#I'm certainly not gonna make any money off of that believe me they would have to be way more expensive for that I'll maybe make the money | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reasonablysurmised · 11 months

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(re-posting a previous reblog response brain-vomit essay from this morning, because I actually care about what happens to this website and want to know if other agree I guess?)

To whatever second-tier Silicon Valley social media business consultant came up with the Tumblr Updates plan: 1) stay away from this website, and 2) the "new users" aren't gonna sleep with you.

Okay that was salty but in all seriousness: this reads like a plan by someone who came in with pre-set ideas about how social media is "supposed" to work, spent two weeks running numbers while absorbing little to nothing about what people actually enjoy about this website, and spat out a plan that could well be correct on "the numbers" but is off-target about everything else--in a way that WILL end up impacting "the numbers," because people will leave.

Ultimately, this reads like a plan to "optimize" not just this website, but the PEOPLE who make up the user base--the fundamental "problem" with the current user base is that we can't be optimized and despise all efforts to do so. Personally, I will walk away from this website in a heartbeat the second it starts to look like "optimization" is the new raison d'etre, and certainly if it starts to impact the functioning and content of the website and the interactions I have on it. I've quit Facebook and Twitter and breathed a sigh of relief over both; it wasn't difficult and I experienced zero regret.

If Disneyland stops being fun because they've started "streamlining the user experience" by mandating that you go on rides in a particular order that they've decided "maximizes fun" I WILL STOP BUYING TICKETS TO DISNEYLAND (metaphorically, I'm not actually a Disney adult, though godspeed to them as they partially enable DeSantis' demise).

"Oh but you don't actually pay for anything here anyway," okay, valid and fair; if the PARK starts introducing "helpers" who smile at me and usher me to a particular bench and say "this is the view we think you'll like best based on the data we collected on you without your active awareness, the dogs are cutest from here, the sunset looks best from here, by the way YOU look best to other users from here (but also in case you want to look better here is a company with a monthly subscription to receive the most flattering clothes for your body type!)"......I will fucking run so fast from that park. I will never come back. I will start reading more, I have a backlog that can last me for years, don't try me. If I miss the outdoors and every single public park is like this I will start trespassing in people's wooded backyards before I will come back. I believe that I am metaphorically in the majority for current Tumblr users with this sentiment.

Now it's possible, maybe probable, that the part they're not saying out loud is that 1) they know they'll lose a lot of current users but they believe the glut of new users they will allegedly get by taking these actions will offset that loss, and 2) they believe that the new users are the type who can make the website money, while the current users are, by their nature, an obstacle to this website making money--to be fair, maybe an obstacle to them making enough money to keep the lights on and pay staff, I don't know.

If this is the thinking, here is my plea to @staff, on the offchance they will ever read this:

let's start with the good stuff. Thanks, weirdly and horrifyingly, for publishing this. I hate it, but I'd rather know it's coming if this is the future (you know, so I can start packing).

IMO, changing the experience for logged-off users in order to introduce them to different parts of the website seems fair enough (although it would be great to ALSO use whatever onboarding experience you come up with to introduce them to the DIY functions and general ethos the site currently has and thrives on); at any rate it probably wouldn't impact most of the Tumblr loyalists who are still here, as far as I know. So if you want to salvage one part of the plan, that's probably it--so long as it doesn't actually affect the current "user experience" for logged-in users, and DOES point the new logged-out users in the right direction.

I know we don't make you any money. Sorry. You picked the "become ungovernable" website, so. Kinda foregone conclusion. Some of us do understand that websites need some basic funds to operate. I personally really liked the crabs and little silly things introduced over the past year or so, the ones that showed an actual interest in the absurd spirit of this website. I would in fact consider buying a color-of-the-sky mug.

Onto the bad stuff: I'm no second-tier Silicon Valley social media business consultant, but I DO NOT BELIEVE you will actually get the wave of new, optimizable, profitable users you think you will, and here is why: reputation (and actuality). Every conversation I have with other people where I mention tumblr they give me a funny, bless-your-heart smile and say things like "Tumblr, really? Why?" I describe to them what I like about it--they're nice about it in the sense that they can see I like it, but clearly not INTERESTED; the overall CONTENT is not really their thing, but neither is the IDEA (that they have) of tumblr, and that won't change. Tumblr is, fundamentally, the weird kid table, this is what the current user base likes about it, and also why the Cool Kids you're targeting will never actually sit here--even if you change things, the legacy is there and the Cool Kids don't want to seem desperate.

@staff If you read one part please read this part: Sometimes when trying to explain to people why I still use tumblr, I mention that it seems like the last place on the internet that ISN'T obsessively capitlizing on human interaction and identity, that ISN'T being algothrithm'd to hell and back, and that is the one thing that sometimes gets traction and interest instead of polite dismissal. Most people I talk to about tumblr will never sign up; the few potential "new users" I encounter in the wild are interested in the fact that it's the opposite of the "optimized" social media experience. Namely, the style of website that already exists and that your current plan seemingly aims to discard.

Just in case you believe the departure of current users won't ACTUALLY be that bad: it will. Of course it can depend on what changes you make EXACTLY, but overall if you re-tool tumblr to be Quirky Artsy Twitter, the current users absolutely will leave in droves. If you do it all at once you'll see a porn-ban-sized exodus; if you implement changes gradually thinking you can frog-in-boiling-water the situation, we'll still leave, albeit equally slowly. If you're watching other user bases from other imploding social media websites, running numbers that somehow show that THOSE implosions weren't too bad: we are not those users.

Dear Tumblr, we actually like it here. For now (but Watch Out). Your theoretical New Users do not (know they) like it here, do not have pre-established loyalty, and are at best an enormous gamble. How do you lose a userbase? You forget to cherish them. Something to consider.

#tumblr #tumblr updates #staff

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kidmachinate · 11 months

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Expectations

At work one week, a co-worker said upon me replying to my boss the following:

"You know one of these days he's gonna sound less forgiving or nice"

"I'm waiting for it"

I didn't take anything from this and it was all in good fun, because my latest line of work tends to ask a lot of us on any given day...but still I press on. No one wants to get fired, right? To be clear, I mostly like my current line of work but here's the issue. The joke (or maybe they do want to see me break one day) is the other side of the coin. What it looks like when you do lose your patience. When you don't is the expectation. In the middle is a potential realization. Am I just being taken for granted?

Unfortunately, I don't always succeed at this expectation. I've unleashed hell in the way my Dad would at times. It feels bad to say this knowing over time, Dad and I grew to understand one another, but fresh in my mind are times that weren't so great. Times where simply voicing logic and reason went out the window. Where proving what the energy efficient temperature for the A/C is with hard evidence, and still being told nope, you're wrong. Maybe I presented "my facts" or "fake news" so therefore I wasn't considered. Really thought real evidence would solve the problem. Proof. Something you also need in a principals office to get out of trouble, but you can't prove things done or said to you without video evidence or a recording. They were never gonna believe you because the other person is much better at explaining themselves. They lie for a living. Principal's office is home. It's a place or panic for you. If after days, weeks, or months you then react, you're still at fault? Well...yes...and I struggle with that. I don't want revenge at the core but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to dish it back when someone want to talk smack on a small level or yell at a higher one.

Trying to develop boundaries later in life is hard. You don't want to disappoint because you don't want the problems. The having to constantly defend your yourself. Just make everyone happy. If we take trauma out of it, what's simply wrong with making people happy other than to a jealous person? Putting a smile on ones face is always worth it. The problem with these expectations are they aren't realistic and they are all over our lives. You need a degree to do an entry level job. You need to be better than your parents because they realize they messed up somewhere, and you need to correct that. You need to suppress your feelings so you can dedicate yourself entirely to emotional leeches. You need to not let money control your life when literally everything revolves around it...and we as a country are closing off freedom ramps for digital currencies as we speak, while continuing to buy it up behind the scenes, to control it. How can any one person possibly meets the expectations of the world, let alone a single individual. It's impossible. So where do you go from here? There's always burn the bridge or let them down gently.

The above are certainly options. What if you care? Is there another way? Things aren't always black and white. We can't assume everyone functions on the same level. I'm blessed by a family that mostly loves me, although we rarely talk, and enough learned to keep life in order to not be homeless. My traumas on a scale, aren't much. I've suffered more trauma through failed friendships/relationships than my childhood. My lesser than traumas doesn't make them invisible. I just don't want to let them bleed into daily life. Comparing life situations sometimes misses the mark, especially if whoever you are speaking with has their own set of traumas, mental issues, or even just life kicking you in the pants. You can kiss and make up and try again and that's all dandy but patterns are what last. If it isn't the norm for someone to just attack you, maybe it is worth a second look. I've been on both sides of the fence here, but repeated attempts at apologies to repeat the same thing? That's not the ideal scenario. A scenario is which at worst you can agree to disagree, a safe space to express, and healthy measures of filling missing voids or releasing anger (probably not at whoever you are talking to) in a way that makes you productive and helps yourself. Pulls you back. Stop the top from spinning, it's okay.

Nobody likes forced plans, playing by the rules to get screwed over, being yelled at, or even just minor inconveniences. It's a huge weight to carry when expected to just push through all of it. That the expectation. You're not gonna bat 100% at this. No one will. The issue is trying to create the environment to thrive as often as possible. Finding someone to vent to if needed. Being in a growth mindset. In a world asking for so much how do you make time for you...and not just to do whatever is distracting you from life. To just sit and think and process. We all, myself included, from time to time, need to slow down. If anything should be the expectation in life, it should be that. Not the hidden ones laid down by people confronted on a daily basis for life obligations. Stability. Consistency. Can't always rush life in the face and see what happens...and I finally thing to say this at the end of the post, where the rest can seem like a dark but truthful tale.

When making these, I attempt to accomplish a few things. Letting it out is the biggest thing. Someone seeing the vulnerabilities in a post and/or inspiration to take action. A reminder that yes you can, even with the odds stacked against you. Speaking of which, whoever you are, the world isn't against you and if you think that, pretend it is against us all. What are you doing to fight against it? Need help? Gather a party who will bring you up.

The only one who should be making expectations that I hope you meet is you. In us wanting life to be as easy as possible and stress free, we can lose the plot of our own stories or place that burden on others. I suck at reaching out but I know I can and have done this to others before. I'm sorry. I've been rediscovering myself for a longer time than I'd like and need to process how to best that best version and less of a mess. Point stands however, set your own goals/expectations.

#expectations #love #progression #struggle #mental peace #mental health #find your tribe

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doppelnatur · 3 years

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I know i rarely post anything i make like for uni or whatever but! I have like 50 of these so if you want one you can dm me or whatever!

[ID: a photo of the cover of the magazine i made about Karl Heinrich Ulrichs END ID]

Karl Heinrich Ulrichs was a pioneer of queer activism, using her position as a lawyer to fight for the legal rights of all queer people in Germany with a focus on people who were perceived as men at the time and marginalized for their attraction to people of their same sex.

[ID: a photo of pages 18 and 19 of the magazine. The painting "The birth of Venus" is behind a text that's hard to read on the photo about her activism and coining of terms END ID]

She was also someone who would in today's terms probably identify as transgender and did not only limit herself to legal advocacy but tried addressing the social prejudices of her time, becoming one of the first sexologists and doing sociological research on the identities of her contemporary queer comrades who wrote to her about their experiences of identity, gender and attraction.

[ID: pages 26 and 27, the title is Novum, there's a colored picture of a post card made in promotion of the 1903 movie "Now that takes the cake" showing two black performers dancing, one is in drag. On the other side a big quote that reads: they say, the soul's gender is not tied to that of the body END]

At the end she was banished, first to Munich (a grave punishment I can only imagine;) and later to Italy for her advocacy where she bred rare butterflies and wrote fairy tales and poems about being queer and missing home.

[ID: pages 44 and 45, they show one of her stories (Sulitelma) layered over the painting of the fall of Icarus which is probably by Pieter Bruegel the Elder END]

Her ideas were sometimes surprisingly modern and sometimes of their time in ways that I personally as a non historian didn't expect. In this magazine I put the biography Magnus Hirschfeld wrote about her, a modem perspective, her own sociological works with commentary and an example of her fictional work to give a bit of an impression of who she was, the world she lived in and what she did about it. 💘

For those of you who can't see the images, the magazine is in German and flatly printed, not in braille, but i can certainly send you the plain text if you want it or make a recording of passages that interest you if that's easier for accessibility (tho recording will take me a bit).

If you speak/read German and would like a copy, I can always send the PDF for free or you can DM and I can send a copy for 8€ (no shipping costs unless I find out shipping costs more than 8€ which i don't think). I promise they're cute I put a lot of work into them.

#queer history #German #Karl Heinrich Ulrichs #trans #trans History #queer positivity #i put the price at 8€ so any shipping is included without it being expensive #I'm certainly not gonna make any money off of that believe me they would have to be way more expensive for that I'll maybe make the money #i spent back if i sell like 40 of them. probably 45 depending on shipping cost. which i won't. so. u know. this is me offering for you to #give them to you for the lowest price i can possibly set without feeling like I'm being cheap and devaluing my work #the most money i stand to gain from this is 80€ and let me tell u i spent way longer on it than 8h

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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Hey 👋

I swear I'm addicted to your writing😁 Thank you for the amazing post❤

Can I request a usually calm reader coming home to Hanni and Wil with n bruise on their cheek and/or blue knuckles from n fight. And when they question reader they find out reader defended their relationship.

Them reacting to reader with cigarette burn scars from childhood or self harm scars.

Sorry if it's specific I had a dream about the first one and I'm insecure about my scars😅 Also if it makes you uncomfy ignore me🤣

Have a wonderful day/night/afternoon💕

Hey anon, sorry it took me a hot minute to get to this. Hope you enjoy!

Gender neutral y/n comes home covered in bruises. Their lovers Hannibal and Will need to know why.

trigger warnings: blood, threats of violence, mention of firearms, stalking

You spit a mouthful of blood into the snow before you even thought about turning the doorknob. Any random passerby would look at you and think you were attempting to rob the place. You couldn't say you disagreed, though: your hood was pulled over your head and you held a tire iron in your singular non-bleeding hand.

