemical-pepis @ghostface3100 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @bathildaburp @boo-ghosties @bubblemixer @halfalix @lyra689 @dragon-dancer16 @lunadoll36 @mimilikey @hellomygay @frogs-are-pretty-awesom @overtherose @cyrwrites @your-emo-nightmare @lexdamo @roman4517 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @raginblastocyst @thegatorsgoose @fisticuffsatapplebees @olivethetreebitch @vixen-uchiha @ae-vixrose @joseph557 @kisatamao @gin2212 @thewondersoflebanon @d4ydr34min9 @malice-of-the-sunrise @tiblii @that-awkward-fae-nerd @aph-mable @dolfay @ghostreblogging @wackyattack @writer-extraordinaire @boo-ghosties @coruscateselene @emergentpanda-blog

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dpxdc #constantine jr au #c: danny fenton #c: nightwing #c: tim drake #c: alfred pennyworth #c: bruce wayne #c: jason todd #fictag dgvg

285 notes · View notes

frownyalfred · 11 months ago

Note

hi!

thinking of superbat hours in my brain today and i'm on the topic of secret relationship superbat, because this is the most comedic-potential and angst-potential iteration for them. but i'm thinking of comedic potential version rn

(also side note - when you made a post on the kissing for immunity thing you said that you were ignoring the angsty implications (or smth like that about angst) and i genuinely cannot comprehend anything being angsty in that scenario??? what were you thinking of for that)

anyway, back to my thing. i'm thinking maybe clark speeds over to gotham at night sometimes to sleep with (both euphisimistically & not, bcs bruce needs all the sleep he can get and clark being the only one to be able to keep him safe while he sleeps is my jam), and leaves in the morning before anyone knows (ofc, alfred knows and idk if superbat would know alfred knows, but he would approve).

one morning, after clark's left, bruce wakes up sick - feverish, sore, headachy, nauseous, tired, the whole gamut - and being the idiot he is he simply. goes about his day. maybe he takes some tylenol or something but he definitely isn't a good example of what to do when unwell. and he almost goes out for patrol, with damian, but his heart rate spikes dangerously while he's suiting up and clark hears this (he is very attuned to bruce's heart even from cities away) and his Bruce Is Being Stupid Again senses go up (it's the spidey sense but bruce) and he speeds there immediately.

he finds bruce about to put on his gloves and cowl and is like "no, absolutely not" and stops bruce, who ofc gets annoyed and says smth like "no metas in gotham" and clark, trying to get him to stop, v tenderly brushes his hair out of his face and gently holds him and coaxes him into sitting down and resting, "babe, no, please"-ing him out of costume into regular human clothes, and giving him kisses (for immunity of course!) and calming bruce down.

he's going to drop bruce back to his/their bedroom when he realises that damian's seen them kiss so he thinks "oh, shit" but damian's more concerned for his seemingly-infallible dad being so sick. the next morning alfred wakes clark up for breakfast and thanks him for keeping bruce safe in a way alfred has never been able to. dadfred supremacy (dilf).

have a great friday today! idk if you work weekends but if you don't - have a good time off! if you do, have an easy day at work :)

oh I loved this!! thank you for sending it. as for the angsty microbiome post. I was thinking more about ways that having an alien microbe inside of you could make Bruce sick, or cause irreparable damage from an immune response. Or maybe change Bruce into some sort of Kryptonian/Human hybrid, but not a stable one. Or simply give him abilities or longevity that would change him beyond his comfort level.

#asks #anon #bruce wayne #batman #dc #clark kent #superbat #batfamily #superman #kryptonian biology

135 notes · View notes

ello-sims · 22 days ago

Text

I'm going to be away for three weeks (my best friend is getting married 🥺) and I wanted to leave you guys with some downloads but by some strange twist of fate, I've actually been playing?!! lol Probably this time last year (I really don't want to check because it is probably that long ago...) I said I wanted to start a new uberhood and now I'm finally getting round to it!

I've decided instead of doing a full uberhood, I'm gonna focus on the hoods I have more head canons for/fits my gameplay so I am combining Pleaantview, Bluewater Village, Downtown, Belladonna Cove + Arbordale, a hood made up of the uni sims and their families (SSU and LFT sims by @spookierswamp and ALT + the neighbourhood by @spookymuffinsims. Thank you both so much!). I'm starting my rotation (oddly) with the oldest uni sims and speedrunning them to get to where they canonically start so, introducing Jane Stacks and Gunnar Roque!

Does anyone else have a sim or two who is pretty minor to the series, doesn't have a ton of backstory, doesn't appear in any other titles, but you still love them full-heartedly? Because mine is Jane lol. I just think she's absolutely lovely 🥰 (please let me know yours in the notes!)

Neat freak, ghost geek, trinket store connoisseur. Jane’s a physics student with a thing for the paranormal, but don’t bring aliens into it, she’ll roll her eyes mid-seance. Caught somewhere between science and spooky, she’s just trying to keep the archive in order and the spirits in check. 🧤📚👻

Originally from Belladonna Cove where she lives with her mums Matilda and Sylvia-Ruth and her puppo Flapjack, with her love for the paranormal, the environment and weather, my personal goal for her is for her to earn a wishing well 😌

Loud music, louder opinions, suspiciously vintage jacket. Gunnar’s a history major with a soft spot for drama—on stage and off. He’s more eyeliner than essay, but somehow still scrapes a pass. Don’t ask how, he’s not telling. 🎸📜🖤

A 'Downtown Degenerate' as he likes to call himself, he's swapped their mean streets (where he lives with his annoyingly wholesome and supportive dads, Christian and Gosta, 'way to ruin my street cred, dads...') for LFT. My plan for him is to see if living off tips from playing instruments on community lots is sustainable. I veered v far away from the nu-metal vibe of his original outfit but I am v happy with this little lookbook I made him lol

I will be back with lot makeovers and gameplay when I am back but excited to start this finally, ahh!

