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yamithediaperdork · 3 years

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It's tradition! (Oc monster story)

The sun was setting and there was a chill in the air as the five new kids to Florence middle school met up with some of the 7th graders.

These five had been transferred to the new school after their old one had been shut down due to small class sizes and since they had joined up in the middle of October, they hadn't been part of the yearly ritual that apparently ALL sixth graders had to go though.

The ritual sounded dumb and made up to all five of the new boys, but they were eager to fit in feeling like outsiders in the much bigger school. Said ritual involved two things:

The first part was spending the night at the old Spencer mansion. All five boys had camped out in the woods over night so they weren't too worried about that. It was the second part that they weren't looking forward to.

See, the only thing the boys would be allowed to wear while spending the night was their shirts, socks, sneakers.... and 2 thick diapers that would be taped and signed at the waist to make sure there was no cheating.

They WERE free of course not to do it, but it was made clear they should expect to be ignored and met with disdain for not doing something that countless boys in the past had done, the girl's of course had their own ritual.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the big babies for the night." Tony, 7th grade leader said, with amusement in his voice. "I was starting to wonder if you were gonna chicken out."

"Like heck we would!" Matt huffed, being the smallest of the group he was used to lots of teasing and didn't handle it well.

"Easy Matt." David, the tallest and strongest of the group said, putting a hand on his cousins shoulder.

With their parents being so close it often fell to David to rein him in, or failing at that keep him from getting his butt kicked.

The other three didn't have much to say, and just stood there waiting to be told what to do next.

It lived in the basement of the mansion though it considered all of it to be it's home, and every year it found itself forced to hide as the insolent humans invaded for one night a year. It only allowed this to happened because it's existence relied on human's not knowing it was here and it made do with stalking those who came into it's home alone.

The 20-30 young males that would waddle around it's home was too many for it to hunt and be sure it could take care of, but as the doors opened and mere five entered the creature laughed to itself. A lesson would be taught, and it would be a dark one indeed. it would finish these boys off as it had others, they would be left for others to find, to scare them from coming to it's home ever again. Sliding along the floor and looking like a dark green slime it oozed it's way into a heating duct.

the hunt was on.

The boys were all too embarrassed to stay close together once inside, and agreed to go off and fine somewhere to sleep for the night on their own. they had a cooler with them they left in the living room of the old place, filled with bottles of milk and some snacks (the 7th graders weren't heartless after all)

Knowing that other boys had spent the night none of them were scared of any dangers and only David and Matt headed off together, David refusing to let the shorty out of his sight.

Mike had never been the most athletic of kids and had a bit of pudge on him, and as he waddled down the hall of the east side on the ground floor he had to keep reaching back and tugging out a diaper wedgie. The boys had been given flashlight since the place hadn't been on the grid for ages and Mike played the light on the walls now wondering if maybe he should of asked to got with David and Matt as he chewed his bottom lip. His brown hair was mating up despite the chill since unknown to the others, he still had to sleep with a night light.

"There's nothing to fear.. it's gonna be ok." Mike was repeating to himself softly as he spotted what looked like a old guest room.

the bed looked okish, though there was some sort of a shiny green sheet on it that seemed to dance in the light of his flashlight.

raising a eyebrow he moved in for a closer look, reaching out with a hand when the so called sheet came to life and lunged at him, wrapping around his face before he could scream and then it was pressing itself in his ears and..and..

The creature smirked, this one had been almost too easy and it found itself hoping the others would put up at least a little bit of more of a fight.

As the now nearly mindless human babbled and drooled, the creature took notice he was already soiling himself and moved on, there was still more prey to be found.

Travis had picked the upper east side and barely bothered with his flashlight. he was using to pitch black room and besides, more starlight shone in though the windows here. super lanky he had to actually keep reaching down to tug his diapers up, almost wishing they had down more tape.

"wouldn't that be just my luck, the stupid thing fall's off on it's own but I'm labeled a cheater." Travis muttered, before going to walk into what looked like a old game room.

he'd only taken a few steps though before shrieking and brushing at his normally dirty blond hair, as it was coated with spider webs he hadn't spotted and he was totally terrified of spiders.

Cursing and swearing, and positive he could feel them in his hair he took off running for the central stair case and was in such a panic he didn't see Lance until he'd almost run into the cue-ball.

"Hey! what's wrong?! I heard you yelling!" the wanna be wrestle asked, though his figure left much to be desired for his chosen field.

"Freaking spider's man! a ton of them! they're all in my hair an-" Travis was ranting and wiping at his hair.

"Dude relax, you got them all." Lance said, shining his light on Travis head then adding. "Sheesh, just spiders? You almost made me wet myself!"

Travis went to say something snarky when he realized that his own diaper was in fact damp and just shut up, hoping Lance wouldn't notice.

"..maybe splitting up wasn't a good idea. come on, let's go find Mike and the three of us can hang out. don't want anymore spider's to attack you." Lance teased and started down the stairs.

Travis just huffed and glared till Lance called back.

"Come on soggy butt!"

"...I hate that guy."

The two boys walked down the way Mike had come and though they called his name he didn't answer, something that had both of them on edge.

they could hear a gentle babbling like a baby would make but in the end they smelled Mike before they saw him.

He was still in the bedroom where unknown to the boys he'd been attacked and was laying on his back, babbling and drooling and trying in vain to get his foot up to his mouth.

"Uhhh Mike? Buddy? Yooou ok?" Travis asked, holding his nose and moving in to check on the little butter ball.

Shining his light on Mike's face, they could see his eyes were glazed over and Travis turned to Lance.

"Do you think he had a magic mushroom or something?"

"Who the hell is gonna sell shrooms to a 11 year old, and where would he get the money?" Lance pointed out."Maybe he just hit his head or something.Come on, help me get him to the living room, we can ask the 7th graders for help."

It watched with interest as two of the prey helped a fallen one, they couldn't of known there was no help for their fallen friend but it followed them, going along the ceiling silently and would let then reach the end of the hall before strike, giving one of them a porting chance to get outside.

With each of them supporting Mike, it was slow going but they were making it, till just as they were reaching the end of the hallways something out of a horror movie dropped down in front of them.

Travis dropped his side of Mike and took off running, any bravo he'd once had ending up in his diaper as he was again wetting himself as he ran as fast as he could, looking for somewhere to hide.

he did happen to look over his shoulder and saw the slime monster wrap itself around Lance's head, ignoring his attempts to peel it off and seemingly toying with him and he stumbled back and forth before slumping to the floor.

getting to a room at the end of the hall, Travis opened it and slammed the door behind him, though before the door had closed he'd heard two things.

the sound of Lance filling his diapers and a monstrous laughing.

The two brain drained ex prey's gurgled and babbled to each other, clearly not bothered but the smell they were making and harmless enough.

The creature thought about what to do next. already two of it's prey was gone, and a third knew of it, and was terrified. It could go after the other two, having already noted where they were and let this one fall into a false sense of security but then again it might make it outside.

choice made it went into the vents once again and headed towards the scared one.

Travis was curled up in the corner of the room, a old library and of course it didn't have any windows in it.rooting around for something to defend himself with he'd grabbed the biggest and heaviest book he could find and waited for the ..whatever the hell that thing was to come and get him.

"This isn't happening. this isn't real. you're just having a nightmare.." Travis mewed to himself, trying to calm his breathing and it was almost working.

till the thing flowed out of a vent in the floor, laughing as it rushed toward him. With nothing to lose Travis launched the book at the monster and it simply passed though it, and made the beast laugh harder.

All he could do was scream as loud as he could before it was on him, draining his brain and making anther permanent diaper filling moron.

"Hey David, did you heard that?" Matt asked, tilting his head as David made them a make shift bed out of blankets and pillows.

"I didn't hear anything and neither did you. Look just be good, stay by me and try not to be a pain in the ass for ONCE in your life." the bigger boy sighed.

though his back was turned to him, David knew that Matt was sticking his tongue out and flipping him off at the moment and wondered if maybe he shouldn't just give the brat a good old fashioned spanking.

the crinkling around his hips reminded him why such a thing would be pointless, and so he just got back to work.

they were in a landry room of sorts and while Matt had complained about not snagging a bedroom David had been correct in assuming they'd find enough clean bedding to fashion a comfy bed for the two.

