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florenceandthemachine · 4 years

Note

i need u to talk to me about stiles and jackson and their baby girl. i need u to talk to me about how they name her claudia and how they spoil the actual everloving shit out of her and how all the single moms at the supermarket lose their entire minds when they see jackson walking around with her strapped to his chest and how stiles absolutely cannot blame them because his man is literally the world’s biggest dilf. i need u to talk to me about happy domestic stackson thank u and goodnight.

Honestly boo, I told you I had to prepare for this and sit down at a computer and I accidentally wrote a novel. But I had to, because here’s the thing.

Nothing in Stiles and Jackson’s life has ever been easy.

Stiles would start recounting the happiest moments in his life by talking about the time he almost died in high school (he remembers it fondly). Not because he’s fond of the fact that he almost died, but because while he was lying on Deatons table, bleeding out, pixie claws still dug too deeply into his chest, Jackson kissed him for the first time. Jackson was crying, and he was crying, and Jackson was begging him to stay alive, and Stiles, honestly, could have died a happy man right then and there with Jackson kissing him.

He and Jackson get married, less than a year after Stiles graduates with his masters in mythology and Jackson finishes an associates degree in Criminal Justice. Stiles gets a part time job in a local library, and Jackson starts work as his dads newest officer, and Stiles never lets him forget how good the uniform looks on him; and, he thinks as he looks over Jackson, writhing beneath him, cuffed to the headboard, it looks even better off of him.

(The wedding is a small ceremony, with the pack and Stiles’ dad there. Stiles cries the entire time. Jackson only makes fun of him a little. When the justice of the peace asks if they’ll be hyphenating their last names, Jackson snorts and takes Stiles hand and “no, absolutely not. I’ve been waiting my entire life to be a Stilinski.” Stiles cries again. Jackson just beams at him, the asshole.

[Later that night, Lydia almost passes out when a group of rouge banshees breech their territory, screeching like… well, banshees. It happens during their wedding reception, of course, because as previously stated, nothing in Stiles and Jackson’s life has ever been easy.])

They live together. They love each other. They love the pack. They still do things like patrols, once in a while, and of course it’s during a patrol that their life flips again.

They’ve only been back in town for a week after taking some time off for their wedding anniversary when they come across a woman on the side of the road. Jackson is still in full uniform and swoops in (Stiles swoons, he can admit it) to help the very dirty, very young woman, and her very small, very loud, very much a newborn, infant. The woman is crying, talking about how she didn’t mean for this to happen, she doesn’t know what to do, and the baby is crying because it’s a baby. Stiles is out of the car right behind Jackson, jacket in arms, ready to help warm the baby up.

In hindsight, he probably should have realized something was up when the woman seemed all too eager to let Stiles take the child from her. Because in less than three seconds, when Jackson and he are both focused on the baby, the woman is gone.

Whelp.

Jackson takes to caring for a child immediately. While Stiles is meeting with a social worker and loading a bassinet into the Jeep, Jackson bounces her in his arms—god, she couldn’t be more than three months old—and Stiles has to stop himself from looking, worried he might start to want something he can’t have. High school Stiles would have been shocked by the sight, but older, wiser Stiles knows that Jackson is one of the most caring, warm people on the planet, just beneath a crunchy exterior. Stiles loves him for it, so much, but watching the two of them interact makes his bones ache. The social worker assures him it will be temporary. Two weeks at the most, before they’re able to find some blood relation.

Two weeks turns into three, and three turns into five, and soon Stiles has worked their routine around a child that they just call “baby” because they have no right to name it (“and besides, Jacks, it’s not like she’ll remember any of this anyway”).

Stiles is glad, though, that he’s not the first one to approach the topic of adoption. Their idiot social worker does, when five weeks turns into three months with no luck. The topic comes up, about what a match they would be, and how well they work with the baby, and Stiles rudely cuts her off by dragging Jackson into the hall, knowing that Jackson wolfing out was the least of their concerns if the conversation carried on any further down that path.

Because at the mere mention of adoption, confident, smooth Jackson almost broke Stiles hand squeezing so hard. His eyes widen minutely, his smile freezes in place, and to the untrained eye, it might seem like Jackson was just a little surprised. Stiles knows Jackson well enough to know that his husband just plunged into a hell of his own making, through stress and fears and issues that years of therapy have eased, but not entirely. Sure enough, no sooner than the door closes is Jackson leaned against the wall, clutching Stiles close to him, breathing in his scent as Stiles soothes him.

His heart is breaking as he tells Jackson it’s okay. They don’t have to adopt her. It’s just an option. And he knows he’s a terrible liar but he isn’t lying when he said he would never ask Jackson to do anything that he isn’t comfortable with.

It takes a good twenty minutes before Jackson calms down enough to pull back from the embrace, eyes red with tears and hands shaking. But it’s with the same stubborn determination that he approaches everything with—everything he really wants—even if his voice is shaking when he meets Stiles eyes.

“I want, Stiles. I… I do. With you.”

Stiles can only smile, his heart soaring, terrified but optimistic. He clears his throat to speak, but once more, Jackson beats him to the punch.

“We could name her Claudia.”

Stiles is crying again.

Less than a week later, as Stiles is pouring over every single parenting book he could find, Jackson makes a grand entrance into their bedroom and announces that he got Claudia to go to sleep. In the same breath, he tells Stiles that he’s transferred his entire inheritance into a college fund in her name.

Stiles drops the book he’s holding and pulls Jackson to the bed with such vigor (in the name of higher education) that he’s shocked they don’t end up waking the baby.

They are both passable parents, but if you ask either of them, it’s because Claudia is such a chill fucking baby. She cries when she’s hungry and that’s about it. She naps when she wants to, she chatters when she wants to, she giggles and grabs Jackson’s sideburns when he wolfs out for her amusement. She has Jackson wrapped around her finger in no time flat, and when she takes her first steps well before her first birthday, Jackson is the asshole dad in Mommy and Me class talking about how advanced his baby is. Stiles would find it really annoying, but something about watching Jackson push a shopping cart with a baby strapped to his chest makes him forget anything but love. He’s a sap.

Getting Jackson one of those baby bjorn things was the best ideas of Stiles’ entire life, because there was nothing that Stiles loved more than watching Jackson go on his early morning run, in a tank top and shorts, nasty green smoothie in hand—and a baby strapped to his chest. Stiles wasn’t sure what he loved more—getting the early morning kiss from his husband (and puckering up to smack one on his daughters head), or the deeper, sweatier, longer kiss that Jackson woke him up with after coming back from his run, which Stiles regularly fed back into, tugging Jackson into the bed without a second thought.

Jackson loved any time he could spend with his daughter, but his favorite times by far were the random days that he had off. Call him... boring, or old fashioned, or lame, or— “Jackson, shut up. There is nothing wrong with spending time with your family. We’re your family, you idiot, we love spending time with you too.” ...well, whatever the case, he loved it. Running errands on a Saturday became a family affair.

The old ladies in the natural grocer near their home love them. Stiles take full advantage of that, kissing his husband and cooing at his baby whenever they’re nearby to score an extra free sample of free range bacon or to get the latest gossip from the retirement home. He has a few of them on Sheriff Watch, and it would honestly be sad that Stiles’ dad couldn’t eat a jelly doughnut anywhere in town without Stiles knowing about it If it weren’t so funny.

Stiles finds his natural enemies in the yoga moms, though. Or at least, he would, if Jackson wasn’t Jackson. He could honestly watch hours of these single moms trying to flirt with Jackson in the produce aisle, while Stiles is standing right next to him, only to have Jackson completely dote on their kid and completely ignore them. He only intervenes once, when a busty blond thirty something mother of three reaches forward to pinch Claudia’s cheek. Stiles smiles, reaches forward, gently pulls the woman’s wrist away, and tells her that if she ever touches his daughter again, he will break her arm.

So maybe Jackson wasn’t the only one Claudia had wrapped around her pudgy fingers.

Claudia’s first word is “Papa”, directed solely at Jackson, and Stiles... well, Stiles couldn’t even find it in himself to be jealous, because Jackson was staring at Claudia in shock and wonder, and Stiles is falling in love all over again with him. Jackson takes in a deep breath and smiles, letting her grab on to both of his fingers, his voice crushingly soft as he nods his head.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m your Papa, and you’re my baby girl. Can you say baby? Bayyy-bee?”

She giggles and smacks him in the cheek, and the moment is over, but Jackson’s smile will be burned into Stiles brain forever.

(Two months later, Jackson is trying to get a clean onesie on a very fussy Claudia when Stiles walks in, and she goes ramrod straight in his arms, reaching for Stiles, making grabby motions and yelling “Dada! Dada!” in her adorably desperate little baby voice. Jackson feels his heart swell as Stiles jaw hits the floor, but only for a moment, before he swoops in and plucks their daughter from his arms.)

Things are easy with them, and honestly, Stiles should have been suspicious—because, rule of thumb, nothing is ever easy with Stiles and Jackson. Claudia is two and things are easy. Claudia is two and she falls while toddling across the kitchen. Claudia is two and Stiles is picking her up, comforting her while Jackson kisses her booboo. Claudia is two, in Stiles arms, her tears turning into laughter. Claudia is two, and she hiccups, and suddenly Claudia has golden eyes, sharp little nails, and an alarming amount of facial hair for a two year old.