#uberhood #jane stacks #gunnar roque #intros

32 notes · View notes

wolfwillowisp · 3 months ago

Text

Anyways, as i was saying, in her video essay "On the Ethics of Boinking Animal People" Patrica Taxxon describes some furry artwork as 'sensory and autistic' and those descriptors I think, really vibe with me, as an autistic person, they vibe with my own like. Personal image of what the transformers ARE. They aren't mass-shifting robots, they're solidly megafaunal animals, they're animals as much as you or I, the Transformers of the world of Men and Machines, my Transformers, are animal, tactile, beings, they all evolved from a common ancestor, they eat, they sleep, they are capable of performing horrific acts of cruelty to each other, but they also embrace and hold each other, they roughhouse and they cradle their children withe the very same hands they use to kill their enemies. This is a species of animal that, in order to successfully reproduce, must quite literally bare their soul to their mate. They have no shame with regards to touch sexual or non, because when you live for millions upon millions of years, your animal nature becomes something you cant ignore. the question then becomes, what do you view in the animal? Do you heed the words of naturalists long dead, nature red in tooth and claw, and sit atop a pyramid where only the strongest lead, leaving even the kindred of eagles and azhdarchids to match you only with underhandedness and subterfuge? Or do you see the truth, that yes, nature is bloody, but she is also just as kind. A chimpanzee can brutally smash a smaller mammal with a rock to kill it, but he does so to feed himself and his troop, and later, they will spend the heat of the afternoon picking the parasites from each other's fur. I come from a society that only allows men to show the tactile comfort of the great apes with anyone other than their sexual partners, during war. In the United States, the image of war is a sort of twisted intimacy, only in war can men hold and hug each other, can they hold hands, can they cry into each other's shoulders, can they mourn. What does this mean, then, for a war that goes by one name and one name only- The Forever War. What does that mean for a war that has been fought for so long, that when it broke out, the apex predator of North America was not Man or Bear, or Sabre-Cat, But Tyrannosaurus rex.

I think the aliens should platonically kiss each other on the mouth. WITH TONGUE. Which they have. Because they're animals.

Men and Machines is so. It’s so tactile. Which is a really weird thing to say about a transformers fan canon but like. It reminds me of the way Patrica Taxxon describes some Furry art as sensory. Like I don’t know I just. It’s tactile. They should have a very physical presence to them.

I think I’ll elaborate more on this later.

#men and machines #When I went into writing this I was not expecting this #to be the THEYRE NOT ROBOTS THEYRE NOT ROBOTS speech but uh- Sure turned out that way!!#but yeah I have lots of thoughts on this #do NOT give the funny aliens a nuclear family structure you are KILLING THEM #they need platonic sex and cuddling and roughhousing to survive!!!!!#god I have GOT to write more abt the cons ougghh #the nemesis is a literal actual behavioral sink. and it has nothing to do with the population on board #but yea the autobots are v touchy feely. always kissing and hugging and cuddling and nuzzling each other #AND GOD GOD!!!!! THIS DIDNT WVEN GET INTK THE SIZE!!!!! OF THERI INTERACTIONS WITH HUMANS OT THE SOMEK THING #UGH #AUAGH #BRAIN EMPTY FULL OF. DRUCK. WHO IS ALSO A DAD

7 notes · View notes

galaxyedging · 3 months ago

Text

Kermit (I've decided his name is Renè Rana) SNL x f!reader, Daniel SNL x f!reader.

(I saw a post about them being cousins, and I can't find it to tag the person for the fun idea).

WC:2k

Summary: You decide to mix business and personal matters when you meet Renè 'Kermit' Rana.

Warnings: Smut. Male masturbation. P in V sex. Mentions of other sex acts. Slight power imbalance.

The XXX Files

Getting into the academy had been hard. There had been all kinds of tests and drills to pass. It had taken years for you to earn your place, to truly fit in, and to be respected amongst your peers. Why shouldn't you reap some benefits?

Alien abduction cases always drew a certain type of person. There was nothing wrong with that. They were just a little more…impressionable than your average person. They weren't exactly strong personality types. It didn't exactly make them ideal to support your job. It did make them ideal for supporting your personal life. People like that seemed to have a thing for strong, authoritative women and every now and then you found someone you could work with.

Under his bad outfit and god awful hair, Renè Rana could definitely be worked with. The old vest he wore highlighted his broad shoulders. The dad-like cargo shorts showed off his muscular legs. The cheap, ugly t-shirt cut off at the right length to cling to his biceps, showcasing them perfectly. The surprisingly neat moustache he kept accentuated his full lips. The way he flirted with you and the other agents showed off those beautiful, deep, brown eyes. Best of all he was eager and willing.

Renè’s double wide sat in a clearing on the edge of the forest half a mile out of town. When you asked about the location he had told you how it suits his purposes, plus the ladies can scream as loud as they want. It was duly noted. A string of warm light bulbs hang from the awning alongside a bug zapper. There are a couple of low wooden chairs around a fire pit in the clearing outside. The place does look homely, more so than you'd expect from a man like Renè. Inside the trailer matches the outside.

“I always tidy up for women of your calibre.” Renè informs you as you step inside the surprisingly neat and tidy trailer. “Beer? I bought some imported stuff.”

“No, I'm good. Thanks. I'd rather just get down to it.” You slip off your jacket as you speak.

Coming straight from work you still wore your pants suit, blouse and sensible heels.

Renè nearly chokes on his own beer at your words. “Yes, Ma’am.”

Rushing around the breakfast bar that serves to separate his kitchenette from his living space, he shrugs off his vest and pulls his t-shirt up over his head, dumping them both on the floor.

“Eager.” You smile at him.

Standing, you thread your fingers into his shockingly soft hair to draw him in for a kiss.

Eager didn't even begin to cover it. Renè's hands explored your body heavier and more thoroughly than an angry TSA agent. His tongue probed yours more extensively than even the wildest abduction stories you had been told. His growing bulge rutted against your side like your neighbour’s Maltese will do against your shoe if you aren't quick enough to dodge him. His hands had settled on your breasts, his movements were uncoordinated but pleasing enough. When he started moaning loudly, you thought he might come in his cargo shorts.

“Renè? I'd really like to play a game.” You purr in his ear. Since he's lost too far in groping you have to give him a little shove to get his attention.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, babe, what-whatever you want.” His hands, lips and heavy cock never leave you.

“Kermit!” you resort to using his ridiculous, however apt, nickname and give his hair a sharp tug. He gives another long moan at that. Perfect.

“Sorry. It's just been a while since I had a woman as beautiful and classy as you.” His earnest flattery was kind of cute.

“Strip for me.” The words barely left your mouth before Renè was naked, apart from his socks, in his living room. His slightly shorter than average cock stood proud and leaking. His balls are large and heavy, your mouth waters at the sight.

Settling back on the threadbare sofa, you give your first command. “Touch yourself for me.”

“Touch my-myself?” Renè blinks at you. “I can do that whenever. I did before you came. You know, get the easy one out of the way? D-don’t you want to touch me?”