"I'm borrrrred!" Matt declared, rocking on his heels and semi shaking his diaper butt, out of all them he was the one most used to diapers having been in bed time diapers till half way though grade five.

"well I'm sorry, but they didn't exactly let us bring game boys in." David snapped, finishing up with the bed and standing back to look his work over. "Well, what do yo-"

he had started to ask then yelped and jumped as Matt swatted his diapered ass.

"Ya did real good..heh..did I make you wet?" Matt asked, smirking and winking.

"Keep going brat and they'll never find the body." David growled, then as a wet farting sound was heard he asked with a look of amusement on his face. "..Matt did I just make you crap yourself?!"

"S-Shut up! it's not funny!" Matt huffed even as he squatted down, balling up his fists and pushing.

"Awww such a good widdle diaper dumper." David teased and patted Matt's head then easily caught the punch the brat went to though. "Watch it short stack, or you'll be getting a poopie butt spanking."

"T-That's not fairrrrr!" Matt wailed and plopped on his butt, kicking his feet and having a fit even as he kept pooping.

The creature paused as it came into the landry room, it could of sworn it hadn't attacked either of these two yet but the sounds and smells coming from one of them would beg to differ.

It had been some time since it's had a chance at multiple prey so maybe it had just lost count in it's excitement.

either way there was still one brain left to drain of that sweet sweet intellect and it saw no point in putting it off any longer.

Matt was to busy bawling like a big baby to notice the approach of the monster at first and David was too busy leaning down and taunting the little stinker to notice it at all.

it had come up from a floor drain and was rapidly heading for David and Matt honestly tried to warn him, but all he could do was point and try to sound the words.

"Awww, whats wrong BABY Matt?" David taunted.

"Mo..mo..mo.."

"Awww, are you trying to ask for momm-" David would never get to finish his sentence as the ooze monster wrapped itself around his head and went to work.

the landry room had had it's own grid and so the lights were on, meaning that Matt could watch as parts of the ..the THING reached into his cousins forehead.

shutting his eyes and wetting his diaper Matt rocked back and forth, hearing more farting and the sound of David messing himself and then falling to the bed he'd made.

opening his eyes and thumb in his mouth, and drool trailing down his chin Matt saw the slime monster in front of him, but it seemed ..uncertain.

figuring sucking up was the way to go, Matt tried his 'I'm so cute you can't be mad' smiles and tried to talk, but he was so scared the words came out in a babble much like David's now were.

It seemed satisfied with his efforts however and oozed away, going back down the pipe and leaving Matt alone with his now brainless cousin.

"it..it must of thought it already got me!" Matt said..then let out a nervous laugh.

he was gonna make it out of this, he'd go and get the FUCK out of hear, screw everyone outside watching, and just go and get the cops, the army, the 82nd airborne and have them kill whatever the hell that thing was.

He did toy with trying to get David out with him, but he was clearly a lost cause and likewise the other boys had either already been attacked or it was going after them and that meant he had cover.

was it selfish? Yeah, but he wasn't about to be monster food!

getting to his feet best he could, he took off running as fast as his little legs and filled diapers would let him, going for the exit.

With all five of the boys drained, the creature was content to go to sleep and let them be found in the morning, or it would of been had it not detected the sounds of running

none of the prey should be able to run in their current states and all at once it realized that it had been tricked.

fury filled it and it raced to cut the last of the prey off, erupting from a vent in the entrance hallway and wrapping itself around the last prey's head, taking more from him then it had the others. they would at least be able to rebuild their minds in 10, 20 years but this one! this one had tried to trick it and would be a mindless pants shitter for the rest of his life.

Sliding away back to it's resting place, the creature was pleased with itself.

By the time the boys were found in the morning, no one could really figure out exactly just WHAT had happened. the diaper tradition was of course know to most locals, but no one had ever been found like THIS before.

Doctors ran tests and in the end the best thing anyone could figure out, was all five boys had been scared so badly their minds had just shut down.

No charges were pressed since the boys had willingly gone into the house but after that the tradition had been put to a end, and the door's to the mansion had been nailed shut to keep kids out.

Of course the creature wasn't bothered by the shut doors, it had other ways of getting out and whenever it got hungry enough, it was willing to travel to feed, it's preferred course now being diaper boys.

So take this as a warning to all of you goo goo gaga baby butts, be careful what you wear when you go to sleep..and Sweet dreams~

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miioouu · 4 years

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Demon! Bakugou x Human Reader? 👀

Wooooo I left this for 666 followers because, well I want to! Sorry if you didn't want smut, you can send me another request when I open my requests! Thank you for requesting! ❤️💜❤️ And thank you so so much for 666 followers you guys🥺🥺

Warning: smut, oral sex, fingering, anal, somnophilia.... Also very long post sry 😔

People looked at you like you were crazy. Who in their right mind would buy such house? Old and dark, window screaming in breezy nights, wood cracking for no reason. People claimed it to be haunted, advising you to run away, never step a foot inside the house. But who were they to tell you what to do? You didn't see an unholy house in front of you, nor a roof for demons or ghosts or whatever mythical creature they believed in. No you saw a beautiful house, one that has potential to turn into the best looking home in the neighborhood. And at the price it was offered, you hit the jackpot. Big and dark, you're soon to transform it.

Turning the key as you stepped in, dust filling your lungs, coughing and shaking your hand to get rid of it. You had a lot to work on, and first you had to get it all cleaned up before starting any renovation. Everywhere you looked there were pictures reminding you of old witchcraft. Devil horns, crosses, and crystals. But what stood up was a particular painting, young, and powerful, eyes seeming to follow your every movement, and if you looked straight into them, your chest starts to heave, breathing becomes hard, sweat running down your face as your hands shake while you're taking the frames of the walls. You didn't need a dead man to decorate your house.

Days passed and you're still cleaning up that damned house. Nights spent there seemed colder, making you shiver even under the layers upon layers of covers. Crickets seem louder here and the air seems to flow with more force. Though you blamed it on the poorly insulated walls. Unaware of the form roaming around your house. Well more like his house. Angry eyes boring into your soul as you tried to move his favorite coffee table, glacy fingers trying to stop you from throwing away expensive furniture. You were getting on every single one of his nerves. How dare you come to his house, acting like it's your own, destroying fortune poured into the decoration? Who's that insane woman trying to own his property?

He was having more than enough with you, his only wish to dig his nails into your skin, drawing blood out of you. His only wish to see the life drained out of you, begging him to stop. And his desire only getting worse when it looks like you weren't getting his warnings. How could you ignore such things? Breaking of your new lamp, moving candles and cold, freezing air hitting your skin leaving trails of goosebumps in its awakening. How could you be so dense?

You had toured the whole house, happy and joyful. Sure some things were a bit weird, but that's just your mind playing tricks on you, right? Well you were as sure as you moved to the basement. What you expected was dead rats, cockroaches, spider webs, anything really, but this. Left over wax sealed on the walls and floors, books covering up the whole wood floor , upside-down crosses hanging from the walls and most importantly, a huge pentagram burned into the floor. Perfect circle, and pointy ends of the star. The sight alone making you shiver as cold sweat ran down your body. Breathing heavy as you walked in the room. Each step felt heavy. Each step having you feel colder. Each step having your conscious screaming at you, begging for you to turn back, run away from the house, making your legs feel weak and wobbly as you get closer and closer to the cursed symbole.

Finally, you had discovered him, maybe that would make you leave, maybe you'll finally understand. You don't belong here Y/n. Smirk carved on his face as he watched you approaching the portal to the underworld. The portal to wherever he came from. You should be running away, you should be screaming, repeating prayers after prayers, asking God for help and forgiveness for every sin you had committed in the past. But you didn't, which made his blood boil in anger. No, instead you laughed, shaking your head. Determined to get the place cleaned you did the one thing that kept him away from you, you touched the pentagram. Thus allowing him to finally do what he was so itching to do before, he can finally touch you.