Stiles and Jackson both freeze—Stiles, because in all the parenting books he has read, nothing has prepared him for the possibility of raising a werewolf baby. Jackson freezes for a slightly more dramatic reason, his own eyes burning blue in response to his daughters gold, mouth hanging open in shock. She’s not crying anymore, at least, and Stiles can count that as a win. Hell, out of the three of them, the person who is most surprised is Claudia, who is now giggling and smacking Stiles’ cheeks, clearly enjoying the hollow sound his gaping mouth makes when hit.

Stiles immediately invites everyone over, thinking it would be easier to show everyone in person. Derek will need to do some Alpha thing to cement her place in the pack, he rationalizes, pacing the living room while texting up a storm, and Jackson... Jackson is nervous for reasons he doesn’t fully know how to articulate, bouncing Claudia on his hip. He’s come a long way since he was the angry, self obsessed sixteen year old, asking for the bite, and he knows that, but there will always be a small part of him that worries Derek is on the verge of kicking him out. He’s can feel his heart picking up as he starts to sink into his own thoughts, because what if Derek—

He doesn't get a chance to follow that rabbit hole, because a tiny, disgruntled noise is all it takes from Claudia to garner Stiles entire attention, and it isn’t even a second before Stiles is up close and personal.

“I know that look. Jackson, stop thinking. This doesn’t change anything—they already love her, and they already love you. Now they just know to count her in for future training sessions and full moon parties. Breathe, baby. Claudia and I are here to stay.”

Jackson doesn’t know when his anchor expanded to include their daughter, but honestly, it probably always did.

Erica and Boyd show up first, Erica heavily pregnant with their own kid, and Scott and Kira arrive shortly after—they’ve been looking into following their lead in the adoption game, though Stiles secretly wished any adoption they go through was no where near as eventful as theirs. Derek arrives last, unintentionally making the dramatic entrance he’s known for, and he is barely in the door for a half moment before he freezes, eyes wide, looking at the baby in Jackson’s arms.

In his surprise, he moves quickly, too quick for Jackson’s liking—Derek is an arms reach away from him and Jackson growls, his eyes flaring blue, instinctively clutching Claudia closer to his chest. Stiles swallows and grips Jackson’s hand a little tighter, gearing up for this to be A Thing, and the rest of them are equally confused, considering they are still looking at a purely human child. One that Derek has babysat for, for fucks sake. Derek, though, has a huge grin on his face, and moves much slower as he reaches to put a hand on Jackson’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.

Derek takes a knee and takes Claudia’s little pudgy hand in his own, and honestly, it would be a hilarious sight, except Derek’s eyes are burning red and Claudia wolfs out immediately, sitting shock still, mesmerized by Derek’s own eyes. It only lasts for a moment before she’s screams with joy, reaching for Derek’s sideburns, but Derek is already standing again, pulling Stiles and Jackson into a hug. The air almost crackles with electricity and even tiny, human Stiles feels something settle as the new pack bond takes form, with Derek’s arms tight around the two of them—

—the three of them, sorry, because Claudia is currently giggling like a fool from where she’s more or less suspended between the two wolves.

It was kind of perfect. Derek’s first beta raising the first born wolf of their new pack. If Stiles could pause that moment in time, he would have. Because raising a toddler was easy when Claudia was a relatively chill human baby. Now, though, it was like she had been saving up all her energy for the past two years—and now that her wolf was awake, it was time to let it loose.

Claudia became a terror. A terror they loved, of course, but a terror none the less because apparently “the terrible twos” were a very real thing, even for werewolves. She pushed every limit and every boundary, getting to the point where even Derek was wary about agreeing to babysit—Derek, the worlds biggest pushover when it came to babies. “No” became her favorite word at two—by three, it was “stop”—and when she was four, she had only one thing to say to a very sleep deprived, very emotional Stiles when he brought down the wrong pair of shoes for their weekly trip to see Papa for lunch.

“No, daddy, no! I want blue shoes, not green shoes! You never listen to me! I hate you! I hate you!”

Stiles was aware that he’s probably a little hysterical at that point—but when he hears that, something inside of him just breaks. He drops the shoes and just stands there and has to remind himself to breathe, and suddenly he’s crying, and somehow Claudia’s tantrum is over before it even begins. The first tear falls, and then ten seconds later his arms are full of his daughter, frantically scrambling to be close to him, apologizing profusely for being mean, her shouts turning into tears of her own.

Stiles is beyond comprehension at this point, but it feels like a switch has been flipped, as he and his daughter dissolve into tears while sitting on the kitchen floor.

At some point, Jackson comes home when he realizes he’s being stood up for lunch. They had more or less calmed down; though they were still on the kitchen floor, Stiles had fished his tablet off of the counter and was entertaining her with old pictures—of his mother, of Jackson in high school, of her as a baby.

He had just flicked to a picture of the three of them on Claudia’s adoption day—Stiles was beaming at the camera as his dad snapped a photo, and Jackson had a look of wonder on his face, looking down at the tiny baby swaddled in Jackson’s arms. Like he was summoned by the photo itself, Jackson comes in through the side door after parking his cruiser, takes less than three seconds to assess the situation (husband and child; on floor. scents; tears and sadness. threat level; moderate.) before shucking his utility belt and his badge and scooping them both into his arms. Claudia is crying again, but softer this time, still worn out from her earlier tantrum, apologizing in between hiccups for being so mean, but nothing could prepare either of them for the tumble of words that leaves her lips as she buries her face into Jackson’s shoulder.

“You and Daddy are still gonna keep me, right?”

Jackson is heartbroken, but... not surprised. He had gone through the same thing, more times than he can count, growing up. His parents had always brushed it off with platitudes—don’t be silly, Jackson, you’re overreacting Jackson. He finally had the chance to right some of their wrongs, the seriousness in his voice reflecting

“You got mad, and that happens sometimes. Daddy and I can get mad sometimes too. But we never stay mad at one another, and we always apologize, right sweetpea?”

He waits for Claudia to nod before he continues, aware that Stiles is staring at him too.

“Well, you already apologized to Daddy and I. You apologized because you realize you made a mistake, and it’s okay to make mistakes. You apologize because you love us, and we love you too. We love you, Claudia. And we are never, ever going to let you go.”

(Stiles and Claudia fall asleep in Jackson’s arms, and Jackson takes a selfie, sending it to the sheriff with an apology for missing his afternoon shift. He waits until the Sheriff responds, with a laughing emoji of all things [who taught him how to do that?!], before uploading it to their digital album too.)

When Claudia turns five, she begs for a ladybug party at the Hale House with all her “woofpack”. Honestly, Stiles was just thankful that Derek was an absolute pushover for all of the kids in the pack—between all of their original betas, there were six little rats running around at any given time, four of which were human, and Derek was a sucker for all of them.

(Boyd and Erica’s son had popped his fangs five days earlier. Claudia is ecstatic to have a new member of her woofpack. Jackson spends a lot of time playing with the baby chubby cheeks. Stiles grins and gives them a very brief warning about the terrible twos, before calling this karmic payback for the time Erica clocked him with a piece of his own Jeep, because he will never let that go.)

Stiles was just happy that it meant he didn’t have to clean up after the party, even if he did spend the entire night beforehand icing about a million ladybug cupcakes.

“It was three dozen, Stiles, and you’re the one who didn’t want to pay a baker to make them.”

“Aw, thanks babe, your devotion and respect for me really knows no bounds.”

Jackson smirks at him and Stiles smooshes a cupcake against his nose, throwing his head back in laughter as Jackson pulls back, looking incredibly offended. They’re on the second story balcony overlooking the yard, and Stiles is only half paying attention to Jackson’s protests as he hears shrieks of joy coming from the grass below. Their daughter is running through the field with a red and black cape flying behind her, eyes gold with mirth as she avoids Erica’s outstretched hand in what appears to be a very fair game of tag.

He lets his free hand sneak into Jackson’s, like it was some kind of secret—Jackson, who has no chill, pulls him close, arms going around him from behind. Stiles laughs again as he turns to his husband, basking in the warmth that pools in his chest with another happy shriek sounds from his family below.

“Hey Jacks?”

“Yeah baby?”

Nothing in Stiles and Jackson’s life has ever been easy.

“… I want another one.”

And neither of them would change a damn thing.

#stackson #stiles stilinski #jackson whittemore #teen wolf #kidfic #ask #jacksonstilinskis #lmao you wanted something fluffy and domestic #how about whatever this is instead?#lmao sorry #kill me fr #flospeaks #mutually assured devotion

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spider-bih · 4 years

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Prank Letters [Peter Parker]

Image

Lost Love Letters P.1

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Mentions of potentially triggering topics (i.e death, self-destructive habits),

Masterlist,

Eerily familiar handwriting on random envelopes had been haunting you the past few weeks. At first it seemed like harmless fun- like one of your old friends messing with you before you had to move away. Maybe it was their weird way of saying goodbye and wishing you well. You didn’t want to leave, but you had to, your parents had no other choice. The world revolved around money and they had to follow it to live comfortably. You were just glad that you weren’t overly attached to much in this town. Or perhaps a certain falling out with some people made you yearn for escape, who could tell.

