#but im going for accuracy man | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hummingbird24220 · 12 days ago

Note

Hi hi hi hiiii!

May i request... Some funny shenanigans in Arabastra where Strawhat!reader is simpin for the Croco? 👀😳 Kinda...crack-adjecent 🤭 Like... "You come here often?" while being stuck in a cage or "What can that hook do?" before it reveals to have a poison kind of stupid?

Please please with a banana on top? 💜

Yes. Yessss. Not really plot-adjacent - this is not really plot adjacent but hey ho - im here for croc, not plot accuracy.

Sand Daddy Issues

One piece x reader (reader simping for croccy)

It was a hot, dry day in Alabasta. You were dehydrated. You were sunburnt. You were in a literal cage suspended above a pit of banana gators.

And yet…

“Okay but like, hear me out,” you said, clutching the iron bars and watching as Sir Crocodile dramatically turned to leave, “does anyone else think he’s kinda... hot?”

Smoker made a choked noise. Nami turned slowly to stare at you like you just licked a cactus.

Zoro let out a suffering sigh. “I’d say you’ve lost your mind, but I’m pretty sure you never had one.”

“He’s the enemy,” Nami hissed.

“He’s got eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man,” you whispered reverently, leaning your cheek against the bars. “And I, for one, respect that.”

Crocodile paused halfway down the stairs, clearly hearing that. He didn’t turn around.

Usopp yanked you away from the bars. “Have you SEEN the size of his hook?!”

“I KNOW, right?” you whispered back with a dangerous sparkle in your eyes.

“No—I meant—it’s poisonous!!” Usopp panicked.

Luffy, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the cage, tilted his head. “You wanna date him or fight him?”

You lifted a finger. “Yes.”

Zoro facepalmed so hard he nearly gave himself a concussion. “We are going to die in this cage, and the last thing I’m gonna hear is you thirsting over a Warlord.”

“You say that like it’s not completely valid,” you replied. “He’s rich, he's powerful, and he wears fur in the desert. That’s commitment. That’s fashion. That’s—”

“Insanity,” Smoker growled from the corner of the cage. “You damn pirates are all insane.”

“Oh c’mon, Smokey,” you said sweetly. “Don't tell me you’ve never looked at him and thought ‘I bet that hook could—’”

“I will dropkick you into the sand,” he interrupted.

“I welcome that energy,” you said with a wink.

Suddenly the floor beneath the cage rumbled.

Everyone looked down at once.

Zoro cursed. “Banana gators.”

You looked down too, then up at the ceiling, clasping your hands. “Dear sweet Croco-daddy, please don't let me die before I get to ask if you're single.”

Crocodile finally turned around, exasperated.

“You done?” he drawled.

You smiled brightly. “That depends. You free Friday?”

“WE’RE IN A CAGE!” Nami yelled, shoving you.

Luffy laughed. “This is fun.”

Zoro started trying to bend the bars with his bare hands.

Smoker tried to light a cigar and nearly choked on the rage.

Usopp curled into a ball.

And you? You leaned toward Crocodile and whispered through the bars with a sultry grin:

“So uh… you come here often?”

You weren’t sure what was more terrifying: the banana gators below, the creaking sound the cage kept making, or the fact that Crocodile still hadn’t said no to your flirting.

“Well?” you said hopefully, gripping the bars like a maiden in a tragic play. “If you’re gonna feed us to the gators, can you at least tell me your favorite flower first?”

Crocodile raised a brow. “Why?”

“So I can haunt you properly.”

That actually got a snort out of him. A real one. A Warlord-of-the-Sea-smirking-at-your-bad-flirting kind of snort.

“I prefer silence,” he said, but there was amusement dancing in his voice. The bastard was enjoying this.

Next to him, Nico Robin covered her mouth as if yawning, but you saw the smile behind her hand.

“She likes you,” Robin said casually, voice as smooth as sand through fingers.

“I respect him,” you corrected, with the sincerity of someone about to perish and still down bad. “And maybe also wanna braid his hair a little.”

“You’re insane,” Smoker muttered. “This is a hostage situation.”

“She’s mentally unwell,” Nami added.

“I think it’s romantic!” Luffy said helpfully.

Crocodile made a little hum in his throat and gestured with one sharp wave of his hook. “Leave them. Let the banana gators line up. One by one.”

“Oh! Like a buffet,” you chirped, nodding. “Very organized. Love that.”

He looked back over his shoulder, meeting your eyes. “Try not to scream too loud. It’s unpleasant.”

“Depends on the reason I’m screaming,” you said, entirely too suggestively.

Zoro audibly gagged. Usopp started praying to every god he knew. Smoker tried to chew his cigar into dust.

And with that, Crocodile turned and left, cape billowing. Robin gave you a tiny finger wave as she followed, definitely amused.

The gators below growled.

“…He totally stayed to listen,” you said a moment later, peering down the corridor.

“FOCUS,” Nami yelled.

The gators were starting to line up like actual dinner guests at a five-course buffet.

Cue: panic.

And then—ka-chunk—something rustled in the corner of the pit. A familiar mop of black hair appeared in the shadows.

“Hmm? This door was unlocked,” said Sanji’s voice.

“SANJI!!!” you all screamed.

He looked up at the cage, blinking. “Oh, look at that. Caged birds. And my lovely caged angel—wait, WHY is she leaning out like she’s waiting for a date?”

“She’s looking for Crocodile,” Zoro groaned. “She thinks he’s her boyfriend now.”

“He might be!” you said defensively. “Did you see the way he looked back? That was at least a third-date look.”

Before anyone could argue further, the floor shifted again.

A geyser of wax exploded from the floor as Mr. 3 was forcibly thrown into the pit by the very gator who’d eaten him. Chaos exploded. Banana gators roared. Usopp screamed like a haunted kettle.

You?

You were still cupping your hands around your eyes, peering dramatically into the distance.

“…Guys. I swear he’s still watching.”

“You mean Crocodile?” Sanji asked.

You nodded dreamily.

Smoker stared at you like he was about to launch himself out of the cage just to get away. “You’re delusional.”

“I prefer ‘dangerously charming,’” you replied.

The casino was crumbling.

You were running full speed through smoke, debris, and the echo of banana gators throwing tantrums. Nami was screaming something about “go left, LEFT—NO YOUR OTHER LEFT!” and Sanji was dropkicking a Baroque Works goon off your tail.

You, meanwhile, were having a very unfortunate moment of reflection.

“…So like. I get it now.”

“Not now,” Nami hissed.

“No, no, let me say this,” you insisted, ducking a falling ceiling tile. “I understand that yes, Crocodile is technically the villain. Like, warlord, attempted coup, sand powers of biblical proportions, poison hook, et cetera—I got it.”

Usopp wheezed. “Now?! You’re having a moral reckoning now?!”

“I’m saying I recognize that I went a bit too hard. Maybe I projected a little. Maybe I simp for rugged men with criminal tendencies and broad shoulders. I’m not proud, but I’m honest.”

Zoro, already fed up, turned mid-sprint just to smack the back of your head.

“OW—”

“You deserved that,” he said flatly.

“Maybe you should get more scars,” you muttered, rubbing your head. “Then maybe you’d make the cut.”

Sanji let out the loudest “TCH—” you’d ever heard in your life and nearly walked into a wall in protest. “Don’t you DARE compare that lizard freak to us.”

“Why not?” you shot back. “Crocodile appreciated me. He smirked. He lingered. He fed us to gators, but like—gently.”

Zoro looked like he was going to smack you again.

Smoker, running behind with Vivi, shouted, “If you ever say ‘gently’ and ‘fed us to gators’ in the same sentence again, I’m arresting you on principle.”

Vivi gasped between breaths. “He tried to kill my father!”

“I said I get it!” you said, holding your arms out. “I’m just… processing. I have a type, okay? I like rugged, dangerous men with mysterious pasts and possibly trench coats.”

Luffy, riding a broken door like a skateboard past the collapsing hallway, shouted, “Ooh! That sounds like Zoro!”

Zoro visibly recoiled. “Do not drag me into this!”

You placed a hand on your heart dramatically. “All I’m saying is—if Crocodile ever reforms and opens a beachside bar, I am first in line.”

Nami shoved you into a doorway just as a chandelier fell where you were standing. “And if you don’t shut up, I will personally bury you in the desert.”

You let out a deep sigh as the team stumbled out into the sunlight, coughing and covered in dust. “It’s okay. I know it’s over. It was never meant to be…”

Everyone relaxed for a second.

“…But maybe he’s watching from a dune somewhere. Just like—‘Ah, there goes that oddly charming disaster of a Straw Hat.’”

“I’m gonna throw you back inside,” Zoro muttered.

You stood on tiptoe and shouted toward the horizon.

“WAIT, TELL CROCO I LOVE HIM—”

A shoe hit you in the head. You didn’t know whose.

You weren’t sure how you got separated from the crew.

One minute you were arguing with Nami about whether it was technically a crush or a “psychological fascination with morally grey authority figures,” and the next, you were on a racing lizard, yelling directions like you knew where the hell Alubarna even was.

Your mouth was dry, your brain was dry, and your heart—tragically—was still moist for a certain Warlord.

You tumbled off the lizard when it reared near the palace gates. The streets were a warzone: rebels screaming, royal guards holding the line, Vivi’s voice echoing somewhere in the fray—but you?

You were disoriented. Sun-stroked. Dusty. Maybe dying.

And then—you saw him.

Sir Crocodile. Standing at the palace steps like the world belonged to him. Cape flowing. Hook glinting. Sand swirling dramatically like some desert-themed anime intro.

You squinted, wiped the dust from your face, and muttered:

“…Goddamn, he really is majestic.”

With no better plan, you staggered toward him, dusting yourself off and clearing your throat like you belonged there. His guards turned—tensed—but Crocodile held up a hand.