He wanted to kill you, sure, but why not have some fun with you before? Giving up on the idea of making the basement crystal clear, for the circle never faded away and the books all too precious to throw in the bin, you locked up the basement and continued with your life upstairs. You wanted to go back to a normal, routine-like life, but there's something stopping you from that. It's like icy fingers seemed to run up and down your legs every night, hot breath fanning over your face as you tried to shut your eyes close and fall into slumber. It's like eyes followed your every move, burning and looking straight into your soul. And the worse is the hazzy, dizzy feeling you get every time you hoppinto the shower, the smell of burnt caramel, filling your nose, making you ache from the inside as heat flows through your body and straight to your core. Making your eyes roll back as waves of pleasure cam crashing upon you. What was happening? You had absolutely no idea. Though you didn't give up on your dream house, never!

But everything became too much one night. Sleeping tight in your bed, falling into the land of imagination, it's been a while since you had an erotic dream. Red eyes staring back at you, perfectly sharp jawline filling your view, though what was special in this dream was the devil-like horns decorating your dreamy man's head. Standing tall and shiny, dark red contrasting excellently against his sandg blond hair. Skin pale and smooth, patches of red, burnt-like skin patching over his body. Though all these details meant nothing to you. No, it was the cold finger brushing against your legs, parting them as you're fully exposed to his fiery eyes. What a weird dream, right? Oh Y/n, only if you knew.

It's been a while since he had the ability to play with a human body, let alone one so beautiful. One so perfect, aching and arching for him. Seeing you sleeping, with nothing but an oversized shirt, has his mind going wild. He was but a mere demon, he can't contain himself, not when his desire to just wreck you over and over again kept flowing in his blood. Dragging his pointy fingers up and down your legs, making you shiver as he got closer to your heat. Face leaning in hot breath fanning on your lace covered crotch. Taking a look at your face, mouth agape, brows furrowed in pleasure, he knew he had this effect on mortals, but you, you were special.

It's just a dream Y/n! A dream seeming so realistic, it's like someone, or more like him, was really breathing in your scent, face buried between your legs, tongue licking and sucking your soaked panties. It felt so real. All you wanted to do was run your fingers through his hair, and push closer, beg him to just rip your underwear apart and fuck you. It was so real, so good, how can a dream feel like that.

Oh dear Y/n, it's not a dream, no, there really was a man, well no, a demon devouring you, playing tricks on your mind making you think that it's only a hyper realistic dream. "Oh- oh God....." Shaky moan coming out of you, as you pushed your hips forward, begging the demon to just take you already. He was having a lot of fun, roaming in your dreams, making you scream, got him going crazy. Finally listening to your needs, he moved away, earning him a whine as you hand subconsciously traveled down your body, aiming for your lower lips. He was fast though, pulling your panties down and throwing them somewhere in the room, finally giving in and pressing his lips to your skin, sharp teeth nibbling at your inner thighs, covering them in marks. And slowly making his way up, getting so close to the place you need him the most. Trembling as his wet muscle was finally dragging in between your lips, licking and sucking, tongue languidly circling your clit as his eyes looked up, eyebrows knit in pleasure, mouth agape. Slipping down to delve between your slick folds, his hot muscle pressing against your walls, while his nose ever so often brushes against your clit, hot breath fanning over it.

What a dream you were having. Vermillion eyes looking up to you, sharp jawline in your sight, though that meant nothing to you, no what you were drooling over was his horns, rigid and hard, texture making you feel hot, wanting to run your tongue up and down, wrap your hands around them, and pulling him close. And so you did that in real life, hand unconsciously found his horn, gigantic as you held onto it, twisting your hand around it, making the demon growl, sending vibrations right to your core, seeing your back arch off the bed.

Wanting to feel you more, he has ripped your night shirt, with such force it had your breast bouncing. Hand quickly shooting up to have a hold on them. Burning fingers tugging and pulling your nipples away from you, letting go to see your soft skin jiggle. Oh he was having so much fun. Feeling you wriggle underneath him, sign that you were getting close, he started sucking harder, face waving left and right, pushing himself so incredibly close to you. He had to hold your hips to stop you from bucking away from his touch, and just as you were about to cum, he pulled away. Leaving you panting and shaking, whine leaving your lips.

He could fuck you right now, sure. But he wanted to teach you a lesson. Maybe he'll tease you a bit more. Gently turning you, so you're laying on your tummy, grabbing your hips and hoisting your ass in the air. Soft skin, smooth waiting to be spanked. Large palm coming harshly on it, watching it jiggle and starting to redden. Though he wanted more, spitting in your asshole, fingers dipping into your cunt to gather your juice with them, diving his digit inside your tight hole. Feeling your walls flutter around the single finger, head burying deeper into the pillows. Adding another one, stretching you so good as your fingers keep sucking him in, pumping inside of you, earning whine after whine, beg after beg, but that's not what he wanted to hear, no he wanted his name.

Pulling away again before you can drown yourself in pleasure. He saw your body fall, hitting the mattress as he gave himself a few pumps, watching your holes clenching around nothing. Finally having enough with the teasing, he pushed himself in, loving the way your hips immediately began to thrust back at him, thanking his demon powers for not making him cum at the spot. Taking a fist full of your hair, and pulling back, creating the perfect curve of your body. Leaning down, long tongue swiping against your ear shell, for the first time you hear his voice. Deep, and husky, filled with evilness and desire. "If you want me to keep going human, you have to beg for me." Even in your sleeping state, your body responded perfectly to him. Having no idea where that name came from, mind creating it on its own. "Please, please Bakugou, fuck me, break me. I want to feel you so deep inside of me... Oh Bakugou, I'm only at your mercy!" It's all it took him to finally let loose. Pulling away almost completly, only to dig in even deeper, setting a rough, fast pace. Seeing your body rock with every movement of his hips, voice getting increasingly louder, wanton moans filling the room, and probably the whole neighborhood.

And you still think it's a dream? How could you? But all of it felt so magical, so good, too good to be true. Walls clenching around him, hips fast to meet his, as your hands began to tear the soft sheets underneath you. Pulling back at your hair, so you back was pressed on his chest. This new position making him hit the perfect spot inside you, over and over. At this point all that came out of your mouth was his name, repeating it like a prayer. Giving you another few thrusts, setting your body in fire as you finally, for the first time tonight, released, clamping hard around him as his name came out in shaky breaths. Groaning low as he feels you around him, the fluttering of you cunt making his eyes roll back as he presses deep inside you, hot ropes of cum fill you up, painting you walls white.

Pulling out with a hiss, letting your body hit the mattress as he sees his cum dripping out of you, body still shaking from the intense orgasm you had.... If he gets to fuck you like that every night, he really doesn't mind if you keep moving his furniture.

Waking up in the morning, body aching and feeling hot, you looked at yourself, naked and sticky, warm liquid spilling out of you and into the mattress, sheets torn apart and clothes littering the floor. Though what shook you the most was the pentagram burned on your inner thighs, making your whole body shiver, head dizzy as you touch it.... Oh y/n, maybe you should listen to people more often for you are now in big trouble…

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missnxthingg · 5 years

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Peter's 18th Birthday - The Letter

"Peter, wake up." May said softly waking her nephew up very early "Happy birthday love."

"Thank you aunt May" they both hugged for a while, and Peter looked at the clock on his desk "Whoa, 7 AM?"

"I'm sorry for waking you up too early but Pepper said to be at the lake house a bit before lunch. So get dressed and come eat breakfast, after that we're taking off"

He got out of bed and took a quick shower and did his morning routine. He got himself a jeans, white tshirt and a denim jacket, plus some really nice new sneakers his aunt gave him the other day. When he got to the kitchen, May had prepared a really nice breakfast for him, and was now doing some dishes. He smiled, thinking how lucky he is for having her in his life. Peter hugged her from behind, and she got really surprised.

"Peter, what is it about?"

"I love you, thank you for everything." They remained silent for a while, till she turned to him and smiled.

