#i can’t comprehend that maybe i do deserve them

[gregmarriage]

kinda got the #random urge to sabotage this before it’s even begun

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe and sensitive!reader spending the holidays together

c/w: fluff, her ovulating and being horny, smut: p-in-v, slight breeding kink, use of dad, 18+ mdni! 

wc: 1.5k

ugh i’ve missed this man

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

“Why is he doin’ that shit?”  

“Rafe, it’s a rom-com,” she reasons, practically glued to him on their couch with the way she keeps shifting closer and closer, almost unconsciously at this point.   

“Yeah, a shitty one. Why was it necessary to do a whole fuckin’ speech at the mall? He couldn’t jus’ I dunno, tell her how he felt?” he scoffs, clearly fed up with the entire film already. 

She can’t stop the bubbly laughter from escaping her when she looks over to his scowling face. “I mean, this is actually getting kinda weird…why’s everyone watching them?” 

“Yeah, ‘n why are they still on that fuckin’ stage?” he grumbles while the couple is now fully making out on the TV screen. 

“Please don’t ever do anything like that to me.”

“Yeah, was actually gonna ask, you, uh, you wanna go shoppin’ tomorrow?” 

“No!” she giggles before taking a sip of the hot chocolate she’d made for herself (because Rafe deliberately told her he didn’t want any) but the minute she’d sat down with the mug in hand, he’d wanted to try it, which ended up with him drinking nearly half of it.  

“Oh shit, forgot to give you this earlier, look what I got you today,” he suddenly murmurs. 

“Hm?” her eyes flit over to his face; momentarily distracted by his pretty features as he searches for something from the back pocket of his pants. Then, he’s pulling a golden necklace from a velvety box.    

“That looks really expensive,” she nervously mumbles, pausing the TV in order to concentrate on the heart-shaped locket he’s holding out to her.   

“You deserve the fuckin’ world, it was nothin’ alright? Can think of it as an early Christmas present if it makes you feel better,” he rolls his eyes, almost exasperated that she still can’t seem to comprehend the fact that he enjoys spending his money on her.    

“It’s so beautiful,” she croons as she inspects the piece of jewelry with careful fingertips, heart swelling in her chest at the sentiment— recalling how she’d mentioned something about thinking pendants like these were adorable maybe once.    

“Yeah? You like it?”    

“I love it. Wait, you had your initials carved into it too? That’s so cute, Ray, what the hell?” she feels her eyes grow watery because her boyfriend really is her favorite person in the whole wide world for a reason.    

“Yeah, know you’re into sappy shit like that, ‘n you can put m’picture inside too ‘n you’ll always have me with you or whatever the fuck.”    

“Shut up, you’re so sweet! I love you,” she exclaims before she’s wrapping her arms around his neck— climbing into his lap in the process while he murmurs into her hair how he apparently ‘loves her more’, which she thinks is not possible.    

“Let me put it on you?” he says before he’s swiping away some strands in order to clasp the locket around her neck. “Look so pretty with m’name on you.”

“Wait, you should have my name on you too,” she jokingly utters out next.  

“Been thinkin’ about gettin’ it tattooed actually,” he admits, completely serious, which makes her face scrunch up.  

“You’re not getting my name tattooed on you— you’re crazy,” she softly hits his chest. However, he can barely even feel it because she really doesn’t have a single violent bone in her body.   

“Yeah, crazy ‘bout you,” he grins, eliciting an airy giggle from her.    

Knowing she’s about to complain about him being weird again, he shuts her up with a press of his mouth against hers— a surprised noise leaving her when she’s momentarily taken aback by the sudden cushion of his lips. 

And it’s sloppy, the way they slot together like puzzle pieces when she opens up for him, but both of them prefer it that way. 

His kiss was meant to be something sweet but soon enough she’s rutting against him— whimpering into his mouth as if it’s been years since the last time they did this. And all too soon for her liking, he’s pulling away.

“Somethin’ you want?”  

“…no,” she lies through her teeth.    

“No? Jus’ uh, humpin’ me like a bitch in heat for no reason then, hm?” he raises his brows; eyes fixed on her frustrated features.    

“Ray...” she huffs out; a frown already forming on her spit-slicked lips.    

“Yeah?” he asks, giving her a soft peck as encouragement.    

“Want you…” she pants against his mouth.    

“But m’right here?” the furrow of his brows displays faux confusion.  

“You know what I mean,” she whines; shifting around in his lap some more.    

“M’afraid I don’t. If there’s somethin’ you want, you gonna have to tell me,” the edge of his mouth curls annoyingly when he decides to toy with her, always finding so much entertainment from her struggle.     

However, she merely grants him another whine.   

“Wha’s up with you today, hm? So fuckin’ needy, actin’ like you haven’t been fucked in a month when you were literally cryin’ on m’cock last night?” he murmurs while thumbing at her pouty bottom lip.   

“I don’t know…jus’ need you so bad,” her eyes begin to gloss over when he’s still not giving her what she so desperately craves.    

“Baby, there’s no need to cry, yeah?” he sticks his thumb past her lips; an attempt to placate her, even if he thinks she never looks prettier than with her eyes all wet and forlorn.   

“You’re ovulatin’ right now, aren’t ya?” his brain finally fits together the very telltale signs as he plucks his phone from the coffee table— opening the app that tracks her period cycle.  

“Think so, yeah,” she mumbles, mindlessly sucking on the digit resting on her tongue as she sniffles.  

It’s no surprise to either of them when his assumption proves to be right.    

“Think you need me to fuck a baby in you, s’that it? Wanna make me a real daddy?” he croons.    

“Mhm…want you,” her words are muffled around his thumb.    

“I know, sweetheart. Don’t want anyone but you carryin’ m’kids— think about knockin’ you up so fuckin’ often, you know?”    

“You do?”    

“Yeah, know you’d be such a good mom.”    

“You think? I think you’d be the best dad, sometimes wish you were my dad,” she rambles mindlessly, the conversation suddenly teetering on the edge of something else entirely.    

“Shit, such an angel face ‘n then there’s this rotten mind inside, huh?” he tuts in disapproval, appearing disgusted as if he doesn’t get even harder in response to her words— something raw, primitive stirring in the pit of his stomach whenever she says things like that.    

“M’sorry dad,” she offers him an impish smile.  

“Someone’s in a mood today?” he chuckles, narrowing his eyes in a playful manner.    

“Can you take off your pants?” she complains while attempting to loosen his belt but with her mind buzzing like a honeybee it’s proving to be a rather demanding.   

“Can’t do anythin’ without dad’s help, can you? Go on, let’s see if you can take me out by yourself, yeah?” he rasps out, tone challenging.    

“No, need your help, daddy, I can’t—”  

“Shit, you’re fuckin’ pathetic,” he murmurs, somehow managing to turn something so patronizing into something affectionate as he swats away her helpless hands and yanks the belt open himself.    

“See? Not that fuckin’ hard, was it?” he mutters out as his thumb slips out of her mouth before he’s pulling himself out. And even if he’s not even fully hard yet, and she’s seen it more times than she can count, she’s still mesmerized by the sight— eyes rounding out while she simply stares as if she’s under some spell.    

“You’re so pretty,” she blinks at him, eyes moony.    

“Still not tired of seein’ it, huh?”   

She shakes her head.   

And since she’s not wearing any pants (as usual), he only has to tug the fabric of her underwear to the side in order to reveal her messy cunt.    

“Ray…” she whines when he merely smears the drippy head over her folds; thudding it against her clit to get her to whimper some more.  

“Hm? Want it inside? Wha’s the magic word?” he looks at her with something amused twinkling in his eyes.   

“Please. Dad, it hurts,” she sniffles, desperately trying to rub against him in an attempt to alleviate the ache.    

“Hurts? Think you bein’ a little dramatic, no?” he lets out a breathy chuckle, making her huff out in frustration.   

“M’not, Ray, please, need you so bad,” wet droplets stain her cheeks while she tries to uselessly blink them away.    

“Shh, s’okay. Dad’s bein’ mean again, isn’t he? M’sorry, baby, I’ll give you what you want, yeah?” his voice is a deep rumble before he’s finally tucking the tip into her weepy cunt, causing both of them to moan in tandem when she practically sucks him in— his fingerprints denting the skin of her thighs when he aids her movements to his liking.   

“Yeah? That what you wanted? Always such a tight fuckin’ fit, huh?” he grunts against her mouth; hips meeting hers halfway as he stuffs himself deeper.  

“Mm, I love you,” she whimpers— practically feeling him in her guts as his cock pokes at the spongy spot inside her while his big hands help situate her on top of him, and she thinks this might just be heaven on earth.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Satoru Gojo purposely keeping the scar you gave him instead of using reversed technique

Pairing: husband! Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,6k

Synopsis: When his skin gets busted by your sheer excitement, it doesn't feel right to Satoru to use his reversed technique and simply heal.

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, Yuji's "death" scnene in season 1, blood lol

Thank you dear anon for aggressively reminding me that it's canon for Gojo to not have any scars, it really helped me cooking up that fic! 🤍

Every step feels like hell, the only thing that keeps you from collapsing onto the floor being the reassuring hand of your husband on your shoulder.

This can’t be true, it’s just impossible. Yuji Itadori was a member of Jujutsu High for a few weeks, just started to get to know this world better. This was supposed to be an easy mission, the three of them should have made it out alive with ease. But apparently, Sukuna decided to show up. And apart from injuring Megumi, he violently took Yuji’s life by ripping his heart out. A heart made of pure gold, a heart so precious that you couldn’t help but care for that boy the minute you saw him.

But now he’s dead.

Your hands start shaking immediately the minute you step into this cursed room you visited far too often, gazing at Yuji’s body covered by a cloak. This isn’t a bad dream. No, the blood covering the white cloak tells you more than urgently that Yuji Itadori isn’t there anymore.

“Please tell me that there’s a chance he’ll come back”, you mutter.

Oh, how much both Shoko and Satoru hate to see you like that. It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High how deeply you care about your students, loving them like your own children. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen a student die in front of your eyes. In times like these, jujutsu sorcerers pass away like flies. But Satoru knows what you’ve seen in Yuji, that he somehow reflected parts of yourself. And still, you weren’t able to protect that boy, both Satoru and you coming too late to rescue him.

“I really wish I could, but he shows no signs of life. I’ll move on to autopsy now. If you want to say goodbye…Maybe do it now and leave afterwards.”

Satoru wraps his arms around you just in time before you slide onto the ground, holding you tightly against his chest.

“This is not fair”, you breathe out, head still not able to accept Yuji’s farewell.

He was so young, so full of life. He doesn’t deserve to die, he still had so much ahead of him. There needs to be something you are able to do. Aren’t Satoru or Shoko able to use their cursed technique?

“He didn’t show any signs of life for hours by now, (y/n). Not even Shoko or me are able to bring him back to life. I’m so sorry”, he mumbles against your ear out of nowhere.

So this is really how it ended? With Yuji getting killed by none other than Sukuna himself? Like in trance, your wobbly legs carry you to the autopsy table his lifeless body lays on. You want to stretch out your arm, want to look at that precious boy one last time before Shoko does her job.

But you can’t.

“I can’t look at him”, you blurt out.

With a swift motion, you turn around and burry your face against your husband’s chest.

“It’s okay babe, just look at me, okay? You don’t have to do this.”

Satoru’s arms keep you from losing yourself completely, soak up your falling tears while his head rests against yours. Oh Yuji, you’ll never be forgotten. All the laughter’s both of you shared, his potential, how he always cared about others. You will think about him every time the sun starts to rise, when new students get greeted, when you kill another curse-

“Hey, what’s up? Huh, what are both of you doing here, Gojo-sensei?”

This voice…

That was Yuji Itadori.

Out of instinct you turn around rapidly, not even noticing how the back of your head crushes into Satoru’s forehead with full force. He sees starts, blood taking his sight in an instant while his mind isn’t even able to comprehend it was Yuji who just spoke.

“Yuji! Are you okay? Are you hurt? You’re back!”, you babble out, embracing the boy in a tight hug.

“To be honest I don’t even know what happened last and I’m pretty hungry…Oh, you’re bleeding Gojo-sensei!”

You’re…bleeding? You turn around in confusion, following Yuji’s eyes.

“OMG SATORU!”, you cry out, the sight of your husband covered in his own blood shocking you to your core.

When did that happened…Was it…you?

“I guess you were so happy to see Itadori that you’ve forgot about me standing behind you”, he mutters amused.