He looked you over.

“…You,” he said flatly.

“Me,” you breathed. “Back for round two.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Your crew escaped. Why are you here?”

“Distraction,” you said smoothly, pulling yourself up with all the poise you could muster. “The Straw Hats are all over the city. I figured I’d come by and… stall you.”

His brow lifted slightly. “By throwing yourself at me?”

“That’s phase one,” you said with a grin. “Phase two was gonna be seduction, but we’re on a tight schedule.”

He actually smirked. “You’re insane.”

You leaned on a column. “So I’ve been told. Repeatedly. In different languages.”

He stepped closer. “You’re lucky I find this entertaining.”

“Oh, I’m not lucky,” you said. “I’m charming. Big difference.”

You both paused in the eye of the storm. It was the closest thing to peace you’d had in hours.

Then, casually—too casually—Crocodile said, “By the way. I killed your captain. Straw Hat is dead.”

…

You blinked.

“That,” you said after a beat, “is a massive red flag.”

He arched a brow.

“I mean damn, Croco-Bae,” you said, backing up with a hand on your hip. “I know I like ‘em toxic, but that’s straight-up un-dateable behavior.”

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” he said, voice low now, dangerous.

You shrugged. “I mean, yeah. But I was flirting, dude. You don’t just drop murder news mid-banter. That’s—bad form.”

And then he lunged.

You just barely dodged the first sand swipe, rolling across the sandstone tiles. He didn’t hesitate now—he came at you with the full weight of a Warlord, hook whistling through the air.

You pulled your weapon (a sad excuse of a sword/bo staff/whatever you had left after the explosion) and braced.

“You know what?” you shouted, ducking another attack. “This is why you’re single!”

He scoffed. “I prefer it.”

You threw a rock at his head.

He vaporized it with sand.

You screamed in frustration. “I WAS GONNA GIVE YOU A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET!”

“You were going to die!”

“I CAN MULTITASK!!”

Sand began to swirl dangerously around you both as his patience evaporated like water in the desert. Your stance was slipping. You weren’t a match—not really. But you weren’t going down simping.

At least not loudly.

You weren’t gonna win.

Not against him. Not in this state. You were sun-fried, bruised, cracked down the middle like a clay pot with too many metaphors, and Crocodile’s hook was swinging straight for your gut.

There was a woosh of sand, and you thought: Damn. He really is a 10… but so is arsenic.

You braced for the hit—

—and did get hit.

Just not by the hook.

A fist covered in haki, rage, and the sheer force of friendship collided with Crocodile’s smug jaw.

“YOU’RE NOT HURTING MY CREW!!!” Luffy shouted, voice pure fire.

You collapsed sideways in the sand, hook wound slicing deep across your side. It hurt. A lot. But it didn’t feel... final. Which, honestly, was a surprise.

You blinked up at the sky as Luffy went feral on Crocodile in the distance, fists flying, sand exploding, chaos reborn.

And all you could think was:

“…Okay but like… if he’d just not tried to murder everyone…”

You laughed softly to yourself—blood loss chuckle edition.

“…It could’ve worked out.”

And then you passed out.

Much Later...

You woke up in a bed too soft for the desert, draped in gauze and bad decisions.

The palace ceiling loomed above you. Golden light filtered through clean windows. Somewhere nearby, birds chirped, probably unaware that you almost had a villain redemption arc through sheer thirst.

You groaned.

Everything ached.

Your side was bandaged tight, your arms bruised, and your brain felt like someone had replaced it with a dried-out sponge.

You blinked slowly.

“…Did we win?”

“Unfortunately,” came Zoro’s voice from nearby.

You turned your head just in time to see him walk into view—arms crossed, scowl heavy, that very particular “you’re-an-idiot-and-I-care-about-you” aura rolling off him.

“You survived,” he added, sounding mildly disappointed. “Which is impressive considering you tried to flirt your way through a boss battle.”

“It was strategic distraction,” you croaked.

Zoro walked over.

Slapped you gently—but firmly—on the head.

“OW—DUDE?!”

“That’s for going through a full-on Crocodile romance arc without backup.”

“I WAS LONELY AND HE HAD A CAPE,” you shouted, immediately regretting it as your side flared with pain.

He sat down beside the bed with a long sigh. “You’re lucky Luffy got there in time.”

“…Did he win?”

“Yeah. Beat Crocodile’s smug ass into the dirt. He’s gone. Poof. Sandboy evaporated.”

You sighed.

“…Shame. I liked the eyeliner.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“I’m healing,” you corrected, turning your head toward the sun-drenched window. “Emotionally and physically.”

Zoro snorted. “You lost a lot of blood.”

“Yeah. I also lost a 6’6 warlord with a hook hand and issues. I think the wound to the soul is worse.”

He picked up your pillow and lightly smacked you with it.

“Get some rest, idiot.”

You closed your eyes, smiling faintly.

“…Tell Croco I still think about him sometimes.”

“I’m telling Chopper to drug you.”

#x reader #one piece #reader insert #luffy #sanji #nami #nico robin #usopp #tony tony chopper #request #sir crocodile #crocodile one piece

152 notes · View notes

teecupangel · 6 months ago

Note

(sorry in advance, I've been stewing over this for so long that this will be a long one xd)

I was re-reading your fics on ao3 again (sue me, im starved for desmond time travel content) and whilst reading Eagle of Alamut's description i realised '...wait a damn minute, it is true! all of Desmond's knowledge on past is from his ancestors!' (not everyone is as big of a nerd as shaun). Cue weeks of relentless daydreaming over Desmond in Reneisance Italy trying his damnest to lay low... but: 1) he does not know what is socially acceptable at the time (clothe and behaviour wise)

2) the animus likely shielded it's users from the more... er.. unsaviory historical accuracy (child marriage, smell, violence and mistreatment towards the poor, women, disabled)

3) politics, culinary arts, medicine and money value from that era are not common knowledge (or even fully known to todays historians)

4) Ezio was not known for his subtility...

...so while desmond may know who to strike in order to protect Ezios family from getting executed, what places he may know to avoid if he wants to avoid attention from the italian brotherhood.

He does not know what he was getting himself in to when he decided to travel back in time.

I can just imagine him thinking that he can finally retire and live his life, but then BOOM here comes the shock of sociatal injustices! religious violence! inequality! horrendous mistreatment of beggars and disabled people! and as a good man raised in the 21st century he obviously can't, in his right conciousness, just turn his back on these issues, on these people.

So here he is, in Rome of all places, doing his best to atleast stay hidden from the Auditore's, and consequesntly, the Italian brotherhood's, detection, as he stalks the bright rooftops of Roma as histories (probably) very first assasin turned vigiliante!

I can just picture him at one point or another, getting mistaken for a Spanish assasin and his only attempt at 'confirming' (read: encouraging misleading rumours), is to use the very little languistic knowledge the American education system has bestowed upon him. cue him very awkwardly trying to immitate a Spanish accent/ speak in Spanish. or just, you know, say the only words every student knows, 'Feliz Navidad'.

It would be so funny if Desmond’s Spanish are based on:

1) what little remains of Ezio’s Spanish (maybe on par or even worse than his French)

2) Basic Spanish that he learned on the Farm

3) Spanish songs he heard

So people think that Desmond is eccentric.

And Rich.

Because Desmond wants to help people but he doesn’t want to be seen as an Assassin so…

He becomes a supposed rich Spanish (Arabic would have sent a red flag to the Brotherhood) noble who came to Rome to live a life away from his ‘family’.

Why is he ‘rich’?

Well, killing nobles and other ‘evil doers’ will flag the Brotherhood as well so it would be better to just…

Leave certain incriminating evidence in the doors of their enemies and let them duke it out. Hey, if some things go missing while they’re too busy with their enemies, that’s just collateral damage.

Also…

Sometimes, things go missing when some people get into accidents.

It’s easy to buy the impoverish area in Rome. It’s a bit challenging to get doctors to treat them.

Until Desmond flashed the right amount of money, of course.

Desmond manages to stay under the radar by being part of the upper echelon.

An eccentric foreigner who helps the poor and sick out of the goodness of his heart.

Or… because he apparently believes that the way to heaven is through good will and not… paying the clergy.

Desmond knows that being seen as completely good is a bad thing as well so he lets rumors spread that he’s an opportunist who heals the sick and protects the weak to receive their loyalty. He gives them salary to become his guards (not that he needs any) and people whisper how loyal the poor are to someone who gives them bread.

And to hammer in that “no, Ezio, I am absolutely not connected to the Templars BUT I’m also not going to be a good ally, just leave me alone!” plan he has, he becomes a patron of the art.

Sexually progressive art.

The church hates him but tolerates him because Desmond does ‘donate’ (jokes on them, he donates what he stole from the church) and the artists love him because he commissions stuff with the same thing over and over again “whatever you want to paint/sculpt/work on but I want the Borgia men getting fucked in the ass while Lucrezia Borgia watches”

He’s not rich enough to actually be a threat (especially after Ezio starts wrecking shit up) and he keeps to himself most of the time.

But, of course, life always has it out for Desmond and he comes face to face with a wounded recruit at the edge of his property and…

Well…

He only wanted to heal him then send him on his merry way.

He didn’t expect Ezio to come barging in thinking said recruit has been kidnapped by the eccentric ‘possibly sexual deviant’ Lord Miles.

#assassin's creed #desmond miles #ezio auditore #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed

270 notes · View notes

rini-rushed · 5 months ago

Text

english kinda sucks.

☆ rin x reader! (gender not mentioned)

★ crack? idk im smokin /j | reader might be illiterate (LIKE ME IN JP) | already in relastionhip B)

notes: (rin might be ooc D:) i go to a jp/en bilingual school as an english strong student so idk i thought i'd have fun + this is inspired by the infamous EN additional time :P

sypnosis -> learning english after the age of six kinda sucks, having to actually learn the grammar.. but you know what's almost as bad as english grammar?