"I love you my boy, and you make me the proudest and the most scared aunt in whole universe." She gave him a forehead kiss and a ass smack "Now please eat your food cause we gotta go"

Peter ate his breakfast very quickily and they both were soon on the road, driving to the Stark's Lake House. It was Peter's 18th Birthday, and Pepper Potts-Stark wanted to throw him a party, saying that was what Tony would have wanted. Everyone was going to be there, some heroes and other people he had met after becoming Spider Man, some friends and the family he created for him along the years. So there they were, driving on the road, listening to May's favourite bands and singing along to every song playing. It took a while, but they got to the house and May parked her car right next to the Black Audi that they both knew that was Pepper's car. After they both out of the car, they could see the front door opening very fast and a little girl with a yellow dress and braided hair running towards Peter, and hugging him on the legs.

"Peter!" She said with a big smile on her face

"Hey Morgan!" He said getting her up on his arms.

"Happy birthday!" She gave him a cheek kiss and his smile went bigger than it already was.

"Thank you! You're soooo grown up, what have you been eating?"

"Burgers. Lots of them. Hey, will you play with me today?"

"As long as you want me to."

"Yey!" Morgan screamed with an excitement tone.

"Mo, leave Peter alone, it's his birthday" Peter got Morgan on the floor and looked at the blond woman in front of them

"It's okay Mrs Stark." He said

"I told you already to call me Pepper." She said with a big smile on her face

"I don't think that's going to happen, Mrs Stark" They approached each other and gave a big hug that lasted for almost two minutes.

"Happy Birthday Pete."

"Thank you, Pepper" he said emphasizing her name.

"Oh, hello May. How are you?"

"Hello Pepper, I'm fine, and you?"

"Everything's well. Please, let's go inside!"

The house was very pretty and clean. Pepper must have organized it before they got there. Even Morgan's toys were organized in a corner, and Peter could see her playing at the swing outside.

"Is anybody here yet?"

"Happy and Rhodey. And I think they are in the basement getting some beer. It will probabily take a while for people to get here. But I wanted you to get here early because there's something for you that I kept for so many years till this very moment."

"What is it?" Peter asked curiously.

"May, if you excuse us, I'll get Peter to Tony's office for some privacy" Pepper said holding Peter's hand.

"No problem, I'll play with little Morgan for a bit."

Pepper led him to Tony's office at the back of the house. Peter's heart was pounding, and he was feeling something strange, but he wasn't able to describe it. So when they got there, there was a letter on the table. Peter sat on his chair and Pepper standed next to the table.

"He wanted to give this to you on your 18th birthday, but since he's not here, I thought it was my job to give it to you."

Peter opened it and saw Tony's handwrite. "It's a letter?"

"It's a birthday letter. I'll give you some privacy, if you need me, I'll be in the kitchen."

Pepper left and Peter chilled on the chair and started to read the long letter.

"Hello kid,

It was supposed to be your 18th birthday today, but I guess you're not around anymore. I would have planned a lot for you today. A big barbecue, with all of your friends and family, anyone you would have wanted. You want Barack Obama on your birthday party? Done. You want the hottest girl in your school in your party, falling head over heels for you? I would have done that. See Peter, I would have done anything you wanted. If you wanted anything in the world, I would have given it to you.

I see much of myself in you, the smartness specially. But I also see a lonely boy, that never had much of a father figure. Both your dad and your uncle were gone too soon. May is amazing, but you never had that person for you to take an example of as a male figure. For some time I wanted to be that person. But after a time, I realized I wasn't good enough to make you stick around for that. I failed Parker. I failed you.

There's not one single day that I don't relive that scene in my head, your words, begging me not to die. I didn't know what to do, but try to make you as confident and comfortable as I could. That didn't work. That guilt consumed me in every single way it could. It's been 3 years since that day. 3 fucking years that I've been thinking and working my ass off to get you back.

Pepper made a cake today. She wanted to. It's chocolate, your favorite. It looked very delicious, but I didn't get to eat it that much. A little girl devoured it but I'll get to her. I visited your aunt May today, and she looks as bad as I do, maybe even worse. It's a very difficult day, for both of us, for everyone who knew you and sticked around in the world and you weren't there anymore. She made pancakes, and they were already cold when I got there, just like her coffee. She seemed very distracted today, and she wasn't much herself at that moment. As May said, she lost her boy, and everyday gets harder and harder for her to stick around to this big bad world. You could feel how lonely she is, and I wanted her to feel better, and she's staying at our house for the weekend. I was just having a talk with her, and she said even though it was hurting so much, she was very proud of her boy, deffending the universe till the very end. You used to worry her very much kid, but she loved you very much. And I have to agree with her. I never got the opportunity to say it to you in person, but I'm very proud of you Peter. I saw your potential as a hero, but I didn't realized you were going to be something else.

You're not only May's boy, you're mine too. You're my son, the one I always wanted to have, but never got the opportunity to have. You are the most amazing kid I've ever met, with the potential of millions of men. I wouldn't trade you for anything in the entire universe. You're my universe. And I am so sorry that I didn't got to say it to you personaly, but I love you Parker.

In those 3 years, I had Morgan. You would have loved her. She has her mother sweetness, and my inteligence. But something about her reminds me of you, maybe how kind and funny she is, just like you. And she would have loved you too. When I tell her stories about my friends, she always wants to listen to more Spider Mans stories. You're her favourite superhero.

If you come back one day, please be good. Be her big brother. Be happy with everyone that's close to you. Love May, love that weird girl you're always talking about and that other guy that you insisted me to give him a job, and please love life. It is the most precious thing. Love life and be good. Please, come back and finally turn 18. I need to know that you had a normal and happy life. Get wasted, get laid, do anything you want.

I love you, and we'll be a family when you get back and that big purple shithead is done and everything's over and fine.

Love,

Tony Stark"

Peter was crying a lot by the end of it. Tony didn't even got the chance to say that in person. He was gone for a long time now and Peter missed him so much. He was his dad figure, and will ever be, no matter where he was. He folded the letter and kept it in his pocket.

"Pete?" Little Morgan asked from the door and Peter rubbed his cheek to dry the tears that were falling.

"Hey Mo."

"Do you need a hug?" She asked very softly

"That would be great." She approached him and have him a big hug, where Peter started to cry even more. "I love you little girl."

"I love you Peter" She said and he made her sit on his lap

"Do you see me as your brother Morgan?"

"Of course! You're my big brother. Daddy used to say that all the time, and mommy still says it."

"But you realize that they are not my parents, right?"

"That doesn't mean you're not my real brother. It's real if you want to."

"So little and so much to teach me. Thank you for making me feel better."

"How old are you Pete?" She asked with a smile on her face.

"I'm 18 now"

"Still not too old to play catch. It's with you!" She said running out of the office and making Peter laugh

"I'm coming!" He screamed and looked at a picture of Tony with Morgan on the desk "Thank you Mr. Stark"

"Peter!" Morgan screamed from outside and he came to catch here with one of his webs. "That's not fair! No spider things!"

"Sorry, but it's with you." He started to run away from her.

Tony was gone, but the left the very best behind. Morgan was the most amazing girl in the world and he was very happy to have her, as much as he was happy for having everyone by his side. That day was special, since everyone he loves was there by his side. For a while he didn't have a big family, it was just him and May. But that was the biggest gift Tony could have given Peter that day. A beautiful loving and caring family. And he wouldn't trade it for the world.

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intothestarkerverse · 5 years

Text

Time of Our Lives (Part Three)

Based on a prompt from @geekymarvel

Peter is tasked with an important mission that requires him to go back in time. Finding himself at a gala for Stark industries in the 1990’s, he comes face to face with a young and incorrigible Tony Stark who considers Peter’s attempts to deny his advances a challenge. Now, dogged by a horny young CEO who won’t take no for an answer, Peter’s task has become much more difficult….

(STORY CONTAINS ENDGAME SPOILERS)

Read on AO3

“Get on your radio. I want S.H.I.E.L.D. I want the F.B.I. I want the N.S.A. I want everyone with a god damn badge and an acronym for a name here in ten minutes.” When there was no immediate response from Happy, Tony turned to take in the other man’s embarrassed expression, barely losing a step of his meaningful stride. “Tell me you have your radio.”