The notes were nice at first, despite how you swore the handwriting was familiar. They were sweet, some reminders, some nice thoughts. “Treat yourself to something today.” “It’s going to be sunny and warm!” “A rainy day ahead, remember your umbrella!” “Yellow is your color today.”

You didn’t expect them to follow you to your new home, an apartment in New York. They became aggressive and were scattered in places no one should be able to leave notes. “CAN YOU READ THESE?”, was found in your brand new notebook for your upcoming school year. “ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?”, in your fresh laundry. “PLEASE. I NEED A RESPONSE.”, in your locker. Today, inside your new box of Pop-Tarts, “PLEASE, YOU HAVE TO SAV_ ___”, the writing was so aggressive, the rest was illegible. It also looked smeared by something, you couldn’t pinpoint what. It was terrifying you, but anytime you tried to show someone, like your parents, it would disappear. You would lose it and even when you tried to explain, they didn’t believe you. How could they? How would someone get a note into an unopened box of Pop-Tarts? In your fresh laundry without getting wet? In a brand new notebook? It made no sense whatsoever. Yet it was chilling you to the bone.

Who was this person? What did they want from you? Was this funny to them? Terrifying some poor girl- making her look over her shoulder at every corner and question everyone she saw? You just wanted a smooth move, a new start at a new school. It was Junior Year, just one more year of hell after that and you were free! You could get started on learning what pertained to your future career and nothing else! That’s all you wanted, but here you were, scared out of your mind on the very first day of school. Lovely.

Your appetite was lost, no pop-tarts this morning- your body didn’t agree with you though. Especially when you decided lunch wasn’t an option either. You were scared to find another note in your mashed potatoes or some other odd place. You couldn’t even tell if the pain in your stomach was nerves, or hunger- or even both. You just let it be, hoping that ignoring it would make your first day smoother.

It didn’t.

You were stuck feeling nervous and just aching to be home. You were relieved once you were on that train- relieved and a little sad. You hoped you’d maybe make some friends or be interested in your new subjects, but you could barely make it through basics. You were too nervous and too tired to care about anything. It sucked- but maybe a good nap would help. A nap and maybe a snack. Your stomach really hurt- had you really gone all day without a bite to eat? Damn- these notes were really taking a toll, so much so you even felt queasy. It was not a good feeling, especially on the moving train. It was packed and you were stuck standing, holding onto one of the poles to stay balanced. Suddenly your bookbag weighed a ton and your legs felt like jelly, before you could register anything else, you were falling, and then you were out.

“Hey... can- -ou -ear -e? -ey! You- -otta -up! Oh- -ease, -ey! Up!”

Someones voice was going in and out of your head, calling out to you and begging you to come to. Your stomach still really hurt (and for some reason your head throbbed too?) and you felt faint. It felt like you were propped up against something- something hard and uncomfortable. Someone was grasping your shoulders and when you opened your eyes, dark brown ones were staring back at you. They belonged to some boy. He had a mess of short curls, they looked like he ran his hands through them like crazy. His face was panicked and a little flushed. You noticed little freckles littered across his nose and cheeks, very faint, but still a little noticeable. He was kinda- wait, why was he so close? What-

“You’re awake! Oh thank god, I thought I’d have to call an ambulance! Are you okay?”, he asked you, words coming out in a jumbled rush.

“What happened? Where am I?”, you asked, seeing that you were no longer in the train, but at a stop.

“You fainted- your head kinda hit mine but that’s not important. I had to take you off the train- this is my stop, but I don’t know if it’s yours, I’ll pay for you to get back on if this isn’t-”

“What? I fainted? Oh god- I hit you? I’m so so so-”

He cut you off with a firm shake of his head, “No, don’t stress it! It’s fine, I’m fine, are you though? You look a little sick.”

“Uh- I think I’m good now. I should be- what stop are we at?”

“We’re on the one at 9th Street. Are you sure? You look flushed- kinda like you haven’t eaten a bite all day?”

That made you raise an eyebrow, “How could you get that just from my face?”

The boy shrugs, “I’ve forgotten to eat once or twice, I know the look. I have half a bag of gummy worms in my bag- unless that sounds super weird since I’m a stranger. I swear I just bought them this morning. I can show you the receipt unless that’s still weird- I just really don’t want you passing out-”

You cut him off with a casual wave of your hand, “Nah, I think I have a granola bar in my bag somewhere, probably crushed but still edible. I’ll take you up on that offer another day. So you said 9th Street right? Lucky me, that’s my stop.”

He looked surprised, “Really? It’s mine too! You sure you don’t want some gummy worms? A granola bar isn’t too filling..”

“Yeah but gummy worms won’t give me energy will they?”

He shrugs, “Maybe, maybe not. Still filling. Uh.. I’m Peter, by the way. Peter Parker.”

You smile a little, “I’m [Y/n]. [Y/n] [L/n].”

So began a nice conversation as he guided you to the nearest café for actual food. The two of you talked over some warm coffee and a doughnut or two. Perfect for the slow-dropping temperature. You got to know he went to Midtown, that one school you heard was for the academically gifted (in science mostly). He lived with his Aunt and seemed to love Star Wars. You told him of how you just moved here and started your first day, how you were getting used to taking the subways and finding your way around.

When today began, you had no idea you’d meet a friend so fast- that you’d click so easy. It was nice and it was comforting to know the entire day wasn’t wasted. Your mind was free from worry, the anxiety over finding another letter was long gone as you walked home-

Only to return once you saw a white envelope lying on your bed. It was blank, no return address like always, but oddly no writing at all. With a hard swallow, you crept towards it and opened it up. The writing was still uncomfortably familiar, but it was neater. Calmer.

“I’m sure by now you’ve met him already. I remember that day like it just happened hours ago. It was wonderful. He’s so nice isn’t he? Easy going too? I miss it.

Listen, you’re not going to believe me at first. I know it, but you need to try.

My name is [Y/n] [L/n]. I’m you at twenty-seven and counting. I know those other letters must have rattled you and I know it seems crazy, but I need you to listen. I need you to save him. I need you to save Peter Parker, or at the least, I need you to be able to let him go without a single regret.

You’re going to love him. You’re going to be scared of it, nervous to ruin what’s been established. You shouldn’t be. I regret never telling him. I regret losing him how I did. I never stopped loving him, I want him back. I want to change this future of mine please.

You have until the summer before Freshman year of college starts. Please, tell him. Don’t let him go.

He dies before you get the words out.

You’ll regret it. Every waking moment of your life, you will regret it.

I’m begging you.”

Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, if I still can’t next time, I’ll have to remove it :c

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Part 2

#peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker reader insert #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter x you #peter x reader #peter reader insert #peter fic #peter fanfic

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nevstcries · 6 years

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VINE (R.I.P) Ask Box Meme!

“Are those helium balloons?”

“Road work ahead? Yeah, i sure hope it does!”

“This song makes me wanna suck a dick.”

“Lets McFreaking lose it!”

“Hi, my name is Failure and you’re watching my life crumble into pieces.”

“I haven’t done my laundry in months...”

“I would like a piece of that ass”

“I dont have enough money for chicken nuggets...”

“If we’re gonna date, you’re gonna have to dress like a pilgrim, talk like a pilgrim and you’re gonna have to fuck like a pilgrim.”

“Your bracelet is so cute!”

“You know what, i think we’re gonna be friends, special friends.”

“My motto in life is if you doodoo on yourself, and i live by that..”

“Yo, whats the scoop?”

“Penis!”

“I can’t swim.”

“Why were you watching that?”

“Please, don’t tell mom!”

“I spilt lipstick in your Valentino bag...”

“My name is *name* and i got a basketball game tomorrow!”

“Fuck, you just ashed in my interior chamber!”

“Fuck, is your retina okay?”

“Hey, do you think you can push the elevator button for me?”

“Fucking weirdo..”

“Yo, this shit is fluffin’ up!”

“Oh, that’s interesting! Whats also interesting is that— That i don’t give a shit.”

“You are my dad.”

“I thought you were bae.. Turns out you’re just fam...”

“They ask you how you are and you just have to say that you are fine when you’re not really fine.”

“Why don’t we just relax, turn on the radio, would you like AM or FM?”

“What the fuck, *name*?”

“Fuck that, i wanna slap your little ass!”

“Do you believe in bigfoot?”

“Whats up, bitch?”

“Do you ever, like... Wake up and do something like what the fuck is going on?”

“Shower time.”

“I’m high as fuck.”

“My dick is out right now.”

“That’s the kind of shit that really butters my eggroll.”

“Hey, i’m lesbian.”

“Two bros, chilling in the hot tub five feet apart cause they’re not gay.”

“Hello?”

“Excuse my potty mouth, shut the fuck up!”

“Way to go, *name*!”

“You can’t sit with us.”

“Actually, *name*, I can’t sit anywhere, i have hemorrhoids.”

“I dont have a problem or anything..”

“Oh damn...”

“If you eat enough of those, it will probably kill you.”

“Well, that’s a little rude.”

“Haha, i do that.”

“Hey, bro, what do you want to eat?”

“Do you like being in the front seat?”

“What the fuck is up, *name*, no, what did you say dude, what the fuck, dude, step the fuck up, *name*!”

“On all levels except physical, i am a wolf.”