“Babe I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got so carried away and-“

“Don’t worry about me. Reversed technique, remember? I’ll be whole in seconds. Just look after Yuji, I love you.”

You let out the breath you were holding, the bright smile forming on your gorgeous face making Satoru forget the world around him for a moment. You are so caring, so passionate. And you are his wife.

“I’m a lucky man”, he mutters to himself while pressing the tissue Shoko handed him against his wound.

There you sit, gently caressing Yuji’s cheeks and asking him over and over if he’s okay.

“You really are. This isn’t a problem for you, right?”, Shoko questions with one glance at the laceration on his forehead.

The shocked look on your face replays itself over and over in his mind, lets a chuckle escape his lips. With the help but his reversed technique, it would be way too easy to get rid of that minor wound. Within seconds, there wouldn’t even be a scar left, just his flawless skin. But…it was you who did this to him out of sheer excitement. It sure would be nice to look into the mirror and get reminded of you daily, right?

“Oh, I might as well keep that”, he replies with a sly grin.

- a few weeks later -

You sit on the edge of the couch, desperately waiting for that time of the day. Even after being married to that force of a man for 4 years now, you find yourself getting all excited when he announces that he’s going to shower. Because going to shower means that he’ll come out just wearing boxers with his body still a little wet and his hair sticking to his face in that delicate way.

“Still waiting for me, huh? It’s not like you can see me naked every time you want, babe”, he finally purrs.

Your heart skips a beat. This man…How is it even allowed to look so breathtakingly gorgeous? The way a single droplet of water runs down his cheek, how he gently strokes his damp hair back.

Wait. You squint your eyes a little harder. What is that on his forehead?

“What do you have there?”, you question, rubbing your own hand against the ride side of your forehead.

This almost looks like a scar. But Satoru shouldn’t have scars. After all, he’s able to use reversed technique, healing himself in the matter of seconds. Is it just dirt? No, that definitely looks like scar tissue.

“Oh, it’s nothing”, he immediately tries to brush you off, pulling his hair back into his face.

“No way Romeo, come back here right now”, you demand.

With a swift motion you lift yourself off the couch and hunt after him.

“Is that a scar?”

“It might be…”

“Why didn’t you just heal it? Show it to me!”

When you finally catch him, you slick his hair back again. Only to be greeted what indeed looks like a middle-sized scar. But why and how did this happen, why didn’t he just heal like he usually does?

“You really don’t know where this came from?”, he challenges you.

You blink a few times. What the hell is your husband talking about?

“Why would I know where this came from?”

“Because it was you, (y/n)?”, he playfully bites back.

You? Your mind races, searching for a single moment you ever hurt your husband. You were never really able to even hurt him, no matter how berserk you went in training. When was the last time you even wounded him? But wait, there was this one time you made him bleed, that one time when…

“This was when Yuji woke up-“

“EXACTLY!”, Satoru cries out and gives you a round of applause.

“But why did you keep it? You said you’d be able to heal it…”

“Because I didn’t want to. This scar right here”

Gently, he takes your hand in his and traces the soft scar with your fingertips.

“will always remind me of what a wonderful human being you are.”

Oh. Your eyes turn glossy in an instant, staring up at your loving husband while he gifts you with the most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen.

“Satoru”, you breathe out.

There is no time to waste. You wrap your longing arms around his tall frame tightly, aiming to never let him go again.

“Every time I look into the mirror, I think about my wonderful wife”, he mutters into your hair.

“Y’know, you could just take a picture of me or something-“

“No. I would rather just keep that scar of my wonderful wife smacking me over a student.”

You hit him playfully over his comment, a giggle escaping your precious lips.

“Come on, it wasn’t like that…”

“I’ll always tell the story like this.”

Tags: @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp@localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo

Dividers by @saradika 🤍

[81folklore]

heaven - PIASTRI - part 5

pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader (fc: gracie abrams)

summary: australian adventures of yn and oscar

type: social media au (smau)

authors note: IM BACK WRITING MY FAVORITE ANGELS!!! ive been feeling slightly more motivated so i thought id just continue a story instead of creating a new one (at least whilst im in this slump) i do hope you enjoy!!

heaven masterlist masterlist

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 7,191 others

oh australia how ive missed you and your gifts 💫

view comments

user3 whats the best gift australia has given you??

yourusername oscar!!! liked by oscarpiastri

user3 SHUT THE FUCK UP WHATTTT?!?!??

user62 i feel SICK THEYRE SO??

oscarpiastri oh my goddd

oscarpiastri 😍😍

user4 you cannot separate oscar from that emoji

yourusername not even i can😕😕

oscarpiastri you can pry it from my cold dead hands

user81 that dog is so stinking cute

user22 yess but that dress is GORGEOUS

user5 right shes sooooooo pretty liked by oscarpiastri

user88 australia is the one whos lucky!! liked by oscarpiastri

user67 like they are being blessed with the yn ln

yourfriend3 you are oh so lovely liked by oscarpiastri

yourfriend3 i take it back stop your boyf from liking my comments abt you

yourusername he loves me🥰🥰

oscarpiastri i do!! its true!!

oscarpiastri 📍location home

liked by yourusername, lilymhe and 52,281 others

my favorite lady in my favorite place

view comments

user18 SHE IS HIS FAVORITE LADY OH MU GOD😭😭

user17 AND HIS FAVORITE PLACE IS HOME😭

user24 oh my god she is gorgeous liked by oscarpiastri

user84 i will never ever get tired of them

user28 i hope theyre in love forever and ever liked by oscarpiastri

user55 oscar liking this comment☹️☹️

yourusername my babyyyy

yourusername oh how ill always love you liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri 🩷🩷

twitter

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 8,729 others

the day you entered my world you changed my entire view on life and myself, you help me find love and happiness in things i never expected and showed me how to appreciate the smallest things in life.

sometimes i wonder if im being selfish, how can i be worthy of all the love and time youve given to me? surely there is someone more deserving, someone who needs everything youve showed me more? i think about what i must have done in a past life to be gifted with you and then i wonder if we are destined.

maybe i dont deserve you in this life, maybe i dont deserve you in a thousand other lifes. but i believe we are meant to be which means for every universe we dont find eachother, we find eachother in a hundred more

im so glad we found each other, i dont know if i deserve you but i promise i will cherish and appreciate you the way i have done for 6 years and the way i will continue to love you for as long as this universe allows and then i will love you even longer in another

six years used to feel like forever but now ill never have enough time, happy anniversary lovely

view comments

oscarpiastri you continue to help my heart keep beating

oscarpiastri i didnt think love was real until i found you

oscarpiastri we will find eachother in every universe i promise

oscarpiastri you are the prettiest and most lovely person i have ever met and you deserve everything and more

yourusername my good looking boyyyy🩵🩵

user29 i have no words i cant comprehend what im reading

user10 i feel so violently ill they are so sweet

user62 my parents everyone!!!

user53 is that an engagement ring?!

user33 wait pause

user5 theres no way right??

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 62,379 others

you’ve impacted my life in more ways than you will ever know and im so thankful that i get to love you for all eternity, you have such a beautiful soul and i can’t believe i get to hold it

happy six years and to a lifetime more

view comments

yourusername you are so so incredible

yourusername i dont know how many other ways i can say it but i love you

oscarpiastri i love you too

user66 they are sooooo

user7 oh my gooooood i am a puddle of tears

user56 you just dont get them like i do

user32 anyone else sad we didnt get a long caption like yns was beautiful

yourusername oscar said more than enough in his letter☺️

user43 OH MY GOD HE WROTE HER A LETTER😭😭😭😭

user3 six years.. six damn years and they are still so in love

user48 guys are they engaged or not😭

yourusername not!! we are still young and exploring ourselves and the world and we are still grow into better people. we didnt want to rush when we still have so many things to do but we will when we know we are ready🩷 liked by oscarpiastri

user65 i didnt know it was possible to love two random strangers so much☹️☹️

yourusername added to their story

seen by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 9,372 others

text on story reads: 🩷🩷🩷

oscarpiastri added to their story

seen by yourusername, aussiegrit and 105,482 others

text on story reads: sunshine ☀️☀️

twitter

[aryaqua-reh2o]

What is going on with Stolas??

Something is off, it has been clear since The Full Moon and I have a theory about it.

There are a few moments in TFM but mostly in Apology Tour that rub me off the wrong way, as if Stolas himself is going subtly out of canon in his behaviour. Considering that Helluva Boss is an animated show and there is nothing not intentional in an animated show, I bet my two cents that the main reason for this vibe resides in this frame

Stolas ran out of his happy pills (the equivalent of antidepressant I assume) in the beginning of The Full Moon and for what we know he might still be off his medication by the time Apology Tour happens a few days (?) later. Back then I thought that missing a medication once wouldn’t be so impactful, but after reading a little about how antidepressant works I now believe that the disastrous ending of The Full Moon was at least in part caused by that. Stolas had a vision of how the night should have gone and once Blitzø doesn’t behave the way Stolas hoped, he just shuts down completely, failing to notice that Blitzø was, indeed, desperately trying to fight to stay with him. In a very wrong way, but Blitzø at this point still has no idea of the years of yelling and abuse Stolas had to endure, so he couldn’t know his anger would have triggered the other.

Another concerning sign is Stolas covering up all the portraits leaving only Octavia visible. Where is she by the way? The palace seems completely empty if not for Pringles the butler that we see for a second in the beginning. The palace is empty and dark.

The signs that something is off with Stolas become even more obvious in Apology Tour. Stolas doesn’t really miss the fact that Blitzø is somehow desperately trying to spend time with him and make up for what happened in TFM, in fact he teases him [Oh yes, very boring (relationships), what are you doing here then?] but he is not in the right mindspace to accept it or to listen to him and read between the lines. In Just Look My Way Stolas clearly sees how Blitzø is hiding to protect himself from the world that doesn’t comprehend him, but in Apology Tour that awareness is completely gone and all is left is resentment. Then Stolas snaps at Blitzø calling him out for not bothering to come and save him from Striker, but when we think about the end of Western Energy we see that Stolas is not angry or disappointed about Blitzø not coming to his rescue, he is only sad because he realises that his feelings for the imp are probably one-sided.

I haven’t seen anyone pointing this out but I noticed something sticking out like a sore thumb. Stolas is a prince and he was born and raised in luxury, so I can’t really place this behaviour that happens twice.

He arrives at the party and he grabs an abandoned red cup, empties it and drinks from it. This was his first drink for the night, or at least he seems very much sober there, but he deliberately uses a dirty cup to pour himself a drink. Later he straight up steals a drink from a succubus that was passing by, ok he is drunk, but still… it feels so off.

At this point Stolas is completely intoxicated and the conversation with Blitzø turns into a double monologue. It still tells a lot seeing how the two of them interact and protect each other and are utterly comfortable being together (do they even realise? I don’t think so), but still they end up with Blitzø being direct and honest for the first time while Stolas does three things: He doesn’t listen to what Blitzø is saying, he answers back but it’s all very generic and he keeps forgetting Blitzø is there at all.

Blitzø: Stolas, you are better off without me. Kay? You deserve so much… I don’t even know why you would want to be with me.

Stolas: You wanna know what I want? I want to know what it’s like to not be alone. I want to be someone’s someone. […]

Maybe at this point Stolas is too hurt to address Blitzø directly, it seems like he just gave up on him already, he decided Blitzø doesn’t want or love him so he keeps talking about a generic someone. Then he rants about how he needs for this someone to hold him and look at him and… he forgets again that Blitzø is right there. -You! Why are you here? I don’t want you here, go home please! Let me not feel so sad!

And then the Better than Blitzo Guy arrives and… I really don’t want to go down that rabbit hole because it hurts a lot. But here I am so I’ll go down there shortly. While I am perfectly ok (I’m truly not) with Stolas exploring new relationships and finally having fun and feel seen and wanted, I can still see how hooking up at a party while you are going through the worst breakup of your life is as maladaptive as a coping mechanism as it is to drink themselves to oblivion. Regardless of the Better than Blitzo Guy’s intentions with Stolas, it’s still a self-destructive behaviour. And again, Stolas is having fun dancing and making out with the Better Than Blitzo Guy and forgets Blitzø was even there.

That hurts man.

So this is it. This is the rant. I am so worried for my birdie babe Stolas!

[candiiee]

ᴅᴇᴋᴜᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴡᴏ: ꜱᴄᴀʀꜱ

Summary: Izuku struggles with seeing his scars as beautiful. Good thing you’re there to reassure him!

warnings: angst, fluff

an: this is a better version of the og post

Art that starry made: find here

Izuku looked at his scars, the ugly lines crisscrossing along his hands and arms, a deformity.