発音 (PRONOUNCIATION.)

your eyebrows bunched together, your pouty lips now just frowning in distaste at the english letter written out for you by your boyfriend.

meanwhile he's sitting beside you with his legs crossed together, looking at your fidgeting pen and confused look on your face, rin had already gone through this before, since he was going to be at the top of the soccer world of course.

after another minute of you butchering the pronunciation of "th", rin takes the pencil from your fingers and points the lead at the words he had written, turning to look at you, you catch eye contact with him.

he looks at the three words, pointing at each one, in the order he wrote it, rin proceeds to carefully pronounce to you, and you drunk in his slightly accented voice. what a cutie.

"through"

"though"

"thought"

...

maybe his voice wasn't as cute when he pronounced these words and despite looking VERY similar, sounded very different and even meanr very different things...

and what does he mean one's a prepozishun, another is a naon, and that last one is a conjuhkushon...??? whatever those are supposed to be..

"ehhh... threuw?"

you felt like an infant, trying your hardest to try and annunciate these confusing and annoying words.

the little accent in your voice that bled through your voice as you put in so much effort into trying to say these words correctly, it was really amusing to rin.

to him, these words were easy to say, easy to spot, easy to use. but seeing you put in so much effort was adorable to say the least.

"through" he echoes your words with more certainty and accuracy.

you scrunched up your face at the correction, and just went to the next word.

"..dough.."

"though" rin reads, you shoot him a small side glance at how close you were.

you were bit more happy that you got this one a lot better than the last, barely off, you were motivated to try again.

...

"...though."

you turned your head towards rin with an expectant look, the look in your eyes screamed "tell me i'm right".

though his facial expression didn't beam with gladness at you finally getting it correct, it's still rin itoshi afterall, but you could see a small glimmer of pride that dotted itself into the teal sea of ethereality that swam in scleras of your boyfriend's features.

"good job. took you long enough." he complimented, but deep rooted in that bored sounding tone, you knew he was happy to see you overcome.

rin then narrow his eyes slightly, moving his pencil over, making your eyes follow with his movements.

ruining your nice moment, "now this one." he speaks in english, you frown.

rin only watches as you struggle to differentiate 'though' and 'through', it's entertaining to watch, but next to him you were merely being sulky.

all with a single thought going through your head, though you agreed with yourself completely, you like spending time with your boyfriend.

'man, english kinda sucks.'

~ rini writes ~

#whatthefuckdidijustwrite

#anotherbadendingsobsob

#thistookmeeversincenov17becauseikeptabandoningit

tags: @mininji @tofumiarchives @atlas-atlantic @wabatle @biggestcharleskinnie

@rinitoshiplzdateme @fishii-writes @reapkusho @tired-xyra-urstruly

IM SORRY FOR TAGGING YOU GUYS AGAIN AND AGIANAINS...

tried to keep it to rin fans but fumi/atlas

#bllk #blue lock #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin #★ rin itoshi #rin itoshi #bllk x you #bllk x reader #★ rini's writing

140 notes · View notes

augiewrites · 4 months ago

Text

“psychic” - ray stantz

summary: ray invites a psychic to help them on a job

pairing: ray stantz x psychic!reader

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this turned out so long and is kind of niche but dr. ray stantz if you read this im free on thursday night and would like to hang out. please respond to this and then hang out with me on Thursday night when i’m free.

Spooks and specters aside, Ray liked to think that he was a reasonable, level-headed man.

His friends, however, tended to disagree.

“C’mon, Ray, you can’t believe everything this crack says just ‘cause they’re a smokeshow,” Peter chastised him from the passenger seat.

“I consulted with multiple colleagues before I even thought about using their services. I will have you know that—”

“Ah, and I’m sure those colleagues had a plethora of scientific backing.”

“You weren’t even there,” Ray scoffed, “if you would just set your biases aside for one second, one second—”

“OH, please!”

“—you might actually learn something valuable!”

“You know, this is getting ridiculous, Ray.” Peter shook his head, looking out the window.

“Ridiculous, I’m being ridiculous, that’s rich.” Ray muttered to himself.

Egon’s monotone voice broke through from the backseat, “The accuracy of the reading was quite impressive.” He didn’t bother looking up from the gadget he was toying with.

“Thank you!” “Not you, too!” Ray and Peter exclaimed in unison.

“Look, Ray,” Peter turned in his seat to face his friend, “a few lucky guesses doesn’t mean someone’s qualified.”

“Last I checked, you didn’t have any better ideas.” Ray retorted.

“Just because I don’t have any better ideas doesn’t mean this is our only option.”

Ray cut the wheel sharply into a parking spot, narrowly avoiding the other parked cars as Ecto-1 jerked to a stop.. “Pete, our equipment isn’t giving us accurate readings, the spirit is non-communicative, and there are too many objects to know which one it’s attached to. This discussion. Is. Over.”

Three car doors were flung open—only two slammed shut.

”What happened to ‘I’m not stepping foot in that scammer’s lair’?” Ray threw over his shoulder.

“If you think I’m letting you go in there alone to get manipulated by a con artist, you’re even crazier than I thought,” Peter scoffed, “especially now that Spengler’s compromised.”

“I can assure you that I am not compromised.”

“Whatever, Pete,” Ray pushed open the door to the apartment complex, “just…don’t be yourself.”

————————————————

Peter lectured Ray the entire way up to the fifth floor, and was about to octuple down on his argument when the plain door opened, cutting him off.

The psychic smiled warmly at the trio.

”Dr. Stantz, Dr. Spengler, welcome back,” they moved aside, gesturing them into the apartment, “and you must be Dr. Venkman. Welcome, my name’s Y/N.”

Y/N extended a hand, and Peter gave it a brief shake.

“Yeah, pleasure’s all mine.”

If looks could kill, Ray would’ve killed Peter a long time ago.

”Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, Y/N.” What Peter gave in sarcasm, Ray made up for in sincerity.

”It’s no problem at all—please, take a seat.”

Ray promptly sat in the plush chair closest to Y/N, and Egon took the other, leaving Peter sitting on a low cushion on the floor.

Y/N gave them another smile, “What can I do for you gentlemen?”

”Well—“ Peter began, but was promptly cut off by Ray.

”We have a job, you see. A client recently inherited his great-uncle’s estate, but there’s this poltergeist—real nasty one. We think it has an attachment to something in the house, but we can’t figure out what.”

Y/N nodded, “Hm, I see.”

Peter butted in, “These goofs were hoping you’d come to the house and be their ghost hound.”

”Peter.” Ray gave him a warning look.

”And I take it you don’t want my help?” Y/N raised an inquisitive brow.

”I mean, don’t get me wrong. I appreciate that you need to make a living. I’m just not buying it.”

“I am so sorry about him, Y/N,” Ray started.

Y/N just laughed, their focus still on Peter.

“Last week. You were on a date—she was a little too young for you, by the way.”

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N cut him off.

”You thought you were going to get lucky, but she got cold feet, kicked you out of the car and drove off with your pants. Left you there, hanging in the breeze.”

”How did you—“

”There’s a man with you, he saw the whole thing. Says his name’s Bill. He couldn’t wait to tell someone about it.”

Peter gaped at Y/N, speechless for possibly the first time in his life. Images of his late uncle Bill flashed in his mind. He had always found humor in other people’s misery.

Y/N turned their attention to Ray, who was already looking at them in awe. “I would be happy to help,” they briefly looked over his shoulder with a warm smile, “your mother says hello, by the way. Lovely woman.”

“Th-thank you.” Ray stammered a bit.

“You were actually my last appointment of the day, if you would like to go now.”

Peter shot up from the cushion, heading toward the door. “Great, let’s go.”

He just wanted to get Y/N out of his life before they could reveal anything else about him.

”Don’t mind him.” Ray smiled at Y/N apologetically.

“Oh, trust me, I won’t.” Y/N beamed back, grabbing their things and following Ray out the door.

————————————————

Ray guided Y/N into the passenger seat, much to Peter’s chagrin.

He was back to his usual self, leaning up from the backseat and gripping the back of Ray’s seat as he questioned their new addition.

”So these people—spirits—are just watching us at all times.”

”Well, yeah,” Y/N laughed softly, “unfortunately, they don’t have much else to do.”

Peter sat back in his seat, looking mortified.

”Really makes you reconsider how you act, right?”

Peter thought for a moment.

”Nah, nothing Casper can do about it, anyway. Bunch of creeps.”

Ray scoffed. “Very inspirational, Pete,” he snuck a glance at Y/N, “I know I’ll be thinking twice the next time I pick my nose—figuratively speaking, of course. I do not pick my nose.”

“Of course,” Y/N laughed, “but really, you can’t stop living just because you might have a few spectators.”

”See, they get me.” Peter lightly slapped Ray’s arm before he turned into the driveway and put the car in park.

Y/N exited the car, looking up at the house.

”Are the owners home?” They inquired, glancing at Ray.

”No,” he lightly jingled his keyring, “they gave us the spare key while we figure this out.”

Y/N looked back at the house.

”Oh…well, there’s a woman upstairs. She looks upset.”

”Yeah, they must be pretty angry. Keeps throwing things around and killing the power.”

”No,” Y/N frowned, starting toward the house, “she looks…sad.”

Ray followed Y/N, unlocking the door and guiding them to the staircase.

”I think you may have this ghost misunderstood. The energy here is…” Y/N paused, thinking, “low…but I don’t think there’s anyone here that means harm.”

The pair moved through the house, Peter and Egon left down in the foyer.

”Activity has been most concentrated in the master bedroom, the door to your left.” Ray nodded at the slightly ajar door. “We think that what we’re looking for is in there.”