*Barks*

“I am the sand guardian, the guardian of the sand!”

“Poseidon quivers before him!”

“Fuck off!”

“I’m sensitive, *name*!”

“Oh, by the way, i talk in my sleep.”

“*Name*, stop, you’re gonna get us in trouble, stop!”

“So no head?”

“I wish that i could grow a beard over my entire body, the ultimate badass, get the chicks...”

“This is the worst day of my life.”

“I smell like beef...”

“Hello, darkness my old friend..”

“A potato flew around my room.”

“Its summer! I got my hat on backwards and its time to fucking party!”

“I need a nap!”

“I’ll take a nap here..”

“I brought you myrrh... Myrrhdur!”

“This smells delish!”

“This smells like an armpit...”

“Fuck your chicken strips!”

“I care about you, here are some pine cones on a stick, yeah its— they’re lovely..”

“Ah, fuck, i can’t believe you’ve done this..”

“Well, when life gives you lemons!”

“And they were roommates!”

“I’m a giraffe!”

“Man, i wish i had a doughnut...”

“Hey, i think you’re really cool, i like you a lot, maybe we can hang out or something.”

“How do you know what’s good for me?”

“That’s my opinion!”

“Calm down, we don’t want to panic at the disco...”

“So i’m sitting there, barbecue sause on my titties..”

“I got an a-bor-tion.”

“Yo, man, you wanna see a picture of my cock?”

“That’s a chicken, mother fucker.”

“Hello, i’m squidward.”

“Look at all those chickens.”

“I love you, bitch, i ain’t never gonna stop lovin’ you, bitch.”

“You was my bae! My cinnamon apple!”

“Go back to sleep... And starve.”

“I could have dropped my croissant.”

“*Name*, watch the light, dude!”

“I put a whole bag of jelly beans up my ass.”

“I’m a bad bitch, you can’t kill me!”

“My dick fell off!”

“I just put a hole in the floor...”

“Welcome to bible study, we’re all children of Jesus!”

“That was legitness!”

“Is that a weed? I’m calling the police!”

“This bitch’s empty, yeet!”

“That’s what good pussy sounds like.”

“Whoever threw that paper, your mom’s a hoe!”

“I’m washing me and my clothes!”

“Bitch, i hope the fuck you do cause you’ll be a dead son of a bitch!”

#rp meme #rp games #rp game #rp ask meme #rp ask box meme #😈 ––– 「 File; Other ≠ ᵂᵃᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ᵃ ᵍᵃᵐᵉˀ 」

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trashikino · 7 years

Text

oh look its more vague fantasy au

There was a reason for the bags under her eyes.

There wasn’t much chance of rising with the sun in a town perpetually surrounded by fog, but somehow, some way, Maki found it in herself to be out of bed each morning by six. Hanayo was less inclined to the early hours, and most days Maki would end up sneaking out of bed and leaving a pillow for Hanayo to hold instead. Most of the time, she didn’t notice.

And some days she did. Hanayo turned in the bed, clutching at the blanket Maki left behind with both hands. “Stay heerrreee…….” She groaned, still half-sleeping, dazed.

“I might come back in before you’re up, if I get done fast enough.” Maki replied, off-handedly. “Stay warm for now, okay?”

Hanayo didn’t give a terribly committed response, but gave something approximating a ‘yes’, and then immediately rolled over in bed again to soak up the warm space Maki left.

She cracked a smile and got dressed. Breakfast would be for after the patrols, and for good reason: Maki had often stumbled across rather unappetizing things on her morning walks. The door clicked shut behind her with a grating noise from the hinges. Should probably oil them –but that could wait till later.

When she took her first step out onto the cobblestoned streets, a group of birds took off from a shrub within her line of sight – Maki wandered up to it, wanting to know what it was that they’d been pecking at.

Probably nothing good. Maki crept up slowly, with the weary curiosity of a kicked cat.

Lying in the bush was a raccoon, tensed with death. Its eyes were dried and frozen open, squinting as its face contorted into a snarl. It didn’t take a very thorough investigation to see what was off about the creature: it had five sets of eyes, stacked beside each other like those of an arachnid’s. She didn’t want to touch it with a ten foot pole, but, of course, if she left it out something might eat it on the pathway and make an even uglier mess to deal with later.

Maki picked it up, leery, and walked to the edge of the property before throwing it to the wilds, where it would be eaten by a likely equally freakish piece of nature.

“Yeah,” She grumbled, stuffing her hands in her pockets and wishing she could clean them sooner. “Another normal morning in Cybele…” Maki kept looking, moving anything with the potential to be a public disturbance into the forest where it belonged, even if she had to chase it out there with a stick.

One thing she’d noticed lately, which didn’t quite add up, was the noted lack of oddities surrounding the new people’s house. It didn’t sit right; they hadn’t been stopped from creeping onto even the properties of their most dangerous wards. What exactly could be driving them off?

Did she want to know?

She guessed, whatever might be causing it, it wouldn’t exactly be bad for the town to have some normalcy for a change. Even if that normalcy was afforded to them by some decidedly abnormal citizens.

Speaking of whom – Honoka was approaching. She walked up to Maki with a grin and offered up a basket. “Hey! I didn’t know we lived so close to your house, Mrs. Nishikino. Want some of my pastries? I tried to surprise Umi with them, but she says bread will make her fat, so I’ve got a buncha leftovers…..”

Maki looked at the basket critically, but the snacks really did seem innocent – crumbly biscuits and doughy pastries glazed with some sort of jam. Actually, they looked incredibly good. She figured, as long as they were offered, she should take one, right? “Thank you, Honoka.” Maki grabbed one of the glazed ones. “You know, I don’t mind being called Maki.” She said, in a conversational tone.

“You don’t?” Honoka echoed. “I thought you were the mayor?”

“Only technically,” She said bluntly, almost quickly. “Just because I make important decisions doesn’t mean I’m actually more important than anyone else living here. They just all have piss-poor organizational skills, is all.”

Honoka snorted. “Maybe Umi can help you out, then. She likes to schedule things.”

Maki hummed her agreement and tried a bite of the pastry. She blinked at the taste. “….Wow, this is really good. No wonder Umi turned you down, then – I can see a lot of people eating too many of these.”

“Really?” She seemed happy for a second but then quickly put out. “Wait….Bread really does make you fat?!”

“Most food does, in excess….” Maki replied, raising a critical eyebrow. “It’s not like it’s only bread, you know.” There was a teasing swing to her voice.

Honoka pouted anyways. “Uh, I guess I shouldn’t make so many, then. They’ll just go stale. Do you think I should start giving these out at the church, then?”

“I think a lot of people would really appreciate that. That’s….surprisingly generous. Are you sure you don’t want something?” Maki just didn’t….get it. Sure, Honoka might’ve been the pastor’s wife and all, but wasn’t there some sort of limit to this kind of thing? Honoka couldn’t really have wholly innocent intentions, because that’d be ridiculous. The Sonodas must be angling for something. Or, she guessed, she might be overly suspicious. She’d be the first to admit: it’d been awhile since Maki met anyone following a church.

With a shrug and a little flourish of the basket, Honoka shook her head. “Not in that way…..But I guess, a little, yeah. To be completely honest…….I’ve never gotten to live like this.” Honoka said it with a somehow somber note to her voice, and she looked away from Maki, at the snow.

“Neighbors, and baking, and being officially married…..” She kicked at the snow pile. “It’s nice.”

“Oh, right….” Maki said, and things began to click. How exactly did she forget the kind of place she was running? Honoka and Umi probably saw the place as a sort of second chance – they must have done something wherever they lived last. “Well, I think you’ll get along just fine with the people around here, but try not to be too loud or scare everyone. Living so close to the woods like this, everyone’s a little jumpy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. It was nice talking with you, Maki.” Honoka cracked a smile at that, and waved as if to leave before suddenly froze, and turned around again. Maki was still waiting patiently, although she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little amused by the 180 and sudden urgency Honoka had. “Wait, wait, wait!” She fished around in her basket and pulled out two pastries, using her cloth to wrap them up.

Honoka offered them up quickly. “You should tell Hanayo I said hi! I figure she’s kind of the nervous type, and I don’t exactly know which pastry she’d like the most…..but I’d like to be friends, if she’s up for it. Consider it a moving in gift, haha.”

Maki accepted the bundle with a nod. “Of course. I think she’ll love them both.”

She smiled a bit at that, more tentative than the one she’d greeted Maki with. “Awesome. Thank you again, Maki.”

“Any time.”

Honoka strolled off after that, and Maki continued on her way, really only paying faint attention to her search for oddities, focused instead on the bundle Honoka had given her. It really did reek of trying too hard, but wasn’t that a little unfair to Honoka? If Maki’s hunch was right, and she was the reason she and her wife moved, then it was definitely better that she applied herself this way and not in the other direction.

It could be a good thing for Hanayo to get out more, too. Nothing against the other residents, but most of them weren’t the most social. Honoka might help Hanayo to get some much-needed stimulation.

There didn’t seem to be anything else amiss in town; or at least, there didn’t seem to be any other dead critters, so Maki finished her patrol and headed back into the comforts of her own house, past the squeaky hinged door and her worn out sofa chair. She set the pastries on the kitchen table and took her shoes off before going into the bedroom, where Hanayo was still dozing off. It was probably around six-fifty by now, if Honoka’s chat hadn’t thrown Maki too far off schedule.