“Oh, I will. It just gets me all hot to watch guys jerk off.” Renè spat in his hand and started to fuck his fist aggressively before you could offer him something to get off to.

Slipping out of your blouse and bra you caress your tits for him. The soothing action makes you even more tired. It’s been a while since you've eaten, work has been hectic.

“Fuck.” Renè’s hand movements stuttering bring your attention back to him.

In less than a minute, he’s spilling his load with a whimper. Luckily, you are fast enough to catch every drop on your tongue so it doesn't go to waste.

“Ooo-weeee. That was something.” He chuckles as you clean him off with your tongue.

Humming briefly in agreement, you let him slip from your mouth.

“Now, I owe you a little something…” Just as Renè drops down to his knees with you, the door his trailer swings open.

“Hey, a fight broke out at the bar. They threw us all out. I brought beer I figured we could…” a voice comes from behind a couple of grocery bags overflowing with snacks.

“Daniel! Am kinda in the middle of something here!” Renè hisses.

Daniel drops the bags on the counter and finally see’s what is going on. “Shit! Sorry! Ma’am” he tips his baseball cap at you politely.

It would have been more polite if he wasn't staring at your tits the entire time.

“It's not a problem. I'm sorry about your plans being ruined. Why do you join us?” Both men stare at you slack jawed as you remove your heels and pants. Now fully nudes you beckon Daniel over.

Renè looks at you bemused.

“What? There's plenty of me to go around and you need a little time to recharge. Go sit over there.” You jutt your chin toward the bar stool in the corner. “This is just a little taste of what I'll do to you.”

Daniel had been standing there just as eager as his friend, still slack jawed and staring at your tits. He didn't object as you pulled off his belt and shoved him back onto the sofa. He didn't stop you from pulling his jeans and football themed boxers down his muscular thighs. He certainly didn't stop you from sinking down on his short, girthy length.

“Oh. Fuck. Fuck. Is this really happening? Jesus.” Daniel lay back, letting you ride him, his head pressed back into the cushions in pleasure.

All the while you kept your eyes locked with Renè. Fucking Daniel was pretty good. He was attractive, his cut cock was thick and filling. He was as submissive as his friend. Still you come here for Renè. He was your sure thing.

“Oh. Oh fuck. Shit, baby, just like that. Ride me. Those tit look awesome when you bounce on me. You gonna cream all over my cock?” You exaggerated your moans to cover up Daniel’s waffling. “Yeah. You fucking love my big cock don't you. Taking it bare. Fucking dirty girl. I don't even know your name. Ugh. Oh. Oh my god!”

Daniel starts to fuck up into you as he comes. His load is big and it gives you more of what you need. Dragging your hips back and forth over him, milking him until you start to glow.

‘What the shit?!” Daniel's eyes widen as he starts to buck you off. It only serves to pump the last of his come inside you and trigger your orgasm.

“Yes! Yes! God, yes!” Your toes curl and your thighs clamp around Daniel keeping him in place.

“You're one of them, ain't you?” Renè is gleeful as he approaches you.

“Fuck. One of what? One of what?!” Daniel panics underneath you.

“An alien.” Renè casually dismisses Daniel. “God, you're beautiful. What can I do for you, my queen?”

“You can stop your friend freaking out before I have to.” Daniel began to freak out worse at your words.

“Hey, cuz, get it together.” Renè claps his hands at Daniel. “If you don't I'll tell your mama what really happened to her pies that one Thanksgiving.”

As if ice cold water had thrown on him Daniel calms down. Letting him up, he stands on shaking legs. Renè guides him to his bedroom, grabbing a bottle of whiskey on the way.

“Sleep it off.” Renè calls as he closes the door behind him.

“Thank you. Now why don't I take care of that for you?” You gesture to Renè's painful looking erection.

“First, I want some answers.” Renè apparently had more about him than you thought.

Sitting back down, you nod for him to continue.

“Erm. I-wh-why did you do that glowy thing.” Renè finally settles on.

“I hadn't eaten in a while. I was replenishing myself.”

“Replenishing?”

“Be honest, how many times have you tried to tell a woman that swallowing your load is good for her?”

Renè grins. “Once or twice.”

“Well for my kind. It is good for us. It's the only thing on your planet that can truly nurious us. Whether we ingest it or absorb it is a matter of taste. Absorption is quicker, especially through a mucus membrane.”

“So you just want me for my spunk?” Renè asks.

For a second you feel bad for all you know Renè is looking for love or a high calling. Maybe he thought he was special, in a way he is, he was vetted as a very good donor. Your cover job allows you access to all the people your people screen. You quickly try to think of something nice to say.

“That's…awesome! Are you still hungry or not nourished or whatever?”

Renè’s eagerness returns.

“I could eat.” you smile.

“Great. Now you say absorb. Does that work in any other holes or…?”

“I don't actually know. You want to find out?”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Renè eagerly spit lubes his cock while you teasingly bend over his breakfast bar.

The whole trailer rocked as you found out that that way works too and that Renè is a very keen donor. His method was surprisingly scientific. He insisted on filling each hole and splashing his come over various body parts before you had to leave the next evening. His quip about his trailer being perfect for women to scream as loud as they want was on point too. The two of you sounded like feral animals. Once Renè found his groove his was actually a fantastic fuck. He even had you coming so hard you screamed in your native tongue. The high pitched shriek wasn't for everyone but Renè loved it. He went down on you for an hour just to hear it as many times as he could.

Waving you off home, fed and satisfied, Renè dropped on his sofa still bare assed and looked at his poor, overworked cock. Even if it shrivelled up and fell off right this second he wouldn't care. He has had the best night of his life. He'd got it up six times in twenty-four hours. Not half bad for a guy his age. He'd put work in and got you to do that amazing scream seventeen times. Your cum was on his face, thigh, fingers, all over his junk.

He was debating putting an ice pack on his spent balls when he heard a noise from the back of his trailer.

A very dishevelled looking Daniel stumbled out of the bedroom.

“Is it..is it over?”

“Yeah.” Renè sighed happily. “Come on, man. I'll take you to the bar. I'll get you some chicken wings.”

“I don't know, I…chicken wings? I could go for some wings.” Daniel agreed absencently.

“There you go!” Renè clapped a hand to his cousin's back and led him toward the door.

“Renè? I think you need pants.” Daniel reminded his cousin.

“Oh, yeah. My bad.” Renè shuffled into some cargo shorts.

“Did we…did we fuck an alien?”

“Yeah.”

“It is weird that it was good?”

“Nope.”

“Can I do it again?”

“Maybe.”