Y/N wordlessly nodded and walked to the bedroom, pausing abruptly in the doorway.

”Oh, hello,” they greeted the air in a soft voice.

Ray craned his neck from the hallway, seeing nothing in the room. Y/N, however, had their eyes trained on the vanity.

”I see…” They shot a solemn look at Ray. “She’s been here for a long time.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Ray rubbed his chin, “our clients said this activity was new.”

”The activity may be new, but she isn’t.” Y/N now stood by the vanity, lightly trailing their fingertips across the assorted beauty products, jewelry, and papers strewn across the surface. “She stayed back to be with her husband, at first…but now that he’s gone…”

Ray nodded sympathetically, “she doesn’t know how to move on.”

Y/N opened a small drawer with a sigh, picked up an envelope, and gently pulled out a yellowed piece of paper.

”She wrote it for her husband.” Y/N’s eyes scanned the letter. Before long, a tear fell down their cheek and they folded the letter up before reaching back into the envelope and pulling out a small ring.

Y/N slipped both the letter and the ring back into the envelope, wiped the tear from their cheek, and turned to Ray, handing him the letter.

”Here,” their voice sounded small, like they were taking on the pain of the spirit, “you’ll have to burn it…hopefully she can find him.”

Ray silently followed them out of the room, out of the house, and back into the car. Peter was asking Y/N and Ray a new question every other second, but Ray simply brushed him off as Y/N rested their head on the window, looking drained.

The rest of the drive was quiet, and Ray offered to walk Y/N to their apartment upon arrival. He shot Peter a look, silently letting him know to not follow.

The silence continued the whole way to their door, where Y/N cleared their throat and looked at Ray. “Thank you for walking me.”

”It’s no problem,” Ray smiled and stuffed his hands in his pockets, rocking slightly on his heels, “it really affects you, doesn’t it?”

Y/N sighed, looking down at their hands, suddenly very interested in the rings adorning their fingers.

”Only sometimes,” Y/N sighed again, “when I’m too empathetic for my own good. I just couldn’t imagine…being left behind like that.”

Ray reached out to lightly grasp their upper arm. “Well, hey…at least there’s folks like you here to help those left behind, right?”

”Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Y/N met his gaze, “thanks, Ray, really.”

”Anytime.” Ray gave their arm a light squeeze and dropped his hand to his side.

Neither of them moved to retreat.

”Well…I’ll let you get back to your work.” A slight blush powdered Y/N’s cheeks, and they suddenly felt embarrassment blooming in their chest.

Before the door could close between them, however, Ray stepped forward.

”Wait!” He blurted, feeling an embarrassment of his own creeping in. “Can I…see you again?”

Y/N gave him that warm smile that made him feel like they were the only two people on Earth.

”You know where to find me.”

Ray lingered at their door for a moment after it closed, feeling light, before retreating back to the car.

”Oh, no!” Peter cried out as Ray slid into the driver’s seat. “I know that look! Don’t tell me you’re gonna start bringing them around on a regular basis—I do not need any more spirits airing out my business.”

Egon cut in from the backseat, “I, for one, would enjoy hearing more of what Bill has to say.”

”Well I never want to hear from Bill ever again,” Peter gave Ray a serious look, “Oh, don’t smile, Ray. It’s a serious breach of privacy. You can’t expect me to—“

Ray turned up the radio, drowning out Peter’s wailings.

He drove into the night, the smile never leaving his face.

#ghostbusters #ray stantz #peter venkman #egon spengler #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters fanfiction #ghostbusters fic #ray stantz x reader #ray stantz fic #ghostbusters fanfic

77 notes · View notes

prettyboykatsuki-moved · 4 months ago

Note

even tho you dk him yet,, caleb 🙂‍↕️

here we go pre-emptive sex taste typology with mr siscon yan cyborg

also no direct incest but just assume its implied w him which is why i tag w psuedocest

disclaimer for all that with the exception of zayne i really only barely know these men. at least im only semi-confident (read: barely) in writing for them. that is part of the fun.

of them, i know the least about caleb aside from what ive absorbed via osmosis. and sylus

my opinion of this guys sexual preferences is very mixed fyi. i havent met him and have not spoiled the story for myself yet so . you know.

none of this is meant to be accurate DSJFHJKSD !!!!!!

to me he feels like a service top. if he were like normaler i would categorize him a very giving lover in general but he's got soooo many issues. still, i dont think this part of him really goes away KJDSHKJD. i just don't think he is kind about being one later on if u will ?

you're usually the one getting pleasured and doing the receiving but it's not out magnanimity but more like he is trying to prove a point to you by manipulating your body. id substantiate a guess that his desire from control comes form other fear of not wanting to lose u like most of the other men in the game lol

for kinks.........maybe sensory deprivation like blindfolding and corporal punishment but not so much it borders into complete sadism. a fan of spanking. also i do not go here so this is said rather unbiased but i think that man has a somewhat subconscious breeding kink perhaps.

though its less in how i think like. another character would have it and more in the effort to corrupt the idea of family you have between you. something something him cumming in you while you refer to him as gege etc. but he also just seems like he'd want to go bareback at all times even in a vanilla like... actual older brother context. again i do not rlly having a breeding kink. game just recognizes game.

he's in general obsessed with marking you in some manner or fashion for exactly the reason you think but i think just manifests w breeding yk.

hm. probably also likes being fully clothed while your naked. vulnerability, control, complete access etc.

i think he gets off on embarrassing you and probably has since you were a lot younger but it becomes very ugly later on lol. once again if he were normaler i think it'd just be him like...making you beg for it in bed but its much weirder now. enjoys putting his thumb in your mouth for a weird reason as well

likes inspection maybe. thats really just me guessing though. based on vibes.

i think for now this is all i have got. i dont know this man so until i learn his character motivations this as much as i can cook for you guys. if u can without spoiling tell me my accuracy rate that would v funny

#return to sender #psuedocest cw #a.caleb #ask to tag #incest cw

55 notes · View notes

blue-jisungs · 6 months ago

Text

save you

[ song inspo ! ] save you by yuta

[ author’s note ! ] fun fact!! originally i was inspired by the song... mamushi by meg n yuki chiba LMAO just uh, the line "we are stars" .. i was like,, hell yee, singer power couple yuta n yn! but then yutas solo came out n i uh,,,, yeah, it took a turn. also im really happy w this one hehe <3

[ summary ! ] you decided to prioritize your career. a selfish gesture to do, yuta thought. but in the end... was it?

[ extras ! ] idol!yuta, idol!yn; angst-y/hurt2comfort kinda ? some medical stuff but dont quote me on the accuracy, any med nerds feel free to hmu if something is not right!

[ word count ! ] 1831

“we need to talk”

those words, oh those horrific words that yuta hoped would never come out of your mouth, struck him like a lighting.

you were serious, not a single hinge of a positive sign on your face.

your boyfriend stood still, frozen in time. astoundingly, his heart was racing like a mclaren on a highway. before the ringing in his ears got to his brain, he tried to gaslight himself into thinking it’s nothing serious. such simple words should not impact him that much. and yet…

“did something happen?” he asked, reaching his hand out. you were standing in the doorway, hesitating to come in.

“i just… i need you to listen to me” you started softly, fiddling with the strings of your hoodie. yuta knew you like the back of his own hand, he knew you’re nervous.

“i’m breaking up with you”

the whole world stopped, including his breath. eyes widening, lips parting and opening in a shocked motion.

“what?” he breathed out shakily, brows furrowed.

“it’s not you, yuta. it’s me. i… god, i’m such an asshole but you need to understand. you’re a singer too” you carefully picked your words, as if you practiced million times beforehand. “i need to focus on my career. and maybe it’s also… i have this feeling that i’m only shining because of your light. it’s eating me up alive”

“are you kidding me?” yuta blinked, mind resisting what you just said.

“i’m sorry, i know you’ll hate me. and there’s nothing wrong with you, i love and will love you. i just need to be alone” pearly tears balanced at the edge of your waterline, threatening to spill out, but you quickly wiped them. because of that you smeared a bit of your mascara. your voice was barely above a whisper from the beginning to the end. “you have the right to be furious, to be mad. i get it. so i’ll keep going. i just… i’m sorry, yuta. it’s about me, i need to be selfish this one time”

there was a hint of begging in your voice, this kind of sadness that one has when facing their biggest fear. but yuta was too blinded by a whole hurricane of emotions to notice.

it’s been a year since that night and yuta can still clearly recall this memory. despite having more positive memories with you, this one always plays in his head whenever he sees your face. you released two albums, with one debuting last week number one almost everywhere. the public knew you were dating, since the company put a statement about it. however, they did not say anything about your breakup.

so often people that haven’t seen him in a while would congratulate you through him. each time ending with a sour expression on yuta’s face.

he wanted to reach out but all his friends told him not to (“give it a rest” johnny nagged “clearly she doesn’t give a shit about you”).

but the more time passed by, the more sleepless nights spent in deep thought, yuta realized maybe there was another reason. maybe…

“don’t overthink it, that’s how life works. i’m sorry man, she clearly loved you. but you’re in this business too, you know how it is” jaehyun would pat his back with a soft smile.

maybe they were right, maybe it was his heart after all that never came to an agreement with your decision.

he even texted you a couple of times, always meeting with his messages only being seen.

“it’s time to let go, yuta. it’s been a year” taeyong’s advice is always the best, in the end.