You knew it wasn't wise to let the old-money Baltimore socialites catch you in such a compromising position, but you had to double-check your mental map of the house one more time. Hannibal would undoubtedly be cooking; hopefully so in his element that he wouldn't notice you slipping by. Will was the one you had to worry about. When it came to you, he'd become as alert as a German shepherd with protective instincts to match. Where he was in the house was anyone's guess, so you needed to be on guard.

You removed your heavy boots and opted to leave them outside. You then tossed the tire iron behind a nearby planter and slowly, quietly turned the knob. The door creaked as it opened, making you cringe. The sight of neither of your partners immediately running up on you was a bit of a relief; you hadn't been discovered quite yet.

You just needed to make it upstairs so you could barricade yourself in the master bathroom and use that oh-so-rare sliver of privacy to cover up your bruises. Then you could climb down the trellis, grab your shoes and make a proper entrance with hello kisses and whatnot.

"[F/N]?" Hannibal called out before you could even breach the threshold.

With no thought on your mind other than "fuck", you turned your head away from the direction you heard him. "Yeah, I'm home."

"I'd rush to give you a kiss, but I'm a little tied up at the moment." He said, undoubtedly grinning to himself as he trussed a chicken with sturdy cooking wire. "So you'll have to come to me."

"Oh, yeah." You called back. "Let me just get cleaned up first."

"If you insist." He said with a dramatic dip in his voice. "But hurry right back. Dinner is almost ready."

Hurdle one was cleared. Now all you had to do was clear the second, much higher hurdle.

You ascended the stairs, but forgot to skip that one consistently creaky step that always alerted the dogs. A small army of dogs came pouring into the upstairs hallway, blocked only by the baby gate Hannibal had installed as a compromise. Enthusiastic barks filled the foyer as you desperately tried to calm them down from the top step.

"Winston! Max! Harley!" You rattled off as many names as you could remember. "Hush, please!"

"[F/N]?" Will said, turning the corner.

You momentarily considered throwing yourself down the stairs. It would be easier to explain the bruises and you could still soak up that sweet, sweet throuple affection without having to tell a story that even you didn't entirely believe. Common sense, however, kept your feet firmly on the ground.

Will appeared in your line of sight. You pulled the brim of your hat down and stuffed your hands into your pockets. "I, uh- forgot how to open the gate again."

The dogs parted in Will's path and he looked at you with suspicion as he effortlessly opened the gate. "Is everything okay?"

You turned your head to the side. "I'm fine. It's just really cold outside."

"I'm sure those wet clothes aren't helping." Will cocked his head. "We can start by throwing that hoodie in the dryer-"

Before you could pull away, he pushed your hood and your hat off in one fluid motion. He knew what was going on.

"I'm no doctor, but I don’t think busted noses and black eyes are side effects of low body temperature." He said, folding his arms.

You put your hand up, unintentionally revealing the bruises on your knuckles. "You learn something new every day."

You tried to scoot past him, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back.

"[F/N]--" Will said, a blistering fury beginning to percolate in his chest. "Who did this to you?"

"I ran into a bus stop." You lied, not even trying to make it sound believable.

"That bus wouldn't have happened to be headed to Dacula, would it?"

Your silence spoke louder than any excuse you could think of.

Will sighed. "Right. I think I know what happened."

"Will, I-" you protested.

"Save it for dinner." He scolded. "I'm sure Hannibal would love to hear this."

You'd been found out it was much worse than anticipated. You felt like you were on trial, which, given the circumstances, you could have actually been on trial in a real court of law on the charge of aggravated assault. However, that didn’t make you feel any better.

Hannibal demanded an explanation and couldn't wait until dinner. He was willing to let one of his culinary masterpieces burn in the oven, knowing of course that a much rarer delicacy was in the cards once you gave him a name.

He brushed his finger over an open cut under your eye. A light click of his tongue reached your ears as he examined your face.

"Give us a name, love." Hannibal probed, holding your jaw between his fingers and following the trail of bruises down your neck. "Who did this to you?"

"It's not a big deal, really." You assured him, squirming against his grip. "I started it."

"Now that, I find hard to believe." Hannibal contested. "You're not a preemptive strikes kind of person."

"Nor would you go all the way to Dacula to throw a few punches." Will added, approaching you with an ice pack.

"Okay, so maybe I finished it." You corrected.

Hannibal smiled proudly to himself. "That's more like it."

"What exactly did you finish?" Will asked, gently placing the ice against your bruised knuckles.

You sighed. You mentioned Dacula once and they already knew the answer. They were just waiting to hear you say it.

"My ex-boyfriend, Sidney." You leaned back on your one good wrist. "He was a being a completely irredeemable shit, as usual-"

"Details, darling." Hannibal said in too singsongy of a voice than was really appropriate while wrapping your hand in gauze.

"Acting entitled, talking like I belonged to him-"

"You have no idea how little that narrows it down." Will shook his head.

You were compelled to agree, but couldn't bring yourself to admit that and the fact that you ever dated Sidney in the first place. "Right."

"That isn't out of character for him." Hannibal said.

"And certainly not enough to make you willingly drive back out to cousinfuck nowhere to beat him up." Will finished.

"I didn't go out there with the intent to beat him up!" You contested. "He said that if I could meet him for coffee he'd never speak to me again. I know it's a lot of gas money, but I really was gonna hold him to the whole 'never speaking to me again' bit."

"So what happened?" Will asked, growing impatient.

You looked at the ground, embarrassment stopping the words at the tip of your tongue.

"Somehow, he caught a whiff of our... arrangement." You tightened your hands into frustrated fists. "And he made some really shitty comments about... you."

Hannibal and Will exchanged looks. They let the silence linger, urging you to fill it.

"He went into obscene detail about how mmf threesomes are his favorite category of porn," you tried not to gag as you recalled the disgusting details. "And then said if I 'let him watch', he wouldn't tell the local baptist church that I was a whore-"

"The man is a pig." Hannibal said, matter-of-factually.

"I got up to leave." You continued. "Obviously. Then he said he knew where you lived. Announced it to the whole diner. Started to go through his list of semiautomatic weapons. So to make sure he knew I meant business-"

"You threw the first punch." Hannibal finished the thought for you.

You nodded. "Naturally."

Will smiled to the floor and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I would have loved to see that."

"As much as it pains me to say," Hannibal began, resignedly agreeing. "It's only fair that you stand up for us the way we stand up for you. From time to time."

Will brought your bruised knuckles to his lips. "Though we desperately need to teach you how to dodge. Because the next time you come home covered in scratches, someone will pay."

You took both of their hands. "I should get beat up more often."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal nbc #will graham x reader #will graham #will graham x you #hannibal x you x will #hannigram x you #poly hannigram #hannigram #hannigram x reader #anon request #anon ask

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

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All is Fair in Dice and War

***Soooo, @bagelsinatoaster I love this request. However, you didn't specify which board game and as I am a huge nerd I decided to take some creative liberties and combine this with another idea I've been meaning to write which is: MC introducing the demon bros to Dungeons and Dragons. I certainly had fun with this and I hope you like it!*** Summary: Leviathan's world is flipped upside down when MC tells him there is a game that basically allows him to be the Lord of Shadows in real life!! He demands that his brothers join him as MC introduces them all to the chaotic shit show that is Dungeons & Dragons. For once, it was a peaceful day in the House of Lamentation. Lucifer was lounging in the living room with a cursed record playing softly in the background. For once, Satan had willingly joined him and was sitting by the fireplace, thumbing through a book on the human world. Belphie had been passed out on the couch when he arrived and was still laying there with an impressive puddle of drool collecting near his mouth. Even Asmodeus and Beel had joined in, with Asmodeus gently humming to himself as he painted his nails and Beelzebub happily munching on a snack as he enjoyed the sight of his family getting along. Yes. It was perfectly quiet and peaceful, and Lucifer didn't even have any traces of his regular migraine. But of course, nothing good lasts forever. Everyone jumped as the door slammed open and a wide-eyed Leviathan dragged you into the room. The two you very closely followed by Mammon loudly complaining. "Oi! You're gonna hurt them! Cut it out, Levi!" Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, momentarily mourning the peace that he had just barely begun to enjoy, and closed his book. "Leviathan, let MC go. What are you freaking out about this time?" Lucifer regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth. Levi looked at it with the expression he only ever got when his limited edition Ruri-Chan merch arrived; his eyes were wide and glittering with excitement while his face bore a grin so large that Lucifer was surprised it didn't rip his skin. The third-born was practically vibrating as he let go of your wrist and pushed you forward. "Tell them! Tell them about the game!"

You laughed at Levi's excitement and casually rubbed your wrist. "I was just telling Leviathan about a game that we play in the human world called Dungeons and Dragons-" "You get to make a fantasy world that everyone plays in, and everyone makes characters. You can be a wizard and cast spells against a huge monster! Or a war hero fighter that has been betrayed by his brother! Or a noble knight who is looking for his lost kingdom! And the best part is that it's real!" Levi interrupted, nearly jumping in place as stars danced in his eyes. You put your hands out towards him to try and calm him a bit. "Well, not entirely real. It is played in person, but it's a role play tabletop game, meaning it mostly relies on the players' imagination. That is unless you have thousands of dollars to spend on 3D maps and figurines of your characters." Levi's eyes grew even wider, if possible, as he started shaking his hands up and down. "I CAN HAVE A FIGURINE OF A CHARACTER THAT I MADE?! GAAAAAAAAAHH!" A pillow flew across the room and hit Levi square in the face as a now awake Belphegor glared at him. "Will. You. Shut. Up?" the Avatar of Sloth hissed as a dark dangerous aura grew around him. Beel gently patted his twin's head in hopes of calming him. Leviathan pouted as he noticed no one else seemed to be getting excited about it. "C-Come on guys! This isn't even a video game! It's a thing that we can all do together and personalize it to be something that everyone will like. It'll be fun! Right MC?" You nodded as you gently tossed Belphie's pillow back over to him. "Yeah. I love D&D. I played it all the time in the human world. There's action, suspense, and even romance if you really wanted it," a couple of the brothers perked up at that. "I could put together a one-shot for you guys to try it out if you'd like? I'll help you make your characters, and we can all get together for an evening and play it sometime in a couple weeks." The room went quiet as everyone thought it over. Most of them had no interest in the game itself, but if it was organized by you... "I'm in," Beel decided with a nod. "I think it will be fun. All of us trying something new; it could be neat." Satan casually flipped a page in his book, "The creative aspect of it is definitely appealing. We'd be the masters of our own fate, and that most certainly piques my interest." Asmodeus smirked as he put the cap on his nail polish. "And you said it could be whatever we want? My, one might say that this game could help our wildest fantasies come true~" he made sure to wink at you as he giggled. Belphie, who had only just got back his pillow, scrunched up his face in disgust and launched it at Asmo. "Don't make this weird Asmo," he looked over at you and shrugged, "So long as you do all the work in putting together the character thing, sure. Why not?" Mammon looked over at you from the corner of his eye. "Ya mean to tell me, that you can make it so I'm some awesome, rich, and powerful prince?" Asmo scoffed as he pushed the pillow off his lap. "Please Mammon, even the world of make-believe has its limitations." Mammon blushed as he growled at his brother. You just chuckled and teasingly elbowed his side. "Don't listen to him, Mammon. There is a set amount of how much money you start out with depending on your class and background, but I'm sure we can find something that will make you happy." The second-born blushed even more as he grumbled quietly under his breath. Lucifer tilted his head in thought. "I suppose that if everyone else is playing, naturally I must as well," he stood and began to make his way to his office. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with MC." The next two weeks were spent planning and carefully figuring out the details of the one-shot and the characters that everyone was going to play. Levi was, of course, the first one who came to you to build his character. The two of you spent hours going through the Player's Handbook and sourcebooks to find the perfect build to recreate the Lord of Shadows. In the end, you put

together a human fighter that you gave a couple magic items to make Levi's vision really come to life. It seemed basic, but for the Lord of Shadows, it was perfect. The moment the two of you finished, Levi dove to his computer and ordered a custom-made mini that looked exactly like his character. Satan was genuinely interested in the game, especially after he learned about all the lore and rules behind the different classes and races. You had just been chilling in your room one day when the door burst open. Satan stood there with wide eyes holding a copy of Volo's Guide to Monsters. "MC, why didn't you tell me there are cat people?!" You chuckled, knowing exactly where this was going. "They're called tabaxi, but yeah, they're basically cat people. Would you like to play as one?" He scoffed and snapped the book shut. "Is that even a question? Of course, I'm playing as one." After some discussion and bouncing back and forth between classes a couple of times, Satan settled on a tabaxi druid; that way he not only looked like a cat, but he could speak to them as well. After a few days of you spending time with his brothers focusing on getting their characters ready, Mammon came to you wanting the coolest, most epic character ever. At first, it was clear that he wasn't fully invested in the process, but as he saw the customizable options and all the cool stuff that his character could have, you got his attention. You ended up designing a golden teifling rogue (you tried to tell Mammon that teifling usually wasn't yellow, but he gave you such a sad look that you couldn't say no) that was decked out with piercings and gems all over its horns and tail. He tried to act like he wasn't that excited about it, but one day during class you caught him doodling what looked like a stick figure version of the character on his sheet with a big smile on his face. Asmodeus came in shortly after Mammon finished,

insisting on having the most charming and beautiful character there was. You tapped your chin at the request. "I mean, stereotypically bards are extremely charming and...well seductive...almost too seductive. But that's only thei-" Asmo had hearts in his eyes before you could even finish. "That's what I want to be!" You sighed and made a mental note not to include any dragons in the session as you marked Asmo down to be an elven bard and helped him create his character sheet. You hadn't heard anything from Lucifer for nearly that entire first week, until one day as you were lounging in the living room, he walked in holding a stack of resource books. "Ah, MC. I've been looking for you. I wanted to inform you that I will be playing a half-elf multiclassing as a paladin and hex-blade warlock." You blinked at him as he put all the books down in front of you. "O-Oh. Would you like help putting together your character sheet?" He just grinned and began to make his way out of the room once more. "I've already done it. I must admit that this was quite a bit more interesting than I thought it would be," and with that he was gone, leaving you to try and figure out what had just happened. With only a few days left until the one-shot, you had to go find the twins and get them to make their characters. Beel apologized like crazy for you having to track him in down in order to get his character made. The poor guy was in the middle of peak Fangol season and had completely forgotten. Once the two of you sat down in the kitchen with an empty character sheet in one hand and snacks in the other, Beel gave you his full attention. He put a lot of thought in his character and wanted to make it really good since he appreciated that you were doing something that they could all do as a family. He bashfully decided to play a halfling. Not only did the little creatures share his love for food, but he thought it would be neat to try being small for once. His class was also a surprise. After carefully flipping through all of the class options, he had eventually settled on a cleric. "They're the healers, right? This way I can help the others if someone gets hurt." You gave him a huge hug then and there. Belphegore, on the other hand, was not so easy to work with. "Belphie, come on. Just flip through the book and choose something!" He groaned into his pillow and rolled onto his side to glare at you. "I told you I would play if you did all the work for me. Me flipping through a book is work. It's not happening." After an entire hour of trying to get him to cooperate, you gave up. In retaliation you made his character a goblin barbarian, just to drive in the fact of how much of a brat he was acting like.