“Cool. Wings?”

“Wings.”

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #kermit snl #daniel snl #smut #x f!reader

38 notes · View notes

in4newz · 3 months ago

Text

To my Asian, European, African, and Canadian friends...do y'all wanna know how the United States found itself under a fascist, Hitler-loving dictator named Donald Trump?

In another post, I started my timeline in 1980. The year I was born. But, it was also a turning point in US politics.

First, let me share my credentials.

- Bachelors of Arts - History

- Juris Doctor - Public Interest Law (Critical Race Theory)

- Masters of Philosophy (research degree) - Sociology (Race, Ethnicity, Conflict)

Just recently, we buried President Jimmy Carter, who was the president, when I was born. Jimmy was from Georgia, like my grandmother, and he came from a Southern Baptist background. Southern Baptists are known for being very conservative Christians who did not support abortion.

Jimmy, despite that background, actually supported LGBTQ rights by lifting a federal ban. He supported Roe v. Wade which protected access to abortion. And, he established the federal Department of Education.

However, Jimmy had an antagonistic relationship with Congress, and that alienated several Democrats, including Ted Kennedy, who was the brother of John F. Kennedy, a president who was assassinated.

The Kennedy family has an established name brand due to JFK and Robert F Kennedy (another brother and JFK's attorney general who was also assassinated). Ted was the younger, drunken brother who caused the accidental death of a college friend.

In 1980, Ted challenged Jimmy for the presidency even though they were both Democrats. Jimmy has the incumbent shouldn't have faced a challenge from his own party, but he had just been that bad.

So, this internal strife weakened the Democratic Party entering the 1980 election. In that same year, Jimmy boycotted the 1980 Olympics in Russia due to Russia's invasion of Afghanistan. Furthermore, there was a recession.

The Republican Party nominee was a former Hollywood actor turned politician named Ronald Reagan. Ronald was the governor of California and was trailing Jimmy in the polls until a presidential debate in which Ronald used his acting skills to make Jimmy seem incompetent.

Ronald believed in "trickle down economics." He believed that if the wealthiest people were taxed less, then they would spend more, thus boosting the economy and allowing prosperity to "trickle down" to the working & Middle class.

He also believed in increased military spending as this was the height of the Cold War with Russia. My own parents voted for Reagan because my dad was in the military.

Instead of trickling down, the wealthy just grew wealthier. Republicans continued to lower taxes for these individuals and businesses, so the money never trickled down. Social services were underfunded & unemployment increased. Reagan's response was to blame Black "welfare mothers" for abusing the system.

Republicans latch onto this. They implement work requirements for government assistance and make it harder for folks to pull out of poverty. As a result, a wealth gap separated white folk from the rest. White folk felt their hard earned money was supporting lazy white & Black folk, so they continued to constrict welfare programs.

[Section added] During Reagan's term, an unknown illness is killing young, gay Black & Latino men. It's AIDs. Reagan deemed it a gay disease that only affects gay people, so no funding is allocated to study this disease. It's viewed as retribution for their homosexua lifestyle. However, overtime, they learn about HIV once non-gay men were infected. Children die from the disease because blood is not tested for it, so some are born from it through their mothers while others were given transfusions.

Under Reagan, the Fairness Doctrine ends. Under this doctrine, news agencies had to report both sides of an issue. Because of this, television stations can now present one side. Fox News opens as a conservative network.

Ronald is well-loved by white folk. He gets elected to two terms. By the end of his term, the economy has recovered, and white folk are prospering. Then, his VP, George H.W. Bush, is elected.

Under George I, the Cold War ends, but we have the Gulf War in Kuwait. He signs trade agreements that result in several American companies, namely the auto industry, to shutter their doors and build factories overseas. This is due to a change in tariffs!

Millions of Americans lose their jobs as factories close. Detroit, as the leading auto manufacturer city, is devastated. Back in the 90s, Detroit was the 4th largest US city after Chicago. These factory closures hit the Midwest, especially hard.

This makes Bush unpopular. He is challenged by a young, charismatic Democrat named Bill Clinton.

Bill was a southerner like Jimmy, but Bill was a very well-known ladies' man. Bill appeals to Black Americans, though, and that allows him to defeat George.

Bill continues expanding trade agreements. He's a fiscal conservative despite being a Democrat, and under Bill, military spending is reduced.

[Section added] The rise of AIDs leads to further hate directed at the LGBTQ. During the 90s, several queer people are murdered. One such kid was Matthew Shepard. A college kid in Wyoming, he is beaten by a gang of white men. His family was terrorized so much, that they couldn't bury him because of fears his grave would be desecrated.

[A white woman Bishop in DC invites Shepard's parents to bury him in their graveyard. That Bishop is Marian Edgar Budde, the same Bishop who gave Trump his inaugural sermon this past week. She pleaded for Trump to have mercy on the queer community because she was the Bishop who buried Shepard!]

Bill is a popular president. The economy is booming, but he's still a lady's man, and he gets in trouble with a college intern.

This scandal adversely impacts the last few years in office so much so that his VP, Al Gore, loses the presidency to George W. Bush.

George Bush won the Electoral College while Al Gore won the popular vote. There was such a tiny margin that there were numerous recounts because of faulty ballots (hanging chads). Eventually, the Supreme Court intervenes and tells them to stop the count and certify George as president.

George II is the son of George I.

George II is a popular Texan with swagger. He wants to build up the military once again.

Clinton left a surplus of money, so what did George II do? He implemented tax cuts for the wealthy. That damned "trickle down economics" again. The wealthy get wealthier, increasing the wealth gap between white folks and everybody else.

They cut taxes while cutting social services. One of his biggest "achievements" was a restructuring of our educational system called "No Child Left Behind."

NCLB emphasizes test scores. School administrations are penalized if they don't meet these standards. They lost funding, so electives such as home economics, art, Music, etc are trimmed to make room for these test standards. By this time, my dad has retired from the military and is a school principal, and I remember the stress of trying to meet these standards.

These standards emphasize STEM at the expense of liberal arts. This is happening just as the internet becomes available to all.

Amazon opens as an online used book store. Facebook is started as a college message board. There's a tech boom, so everyone is being pushed into tech fields. Liberal arts education was devalued.

During his term, 9-11 happens. We declare war on Afghanistan. Islamophobia spikes. Fox News helps drive this narrative. Christianity is now being pushed into schools, whereas schools were previously secular.

[Section added] In 2004, the assault rifle ban was lifted. Now we are seeing a dramatic spike in school shootings. The Far Right embraces the expansion of the 2nd Amendment.