“I left it in the security office.”

“Of course you did.” Tony skidded to a stop in front of the elevator, reaching for his security badge for executive override and realizing with an angry growl that he didn’t have it. The kid did. “Fine, go back to the security office and call in the cavalry then.”

“I can’t let you go down there alone, Sir, it could be dangerous.”

“See, I thought I was the boss here. My name and not yours on the building, the paychecks…Happy Industries sounds like a brothel or a pizza parlor with an animatronic rat, you know? Is this a whore house or a pizza arcade, Happy? No. Then just do what I say or hit the unemployment line in the morning, I honestly don’t care which you choose.” He turned his back to thesecurity guard and began mashing the down arrow on the elevator again and again and again as if that would make it arrive faster. When it still hadn’t arrived after several seconds, he begrudgingly pushed his way through the door to the emergency stairwell somewhat placated that Happy was not behind him and had done as instructed and gone back to get the authorities. Tony honestly wasn’t worried about the kid hurting him. If Peter Parker wanted him dead, he would have killed him when they were alone in the Men’s Room. Nah, this kid was out for something other than blood...it was just a real damn shame it wasn’t sex.

By the time he reached the incinerator in the basement Tony was a little breathless. The door providing access to the inside of the incinerator for removal of ash and debris was open and there was the sound of movement echoing from within the large metal room. “All right, Kid, you’ve got at best fifteen minutes before this building is swarming with federal agents. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll run…” Tony’s words died on his lips as he stepped into the open doorway and several things became apparent at once.

That was not the kid in the incinerator.

It was, in fact, three individuals dressed in black who were collecting a myriad of items from the incinerator that Tony hadn’t recalled ordering destroyed. Two of them did not even look up from their work, but the third individual swung his considerably impressive firearm in Tony’s direction and let off several rounds of gunfire before Tony’s words had even stopped echoing in the room.

—

There were very few times in Peter Parker’s life when his proclivity for mathematics and the physical sciences was a hindrance. This was one of those few times. As he slowly climbed down the never-ending shaft of the incinerator on finger tips and toes, his brain was busy calculating the height of the shaft, how much time it would take him to fall down it, how much damage he would sustain from the fall, and any number of worse doomsday scenarios.

Truth was, he knew he had nothing to worry about. He had pretty good stamina and his muscles weren’t even beginning to sting yet. In the grand scheme of things, this should be a piece of cake…but Peter had a little bit of trouble with very confined spaces ever since Vulture dropped a building on him. It wasn’t a full-fledged phobia. He certainly tried to avoid very tight places if he could help it, though, and this incinerator shaft was about as tight as they came. If he was any larger, he probably wouldn’t have been able to fit inside it. As it was, there was little more than a couple of inches to either side of his shoulders and his knees and ass were scraping the other sides as he crawled down. It was also exceptionally dark and quiet. All he could hear was the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat and the sound of his somewhat frenzied breathing against the mask of his ironspider suit. He really missed Karen. Being without the AI didn’t make the suit useless, it was still every bit as intuitive as it had ever been…but Karen was a point of comfort that he could have used as he convinced himself that the tiny incinerator shaft was no big deal at all.

Spidey sense came first, as it was always want to do. The familiar tingling at the base of his skull that flared quickly enough to a full fledged stabbing pain. Peter had learned over the years to take his Spidey sense with a grain of salt. Sometimes it had a habit of alerting him to dangers that were rather mundane and not at all life threatening. His reaction to the warning was more dependent upon the circumstances. In a fight, he was much more likely to duck, expecting an oncoming projectile, than he was in the middle of Calculus. Sometimes, for the sake of secret identities, it was important to let the spitball Flash had lobbed at his head hit him between the eyes. Didn’t mean he had to like it, though.

This time, Peter paid attention to his biological warning system, slowing down and taking the last few yards of decent much more carefully than the first hundred or so. He didn’t jump out of the shaft as he might have done without the warning, instead angling himself to cling to the roof of the incinerator as he poured his body out of the hole and was finally able to take stock of the situation.

Three men.

All in black. They were loading a reinforced metal crate with objects from the incinerator. One of which, he saw with dismay, was the one he had been sent to recover. This complicated matters much more than he cared to admit. Were these people supposed to steal this stuff? Could he afford to stop them completely and take the machine, or should he just try to get the machine away from them and try to avoid affecting the time stream even more than he already had? Why hadn’t Tony or the stones known about this in the first place? What was he going to do?

It was Tony’s voice that pulled him out of the worried maelstrom of his own thoughts.

Oh no.

Oh God.

Peter saw the one with the gun turn towards the doorway and his head exploded with a thousand warnings.

He absolutely could not let Tony Stark die.

The world seemed to slow down, seconds taking minutes as they passed. Spider-Man aimed for the barrel of the gun, firing a quick burst of webbing and using all of his strength to pull the gun up so that as it fired, the rounds skittered above Tony’s head and out into the basement where he hoped they would do no harm.

He left the ceiling in a graceful leap, hands colliding with the shooter’s shoulders as he pushed him to the ground and delivered a forceful right hook to the man’s masked face. Peter was used to pulling his punches. He was far too strong to hit an average person with the full brunt of his power. Not if he didn’t want to knock someone’s head off, anyway. This time, perhaps, he didn’t hold back quite enough. The guy wasn’t dead. He’d never forgive himself if he killed an actual person, but he was adequately stunned…maybe even concussed.

One down.

Two to go.

—

Tony Stark’s life did not flash before his eyes. He was more than a little grateful for that, because truthfully he had done very little worth reliving at that juncture. His only thought, in fact, as he watched the sparks fly from the end of the gun as the bullets fired, was that he was going to die without ever taking that sweet piece of thieving ass to bed. And that was a shame.

Then the bullets were whizzing overhead and he was enraptured, watching that sweet piece of thieving ass saving his damn life. If he had thought the kid was attractive before, he was gone for the boy now. Watching him fight was the best possible kind of foreplay and Tony could even forgive his little stunt in the bathroom in favor of what he was seeing now.

Peter Parker was an artist. There was a grace and a fluidity to his movements that reminded Tony of a dancer or a gymnast as he sprang and flipped and flew around the incinerator. He was flexible. Oh, was he flexible. Watching the way his body could twist and bend had Tony lost in all kinds of lascivious thoughts, imagining all of the new, exciting sexual adventures he could have with a beautiful boy who could move like that.

He was also a smart ass. Every punch and kick, every time he fired that fluid from his wrists and jerked one of the men across the room, it was always accompanied by some sarcastic remark or witty banter that had Tony smiling despite himself. Dammit. He had been determined to be angry at the kid, angry enough to deny him sex and see him carted off to a S.H.I.E.L.D. prison, but he could already feel that resolve crumbling. Beautiful boys with bodies as skilled at movement as his and a tongue as sharp were so hard to come by. No, so very, very hard to find and so very, very easy to cum by.

As Peter sent one of the men flying into the other and both crumpled into piles of shredded and discarded paperwork, he came to light directly in front of Tony. “Mr. Stark, could you…I don’t know, maybe not stand there in the open like a sitting duck? I really can’t be responsible for you dying again and I can’t stop these guys and protect you too…”

Again? “Protect me?” Tony was offended to the depths of his soul. “I do not need to be protected, Peter.”

The eyes of the suit widened somewhat, obviously surprised to hear Tony use his real name. Then, with a sigh, the mask over his head melted away and he addressed Tony face to face. “You do actually. You really do. And you can’t die, so…I’m really, really sorry about this…”

Before Tony knew what was happening, the kid had fired two quick shots of webbing, binding first his ankles and then his arms to his sides. With a somewhat gentle kick, he tipped the man over and sent him rolling away from the entrance.