They were a sign of what he had endured at such a young age, forced into a war as a child soldier.

He didn’t regret it, of course. But that didn’t stop the self loathing. The stares. What business did a heavily scarred man have, teaching at U.A?

He remembers quite well, doctors telling him to be careful, to not destroy his arms and hands.

It was his fault. And he had the scars to show it.

But you. Oh adoring you. His loving partner. Maybe one day, he’d have the guts to get on one knee and propose.

He didn’t think he deserved you though. He couldn’t comprehend why you loved him.

His scars were awful. He knew looks weren’t everything, but he just didn’t feel quite adequate to be called your boyfriend.

You deserved someone better.

“Izu?” Your soft voice breaks his train of thought.

He looks up, realizing now that he’s strangling his all might plushie.

He blinks, returning to reality. He’s in his pyjamas, on another Saturday in his shared apartment with you.

“Are you alright?” You ask, crawling into the couch next to him.

“You’re strangling All Might.” You tease him, to lighten the mood.

He pauses, “I’m..fine.” He lies.

You frown, poking his cheek. “Don’t lie to me Sensei. That’s not very plus ultra.”

He flushes at the nickname. “Stop calling me that.”

“Mm, no, I don’t think I will.” You take the All Might out of his hands, putting it to the side. He pouts, and you can’t help but want to kiss his nose.

“Now what’s wrong?” You ask, intertwining your hand with his, squeezing it reassuringly.

Izuku sighs, looking at his hands, one of them holding yours. “It’s just.. my scars. I don’t like them. I don’t regret how I got them, though. It’s just..”

You listen to him explain, thinking. Finally he pauses to take a breath, and you jump at the chance to speak before he can.

“Izu. Look at me.” You let go of his hand, instead moving your hands to his face, cupping his cheeks, squishing them, and he pouts.

“You’re a gorgeous man. And your scars are attractive as well. They’re a sign you won, that you survived. In all honesty, I love your scars. They make you look hotter.” You add, smiling playfully.

He blushes, averting his eyes. “Really..?”

You nod, “Of course. I love you, Izuku.”

You lean in, still cupping his cheeks, then kiss him softly and tenderly. Izuku flushes, but returns the kiss, your lips moving against each other.

You pull away, and Izuku’s lips try to follow, and he whines. You giggle, kissing his nose and he pouts.

He sighs, “You can be so mean.”

You smile, “Oh calm down.” You trace his scars gently, and Izuku swears he’s about to cry.

“I love you too.” He says, kissing your forehead.

You smile, kissing his cheek.

Izuku knew right then and there he wanted to be by your side till death do us part.

@candiiee 2024

Dekutober prompt belongs to @getstarried

Taglist: @dokidokidraft @mo0nforme

[buckyalpine]

Please please please would you ever think of writing more to wait, what? I love it.

Maybe the group are upset they weren’t their for the wedding so they ask the reader and Bucky to have another one, renewing vows so they call all be there.

Plus the uncle and aunts playing with the baby. Babies first show of super grip.

More babies. How happy Bucky is when she is pregnant again. Maybe twins and they name them after the group; like have a girl so call her Samantha for Sam and a boy who is Nathaniel/Niklaus for nat.

Would love to see Tony as baby 2s godfather. Could totally see him “competing” against Steve. Look I got my Godkid this and that more than steve gave his. Not that it matters as tony fits for best uncle title so he gives everything to baby Stevie anyway :). Etc. Love your writing can’t wait to read your next fic. Anyway How are you? Hope you are well. How do you come up with stories?

YES YES One of my FAVOURITE AUs which I love to keep adding too. I've broken up this ask into parts here:

Wait, what? - 💔🥰 The secret you’ve been keeping from the team can only be hidden for so long (pregnant reader)

Wait, what? 2 -  🔥💔🥰 A little more back story + baby Barnes! (pregnant reader)

I do (again) Wait, what? 3 -  🥰 Everyone missed the first wedding, obviously you have to have another one

Wait, what? More Babies? -  🔥🥰 The family grows with a little new addition

Here is a little drabble with the aunts and uncles being complete menaces because they compete with each other. You shook your head looking at the growing pile of gadgets and toys collecting everywhere. There wasn't a single place where there wasn't a new present from either and aunt or an uncle, your kids spoilt beyond reason.

"Mama look!" Stevie ran into your room with a new shield in hand, proudly showing off the new technology it had been upgraded with from when he first got it. He whistled, grinning when the shield started to rumble before the plates shifted, expanding it to double the size. He had on a special type of watch fitted to his wrist and you couldn't even begin to comprehend what that would lead to.

"Baby, where do we keep all this?"

"In my room!" He scrambled off without looking back, only to have his presence replaced by the twins, each floating into the room with glowing red capes.

"What on earth are you to doing?" You knew better than to try and intervene with whatever it was they were doing, Samantha and Nathaniel giggling while sipping in circles from their latest gift from Aunty Wanda.

"Aunty Wanda charmed it for us!" They squealed, the tiny rocket booster running shoes they had been given from Tony boosting them to the ceiling.

"Get down from there!" You hissed, making your way to the living room to ask each God parent if they were trying to take years away from your life through stress.

"Did you see what I got for the tiny terminators" Tony grinned at Steve, hearing sound of laugher down the hall followed by your exasperated voice. He chuckled when he saw you disheveled form with each twin under your arm, clutching onto them like footballs to keep them from flying off.

"Best. God Father. EVER" Nathaniel grinned while Samantha nodded, trying to squirm from your hold.

"Steve jr got an upgrade too" Steve stated proudly, seeing his god son using his shield to surf down the staircase, causing you to drop one twin and catch your elder son before he face planted onto the floor.

"For F-" You caught yourself before finishing your sentence, both men snickering while you huffed, "I swear, wait till daddy is home" You placed your kids in a pile between their God fathers before going up to take a well deserved bath.

Bucky snorted at the sound of chaos that he heard as he made his way from the gym to your shared bedroom. He didn't want to set food into the living room when his demon spawn and Satan's love child god fathers were together, making his way straight to you instead.

"How are you mama" Bucky whispered softly, seeing the bathroom door left lightly ajar, the scent of lavender filling the room.

"Your children are spoiled Barnes" You peeked one eye open before closing it again, humming when you felt Bucky step into the tub, settling himself behind you.

"And who is spoiling mama?" He smirked, letting a sneaky hand trail down between your legs, kissing the sensitive skin on your neck, "Hm?"

A snap of his fingers was all that was needed to lock the doors and sound proof the walls. He'd already shot a text to Steve before coming to your room.

"You're both babysitting. Code XXX" (and Steve 1000% blushed like mad though Tony cackled and decided to set up a bet on if tonight would make another baby Barnes)

It was going to be a loooong night.

[casedclosedbye]

Christmas coziness

Spencer reid oneshot

C: Fluff

Summary: In a cozy, Christmas-decorated room, she relaxes with cocoa when Spencer Reid enters, apologizing for startling her. As they talk about Christmas traditions, Spencer opens up about the real magic of being with someone special.

The setting is cozy, with the soft glow of Christmas lights twinkling around the room. The scent of cinnamon and pine fills the air, the faint crackling of the fire offering a sense of comfort. She is curled up on the couch, a mug of hot cocoa in hand. Lost in the warmth of the moment, she watches the dance of the flames when suddenly, Spencer Reid appears in the doorway.

"Hey... sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you," his voice is gentle, the warmth in it almost tangible. "I was just making sure the last of the decorations were in place... and, uh, I may have gotten distracted by the snow falling outside. It’s so beautiful this time of year, isn’t it? Everything feels a little... magical."

He steps further into the room, his eyes twinkling as he moves closer, his presence a quiet strength, grounding and yet exhilarating. She sets down her cocoa, her attention now fully on him as he settles beside her, shifting just a little closer, as if drawn to the warmth not just from the fire, but from him too. His voice, usually steady and calm, is softer now, almost shy as he continues.

"You know, I’ve been reading about Christmas traditions around the world. Some people believe that if you stand under mistletoe with someone special, it’ll bring good luck. But... I think the real magic is just being with someone who makes you feel... well, special. Like right now, for example."

She watches him, her heart doing a little flutter as he smiles at her, a little goofy, a little unsure. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze soft and uncertain, and Spencer feels his own smile tug at the corners of his lips as he responds, his voice quieter than usual.

"You... you’re right," she says, a warmth spreading through her that has nothing to do with the fire. "Being with someone who makes you feel special... it’s rare, and it’s a kind of magic all its own."

He seems taken aback for a moment, blinking at her, his smile widening with a soft chuckle that makes her chest tighten in the best way. She glances down at her hands, then back up at him, her smile turning shy again.

"Okay, I’m rambling, aren’t I? I... I just wanted to say that spending Christmas with you feels like the best present I could get. I know I’m not great at, you know, emotions sometimes, but... you make me feel things. Things I didn’t even know I could feel."

His words make her breath catch, and for a moment, she can’t find the right words to respond. Spencer Reid has always been quick with facts and figures, but moments like this—vulnerable, real—feel far too big for her to fully comprehend. She looks at him, really looks at him, and in the soft glow of the Christmas lights, his face seems to shimmer with something that’s beyond the physical.

"I... I don’t know what to say," Spencer admits, his voice low. "But I think you’re right. You’re more of a gift to me than I could ever deserve. And... I feel the same. You make me feel things I didn’t know I was capable of either."

Her eyes soften as she takes this in, and for a long moment, the room seems to hold its breath. The tree twinkles beside them, its ornaments reflecting the soft light, and Spencer can’t help but think that, maybe, she’s right. This Christmas tree isn’t just a tree. It’s a symbol, just like her. A symbol of something beautiful, something warm, something he never thought he’d find.

She pauses, glancing up at the mistletoe overhead with a playful look in her eyes. She looks back at him, a little uncertain but also full of hope, like she’s about to take a leap of faith.

"Maybe... maybe we should test the mistletoe theory?" she suggests softly. "Just to see if it works. You know... scientifically speaking."

Spencer’s heart skips another beat, and for once, he doesn’t feel the need to overthink or analyze. He looks at her, his gaze soft and full of emotion, and then nods, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah. Let’s see."

And as he leans in, her breath warm against his cheek, the world seems to fade away, leaving only the two of them and the magic that had been quietly building between them all along.

[psuedosugu]

2am ★

suguru geto x reader

synopsis: your friend (?) comes into your room at 2 in the morning because he can’t sleep.

notes: hes so precious i just wanna kiss him ahhhhhh

the glowing numbers on your alarm clock read 2:00 am. the sky outside your semi-open window shows pitch black while the curtain covering it occasionally flutters due to the wind.

you lie in your bed, still and unable to sleep due to the thoughts running through your head plus your efforts to suppress them.

these days, your mind seems to always wonder back to the star plasma vessel mission, to riko herself.

riko amanai. a young girl, no older than 13. she didn’t deserve to die. you can still remember the sound of the gun hitting her, the sound of her now-still body hitting the ground, and her cold lifeless gaze. what could you have done differently to save her?

moping about it was doing you no good, though, so you decided that you would stop thinking about it all together, which was easier said than done.

you stared up at the ceiling, trying to think of something, anything else. counting sheep was turning out futile. sleep. sleep. you just wanted sleep. it felt like you hadn’t slept in months.

the familiar click! of your doorknob turning snapped you awake. you almost never lock your room, but only one person would come in here so late at night.

“nnh…suguru.” you sat up to look at him.

“did i wake you up? i’m sorry.” he asks sheepishly. his dark hair is outside of its usual bun, cascading onto his shoulders and part-way down his back. his eye bags are obvious, he must be just as tired as you are.

“i can leave if you wa-“ he starts but you interrupt him. “you didn’t wake me up! i- i couldn’t sleep either and even if i wasn’t awake, you’re always free to come in here.”

he had already stayed the night in your dorm a handful of times so him still being nervous about it was confusing, but cute nonetheless.

“you’re too kind to me,” he says, a smile adorning his face. that smile. that stupid smile.

admittedly, when your mind wasn’t occupied with dead girls toppling onto concrete floors, it was usually filled with him.

you scooted over and patted on the space next to you. as you started to sink back into the warm sheets, he made his way beside you, sliding into the covers.

“how’d your mission tod- yesterday go?” you ask, turning your head to look at him. he’s gorgeous, so gorgeous, you think.