“l/n y/n to end her career! the singer didn’t state a reason, only leaving a long apology letter behind for her fans!”

yuta’s heart halted, feeling as if a freezing icicle ripped through the muscle.

first of all, he was genuinely shocked.

second of all, he was worried. you left him to pursue your career and now you’re… leaving? was it all pointless?

as your ex boyfriend (god, that still sounded strange to him) and as an artist himself, he felt like something was not right. he truly wished the best for you and now… you’re quitting?

no one seemed to know what’s up – a massive flood of both hate and sad comments on the internet. twitter was filled with conspiracy theories (like, you flopped or you two broke up – which wasn’t wrong, necessarily. but it wasn’t also fully correct).

yuta knew he had to find out what’s going on. if you’re doing okay. not knowing whether meeting you will only make things worse or better, the only thing he was certain about was facing it.

the sound of doorbell caused you to stir awake from your nap. you rubbed your eyes and stood up, hoping it’s the takeout you ordered.

your living room was covered in darkness, blindfolds rolled all the way down. sure, you were tripping all the time but that way you didn’t have to fight with the mess you made.

you opened the door, leaning to grab the paper bag but instead, your head bumped into something.

you huffed, looking up. you clearly left a message on the order to leave it on the doorstep because…

yuta.

“y/n”

you gasped, ready to close the door. but his foot sliding between the doorframe prevented you from doing so.

you two stared at each other in silence, both analyzing the other’s appearance.

him, red hair stylishly falling on his forehead. he had his loose clothes on, a leather jacket thrown on a grey hoodie. he looked… well. healthy. as if your breakup never happened.

and you… greasy hair, pajamas that you’ve been wearing for the past – god knows how many – days, deep circles under your puffy eyes.

“is everything okay?” yuta had the courage to speak up first, genuine worry in his voice.

you could see he was fighting with emotions on the inside.

opening your mouth and closing it, you wanted to say it.

instead, tears pricked your eyes.

your ex was the first person to ask you that question ever since you dropped the announcement. ironic, isn’t it?

you started hyperventilating, wanting to scream it all out.

“hey, it’s okay. talk to me” he said gently and watched in terror how your face twisted with sadness, pearly tears rolling down your cheeks “hey, y/n…”

you jolted forward and hugged him, arms tightly wrapping around his waist. at first, he wasn’t sure.

code red was booming in his mind, knowing that there’s going to be no way back. but his heart knew he has to be there for you. he has to be the one to comfort you.

so he did, letting you cry everything out. gently holding you, swaying back and fourth. just like he always used to.

just when he felt you calming down, breathing becoming more stable, he leaned away with his hands still on your hips.

“we need to talk”

hah.

now that was ironic due to two reasons.

you nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to come in. yuta did.

he felt a stench of rotten food and dirty clothes. your place was soaking in darkness… not a natural one, it was still sunny outside. anxiety rushed over his body. things are certainly not right.

you sighed deeply and ran your fingers through your hair, thinking.

then, you lead him into your bedroom.

quickly putting the blindfolds up and then sweeping the piles of clothes off your bed, you had to squint your eyes. you had to adjust for the natural lighting.

you felt yuta’s burning gaze on you.

with a heavy heart, you pulled out your phone.

“i’m worried. i have my own challenges and struggles but i feel like you need saving more than me” he hummed softly, ebony eyes scanning you with a tender gaze.

he saw you swallow hardly, typing something. then, you turned your phone around with tears pooling in your eyes once again.

the note read: “i lost my voice permanently”

his heart dropped, breathing coming to a halt.

“what?” his head is spinning, panic settling in. that’s a horror for a singer.

you nodded and added something else.

“i got aphonia. i recently had laryngitis, it disappeared and then appeared again. and so on. until one day it didn’t go away. but my doctor warned me beforehand that this may happen”

yuta closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to reject it. he heard of those illnesses, of course he did. his vocal coach mentioned them but also said that they are very rare, often affecting only 0.4% of the people between ages of 14 and 35.

but he didn’t think… out of all people… it would be you.

he opened his eyes, wanting to say something… anything. no words came out, his throat feeling as if someone held it with an iron grip.

you switched to another note. he looked at the date and his eyes widened upon realizing.

the day before you broke up with him. you already knew, you had it prewritten.

“i thought this day would come and you know how much of an overthinker i am. maybe it’s good i lost my voice because i wouldn’t be able to say it out loud without my voice breaking.

yuta, i wanted to break up with you to save you from pain. i didn’t want you to see me struggle, to see me rot inside because im not able to do what is my passion.

i knew i’d lose my voice sooner or later and wanted to record one or two last albums before i wouldn’t be able to. i wanted to put all my heart in, i knew i had to focus. and spare you pain.

i’m sorry. i know i ended up hurting you nevertheless. it was inevitable

maybe you wou”

the last word was clearly stopped halfway, a thought escaping you.

just when he finished reading, he realized you’re crying again.

everything clicked suddenly, like a puzzle. why were you whispering when you broke up with him, that you did it so he wouldn’t see you suffer. so your decision was just a cover and it wasn’t selfish after all, no. it was the complete opposite.

“it’s alright, it’s alright” yuta said, stepping closer. he wrapped arms around you, pressing your head to his chest gently. the drum of his heart made you shake… you missed that sound “i’ll save you. we’ll go to different doctors. there has to be a cure–”

he wasn’t able to finish because you just shook your head with a loud sniff. “i’ll be here for you now”

you felt weak. like a burden.

“we’ve got this” yuta whispered, a bittersweet feeling in his heart. he hated seeing you in pain, especially such a big one. but now it was his turn to be selfless and help you, save you; love you.

nct m. list | event m. list

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @w3bqrl ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua,, @rubywonu

143 notes · View notes

80pairsofcrocs · 1 month ago

Text

baby scarab || 69

A/N : nice

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

A/N : okay so like- im kinda back into it?? college is going great and i think im out of my depression era so HEY GUYS!!!!!!

please enjoy, and don't be shy if you want to be in the taglist, just ask <3, sorry for the long wait

pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic) reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader, jake lockley x (platonic)reader, casper hart(OC) x reader

TW : medicine (pills), spidey stuff, mentions of violence, language, multiverse nonsense, nothing makes sense, making multiverse friends, bad words, reuniting, and then a call from casper, let me know if i missed anything

~~~

Saying incoherently, 'motherfucker- where am I now…?' You quickly look about, attempting to figure out where you are, while muttering to yourself.

The enormous windows letting sunlight into the large room add to the luxury surroundings, which give the image of a sumptuous mansion. Your eyes linger on the immaculate couches, which appear to have been sat on very little, if at all.

Once you hear footsteps approaching, you become apprehensive and go quickly behind one of the soft furnishings.

Out of sight, your heart thumping in the stillness, your pulse accelerating with every second. Your unexpected arrival in this opulent home is made more mysterious by the obvious tension in the air.

Looking out from where you are, you see a man entering the kitchen, which is connected to the living room where you are now standing. If you look attentively at him, you can see that he looks tired and worn out, which is confirmed when he carefully pours himself a drink at the counter.

Your expression becomes confused when you see him turn around and hold the glass to his lips while sipping from it.

A sardonic grin appears on your face as you imagine this figure to be someone you know, particularly your dads, but with a hilarious twist—somehow, like your father if he were to be bald.

A surprising scene unfolds in front of you as you stand in the peaceful calm of the moment, adding a lovely whimsical touch to the tense atmosphere that surrounds you.

A rush of bewilderment swept over you as you furrowed your brows, filling your head with doubts about who the person in front of you was. There was an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach as you continued to wonder who you were actually staring at.

But as soon as your eyes locked with his, you felt a tremendous wave of familiarity, and everything came to you with a startling clarity.

The world appeared to stop for a moment as he gave you the look in return, his eyes meeting yours with a fierce, unblinking intensity.

You were immobile, your body almost automatically hiding behind the couch's protection, as though it were trying to escape the severity of what was happening to you.

Time seemed to have stopped, trapping you in that instant of realization and bewilderment, a precarious equilibrium between awareness and fear.

Each detail was sharply engraved into your mind, belying the strange nature of the event, as the scene unfolded like a tableau.

And you couldn't help but ponder about the ramifications of this unexpected encounter as you stayed motionless, concealed behind the couch.

He arched an eyebrow and said, "Now what are you doing here in my home, girly?" in a little suspicious tone. The puzzled look on your face grew deeper as he sipped his drink slowly, and you began to feel uneasy.

You got to your feet gingerly, your palms up in a sign of submission, not knowing how to answer his surprise query in such a strange place.

As she looked about the room, she carefully remarked, "I don't mean to intrude," her words tinged with worry.

The man said, "That's not what it looks like." Grinning subtly, he retrieved a stylish smartphone from his pocket and quickly dialed three numbers with well-honed accuracy.

You exhale a long sigh of resignation and set out into the unknown depths of the next dimension.

~~~

After exhausting all other options, Jake and Layla spent the night in a nearby homeless shelter. The warm, compassionate vibes emanating from the very friendly women who worked there welcomed their weary eyes as they entered the institution.

These kind hearted people embraced Jake and Layla, providing them with more than just short-term housing—they gave them hope at a period of uncertainty.

In contrast to the chilly streets they had explored hours earlier, the women showed them to their own beds, which were modest but comfortable places to sleep.

The shelter volunteers carefully prepared a warm dinner for them to eat, which the two avatars were extremely grateful for.

Having found an ally in their cause, Jake let out a sigh of relief as he continued to shovel food into his mouth.

He muttered, "I'm glad we have someone on our side," in between mouthfuls. Layla smirked as she pointed out the truth of their predicament in her incisive answer.

She questioned, "You mean underpaid women from another universe?" The weight they carried on their shoulders weighed heavily in the air, reminding them of their predicament despite their casual joking.

Jake rolls his eyes at his companion's casual remark, experiencing a wave of annoyance. The only sound to accompany their shared dinner is the clinking of cutlery as they both discreetly return to their own meals while the tension lingers in the air.

After standing apprehensively, Layla eventually found the confidence to ask her query. "Can I see Marc?" Her voice, which was a mixture of anxiety and longing, was hardly audible above a whisper.