Then, we go to war in Iraq.

We aren't quite sure why we're at war with Iraq. We overthrow Suddam Hussein (from the Gulf War). George declares victory, then terminates the Iraqi Army.

This triggers an insurrection. Massive casualties are coming out of Iraq. The war in Afghanistan is overshadowed.

George serves two terms, but his VP is so unpopular that he doesn't run for president. Instead, the Republican nominee is John McCain.

Two Democrats fight for the nomination. Hillary Clinton, the wife of Bill, and Barack Obama.

Barack was a young, biracial Senator from Illinois. I attended law school in Illinois, and one of my classmates had been his legislative aide. I met Barack twice while a student. The first time, he had come to campus to propose a college-savings account. After his press conference, I latched onto his arm and refused to let go until he heard me, and I explained that his proposal was unrealistic because it assumed that a single mother would have the resources to save for an education when it was more likely her money would go towards groceries & rent or other immediate needs. (Fast forward two-three years, and the dude is repeating my line during the State of the Union! I had changed his mind!)

Barack beats Hillary for the nomination. He defeats McCain and is sworn in as the 1st black (not Black) president.

Obama is popular and well-loved by most Americans. Under his tenure, gay marriage is legalized.

Fox News triples down on their hatred.

Their network booms. They push Islamophobia 24/7. Highlight the fact that Obama's father was Muslim and that his middle name was Hussein.

Older Americans are watching program after program of this negativity. A movement starts called the Tea Party movement, which positions itself as a fiscally conservative movement. A bankrupt slumlord with a reality TV show gains popularity with these folks.

I wrote my master's dissertation on the Tea Party movement. It's called "Jesus and the White Man."

Donald Trump

Donald latches onto the Islamaphobia. He calls Barack by his middle name and questions his birth certificate. Donald grows popular with older Americans.

At the end of Obama's term, the son of VP Biden dies. This devastated Biden. He had lost his infant daughter & first wife in a car accident. He decides not to run for president.

Obama supports Hillary.

It is now Hillary v. Trump.

Trump pushes misogyny and Islamaphobia. Hillary is Bill's wife and a woman. She is the most qualified presidential candidate to ever run (at that time).

During Obama's last year in office, Justice Antonin Scalia* dies. Obama has the privilege to nominate that next Justice, but Mitch McConnell stalls through the election.

But older white Americans were barely okay with a black president. They were not about to let a woman serve as President. At the same time, an organization called Cambridge Analytica began to fine-tune an ultra conservative agenda.

With the help of Russian intelligence, they use Facebook ads to try to persuade voters to support Trump. They succeeded with white folk, but they did not succeed with the Black vote.

Russians used African bot farms in order to try to persuade Black Americans to support Trump. We rejected him at 90%.

Donald wins the Electoral College but not the popular vote.

Donald is a corrupt and ineffectual president. He tried to bribe foreign leaders and shared US intelligence with Russia.

However, as a populist, he latches onto the Christian Right. He nominates 3 Supreme Court Justices who lie during their confirmation hearings. These Justices will ultimately vote to overturn Roe v. Wade.

The Christian Right love this. But then COVID hits and the incompetence of Donald leads to millions of deaths. These Christian folk refuse to get vaccinated or wear masks.

Donald is an unpopular president and ranks as the worst president of all time.

Biden challenges him and wins.

Donald refuses to accept that he lost, so he organized an attempted coup. January 6th.

He's impeached. Twice.

McConnell refuses to take the step to have him permanently barred from office.

Biden takes office when COVID is still rampant. The Christian Right continue to push their agenda, seeking to remove protections for the LGBTQI.

Right wing media generates a lot of money. Podcasters jump on the bandwagon. Red pill content spills into the mainstream.

Kids who were isolated during COVID are now at home watching Joe Rogan & Theo Von. They spend hours upon hours on TikTok.

But unbeknownst to these kids is the history of Russian interference.

Schools emphasize STEM. They don't emphasize liberal arts or social sciences such as history or literature. The literacy rate plummeted to an all-time low. The average white American's reading level is at the 4th grade. They aren't able to engage in critical thinking.

They don't know the history of the Spanish Influenza. They don't know the history of a trade war that triggered the Great Depression. They don't know that our government has imprisoned citizens in internment camps. They don't know Hitler's rise to power.

In fact, Fox News frequently features individuals who deny the Holocaust.

Russia move their troll farms from Facebook to TikTok, where the algorithm serves as an echo chamber. Uneducated, illiterate folks gobble up 30-second videos but can't be arsed to watch anything over 5 minutes so complex issues are stripped down to sound bites.

The algorithm pushed right-wing fascist talking points. They rehabbed Donald while shifting Gen Z to the far right. They do not know how to verify information for themselves, so they gobble up misinformation and disinformation.

If a TikTok creator has millions of followers with thousands of views and likes, these kids assume that that info is factual. They do not vet shit for themselves.

Russia pushed anti-American propaganda that posed as pro-American talking points. Pushed isolationism. Pushed anti-democratic rhetoric. In fact, one of their greatest accomplishments is convincing Gen Z and uneducated, white Millennials into thinking we aren't a democracy.

We are a fucking Democratic Republic. Our constitution begins with: "We the people".

So, because of TikTok, Trump won.

That's why Biden was pushing for it to be banned before the election. The algorithm was being corrupted. But folks couldn't part from their addiction.

Folks who had been anti-Trump just 5 years ago are suddenly Trump supporters. They were brainwashed.

So, how did we get here?

We got here because most Americans are fucking STUPID.

Source

29 notes · View notes

maddyguru · 1 year ago

Note

hi!! i know that you’re not rlly used to writing for toji but can u do a Dad!Toji where he misses Mamaguro so much that he just took the habits of forcefully taking his need on his daughter? :v

Tw: dark content, father/daughter incest, non con, loss of virginity, toji has virgin kink?, creampie, minors and antis, do not interact

Toji loves his wife; she was the only one who could ever ignite that fire of love in his cold heart and so, he spent his days with his beloved woman until fate had decided that she would leave him behind in her early 30s.

It was a cruel fate that God had planned for him- putting him in this miserable world with his miserable family and then gifting him the most perfect woman he could ever think of and provide the love he craved, only to take her away from him just like that. She slipped right through his fingers. She was gone, leaving him and their little girl behind.

And as the young girl grew, the depressed toji began to see that she was oh so much alike to his late wife- her face, her mannerism, and her voice, they were all so close to the young girl's mother. And it led him to think,

That God didn't really forget about him. God took away his beloved wife, only to replace her with their pretty daughter.