“Good morning, sleepy,” Maki greeted, falling into bed beside her. She gave Hanayo a little nudge, but her hands were still cold, so she squirmed away from it. “Enjoy your extra time?”

“Nnooo…..we have longer,” She said, insistently, even though she wiggled under Maki’s cold fingers and seemed very close to sitting up. “Take a nap with me….”

Maki rolled her eyes, and put her cold hands on Hanayo’s cheeks until she struggled enough that she had to sit up. Hanayo sulked. “Everyone has to get up sometime,” Maki said in her own defense, in an attempt to laugh off the pouting. “Besides, I actually have a treat for you this morning. Do you remember the new residents?”

“Honoka and Umi, right?” Hanayo asked, curiosity leading her to forget her sulking. She rubbed the last of the sleep out of her eyes and stood up, so Maki crawled off the bed with her and nodded.

“Honoka likes to bake, and she ran into me this morning and asked me to take you some as a sort of moving-in gift.” She explained. They walked through the doorway together into the kitchen, and Hanayo managed to zero in on the bundle of baked goods.

Maki settled into the table across from her and gave a nod that indicated it was fine to unwrap them. Hanayo did as much, and took a quick whiff. “Wow, these are really fresh. Remember that time you tried to make me something like these?”

“I didn’t mess up the doughnuts that badly…” She defends, even as Hanayo giggled at her folly (those doughnuts were burned to a crisp).

“So, which one do you want?” Hanayo asked once she’d had her fun. “I kind of want the strawberry glaze….”

Maki brushed that off, waving her hand. “I actually already ate one on my walk. I left those two for you, because Honoka said she wanted you to pick your favorite.”

It didn’t take long after that for Hanayo to sink into the one she’d been looking at. “I’ll have to say thank you next time I see her, this is good.” She leaned up against the counter, sticking an arm out to hold her up. “Are you doing anything today?”

“I promised Umi that I would help her clear out the chapel so she could start services tomorrow.” While she spoke, Maki walked back into her room to get a thicker jacket – something that could get a little dirtier, and perhaps provide a little more padding. She settled on a leather duster that she’d gotten from the previous mayor.

Hanayo noticed her choice of outerwear. “Is it going to be very cold inside?”

Maki shrugged. “It’s probably around the same temperature as outside. I’m just trying to make sure I’m not too easy to grab onto. I’ll probably tie my hair up, too. Don’t want anything getting snagged.” She grabbed a wooden shaft of her crossbow from the closet as well, and the weight of it was familiar and light in her hands. Hanayo watched her pick up the bag with her bolts in it. “This is just a precaution. I think it’s been boarded up just fine. Umi looks like she can fend for herself, too.”

Hanayo swallowed, and set her food down with an uncertain frown. “… if you’re sure it’s safe…” She started, timidly. “Do you want me to he-“

“I’ll be fine.” Maki cut her off. Hanayo seemed unconvinced, so Maki softened her tone and expression, and walked up to her, taking her by the hands and rubbing soothing circles in her skin.

“Really.” She said, pressing her head against Hanayo’s. “We have nothing to worry about.”

She gave Maki a tight grin. “You’re so dashing, Maki. Is this what it’s like to send your husband off to the town guard?” She teased, obviously trying to dispel the near-awkward tenderness of the moment, which Maki appreciated as well.

“That’s wife, to you.” She replied with a smirk, and held out a hand that Hanayo took gently, so that Maki could place a chaste kiss on the back of her palm. “And I suppose the feeling must be the same in some ways, but I’ve got something no guard has ever had – the best wife in the world to come home to.”

Hanayo blushed so brightly, Maki might’ve been able to take her around and use her as a flashlight. But she didn’t, because that was just a stupid metaphor she had to make to distract herself from the embarrassment of her own tacky flirtatiousness. Instead she laughed and gave her another kiss on the cheek. “Really, though, corniness aside – I’ll be home around seven. It shouldn’t take as long to clear out with two people.”

“Alright.” With a quick smile, and little sway, Hanayo returned the cheek-kiss. “Come get me if you need a third pair of hands, though, okay? I don’t want you to think I’m not willing to help…..”

“I know you are. I just want you to have a relaxed day, is all.” Maki replied. Her hand fell to her belt, with a knife securely in its sheath stuck to the loop on the right. She really didn’t want Hanayo to have to deal with a potential abandoned building full of things so soon before that night. Any other time and Maki might have accepted, because she knew her back would be killing her if the rubble in the church was in any way comparable to what they’d found in the community center (which had seen so little use since that Maki sorely regretted the time and effort spent cleaning it out, but that was neither here nor there).

Goodbyes said and done with, Maki strolled out the door and met up with Umi in front of the building she’d given her technical ownership of yesterday: the church.

The spire made it, effectively, the tallest building in town, mostly because everything else was one story and rather short and homey. It was made of more wood than stone, but the foundations and the archway in the front at least held to the tradition. The stained glass windows were for the most part broken, but Maki wasn’t sure what exactly Umi could do about that. Mostly she figured it would involve putting a lot of rainbow glass in a trash can somewhere.

Umi was waiting for her in front of the building, giving some of the dead plants a leery look. She had a rough looking shirt, long sleeves rolled up. Maki could see faded white lines across her bared arms, some scars wide and short, others long and thin, and still others all sorts of odd crescent shapes or jagged cuts. One or two looked like they might have been solid circles.

Whatever the cause, Umi appeared unphased by Maki’s appearance, or Maki’s evaluation of her own appearance. “Hello, Mrs. Nishikino. I’m sorry to have requisitioned so much of your time today.”

“Maki is fine. And I don’t mind the work.” She said, with a final glance at the plants Umi was looking at, some long-crushed bushes with a few decayed or wilted flowers left on them.

She pulled the keys from her pocket, and unlocked the two locks on the door before tossing the ring to Umi, who caught it. “Before I open this, you should know there might be weird…wildlife, in here. I don’t think a building like this could go uninhabited for too long.”

Umi nodded, a quick, upward movement of her head. “I’m not completely unprepared,” And as she said it adjusted her bow, hands drawn to the serving on the string that pressed against her chest. “If a bow is inadequate, I can get Honoka to fetch my sword.”

Maki stared a little longer, hesitant. “…No, a bow should do it. I somehow get the feeling you’re a good shot.”

That got a wry look and a bit of a smile from her. “I can promise you that I am the best shot you have ever met.”

“And so modest, too.” Maki said, more in an attempt to relieve the tension than actually be sarcastic. She thought she heard Umi snort before she cracked open the door.

The inside of the church was a dusty, reeking mess, just like Maki had expected, and the floor on the sides was littered with broken glass. The pews, some overturned and others shoved into a corner to create a den, seemed to be the biggest mess in the room. Maki was pretty sure she saw something rustling inside, too.

The altar stayed in place though, even if the fountains had been bashed to shit and there wasn’t a single book, religious or otherwise, left on the premises. Bits of the rafters had also fallen or collected residents over the years.

Some of which felt the need to come out when the door opened. Already, Maki spied a large bird of prey aiming to dive from the ceiling, talons outstretched and cawing in a shrill note while something inky spewed from the feathers.

Before Maki could point her crossbow, it thumped to the ground with a squeak, arrow imbedded into the chest and exiting between the wings and shoulder blades.

“Strange bird,” Umi said, and seemed content to leave it there before she spared another look out the open door. “Strange town, too, though.”

“You said it, not me.” Maki replied with a shrug. “Where do you want to start?”

Umi surveyed the building. “I suppose moving the pews into place would make sense….though I don’t like the looks of that corner.”

The little shelter of pews rattles as if in corroboration of the mistrust Umi has placed in it. Um frowns, tightly. “…Maki, how many people did you say lived here?”

“Maybe twenty. It’s an exile town in the middle of nowhere.” She rolled her shoulders, wondering what could be going on in Umi’s head to ask.

Whatever it is, Maki’s statement solidified it. “Okay. I don’t think we need this many pews, since four or six will be enough. Do you think anything will be attracted by burning?”

Maki shook her head and Umi ambled back off to the door. She came back in with Honoka at her side within only a minute. Maki didn’t want to know, and didn’t ask, how she had gotten to the church so quickly.

“Hello again, Maki!” Honoka said cheerily, as bright eyed and chipper as she’d been that morning. “Umi says you need help with some of the pests.”

“Knowing we aren’t about to be set upon by maybe venomous forest vermin would be a comfort, yeah.”

Honoka nodded. “I can take care of it. Just stand farther away.” She said, then seemed a touch embarrassed. “Um, please, that is.” Maki watched Umi hold up one of her arrows out of the corner of her eye, but her bow was still put away. Honoka shifted on her feet.

Well, fine by her. Maki was actually a little interested in how this was all going to factor in. Honoka approached the pile of wooden benches, and was met with considerable hissing and snapping.

Just as one overly bold, black-bear like creature leaned forth from the pit to snarl in her face, Honoka muttered something and it went up in flames; the ground split and lava pulsed from the crevice, swallowing the floor, the beasts, and the pews whole, nearly setting the walls on fire too.