—

Peter really shouldn’t have been surprised that Tony had known who he was. Tony always knew who he was, it seemed. In the future, in the past. He was just never going to be able to maintain a secret identity with Tony Stark. The man was destined to always know Peter’s deepest and darkest secrets…except for the one he’d kept closely guarded for far too long. That secret he had never intended to allow to see the light of day, but one devilishly sexy younger version of his mentor was teasing him with so many possibilities that he feared his secret desires were not secret anymore. If he only had more time…He thought he saw something, a dark look in Tony’s eyes a moment before the man fell and rolled out of the doorway. Clearly, Peter was now not the only one who’d be having fantasies about tying Tony up with webbing and doing dirty, dirty things. He felt his cheeks blush a moment before his Spidey Sense flared again and he dived before a spray of gunfire erupted behind him.

“Okay, guys, seriously…enough is enough.” Peter bounced up again, annoyed to see that the third man was not as incapacitated as he had previously thought. “I’m not letting you leave with that stuff, and in case you missed what the man said before you so rudely tried to kill him…the cops are on the way.”

“Yes, they are.”

The voice had come from behind Peter, not in front of him, and slowly the boy turned to face a new arrival. This man was not dressed in black but in an expensive tuxedo. He’d been one of the guests, then. Probably the one who’d let these guys into the incinerator in the first place. It was not the man that had Peter frozen in fear, though, but what the man was holding.

Tony was still bound, and probably would be for another hour without Peter’s solvent to dissolve the webbing. Unfortunately, this meant he was not putting up much of a fight to the man who now had a gun pressed against his head. “You’re going to let us out of here, all of us, with the contraband…or Tony Stark is going to leave here in a body bag.”

Peter held up his hands, palms splayed, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Hey, man, you don’t want to hurt him, do you? I mean, you’ve gone to this much trouble to steal his stuff…if he’s dead, how’s he goin’ to invent something new for you to steal?”

“How indeed.” The man’s gaze moved to the disguised men who were once again scrambling to fill the crate as quickly as they could. “Oh, just leave the rest. We don’t have time. We’ll have to be content with what we’ve got. Pack up the crate, we’re leaving.”

Peter watched as the men lifted the heavy crate and began carrying it out. He dropped his hands to his side as the man’s attention was on the crate for a split second, barely the blink of an eye, firing off a quick tracker that embedded in the seaming of the crate.

When the crate and the men were out of the incinerator, Peter was preparing to launch an offensive and keep that guy from putting a bullet in Tony’s brain. He needn’t have worried, though. Just as Peter was rushing forward for the attack, he felt a heavy object collide with him and send him to the ground with an indelicate grunt. Then, he heard the sound of the door slamming shut and felt his stomach sink.

Oh no.

He pushed himself up, locking gazes with Tony who had been summarily thrown into the room at him. “Oh shit.” Peter’s gaze moved from the man to the room around them as he heard machinery whirring to life. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

The incinerator was coming on.

They were going to burn the two of them alive.

Peter reached for Tony, the solvent that dissolved the webbing loosening the bonds on the other man's arms and legs.

“This whole keeping me safe thing…you’re really terrible at it, kid.”

“We don’t have time for your sarcasm.” Peter was searching the room, desperate for some way out. The chute was too small for the both of them…probably too small for Tony. His shoulders were much broader than Peter’s, an attribute that Peter had always found attractive. The chimney was likely too tall, too thin, and with too few purchases for webbing. Not to mention the fact that fire and hot air from the incinerator were going to go up that chimney faster than he could climb with a passenger. He couldn’t stop the flame, not without literally ripping the incinerator apart. That left him with only one option…

His mental calculations were interrupted by the feeling of an arm around his waist pulling him in close and then kissing him again. God, even the fire of the incinerator wasn’t going to be able compete with this heat. Peter whimpered but tried to push himself away. “If I’m going to die, I’m going to go out on my terms.” Tony’s voice rasped against his lips and Peter couldn’t help but laugh.

“Rain check. On the kissing, not the dying.” He succeeded in pushing himself away and flipped upward, watching dubiously as the fire began to spew from several pipes along the bottom of the room. Tony was backing towards the middle of the room, as far from the fire as he could get, as Peter anchored webbing a little into the shaft from which he’d entered and backed up to a far corner of the room, turning around to brace his arms, back, and legs against the ceiling.

Tony followed his gaze to the door. “You realize that’s sealed shut. It would take a hell of a lot of pressure to open it from the inside.”

“2 tons, give or take, depending on where I hit it. Already did the math. Should be easy.” Something in Tony’s eyes made Peter smirk. Had he just licked his lips like he was looking at a piece of chocolate cake…while he was looking at Peter? Oh this was bad, this was very, very bad…but all the more reason to live.

He used every ounce of strength he could muster, pushing off of the ceiling and hurtling towards the door. A moment before his feet struck it, he watched in abject horror as it swung open of it’s own accord and he had to try to slow himself down before he barreled right into young Happy Hogan. Blindly shooting a stream of webbing, it struck something overhead and he pulled himself sharply to the right, swinging in an arc and hitting the nearby broiler hard enough to leave what Peter would later swear was a vaguely human imprint. Groaning, he collapsed onto his back on the floor and watched from his new vantage point as Tony emerged from the incinerator looking none the worse for wear.

“Good job, Happy. You deserve a promotion. Personal security sound good to you? You can keep me safe, get a pay raise, show the kid how you save someone’s life the right way.” Tony crossed the basement, standing over Peter with his arms crossed over his chest. “The cops here yet, Happy?”

“Coming down any minute, Sir.”

Peter was up in a moment, ignoring the aches from his collision with the building’s heating system. “I’m begging you, Mr. Stark, please don’t tell S.H.I.E.L.D or the police what happened. They can’t know I’m here, no one else can know I’m here…or what they took or anything else. Please…Please, Mr. Stark…”

“I do love to see you beg, Beautiful, but why should I? You stole from me. You almost got me barbecued…and you’ve already done irreparable harm to the time stream, anyway.”

Peter stopped in mid sentence, his whole body completely rigid at Tony’s reprimand. Only his eyes moved as they widened considerably at the implications of the statement. “Wuh…How…What…I’m not…”

Tony stared back, his mouth twisted into a frown, brows raised. “Yeah, you did and you are. So, if you want me to keep you out of prison…you have a very small window of time in which to tell me why a future version of myself chose to send you back in time, what you needed in that incinerator, and why. Spill it, and don’t waste time on that adorable stutter.”

#starker

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urdearestmom · 6 years

Text

100 Questions

Tagged by @bob-newby-superhero thanks!!

1. What is your nickname? Sari, Sarita, Sarinha

2. How old are you? 18

3. What is your birth month? December

4. What is your zodiac sign? Sagittarius

5. What is your favourite colour? Green!

6. What’s your lucky number? 17 because it’s my birthday lmao

7. Do you have any pets? No but I really want a cat. Everyone in my family has dogs

8. Where are you from? I’m Luso-Canadian (my family is from Portugal but we live in Canada)

9. How tall are you? My driver’s license says 160 cm but the doctor told me 163. Either way, around 5’3”

10. What shoe size are you? Uhh depends on the shoe but usually 6.5-7

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? Many, but I always wear the same shit lol

12. Are you random? Sometimes, I guess

13. Last person you texted? I texted myself pictures from my mom’s phone. Last message in general was to @eljane-hoppers

14. Are you psychic in any way? Haha sometimes I think I am, but my mom is more >:^)

15. Last TV show watched? Saw an episode of Four Weddings on TLC this morning

16. Favourite movie? The Book Thief or The Greatest Showman

17. Favourite show from your childhood? iCarly!! Used to watch it religiously after school every day it was on

18. Do you want children? Yes, but definitely not right now lmao

19. Do you want a church wedding? Kind of yeah. It’ll depend on who I end up marrying but it’d probably be some kind of disgrace if I didn’t get married in a church

20. What is your religion? I am Catholic

21. Have you ever been to the hospital? Yup tons of times, whether for myself or other people

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? Nope, I am a Child of God™

23. How is life? Could be better, probably, but it’s pretty chill right now

24. Baths or showers? Showers, but I also really like baths

25. What colour socks are you wearing? Bold of you to assume I’m wearing socks at all

26. Have you ever been famous? I mean if you google my name the results are me. I was on CBC because I was in the national spelling bee in 2012