At her request, Jake's stern face softened a little, his features loosening as he gave her request some thought. He nodded gently and agreed, but not before reminding her, "Just keep it PG, alright?"

“You’re such an ass, Jake.”

~~~

The strange experience of seeing your dad's doppelgängers, each of whom seemed as a different person, started to have a profound impact on you as you traveled through one universe after another.

The weight of this phenomena increased with every new experience, settling you with a sensation of uncertainty and uneasiness.

You were left feeling increasingly confused and emotionally strained as a result of these frequent glimpses of various incarnations of a familiar face, which made it difficult to distinguish between the actual world and the fantastical.

After seeing the hardships of a struggling musician, meeting a promiscuous man, meeting a dignified duke, discovering a group involved in questionable activities, and ending up stranded in a spacecraft, you are now alone with nothing to keep you company but the cold metal floor below you, your head in your hands, and you are thinking back on the series of events that brought you to this lonely moment.

Anxiety gnawed at you as you thought about the new version of your father appearing eventually.

What if there was a dark side to this current version of him, turning him into a villain? The very idea of people wearing your father's face doing evil things made you sick.

You felt a discordant chord when you witnessed familiar features contrasted with abhorrent behavior.

You startle out of your deep thought as a succession of gentle beeps abruptly disturb the silence, causing you to flinch a little.

Up until the sudden sound, you had been so engrossed in your thoughts that you had been totally oblivious to your surroundings. It was like a trance being broken and brought back to reality.

When the noise's origin finally dawns on you, you turn to see an odd sight next to you. In front of you was a small, round, seemingly innocuous robotic figure.

Despite being mechanical, its face—or what may be called a face—looked strangely adorable. Its appeal was only enhanced by the fine intricacies in its design.

Once again, the robot beeps playfully before carefully approaching the spot where you were sitting. As you watched it move with a mixture of interest and laughter, you couldn't help but wonder what it was doing.

Did it have a more sophisticated intelligence than its cute looks, or was it just programmed to engage with onlookers?

You were charmed by the innocent manner of the small robot as it rolled closer to you. It seemed to be requesting your attention, a quiet plea for company.

Despite your first astonishment, you and this endearing creation started to feel warm and connected.

The metallic creature appears to be pulled to your outstretched hand as you sit there in wonder, your eyes focused on the tiny robot before you hesitantly extend a hand towards it, beeping a succession of happy melodies like a symphony of excitement.

As you watch the tiny mechanical wonder zigzagging across the surface, its beeps blending with the faint but distinct sound of its sirens, a gentle exhale from your lips and your body eases into a more comfortable position.

You remark gently, "If you're trying to talk to me, I can't understand you," with a hint of regret in your voice.

A dejected smile lights up your face, lending the situation a hint of melancholy. The bot, seeming almost bewildered, cautiously approaches you, its mechanical motions a little clumsy as it unintentionally strikes the tip of your shoe.

But when you observe the bot's attempt to interact with you, you have a warm look on your face that combines humor and compassion.

Grinning broadly, you extend your hand again, your fingers following the fine ridges and ridges of the metal, a motion that is at once tender and inquisitive.

You firmly declare, "I don't speak robot," as you face the circular bot in front of you with your arms crossed.

Unaffected by your comments, the mechanical thing beeps once and then turns dutifully in the direction of the approaching footfall from outside in the long narrow hallway.

"BB-8, now's not the time to be playing hide and seek," When he notices you sitting on the floor, a man's voice stops its feverish whispering.

With a tired sigh, you anticipate the man's next move and begin your introduction before he can say anything.

The familiar phrases flow naturally from your lips as you dive into your practiced speech with a sense of urgency.

"My name is y/n Spector-Grant-Lockley-El Fouly, and I want you to know that I'm not here to hurt you, violate your privacy, or take anything from you. I'm from a different universe. Finding my dads is the only reason I'm here"

“…Okay.”

Raising your head, you see a mirrored version of your own father standing in front of you, and a wave of déjà vu passes over you. Although his face is an exact clone of your dad's typically composed manner, there is a little intensity in his eyes that permeates the atmosphere.

"Okay?" you repeat, the word weighing heavily on the air between you with unanswered questions. You feel a change in the air, a tension that wasn't there previously, as though this meeting has more meaning than you initially realize.

You find yourself reaching for words to break the spell as the quiet lingers, pregnant with meanings that cannot be expressed. At last, you are able to express your perplexity, "That's it?"

"Well, you know, my friend here is really picky about introductions. He doesn't just let them in." He shrugged nonchalantly as he watched his robotic companion walk in a slow circle around his legs.

"Plus, it seems like you've had a long day and might not have the energy to make a bad impression," he said.

You found yourself letting out another weary sigh as the fatigue began to set in again. You leaned your head back against the cool wall behind you and closed your eyes for a while, reliving the day's events.

With an inquisitive yet amiable gaze, the man crouchs away from you. He mutters, "Maybe the reason people are thrown off is because you have a million last names," almost amused.

You gently turn, meeting his gaze with a small smile on the corners of your lips. "Maybe," you answer, your eyes sparkling with amusement, "So... I don't understand what your robot is saying. He was introducing himself, right?”

You stoop a little, curious to see what the robot is trying to tell you, curious to understand the mechanical entity's attempt at communication.

There was a glimmer of joy in his eyes as he nodded. He responded, "Yeah, his name is BB-8," in an admiring tone. He proudly clarified, "And he's not just any ordinary robot, he's a droid,"

He shook his head in dissent when asked if a robot and a droid were the same thing. He explained, "No, they are quite different," eager to impart his expertise.

In the reality of this world, there was no doubt about the difference between the two: a droid was made for a specific purpose and had sophisticated technological capabilities, but a robot was just a machine.

As you return your focus to the droid in front of you, you hear a quiet "hm" slip out of your mouth.

Despite the droid's absence of facial expressions, you try to project warmth by smiling softly and saying, "It's nice to meet you then." As a sign of its friendliness, BB-8 replies with a string of upbeat beeps and whistles.

You laugh at the droid's amusing antics as it scurries around with excitement and bumps into your shoe once more.

"Oh, and my name is Poe." The man greets you with a warm smile and holds out his hand for a handshake. "Poe Dameron."

His solid grasp gives you a pleasant sense of kinship as you return the gesture. Poe smiles and gives you a hand up after you exchange names. His manner conveys a combination of assurance and sincere goodwill.

"so.. another universe, huh?" You nod as he leads you out of the tiny space.

"Yes, how come you're handling this so well?" Unable to understand how he seems so calm in the face of such mind-bending revelations, his posture unflinching in the face of the remarkable, you ask, your voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and wonder, and he answers with a calm smile.

Poe lifts his shoulders a little before he speaks, his demeanor casual. "You know, I have this friend that does the most amazing things that leave you speechless. In addition, there are a billion galaxies in the huge, mind-blowing region in which we exist. In light of all of that, the notion that there are several universes doesn't seem all that absurd, does it?” He explains dramatically.

Based on your facial expression, which verges on admiration, you ponder his remarks for a while. "Well, that's.. interesting. It feels oddly comforting if you think about it that way.”

When he says, "Well, I'm going to get you two could meet; I have a feeling that she might be able to provide some valuable assistance or guidance to you in one way or another," he holds the door open with a kind smile on his face, showing that he is willing to help you meet the person he thinks could be able to help in some way or offer insightful advice.

You say, "Huh, I guess this universe doesn't completely suck," as a smile spreads across your face and a gleam of hope and optimism sparkles in your eyes.

The comforting reply, "Ah, you'd be surprised," has a tinge of mystery about it, as though they have a secret that could permanently alter your viewpoint.

~~~

Poe had introduced you to a courageous man named Finn and a kind woman named Rey.

According to the description, Rey had a strange power called "the force," the full scope of which you were never told. Poe suggested that Rey might be able to access your mind and provide direction for your future path. Conversely, Finn radiated a feeling of unflinching loyalty and calm power.

You could not help but feel a sense of wonder and eagerness growing within you as you watched their exchanges and sensed their unsaid connection.

You are currently following Rey's instructions and practicing meditation, despite the difficulty posed by your dimension-changing-bracelet-things lack of direction. I

It's an intriguing contrast to be using a technique that doesn't offer a clear path to navigate through the unknown, but here you are, accepting the peace of meditation as a means of self-centering.

"Take a moment to clear your mind, y/n," Rey says in a soothing voice that reverberates across the space. Sitting across from you, she looks up at you with a calm expression on her face.

Around the ship, Poe, Finn, and BB-8 are all busy with different chores. With a gleam of hope in her eyes, she adds, "If you focus, you might find a newfound ability within yourself. Imagine utilizing your watch to precisely locate the whereabouts of your parents and then embarking on a journey to reunite with them."

With a sense of adventure and potential, the suggestion remains in the air. It seems as though Rey's words have given you a sense of resolve and unlocked a world of limitless possibilities.

With a trace of amusement dancing in your voice, you jokingly say, "You sound like Khonshu. All mysterious and cryptic." You like the comparison, as seen by the slight smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth.

Rey furrows her brow, obviously perplexed by your allusion. "What's a Khonshu?" she asks, intrigued by the strange moniker.

Though he is your honorary grandfather, you pause for a time, wondering how to describe the mysterious character of Khonshu, a man enshrouded in old stories and traditions.

But after a moment of hesitation, you just shake your head and respond with a little, sardonic smile, "...nevermind."

She looks at you with an eyebrow up, and there's a hint of suspicion in her face that makes you blink and open your eyes again without realizing it, a faint shivering running down your back.

The y/n-tingle that had briefly been under your skin now starts to get stronger, takes the form of a tingling sensation that prickles and tingles, and you move slightly under her examining gaze.

"..well anyways," she began in a gentle and comforting tone, "I could try to access your subconscious mind to find out where your parents are," she said swiftly, "of course, only if you are comfortable with that."