Finally, the day came for you all to play the one-shot, and much like you expected, it was complete and utter chaos. You had tried to maintain some structure and keep everyone on track, but it was hopeless. Levi and Satan were taking the game seriously and, Diavolo bless them, were the only reason their party was making any progress. Mammon was trying to pick-pocket every non-player character that they met while Asmo distracted them by flirting. This worked great for them until Mammon got caught and would've died from the resulting injuries if it wasn't for Beel. Speaking of Beel, the poor fella was trying his best to do well in the game but kept getting confused by all the rules and different stats and modifiers. Belphegor spent most of his time, trying to explain it to his twin, but in the end, Beel accidentally ate his dice and Belphie passed out on his shoulder. And then there was Lucifer. He had been mostly quiet the entire game. Surprisingly, he let Levi and Satan take the charge in any investigations and puzzle-based interactions, but he did so with a smirk. You had a funny feeling in your stomach that he was up to something, and you were right. It was the final boss. Satan and Levi were on the edge of their seats, having worked so hard to get the party to this point. You smiled, knowing that one of the best parts of D&D was finally taking down the big bad. In this case, you had prepared a beholder for them to fight. It would be no easy task. The fight should have required them to work together in an epic battle of wits, magic and melee attacks. Only, when everyone rolled initiative, Lucifer went first. The eldest smiled as his eyes sparked menacingly. "For my bonus action, I'd like to use my hex blade's curse on it, which allows me to add my plus four proficiency bonus to all damage, and makes any rolls of nineteen or twenty critical hits. I will then use my long sword with divine smite at third level to attack him and attack him again using my extra attack," barely giving you time to process what he said, Lucifer rolled his dice twice. "And that would be a nineteen and a natural twenty, meaning they're both criticals due to the curse. That should hit, yes?" "Wha-" You could only watch as Lucifer, now with twice the amount of damage due to his critical rolls pulled out a disgusting number of dice and rolled them all. And of course, with his luck, they all rolled high. "So that's 90 points of damage plus the extra damage from the curse and the bonus from my duelist ability per attack, brings this 102 points," he smugly perched his chin on top of his hands as the table gaped at him. You gulped and looked down at the beholder's character sheet, "Y-You just took o-over half of his hit points in one round..." His grin widened at the information, "What, like it's hard?" You never got the chance to finish the game, as Satan burst into his demon form and pounced on Lucifer, the eldest laughing like a mad man, while Levi tore up his character sheet in a fit of jealous rage. Levi never asked to play with everyone again after that. ***This was just so self-indulgent and I just- I loved it. It combined two of my favourite things and I have never been happier. This was more crack than fluff, but either way, it was fun and I hope you nerds out there enjoyed it 🥰 Thanks again for the request @bagelsinatoaster!*** Taglist: @mimik248 @roseytoesy @ester-is-here

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twjournals · 3 years

Text

The Right Place

This is the third and final part of the trilogy. I can not thank you enough for the endless support. I did not expect to even turn this into a three-parter, but you asked and you shall receive. You guys are amazing!

So Wrong It's Right

What's Wrong is Right

Warning: dark!Peter Parker x reader, dub-con, all characters are of age, pregnancy, abuse, mild non-con touching, violence

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You're an old troubled friend of May's. Your life consists of being a workaholic, a party animal, and bringing home the shittest of guys for a one-hit-wonder. Just when you get your life in order, you're knocked right back into your old habits. Peter has watched you suffer long enough. He can make it all better.

Taglist: @discoverwhattheworldhastooffer

Your world was in shambles and any move you made to try and fix it only seemed to make what was left crumble. You did not speak with anyone since you had found out you were pregnant, not even May. You did not know what you could even say to her or how you could explain what was going on. You knew she would find out sooner or later, but you had planned on later. You could not even stomach the thought of telling her. It would not be easy and you knew you would probably lose her friendship in the process.

You avoided Peter as much as you could. He always messaged to check up on you, but you would never reply. You were disappointed in yourself. If you had just been the biggest person and moved on, if you had not have gotten drunk, you would not be in this situation right now.

Peter never gave up on you. He had hoped you would come around. That you would understand why your life was going in the direction it was. You needed to get away from the toxicity you surrounded with, especially Chris. You were meant for bigger and better things. You were meant to be more than a housewife. You were to be a mother, a lover, a soulmate. You deserved the world and he wanted so bad to give you it plus more.

You continued to shut him out though. You did not answer his phone calls or his text messages no matter how many times he tried. He sat outside on your fire escape many nights, listening to you crying yourself to sleep. It broke his heart to see you in this situation, but he wishes you would look on the bright side of things. Maybe it was not the greatest timing to have a baby, but it didn't mean your lives were ruined. Sometimes what we want is not always what we need. Sometimes change is required for what we need in our life and you weren't necessarily open to it.

He honestly had tried to give you your space. He stuck to the rooftop above you where you could not see him when you would finally leave the house for work. You always looked so beautiful to him, even if he knew you had been crying all night. If you would just answer his messages, he would not have to go this far.

Peter watched you many mornings on your way to work. He followed your bus all the way to the place he prayed you would never go. He kneeled on top of the building, watching as you stared sadly at the front doors of the clinic. He wished you would turn around. To save him from having to web you down before you got in the building. You were picking at your sweater. No matter the number of times you found yourself standing outside the clinic, you never could bring yourself to even reach for the door.

You were at war with yourself. Peter could tell you fought against the changes, but your heart could not bring you to stop them from happening despite how unhappy you were. It always ended with a sigh and with you proceeding to walk the rest of the way to work. Peter seemed to hold his breath until you walked away.

Work was always a drag now. You had nothing to look forward to anymore but everything in the world to worry about. You stared at your phone as it lay against the computer screen. You rubbed your face tiredly.

You knew it was time to let go of your past. You sighed deeply, taking your phone in your hands and clicking on Chris's old messages. You began typing.

Are you able to come by later?

You noticed he read your message right away. You sat your phone down, still staring at the screen when he responded back.

Of course. Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.

You told him you would message him once you got home. You were sure what time you would get off when it came to your job. You wrote a company and spent the hours necessary to do what you needed to do.

By the time your workday had finally ended, you were having mixed feelings about inviting him over. Being pregnant did not help your feelings from being all over the place. Your thumbs hovered over the keypad on your screen. You were hesitant. Even if he had said he respected whatever you decided, you knew he could not entirely mean that. You quickly typed out that you were home and hit send before you could give yourself time to think almost about it. Maybe you should have thought about it a little longer.

Peter was stuck at school for one of his night classes. He dreaded his night classes now more than ever considering your condition. He had already skipping enough classes due to worrying so much about you. He could not afford to flunk out of school now after all the time and effort he had dedicated already. As much as he wanted to keep an eye on you, he tried to give you room to breathe, to think, and process.

You pushed his bags in the living room by the door, straightening your sweater to keep it off of your stomach. You were not big to others, but to you, you worried if people can tell. You did not want to chance it and certainly not with Chris. You wanted this to go as smoothly as possible.

Your heart almost leaped from your chest at the knock on your door. You slid the chain from the lock and pulled the door open to see his face light up as soon as he saw you.

"Hey there, beautiful."

"Hi." You leaned against the door slightly as you moved out of the way for him to enter.

"I'm so glad you're giving this a second-" He stepped into the apartment, noticing bags of his belongings to the side of him and he grew quiet. "You're not giving me a second chance." He pointed out and you frowned slightly, still standing by the door.

"I think it is what's best for the both of us." Your voice was quiet and calm, but in your mind, it was the hardest thing possible for you to say.

"Is it?" His voice seemed bitter and you looked down at your feet, nodding slowly. Even without looking at him, you could still feel his eyes on you. He turned to face you fully and you hesitated to make eye contact with him.

"It is. I still want the best for you."

"Do you not believe I can change? I don't understand. What can I do to change your mind?" He pressed.

"Please don't think I haven't given this a lot of thought. It consumes my mind to no end. I just need to focus on myself right now."

"Imagine that." It was silent in the room and you glanced at him, only to find him shaking his head with a snicker. "It's not what's best for the both of us. Not for me. This is what's best for you. Can't imagine how I even thought you could be anything but selfish."

"Chris, I just want to keep this civil."

"Good for you." He pulls the door from your grasp and slamming it shut, startling you. "That's all you've ever been, hm? You're gonna have to lose that mindset if you plan on marrying me."

"I don't-"

"You will." He corrected, moving so close you could feel his breath across your face. "I put too much time into this for you to walk away from me."

You swallowed hard. The man who stared back at you was far from familiar. You tried to step around him but he only pushed you back into your place between him and the wall.

"Goddamn it, just get your stuff and go!" You raised your voice and he slapped his hand hard across your cheek. It was strong enough to make you see stars in your eyes. You yelped at the impact and held your cheek as it stung in pain.

"You watch your fucking tone." He stared down at you. He had never hit you before in the years you had been together. He never raised a hand to you, but then again, he never raised one for you either.

You could not imagine how much worse this would get. You left sick to your stomach when he grabbed your chin, tilting your head upright to look at him, stroking his fingers across your stinging cheek as his eyes flickered over your face in thought.

"Truth to be told, I think it's you who needs to change. I put up with so much from you. You had me in the beginning. Thought I was getting this wild, sex-crazed wife, oh, the fun we use to have. The drunken nights." He stiffed a laugh as he let his free hand grab the end of your sweater. "You really had me fooled, didn't you sweetheart?"

You were scared to move. Scared that one wrong move and he would hit you again, maybe worse. You closed your eyes, hoping Peter would answer your prayers. You regretted how much you ever took advantage of his kindness. How long you acted like you never noticed. You had always noticed. You felt his hand push underneath your shirt, and his gaze grazed over your stomach.

You noticed the way his hand froze against the small curve of your rounded stomach and he instantly lifted your shirt to see the problem. Your vision was blurred from your tears as he stared at your stomach with wide eyes. You could tell he was getting pissed.

"Really looks like you've been focusing on yourself." He lets your sweater fall back down over your stomach. His grip was still firm on your jaw, giving you no choice but to look at him. "You have some nerve to leave me. I could bet money it's Parker's. It is, isn't it?"

You could not bring yourself to admit it, but you did not have to.

He shoved your face from his hand, causing you to hit your head hard against the wall as he let you go. "You fucking make me sick."

You tried to keep your sobs quiet, listening to his footsteps moving away from you, listening to him jerking his bags up. "Better it's his problem and not mine." He muttered before slamming the door shut behind him.

You pulled your knees to your chest as you sat up against the wall with a sob. You didn't realize how much you needed Peter until now. You were sure he would have been successful if Peter had not have stopped. You hugged your knees as you tried to catch your breath in an attempt to calm yourself down.

After a moment, you took a deep breath as you pushed yourself to your feet. You let out a whimper quiet, feeling mild cramps in your lower stomach. You frowned as you turned the lock to the door, pressing your forehead against it as you held your stomach from the pain. It only seemed to worsen the longer you stood there. You weren't sure what was going on, but you had a feeling whatever it was, it was not good. You stood like that hoping the cramps would ease, but they never did.

It was close to the end of class when Peter's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out of his phone slightly to see who it was. He glanced up at the professor who had still proceeded with his lecture and Peter lowered his head to answer. He knew something had to be wrong if you were calling him after all this time of avoiding him.

"Y/n? Is everything okay?"

"I think something is wrong." You whimpered quietly and he raises an eyebrow slightly.

"What do you mean "wrong"? Is the baby okay?" He looked up at the teacher who was making eye contact with him now as he talked.

"I don't know." You answered honestly.

That was all it took to get Peter moving. He grabbed his books off of his desk and tossed them in his bag while he scrambled from the classroom.

"It hurts." You rubbed your lower stomach like you always did when you had cramps before. Cramps were normal, but with being pregnant, you could never be too sure what they really meant.

"I know, love. I'm so sorry. Hang tight. I'm on my way." He reassured you as he sprinted out of the building.

---

You lay back on the hospital bed, sighing as Peter ran his hand over your bump in gentle circles. For once, you let him. Your cramps had surprisingly lessened since Peter had shown up, but he did not want to take any chances. It was better to be safe than sorry. He was so worried about you and the baby.

Nurses had been in and out of the room, doing blood work, swabbing, anything necessary to get to the bottom of this. Peter was quiet as he sat on the side of the hospital bed, focused on the massage he was giving your stomach. This was the first time he had touched you since the night you found out you were pregnant.

You could not help back to smile slightly to yourself as his long gentle fingers worked over your skin. He must have sensed your stare because it was not long before his eyes glancing up to meet your stare.