“mmh, about as good as it could’ve gone.” he sighs.

sometimes, you feel like he’s the only person who will ever truly understand. he was there, right next to you when it all went down. maybe that’s why the two of you are so close now, a trauma bond of some sort.

the two of you lay together, only a few inches in between. that space was slowly shrinking as you gradually shifted closer every time you stole a glance at him. it felt taboo, these feelings that you were having for him. you weren’t supposed to feel this way. not about him.

unaware to you, suguru had been having similar thoughts. as much as he’d try to deny them because you would never ever like him back, he thought, they always sprang back up. he was tired of having to hide them.

to him, you were the sun itself, the center of his galaxy. he was so lucky, he thought, that you let him in your space so often, that he was able to breathe in your presence.

your shoulders were now side by side, touching, and he didn’t say a thing. suguru’s comforting presence had your eyes drooping.

your mind started to wonder to what it would be like to sleep next to him every night, maybe in a house the two of you would own instead of these dorms. you knew were getting ahead of yourself with your white-picket-fence fantasies, but you were too tired to care.

half asleep and absentminded, you snuggled closer to him, burrowing your face into the crook of his neck and slipping an arm around him. maybe you were feeling bold. maybe you were too tired to fully comprehend what you were doing.

suguru froze, his heart threatening to thump out of his chest. he was sure you could feel it against you. could you feel it? could you feel his emotions for you? did you know? he wanted you to know. he wanted to spill his hear out, to kiss you like there was no tomorrow, to have you.

he needed this. he needed you.

“[name]?” he murmured. you let out a faint hum in response, teetering between the border of awake and asleep.

“look,” he braced himself. he didn’t know what would come out of this, if your friendship would survive. he didn’t want to lose you, the only one who, he thought, truly cared, but he couldn’t live like this.

“..I’ve been having these feelings….these feelings about you. i..I’m really glad we’re friends, but every time you talk to me i just don’t know. i don’t know if i want just this. i want more. i want us to at least try having more. i know its sudden but its how i feel.”

he waited in anticipation for your response, staring at the ceiling. a few moments passed and he called your name. “[name]?” he asked, “..please say something.” a few more moments passed and he heard a soft snore. he looked down and sure enough you were knocked out, your chest rising and falling.

he smiled, moving a piece of your hair out of your face. had you heard any of what he said? would you even remember? probably not, he thought. oh well. there’s always tomorrow.

his eyes started to droop too, and he slipped into unconsciousness to thoughts of you, you, you.

[starlazergazer]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request: Combining two very similar requests! The overall summary is that the reader finds out she’s pregnant and out of fear leaves the republic (quickly becoming the empire) without Anakin knowing. Anakin tracks down the reader years later and leaves everything behind to live happily ever after with the reader and their child.

Warnings: Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 4K

A/N: Hey guys its been a while! She’s a little short but she’s got some good angst and some cute moments so I really hope you enjoy it!

You weren’t proud to admit that you didn’t see it coming.

The warning signs were all there, and in hindsight you can’t believe you had missed them. But no, not missed, for every time there was a new announcement about the condensation of power you felt your stomach drop, felt the voice in the back of your head whisper that this wasn’t right, you never missed a single warning sign, it was even worse than that. You ignored them.

Because you knew chancellor Palpatine, he was a nice old man, offering his wisdom to younger senators such as yourself, he wanted what was best for the republic same as you.

You thought you knew Anakin too.

But you did know Anakin, you wanted to argue, he was passionate, emotional, funny, someone looking only to do right in the world by those he loved. You just thought you were one of those people.

And maybe you were, maybe this were some big misunderstanding, maybe there were forces at play here you couldn’t see that changed things. Maybe you could be the one to make those changes.

In another life you’d stick around and see.

Not this time. A hand ghosting across your stomach, staring down at an empty suitcase. Circumstances have changed and you couldn’t afford to chance it.

But even as you stood in you room amongst the ruins of the republic you had fought so hard to build, all that echoed in your mind was Anakin’s last words “I’ll find you later I promise” spoken in that tone of voice that had you smiling no matter what. Even as he pulled away, even as he interrupted the most important surprise of your life you couldn’t help but smile back at him, watching his own lips quirk up in response.

How could so much have changed in such little time.

A knock at the front door knocked you out of your stupor, a spring in your step as you rushed out of the bedroom just in time to see Anakin walking into the living room.

And you were amazed at how he looked exactly the same, how your whole world came crashing down and Anakin was still Anakin, looking at you with so much love and worry in his eyes it made your chest ache.

He was across the room before you could even comprehend his movement, his arms wrapping tightly around you not even noticing that you never raised yours to do the same.

It would have been far too easy to melt into the hug, to reach up and cover his hands with your own as he stepped back and cupped each cheek, to ignore the new yellow tint in his eyes as he scanned your body frantically asking if you were hurt.

But your choice here wasn’t just your own anymore, and if there was one thing you were certain of, it was that whoever this child came to be deserved more than what the empire offered.

It took you a second to find your voice, a second to push his hands off your cheeks, to take a step back from him, offering a small I’m okay that he clearly didn’t believe before you fully collected yourself “it’s just a lot to take in ya know?”

And there was a small sigh of relief that racked through him, before he took up your hand, giving it an experimental squeeze, as if afraid you were going to reject him “I know but really all that’s changed is the title, the senate still exists, you still have the same job, emperor Palpatine is just doing his best to protect people”

And you wondered if he really believed that, if he thought that the senate mattered in any way but a  symbolic one at this point, that Palpatine was still prepared to just give back his power when he deemed it was best. Anakin was many things but never naive.

A bitter part of you noted how easily the change to Palpatine’s title came to him.

“Of course” you tried to assure him with your best smile, an awkward hand coming up and patting his “I’m still a senator”

He seemed to relax slightly at this, his posture slouching ever so slightly as his smile grew easier, crinkling the edges of his eyes just a little more now than it did before.

“What about you are you okay?” The question held more weight than he could possibly realize.

“I’m good” he sighed out, leading you softly over to the couch “the jedi order, the republic, all of it wasn’t working, hadn’t for some time and emperor Palpatine changed that. I really think it’s for the better”

And you weren’t sure whether it would’ve been worse if he had told you he was being forced into the whole thing. If you would rather he had somehow been blackmailed into his new role or if he truly believed in the empire, choosing instead to dismantle all that you devoted your life to of his own volition.

“Good” you nearly choked on the word as it came out, your forced smile starting to ache in your cheeks as you fought to keep it on “I’m glad”

He smiled warmly back at you and in that moment he looked too much like the Anakin you knew, the man you’d shared many stolen moments with in closets and empty rooms, the man you wanted more than anything in that moment to just come home to.

“Anyway there was something important you wanted to tell me” he prompted softly, turning softly into you, encapsulating both your hands in his with a soft squeeze.

And your mind jumped immediately to the test hidden in your luggage in the bedroom at that very moment, to the moment you had pulled him into the nearest closet just before everything went down, to the excitement you had felt in that moment and carried with you even as he told you he had to go, that you could tell him later. Only for later to never come.

Your mouth dropped open slightly, an amalgamation of words tumbling around inside you with no real idea which would spring forth first. A part of you wondered what would happen if you told him. Would he give it all up? Run away with you? Become the fantastic father you knew he would be away from the sway of the empire, from Palpatine?

But you knew better.

“Oh it was nothing” you shook him off “can hardly remember it now”

He studied you carefully, mistrust evident in every feature on his face. Instead of objecting, however, he just brought a hand up to softly cup your cheek.

And oh how you hated how quickly your body reacted, leaning into the touch softly, your eyes fluttering closed before you could stop them.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

His words were soft but you could hear the earnestness in them, the slight beg for you to let him in.

“Yeah I know” you opted for a half truth, never that good at denying him anything, knowing that in any other circumstance you wouldn’t have even hesitated, hell before all of this you were excited to tell him.

But circumstances change, people changed, you just wished that he had picked a path you could follow down.

“I’m just feeling a little tired, I think I’m going to lay down for a nap” you shrugged off his hand softly, pulling yourself back from picking it up with your own, forcing yourself to drop his other one, to push yourself up off the couch, to take a step back, to put that first bit of distance between the two of you.

And you could see him recoil slightly at the sudden declaration, at your sudden dismissal of him, a brief moments shock spent frozen on the couch before he pushed himself up with a dejected nod, a soft hesitant voice you hardly recognized as Anakin’s coming from him “yeah of course, just let me know if you need anything okay?”

For a moment your mind was captured by thoughts of what could have been, Anakin taking care of you through bouts of morning sickness, bringing you packages of whatever pregnancy cravings you had in the middle of the night, rubbing your swollen feet while you talked lazily on the couch. It felt unfair that a person could mourn something that would never come to pass.

“I will, thanks Ani”

And despite the tension in the air you saw the corner of his mouth twitch up at the familiar nickname. He gave a small nod before backing away and heading for the door, his hand coming up to the panel and hovering over its surface, a brief moment spent frozen before he spoke, calling out your name and spinning around to find you.

But he didn’t need to look far, you hadn’t moved from your spot as you watched him go.

“I love you”

And it would’ve been so much easier if he hadn’t have said that, if some part of you could’ve been able to push his feelings over all of this to the back of your mind, if you had been left to believe that on some level he would be okay if you left him.

“I love you too Ani” and even worse you meant it

-

“So this is why you ran?” the familiar voice broke you from your thoughts as you stared forward at the busy playground but didn’t necessarily surprise you, it was after all a voice you had been waiting to here again after too many years.

A million reactions to that voice ran through your head all at once, each one completely contradicting the one before. Run away, embrace him, hide your daughter, introduce him to her. So instead you stayed frozen in place, your gaze locked on the colorful jungle gym before you.

“I decided she deserved a better life than what the empire could give her” Still you refused to look at him, refused to put a face to that comforting voice you had always been inexplicably drawn to. Instead you focused on keeping your head held high, to stave off any guilt that threatened to leach into your tone. You couldn’t afford to look weak over this decision not now.

“she?” but god that little tremble in his voice nearly broke you, every doubt you had over the years amplified by a minor change in pitch. It was precisely why you had left in the first place, and here he was again threatening to pull you back in all over again.

You cleared your throat softly, gesturing across the playground vaguely with your head “bright pink coat, attempting to climb the monkey bars”

A shaky exhale sounded from beside you, a slight shift as he scooted closer but you weren’t sure whether you liked the feeling or hated it. “she looks just like you” The smile you could hear in his voice, however, that you relished.

“She’s got your eyes” you responded softly, laughing quietly as you watched her run and jump off the platform in an attempt to get high enough to reach the first rung “and your reckless relationship with danger”

You felt Anakin go tense beside you the minute her shoes left the ground, watching as she sailed missing the bar by mere inches and tumbling to the ground. Your hand came out to his elbow the minute you felt his weight shift as he got ready to go help her, freezing the two of you in place as you watched her pick herself up and dust herself off before abandoning her quest for the monkey bars and taking off for the swings.

“Tough kid” Anakin laughed almost in disbelief, watching her shake off the fall as if it were nothing.

“taught her early on if she was going to make stupid decisions she better be prepared to deal with the consequences”

A tense silence fell over the two of you at your words. It only occurring to you then that you still had your hand on his arm, pulling it back quickly, acting as if it were nothing, as if your fingers weren’t aching to reach out to him again.

“You know I was high up in the empire” he broke the silence with heavy words, inlaid with more depth than he probably meant “I could’ve given her a good life”

You shook your head at his words, eyes never leaving your daughters form as she started to swing, blissfully unaware of who had just shown up “there was a time I would’ve believed that” you responded honestly with a sigh “but after everything the empire has done, after seeing what is has become, I know I made the right call”

“the schools I could get her into, the house I could provide-“ Anakin pushed on only making your lip tremble slightly, your eyes closing as you let out a shaky beath, cutting him off.

“stop Ani” and the two of your froze at the nickname, the way it slipped out too easily from your lips, how much you liked the sound of it “the empire destroyed everything I fought for in an instant. It overthrew a democracy I devoted my life to in favor of a dictatorship, it killed millions of people I gave my life to serve as their representative, it took everything from me including you” and finally you turned to face him, not at all surprised to see familiar blue eyes already staring down at you, each feature swimming through an ocean of emotions he wasn’t quite sure which to land on. “I wasn’t going to let them take her too”

You each took a moment, eyes bouncing back and forth between one another’s, you taking a moment to take in a face that somehow looked the exact same as it had years ago and yet changed so much.