Honoka stood in front of it with a hand up, eyes pupil-less and glowing.

The flaming benches sank into the lava pit and she dropped her hand, floor returning to normal.

There was one last flare of energy, an orange light that peaked and blew back up against Honoka’s hand, but she snuffed it out and turned to face the others in the room, palm dripping with magma and eyes still unnerving and without irises or pupils.

“I hope the rest of the clean up goes smoothly.” Honoka shuffled past them then, and Umi, without thought for consequence, apparently, grabbed Honoka by the arm and pulled her into a hug, mumbling something quieter than Maki could hear to her that made Honoka laugh and shake her head into Umi’s shoulder. “Okay, Umi. I’ll visit with Rin in the meantime.”

Just like that, and she was gone. Umi wiped some blood off on her pants.

Maki doesn’t want to seem too curious, but the silence is burning a hole in the room despite Umi’s obvious good mood, so Maki decided she wasn’t going to be the one to break it and busied herself dragging the remaining pews into place on the left side while Umi handled the right. For a while, the shuffling and occasional scrape of wooden legs on the floor was all they heard; eventually Umi caved and spoke.

“Typically a show like that would lead to questions. I can see now why Honoka chose this town to live in.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m brimming with them. But I’d like to extend you a courtesy I hope for others to give my wife and I.” Maki grunted and pulled the last pew into place, then went to help Umi, who had finished her side and began sweeping up the broken glass. Her meaning was pretty clear, though.

Umi hummed and nodded, sweeping up another pile and moving to create a new one some ways down the aisle. “True. I guess I can tell you this much – Honoka is an immortal. Nothing of this earth can kill her, and, similarly, nothing can match her in years.”

“And you are….?” Maki trailed off.

“She keeps me alive at her leisure. I don’t age because of it, and have to move regularly.” Umi explained, offhandedly. It almost sounded like she’d done it before, which Maki didn’t doubt now that she knew how high the probability of Umi being older than she appeared was.

They stood in a lull for a moment, until eventually Umi set the broom aside and fixed Maki with a critical look. “Honoka tells me you are completely human. How did you get around to being in charge of a city full of the unnatural and profane?”

“The same way you get around to having any job, I guess. I knew people. I know my wife, and many of the people who had left my village…..At some point, I had to follow. It’s selfish, mostly. I shouldn’t be here, but if I’m not, who will keep Hanayo company? All our friends are dead.” Maki leans against a wall situated a little further from the broken windows.

“My condolences, then.” Umi seemed uncomfortable. “I –“ She stopped, then took a breath. “Suffice to say I understand. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

Maki shrugged. “I finished two of them off myself.”

It was such a cavalier way to describe it: it felt almost surreal to Maki to be having this conversation with anyone. She hadn’t even told Hanayo, but that’s only because it would defeat the purpose of having done it. They were going to die, or, failing that, desired to. Hanayo always thought they got away. Maki made sure that was how it looked.

“I don’t think I deserve to feel bad about it, honestly.”

The church wasn’t even nearing cleanliness, but Umi gave Maki a kind look anyways, and put her hand on her shoulder. “You shouldn’t feel like you have to settle this with me. It’s your own conscious that needs settling. I’d recommend some sleep, for now. Honoka can help with what is left.”

“I can still work-“ Maki protested, but was soon cut short. What was left of the windows was blown out, the glass fell outside the church, and the broken stone fountains were replaced with living dirt, formed into more elaborate wells. The church seemed to be rebuilding on it’s own. Whatever that energy was coming from, it was probably the reason nothing had dared set foot on the Sonoda property.

“We can do fine.” Umi gave her a more solid push, towards the door. And gestured around the church “If you need me….either of us, really, just let us know. I’ll be here tomorrow, and home tonight. You’re young,” She said that bit with a faint smile, obviously poking a bit of fun at herself, and shook her head. “You should say hello to your wife before she goes to bed.”

Maki felt almost disgraced, but she had to admit, it was probably a good thing she was going home early. Arriving at the wrong time would’ve been a nuisance, but arriving home after dark could have been fatal.

She got home just shy of being able to greet Hanayo, who’d already done her best to begin fortifying herself for the night, and had closed their bedroom door. Maki called for her anyways. “I’m home early. Umi is a surprisingly efficient worker.”

“Really? That doesn’t surprise me.” She replied from the bedroom, voice muffled. Maki leaned up against the door, not doubting Hanayo was doing the same, so she could hear better. “She looked very steadfast when I met her. I don’t think she’s the distracted type.”

“True enough. I guess she doesn’t need to be afraid of anything, considering Honoka’s around and her own skill with the bow….” Maki pretended to be interested, but by that point, she was more concerned for Hanayo than their conversation. Even her curiosity couldn’t sway her mind. “Hanayo, are you doing alright?”

“So far, yes.” She said quietly. “Are you going to be comfortable? I put the blankets out in the living room for you…….”

“I should be good. Thank you,” Maki said, even though she knew she was going to have to move the blankets off the chair if she was going to keep herself from falling asleep or, gods forbid, letting down her guard.

She crouched on the sofa, and, though it pained her, loaded the crossbow. The tip of her bolt, near-rusted with old blood, shone through the clean spots brilliantly, the purity of its metal apparent even when it was being used for impure reasons. She kept it fixed on the door. “Still good?”

“Y-yeah. I’m good at this by now…………”

“Of course you are,” Maki said, all soothing and a gentle voice. “Just go to sleep and it will be tomorrow before you know it.”

Hanayo whimpered some kind of response and went silent behind the door; until it is quiet enough for Maki to hear the cracking and kicking she was subject to on the other side. She tried to distract herself from it, and her current position, but her mind continued to come back.

Her finger was stiff on the trigger, and Maki worried if she sat any more tense she would pull it on accident. The beams of the crossbow, at the very least, weren’t affected so much by the sweat gathering in her palms.

Relax, she told herself.

She did this every month. For years. This time would not be different. Never, ever, be different. Things were so much better now than then –

Maki grimaced at the reminder of ‘then’. Perhaps Umi was right. She was thinking too much about what she could say to explain herself to others, but herself, gods, she….she……….

“It hurts, Maki.” She pulled on the crossbow, hand fumbling across the tip. It left taint-red marks on the varnished wood, and she stared up with eyes that bled through with whiteness, the pale fog of a hundred slowly spinning spiderwebs obstructing her sight.

Her hand slipped, Maki recoiled with a hand over her mouth; she was bleeding too fast and too much and there was a piece missing from her leg, from her side, Maki thought she could see the foot of the missing left leg buried half under a rug in a mound of gore and fur and table splinters –

“Please………….”

Maki pulled the trigger, on reflex, and an arrow embedded itself in the wooden door. Hanayo screamed. “Sorry!” Maki called, shaken. She got on unsteady legs and wrenched the silver tipped arrow back out of the door, eyeing the similar dents and punctures littering its surface.

Her breathing was kind of funny, Maki noticed. Her own, not even Hanayo’s that time, which made no sense because Maki wasn’t doing anything stressful, not really, even if reliving her past was a bit of a burden. She couldn’t really say Erena wasn’t ready to die that day, not really. Not really.

She wanted Maki to do that. Even if Maki could never avenge her, the least she could do was to –

Hanayo’s room shook. Maki grimaced, again, and sat back on her perch, reloading the bolt.

She did what she had to, Maki thought defensively. Erena was suffering. Anju was dead when she came into the room. Tsubasa –

Maki’s grip grew tighter around the crossbow. It always came back to that third and final death, didn’t it? She could forgive herself for any number of things, but Tsubasa – Maki always faltered.

Her hands felt sweaty. She shouldn’t have thought about it at a time like that, she knew exactly what that kind of thinking would get her during Hanayo’s wolfstime, but she couldn’t stop herself.

She pulled her legs up with her on the chair, holding them tightly, even as Hanayo cried and writhed just one room away. This was not sympathy pain.

Maki was so, so selfish.

Tsubasa was not going to die.

She was going to live and Maki knew exactly what living for Tsubasa entailed after losing her friends to that – it entailed growing stronger, crueler, involved putting a bolt between Hanayo’s eyes. Maki couldn’t stand it. The thought of it. Tsubasa asked her to help her sneak out, certain that Maki understood – she’d seen what happened. They were partners, in a way, weren’t they?

She thought that her love for Hanayo extended only to the gentle one.

But it was wrong. Maki loved her without moderation or consequence, and she’d already done too much: she’d already killed for that kind of thing, so what was one more that Hanayo, possibly, hadn’t marred up as badly?

Maki only shook a little when she put the bolt through her heart.

The bodies weren’t hard to disguise and Hanayo always thought that they got away and just bled all over the place –

The door in front of her creaked. Maki flinched and held her crossbow tighter. Her sweat seemed to glisten in lamplight, the oil lantern beside her in the living room flickering merrily, and even though it was unrealistic she feared for a moment she was melting. What a strange thought.

Hanayo pounds on the door again, nails raking down the wood. She was always strongest on the first night, and usually got out, but with a well placed arrow or two she could be put back to bed quite easily. Once Maki had done it so effectively she was able to put a blanket over her. Imagine that – a werewolf cuddled up with a blanket. She wanted to laugh when she did it, too, but she wasn’t able.