You were his to love. To own. To take. Who else would want and love you if not your own old man? Ah, God didn't forget about Toji after all.

He snuck into your room at night, waking you up from your slumber only to start ripping away your clothes that he provided to you. He couldn't atop himself from the urge to claim what is his- he ignored your scared cries as you lie naked, bare in front of him like your mother once was- only, she wasn't crying from fear.

When toji took your first time, he cried. Because God really made you to be his. Your virginity was proof that you are his to own, and that you were waiting for him all along. His cock twitched excitedly at the feeling of your gummy, tight, and velvety pussy and the droplets of your virgin blood running down his cock. You were crying so hard and begged him to take out his huge cock; but you didn't understand. No matter. He will make you understand.

It didn't really hurt him when he starts fucking you. Although, he's sure that your body and mind is hurting at this moment. His sloppy thrust was alien to you, given that you've never fucked anyone before. Toji wished he could do something about you crying and having a panic attack from his actions, but his happiness is what matters most. Yours come second.

"dad, please, stop..."

"dad, it hurts..."

"dad, it's too much..."

"dad, please..."

"dad, I'm bleeding..."

Your pleas were left unheard, as he continued using you again and again and cumming inside your pure womb.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #tw.smut #tw. noncon #tw.blood #tw.incest #tw.dark content #tw. violence

183 notes · View notes

sailingintothenight · 6 months ago

Text

“DARLING, YOU.”

FutureDad!Tom Holland x actress!reader.

Summary: On a rainy day, (Y/N) broke up with Tom and never looked back. The reason is still a mystery, is a secret you never told anyone. But after 4 years and a hopeless night, you and Tom must face the next 9 months together while you two decide whether you can pick up your life where you left off or the resentment will be too much to forgive and forget. But how easy can it be when there is a new girl in his life and a possible new love in your own?

A/N: Hello everyone. It's been over 4 years since I first posted this story, and I thought it was lost and forgotten, but after all this time, I realized that I still want to keep writing about Tom. My depression has taken me to some very dark places, preventing me from continuing with this page, but I still have affection for it, so I don't want to let it go just yet. I'm sure no one remembers this story anymore hehehe but I want to see how far I can go with it, even if only one person likes it. So, here I am! I hope you give it a chance again. Thank you so much! - V.

(Just in case you haven't notice, Timothée Chalamet will be (Y/N)' romantic interest because i'm delulu and i love him as well hehe)

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 00

CHAPTER 01

“I’m pregnant, Ryan.”

As a girl who grew tall but is still a girl on the inside, the world she knew has completely changed, scaring her, and as she waits, sitting on a bench on that playground for her older brother to react, everything seems like a strange and alien place, and silent tears threaten to fall easily down her tender, yet sad face. Her world doesn’t stop spinning and (Y/N) doesn’t know if it’s her fears or her pregnancy that causes the nausea that rises from the bottom of her stomach to the corner of her throat, although she believes it’s still too early for that. The pain in her chest makes her heart tighten, as painfully as her mother’s words that pierced her and turned to ashes the fire she thought she had to face the uncertain future that awaited her. So (Y/N) sighs deeply and exhales the air out of her body leaving her without strength or desire to continue, but she knows she has no choice now, because her body no longer belongs to her just like that house where she lived all her life.

She just hopes her brother doesn't have the same reaction than her parents.

“We're happy about that, aren't we, love?” And to her surprise, he smiles, looking at her with eyes full of love, but he can't hide his concern. “The baby... Is it Tom's?”

(Y/N) nods softly, but she tries not to drown in the embarrassment.

“Don't ask how it happened.”

Ryan laughs softly.

“I have three kids, honey, I know exactly how it happened.” He holds his sister’s hand in her lap, sharing a bit of his warmth with her now that she feels like the world has frozen over. It’s comforting, though. “From your expression, I imagine Mom already knows, so I know well that she and Dad didn’t have the best of reactions.” Ryan sighs heavily, watching his twins play on that playground for a moment. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I know Mom and Dad love us, but they also loved the idea that marriage comes first. So… does Tom know it?”

(Y/N) nods again.

“Yes, he’s been very… kind, even after everything that happened.”

Ryan has a lot of questions, but he decides to start with the most important one.

“Are you guys going to keep the baby?”

“Yes.” (Y/N) lets out a held breath, but she can’t stop a thousand worries from stabbing her heart like daggers. “But I’m scared. I'm afraid I'm not going to be a good mother, that my good intentions aren't enough to raise a baby properly.”

Ryan shrugs, at peace with himself, because he harbored those doubts too.

“No one magically knows how to raise a child, baby, that’s something you learn along the way, but I always thought of you as a very warm person, with a lot of love to give, and I trust that that’s the pillar with which you lay the foundation to raise your child: the rest, like changing diapers, preparing milk, putting them to sleep, is something you learn with time and that’s something you already know how to do. You helped me with my children even though you lived between movies, traveling most of the time. You know how to love, (Y/N), and that’s all a baby asks for, to be loved and protected. The rest comes on its own. Besides, the baby has a father, and if Tom loves him or her like he loved you, and I know he will, my nephew or niece will be the luckiest of all, okay?” Ryan tries to hold her gaze, but (Y/N) feels relief through the fear, and the feeling overflows over the edge of her heart, so she rests her head against his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, honey.”

“Promise?” she asks, in a little girl’s voice.

“I promise.”

A few minutes later, Danielle and Ethan, the twins who had just turned 7, run up to them when they see their favorite aunt. (Y/N) can feel the love flowing from their hearts towards her, and although she usually jokes that they only loved her because she was their only aunt, the truth is that the twins’ love was because (Y/N) loved them as if they were hers, just like Tom had said.

As the afternoon is about to end, and the weather changes, (Y/N) stops in front of Tom’s door, the key in her shaking hand. At that moment, (Y/N) thinks and wonders: Tom Holland must have been just a stranger since they said goodbye in the past, but how would she call him now? He was no longer her darling, her only, her love. Should she talk to him as if nothing had happened? As if they hadn’t broken up in the most feasible way? What is the appropriate distance between Tom and her? What is the metric system that must separate them so they don't cross the line again that got them into that situation in the first place? One half of her wished to stay in the warmth of the bed Tom handed her last night, and the other wished she could take her margarita and leave that place too.

Taking a ragged breath, she opens the door and walks in. Giving her a warm welcome, Tessa runs to the door, tail wagging, recognizing who her mom was as Tom used to call (Y/N) when they were together.