Still he shook his head softly, eyes casting back out to the playground before him “I would’ve come with you”

And you’d spent too much time pondering that same question to just let it slide “you wouldn’t have”

Anakin’s head snapped back to yours, eyebrows drawing in in confusion and hurt “You think I would’ve chosen anything else over you? Over her?” he gestured over to the swings, your daughter kicking her feet to climb higher and higher into the air.

“I think you would’ve tried to talk me into staying, and I was afraid I was too weak to say no” you answered honestly, watching as he shook his head again clearly not liking that as an answer “and I think even if you had wanted to come with me they wouldn’t have let you” that gave him pause, his brows furrowing slightly at your words, silently prompting you to continue “you were the emperors right hand man, the one set to inherit everything. They weren’t going to let you go that easily”

“I was in too deep, so you just gave up on us” he paused for a second, a deep breath running through him before he continued “gave up on me”

Immediately you were scooching yourself closer to him, thigh coming to rest right along his as you took one hand in yours, using it to pull his attention back to you. “If circumstances were different” you began slowly, blindly searching for the right words for the feeling you had never been able to let go of “I would’ve stayed with you. No question, no hesitation, I would always choose you.” And you gave those words a second to sink in, hoping more than anything that he would believe you on that much, “But now I have her to think about” you nodded vaguely in your daughters direction, Anakin’s gaze briefly following yours before snapping quickly back to your figure, his hand squeezing yours just a little tighter “At that time that meant getting her out of there by whatever means necessary”

“And now?” he asked quietly, eyes practically begging you for an answer

“Darth vader has no place in our family” you answered solemnly, giving the statement a moments pause to cement it “however, Anakin Skywalker always has a place at our table”

You could see his face start to break out into a smile but your attention was pulled away too quickly by a familiar voice shouting “mommy” before a weight was pushed onto your lap as your daughter buried her head into your chest, not bothering to slow down from her dead sprint before she jumped onto your lap.

You gave a dramatic “oof” that had her giggling as she brought her gaze up to meet yours, a wide smile on her face as she started to talk “did you see how high I went on the swings mommy? Did you see me go?”

Her excited fast talking pulled an easy smile to your cheeks as your voice got higher slightly, nodding eagerly along with her “I did see you went sooooo high you’re such a brave little girl”

“I’m not that little” she protested with a giggle and a dramatic roll of her eyes, her gaze cutting briefly to Anakin’s form next to you, the question of who this man was clearly bubbling beneath the surface, nothing but her own shyness keeping it at bay.

“Come here” you said softly, twirling her around so she sat in your lap with her back against your chest, her head tucked perfectly just beneath your chin “do you remember all those stories I tell you about the super cool Jedi?”

“Obi-wan?” she asked innocently and you couldn’t help but laugh, if nothing else the girl’s comedic timing was on point.

“no the other one, the one that worked to bring balance to the force?”

“Daddy?” she asked eagerly and you heard a breath escape from Anakin, a quick glance up to him showed that his eyes were glued to the little girl in your lap.

“That’s right” you assured her with a smile growing more strained by the second, a tightness in your chest growing as you knew what her next question would be.

She looked over at Anakin curiously, not quite shying away from him but keeping her distance from her spot in your lap, choosing instead to carefully study the man before her. “Is he going to come live with us now?”

Your eyes jumped up to Anakin’s as he tore his gaze from the girl in your lap, an expression on his face that seemed to ask you the same question.

“I don’t know sweetheart” you began hesitantly “I think Daddy’s got some things he needs to figure out before-“

“Yes” Anakin cut you off before you could finish, making your eyebrows shoot up at him, your eyes silently asking him if he was sure, if he knew what he was agreeing to right now, if he was really prepared for a step like that.

Instead his gaze broke back down to his daughter, a small smile growing on his face as he stooped slightly as he spoke “that is if it’s okay with you?”

“mmmm” you daughter hummed loudly, clearly missing the desperation in Anakin’s expression as she held him on the edge of his seat, pondering the question carefully before asking “are you a good swing pusher?”

A strained, relieved chuckle from his lips at her question, an eager answer following it quickly “I’m an excellent swing pusher”

“Then as long as it’s okay with mommy” she declared simply, Anakin’s eyes breaking once again up to meet yours, a single question held within them.

And looking into his eyes you thought of the person he had become after the republic fell, the person you felt you had to flee in order to raise your daughter in a safe environment, the person that became the very thing you’d once worked to destroy.

But looking at him all you saw was your Anakin. The man who had only ever tried to do what he thought was best, the man who would lay down his life with no hesitation to protect you, the man who ever since meeting her had been hanging off your daughters every word. Five minutes in and she already had him wrapped around her little finger.

“What about your job” you asked him, your expression holding more meaning than your actual words “back on Coruscant”

“I’m done with that” he answered immediately, inching closer to the two of you “no one knows I’m here”

“Are you sure” you asked him slowly, a million tiny expansions on that question flowing silently through you. Are you sure that you’re done with the empire, that no one will come looking for you, that this is really what you want?

“I’ve never been more sure of anything” he answered softly, eyes never breaking contact with yours as he said it.

And you let that answer hang In the air for a moment, searching his expression for any sign of doubt but ultimately finding none. You opened your mouth to speak when you daughter decided to break the silence for you, grabbing Anakin by the hand she hopped off your lap and started to drag him towards the playground. “Good you can come push me on the swings now”

And you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched him follow her eagerly, a grin on his face you hadn’t realized how bad you had missed seeing as he helped her into the seat, starting to push her almost hesitantly, as if he were afraid she would fall off.

So true to form your daughter demanded higher, eliciting a hearty laugh from the former jedi you could hear from across the playground, bringing a soft smile to your face as you watched the two of them, whispering softly to yourself “welcome home Ani”

[skz-akira]

“𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞? 𝐢'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲.”

summary: idol!felix x non idol!reader, female reader author note: not proof read ! it took way longer than i expected and in my opinion it’s not the best piece i’ve written but thank you for reading anyways and supporting me ;-; request: @savebangchan1997

you wanted to be happy for him. you really did, but as you watched your boyfriend openly flirt with the girl on the television, the only feelings that arose inside of you were fury and jealousy. 

she was beautiful. she was perfect. she was everything you weren’t, and you hated her for it. it was unfair and you knew it, the way you despised her, but you couldn’t help it. especially not with the way felix’s eyes drifted across her body, a faint smile on his lips. 

you tore your eyes away from the screen, closing them tightly. you could already see the fans making edits about your boyfriend and her. you felt another stab of anger. sure, your relationship with felix was a secret, but he was practically checking her out in front of everyone. 

you hated everything. you hated felix for acting like this, and you hated her because she was better than you. prettier. hotter. when you looked at her, you saw everything you weren’t, and you hated yourself for it.

underneath your jealousy, a part of you knew that felix deserved better. he was an idol and you were a girl. compared to the idols he got to see everyday, you were nothing.

“baby, i’m home!” felix peeked into the living room where sitting, watching a television show without much interest. you turned around, and he gave you a slightly drained smile, “were you watching me?”

you nodded, searching his eyes for any guilt, but he only beamed at you. “how was i? did i look handsome?”

“that girl seemed to think so.” your voice came out icy cold to your own surprise.

felix frowned, turning around to look behind him, as if trying to see who you were talking about. “what girl?”

you bunched your hands together, the pent up mixture of jealousy and anger coursing through your veins. “the girl you were on tv with. you seemed to get along pretty well with her.”

felix’s smile dropped. “baby… we’re friends. we have to like each other, or pretend to like each other if we’re hosting a show together.”

you crossed you arms, glaring at him. “so you were pretending to check her out?”

felix’s eyes widened as they met yours, and you could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of fear. “i wasn’t!”

you glowered at him distrustfully. “really.”

felix scoffed at your expression. “honestly, baby. you always get so defensive. i go on tv with female idols all the time.”

“and i hate it.” you choked out. “i hate it!”

he shook his head, annoyance flashing across his features. “why? why can’t you just be happy for me?”

i wish i could. i wish i was pretty like all of the idols you get to see.

“if you would stop feeling jealous all of the time, maybe you wouldn’t be so miserable!” he yelled.

you took a step back, your head spinning as if he had physically hit you.

“you’re being immature, you know?” felix continued angrily, taking your silence as a sign of defiance. “you’re acting like i’m going to leave you or something.”

“that’s exactly what i think!” you burst out. your throat constricted and you were vaguely aware of your short, ragged breaths.

felix stared at you in shock. “what?”

“that’s exactly what i think every time you go on camera with other idols!” 

felix shook his head, as if unable to comprehend your words. “why?”

“because… because…” you were crying openly now, your tears leaving dark bruises on the tiles. “i’m nothing like them. the pretty idols you get to see everyday. i’m ugly, and basic, and… and…”

if you looked up, you would’ve seen the regret flashing across his face. you would’ve see how much his heart hurt, seeing you cry like this. his arms wrapped around you, and before you could register what he was doing, he pulled you into a tight embrace. your head rested on his chest, breathing in his familiar scent as you shoulders shook with sobs. ugly. stupid. immature. you didn’t deserve him.

“you’re perfect.” he whispered in your ear, his voice soft. “i promise.”

of course he would say that. he’s just saying it to make you feel better. and you didn’t deserve to.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t notice that you felt this way.” he continued, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “you need to tell me when you… if you feel bad, okay baby?”

“didn’t want you to… think i was being dramatic.” you sniffed.

“never.” he said, still rubbing your back. “i’m sorry for acting insensitive, but i would never disregard your feelings. i didn’t know how you felt.”

you nodded, although you didn’t want his apology. “i’m sorry too. for overreacting.”

felix chuckled, stroking your hair. “we were both tired. and grumpy.”

“mostly me.” you mumbled into his chest.

he looked down at you, his eyes shining with emotion. “i yelled at you. i could never forgive myself for that.”

you shrugged. 

“y/n.” he cupped your face in his hands, making you look at him. his eyes were earnest and warm, and you thought again about how you didn’t deserve him. “please. stop forgiving me so easily. i… i honestly think i don’t deserve it. and most of all, stop hating yourself. it’s not healthy.”

when you didn’t say anything, he added, “of course, i know, it’s not that easy. but please, talk to me. i just want to help you.”

you didn’t deserve him.

“i love you.” he pressed, meeting your eyes. “let me help the woman i love.”

you nodded slowly. 

“thank you.” he pressed a small kiss to your head. “do i get an i love you as well?”

“of course i love you, silly.”

[cherryredstars]

Hi! I really really love how you write for Simon. Like honestly it is so good. I saw that you're taking regular requests right now, so if it's okay could I request some jealous/insecurity headcanons or a oneshot (any format really) for Simon? Like maybe him and the reader are still working toward being more secure but there's still those moments where there needs to be some reassurance and a bit of comfort.

I just loved your cocky!Simon headcanons and I would love to see the progression of him getting to that point if you know what I mean lol.

Also congrats on 1k!! You deserve it!! I love your blog.

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Insecurities, Mentions of Simon’s Trauma, Angst (???) with Comfort

Summary: He just needs a little reassurance sometimes.

A/N: I need to write for Simon more, I miss him!!

Word Count: 1.6K (Edited)

Simon’s been jealous before. Envious being a better word. 

He used to be jealous of all the kids who had a loving home to go to. Jealous of peers with perfect parents and perfect siblings. Jealous of all the things he felt like he should have but couldn’t get. But this is a new kind of jealousy, a new insecurity. One so ugly and consuming that he feels particularly shameful of it. 

He knows relationships, especially for him, are all about time. Everything is about time. Hell, he spent fucking months trying to come to terms with the fact that he liked you. Spent even more time building up the courage to ask you out on a date and begin a relationship with him. Add on to that the long hiatuses caused by deployment? This whole relationship is a slowly spinning clock. 

But he’s here, a newly taken man with the kindest thing on his arm. He should be grateful, and he is grateful! Truely, undoubtedly grateful for the opportunity you have given him. But, he can’t help wanting more. From himself mostly, but also from you. And it frustrates him, frustrates him to no end because he knows he’s the reason why the both of you can’t have more. You have told him countless times, drilling it into his head like a daily affirmation that you’re okay with that. That would wait however long it took for Simon to get the hang of this. To fully comprehend what it means to be yours and how to navigate through it. And he is so blessed to have someone so understanding waiting up on him. 

But he sees the difference. Sees the way how natural, how fucking easy it is for you to talk and interact with everyone else. Can see how easy it is for everyone else to interact with you. Things he can’t comfortably do yet. It makes a dark well of hatred form in his stomach because he can't understand why it has to be so hard for him. Why he got the shitty deal of cards, why he got the short end of the stick. He knows, realistically, that it's his fault. So what if his shitty family life and not so glory-filled military career played a part in it? It's still Simon’s own actions at the end of the day. 