A look of concern and resolve flashed over her eyes as she delicately reached her hands towards your temples.

After giving it a moment to stew, you nodded firmly, stating that you would stop at nothing to be with your loved ones again, your need for their company intense.

You felt reassured and at ease when you saw Rey's warm smile. She softly said, "Take a deep breath and let go of any tension, just unwind and have faith that everything will work out. It won't take long, so there's no reason to resist."

Sensing the warmth of her words, you obeyed and closed your eyes, following Rey's instructions to take a deep breath and let go of any anxiety that was bothering you.

You experience a slow detachment as though your consciousness is floating away, putting you in a state of mental suspension while Rey looks for hints to find your parents' auras.

Your senses are overloaded with glimpses of the past and feelings as memories begin to flood in, racing across your mind at breakneck speed. Each memory flashes vividly before blending into the next, creating a mental tornado due to the intensity of the rush of memories.

In the midst of this swirl of memories, Rey's attention becomes more acute, searching the area for anything of importance that would point her in the direction of your parents' auras.

As she carefully and purposefully gathers each clue, assembling the jigsaw with a resolute determination, the urgency of her search grows.

As the link between the memories and Rey's search gradually becomes apparent, you experience a growing sense of expectancy, a mixture of thrill and fear.

The sensations and pictures that surround you act as a portal, revealing secrets and solving the enigma surrounding your past.

As time goes on, the overlapping stories of your recollections and Rey's objective come together, gradually entangling you in the mysterious web of your entwined fate.

As they observed you both, Poe and Finn exchanged nervous looks, a tinge of concern showing on their faces.

The robot, BB-8, came toward you warily, its whirls and beeps indicating its anxiety. It made a modest, almost tentative, tilting motion with its dome, one that suggested uneasiness.

Poe came forward, his tone gentle as he sought to console the little droid, assuring it that everything was alright.

The room appeared to come alive with a new vitality as you gasped, and Rey pulled her hands away from yours. You both returned to the present after the brief period of connection and shared trance you had entered together. Y

you both felt a sense of success and a growing bond as Rey's concentrated attempt to find the auras of your lost parents came to an end.

"He looks exactly like—" Rey interrupts herself, leaving her statement unfinished.

You murmur, "I know... it's confusing," as the burden of the bewildering circumstance begins to weigh on you.

As a physical expression of the cerebral tiredness brought on by attempting to make sense of the chaos of information racing through your head, your fingers automatically reach up to rub your weary eyes.

Finn raised his voice in a curious tone, asking for clarification. "Who looks like what?" he inquired, showing interest and a wish to learn more about the circumstances.

With a warm smile in return, Rey got up right away and reached out to help you up. She smiled and said, "Congratulations, Poe," as if to say something remarkable. "You're a father in another universe," she said.

Surprised by the unexpected information, Poe chuckled a little while seeming to be amused and incredulous.

"Nuh uh," he answered, his tone displaying a mix of suspicion and laughter at the lighthearted conversation taking place all around him.

Rey looks at him. She thinks, "Oh, in this poor little girl's world, her father—well, fathers are just like you." She turns back to you again. “I wonder where the other version of her is in this case."

When you cocked your head in thought, a trace of bewilderment appeared on your face, as though you were attempting to solve a difficult puzzle.

With a faint smile pulling at the edges of your lips, you asked, "Maybe I'm one of a kind...?" Your face was a mixture of playfulness and uncertainty.

Rey, wearing a knowing smirk, couldn't resist rolling her eyes in amusement at your contemplation. She said, "Believe what you must, child," with a hint of mild humor, expressing her acceptance of your distinct viewpoint and originality.

Finn's face twists in confusion as he becomes aware of how different you are from Poe "But y'all don't look alike," he says honestly.

"I'm adopted," you reply nonchalantly. Finn's face brightens with comprehension when his eyes enlarge in shock.

"Oh, congratulations, no shit!" He cheerfully holds out his hand, giving you a congratulatory high five and a kind grin that suggests he understands and appreciates the special circumstances of your adoption.

Rey looks at Finn, her face screaming for him to go back to the work at hand. She emphasizes the value of staying on course by asking, "Can we please get back to business?" with a trace of aggressiveness in her voice.

Seeing the sincerity in Rey's eyes, Finn becomes clearly deflated, as if he was a kicked puppy. An apologetic "Yeah, yeah, sorry mom," he murmurs.

Rey slowly looks back at you, her eyes displaying a mix of resolve and hesitancy. She confesses quietly, "I know where they are, relatively speaking," with a note of cautious optimism in her voice.

She says, "I can certainly assist you in an attempt to pinpoint their location on your helpful little device," in a confident yet realistic tone. But a veil of doubt dampens her prior zeal, and she pauses before continuing.

Rey looks at you and says, "But, I must be honest with you - there's no guarantee that our efforts will yield success," with a hint of grief in her eyes as she makes a silent appeal for your understanding.

You grin at the three people in front of you with a heartfelt look of thanks, astonished by the magnitude of their assistance.

You sincerely say, "You guys have truly made a difference.. beyond what I can put into words - I am so grateful for everything," with a determined heart. The trio smiles back at you, kindness and understanding reflected in their eyes.

Poe says, "We hope that you find your way back home safely, kiddo," in a tone that is comforting and caring.

Playfully prodding your shoe again, the droid rolls around to you with a subtle whir, its sleek metallic shell shining under the warm glow of the overhead lights. A warm sensation blossoms in your chest as you watch its charming conduct, and you can't help but laugh at its funny antics.

"You're a good droid," you whisper lovingly, appreciating how it reacts to your compliment. With a succession of joyful beeps, the droid's mechanical voice is filled with what can only be described as contentment.

Then, with a feeling of purpose in its movements, it glides back over to Poe.

With a kind grin on her face, Rey takes your hands in hers and clasps them tenderly, a gesture that conveys comfort and certainty. With a gentle yet eager tone, she asks, "Are you ready?"