"Tom?"

“In the kitchen!” (Y/N) walks over with Tessa at her side, one hand holding her still flat belly, wondering if she was doing this to protect the tiny baby currently growing inside her, or for the baby to give her the courage to face the uncertain future. Stopping at the double glass doors, (Y/N) watches Tom serve dinner, dinner he didn’t have to make, leaving two plates on the granite table in the middle of the place. “I don’t know how to cook yet so please don’t be too picky with me. But I made your favorite: spaghetti with sausage…” Tom pauses, giving her a dubious look. “It’s still your favorite, isn’t it?”

(Y/N) nods, but guilt bubbles up inside her.

“Yeah.”

Tom can feel the relief in his bones.

“Great. Sit down, I’ll get something to drink.” Moving around the kitchen that is his, Tom can sense the reservations in her, but silently, and without pressure, he hopes that will change with time, although he knew they had to talk about it because, the best time to do things is now, right? (Y/N) takes a seat on the wooden chair, giving Tessa a couple of pats on the head at the same time as Tom places two cans of soda on the table, before sitting down as well. “So… everything went well with Ryan?”

“No. He’s mad at you for getting his little sister pregnant.”

“What?” Tom blinks, like a scared child, and she can’t help but laugh.

She needed that desperately, to laugh, even if it’s just a little bit.

“I’m sorry. I’m just kidding with you, Tom…” (Y/N) looks at him with a small smile, and it’s sweet because she always was. “Everything worked out. Ryan’s glad to finally be an uncle, he says I was already making him wait too long... and how did it go with your brothers?”

“Good, very good, actually. I don’t know which of the three is more excited to be an uncle.” Tom watches her for a few seconds, taking the spaghetti on her fork, but not bringing it to her mouth. “Should we… talk about how things will be when the baby arrives?”

(Y/N) swallows the lump in her throat, because she would like to avoid that conversation at all costs, she would like to stop wondering where the baby will live, if seeing the baby grow up in two homes is what he or she deserved.

“Can we talk about something less serious? Please?”

Tom nods when she looks into his eyes, pleading, and he can see the fear in them, the unanswered questions, the pain.

“I was thinking of several names.” Tom smiles shyly, but he can’t keep his joy quiet. “I couldn’t sleep thinking about it.”

“Oh, yeah?” (Y/N) manages to smile too. “Like which ones?”

Deep in his gaze, (Y/N) can see his nervousness, but also his endless happiness.

“Autumn or Marly if the baby is a girl, and Nathan or Noah if the baby is a boy.”

(Y/N), smiling but avoiding his gaze for a moment, takes a sausage on her fork, just to hide the fact that his happiness is contagious.

“They are very beautiful. I like them.” She looks into his eyes, before eating the sausage, and, although she doesn’t know it, that small action is comforting to him, because, in some way, that was his way of contributing to her pregnancy as a father. “The truth is that I haven’t thought about it yet, but if you agree, I would like to name her Rose if the baby is a girl.”

“Like your grandmother.” Tom can’t help but smile, and (Y/N) nods. “Autumn Rose Holland, sounds like perfect, don’t you think?”

Too perfect.

When they finish dinner, (Y/N) heads upstairs to her borrowed room, against her wishes because Tom wouldn’t let her do the dishes. But when he’s alone with his thoughts, because Tessa was determined to stay by (Y/N)’s side, his phone rings on the granite counter.

“Hey, Mum.” He answers, on speaker as he starts washing the dishes.

“Hey, honey, It's been a few days since we talked... Is (Y/N) okay? Are you okay?”

Tom sighs, because, even though their future together was uncertain, he wanted to do things right for his baby.

“(Y/N) is okay, she went upstairs to get ready for bed. I guess I’m okay too, but I’ll be better when she and I can figure things out.”

Nikki stays silent for a few long seconds.

“Tom, honey, have you thought about living together?”

“I tried to talk to her about it, but (Y/N) isn’t ready, and I don’t want to pressure her into talking about something that makes her uncomfortable. I want her and our baby to be okay, and with the little I read online these nights, it’s best that she doesn’t feel pressured about anything, so I’m going to wait until she’s ready to talk to me.”

Nikki laughs, softly.

“You still love her, don’t you? The way you want to take care of her, it sounds like you do.”

Tom thinks about it before speaking.

“I don’t know, mum. (Y/N) was the first girl I ever loved, and I loved her for a long time, almost my whole life, you know that.” He can’t help but laugh, smiling to himself. “I fell in love with her before I knew what love was. And I can’t lie to myself and not say that I lived part of my life following her around when we were kids, that she could say something and I would completely agree like a fool.”

Nikki smiles, even if he can't see her.

“Do you remember when you were kids and you didn’t want to go to the fair? But the moment (Y/N) told you that she wanted to go, you insisted that we go too. You changed your mind so quickly when things were about her.”

For some reason, Tom feels a little embarrassed that his mom noticed how deeply in love he was too. But it’s a nice, warm shame, like when you’re a kid and someone asks you if you’re in love with your classmate, and so that she or he doesn’t find out, you say no, even though deep down you know it’s a big lie.

“I guess after all… I still love her,” he says, in a low voice, as if that would make his mom not hear him.

“But is that enough for you two to get back together?” Nikki leaves the question hanging for a moment before continuing. “Your baby has the right to grow up in a united home, Tom, but you have to ask yourself what you want first. If you decide to raise the baby separately, it’s not the end of the world, because that won’t deprive him or her of the love you two will give your child. What I mean is that you look for what’s best for you too, because you’ll be a great father, I have no doubt about that, son.”

When they end the call, and in the middle of his meditation, Tom receives a text from the director of “The Devil All the Time.” It’s the last thing he wanted to read at that moment when his thoughts are spinning with the force of a hurricane, but Tom knows that he can’t avoid his responsibilities as an actor. With the phone in his pants pocket, he walks up the stairs until he stops at the guest room, silently wishing, amidst the constant confusion of his feelings, that (Y/N) had agreed to sleep in his room. Not together, he had thought, unless she wanted it that way.

He hated himself for thinking that way.

“(Y/N)? Can I come in?”

“Come in.”

When Tom enters, he laughs softly at the sight of Tessa on the bed, next to her. Sitting there, phone in hand, he knows he won’t be able to keep Tessa away from (Y/N), and that she also knows that the filming of the movie had been moved up two weeks, so they would both have to travel to Alabama the next day.

“I guess you got the same message I did.”