It’s fucking torture to watch the casual touches everyone lays on you. How easy it is for your friends to playfully shove your shoulder when you tell a joke, how they don’t hesitate to wrap you in a tight hug when you greet them, how they casually rest their chin or head on your shoulder and complain about everything that went wrong today. Fucking hates how confident people are as they try to flirt with you, how they could so easy articulate their attraction towards you in mere minutes when Simon can’t even do it in months. It makes him want to throw himself against a wall until his screwed up head fixes himself.

And you just look so happy. Smiling at your friends and returning the physical touches with ease. Face beaming with joy as you wrap someone in a hug or link their arm with yours. How you just fucking glow at the compliments given to you by your friends or a passing stranger in the street. He wishes so desperately that he could give you that, that he can casually walk into a room and tell you how fucking stunning you look instead of keeping it in his head. Wishes he could casually grab your hand without feeling like his skin was just dipped into a tub of acid. The only thing that keeps him together is your instant dismissal of anyone that tries to flirt with you, a proud look on your face as you say I have a boyfriend.

But he knows that it doesn’t look like it. Not when there is an obvious space between the two of you as you walk together. Not when he doesn’t make a single move to wrap his arm around you in a crowded space so you don’t get separated. He definitely screams boyfriend when he just watches someone come up to you and try to get into your pants instead of marking his claim on you. Safe to say, he doesn’t expect to find a Best Boyfriend Ever mug under the tree during the holidays this year. 

He knows it pains you too. Can see it every time you instinctively go to grab him only to stop midway through and you give him a bashful smile. Sees how painfully obvious it is when he comes back from deployment and you and him stand outside the terminal gate awkwardly because you don’t know how to greet him if it isn’t with a tight hug. It’s painted all over your face when the both of you are at a group hangout with friends and you watch with an envious gleam in your eyes how the couples are squished into each other’s sides or sitting in their laps. A sharp pain runs through his chest when he can’t even drape his arm over your shoulders to comfort you. He knows that the small smile you give him when you turn towards him is because you know he won’t, even if he really wants to. 

He hates that he can’t give you the simplest of things. Things that are supposed to be so natural in a relationship. Things that were promised to you when he asked you to be his partner. Things that make you so happy. He hates the idea that he’s robbed you of something. That something being a happy and normal relationship. That feeling builds and builds until he’s an insecure mess on your couch as you guys have a movie night.

You’re on opposite sides of the couch, something that makes him want to choke himself out. He’s spread out, arms thrown over the top of the sofa and legs spread. You’re pushed into the arm of the sofa, making sure none of your limbs touch him accidentally. He almost wants to throw up when the actors on screen run into each other’s arms and a small ‘aww’ leaves your lips with a dizzying smile. His hands clench and unclench as the movie ends. You sit up stretching and about to leave for a bathroom break before putting on the next movie when Simon speaks up. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your head snaps to him quickly, a confused furrow forming in between your brows. You’re about to open your mouth to question him when he continues, “I’m trying, but…it’s hard.”

It’s not much of a clarification, but you still understand what he’s talking about. A sympathetic smile comes across your face as you approach him. This time, you sit next to him but still not touching him. A tenseness leaves Simon’s body, preferring you close by even if he can’t touch you. You’re fully turned to him, a look of admiration on your face as you study him. The look ignites his soul and that little well of hate dries up the tiniest bit. 

“I know you have, and I’m so, so proud of you, Si.” The small tilt of your head and soft smile makes him want to nuzzle his face into your neck and shower you in his own praise. He knows he’s practically glowing from your words, and he can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed. 

“Still… I know how happy it would make you. Just… please.” He doesn't know when the lump formed in his throat, but he tries to subtly get rid of it. 

The way you melt into the couch also makes him melt into the fabric. The two of you study each other for a moment, taking in each other’s presence. Slowly you get up and Simon moves to get up too, a moment of panic running through his veins before it dies away when you grab his empty mug from the coffee table. You give him another soft smile as you hold the cup tightly in your grasp.

“Of course, Simon. Thank you for trying. Thank you for wanting to try for me. That is what makes me happy” 

You leave Simon there, excusing yourself to make him more tea and going to the bathroom. He sits and stares at the TV, a new feeling emerging in his chest. It pushes away the insecurity and that hatred and the jealousy. It expands until his own body is buzzy and a puff of air leaves him. Everything feels lighter, brighter now. This feeling is new. One so beautiful and consuming that he feels particularly at peace with it. Love, he thinks. He thinks it might just be love.

So when you come back to sit at his side, mindlessly blowing at the surface of his cup of tea before giving it to him, he lets the tips of his fingers purposely brush over yours. He holds your gaze, making sure you know it wasn’t an accident. A beaming smile forms on your face and he feels a smaller one form on the rim of his mug. He turns away then, sipping on his tea as you look for the next movie to put on. 

He doesn’t touch you again that night. But it still made all the difference. That one, singular touch was worth everything. 

The next night, he comes back to your apartment and stares down at the new mug that greeted him when he opened the cabinet. His finger rubs against the printed words with a lovesick smile. 

Best Boyfriend Ever.

I ♡ Simon Riley mug when???

[lovezbrownies]

Death after Love. ( Yan!Military Chief x GN!Reader)

Masterlist

Synopsis: The murder of a woman's spouse kills her sanity.

Military Chief Gen Ludenhart x GN!Reader

Warnings: Crazy Gen, Darling dies, torture.

Oh, how her darling has changed since Gen had taken them in. They’re more obedient now, won’t try to escape as much, don’t refuse her, stick by her side in public, and never speak to another soul other than her. You’ve been so good for her, following every rule she has spoken about, and even the rules left unspoken.

So why is she here with you again? In the basement where she used to punish you for your misdeeds. Gen can’t seem to recall, you haven’t done a thing when she picked you up and threw you onto the basement floor, you looked so confused. So petrified. Gen doesn’t remember a thing, she knows she returned home furious. She wanted to let out her anger, she knew that. But at her darling? Was she even thinking clearly?

Well, obviously not. Gen can’t stop panting, it felt like she used all her strength to do something just now. What was it? Is it the unidentified body lying in front of her? Is that what she fought? Did the body even fight back? No… It was just her pulling the punches. Punches? No, she didn’t punch, she bludgeoned, she cut, she broke the body.

The daze finally clears, and Gen knows this body. It’s you.

A scream echoes out, was that from her? Or maybe a maid unfortunate enough to see the absolute wreck that is your body. Blood is covering the floor, your face the only thing recognizable in this mess of gore.

No. You couldn’t be dead, she wouldn’t kill you. You’re too resilient for death, you have to be okay right?

Gen kneels down next to your lifeless body, “Honey. Honey. Honey. This isn’t funny, Honey. Get up or I-I’ll hurt you again. Please, please don’t leave me… Don’t tell me I did this, please get up, please tell me I didn’t do this, please say I love you.” Tears flow out of Gen’s sorrowful eyes, unable to comprehend the loss of her beautiful spouse. How can she be ungrateful for what she has- or one could say had. Gen never knew how to appreciate the good things in life, so maybe she deserved this. Gen deserved being the executor of her lover, because the universe knew, the gods knew, that the only way to calm her down is to bring down the most painful fate possible.

“...Please, w-we have so much a-ahead of us… Please baby, please… I p-promise I w-won’t hurt you again… Just please please come back to me, c-come back to your loving wife, I beg you…” The Ludenhart manor had become a shell of its former self, lacking the love and joy of Gen Ludenhart it dissipated into mold and dust.

[saintsenara]

Wait why are you not a fan of Snape and Hermione?? 2 nerds who care a socially awkward amount about the things they care about nerding out together at levels of romance people who can be chill and normal about things can’t comprehend?? It’s not one of my fav ships but I can definitely see it!

I headcanon that Snape picks on Hermione being a muggle raised know it all thirsty to prove and lacking self awareness because he was one himself when he arrived at school and James and Sirius picked on him for it! It’s like that you’re most repulsed by the things you’re self conscious of in yourself thing to me. Or maybe a him trying to live out being the “cool” one in that dynamic thing

But when she’s a grown woman and more self possessed like he became too I feel like that same energy ness has potential for love!

Hermione is famously respectful and compassionate enough towards all beings to be more understanding than say Lily Evans of his prickly tender ego if he had another m word style outburst and such a people pleaser she’d keep coming back for more snark as long as he peppered it with the odd encouraging compliment

And I feel like a Snape in reciprocated love could absolutely veer into inventing beautiful and helpful spells to impress his lover or sending “made me think of u 😘” notes with verses of elaborate obscure poetry territory that would be frankly the level of literary and academic courtship our Herms deserves 😌

Is it cause they’d both be the highly strung worrier one and they both need someone to ground them? Or maybe too pessimistic together and one of them needs to be the cheerful one?

anon, i genuinely love this for you - i'm always thrilled to get people explaining their love for ships in the ol' inbox, especially when they're ships i don't instinctively vibe with, and i have been won round to stranger premises than this by a passionate defence of why two characters should kiss.

where i still think snamione isn't clicking for me, however, is that the way you describe both snape and hermione here doesn't align in any significant way with what i personally think would be interesting to explore about either character in a relationship and have them still feel meaningfully like their canon selves.

[i will say, though - because i always think it's worth reiterating my fandom commitment towards being neither a cop nor a priest - that i literally don't give a shit about either the age gap or the student-teacher dynamic. i know that's an objection to pairings like snarry and snamione which lots of people do express. but i will never be one of them.]

the primary reason that i don't vibe with many of the more... sapiosexual hermione ships [by which i mean not only snamione but tomione] is that they hang on the idea that hermione's intellect expresses itself in a way we never actually see in canon.

or, the idea that snape and hermione are intellectually compatible [and that they would enjoy hanging out being nerdy about stuff] is just... not true.

throughout the seven-book canon, the way that hermione shows herself to be clever is that she displays an excellent memory and an enormous capacity to rote-learn. her intelligence is overwhelmingly demonstrated - both in the classroom and during the trio's year on the run - by her being able to regurgitate swathes of information, very usually verbatim from the source she got it from.

she is clearly able to use this ability to retain information to understand the theoretical component of magic in a way neither harry nor ron ever manage, and she is able to use this understanding of theory to work out how to perform spells which are ahead of her expected level on the hogwarts curriculum.

and this is intelligence - and i want to be very clear that i'm not trying to suggest that hermione shouldn't be thought of as intellectual, or that her academic achievements should be devalued. but it isn't the way snape's intelligence manifests itself.

because hermione is never shown - at any point in canon - to be a particularly creative or experimental thinker.

she places an enormous intellectual trust in disciplinary authority - teachers and textbooks - and is frequently rattled when these are revealed to be partial or incorrect, as we see in her shock at hogwarts: a history not mentioning house elves or her anger at harry getting better results by following the modified instructions in the prince's textbook [despite knowing nothing about the theory underpinning them] than she does with the "official" ones.

she also regards the gatekeeping of inquiry which disciplinary boundaries enforce to be a positive thing and she never displays any inclination to step beyond them. she dislikes the spells in the prince's textbook because they aren't ministry-approved - and i must say that i think the idea that she'd be won over by a man creating spells for her is wishful thinking...

she is immediately mistrustful of anything she can't find something she regards as an empirical source for - notice, for example, that she only comes round to the idea that prophecies might be real once she encounters them in the ministry of magic.

even when we see her using magic on her own terms - the jinx she uses on marietta edgecombe, for example; or the protean charm on the da coins - the magic she's using is sophisticated, and is being applied in a way which wouldn't be classroom-sanctioned, but it's not magic which is being used in a way which is removed from the spell's original purpose. the protean charm on the da coins is impressive because it's a flawless execution of newt-level magic by a sixteen-year-old. it's not impressive because hermione is using it in a strange, experimental, or radical way.