He raised an eyebrow curiously. "Is this okay? I'm not making it worse, am I?"

You shook your head. "It's fine. I'm just watching."

He smiled at you while he continued his massage to your tummy. His eyes looked toward the door when a nurse came in, rolling some equipment over to the bedside.

"Miss. Y/l/n, your lab work should not be much longer. If you do not mind, I would like to do an ultrasound to check on the baby. Is that okay with you?"

You nodded and Peter took his hands back to let her work. She rolled over a chair, taking some gel and squirting some across your lower stomach. The nurse rolled the transducer over the gel and smearing it in as she applied some pleasure in search of a heartbeat. You watched her roam your stomach, biting your bottom lip. Your eyes widened slightly when the sound of the baby's beating heart filled the room. Once the nurse got a clear view, she turned the screen to show you and Peter what she was seeing.

You looked over at the monitor, your heart fluttered slightly at the first sight of your baby. That was your baby, even if it was only a little bean now. You could not stop the smile from forming on your lips. This little bean was life was growing inside of you. This brought a whole new light to your pregnancy. It was like a light had switched on. You did not know how to explain the overwhelming feeling. It felt more real after seeing him or her.

Peter was just as taken back as you. His grin never faded at the sight of your baby. It only made him 10x more eager to be a dad.

"Look at that. Already looks like me." Peter teased and you giggled, considering he or she was not much more than a heartbeat at the moment.

"I can definitely see it." You grinned as Peter rest his hand over yours, sliding his fingers between yours. He brought your hand to his lips before pressing a kiss to the back of it. You watched him kiss your hand and shivered slightly. You did not know what to think of everything at this point.

The nurse checked the baby's heartbeat before turning to the computer behind her and check your lab results with a quiet hum as she scrolled through your charts.

"Well, it seems like everything is just fine. Your baby is certainly healthy and has one of the strongest heartbeats I have ever heard." You looked over at Peter and he only grinned. You could thank Peter for that and all of his spidey senses.

"Your blood pressure was pretty high though and considering your history, your blood pressure has always been perfect. Have you been stressed out lately?" She looked back at you and you nodded slightly.

You were ashamed at how stressed you had let yourself get. "Well, I won't ask for details but if it is anything I can help you with, I would be happy to help. If not, I would stay to keep the stress to a minimum. Your baby does feel anything you feel, so some things can be too much and really take a toll on them." She explained. "Think of this as your baby reminding you to breathe."

You smiled, feeling Peter giving your hand a warm squeeze.

"If your blood pressure does continue to be high, we will see if we can do something to help." You nodded again as she made out some prints of your ultrasound and handing them to you. "If you don't have any questions, I'll let one of the other nurses know and they can keep your paperwork ready for you to go home." She took a paper towel and wiped your stomach clean before tossing it.

With that, she gathered up her equipment before rolling it out of the room with her. You pulled your sweater back down over your stomach.

"Hear that. Now do me a favor and leave all of the worrying up to me." He looked up at you as your eyes stayed glued to your ultrasound prints. His eyes flickered over your face, landing on the bruising mark on your cheek. He reached up, moving a piece of hair back of your face to get a better look. You flinched at the contact. Peter seemed taken back by your flinch.

"What happened? How'd you get that?" You kept your head down with a small frown.

"I invited Chris over to get his stuff. He thought I was taking him back. He didn't take it well." You explained and his eyes widened.

"He hit you?!" You reached Peter's hand as he started to jump up from the bed. "I'll kill him. I swear to you-"

"Peter, please. It's over with now." You assured him, tugging his hand to pull him back to the bed to sit down again. "He's not worth it."

Peter frowned, letting out a deep sigh before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. He did not want to stress you any more than you had already been. "I'm sorry he did that to you. I wish I could have been there."

"Honestly, I needed this. It made letting go of him a lot easier."

"Was that all he did?"

You grew quiet.

"Did he..."

"No, he didn't." You shook your head after he could finish his sentence. "He saw that I was pregnant and left."

Peter tried to keep his composure as his fist clenches out of your sight. He could not imagine how someone could lay a single finger on you with intentions to hurt you. He was quiet. He was trying to hold it together for your sake.

"He didn't say anything?"

You stayed quiet for a moment, rubbing your thumb across the print. "Just that he was glad it was your problem and not his." You shrugged your shoulders slightly. "Even though it's not a problem, I am glad it's you and not him. I can't imagine what it would be like to have a baby with someone that selfish."

His clenched fist loosened at your words and his eyes softened. He could not believe his ears. Were you really saying this?

His cheeks blushed a deep shade of red. "You mean that?"

You smiled at him with a nod. "I do. You're so selfless and care so much about what you can do for others. Even though I've been selfish, you still stuck by my side. I honestly couldn't ask for a better father for my baby."

His smile widened as he looked at you, resting his hand on your small bump. "Our baby."

You rested your hand on top of his with a smile, nodding your head. "Our baby." You agreed.

---

It was not long after that the nurse gave you the okay to leave. Peter had stopped to get you something to eat before he took you home. He wanted to make sure you had been fed. All of the little things like this had slowly pulled you closer Peter. You were not used to how observant and patient he was. As much as you knew how wrong your whole situation was, you could not help but to give in to it. Despite your age, Peter had treated you better than any other guy you had been with. Even better than the one you had been with for years. Peter was the blessing you never knew you needed. He was the blessing in disguise.

He held onto your hand, walking up the steps to your apartment and using the keys to unlock the door for you. He didn't expect you to let him stay. All he wanted was to make sure you were okay before he left you alone.

"Thank you for everything." You looked up at him as you both stood in front of your door.

He smiled down at you. "You don't have to thank me."

"You know I owe you."

He rolled his eyes playfully. "You don't owe me anything. You're having our baby. I consider that payment enough." He teases, his hands resting on your waist. He could not help but touch you. In every possible, he would if he could. Your cheeks blushed at his response, looking down but Peter let his finger hook underneath your chin to tilt your head back up. Your lips were barely an inch apart when the moment was quickly ruined.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" A familiar voice pulled you from your moment, making your heart sink to the pit of your stomach when the realization hit. You did not even have to look over to know it was May. Her face was red in anger when your eyes met hers. "You ignore me for weeks and when I come to check on you, you're smacking lips with my nephew?! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Your lips parted to say something, but no words came out. You did not where to begin with explaining yourself to her. You knew this was all wrong, but it was all too late.

"I thought you were hurt, but obviously, you're perfectly fine." She was fuming.

You never wanted her to find out this way. You wished you had more time to think about it and figure out a better way, but this was it. This was the moment of truth and you were terrified to lose your best friend. You felt tears forming in your eyes and Peter frowned.

"Aunt May, stop."

"Stop?! I'm not going to stop! You're not going to use my nephew so you can get over your worthless ex-boyfriend."

"Aunt May!"

You fought to hold back your tears until you could not anymore. You felt the tears running down your face. As much of a low blow that was, you felt you deserved to hear it. "Peter, i-it's okay." You struggled to form your words. You were hurt, embarrassed, ashamed.

"No, it's not." He shook his head, pointing a finger at May as she stood only a few feet distance from the two of you by her car. "You've gone too far."

"I don't understand how you think this is okay, Y/n." She shook her head, ashamed at you.

"I didn't expect for it to be like this. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." You confessed.

"Just like you never meant for all those one-night stands to happen huh? I trusted you!" She yelled, making you flinch. You hung your head in defeat, glancing at Peter with sad eyes before going inside. You could not stomach the rest of the conversation without sobbing. You tried to calm yourself once you were inside.

"That's enough!" Peter yelled suddenly. "I am capable of making my own decisions. I don't need you to decide what is best for me, Aunt May. I'm not here against my will and neither is she."

"She's supposed to be my friend." She didn't know what to make of this.

"You're supposed to be my Aunt! You knew how hard I crushed over her. For years you knew."

"I thought it was just a crush."

He moved closer to her in the parking lot. It was never just a crush. He was head over heels for you. "I love her. I've always loved her. You're can either respect it or accept it, because it's either way, she's pregnant and nothing is going to change that." He stood by her car.

Her mouth fell open in shock. She did not know what to think. Never in a million years would have thought this would happen, but then again never would have you.

"Pregnant?" Her voice was quiet.

He nodded. "I'm gonna be a dad, Aunt May." He pulled his copy of the prints out of his wallet and showing them to her.

She was at a loss for words. He was right. There was nothing she could do about that. May stared at the prints for a moment, trying to process everything in the short time it had all happened.

"Peter... I don't understand..."

"She almost had a miscarriage today because she's been stressing herself out over Chris. You're not going to take this away from me." He looks down at her, taking the prints back from her." He looked down at her as she stared back with a small frown. "Go home, Aunt May before we both do something we'll regret. You can come back when you're ready to apologize for this." He held the car door open for her and she hesitated before slowly getting in the car.

She knew she was in the wrong for how she had handled things, but Peter did not give her the chance to even risk making things worse. Peter felt deep in his heart despite everything she would come around. She would realize how happy you made him and she would accept it, but for now, she needed to leave.

Peter walked back to your front door, knocking on the door with a sigh. After a few moments, you moved from your spot on the couch to answer the door. You opened it slightly to see Peter and you glanced behind him at May's car pulling out of the parking lot.

"How are you?" He frowned when he saw your red watery eyes.

"I feel awful."

He sighed when you finally let go of the door and he stepped inside of the apartment. He let the door close behind him. His arms wrapped around your body instantly, pulling you against mine as he hugged you, resting his head against yours and kissing the top of it. "I'm so sorry. I know it's hard to believe now, but she'll come around. Just give her some time."

"She was going to find out sooner or later. I expected that reaction. I just wasn't prepared for it right now." You pointed out as your head rested against his chest, letting him hold onto you.

You closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat. You relaxed in his arms. Your eyes were burning from all the tears shed. Peter scooped your body up in his arms bridal style, carrying you down the hall to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, sliding into the bed with you as his arms naturally found their way around your waist. Your head fell to his chest as you got lost in your thoughts for a moment.

"I'm starting to think I can never make the right choices." You admitted, laughing slightly to yourself and Peter tilted your head up to look at him.

His lips pressed a kiss to your nose. "Sometimes, the wrong choices bring us to the right places." He assured you before leaning in to close the space between your lips and kissing your lips.

He was true to word. No matter how much you held yourself back, every wrong choice you had ever made in your life brought you to this moment with Peter. This opportunity with Peter to finally get your life right. It was your chance to allow yourself the happiness you knew you both deserved.

End Credits Scene

He was not sure how long he had been sitting with his wrists and ankles restrained to a chair in the middle of a dark room. Maybe hours. It even could have been days. He was not sure. His eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the light that poured into the room when he finally heard a heavy door open.

"Oh good, you're awake." He was covered in sweat from fear and the heat of the closed-off room. He could make out bits of a red and blue suit. His eyes must have been playing tricks on him. When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, his eyes widened at the sight of Spiderman in front of him. He did not understand what was going on. Spiderman is supposed to save people.

His mouth was covered with solid webbing so he could not speak.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here." Peter moved closer to him as he spoke. He leaned down, ripping the webbing from Chris' mouth and making him cry out in pain from the grip it had on his skin. "You see Chris if there's one thing I hate, it's people who hurt the people I care about."

"W-What are you talking about? I haven't done anything."

"Don't play dumb." Peter gritted his teeth underneath his mask, backhanding Chris across the face before gripping his jaw. "You know exactly what you did, but that's okay because it won't happen again. You'll never touch Y/n again. I'll make sure of that."

Blood dripped from Chris's mouth from how hard Peter hit him. "I should fucking kill you for putting your hands on her." He smirked to himself when Chris starts squirming under his grip. "But I won't."

"I won't. I won't touch her again. I swear-"

"Oh, I know you won't." Peter let go of his jaw before backing up towards the door again.

"W-Where are you going? Aren't you going to let me go?" Chris started to panic as Peter pulled his mask off for Chris to see his face. He wanted this to be the last thing he saw if he died and the thing he would definitely remember if he lived.

"I didn't say I was going to let you go. I said I wasn't going to kill you." He smiled and Chris's mouth fell open slightly at the sight of Peter Parker standing before him. "I was thinking we could make a game out of this. I hear you like games. Let's see just how important you really are. I'm gonna leave you here and we're gonna see if your friends succeed with their search party if they even send one out. I can't imagine what they would care about scum like you for, but I guess we'll see. I give you about 48 hours before your body finishes you off itself. That should give you more than enough time to think about what I've said. That's if you do make it and I don't really have faith that's gonna happen, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to get the hell out of New York. I promise to you if ever see you again, I'll kill you."

Chris swallowed hard as Peter stood in the doorway once more, the sun outlining his figure at the door. He was scared of the possibility of not being found. He was furious that a guy like Peter was capable of putting him in a situation like this.

"They'll find me and when they do, you're a dead man, Peter Parker." He pulled at the restraints on his arms with all of his might but he did not stand a chance against the webbing. Peter made it look so easy.

Peter grinned at Chris's promise. He loved the challenge. The possibility that even if someone did find him, he would have the pleasure of killing him himself. It amused Peter that Chris could even have the nerve to threaten him in the position he was in.

"Well, let the game begin." He gave a wave as he started to pull the door closed. Chris yelled to the top of his lungs until the heavy metal door ceased his screams.

#dark peter x reader #dark peter parker #peter parker #dub con #dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #dark!spiderman x reader #dark!spiderman #dark!tom holland #tom holland x reader #peter parker one shot

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walkuntilthedaylight · 3 years

Text

The people have spoken! How can I not give them what they want?