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? I feel like it’d be fun and cool for a while but then I’d get tired of it. I don’t like having people all up in my business and that seems like what life is like for big celebrities :/ But having a lot of influence would be awesome

28. What type of music do you like? Literally anything except country music (I’m not all that into rap/trap music either, but I can appreciate it from time to time) here’s a playlist of my favourite stuff it’s like seven hours long but if you go through it you’ll see it’s really all kinds :)

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? Maybe and I don’t remember? My childhood was a questionable era

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 2, both under my head

31. What position do you usually sleep in? I usually fall asleep on my side but I almost always wake up on my back so I don’t actually know how I’m sleeping

32. How big is your house? 2 stories and a basement

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? Cup of milk with something else, usually a bowl of cereal or bread/croissant with Nutella

34. Have you ever left the country? YeET I’ve been to Portugal a bunch of times, Spain once, and to France on a 5-hour layover but we didn’t leave the airport and I don’t remember it anyway ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

35. Have you ever tried archery? Does it count if it was on Wii Sports? And yeah once and I was terrible at it

36. Do you like anyone? I think so and it sucks because he’s my friend :(

37. Favourite swear word? Probably fuck, I say it a lot. But I also say shit a lot so I mean idrk

38. When do you fall asleep? Oof regularly past midnight, but the time varies

39. Do you have any scars? A giant burn mark on my leg and a very faint lil thing on my right hand from this time I accidentally did an entire flip in my driveway

40. Sexual orientation? Was previously sure I was straight but I’m kind of starting to question that?

41. Are you a good liar? I like to think that I’m a very convincing actress

42. What languages would you like to learn? Mm I already speak Portuguese (if you ever wanna learn something hmu), and I learned some French because that’s mandatory in Canada but I dropped it and I want to get back into it. So, French! I also learned some German this year and I might continue with it. Also maybe Spanish, I can already understand some

43. Top 10 songs? Umm

Love Is A Battlefield - Pat Benatar

Rock You Like A Hurricane - Scorpions

Theme From New York, New York - Frank Sinatra

True Faith - New Order

Age Of Consent - New Order

A Million Dreams - The Greatest Showman OST

Second Waltz - Dmitri Shostakovich

Power Of Love - Celine Dion

Johnny B. Goode - Chuck Berry

Halo - Beyonce

44. Do you like your country? Canada? Yeah, I love it except for the stupid ass weather. I get sick every fucking time the season changes

45. Do you have friends from the web? Yeeee!! They’re all awesome people

46. What is your personality type? INFP- there’s more info here if you want to know what that means

47. Hogwarts House? Ravenclaw ftw bitches

48. Can you curl your tongue? Yesssss

49. Pick one fictional character you can relate to? Buzzfeed told me that, based on my music taste, I am “a student of classic rock like School of Rock’s Dewey Finn” (but actually HA I KNEW THERE WAS A REASON I LOVED JACK BLACK IN THAT MOVIE)

50. Left or right handed? Righttttt

51. Are you scared of spiders? They don’t scare me as much as induce some kind of panic, but it really depends what kind of spider. Really little ones are actually kind of cute, but big spiders send me into cardiac arrest

52. Favourite food? Akjsnfskd PASTA

53. Favourite foreign food? Idk man I’m already picky af with my food. If I live in Canada does that make the Portuguese food I eat on a daily basis foreign because if so I loooooove me some fuckin barbecued chicken

54. Are you a clean or messy person? Fairly clean. If I wasn’t my mother would hurt me lol

55. If you could switch your gender for a day, what would you do? Idk probably figure out how to pee standing up, maybe make use of the ability to lie on my stomach without hurting my chest :)

56. What colour underwear? I think this is turquoise

57. How long does it take for you to get ready? Depends what I’m getting ready for. On a regular day, ten minutes tops. If I’m going out to an event it can be upwards of an hour; sometimes less, sometimes more

58. Do you have much of an ego? Idk if it’s ego so much as me being confident in myself. Anyone who has a problem with me and decides to be rude about it can suck my non-existent dick

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? I try to suck them but it never lasts for long, I almost always bite them unless I’m really concentrating on not biting

60. Do you talk to yourself? Lmfao only ALL THE TIME

61. Do you sing to yourself? Yeee

62. Are you a good singer? I don’t think I’ll blow out your eardrums but I know I’m not the best either. I’ll just say I’m not terrible

63. Biggest Fears? Heights and deep water

64. Are you a gossip? I live for drama does that make me a gossip

65. Are you a grammar nazi? Yeah if I’m talking to someone I’m very comfortable with (my cousin for example) or if I’m trying to be petty

66. Do you have long or short hair? Long! I’m growing it out so I can be really dramatic and chop it all off later (also thinking of donating it)

67. Can you name all 50 states of America? I can name almost all of them but I always forget a few. I think it’s pretty good considering I was never taught American geography

68. Favourite school subject? Instrumental music and history were my favourites

69. Extrovert or Introvert? Idk I guess extroverted introvert? Is that a thing???? I’m really awkward and panicky in social situations with people I don’t know but if I have friends around I’m just here to have the time of my life

70. Have you ever been scuba diving? No

71. What makes you nervous? Having to talk to people I don’t know (it literally makes me panic it’s horrible)

72. Are you scared of the dark? Sometimes, yeah

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? Lmao ok this depends on who the person is and if I’m in that kind of mood (but when I was a kid I used to correct my teachers)

74. Are you ticklish? Yes very

75. Have you ever started a rumour? No

76. Have you ever been out of your home country? Yes, I’ve been to Portugal a bunch of times, Spain once, and France on a layover

77. Have you ever drank underage? Chugged a cup of beer by accident when I was 6 oops

78. Have you ever done drugs? No but even if I had I don’t think I would say it here unless it was something minor like weed

79. What do you fantasize about? Travelling the world!!!!! And like, being a successful adult because right now I have no idea what the actual fuck I’m doing with my life

80. How many piercings do you have? Two, one in each ear

81. Can you roll your Rs? You gotta in Portuguese! I’m also fairly sure my French and German pronunciations are pretty much on point most of the time so I can do those types of R sounds as well

82. How fast can you type? Pretty fast on my phone and not slow on my laptop either (when you’re a writer you end up learning to type faster than you thought you would lol)

83. How fast can you run? Oof I’m not slow when I first start off but that only goes for like max 10 seconds

84. What colour is your hair? Dark brown

85. What colour are your eyes? Also dark brown

86. What are you allergic to? Bigots

87. Do you keep a journal? I have a diary I’ve had since I was like 10 but I don’t write in it very often. I also have a notebook where I write down fic ideas and outline plots

88. Are you depressed about anything? I actually think I might have seasonal depression or something but I’m not sure

89. Do you like your age? Yeah I guess being 18 is cool

90. What makes you angry? People who refuse to listen to reason

91. Do you like your own name? Yes it means princess!

92. Did you ever get a foreign object up your nose? No but I ate lead once

93. Do you want a boy or a girl for a child? No preference as long as it is alive and healthy

94. What talents do you have? Uhh I can play two instruments and will be learning a third does that count? I just remembered I can also balance a spoon on my nose

95. Sun or moon? Moon

96. How did you get your name? My mom had a friend named Sara when she was a kid and she always liked the name so here I am having been named Sara

97. Are you religious? Kind of? I don’t go to church very often but I think I believe in God (I believe that there’s something, at least). I’ve also received all the Sacraments that I can (as of right now that’s baptism, first communion, and confirmation)

98. Have you ever been to a therapist? Nope

99. Colour of your bedspread? Right now it’s just plain white

100. Colour of your room? Bright green!

Yeet I’m finished! Took forever ‘cause I kept getting interrupted but oh well

tagging: @eljane-hoppers @hannahberrie @mikeywheelerr @queer-deckovskij

#yeet #look at all this information about me #what an interesting person i am #SIKE

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khrisjavier · 7 years

Text

End of an Era: A Life Defined by Nights in Webster Hall

In truth the first time I stepped into the grand ballroom of the historic venue off eleventh and third I was taken against my will. The year was 2011 and I was only a few months into grieving over the loss of my older brother in the summer of 2010. Honestly more than half a decade later I can admit to my self-induced reclusiveness that caused a dear friend to force me out of my bedroom prison and into the nightlife I would come to respect and love, but at the time I only saw it as a half-assed attempt from him to get company since no one else would join. I can’t say if I was born to catch the club bug, or it was my state of mind (which admittedly was not at all healthy at the time) that made that first night the beginning of countless more beneath those lights, but the scene took me, and it was damn near instant.