Another pound. Another scratch. Maki stiffened in her chair but her sense of urgency seemed to be failing her, like reality wasn’t settling the way it was supposed to.

Maki only regained her grip on things when she heard the lock give and the door crack open, the usual chunk of wood around the handle gone as the majority of it swung on its hinges undeterred.

Hanayo towered over her, like she always did, and ground her teeth together, growling.

A heartbeat passed: Maki lifted the crossbow, and Hanayo shied away, knowing what it was.

Another.

Her hands weren’t sweaty any more. But she couldn’t aim, her vision wouldn’t correct itself –

Another.

Hanayo perked up with renewed interest, nose twitching, a set of teeth involuntarily exposed when she creaked closer on the wooden floor. Her ears were angled back, but her shoulders leaned more towards her than away.

Another.

She’d been lying to herself. Maki thinks to her conversation with Umi, about settling it with herself, and sleeping.

Maki stood up, dropping her crossbow to the floor, where it clattered and the handle rattled three times against the floor before it sat. She let her arms fall to her sides. Hanayo got closer, and closer. She gave her a small, weak little smile.

Maki was still searching, trying to work out some kind of expression, to notice anything different, anything apologetic at all about her wife, when Hanayo tore into her shoulder, claws cutting into the soft skin at her sides and teeth sunk in so hard they seemed to crack her bones.

The first thought that struck her was that she had a headache.

The second was that she shouldn’t have been alive to experience it. Maki lay there – wherever ‘there’ was, afraid. If she opened her eyes and saw nothing, would it mean she’d died? If she opened them and saw her house, would it mean she dreamed last night? How much was a lie? Did her guilty conscience invent a karma for her…?

It was troublesome, to say the least. But Maki thought she felt something – something like Hanayo rolling over in bed next to her, or like the sun shining through their opened curtain (even though she was certain she closed it yesterday after getting up) – so she wearily opened her eyes and sat up, just enough to disturb the mattress as little as possible.

Her shirt was a mess.

Not a dream, then. Maki reached up to her shoulder, and felt the ghost of an injury, but not what she recalled receiving – the pain was there, yes, but there were no grooves in the flesh. Hanayo snored contentedly beside her.

Maki let out a deep, deep breath, like the air had been let out of her, and slumped back onto the bed.

Maybe Honoka and Umi would have some advice. Later.

For now she turned over in bed, morning pickup be damned. She earned an extra hour.

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jimfromsales · 7 years

Text

The next Avenger Part 1 Warnings: Literally none Word count: 1720

So it’s my new fic! This one will be a series, not sure how long yet, but I hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think :)

The next Avenger Part 1

STEVE’S POV

“Come on, Steve, keep it up! Only two more to go, you can do it! Yes, yes! There’s my winter soldier!” My training partner, Roy, grabs my hand and gives me a solid lift up. He’s big and burly, the perfect partner for my workout, because the only other person who can spot me on the muscle machines is Thor. Hulk could, but not Bruce Banner, and I don’t think that the Hulk could actually be persuaded to stand by a lift machine calmly waiting for me to give up without smashing something first. “So you’re all done for the day, what’re you going to do?” Roy asks in his booming voice. “I might take a nap later, I’m feeling pretty tired after lifting all that weight.” Roy socks me in the arm and I can feel my muscles groaning in protest. “You’re just getting started, you can’t be tired yet! What about dinner?” I sigh inwardly. Roy is a nice guy, but he’s a little slow on the social cues. “Not today, but maybe another time, okay?” “No problem Steve! Have a good one!” I watch him retreat to the locker room before walking towards my towel and water bottle. Suddenly the doors to the gym swing open and a man who looks vaguely familiar walks in. “Hi,” he says breathlessly, as if he’s been running the entire way here. “Are you the only one in today?” He asks, pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. “Yep.” I know him from somewhere, but I can’t put my finger on it. “Oh well.” He looks disappointed for a moment but then puts on a cheerful grin. “Anyway, I’m from the front desk, you’ve probably seen me before- but I do work the night shift most days, so it might be easy to miss- well I’m blathering- anyways, there’s a new Avenger and so Headquarters was wondering if you could show her around? Yeah, that’s great, and I have to get back to work, so I’ll let her introduce herself. Bye!” And he pops back out of the room before I can process everything that he’s said. “Hey, wait! Who sent you from Headquarters?” There is no answer. I see a face peer around the door. “Come on in,” I sigh, wishing that I could go home instead of staying here to provide the grand welcome for some new Avenger that we DON’T need. I realize that I have been mistaken in thinking that we don’t need a new Avenger. As soon as I see her face, my brain lets me know quite clearly that this is someone we can not have the Avengers without. “Hello,” I say, abruptly ceasing my pacing of the room. “Hello,” she replies, giving me a soft smile. “I’m Y/N.” She grins as she looks around the room, taking it all in. I can tell that she’s not in this for fame, and she’s not going to be hard to work with either. She looks just happy. Her eyes are sparkling the way the rest of ours used to, before we had to kill people, and watch people be killed. “I’m Steve Rogers.” I reach out my hand and she bounds down the stairs towards me to grasp it tightly. A strange sensation flutters throughout my whole body as we touch, and I feel a bit weakened as we let go of each other. “Well, are you going to give me the grand tour, Mr. Rogers?” “Steve is fine, thank you.” I laugh. “I’m not that old, am I?” She grins at me. “Well, technically speaking you are…” I roll my eyes. “You’ll have a blast here. Everyone else razzes me about it too.” “Sorry,” she says quickly, looking at me nervously, like she thinks she may have taken the joke too far. It’s strange, because ordinarily I might have gotten secretly offended at this point, but she has such an innocence about her that I don’t believe she would try to cause real insult. “It’s really no problem, I don’t actually mind that much. Now, where are you sleeping? Are you living here, or…?” Y/N turns red. “I’m not actually sure, to be honest, the details were a little sketchy on everything. It was a bit rushed on their part.” “Who’s they?” She gestures into the air. “Them! I don’t know, they didn’t tell me a lot, only that I was coming here.” “That’s odd.” I frown. Why wouldn’t they have warned us first? And why doesn’t Y/N know who sent her? You’d think that we’d be more prepared for situations like this. My only thought is that there must be some imminent danger that we have to train for, otherwise we would take longer to gather recruits. “Can we start the tour? Or is this a bad time?” Y/N interrupts my inner monologue. “Yes, of course, sorry, where should we begin? Here, perhaps? This is the training gym. A lot of weights and a lot of sweat… Not super interesting. And then in this room here…”

***********************************************************************************************

That night I meet up with Nat for coffee downtown, after having escorted Y/N back to her makeshift room that we decided on while we waited for a real decision to be made by Headquarters. “New recruit, huh?” Natasha stirs her coffee with a spoon, while I slowly tear off pieces of my doughnut and drop them into my mouth. “Yeah, she seems nice,” I say, swallowing my mouthful as I talk. “A little on the naive side, but Tony’ll beat that out of her eventually.” “The way he did to you?” Natasha gives me a teasing smile. “Exactly like that.” Natasha doesn’t say anything for a minute. Then, “so what can she do?” “What?” I choke on my doughnut. “What can she do? What’s her special thing? Why is she in the Avengers?” I give her a blank stare, and she glares at me. “So you think she’s a great person, but you have no details of what she does, or why she’s in the Avengers?” I slowly shake my head. “So, theoretically, she could be a Russian spy sent to take down our first line of defense with her ‘endearing naivety,’ is that it?” “Come on Nat, we already have a Russian spy!” She kicks me under the table. “I’m serious, Steve! You can’t be so trusting all the time, you’re gonna get yourself killed someday.” I give Natasha a long look, and she returns it. “You ask her, or I will. And she better hope she has an answer.” Natasha looks like she’s getting up to go and kill Y/N this instant, but I stand up alongside her. “I will, I will,” I sigh.

*********************************************************************************************** BRUCE’S POV I slip off my lab coat and move out into the hallway, ready to head to bed. Living a few doors down from my work has some benefits, such as being able to work until awful hours of the night because it will only take me a few minutes to get ready for bed, but it also has some drawbacks, such as being able to work until awful hours of the night because it will only take me a few minutes to get ready for bed. My eyes are already beginning to close as I reach for the handle on my door, when I suddenly hear shuffling behind me. I live alone on this floor, so I spin around rather quickly as my heart rate elevates. “Hello?” I shout, a little bit louder than I’d intended. Sometimes the Hulk does get out a bit, even when I’m not green. “Hello, I’m sorry, I’m just going to bed.” A figure that resembles Natasha lurks in the shadows, but as it steps into the light, I can see that the person looks nothing like Natasha, except for the fact that they are both women. “I’m Y/N. I’m sorry to disturb you, I’m the new recruit and I’m staying on this floor for the night because I don’t know which room they’re going to put me in.” “No trouble! Sorry, I just get a bit jumpy at night. I’m Bruce Banner, by the way.” I reach out my hand to shake hers, and I see a moment of pause in her before she accepts. As she steps forward to shake my hand, her face comes into the light, and I stare at her. She is beautiful, not in a sexual way, but her face is so contented, so peaceful. Like there’s never been any hurt in her world. Tony’s gonna eat her alive. I feel an odd sensation through my body, and when we release our grip, I know that I really need to head to bed now, as I can barely keep my eyes open. “I’d love to talk more, but I really do need to sleep. Tomorrow perhaps, we can discuss what you’re doing here, and you can meet with the other members of our team. Have a good night!” I give a small wave, and she returns the favour. “Goodnight Bruce,” she whispers. Y/N’S POV

I take small, hurried steps back to my room and latch the door behind me once inside. Sliding down the wall to the floor, I begin to shake, my hands clutching at each other, trying and failing to find comfort. What is happening to me? I try to breath slowly, but I can feel the pain ripping at me. I didn’t think it would be this bad or this sudden. My skin feels like it’s stretched to the limit, like it’s about to rip open, but I can’t reach my needle to stop this. I can see the stupid thing on my drawer, too far away to grab easily. I begin crawling towards it, whimpering as my entire body convulses with this urge. I’m going to lose control over it, I can feel it coming, I have to stop it, now. I reach up, and grasp at the needle; it’s in my hands, at my neck, somehow I manage to stab myself with it. The relief is almost immediate. I get up and lay down in the bed as my body begins to melt away into unconsciousness. Mind-numbing, glorious unconsciousness.