I'm gonna put this all under a cut, since it's a bit long, and also because it's highly interpretative/speculative and not everyone likes those kinds of posts as they can be rather subjective and, I suppose, invasive. I want to give two major caveats to my thoughts below: first is that I tend not to buy the idea that Paul was the "stable/normal" Beatle, mostly b/c I view marijuana dependency and workaholism as addictions and I take them pretty seriously. Second is that I really do love this kind of tabloid/gossip/personal account shit; I think it should be taken with a handful of salt, but I don't think it should be entirely dismissed out of hand either. I read this stuff like I'm piling up sheets of stained glass: I'm intrigued by the places where the colours blend and overlap, and ignore things that fall outside the prism. Anyway, let's dig in:

Okay, so what I found fascinating about 'Body Count' is that it's one of the only sources which observes Paul McCartney's mental health during the period between the India trip and when the band breakup really got rolling. I think it's overall a fairly self-absorbed text that definitely has some lies and exaggerations peppered in there to make things spicier and more dramatic, but its broad characterization - as I mentioned in my first post - isn't exactly libelous or out of left field. Some elements that make me think it's generally if not wholly authentic are: Paul's simultaneously forceful and dorky seduction style, his terrible Liverpool diet and poor housekeeping, the bouts of thrill-seeking recklessness, avoidant adventure crafting, dark moods when drinking non-socially, the occasional hot and cold bouts with the Apple Scuffs camped out at his gate, and the way in which he underplays his drug habit, which is SO "in truthfulness we spent most of the filming of Help! slightly stoned":

These details are so bizarrely specific and have significant overlap with both sympathetic and spurned personal accounts of Paul I've read in the past, so I believe Francie is just telling "Her Version Of The Truth" here rather than crafting a piece of pure fiction. The most important and revealing anecdote in the book is this one.

There's no reason not to believe this is a fairly accurate representation of something that actually happened, imo, since we know that anxious purse strings were an ongoing issue in the unusual turnover rate within the band Wings, and there are plenty of confirmed and rumoured cases alike of extended family members feeling entitled to a "piece of the pie"; this is just like, the kind of thing that happens to working class people who get catapulted into fame and fortune. And Paul in particular already had deep-seated financial anxiety for whatever reasons he'll never fully admit (as is his right, but I think his offhand claim that he "once heard some adults arguing about money and that's why" might actually be alluding to having heard some adults - y'know, like his parents - arguing over money fairly frequently). What esp interests me about the anecdote is the way Paul seems to connect the conflict b/t his dual "identities" with these financial expectations. Perhaps the CAPSLOCK emotional hysteria related in the book is puffed up for drama, but it does bring to mind one of the most revealing comments Linda ever made about their relationship, which is that Paul needed to be told he would still be loved when the cameras weren't rolling. And that's the thing: Francie caught Paul at the exact moment that the pillars of his Smile-For-The-Camera "Beatle" identity were collapsing; the dissolution of his relationships with John and Jane.

Whatever all this could possibly mean re: the breakup of the Lennon-McCartney partnership is a post for another time. What I wanna do instead is apply the level of speculation we usually reserve for that relationship to the endpoint of Paul and Jane's courtship.

So like, Paul and Jane: I know people are resistant to this specific POV, but I honestly just don't... think it was that deep? "Not deep", mind you, doesn't mean "not significant". Paul was obviously Jane's first love (u never forget), but the feeling I get from Paul's side (as a subconscious process I mean) is that Jane's importance was primarily as a lynchpin in his London Socialite persona. He loved her family, he loved the friend group, the artistic scene dating her gave him access to, as well as the leg up he got in the class system, etc. He liked to be the kind of guy who was dating Jane Asher. But I don't know that he was the guy who was dating Jane Asher, you get me? When people describe their "great love" they accidentally tell on them (Cynthia innocently describing Paul as being pleased to have her on his arm like a trophy; John: "it was an ordinary love scene"; Alistair Taylor noting that Paul was humiliated by the breakup). Paul's a serial monogamist who U-Hauls like a lesbian, of course, so he definitely took the relationship VERY seriously, but it's telling that all of his love songs to her were either about hitting a brick wall in arguments (certainly not dreamy, fond, yearning of "sunday morning fights about saturday night"; and occasionally expressing hints of class tension too), or completely non-descript Guy With A Guitar Trying To Get Laid shit. I could extrapolate a lot about Linda just from listening to McCartney I/RAM and the Wings discography, but 'And I Love Her' doesn't tell me a single thing about Jane besides that she's pretty. It could be about literally anyone the same way 'My Love' or 'Maybe I'm Amazed' could only be about his dynamic with Linda. Some of this is obviously the natural result of getting older and gaining emotional maturity; what I'm saying is that Paul's behaviour and self-expression in this relationship does not suggest to me that it was one in which his emotional maturity was able to develop or flourish.

I want to stress again that I don't think this belittles the significance of the relationship or makes it "bad" or "fake". Like, sometimes hot people just date for a while in their teens and twenties and love each other without necessarily unlocking their inner emotional cores, usually because they don't know how to. It's, like, fine. You need to experience relationships like that as stepping stones. I simply believe that this sort of front-facing social importance being prime in the romance is a major factor in why it ultimately didn't work (and probably in Linda's reported lingering jealousy of Jane, who wasn't just an ex, but also a symbol of the life Paul ditched to build a new identity w/ her, and sometimes still pined for). With Jane, Paul was dating the "right" kind of girl (didn't put out on the first date, erudite and middle class, as serious about her career as he was, a good "celebrity" match), but the relationship often wasn't doing what he wanted it to do. Francie's observation is that by 1968 it also wasn't doing what he needed it to do either. This is the overwhelming "mood" in her affair with Paul McCartney: that he needed something very badly from a romantic partner that he just was NOT getting, and Francie couldn't figure out what it was either:

(note that she means "queer" as in "mad", not "gay")

This was an EXTREMELY roundabout way of asking: well, what WAS it that Paul needed a relationship to do for him? And I think this is Francie's big, accidental insight. The most scandalous claim in 'Body Count' is that Paul told Francie that he hit Jane and it "turned her on".

I personally think this is p. absurd absent any real proof to back it up, but like, what is Francie actually saying HE'S saying here? If she's exaggerating or lying, she's trying to make it believable within the psychological parameters laid out, right? It's not an expression of some secret desire to dominate women she's accusing him of, but emotional disturbance and confusion at the idea that the woman he was with might like that sort of forceful, masculine violence more than his softer, feminine side, which he was - yeah, we all know it - deeply insecure about.

Regardless of whether specific details are true or false (and I think there's both in this story, all hyper-magnified to make it, y'know, a ~STORY~), I think what might be true is the emotional undertow of the retelling, that this all taken together is actually representative of the side of Paul McCartney she was exposed to, at a time when his public and private facades had both become unbearable to the point of cracking and the drug-fueled optimism of the Summer of Love was getting scrubbed off of everyone and everything. It's the Paul McCartney who eviscerated frogs because he was worried he was too "soft" for compulsory military service. The Paul who modelled his masculine teen behaviour off John Lennon's fake "Marlon Brando" swagger, but was actually more fond of the velvet "Oscar Wilde" interior.

What's SO FASCINATING about all this to me, is I deeply believe that one of the key factors in what makes The Beatles music so unique and compelling is that both the songwriters experienced psychological strain from the tension b/t their parochial socially-defensive "masculine" pride, and their sensitive "feminine" core, the latter of which they were able to express in the unburdened emotionality of their music. The reason I care about doing these totally unhinged psych analyses is because I do think it reveals something about the underpinnings of the music, as well as the reasons why the band was such a hysteria-inducing phenomenon (the rise of psychology, imo, is almost as important as the rise of industrialization as a defining factor of the modern and postmodern eras; mass psychology can be understood and wielded in precise ways, and The Beatles were one of the first empires built on that). The subconscious drives caused by this tension have been ENDLESSLY picked apart re: John's psyche, but Paul's "mirrored" issues are very under-discussed (mostly b/c he's still alive so people are a little more leery about putting him on the "couch" as a historical figure). 'Body Count', intentionally or not, painted a portrait to me of someone who was drowning in their own ill-fitting celebrity "suit", collapsing under the weight of "Being" "Paul McCartney". A guy who desperately needed some sort of space to be vulnerable without feeling emasculated for doing it. By 1968, there was no one in his life anymore - and maybe there hadn't been for a while, or ever - who was giving him this space.

In other words: the thing he needed to avoid going "stark raving queer and killing himself" was simply someone who would love him 'after the ball'.

EDIT: read the comments for further clarification and discussion! ;)

#/#//#///#////#/////#the beatles #mccharmley #analysis #long post #Talking About Paul The Way I Talk About John lmfao #Taking Tabloid Bullshit Seriously #(if not literally)#*gets out my fake spectacles and jumps into the psychiatry armchair*#idk if i laid out my thoughts v well here but i hope it satisfied all the people who asked #i also tried to warn what genre of post it was for those who hate this kinda thing lol #i feel like i have more to say re: how toxic 'The Beatle' facade got for all of them by this point #and paul and john's mirrored post-india breakdowns #but francie's perspective is specifically on how it felt to be the girl he used to divebomb his relationship with jane asher SO

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twstedtales · 3 years

Note

Hello sweetie! How are you?

Since requests are open, can I request for a Jamil scenario with fem reader, please? She likes to flirts with him, like a lot. Sometimes he does the same or is taking by surprise by her and blushes (Idk, I let you choose how he reacts). Jamil don't believe her feelings are true and she's just playing with him until she kisses him.

Sorry if that's too long and for any grammar mistakes, I still practicing my english.

Kisses! 🌸🇧🇷

𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒.

❝a kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.❞ - Ingrid Bergman

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | jamil viper × female reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1,083

𝐭𝐰 | none!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | Hello, anon-chan! I am fine ehe and your english is just fine! I'm gonna be honest with you...I'm not good at writing flirting scenarios ahahaha. Still, I hope this suffices!

Jamil Viper had believed that peopleーhumans and non-humans alikeーwould always have dirty and ill intentions when approaching others; as people easily do it for either money and power, or both, blinded by greed.

In this world, there's really no such a pure-hearted person. Because no matter how genuine they act to someone, there are inevitable times they would hurt others, intentionally or otherwise.

And at first glance, one cannot be sure if what they're seeing is genuine. And sometimes, even a second glance brings that much difference. That's the reason why Jamil had to sharpen himself forcefully. He had to know what kind of ill intentions people are hiding when approaching him…

However, among all humans and non-humans alike he had met so far, there's that particular odd one out.

"You just don't know when to give up, aren't you?" Jamil gave you an unimpressed stare, his mouth curling downwards in displeasure as he saw you approaching him during Alchemy class.

"Uwah, hello there, lover boy! As always, you look like a dashing charmer!" You waved enthusiastically at him, studiously ignoring his cold treatment. "Just wanna ask my usual question today. Do you like me now?"

"No," He rolled his eyes at you before squarely turning away. "And never will be. I had no time for you, so go away."

His rejection didn't bother you at all, in all honesty, the lone fact that he talked to you made you grinned triumphantly. "Okay. I'll ask again tomorrow. Maybe by then you'll like me."

It was the same scene as yesterday. And the day before. And the one before that day as well. Every day was the same; you would cheerfully approach him with that stupidly bright smile of yours that dimly reminded him of Kalim's (which grates his nerves further, at first), compliments him how he looks so good in the morning, helps him in his tasks which he certainly didn't ask you to but had to begrudgingly agreed due to the lack of manpower, and then ask him if he finally likes you back…

Your lack of embarrassment in saying stuff that should be said with careful tact is honestly taking him off guard. Especially when he was faced with something unexpected, such as Professor Crewel suddenly partnering him with you during an activity.

"You shouldn't try to fight fate, luv." You laughed aloud as you handed him vials and different plants for your activity. "It obviously wants us to be together!"

Talking to you further stressed him out, so Jamil had determinedly ignored you and your apparently flirting comments as if they're bullets when hitting him. Especially when you make sudden noises when your hands "accidentally" brushes his.

"Great Sevens, did you feel that?! The sparks between you and me!" Your eyes brightened as you stared at your hand in wonder.

"Just...give me that damn glass and shut up."

Though he won't admit it aloud, Jamil had gotten used to your consistent pestering and openly displaying your "love" for him to the point he himself couldn't really believe how he was looking forward everyday when you ask him if he finally likes you back. Not to mention it strokes his ego a lot that you pay attention to himーcompliments him without an ounce of hesitation. And you were directing it all to himーnot to Kalim, or to anyone else.

But there was that snarky part of him that's telling him that you were just using him for something he didn't know of yet. That you were only doing...all of that because you wanted him to believe in you, to let his guard down around you. And when he finally does so (which was close enough, in all honesty) you would strike down what your true intent was…

This keeps him awake at night, wondering what in the world you wanted from him. Why he would fall into a small daze during the lull of the afternoon, or what it would feel like to tear off that bright smile from your face when he finally...finally had you under his control. How he wanted to see you lose that composure you wore so cooly around him even though you were practically declaring your love for him.

"Stop it," he gritted out one morning, his grey eyes boring holes to your skull as you once again took the chance to approach him. "Stop playing games with me."

"What game?" You asked, genuinely confused.

"Everything!" He snarled at you angrily. "Stop approaching me with that damn smile of yours. Stop complimenting me. Stop flirting with me. And stop telling me you like me, for the sake of all things in Twisted Wonderland. I've had enough with your games! This is not a Brontë novel, you won't be able to fool meー"

His words were abruptly cut off when you suddenly yanked the collar of his shirt and smashed his lips with yours intensely and without an ounce of hesitation. Your lips covering his rather boldly as you tried to move clumsily together with his.

Jamil was mostly frozen in place, for once not knowing how to react. But aside from the boldness of your action, he did take a note absentmindedly how your lips seem to tremble and the initial confidence you displayed when you yanked him to you had slowly disappeared into a more...meek and shy movements, as if just then you were realising what you had done.

What was seconds that felt like eternity had stopped, you finally pulled away from him, blushing from head to toe. Keeping a firm grip on his collar, you stared deeply at his eyes, conveying all your emotions into your gaze, praying that he would...finally, believed in you.

"Do you really think I'm lying to you all this time?" You asked him, incredulous. "Look at me in the eyes, or use whatever spell you have, feel my heartbeat, look into my mind. This is how I am when I'm around you. Can't you really see that?"