A higher power, or genetics, whichever it may be has graciously cursed me with an almost perfect memory retention and years later on the eve of Webster’s closing I still remember standing on that line for the first time, looking at a crowd that resembled nothing I have been exposed to before (to be earnest before that summer of 2010 I was quite well versed in everything the city had to offer) I looked straight at my dear friend, thanked him, and accepted his offer of drugs before we entered. I had some modest drug experience before this (with an explicit code, no veins and no nose, I believe we all should have one when experimenting), so my main opposition before arriving and along the ride was my own state of mind. I knew that drugs take you where you don’t want to go, your unconscious forfeits to them if your environment isn’t there to remind you of your larger self. With all my unconscious and conscious feelings of grief and apathy, I thought I was sure to have a bad time. Everything drifted away in a sea of technicolor patrons, promoters and door personal that looked more extravagant than the patrons, and a building of red brick struggling to contain bass as people file in as a confused masse on a mission. How could I say no to the dive in? How could I not let myself go?

On that first Girls & Boys night the molly took me away but in truth the environment took me further, as it did on my last night completely sober on that dance floor for the final Girls & Boys event. Past the hulking security guards in black on black on black suit attire and the modest shake down into the basement Trash party, which was our backdoor so to speak to the Girls & Boys party upstairs at more than half the price, my friend and I entered a veritable den of neon hedonism and debauchery; and I fucking loved it. My friend quickly had to pull me from my amazement and remind me that this is just foreplay but I consciously gave respect then and countless times after to those Trash parties and all their glory. A more inclusive party cannot and will not be conceived, and that is without any exaggeration. Straight, gay, confused, leather, latex, or suit, you were welcome to dance, jump on a small ottoman or table and go crazy. The main act and producer of this bastion of love, Jess Marquis, has passed on, and may he rest peacefully, but that beautiful soul both inside and out, created something unmatched there in his time alive. It’s quite possible that the Trash party had more of an immediate effect on me than the grand ballroom since my total time on it was for only a little bit shy of half an hour. In fact, I didn’t even get to see the main act that night spawning an obsession to fulfill that goal in the future.

Within thirty minutes of my first time in Webster’s grand ballroom I was pulled out of the crowd by a white man with braids nearly as wide as he is tall. Now, let me admit, I was on illegal drugs, I did not have any of said drugs or any other drugs on my persons. So this whole altercation did rattle me a bit but it did not in the least keep me from returning. In front of me in the middle of the crowd were two guys obviously smoking a joint, and obviously taking their graciously lubricated fingers and placing them in and out of a baggy, but I paid no mind and concentrated on the rest of the scene in front of me. The various lights overhead illuminating the otherwise pitch black room, the speakers placed seductively adjacent the bar in the back being sat on by guys and girls alike, the strobes which when activated made everything look like a zoetrope.

Amidst all of this I finally see the duo in front of me drop their joint and just then this huge shadowy mass appears in the middle of the crowd in front of us. I see one drop a bag on the floor at his feet and I stand waiting to see what happens to the naughty partygoers who don’t know how to be discrete. The security guard bends down, picks up the roach and the baggy which conveniently were within feet of each other, motions above the heads of the crowd, and another two guards swoop in grabbing both of the duos and assertively escorting their confused faces out the crowd. Then, the braided security guard looked to me eye to eye and escorted me away from my friend a few persons over. I knew better than to fight a security guard since I was under the influence but was innocent of having anything besides a pack of Newport on me. Immediately I was questioned by the guard about how I entered with drugs and where was the rest, patted down and searched. To which I gave in willingly and tried explaining irately “I don’t even fucking know those guys”. To this day I don’t know whether that guard was just fishing for a free pack or what but he took my cigarettes and escorted me out with all the delinquents that were either too fucked up to get in or too fucked up to handle their shit when they were inside. Soon after my friend turned up outside, confused, disappointed, and sooner after we would return.

What would proceed would be nearly a year of consecutive weekends immersing myself within that brick building. Making bonds that would last for the length of a cigarette or for half a decade later. I would meet regular patrons and recount the greatness of the night before in hopes for a greater night then, years later I would see those same patrons and lament over the greater nights of yore. It is difficult to say if the lessons learned those nights (if you ever try and learn a lesson, which admittedly most never do) would enrich every life, but they have certainly turned I, and plenty of others, into a different caste of people. An addiction to an experience will cause a person to do many wondrous things they never imagined before, like saving a disposable throughout a whole night and saving it to be refilled at the tap so that you don’t have to pay five dollars for a new one every time you are thirsty, which is every ten minutes while on drugs in a room full of warm bodies. Extensively searching day in and day out for R.S.V.P. guest lists or contests to avoid paying full admission in order to save for when you have to, or for some, more drugs. Learning how to navigate the spider web of social interaction in order to gain a free cigarette because you are desperately craving it as your teeth grind (at least before you learn there is a difference between good and bad drugs). Becoming a novice at chemistry and pharmacology as you test your smidgeon of your supply on aluminum foil to make sure it is that appropriate color of black on the spectrum, and learning the appropriate combination of vitamins and minerals to keep your body from burning out through the six to eight-hour long night.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for the state of the world now more than those nights. Without experience knowing that humanity can be united under one banner, music, for a plethora of different personal reasons, but together in one purpose, losing yourself to the music, how could one have hope for humanity as it stands now? With all the issues at hand in today’s world, one would think that there was no hope for peace over a cartographer’s set regional boundaries. Though I know that beyond religion, color, even age, there can be understanding, respect, and general kindness. I know it because I have been both on the giving and receiving end. I have learned in my times in the scene that paying kindness forward is the way to live, but all that spawned from those nights in Webster Hall, simply paying forward a free cigarette to another lost soul because I have been there before.

Now the doors to Webster Hall as most of those early patrons know it will be closing and reopening under the thumb of big money. The mood was somber and nostalgic, at least for me, that last Girls & Boys, but it has been that way for a while now when thinking about the scene. Years later, a generation that felt immortal under fog and neon lights is becoming more aware of their mortality and the futility that is life at times. With age must come change and the times are changing. The ballroom still held most of its former glory but the speakers in the back were gone, they have been for over a year now. There are no more Trash parties, and the resident DJs that were here and made the regulars feel a part of a family have moved on to bigger things, or sadly moved on at a young age shattering that initial lasting bliss we all shared in the venue. Leaving myself and other close friends wondering, what is next for us, the city, the scene characterized by bass and cheap thrills?

While I ask those questions, and struggle to find a satisfactory answer I remind myself of one thing, I must not forget what I learned all those nights exploring and haunting the floors of Webster Hall. For that span of a few hours, for all its faults and defects, whether it be a rowdy crowd or the owners simply neglecting to turn more than two goddamn fans on at once leaving you an utter mess afterwards, Webster Hall was home and we all were one beautiful dysfunctional family. I still wish all the people that make a night at Webster what it is a safe passage home, the guards with all their needed stoicism to control the flock, the door personal with their much needed cynicism to combat those that try to force their way in, the barkeeps that push you aside so that they can keep the drinks flowing, the bartenders that you love (especially the tall doe eyed one that worked the basement, I hope you all the best you beautiful creature) and the ones you hate because they never seem to see you when you’re right in front with cash in hand, the sound and light production that goes without thanks or notice, and especially each act which has either blown my mind away or left me wanting to go home and do a better job entertaining myself behind the turntables, I hope they all find the greenest pastures. The lessons of kindness and selflessness, the openness to take the good with the bad and try to make something great, are all things I can thank Webster Hall for, and for that I am forever grateful and in debt.

#Webster Hall #Girls & Boys #Closing #Gentrification #Clubkid #trash #nyc #clublife

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