With a determined expression in your eyes, you slowly nod in agreement, saying, "Yes, I am ready to find my family and go back home where I belong." You feel excited and full of optimism when you consider getting back together with your loved ones.

~~~

Thanks to the generous assistance of the committed women at the homeless shelter, Marc and Layla had thankfully accepted the healing power of a restful night's sleep, thanking them profusely before saying goodbye and moving on.

They were unaware that the situation they were in appeared to be unsolvable; confronted with a being that was a sinister reflection of themselves, they were unable to come up with a clear solution.

Even though the situation was unsettling, going home seemed as out of the question as facing this evil doppelgänger.

The pair, in search of peace and clarity, took refuge in the peaceful haven of a little pond, which reminded them of a happy day in your world when a mischievous duck escaped into your custody and was hidden inside your jacket.

"Do you think she's okay?" As she waits for Marc's answer, Layla asks, turning to face him with anxiety in her eyes.

"I think she's fine... knowing her, she's probably out there trying to find us, making sure we're safe," Marc responds after letting out a long sigh. You always put other people before yourself; that's just the type of person you are.

With pride visible in her features, Layla nods in accord, her countenance softening. She smiles and says, "That's our girl," her voice full of tenderness and respect for their brave and kind daughter.

With a slight furrow of his brow, Marc appears almost hesitant as he carefully considers his words before finally mustering up the courage to ask Layla, “Our..?"

Layla nods gently in response, her eyes full of love and comprehension. "Yes, our. It's something that's expressed on paper as well as deep within our emotions," she says quietly.

Marc's expression softens, a mixture of tenderness and regret flickering across his features as he struggles to find the right words.

"Well, I had been hoping for a more opportune moment to ask you again, a moment that would be more fitting for what I have in mind, but circumstances have a way of guiding us to unexpected places," he says with an air of anxiety.

"Shut up, Marc," Layla mumbled to herself, her displeasure palpable as she dug further into her pockets, the fabric rustling with every swipe.

Marc shifted uneasily, a scowl tarnishing his features as he sensed the stress coming from Layla.

"You could've just said no-" Marc opened his mouth to say something, but Layla cut him off with a sudden motion, her hand now coming out of her pocket and firmly gripping a small object.

Exasperated yet loving at the same time, she reached out to him and held a tiny ring in her hand.

"I was supposed to ask you this time, stupid," Layla started hopefully at Marc, her tone softening, a tinge of humor in her remarks.

Marc's first line of defense vanished as the revelation hit him, and he could feel the strain from the earlier denial leaving his shoulders as they relaxed. They exchanged a knowing glance that went beyond words, and their wordless connection spoke a great deal about the moment's significance.

With a flash of anxious excitement in his eyes, he takes out his own ring and shows it to Layla. A broad smile appears on his face as he playfully teases her, saying, “So ask then, dummy."

His cheekiness takes Layla by surprise, and she responds by giving him a playful yet loving slap on the head. "Marry me." she declares, her eyes sparkling.

The moment lingers as Marc nods eagerly in response while experiencing a wave of emotions. They exchange rings, each putting the mark of their love onto the other's finger in a charming and personal gesture.

As they sit together, unified in their dedication and newly discovered delight, relishing the unique link they've just cemented via their joint promise of forever, the weight of the moment is evident.

With tears in his eyes, Marc took a deep breath before starting to speak, his voice heavy with regret.

"I understand now, Layla. I was cruel to you, treated you poorly, and for that, I was a bad person," he confessed. "I'm truly thankful that Y/N helped reunite us." His words softened as he turned to Layla, expressing his deepest desires.

"I long to continue this journey of parenthood with you by my side, Layla. I cherish the thought of parenting our daughter together, and I hope you can find it in your heart to be my wife once more," he whispered, the weight of his plea hanging in the air.

Layla's touch was gentle as she raised her hand to lovingly cradle Marc's face, a tender gesture that spoke volumes of empathy and understanding. "You were dealt an unfair hand, Marc," she began softly, her voice tinged with sorrow and regret.

"You let the anger and grief consume you, and I blame myself partially for not being there to guide you through those dark moments." With a sense of reassurance in her tone, she continued, "But know that you have found redemption in the face of adversity. Yes, you've done things you're not proud of, but a significant portion of the blame lies with Khonshu."

A bittersweet chuckle escaped her lips, carrying a mix of amusement and relief, as she added a light-hearted touch to the weight of their conversation.

“I think.. We are both ready to communicate better. Like adults” Layla nods firmly.

As Marc nodded and leaned closer to Layla, their connection was evident in the air, conveying his intense feelings. He whispered softly, "I love you, Layla," the words bearing the weight of his sincere love.

His statement caused Layla's own smile to expand, reflecting the joy and love in her heart. She added earnestly, "I love you too, Marc," her eyes gleaming with affection and tenderness.

Just as the two lovers were about to close the physical gap between them, a strange, humanoid figure suddenly fell into Marc's lap. Marc was startled out of the private moment with a pained groan as he staggered backwards due to the abrupt weight and contact.

The possibility of intimacy between the two was destroyed in that instant, and in its stead came a feeling of perplexity and disbelief at the odd development.

"What the fuck was that!?" Marc, taken aback by the unexpected interruption, shoved the person away with an audible groan that echoed through the air.

"It's Y/N!" Layla came running over to lend a helping hand, reaching out to help you get your bearings, and her voice cut through the chaos with a tone that was both relieved and urgent.

After processing Layla's remarks, Marc's initial disbelief gave way to a rush of awareness and alarm as he realized how serious the situation was.

"What?! Oh my god - Y/N!" he said, his voice becoming softer as he rose to his feet, his movements becoming automatic as he embraced you in a comforting and cozy hug.

The tension from the unexpected meeting slowly subsided as Marc and Layla came together for a moment, their mutual concern for your welfare creating a wall of protection around you.

The three of you stood entwined in a passionate embrace, demonstrating the unshakable tie created by shared concerns and experiences.

Your eyes hunted for answers in the sky until they found Layla as you stood motionless, a sense of incredulity sweeping over you. With a mixture of surprise and hope, you blurted out, "Mom..?"

Layla's comforting nod caused a wave of feelings to wash over you. "Yes- how- how did you find us, honey?" You had long craved the sensation of security that her touch provided.

When the truth of your difficult trip finally set you, the floodgates of emotion opened. Your eyes began to well up with tears as you searched for the perfect words to describe the tumultuous mixture of relief and fatigue that overwhelmed you.

"I- I just..." Those incomplete words carried the weight of your experiences, demonstrating the fortitude you had displayed during your search for your home.

Layla exhaled, her voice trembling with excitement and relief at your return, "you don't have to explain, we- oh my god you're here." Her eyes filled with tears of delight, and she was unable to control the smile that lit up every surface with her genuine happiness.

As a nonverbal expression of love and appreciation for your safe return, she gently kissed your forehead. She then transferred you to Marc, who embraced you with such warmth that it felt like you had returned home after a long journey.

Marc muttered, "Oh my sweet girl," in a tone that was both relieved and loving. "I had a feeling you were coming." His eyes glistened with a range of feelings, expressing the need and love he had experienced while you were away.

Knowing that you were at last back where you belonged, you experienced a wave of calm as you sank into his embrace.

With concern and interest in your voice, you inquired, "How- how long have you been stuck here?"

Marc said, "Only almost two days," his eyes meeting yours with a mix of vulnerability and assurance.

A dramatic change occurs as you are taken off guard by Steven's unexpected hug. His hands gently stroke your face before pressing light kisses all over your face.

"My darling! Oh my god, are you hurt? How did you get here? "How are you feeling?" he blurted out in an anxious tone.

You took hold of Steven's wrists and gently reassured him, "I'm all right, Steven. It's simply a little bit... hard to explain."

As he examined you with worry, a smirk appeared on his lips. "Are you really sure? You're completely covered in dirt.” As you stood in front of him and felt the weight of his love and concern enveloping you in a consoling embrace, his contagious laughter filled the air.

Layla couldn't help but cross her arms in faux disapproval and chastise Steven with a lighthearted smirk. In response, Steven bowed slightly in acceptance of Layla's taunting, but his expression was apologetic.

When Jake became known to the subject at hand, he said, "You're always so brave, hermosa," with adoration in his voice. His touch was warm and reassuring as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

He then asked a useful query, "Just one question though, how are we planning to get home from here?" with a hint of humor.

His look, which was a combination of interest and practicality, highlighted how crucial it was to make sure that the evening's activities ended safely and amicably.

You raise your wrist with a happy smile, showing off the bracelet that has the ability to change your universe.

"Just hold onto me," you command quietly and with assurance. As you follow Strange's previous instructions on how to operate the watch, Jake and Layla obediently hold onto you, their faith in you unshaken.

You three plunge through a swirling gateway as the watch is triggered, its mystic abilities swirling around you. When you finally crash onto the sanctum's well-known grounds, the impact is lessened by your shared unity and connection.

After the turmoil of the trip, the sanctum's aura welcomes you like an old friend, familiar and reassuring.

Stephen's well-known goateed visage towers over you as the three of you slowly stand up, holding a warm mug of tea. "How was your vacation?" he asks in a deep voice, breaking the silence.

“Take this fucking watch back- I’m never traveling the multiverse EVER again because holy shit-“ is your response, as you wrinkle up your face in disgust.

With a knowing gleam in his eye, Stephen laughs and takes the watch. "I completely understand that. Crossing realms may be quite the.. thrill," he says.

"I'm guessing these are the parents?" Stephen asked, breaking the stillness again with a curious expression on his face. He pointed to Jake and Layla in a courteous but curious tone.

Jake firmly takes a step forward and holds out his hand to introduce himself. "Jake Lockley, professional lift services," he declares, his voice tinged with a little pride.

"He’s just a fancy Uber," you say with a smirk.

With his brows knitted in false seriousness, Jake says, "Shut it, or you're grounded," as Stephen laughs and gives Jake an affirming handshake.

"Hey! I just saved your ass!" you snap back, a frown forming on your face, and Layla laughs.

“Ah, tom-ay-to, to-mah-to” He waves you off, a playful expression dancing in his eyes before turning more serious.

With a comforting tone and a sense of achievement in his voice, the mystic artist said, "I think you are ready to go home now."

Your eyes moved to him in appreciation of the direction and attention he had given you during the session. You sincerely said, "Thank you, Dr. Strange," with a kind grin.

"Call me Stephen," he says with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You've truly redeemed my perception of spider people," he teases, a chuckle escaping him softly.

"Really?" you exclaim, your voice tinged with excitement as you lean in, eager for his response.

Stephen takes a moment to savor the anticipation, his gaze thoughtful before replying. "No," he responds, his tone slightly serious yet holding a playful glint. Bringing the cup of tea to his lips, he takes a slow sip, the steam swirling around him in a comforting embrace.

“Ah, so you got jokes,” you chuckle in response, playfully taking your parents’ hands in a lighthearted gesture. “Funny,” you remark with a grin, appreciating the humor in the moment.

As you prepare to leave, the mysterious figure bids you farewell, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue and a touch of respect. “Get home safe now, arachnid,” he calls out, his tone holding a mix of banter and sincerity.

“Nice meeting you, Moon Knight, Scarlet Scarab,” he adds, acknowledging the unique monikers with a sense of camaraderie.

You lead the two through the sanctum's enormous doors, guiding Jake and Layla with a slight tug while navigating their confused expressions towards Stephen's knowledge of their alter egos.

"Yeah.. He does that. You laugh, highlighting the lighthearted aspect of the circumstance, "Don't let it keep you up at night."

You three continue down the silent sidewalk, each step bringing you closer to the comforts of home as the sanctum's doors close behind you and the echoes fade into the night.

There is a secret settlement between you and your parents during the journey back to the apartment, filled with knowing smiles and glances. A sensation of solidarity and togetherness fills the air as you stroll along the sidewalk.

A physical reminder of your connection is provided by the warmth of your clasped hands, a gesture that conveys meaning without using words.

Knowing that you have each other to rely on no matter what obstacles you face gives you strength and comfort during these brief but meaningful moments of closeness.

A sense of satisfaction and solidarity clings as you get closer to your apartment's familiar entrance, indicating that more times of entertaining and affection are to come.

And then, a call from Casper.

~~~

A/N : holy shit guys i did it. im a genius.

~~~

taglist :

@alexloveskili @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @thebiggestsimpshrimp @guyinachair27 @astrobuzzsstuff @mooonlight-and-stars @moonlighting87 @mateihavenoidea @inactive-things @alondrashultz @femalemarvelself @queenthorin1 @haileymorelikestupid @jvdethirlwall @justtiredandvibing @winterfrostsarmy @themapoftinyperfectthings @littlebird101 @atzlena @httpslinow @arrowurboat @m-brekker @lifeandbandmembers-blog @adamcarlsenslvr @violet-19999 @seninjakitey @bestgirlpip @panic-in-the-multiverse @in-between-the-cafes @branolagar @bl6o6dy @annoyingmarvelreader @bee-a-cool-kid @buzzitsbeee @wintergirlsoilder2 @crow-carcass @you-bloody-shank @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @valiantphantomangel @50shadesofcrocs @rayrlupin @kingshitonly @brekkers-desigirl @hutaos-gh0st @kayane28 @nevaeh-jasso @lizlil @scarabgrant @luvxxee @certainchildmentality @yikesitskennawrites @alexisabirdie @zlatolait-writes @thursdaywritings @izzzzy-the-amazing @angrykitsune01 @kult6 @deadthings-pdf @0scars1saac @jones89 @idontknowicomefromtwitter @yeetskeeter @romanoffsurvives52

39 notes · View notes