At first glance, one cannot be sure if what they're seeing is genuine. And sometimes, even a second glance brings that much difference...but what if, if he look at things with his heart, though...maybe he'll be able to see what he were really supposed to see?

Maybe admitting liking you will be worth all the risk he's about to take...

#twst #twisted wonderland #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #twst jamil #scarabia #athy writes #requests for athy #curiouser and curiouser #twst x you #twst x reader #female reader

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abbatoirablaze · 2 years

Text

Bunk Mates, Chapter 9

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: sexual tension, medical situation, mentions of a birth.

"Lola Polansky's room," Eddie smiled as he reached the maternity ward, "I'm uh, the father."

"Mr. Penisi," one of the nurses called out to him, "in here."

He ran into the room as the rest of A shift came in with the baby pool board. Granny was singing, "who's gonna make this money y'all."

"5k baby, baby," Andy grinned excitedly, “gonna make it raiiin!”

"Babe, you made it," Ike said running up to me, "how'd you know?"

"Well, I was gonna surprise you on your shift today," I smiled, "then I ran into Eddie in the parking lot and he asked me to drive him because he couldn't find his keys. I couldn't say no to that. He's gonna be a dad."

"I said no more gambling!" Chief McConkey said as he and Vicky came into the waiting area.

"You said in the station," Granny pointed out, “and we’re at a hospital.”

"Stop it Terry," Vicky said, elbowing him, "baby pools are fun."

"It's a boy," Eddie smiled, coming back out into the room. Vicky, Terry, and I congratulated him, while Ike, Andy, and Granny started huffing.

"LUCY AGAIN!" Granny pointed out.

"Everyone said girl?" Chief Terry asked.

"Yeah," Granny sighed, "everyone except Lucy."

"Time of birth 4:14," Eddie said, "weight 8 pounds 3 ounces."

"Lucy and Lucy," Granny said, "are you kidding me? Wait, wait wait. CAP! Cap, cap. Can you tell us anything else?"

"I gotta get a dog."

"What was that?" Andy asked.

"Mr. Penisi, Lola would like to introduce you to your new son."

"Excuse me, nurse?" Granny asked, "was there an epidural?"

"Any extra fingers or toes?"

"Testicle size," Ike said, "pea, peanut, or walnut."

"Pea size," Andy pleaded "pea size?"

"Baby pool?" she asked. The guys all agreed and began nodding their heads, "I got you."

"You're gonna make a great dad," Terry said, clapping Eddie on the back and handing him a cigar, “congrats brother.”

"I'm so proud of you," Vicky said, going to hug her brother. She kissed him on the cheek, and they began conversating. I looked at Ike who was deeply focused on the baby pool, and I found myself thinking back to the other night when we'd had our date night.

I smiled to myself as he concentrated. I love this man.

"Lucy won every box in the baby pool," Andy groaned, “I can’t believe it!”

"What?" she asked

"You did," Ike confirmed, "every single thing. You won everything."

"HELL YESSSS!" she yelled, scaring the piss outta me. She had changed her voice so deep it was the manliest voice I've ever heard from a woman, "BABY POOLS ARE THE SHIT!"

"What a sore winner," Andy commented shaking his head, “come on Lucy. Have some class about it!”

There was a tap on the glass, and we all started walking up to it. Vicky and I were cooing over the baby.

"Oh my god," I sighed. I could feel Ike wrap his arms around my waist, and his head perched itself on my shoulder, "that baby is so cute."

"Just imagine if we had one," Ike whispered, "all those little fingers and toes...and babies are the cutest when they yawn."

"Do you ever think about kids, Ike?"

"All the time," he admitted softly, "I definitely want to be a dad one day."

"Yeah?" I asked, turning slightly so that I was facing him. He nodded and pointed back to the glass. I turned around.

"Look at all that red hair." I smiled as the nurse took the hat off the baby

"Oh that's weird cap, because you don't have red hair. You know who does have red hair. Captain Polansky. He even looks like Polansky."

Eddie looked like he had a mini mental breakdown before telling everyone it was a good thing that the baby wasn't his and that he was most certainly not ready to be a father. This did however mean that he was the only one that would win the baby pool, as he'd placed a bet that the baby was in fact, not his.

Unfortunately, apparently Lucy had a bit of a gambling problem since the chief had banned gambling for the A shift, and she had a severe losing streak. After she told the guys she had lost the 5 grand on a horse race, and some much needed prying of Ike's hands from Andy's throat we were all gearing up to leave.

"I just can't believe she did that," Granny groaned, “that’s insane.”

"Oh you know cap and chief are gonna make her pay back every penny."

"Oh yeah," I nodded with the guys. Ike slipped his hand into mine, and we began walking a little slower so that everyone was in front of us.

Ike stayed back for a moment, when the guys turned down the hall, he lifted my hand up to his lips and kissed it, "I just want you to know that I love you."

"I love you too," I smiled, gently nudging him, “today…was interesting though…no more baby pools.”

"I just wanted you to know that I love you," Ike smiled softly, “and after walking past all those infants, my mind is racing at how cute little babies are.”

"You're awfully lovey today," I giggled, playfully bumping into him again, "you catching the baby fever?"

"Do the babies have fevers?" he asked, instantly getting worried.

I giggled, shaking my head, "it's a saying baby. Saying someone has baby fever is like saying someone really wants to have a baby."

"Yeah," he shrugged, "I guess I do."

"You do what?"

"Have baby fever," he said nonchalantly, "but if I did, how would you react."

"Well, I mean wouldn't you want to move in with me first?" I asked, "you know, before we had a baby?"

"Do you want me to move in?" he asked.

"I would hope you would."

Ike’s POV

"I can tell you this," Cap said, looking at us. He had the straightest face ever, but he lost the words halfway through and becoming a mess, "this is the best day of my life. Today everything is gonna be different."

I felt those emotions with every fiber of my being. I looked at my girlfriend and thought back to our date night the other night when we went through two bottles of wine. I thought about how she pleaded for me to be in her, and what I really wanted to do.

"I want a baby," I whispered to myself. Andy looked at me sideways, "I gotta get a dog."

"What was that?" Andy asked.

Shit.

"I said I gotta get a dog."

"No, no," he whispered as the nurse talked to cap, "before that. You said something else."

"Excuse me, nurse?" Granny asked, "was there an epidural?"

"Oh," Andy asked, forgetting about what I said, "Any extra fingers or toes?"

"Testicle size," I said, chiming in, "pea, peanut, or walnut."

"Pea size," Andy pleaded "pea size?"

"Baby pool?" she asked. The guys all agreed and began nodding their heads, "I got you."

"Lucy won every box in the baby pool," Andy groaned after the nurse began removing our sticky notes one by one.

"What?" she asked.

"You did," I confirmed, "every single thing. You won everything."

"HELL YESSSS!" she yelled in the most manly voice I've ever heard from a woman, "BABY POOLS ARE THE SHIT!"

"What a sore winner," Andy commented.

There was a tap on the glass, and we all started walking up to it. Vicky and Alex were cooing over the baby.

"Oh my god," she sighed, looking at the baby. I walked up and wrapped my arms around her waist, and placed my head on her shoulder, "that baby is so cute."

"Just imagine if we had one," I whispered, "all those little fingers and toes...and babies are the cutest when they yawn."

"Do you ever think about kids, Ike?"

"All the time," I admitted. My mind went back to our last date night when I'd considered not putting on a condom and not pulling out, "I definitely want to be a dad one day."

"Yeah?" she asked, turning slightly so that she was facing me. She looked like she was studying me. I nodded and pointed back to the glass. She turned around.

"Look at all that red hair," Alex smiled as the nurse took the hat off the baby.

"Oh that's weird cap, because you don't have red hair. You know who does have red hair. Captain Polansky. He even looks like Polansky."

"Oh my god," he said, turning towards us, "that's amazing. That's amazing.

"Wait?" Mrs. McConkey asked, "you're happy?"

"Not my baby."

"What about the speech you just made about how it changed your life?"

"Are you kidding me," cap asked, "I wasn't ready to have a kid. Anyone that believed I could be a dad is an idiot. "

"Well."

"If that's not Eddie Penisi's baby, then this isn't Eddie Penisi's baby pool," Granny yelled, pointing at the board, “which means Lucy lost!”

"That's right!" I said, looking at Granny, "I want my money back."

"Wait," Lucy said quickly, "Hold on. It's still a baby pool."

"But it's not Eddie Penisi's baby pool. Look at the name at the top of the board," Andy smiled, "the bets are all moot."

"Yeah," I added in, "and they don't count anymore either."

"All bets aside from that one down there," Cap grinned, pointing to a small post it notes that said 'side bet, not Eddie's baby: Eddie.'

"Did you know?" Granny asked.

"Not at all," he smiled, "but I always like to hedge my bets."

"Son of a bitch," Andy smirked, shaking his head, “Cap won.”

"That makes me the only winner, so hand over that money probie."

"But that's only one little bet."

"He's right," Chief said, "hand over the money. Money's his."

"See here's the thing," Luce sighed, “I kind of can’t.”

"What did you do?" Mrs. McConkey asked.

"I bet the baby pool money on a horse race, and I lost it all."

"What?" I asked, grabbing Andy around the neck. Lucy began talking about how she placed a bet on a horse race and lost it all because she was so far in debt. Meanwhile, Alex was removing my hands from Andy's throat.

"Well, do you want to move in?" she asked.

"Yeah," I admitted, "I mean, if you want me to."

"I do," she said, biting her lip.

"Well I want to.”

"Okay," she smiled, “let’s do it.”

I copied her actions.

If I moved in with her, that was like her saying she wanted the next step. Because she said that she wanted to live with a person before having a baby with them...but her and I already sort of lived together. I stayed over most nights, and we had even started decorating the house together. It was almost like it was becoming our home.

As she ran to catch up with the group, I reached into my pocket, and pulled out the ring I'd been holding onto. It wasn't something that I was sure that she wanted yet, but I knew I wanted it. I wanted us to get there one day...and here she was talking about living together and a future child...

It just all felt so right.

"Ike!" Granny yelled, coming around the corner. I tucked the ring back into my pocket, "what are you doing, man?"

"Nothing." I lied. I ran to catch up with him, "Nothing. Just lost in my thoughts."

Chapter 10

#tacoma fd #trutv #firefighters #bunk mates #ike crystal #andy mywani #granville #terry mcconky #lucy mcconky #lucy mconky #eddie penisi

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pretoriafics · 3 years

Text

If I wasn't a goddamn werewolf - Pt. 6

Heyy! The series is ending, but we still have more chapters to come! Enjoy it while it lasts!

You are so done with all of that drama with men! Word count: 2.573 Pairings: Reader x Derek; Reader x Platonic!Laura Contain: Some angst, Original characters (Daniel, your boyfriend; Lafayette, your friend) Warnings: English is not my main language <3; Inappropriate language TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST PART 1 | PART 5

Seventeen years later, Santa Monica, California

"Yeah, girl, I know it's annoying. I mean, live in Beacon Hills? C'mon! There's nothing there!"

Lauren was lay down on her mom and dad's bed, talking with her best friend on her cell phone. The room was entirely filled with boxes: Lauren and her parents were moving to Beacon Hills, which had left her completely annoyed. It's hard for a 15 years old teenager to moving away from her friends to live in a completely different - and smaller - city. Then, she heard a voice calling her.

"Lauren..."

You were at the door frame, with your arms crossed and a serious face. When Lauren saw you, her eyes got widen, and she talks with her friend.

"Uh, Brittany, I have to go. You know, my mom is here giving me that glare. I'll call you later, okay? Bye."

Lauren turns off her phone, and you stare at her.

"I thought you were putting the rest of the things from the cabinet in the boxes."

"I was, but Brit called me and-"

Daniel stopped close to you, looking at Lauren with arched eyebrows.

"What's happening? Lauren, I thought you were putting the things from the cabinet in the boxes."

The teenager rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to do it right now, dammit!"

Daniel looks at you, trying to avoid Lauren's sudden bad mood.

"I'll gonna wait for you downstairs."

You nod for him while Daniel moves away from you. Then, you look at Lauren that was taking a few boxes out from the cabinet.

"Look, I'll go downtown with your dad. I'll be here soon, and then we'll leave. Be ready. I'm serious."

"Okay."

You let your older daughter alone in your bedroom, with your stuff being put in the moving boxes. Then, a suitcase caught Lauren's attention. It was beautiful, made with red velvet. She never saw that thing before. Moving by her curiosity, she opened it. Inside it, Lauren found a few things: a photo album, a necklace with a triskelion pendant, and a diary. The first thing Lauren took was the diary, and when she opened it, she saw a plane ticket to Vegas. That travel was made exactly seventeen years before she was born. With that plane tickets, Lauren also found two polaroid photographs. There, she saw you and Laura Hale with eyeglasses on a sunny afternoon in front of the famous "Welcome to Las Vegas" sign. On the back of that specific photo, a handwritten quote that made Lauren gave a fun smile:

Who cares 'bout the men?

Today, Beacon Hills

Well, Daniel was not Derek's favorite person at all. Was It due to his jealousy? Oh, probably. However, Derek still has his own moral values. It wasn't fair with Daniel what happened between you and Derek, and Hale was completely sure about it. He felt guilty, and if your relationship with Derek wasn't the best earlier, now it seems to get worse. You were feeling guilty about sleeping with him while being in a relationship with Dan, as well as Derek was. He was a nice guy. Daniel didn't deserve it.

Derek was in the hospital where Daniel was working, inside his office with both sitting at the chairs. He made a few questions that would help him to solve the supernatural problem in the city, and despite he had noticed that Daniel wasn't also his biggest fan, he was being pretty collaborative.

"...And this is all I know and saw. I was lucky, I mean, I could have died that night."

Derek nod. Yeah, he could. Despite all, Derek was glad nothing had happened with Daniel.

"Well, a friend of mine managed to escape, so I'm just trying to understand what has happened there."

Daniel stares at him while sitting in his chair, with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"You know what, Hale? I don't believe you."