(Y/N) nods.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, you know? I think this will help us clear our minds until we can talk about this situation.”

Tom can’t help it, his brow furrowing into a worried expression.

“If I’m honest, I’d rather you stayed home. I’m worried you’d have to work extra and that might affect the baby.”

Home, he had said, but until they sorted out their current situation, she felt like she didn’t have a home of her own, even though he was offering her one.

“I know you’re worried about the baby, and I really appreciate it, Tom, but trust me when I tell you that I’m going to be okay, that I’m going to take care of the baby too, and that if at any point the stress gets too much, I’ll be able to stop myself.”

“I’m worried about you too, (Y/N).” His gaze is sincere, and she can’t help but get lost in his autumn-colored eyes, just like the name he wants for his daughter. “We’re in this together, and I know I can’t contribute much to your pregnancy, but I want to take care of you two as much as I can.”

Despite the constant nervousness she feels when she’s around him, (Y/N) manages to hold his gaze, steeling herself.

“I know, Tom, the baby is ours, and believe me, just having you here with me is comforting. The truth is, I’m really scared, and I think you must be too, but despite that, I can feel your love for the baby. And that’s all I need from you in this pregnancy. That, and you holding my hair if I can’t when the nausea starts.”

(Y/N) is joking, but she also means it, and Tom knows it well, because after so many years together, he can see through her like glass.

Tom smiles.

“Trust me, darling, this baby will be so loved that when he or she grows up, he or she will throw it in our faces that we smothered him or her with our love.”

(Y/N) chuckles.

“I’m sure of that.”

Tom wants to say more, he wants to include her in that suffocating love, but the barrier between them still exists, so, after saying goodnight, he leaves the room heading towards his own. But it’s ironic, isn’t it? as Tom receives a second text.

I can’t wait to see you, Tommy. – Hana.

Because in the solitude of the room, (Y/N) receives the same one.

I can’t wait to see you, darling, it’ll be fun to work together again. – Timmy.

Hey! I'm tagging the people who asked for it in the beginning, but if you don't want it anymore, just let me know please :)

@theresnooneheretosave

@jackiehollanderr

@darkwandanat

@thevelvetseries

@omi-my-beloved

@lilhoodhippie

@sesamepancakes

@kait4073

@boiolay

@mayal0pez

#tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #dad!tom holland #tom holland x actress!reader #dad!tom #tom holland x reader

36 notes · View notes

ritartistside · 7 months ago

Text

VENOM 3 MASSIVE SPOILERS

As the title says, these are my opinions and stuff from the Hungarian version, that I saw 1 hour ago.

Jesus Christ the Queerbaiting lol

First of all, my heart goes out to the people who belived that there will be anything edit: explicitly romantic. I am a comicbook fan, I had almost zero expectations bc I don't trust film studios, but even I felt kinda gooped.

Good God the marketing department went bananas mode and there was nothing behind it.

I hope the tiktok acount person at least feels a bit bad lol /j!

So, nothing romantic besides stuff like: "We have been together for a year", "You always take me out to eat to the best places", the line about Eddie being the sexiest man alive. Also, Venom told Eddie that he would be a great dad and Eddie cried.

No "I love you" no "Darling" no "My love" (at least in the Hungarian version)

Also there was a scene, where Venom licked food of Eddie's face with his tongue that came out of Eddie's mouth

Venom straight up dies in the end (very heroic, it's by acid and explosions and the is taking all the symbiote hunters/Xenophages down with him and protecing Eddie), but it's kinda implied that he may come back, and they introduced more of the the King in Black story with Knull.

Knull appeared for 3 minutes, incuding the post-credit scene impling much more to come.

I don't remeber the science girlies' names, but I think they were sapphic. They held hands for like 5 frames. I don't know if they were together since the begining, but in the end they probably were in love, hopefully. It was super blink and you will miss it, I am not impressed, (we deserve more than this, this was nothing, I really hope SONY won't be patting themselves on the back for LGBT rep) come on. One of them now has a symbiote, and they will probably appear in more movies. I hope people make gif sets of them and stuff, they would have been cute. One of them frees Venom, so he can reunite with Eddie.

There was a cool scene in a river, where Eddie was being chased by agents and Venom separated from him and used different organisms to get to Eddie.

The hippie family from the trailer, they were cute, I don't feel like they were annoying. They were (the father was) alien fans, on a roadtrip to see some. The mom might have died in the end, or they just didn't show her as much as the dad and kids, or my eyes are shit. The endig was visually very dark and I straight up didn't know what was happening sometimes.

The first half was perfect in my eyes. Eddie's moral degradation, eating people, acting like a predator (nice), saving dogs from a dog fight ring Venom controlling Eddie a lot during the fight scene, and later Eddie ,while separated from Venom, killing a person.

Lots of exposition that was repeated multiple times.

The thing that got me thinking was that Venom (and all other symbiotes) knew a LOT about the Xenophages and stuff. And like, he knew that they both won't be able to survive. So was the whole movie him trying to push the inavitable in time out as much as possible so he can spend some nice moments with Eddie, before the end? Or as they said, neither one of them wanted to die, but V was just hyping himself up for death? IDK, kinda cool if it is meant to be thought provoking, eh if it's just a plot hole and makes the movie seem kinda pointless.

Bar scene in the begining was cool, they started in MCU and quick change back to SONY.

Also IDK if the writers forgot, that Eddie said in LTBC that Venom takes care of Eddie being hungover, bc he had a pretty bad hangover for the first half of the movie, or if it was just V messing with Eddie, or him not doing stuff to Eddie's body if he doesn't explicitly asks him to (big if true, is probably not the case), but in the end, this is a non-issue

Multiple symbiotes with random hosts, the setting most of the time was in a lab under Area 51. Detective Mulligan was there for 10 minutes an died, he also had a symbiote.

The Xenophages were like woodchippers, more blood and swearing in this movie than I expected (positive for me, I liked it,).

I could go on and on, but these were the most important bits in my opinion.

I was not very impressed in general, but I had fun especially in the first half.

Read the comics <3

Also, my little sis cried her eyes OUT, so it is a pretty emotional movie to some.

Sorry for the spelling mistakes, as you probably can guess after the title, english in not my first language.

I hope you can enjoy this movie more than I could, my little sis loved it, she thinks this is the best from the trilogy

Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk

#sony venom #venom movie #venom #venom the last dance #venom symbiote #venom 3 #sony #eddie brock #symbrock #veddie #marvel #spoiler warning #spoilers #venom spoilers

39 notes · View notes