[in contrast, the dark mark - which harry notes the coins mimic - is clearly a spell voldemort himself invents.]

snape, on the other hand, is an experimenter. he's someone who clearly sees magic as a creative force which he has every right to shape as he sees fit by adaptation and invention. and he's someone who evidently rejects the logic of disciplinary gatekeeping - one tension in his relationship with dumbledore prior to half-blood prince is that snape evidently retains an enormous intellectual interest in the dark arts [which, as he tells us, are an area of magic which is feared precisely because they can't be neatly contained within disciplinary boxes - they are ever-changing, unfixed, mutating...]

and it's these conflicting views of what magic is and how it should be used and thought about which is the cause of the intellectual incompatibility we see between snape and hermione in canon.

he is unequivocally in the wrong for his dismissive classroom manner towards her - because he is an adult and she is a child. but he isn't wrong in principle that hermione just repeating what she's read in the textbook and refusing to synthesise her knowledge [she always goes massively over word limits! she never gives answers in class in her own words!] isn't actually a demonstration that she understands the material. [and therefore something a good teacher would guide her through conquering... snape having no interest in doing this is his own fault.]

and - from a snamione-specific perspective - it's all the evidence snape needs that, actually, they're not going to enjoy hanging out chatting about academic pursuits. hermione values knowledge like a dragon hoards treasure. snape wants to take that treasure, melt it down, and turn it into new and weird things.

once again, i don't think this a flaw in either of their characters - it's just something which is. and i don't think it's an insurmountable obstacle to writing snamione, because i believe any ship is possible if an author has enough nerve. but it's an aspect of both characters' canon personalities [and hermione's above all] which never seems to make it into snamione fics - all of which, as far as i've encountered them, are beholden to an idea of hermione's approach to academia which is considerably more flexible than we actually see in the books.

of your other points, i'm not particularly convinced by the idea that snape sees his younger self in the teenage hermione. this isn't just for the reasons outlined above - hermione isn't trying to prove herself in the same way he was, which was by creating and experimenting in a bid to be noticed and considered impressive - but also because of the massive gulf in their respective class backgrounds.

hermione is really posh - and, while she's obviously subjected to discrimination at hogwarts on account of her blood-status, she also comes from a family with both the financial resources and the cultural language to make her familiar with the vibe of the elite muggle boarding schools hogwarts is a pastiche of.

the teen snape - in contrast - stands out from his cohort in that he is visually identifiable as working-class [which does appear to be genuinely unusual at hogwarts]. his class background is something which clearly drove a lot of the marauders' bullying of him [i'm sorry to the girlies who think james and sirius targeted him out of some righteous desire to stamp out his prejudice - it was because he was poor and uncouth] and which he still has a chip on his shoulder about as an adult.

this - again - is not an insurmountable barrier to a snamione relationship [as it's not a barrier to thousands of real-world partnerships and friendships]. but it is something an author needs to grapple with if they want to make the pairing - at least, in my opinion - seem plausible. but the standard vibe seems to be that snape would be comfortable in the grangers' home fairly quickly, and that he'd be delighted to have hermione swanning around offering suggestions for how they could do up spinner's end... instead of him resenting this as the unwelcome meddling of people who've never had to worry for money.

i'm also not particularly convinced by the idea that hermione would get over being called a mudblood - especially by an adult man. while i think it's completely plausible that she'd handle this differently than lily [although lily's reaction is entirely justified - and i don't think we should throw the baby out with the bathwater of contextualising the teenage snape and the motivating factors behind his decisions by pretending that cutting off your friend because he called you a slur is a petty, ill-thought-out, or unreasonable move], i don't think that her reaction would be automatically forgiving.

hermione is compassionate towards kreacher when he calls her a mudblood because kreacher is a slave, whose prejudicial views are inextricably bound up in the magic used to oppress him [i.e. that if he received an order to use the term, or to refuse to serve a muggleborn food, from his masters, he would have to punish himself violently if he disobeyed it]. she is not - quite rightly! - compassionate towards someone like draco malfoy when he calls her one, since he is a free person with full agency to choose not to do this.

could she forgive him - or snape - for using the term? sure! absolutely! but i don't think it's a given - and i also think she'd expect a demonstration of how sorry snape was which wouldn't necessarily align with how he'd think he'd demonstrated his regret.

i do agree that - as you say - hermione is a people-pleaser, and she definitely has a far greater tolerance for being treated cruelly by people she wants to impress [especially authority figures - including snape himself] than either harry or ron. and i think this has the potential to introduce an extremely thorny dynamic into a snamione fic - in which the power dynamic inherent in the age gap [which, to reiterate, i think is completely fine for an author to enjoy] is compounded by hermione being unwilling to anger or contradict snape [which is a vibe - as i've said in answer to an ask about harmony - we also see in her relationship with harry... it's also obviously exactly how snape's relationship with dumbledore works.]

on a couple of the more minor characterisation notes, i'm afraid that the idea of snape as a great romantic has never hit for me. it seems really bound up in the way alan rickman portrayed him in the films, which i've always found a bit toothless. i also don't like the trope of "actually snape's really hot" which seems to always accompany it - ugly, odd men to get to bone too!

[what he would be - i think - is a magpie. get ready to be handed odd stones and bits of leaves on dates.]

i also think they're highly-strung in ways which differ enough to mean they'd just annoy each other. hermione is highly-strung in that she flusters easily and is very poor under pressure, but she's actually pretty emotionally stable [and i'd dispute that she's a pessimist - this is a girl who thinks that she's successfully eradicating slavery at hogwarts by knitting hats; she's pretty robust, funny, cheerful, and idealistic]. snape is highly-strung in that he has a hair-trigger temper and is very emotionally volatile, but he's obviously an extraordinarily good liar, very quick on his feet, and very good under pressure. he'd think she panicked too much [and over insignificant things he didn't care about], she'd think he tanked the vibe of a date by taking offence at someone breathing too loudly.

where are they similar? well, they have a shared self-serving streak [hermione is appalled by behaviour from harry and ron she considers perfectly moral when she does it]; capacity for cruelty; tendency towards secrecy; tendency towards pettiness and pleasure in the misfortune of others; loathing of flying a broom; cutting sense of humour; stubbornness; resilience; clear dislike of slumming it in nature; love of puzzles; and a weakness for red hair.

i think you could make it work on the grounds that they'd probably have the time of their lives being haters together - especially, i feel, about rita skeeter.

and - y'know - because love is weird.

[80pairsofcrocs]

baby scarab || 68

A/N - so we are traveling the multiverse...

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

A/N : i dont deserve you guys omg, i have missed you all so so much <3

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, let me know if i missed anything

~~~

You stand there, feeling the weight of the revelation pressing down on your chest like a leaden anchor. The flickering torches in the temple cast shadows that dance ominously on the walls, echoing your tumultuous thoughts. Khonshu's intense gaze feels almost judgmental, stirring the pot of your frustration further. 

Taweret attempts to soothe the growing storm within you, but it’s like trying to calm a tempest with a whisper. You can’t shake the idea from your mind—that maybe, just maybe, you were the reason for their sudden departure.

“Perhaps you should consider the circumstances,” Khonshu interjects, his voice deep and resonant, but this only amplifies your resentment. “Marc is caught in a cycle he cannot control. He fears for your safety.” 

Your heart aches at the mention of your dad, the man who fought every monster and shadow for your sake. But this very fight had carved lines of darkness into his spirit, and it’s painful to comprehend that your absence may have been the tipping point. Suddenly, anxiety surges, and you feel a tightening in your throat. “But I’m here! I could’ve helped! I could’ve been there for him!”

Taweret’s eyes soften, and for a moment, the ancient deity feels like the most compassionate of friends rather than a divine entity. “Your love is powerful, dear child. But know that sometimes, those we love carry burdens we cannot lift for them.” Her words settle over you, both comforting and challenging, a reminder that there are things even hugs and reassurances cannot mend.

In that moment, you resolve to take action—not out of anger, but out of a desire to bridge the gap. 

“I need to talk to them,” you declare, your voice steadier than you feel. “I’ll figure out a way to reach them in America, to remind them they are not alone.” As you turn to Khonshu and Taweret, determination ignites a new fire in your chest. “They may need help, but so do I. If they can leave, then I can go to them.” 

The ancient gods exchange glances, and for an instant, you see admiration flickering in Khonshu’s steadfast eyes, while Taweret nods earnestly. Maybe, just maybe, you have inherited more than the resilience of a warrior. 

You have inherited the strength to face the unknown, to connect the strings of love that bind your fractured family, and to affirm what you know deep down: love, even amid chaos, endures.

~~~

As Marc and Layla continued to navigate the strange streets of Chicago, an unsettling chill settled in the air, creeping beneath their skin. Shadows stretched and contorted against the fading sunlight, creating a canvas of anxiety that whispered of something ominous lurking just out of sight. 

With every step, Marc felt the ripples of his own doubts and fears pooling in his chest—fears that had crept up on him since they'd crossed into this unfamiliar dimension. He glanced at Layla, and the concern etched across her features ignited a spark within him—the need to protect her—yet he was plagued by uncertainty. “What if we don’t find our way back?” he muttered, mostly to himself.

When they reached a small park blanketed in fallen leaves, the atmosphere shifted. The silence was suffocating as if the world had held its breath. Layla’s grip tightened around Marc’s hand, the warmth of her presence a fragile tether to reality. 

“Something is definitely wrong,” she reiterated, her voice low and urgent. “I can feel it.” With a sudden resolve, she turned to face him, her eyes aflame with determination. “We need to get to the bottom of this. If Taweret isn’t responding, there’s a chance the balance is utterly thrown off. We can’t stay idle. What if this is connected to y/n?”

Marc swallowed hard, the pang of his daughter’s name igniting fresh worry within him. “You know, I tried to reach her too—with no success.” He looked down the dimming path, frustration churning in his gut. 

“Do you think… could something have happened to her? To us? What if our absence has left something open, something we can’t see?” He felt a deep unease settling in, rooted in the idea that their family—his family—was teetering on the edge without them, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out.

Just as the thoughts darkened, a flicker of movement caught Marc’s eye—a figure darting behind a tree, obscured by the evening haze. Heart racing, he pointed it out to Layla. “Did you see that?” The air felt electric, charged with an anticipatory energy that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. 

He took a cautious step forward, trying to distinguish friend from foe, but before he could act, a low, guttural growl reverberated through the quiet, wrapping around them like a noose. The shadows deepened as if mocking their cautious exploration, and Marc was suddenly struck by an overwhelming certainty: they were not alone. 

In that moment, he understood the truth of their predicament. This wasn’t just a wrong turn or a simple dimensional hiccup. Something sinister awaited them, a force that sensed their vulnerability. Whatever had drawn them into this realm had its very own agenda, and with every tick of the clock, Marc felt an impending disaster lurking just beyond the fading light—a disaster that could tear his family apart for good. 

Desperation surged through him; he needed to act swiftly.  And with that realization, something primal awakened within him—a determination to fight, not just for their return, but for every second they might lose if they didn’t escape the shadows looming closer with every passing breath.

“Is that…?” Layla asks, holding Marc’s hand a little tighter. 

“It can’t be…”

It was him. 

Arthur Harrow… but he wasn’t alone. 

You were with him.

“You’re not our y/n… you can’t be—where are we?!” Marc demands to know, stepping in front of Layla protectively. His heart races as the weight of two worlds collides, an unsettling blend of familiarity and disarray swirling around them. 

The distorted lighting of the dimly lit alley distorted the figures before them, casting eerie shadows that danced against the cracked brick walls like specters of the past.

A smirk curls on Harrow’s lips, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mix of triumph and pity. “Ah, Marc, dear boy. You don’t recognize your own memories? This is a realm woven from the threads of what could have been—a universe where Y/N chose a different path.” He gestures toward you, and for the first time, the sight of you sends a shiver down Marc's spine. 

The way you stand beside Harrow, seemingly at ease, ignites a flicker of doubt. Had you truly turned against them, or was there something darker lurking beneath the surface, a manipulation lurking just out of sight?

“Y/N…no,” Layla whispers, her voice trembling with disbelief as she studies your expression, desperately searching for the essence of the person they had loved and relied on. But the aura radiating from you and Harrow felt foreign, and yet unnervingly familiar. “What have you done?” Her gaze flickers to Harrow, her mind racing to the implications of this twisted reality. 

The air thickens, heavy with an unspoken challenge as you step forward, your eyes glinting with a strange resolve that neither Marc nor Layla had ever witnessed. “This is not about what I’ve done,” you assert, each word deliberate as if unveiling a hidden truth. “This is about what you both failed to see—the potential of embracing darkness to create light.”

Marc takes a step back, a whirlwind of emotions crashing through him. Letting go of Layla’s hand feels unthinkable, yet the pull of your magnetic presence is both unsettling and irresistible. What you appear to offer—the chance to rewrite fate—thrums in the depths of his mind. Time slows as he balances between the echoes of shared laughter and the specters of past choices—a disparate motif drumming a chaos only he seems to feel. 