Derek arched his eyebrows. He was surely not expecting that.

"...I think I haven't understood you."

"I don't know much about you, but I know you the Hales are different than the most. Inside that bar, I saw things that I can't understand, just like I can't understand things about you and your family."

Well, he really was not expecting that. After a few weird silent seconds, Derek stares at him.

"There a few things outside that could be better for you if you stay away from."

"I noticed."

"I know. You're smart."

"Yeah, Hale. I am." Daniel stood up from his chair, as well as Derek. Daniel gives him a glare, almost deadly "I'm also smart enough to know there three people in my relationship, am I right, Derek?"

Jeez... In that room and in front of that serious man, Derek could feel what feels like a punch at his stomach. Daniel's words made him dizzy.

But he wouldn't let Daniel affects him.

"I don't know, Daniel. You should talk with (Y/N) to find out. I don't have the answers you want."

"Are you sure you haven't?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Already too annoyed to care, Derek gives his back to Daniel and walks to the door "This is not high school, Daniel. Go talk with her."

And when Derek finally opened the door to leave...

"Derek, wait."

When Derek looks at Daniel, he felt heartbroken. Daniel wasn't with a cold expression anymore. He was surely lost and... heartbroken as well.

"I'm sorry." He started to talk. "I know any of this is your fault. I just know that she is in love with you. She always has." Daniel stares at the floor, melancholic "I envy you. I wish she could love me just like he loves you."

If Daniel's goal was to let Derek without words to say, he achieved it. With the door's handle in his hand, Derek just stares at Daniel without any sign of what he could say. Dammit. It would be the right choice to put all the jealousy to the side to help him someway. Before he could stay anything, Daniel asks:

"Do you love her? Just be honest with me. I need some... Clue of what I should do."

Derek hesitates. However, if it would help him, he would answer. He nods positively, and Daniel lets out a long sigh. This time was Derek's turn to say something.

"I'm serious when I say you need to talk with her."

"I will." Daniel let out a short and humorless laugh. "I'm the intruder here."

"Daniel, I-"

"I will talk with her, Derek. Thank you."

You were heartbroken. You broke up with Daniel. You knew he was bad with it, but when you talked with him about it, you were pretty sure that was the right thing to do. He didn't ask you why you did it or how you decided it. Well, it wasn't like you didn't want to break up with him. It was just the way things happened between both of you. You knew you were being unfair and unfaithful, and that was the reason you felt so bad.

So, he decided to give you a break. You could be back with time, and he was pretty sure he could make you forget all about Derek. And talking about him... Well...

Everyone in the pack knew about you and Daniel, and that's why everyone gave you a break from everything. Without saying things directly, everyone was trying to help you to trespass this phase: Laura appeared at your house with chocolate bars and some movies suggestions to watch. Talia made your favorite food and called you to have lunch at her house. Derek gives you a break about all the supernatural stuff and about himself, and Peter gave you a lot of alcoholic drinks bottles.

But the fact was: You was so done about men! You were so done about all of that drama about Derek and Daniel! Crap! You need some rest.

Two weeks after your breakup with Daniel, you called Laura. It was 1AM, and the older Hale quickly answered your call.

"(Y/N)! What happened?"

"I know it's late, I know." You started to say, sitting on your couch with a glass of wine in one of your hands "But I needed to ask you something."

"...So this is not an emergency? You know, you're not in danger, you didn't say anything-"

"Do you have money?"

Laura's mind got a lack with your question.

"...What?"

"Do you have money? I mean..." You let out a long sigh "Girl... I'm so done with all this shit."

"Wait" Laura sat on her bed "Are you with financial problems or something like that?"

"No, girl. I was thinking about making a trip. We can buy the tickets tomorrow."

The older Hale's sister arched her eyebrows.

"Where do we wanna go?"

"Vegas. You know, who cares 'bout the men? I just want to give me a break, stop feeling guilty and all this shit."

A smile takes form on Laura's lips. She admires your will to move on, and she surely will not let you alone. And Vegas? Oh, it would be fun girls' travel.

"That's my girl. I'll buy the plane tickets right now."

And the next morning, there Laura was! Her suitcase was close to the main door of the house when Derek came from his loft. Confused, he stares at the suitcase and then his sister.

"I didn't know you would travel."

"Neither do I. But you know what? I'm kinda excited. It will be fun."

Derek arch his eyebrows. It was certainly not the answer he was asking for. Then, the doorbell rings. Talia appears from the doorframe of the living room.

"I'll open it."

And when Talia opened the door, there you are: A car was waiting on the street, and you were with a huge smile on your face. Talia's heart got warm when she saw you that way.

"Hi, dear. Laura's ready."

"Oh, really? Great, because I'm already am too."

You got into the house, and despite Derek's heart failed a beat when he saw you, he still with a huge interrogation point on his head.

"Do you talked with that friend?" Laura asked for you while she takes her suitcase from the floor.

"Yeah, he is waiting for us outside. He knows everything about Vegas. The best places to eat, to have fun..."

Completely lost about that matter, Derek followed you and his sister outside.

"Wait, are you going to Vegas?"

Before you could answer him, a car stopped behind your friend's car: It was Daniel, running in your direction. You let out a long sigh in annoyance, and Derek got even more confused. Laura looks at you with wide eyes.

And this is how things exploded: In front of the Hale house.

"(Y/N), wait!" Daniel runs in your direction "I know things got complicated between us, but can we please talk? Wait." Daniel stares at Derek, and then he stares at you "What are you doing here?"

Without any patience for all of that and already too tired to care, you stare at him.

"I'm here to take my goddamn best friend on a trip. Daniel, please, you were being great during those days, but please, don't try to create drama now."

"I'm not trying to create any drama, (Y/N). I just want to talk and solve things. I think you already had time enough to put things straight on your head, so we can talk and try to solve the things that are going wrong between us."

Oh, man... You couldn't believe it.

"Are you serious, Daniel?! What part of "we're done" you couldn't understand?!"

All that drama made the entire pack suddenly appear in the front door: While Talia watches everything with wide eyes and Laura stares at you and Dan like a tennis play, Cora, Isaac, Boyd, Erica, and Peter had run to know what the hell is going on.

Yeah, it was such a scene. A worthy soap operas drama. Oh, and things got even worse when Derek invaded your arguing with your, now, ex-boyfriend.

"Look, leave her alone. She already said what was needed."

That was enough to make Peter look at his niece Cora.

"Well, I miss pop-corn right now."

Derek's presence made Daniel blush in pure rage. His eyes stare at Hale in a homicidal way.

"No one asked anything for you, Derek. This is all your fault! We were great before you come back!"

Your eyes got widen, already knowing what all of that would result in. You knew Derek and Daniel so well to know things probably would evolve. They were two stubborn men wanting the same woman. Things would get worse, surely.

"Look" Derek approaches Daniel, with a low and threatening voice "I'll request you politely one time, and I just do it once: You'll get the hell outta here and leave (Y/N)'s alone, or I swear that I'll rip your throat."

"Enough!"

Your yell was what they needed to finally look at you. The arguing between Derek and Daniel ended with both of them looking at you. It was your turn to say a few things:

"Daniel, look at me: You're being stubborn as hell. I don't want to come back to you. I don't feel anything other than a friendship about you. That's why I broke up. I don't love you."

"You are telling me a thing that I already know, (Y/N). I'm just saying that we just need some time to-"

"We don't need time, Daniel! Do you know what we need? We need to not date! Do you got it, or do I need to draw it for you?" You stare at Derek, talking with him now "I appreciate your gentleman manners, but I know how to defend myself. And you know what?" You look at both men now, raising your middle fingers. "Fuck you both! I'm choosing myself. You guys can punch each other if you want. I don't give a fuck."

Both of them were looking at you in shock, and your face was warm in rage. Actually, everyone was looking at you in shock because you were freaking out. You yelled again, looking at your friend's car.

"Lafayette!"

From the car, a stunning black drag queen with pink hair came out.

"Hi, dear!"

"We're leaving. Could you please help Laura with her bag? Thank you!"

Lafayette approaches Laura and took her suitcase, bringing it to the car. Then, you grabs Laura's wrist and started to drag her to the car. The older Hale sister looks at everyone with wide eyes.

"Let's get outta here, Laura. I'm done with that shit!" You both got into the car, as soon as Lafayette, and you look at Laura "If you bring a man to our hotel's bedroom, I swear by God that I'll get your heart out with my hand."

You were definitely freaking out. You really were so done with all of that shit!

"Girl..." Laura stares at you, scared "You're definitely spending too much time with my family. You even learned how to threaten someone."

"Hey, girls" Lafayette looks at both of you in the backseat "No men, no drama! Let's go!"

Lafayette turns on the car, and Be Happy by CLMD starts to play loud. Then, the three of you were running to LA in the direction of a relaxing and fun trip. And to be happy.

TAGLIST: @teen-wolf-obsessed4life

#teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fanfics #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf fics #teen wolf imagines #derek hale fic #derek hale fanfic #derek hale fanfiction #derek hale x reader #derek hale imagines #derek hale imagine #SoundCloud

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spade-snax · 3 years

Text

Alright! Here goes my Bugsnax Grumpus last name headcanon!

(This ended up being way longer than I thought it would've been, oh god-)

I think we all can agree that the headcanon where a Grumpus child has their parent's combined last names as their own last name is a very common headcanon people share. It's a good one! Even I like it a lot. And when applied to OCs or fankids it makes for some hilarious names.

It'd make sense in-canon and I feel like it gives the Grumpus world more depth as their own little tradition. (Honestly give me ANY culture/tradition headcanon for Grumpuses PLEASE THOSE ARE MY FAVORITEEEE I even had one for teeth a while ago that I may share publicly one day!!)

But I've been thinking about this, especially because of Cromdo and my own OCs - Neddy and Rason Honeyfidget. With Rason being Neddy's dad, if we only used this headcanon then Neddy shouldn't have this last name... Well, there's a lore reason why he doesnt and that is that his mother has died while he was still an egg, a while before hatching. Rason made him take on "Honeyfidget" only.

But that's just the backstory that got me thinking at the name traditions as a whole, so I'll try to avoid OC talk any further to make this friendlier for others who do not know about my OCs and are just interested in reading this headcanon.

Another headcanon I want to mention as I apply it to my own is the headcanon that Triffany changed her last name to Bronica's last name as a way to honor her. You can definitely change your name to anything you want in the Grumpus world, but changing your last name to a relative's like your grandparent's last name is possibly quite common!

And now I want to bring up Cromdo and the fact he is divorced. It has been confirmed that Cromdo is divorced and that his name may reflect that. (Though originally it was answered in the AMA that "Cromdo Face" just sounded funny at first and that it is possible that he did loose a half of his last name this way!)

Also I want to say that he wasn't abusive to the child mentioned! I remember there was a small confusion and drama about that. And I believe one of the devs on the YH discord mentioned that the 1# tie was a reference to Octodad. I do not remember if that confirmed that he is a father or if this answer by Sage was possibly wrong. He cannot see the child because he lost custody of them and lost in court. I do not have screenshot evidence of this. On a side-note I believe this could be one of the reasons he grew to be so money hungry. He didn't have enough money back then to keep his child. Again I want to say it could be ONE of the reasons and not the exact reason why he is this way.

This is more so of an ramble about my headcanon and what I want to say rather than some comprehensive thing, I am so sorry dfwergeg it's just how I write and explain things and I gotta mention it ALL (Great addition to "Guzma, your ADHD is showing")

Anyways, back on track with my HC.

But in this/my headcanon - Cromdo is divorced, he has had a child, and lost a part of his last name because of the divorce. I do not know how human marriage last name and stuff works properly so uh, see this as just speculation about a fictional species' culture rather than a carbon copy of our own. Which it clearly isn't LOL

I personally think that you can do multiple things with your last name when you get married! (And how it can affect the child's last name!)

Let's use Chandlo and Snorpy as examples, because I think they make great last name combinations. (And Snorplo is HELLA !!/pos)

- You can change your last name to your partner's last name, like we do commonly. (At least, with all the cultures I'm aware of and how marriage works for us.) Examples: Snorpy Funkbun, Chandlo Fizzlebean

(This one isn't very common to do!)

- You can change one half of your last name to a half from your partner's last name. Examples: Snorpy/Chandlo Funkbun/Fizzlebun

(Not as common either, but it still happens. It is actually more common than the first example. This was the case for Cromdo. I'll get back to this later. Grumps usually reserve this for their childen, which is the most common way of naming your children!)

- You keep your last name after marriage! Example: Snorpy Fizzlebean. Chandlo Funkbun. Canon examples would be Wambus and Triffany as well!

(Most common one to do as many wear their last names with pride or for other reasons - such as Trifanny when she changed her last name to Bronica's last name in this headcanon.)

Before we get to the kids again, I'm gonna go back to Cromdo and what can happen during divorce.

During divorce you can simply change your name back if you changed it, or keep the last name you took from your partner. Many simply change their last names back to what they were originally. Some, if they went by the half/half method, take away the half from their ex-partner only. This leaves some Grumpuses with one worded last names, such as Cromdo.

I think he changed a half of his last name during marriage. After the divorce, he didn't want to "wear" his partner's name anymore and changed his name to Cromdo Face only as Face was a part of his last name he was given at birth. This is most often the default for Grumpuses who have been divorced and took only half of their partner's last name.

If Cromdo - (or any Grumpus with a one-word last name! There's certainly rare cases of Grumpuses who have one word that didn't go through divorce. Possibly Grumpuses with bad attachment to one of their parents - so they change or remove that half of the last name they got from said parent. If their last name was a combination.) - were to re-marry he could take one half of his new partner's last name, or not change his name at all.

I want to get onto how naming a child would work with this situation, so I will talk about ways of naming children before I get back to this! And by naming I of course mean the last names only, lol.

(One rule is that, unless you change your name later in real life for any reason, it's gonna have to be one of these otherwise! Your Grump parent cannot make you up a new last name. It is just a part of the tradition they have. Though re-naming isn't looked upon in any way by the majority of Grumpuses as there are many reasons to do so!! Unless you're a jerk or you value your last name TOO much.) (Also when I say "you" I don't mean YOU as the reader literally. I mean a hypothetical Grumpus child!! It's just how I like wording things.