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specialmindz · 7 years

Photo

“Ooooh! Look at dat bunny baby Snas!”

“Mmnahh..gag..”

“heh, it’s a cutie all right,” said Sans smiling as the baby continued to gurgle. Apparently it had just woken up from a nap.

I wish my brother took naps.

“Dat baby’s fluffy as hell lady!”

“Um, uh..thank yo-”

“Where you get these fluffy babies? You gots two and now you gets twee?! Where da’ baby store at?!”

“W-well-”

“*sniiiiiff*”

“Please..don’t do that Sans.”

“TELL ME WHERE DA’ BABY STORE AT!”

“volume lil’ bro.”

“Why don’t you ask your parents where the babies come from?” asked the mother rabbit nervously.

They’ve so much energy…

“I KNOWS where babies come from! Daddy says babies come from da’ store like erything else, but I can’t FINDS it! I looks and I looks, but I can’t finds it nowheres!”

“Ha ha ha ha ha!”

“the baby store huh?”

“Yep! Didn’t you know dat Snas? You buy da’ babies at the secret store…”

“heh heh heh, no i didn’t know that pap.”

Bro’s so cute…

“Is too! The store like a secret cwub and you can only gets in if you go with someone you loves…”

“Awww!”

“You can also gets em’ online if you go to the Deep Web.”

“….”

“the what…?”

“Dat’s probly where Daddy get us cause’ nobody love him.”

“papyrus!”

“Daddy say I’s da’ worst purchase he ever maked-”

“Let’s change the subject-”

“Cept’ for Snas.”

“….”

“He gotted the two for one deal online, but they sends him cwap babies. Snas’ font don’t work and he be cweepy-”

“Would you like to hold the baby Papyrus?”

Papyrus’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! I gonna holds it real good! Look Snas, watch the baby!” Papyrus carefully cradled the newly born rabbit in his arms, being careful to support it’s neck, much to the mother’s surprise.

“Eerrah…?” The baby looked at him warily.

“Hellwoe baby, you’s so cute! Erybody gonna love you cause’ you’s a bunny and nobody hate bunnies. How old you be?”

“He’s-”

“I asked the baby.”

“bro…!”

“Heh heh ha ha ha! It’s alright Sans, he WAS talking to my little one after all,” said the innkeeper laughing.

Still…

“pap needs to learn some manners, he’s getting so rude…”

“Baby not wude!” exclaimed Papyrus angrily.

“You’re a baby?”

“Course’ I’s a baby! Look at dis butt! I gots a tiny hiney and tiny hands and tiny feets-”

“But you’re a little tall to be a baby don’t you think? You’re probably a toddler.”

“Well you’s a widdle ugly to be a bunny, and he probably found!”

“papyrus no!”

“Heh heh ha ha ha! Okay, that was a little rude.”

“you’re getting out of hand baby bro,” said Sans embarrassed. “these days if you aren’t threatening people or interrupting them, you’re bossing them around! dad might take you back to the store if you don’t behave you know…”

“Sans!”

“Is too dat da’ baby still innerrupt peoples, but Muder teachin’ me to be good and I’s getting better! You don’t know what you’s talkin’ bout’ Snas. Isn’t that right bunny baby?”

“Gha-roo?”

“mother? is that what you said?”

We don’t have a mother…

“Yep, Muder teaches the manners and gives me sweets when I’s good! She real nice-”

“we don’t have a mother papyrus, who is this person you’re talking about?”

It can’t be the lady who runs the store here in Snowdin, Papyrus always calls her the cinnabun lady…

Who the hell…?

It bothered Sans that someone, ANYONE, would take it upon themselves to look after his little brother..especially with the rumors about him still flying around. So far Papyrus had scared or killed everyone off in the lab and the grieving families and terrified survivors made it known all over the Underground. His brother was on his best behavior with the rabbit family, but everyone else learned to avoid him a long time ago as dogs in Snowdin disappeared and the puzzles in Hotland begun to mysteriously malfunction due to baby toys being shoved between the gears.

Who would want to risk their life taking care of a baby that isn’t even theirs?

The jumping platform puzzles sometimes sent monsters who used them hurling into the lava where their dust couldn’t even be collected, causing most monsters who couldn’t survive such temperatures to try and find an alternate route to work or school. Protests against his brother had been common for a long time until finally the king gathered everyone in the Underground and said something that turned Sans’ soul to ice.

“Okay child, apologize to all the people now,” said Asgore lifting the baby bones up to the mic.

“I’s not a child, I’s a baby!”

“Oh dear, my mistake, heh heh ha. You’re so intelligent I sometimes forget you’re just an infant!”

“Babies aren’t stupid, YOU’S stupid!”

“c’mon bro…”

“Just tell your lie Papyrus so we can all go home.”

“!!!!”

Asgore knows Papyrus can make people believe his lies, but he’s a guy! He can’t BE a mother!

“The purple lady big Buther! She a classy lassy!”

“purple..lady…?”

I don’t know anyone like that…

“h-how come i’ve never met her bro?”

If this person’s real, they’re a freaking psycho.

“She only take care of babies. Mamma spidies don’t look after children and she likes to cook big people’s into doughnuts-”

“Sans can I talk to you a minute alone please?”

“Hey! I’s talkin’ over here!”

“I’m sorry dear, but this is important. Can you look after the baby alone for a minute or two?”

“you’re leaving your baby with papyrus?!”

“It’s VERY IMPORTANT Sans.”

“uh, okay…”

The mother rabbit led Sans upstairs to the second floor of the inn.

“is this about the purple-lady?”

“Yes it is,” said the mother rabbit quietly. “You said you don’t have a mother and your father sounds…”

“like a prick.”

“Yes.”

“okay, so?”

“So it’s common for children to have imaginary friends when they’re lonely, and your brother may be pretending to have a mother because he doesn’t like his father.”

“ohhhh!”

I didn’t think of that!

That’s kinda sad actually…

“I think it’d be best to just let him pretend, okay? We don’t want him to feel unloved, especially with all these horrible rumors around! My husband I’m ashamed to say, was a part of the war against skeletons and there are a lot of people here who still don’t-”

“huh?”

“What?”

“what war? what are you talking about?”

Oh dear.

“Um, never mind darling! Just look after your brother alright? He needs your love and support.”

“yes ma’m. i’ll try my best.”

“*Sigh*” The mother rabbit pet Sans affectionately on the head. “You’re such a good boy Sans, I wish more people were like you. Listen, if you ever need to talk-”

“i’ll be fine. it’s not as bad as pappy makes it sound, dad’s just a smartass, he doesn’t put us in cages or anything, heh.”

“Oh good, I was worried for a bit! We don’t want you or your brother growing up to be crazy sociopaths do we? Heh heh ha ha ha!”

“……”

“Well let’s go back downstairs before your brother takes to kidnapping. *giggle* I think he might want a baby of his own~”

“well i can’t help him with that, unless you wanna do me a favor.”

“…..”

“i’m sorry.”

“…Don’t worry child, keep practicing. You’re Comic Sans, you’ll be funny someday I just know it!”

Ow.

“NO BABY, DON’T EAT DA’ SCARF! I COOKS YOU FOR BREAKFAST!!”

“Go get him please, and remember what I said about taking care of your brother.”

“yes ma’m, i’ll take good care of him, i promise.”

Sans went back downstairs.

Alright, I’m guessing you’re all wondering why I obviously used my own art here instead of paying tribute to someone else’s with my mini stories as per usual. Well that’s because the artist had a problem with people posting their art so I took theirs down out of respect...even though I spent an hour on the story beneath it.

I tried making a replica in photoshop in order to salvage the story, but adobe’s being a bitch and lagging, so the art came out badly. Hard to select, erase, or generally do anything with something when you have to move your mouse over the small part you wanna change for a full two minutes (I spent hours trying to make it look like Sans WASN’T aiming to look at the innkeeper’s boobs). -_-

#fonttale #fonttale au #undertale #undertale au #undertale fanart #undertale art #papyrus #sans #kid sans #baby papyrus #baby bones #annoying baby #fonts #skeletons #horror fonts #comedy #funny #muffet

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