(...I've been writing for almost an hour, brain scrampled eg)

- Your last name is the combined name of your parent's last names. Examples: Fizzlebun, Funkbean

(VERY COMMON! Most Grumpuses will do this when first naming their child!)

- Your keep one of your parent's last name! Fizzlebean or Funkbun.

(This all works if you have multiple parents btw! Can make for SUPER crazy long and funny last names. This *all* applies to marriage, too! I hope it is easily applicable. I do not want to go in depth on that. Feel free to hit me an ask about this if you want me to explain it more in depth!! I wouldn't want to exclude polyamorous relationships ^^ )

(Also yes, last names that are just the same word repeated twice/multiple times are possible too. Fizzlefizzle, Funkfunk... How fun are these to say? Gives me Grumpus OC name ideas already.)

But yes! Back to Cromdo! Or any Grumpus in the same situation, but as I've stater earlier, Cromdo is just an example here. If he were to re-marry and NOT change his name, there's two posibilities:

His new partner has a full last name.

In this situation, if they have a child they can keep the full last name from Cromdo's partner. Or they can have one word from his partner + Face. For reasons stated below the child cannot have "Face" as their only last name.

His new partner has a one-worded, short last name like he does.

In this situation, if they have a child they have to name it a combination of their last name's. No exception. Having a short last name is a sign of something happening in your life, and it is traditionally not put onto a child, unless they are adopted with no last name. That still counts as something that happened in their life, as their birth parents possibly just gave them away with no care in the world.

------------------------------------------

At this point I am almost completely off track, so please do ask me questions as I am not sure where I completely left off - Or rather if there is something I forgot that I wanted to mention.

By the way, for combining last names and such, you can also mis-match! Doesn't even have to be combinations. This applies to everything, even for (Full last name + one-word last names) where it makes sense the most. Examples: Beanfizzle, Bunfunk, Bunbean, Bunfizzle, Beanbun, Beanfunk. I'm personally a big fan of Bunfunk and Beanbun :P)

And this applies to siblings, too! It isn't uncommon for parents naming their children mis-matched last name combinations if they have multiple ones. (This ties into my headcanon for Filbo's many siblings and that he isn't a single child. He's in a big household and has at least 2 siblings. ONE OF WHICH I want to make into an OC! This requires me to make the parents, too, but I am not so bothered about that :P)

I'm out for now, all my brain power has left me a few paragraphs ago and I've got to go eat lunch

But again I encourage people to ask me questions (If anyone was brave enough to read through this!!)

And if I got anything wrong, do let me know! I am not all-knowing and I could've missed some VERY OBVIOUS mistakes.

And sorry if the writing is wonky at times! Sometimes it is done on purpose but sometimes the fact I only pretend I know how to write + the fact English is my second language IS SHOWING

(Also I sometimes just write how I think, without much thought put into the sentence if I don't proof read, so HSDFWERGRGT)

#bugsnax #longpost #long post #long #bugsnax hc #bugsnax headcanons #bugsnax headcanon #i wanna make sure i tag this right edfwerg #brain scrampled eg.....

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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years

Text

No Mercy

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x thief!Reader

Warnings: non-con, yandere, sex pollen, minor depiction of violence, threats, stalking, allusion to kidnapping, both Bakugo and reader are adults!

Words: 2388.

Summary: Obviously, you have chosen a wrong night to rob that electronics store.

P.S. Yay, this is my first BNHA story!

By the way, there is absolutely no real science in this fic, please don’t bully me for it ahahahah

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Oh dear, it was getting worse.

That morning you had a feeling you better stay home tonight, but your rent wasn't going to pay itself, so you still went out to rob that ugly little electronics store you stumbled upon a few days ago. Now you were being chased by one of the most popular pros, Ground Zero, and saints, you really hoped to keep all your limbs attached to your body: the guy was mad.

Really, you weren't such a villain he had probably pictured you to be. Your job in the cafe wasn't paying well, but with no education whatsoever it was hard to find something else, especially since that big makeup store you finally got yourself in went bankrupt after a villain attack. Your dad wasn't the one to help you stay afloat either, so, with that odd Quirk of yours, there was just one thing left to do.

With a loud sound of something exploding to your right, you jumped in the narrow back alley on the left and prayed Bakugo to at least bring you to a police station instead of finishing you off here. Seriously, who he thought you were? Someone from the League of Villains, huh? You were miserable enough trying to evade his punches, and your knees were already trembling as you were reaching your limit.

Shit, now you'd have to use that embarrassing Quirk of yours and hope it will do something decent.

Despite your Quirk manifesting itself when you were 4 just like everybody else, you were so ashamed of it you did all you could to never bring it up or use it. How embarrassing was it to have an ability to produce animal secretion right out of your hands? One time you had literally sprayed skunk defensive secretion in the class, and after that you had been called a Stinky Girl for the rest of your school days. Damn, even remembering it now was making you ashamed of yourself.

Of course, your control over your Quirk was miserable. You struggled to predict which secretion it would produce, hoping it would be something distracting enough for a hero to let you go, but oh boy Ground Zero didn't seem like the type to be scared of skunk's spray.

Staring at the dead end, you were ready to laugh hysterically - that is, if you had any time left, but Bakugo had already grabbed you by the shoulder and yelled something offensive in your ear, ready to put you down to the ground. Well, it was now or never.

Within a second you took off your black glove you'd always worn on your missions and slapped hero's cheek, leaving an angry red mark on his pale skin. The next moment you were on the ground with a very, very mad Bakugo hovering over you with such expression as if he was going to murder you in cold blood right now.

Apparently, your Quirk was useless, after all. Preparing for the worst, you stared at him, wide-eyed and trembling like a leaf, your hands up defensively to prevent him from harming you. In the end, you didn’t even steal anything as Ground Zero stormed off in the store.

But he didn't hit you. Actually, he didn't do anything at all as you stared at him nervously. He just... stood there with a grimace on his face and did nothing at all.

Oh, was it something new? Did you Quirk finally prove itself useful for once? It was a damn miracle.

"What did you do to me, bitch?" He suddenly barked, and you saw his cheeks slowly getting red as if the temperature went up all of a sudden. "What the fuck is this?!"

Shit. Civet oil. Of course, you couldn't even make some decent quantity to make him repulsed, so now all you got was a completely opposite effect.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?"

Hiccupping, you got up just as he seemed to lean closer to you, so you ended up smashing your forehead against his, and both of your groaned. Although you fell back again, in a couple of seconds you were running for your life with Ground Zero being unusually slow somewhere behind you. Oh shit, now he was going to fuck and kill you. What a nice day you were having.

Struggling to keep running - you didn’t even understand at what part of the city you were now - you were getting out of breath, but you no longer heard Bakugo behind your back, and it was certainly calming. Did civet oil make him slow? You weren't sure what exact effects it had except for the most obvious one. Maybe you got lucky, for once. Maybe he'd let you go just this time, and you'd do your absolute best to find a decent job and stop robbing people. Well, you weren't even robbing regular people, just snobby store owners who'd get their money back with an insurance, anyway. You had never hurt anyone physically! Why treating you as if you were some dangerous criminal?

Whatever. Ground Zero was nowhere to be seen, so you simply landed on the ground in one of small filthy backyards in a shady part of the city. Oh boy, what a run. You thought the guy was literally ready to kill you.

The cold wall you leaned on didn't feel pleasant, but it was better than staying on your feet with your knees trembling and heart beating so fast as if you ran a marathon. Yeah, to think of it, you definitely could call it a marathon.

As you finally took off your mask and wiped your face with your palm, you heard a low growl somewhere to your left, "I'm gonna fucking break you, woman."

Shit.

Scrambling to your feet, you tried dodging him but you were no match to a real pro, especially someone as good at combat as Ground Zero: you ended beneath him within a second, painfully slammed to the ground as he cursed at you, pulling your hair. Apparently, this was the end of you. The civet oil only made the hero more enraged instead of distracting him.

"Ah! It hurts!" You whined at the hair pulling and heard a dangerous hiss above you.

"Do you think this doesn't fucking hurt?"

It was impossible not to feel his obvious arousal, his painfully hard cock pressing against your lower back as the hero suddenly sniffed your hair, then making some weird noises while trying to undo his pants. Nononono, you weren't having this, you'd gladly accompany the hero to the police station where they'd cuff you and put you in prison but not let Ground Zero have his way with you.

"Get off! GET OFF!"

Your attempts to throw him off were futile, and soon he was pulling down your own pants, "You did this to me, didn't you?! So be a good girl and maybe I won't fucking kill you."

You bit down on your lower lip, your hands bound together with his belt.

Huh, there was no other way.

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You came back home around 3 am completely exhausted, dirty and hurt, but it was still better than being thrown in prison after a long Interrogation in a police station. Ground Zero had finally taken some pity on you after all he'd done - oh it hurt, it hurt so bad in between your thighs because you hadn't been in relationship for long, but the hero was neither patient nor gentle with you. It was a miracle he actually let you go after this miserable incident somewhere in the outskirts of the city. Was he at least a little ashamed at what he did? Did he feel any remorse? Although it certainly didn't seem like, maybe he let you go because of it.

"Or he was just afraid to deliver me to police in such state," you chuckled grimly at yourself, grabbing first-aid kit and trying to do something with all these bruises and bites. You still had to take your 10-hour shift in the cafe today, and you could barely imagine how you were going to survive.

Of course, you only slept for a couple of hours before you had to get up: that morning you put so much makeup your boss would definitely scold you, but it was better than showing up with a face of a zombie. Of course, everyone managed to see how you winced while walking. Thank god you were able to convince them of your fall yesterday's evening: you actually only worked half a day as your boss took pity on you and let you go home.

Shit, it was time to put an end to your night adventures. You'd better find one more job and work a whole night long than live through this one more time, humiliated and hurt.

By the time you got home with a grocery bag in your hand, you felt like all you were going to do today was falling down on your bed and staring into the ceiling for hours. It still hurt. It was still embarrassing to remember what he did to you. You still wanted to slap him real hard and then yell at him at the top of your voice.

Funny enough, you actually had a chance to do all that since you found Ground Zero dressed as civilian sitting on your couch.

For a couple of seconds you froze on your place, unable to believe your eyes. What the hell was he doing here? What, yesterday's wasn't enough for this bastard, was it? Did he come to make you even more miserable?

Despite fear rising in your chest, it was soon replaced by fury mixed with disgust: who did he think he were to just break into your apartment like this? You might be a thief, but even you had the right to be delivered to police and then wait till the court decided upon your punishment. Nobody had given Ground Zero permission to rape you or follow you like some sick stalker!

"You live in some fucking hole." He grumbled as he saw you walking much slower than your usual pace, and you thought it was guilt you saw on his face for a mere second.

"Welcome to a fucking hole, then." You hissed at him in return and put your bag on the floor while taking your shoes off and wincing from pain. "If you came to finally take me to a police station, let me put food in the fridge, at least."

Not that you'd need it after your arrest, but the thought of leaving the grocery bag on the floor and let the food rot made you nauseated. You detested throwing away food with all your heart.

"Food? You call this food, huh?" He was already peeking inside the bag and scrunching his face at the sight of cheep noodles and gyoza.

"Yeah, we call it food here, rich boy." You let out a growl, mad at his attempts to make you feel humiliated even more than you already did.

He clearly didn't expect such treatment from someone whom he had taken advantage of so easily, and for several moment the man had a perplexed expression, unable to believe you were so brave despite the fact your knees were trembling. He probably thought it was a facade, but you didn't care. All this wouldn't end well for you, anyway.

"I'm not rich." He sent you a glare, and you felt like laughing in his face.

"If you don't have to steal to pay your rent, you're rich."

He grimaced but said nothing at all as you went to the kitchen, dragging the bag with you. You wondered if he felt sorry for you, but you didn't want his pity. Not from the one who did this to you. In fact, the only thing you wanted from him was leaving you alone.

Besides, you kept thinking why on Earth wasn't he dressed as a hero if he came explicitly to take you to a police station? Heroes like him loved showing off, you were sure. Why did he come like this? If he thought of repeating yesterday's night, you'd fucking stab him in the groin with a kitchen knife.

"So, how many heroes have you fucked like that?"

You felt a sudden urge to stab him right now and barely kept yourself away from a box where you kept cutlery. "I do three heroes a day and three villains at night," you growled at him, disgusted with his attitude, "what, didn't you feel it when you were raping me?"

Your reply took him aback, but he recovered quickly, "Who was raping you, silly woman? You did it to yourself!"

"Yeah, I've always dreamed of being taken by some sickening, primitive hero in a dirty alley, that's more than any girl could ask for."

Huh, apparently, cat got his tongue: Ground Zero stared at you, unable to believe your words. What, did he really think you loved being treated like this? Did he have any idea what making love was? Anything about normal, adequate relationship between a man and a woman? Maybe you weren't the most law-abiding woman in the city, but you were still a decent person, and the fact that Ground Zero expected you to manipulate him into raping you was repulsive.

"Listen, just hand me over to police already. What are you waiting for, Ground Zero?"

All the food was long put in the fridge and kitchen cabinets. Staring intensely at the man who shouldn't even be here, you crossed your arms over your chest, expecting him to drag you out of the house, but when he stepped closer to you it felt suffocating. Shit, the fear was coming back when you saw his expression darkened, his red pupils dilating when he grabbed your arm above the elbow and pulled you to him. Was he really going to do this to you?

You expected him to snap at you, but when he spoke he sounded strangely cold and collected.

"First, you will call me Bakugo from now on," he voice was dangerously low, "Second, I haven't come all the way here to bring to a fucking police station. You will come with me, do you understand?"

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I didn’t put my regular taglist here since it was only made for Marvel fics, but please let me know if your want to be on my BNHA taglist, too!

#bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugō #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bnha #yandere

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