In that moment, reality feels as if it's splitting at the seams, inviting them to ponder a question that they could have never prepared for: Was the path to salvation more than just battles fought in the shadows, and was it perhaps hidden in the embrace of the very darkness they fought against?

~~~

Meanwhile as you had gone and asked for help, reaching out to Peter with the situation, telling you he knew a guy, you found yourself standing nervously in front of the London sanctum. Peter had assured you he could assist, emphasizing the importance of not messing up the mysterious ritual. 

Gently, you knocked on the imposing giant doors, watching in awe as they opened slowly on their own, almost beckoning you inside. Taking a cautious look around, you entered the building at a deliberate pace, the doors closing with a resounding thud behind you. As your eyes wandered around the grand interior, a man clad in a blue suit and a striking red cape floated gracefully down the staircase. 

"Y/n y/l/n, I anticipated your arrival," he addressed you, standing a few feet away. Anxious to get answers, you anxiously started, "So... you can help me? Where are my parents?" The man raised a hand to signal for quiet, interrupting your inquiry. 

"First, there's something you must understand – your parents are not within this realm," he disclosed cryptically. Stunned, you stammered, "What? No greeting, no introduction?" Irritated, he rolled his eyes before speaking with a touch of sarcasm, "Stephen Strange. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

“Yeah okay- obviously you know who I am already, so just tell me how I can bring them back,” you demand, the urgency evident in your voice as you take another determined step closer. 

“It’s not that simple. Without knowing where exactly they are, we won’t know where to go,” Stephen explains, his tone tinged with a mixture of compassion and practicality.

“Then find out!” Your impatience boils over, the desperation to reunite with your missing parents fueling your outburst. “They are my parents- I need them back!”

Stephen sighs, a shared sense of understanding passing between you both. “I empathize with your situation but it’s just not that simple. After I open the portal, you’ll need to navigate through the unknown to locate the universe they inhabit and then safely return here.”

You shift your weight impatiently, resolve shining in your eyes as you respond without hesitation, “I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring them back.”

Stephen arches an eyebrow, recognizing the unwavering determination in your gaze. Leading you towards a separate chamber, he prepares you for the challenges ahead. “It won’t be an easy journey. There will be sights that may haunt you. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I've already witnessed my biological father rising from the dead; I believe I can handle whatever lies ahead,” you assure him confidently, the memory of that astonishing event reinforcing your brave front.

Nodding at your resolve, Stephen gestures grandly, conjuring a mesmerizing display of orange and yellow sparks that converge to form a shimmering portal. As the portal expands to human-sized proportions, he steps back, the preparation complete.

Handing you a sleek triangular device, he cautions, “After you locate your parents, ensure that all of you touch this device and press the button simultaneously. It will transport you back through the portal to safety here.”

Gratefully accepting the device, you secure it in your jacket pocket, the weight of the mission ahead settling on your shoulders. “Thank you,” you express sincerely.

“Don’t mention it,” Stephen replies casually, motioning towards the now-glowing portal. “Good luck on your interdimensional journey, arachnid.”

Stepping resolutely into the portal, you pause, surprised by the revelation of your alter ego that Stephen casually drops. “Um, thanks for the support.”

With a nod of acknowledgment, you take the final step into the unknown, ready to traverse the intricate web of the multiverse in pursuit of your beloved parents.

~~~

Back with Marc and Layla, the tension in the room thickened as Steven and Jake continued to remain mysteriously absent, granting Marc full dominion over the body. This newfound authority weighed heavily on Marc, visible in the way his shoulders tensed and his every movement exuded uncertainty.

The second y/n, her laughter ringing ominously through the air, moved closer towards the bewildered couple. A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she taunted Marc Spector, a name from a past that now seemed distant and yet hauntingly familiar. "I never thought I'd witness that look of disbelief on your face again, Marc Spector. Not since the day I extinguished your life," she chuckled darkly, twirling a dagger nonchalantly in her hand.

The widening eyes of Marc and Layla betrayed their escalating horror as the truth unfolded before them. "You... we... we're deceased in this realm? You ended my life?!" Marc's voice quivered with a blend of fear and disbelief, his world shattering into a million fractured pieces.

"It was a simple feat. You were so naïve, so easily deceived. Even Steven and Jake fell into my trap without a hint of suspicion," the mysterious figure, now identified as Harrow, reassured with a cold grip on the other y/n's shoulder. "Now, Khonshu and the others bow to my will - a reality beyond your grasp." Her laughter, tinged with madness, echoed hauntingly in the confined space, sending shivers down Layla's spine.

Layla, her voice laced with urgency and desperation, stepped forward in a bid to plead for reason. "Please, think about this. We are not meant to linger here. Allow us the chance to find our way back to where we belong."

Dismissing Layla's plea with a disdainful scoff, the other y/n's gaze darkened with a resolute finality. "This is not a dilemma we concern ourselves with. This time, the veil between life and death shall not be breached again," she stated coldly, her eyes narrowing as Harrow silently signaled permission for a potentially fatal encounter.

The impending danger loomed menacingly as Harrow's chilling smile and the ominous words she imparted to the other y/n set the stage for a confrontation that could tilt the scales of fate irreversibly. "Show them no mercy," instructed Harrow, the weight of her authority palpable in those words.

The other y/n, bearing the weight of a deeply woven past and an uncertain future, responded to Harrow's command with a stoic assurance. "As you wish, father," she affirmed, her resolve unwavering as she prepared to execute a fate that could seal the doomed couple's existence in the enigmatic realm they were trapped in.

~~~

You blink a few times as you enter the new world, the unfamiliar surroundings painting a scene of wonder and intrigue before you. 

Looking around the building you’re in, your eyes linger on the intricate design of the architecture, the way the light filters in from the skylights above casting patterns on the floor beneath your feet. Your breath catches at the grandeur of it all, a whispered "woah" escaping your lips as you try to take it all in.

Taking a few hesitant steps forward, your senses are overloaded with the sights and sounds of this strange place. A low hum fills the air as a floating platform descends gracefully from the tall opening in the ceiling, the soft glow of its runes illuminating the space around you. On the platform, you spot a man standing tall, his expression a mix of curiosity and bemusement as he gazes down at you. 

Beside him stands another figure, much smaller in stature but no less intriguing, their eyes fixed on you with a mixture of wariness and fascination. As you stand there, the weight of the unknown pressing in around you, you can't help but feel a sense of exhilaration mingled with trepidation. 

"Dad..? Is that you?" you called out eagerly, your heart racing with anticipation as the platform steadily approached. Drawing nearer, a mixture of hope and doubt churned within you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. 

However, as the figure on the approaching platform became clearer, revealing features that bore no resemblance to your father, a wave of disappointment washed over you.

"Do I look like your dad?" he asks sarcastically, a playful glint in his eye, as you shake your head in response. Meanwhile, the tiny floating woman, with her ethereal presence, seems to defy the laws of physics by almost teleporting right into your face. Startled, you take a step back, a mix of surprise and intrigue dancing in your eyes.

"Aww! Look how cute she is!" the tiny woman exclaims, her voice overflowing with a sense of wonder and delight. As she gushes over your mystical visitor, golden sparks of pure magic emanate from her essence, casting a mesmerizing glow around her petite form.

"Uh.. weird question-“ you start to ask tentatively, your words trailing off as the weight of the larger man's presence fills the small space around you. His stern demand to "Zip it" echoes in the cramped room, silencing any further inquiries for the moment. As you gather your thoughts under the intensity of his gaze, you can't help but feel a knot of apprehension tighten in your gut.

"How’d you find this place?” The larger man steps off the platform, stopping maybe a foot away from you, his navy and red suits boots creaking slightly under his weight as he gazes down at you with a discerning look etched across his weathered face. 

As you stood there in the dimly lit room, a sense of urgency tugged at your heartstrings. "I'm just looking for my dad, man," you uttered softly, the words hanging heavy in the air.

"Did Peter B recruit you?” He asks, his voice laced with an undertone of suspicion as he eyed you intently, searching for any subtle signs of betrayal in your expression.

"Who?" you ask innocently, feigning ignorance to mask the rapid beating of your heart that threatened to give away your ruse.

The man’s body tenses almost imperceptibly at your response, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before the smooth mask of his suit shifts in a mechanical motion to cover his face. The sudden movement sends a shiver down your spine, a silent warning that you were playing a dangerous game with dangerous people.

"Whoa, dude, can you please calm down? I assure you, I have no intention of causing any harm." Your voice wavers slightly as you instinctively raise your hands up as a gesture of surrender before the intense situation.

Observing your reaction, he tilts his head in curiosity, taking a step closer, while the small floating woman, who seems to possess a wisdom beyond her appearance, chooses this moment to interject. "Miguel, come on, ease up a bit. Can't you see that shes, like, a child? There's no need for the gwumpy face,” she remarks, crossing her arms in a display of playfully authoritative posture.

As you press the intricate button on your ring with a sense of familiarity, you feel a rush of anticipation building up within you. The signal triggers a swift and elegant transformation process, like a metallic dance enveloping your body. 

The special material of your spider suit elegantly molds itself around you, its unique design serving both form and function. Ensuring every crevice fits snugly and each joint moves with precision, you witness the suit's shimmering surface gleaming in the dim light.

In response to your transformation, the man known only as Miguel reacts with a subtle yet noticeable gesture, raising an eyebrow beneath the mysterious cover of his mask. Slowly, deliberately, he strides toward you with an air of confidence, his movements calculated and purposeful. The space between you diminishes until you can feel the solid wall pressing against your back, a physical barrier raising your awareness.

“Tell me how you found us,” he orders, his tone firm and commanding. “Now,” he demands, his eyes piercing and unwavering.

"Listen, Miguel," you begin nervously, your voice quivering slightly. "I'm just trying to find my dad," you explain, a hint of desperation creeping into your tone.

“Well, he’s not here,” Miguel interrupts abruptly, his expression hardened, leaving no room for negotiation.

As you process his words, a flood of emotions washes over you. Disappointment, frustration, and a lingering sense of determination swirl within you. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before responding.

"Then I'll be on my way," you assert calmly, despite the turmoil swirling inside you.

"You know where the spider society is, I'm afraid you can't leave just yet,” he says sternly as his mask slides back into place, hiding the intensity of his gaze. He watches you intently, unyielding in his stance.

You begin to assure him, “I'm not going to tell anyone about this, I promise—" but he cuts you off, his voice unwavering, “We can't trust that—trust you to keep this secret safe.” 

"Just let her go, Miguel," the small woman interrupted, her voice tinged with a sense of urgency as she hovered by Miguel's shoulder. Your exasperated sigh filled the tense air, a subtle indicator of your frustration in the face of this unexpected encounter.

"I'm not from this universe; I'm simply navigating my way back to my parents," you explained, your tone pleading for understanding. 

Miguel's focused gaze remains fixed on you as he calmly reaches out to operate a button situated on his sleek desk, instantly deactivating the petite woman standing nearby with a swift motion. His mask smoothly slides back into place, concealing any hint of emotion on his stoic face.

Within the blink of an eye, he lunges aggressively towards you, his hands grabbing your shoulders with a forceful grip before deftly spinning you around and forcefully pressing your back against the cold, forbidding wall.

Reacting swiftly and instinctively, you adeptly duck and drop to the ground, maneuvering out of his grasp just in time to evade the sharp, menacing claws that scrape menacingly against the protective metal surface of your suit.

With skilled agility, you roll skillfully out from under his towering figure as he whirls around in search of apprehending you again, his intent clear in his predatory movements, poised for another attempt to capture you. In your hands, you deftly produce the invaluable portal device, a powerful tool that may be your key to escape or turn the tables in this tense confrontation.

Miguel's swift and aggressive move caught you off guard as he tackled you to the floor, causing your grip to loosen and the device slipped out of your hand, falling with a clatter. Your immediate protest was cut short by his forceful action as he hoisted you up by your arm, his grip a vice as he pushed you back against the unyielding wall. 

The word "stay" was a command that brooked no defiance, echoing with a threatening undertone that sent shivers down your spine.

As Miguel turned away, a surge of adrenaline propelled you into action, your instincts screaming at you to seize the opportunity to escape. You slipped away noiselessly, stealthily retrieving the precious device, your fingers trembling slightly with a mix of fear and determination. The button under your touch felt both familiar and alien, a key to another reality beckoning with unknown possibilities.

With a quick press, the device came to life, emitting a soft hum that seemed to vibrate in tune with the escalating beating of your heart. The split-second decision had been made, and as the world around you shimmered and twisted, Miguel's approaching footsteps were the last evidence of the reality you left behind.

One universe down.. many more to go.

~~~

In the alternate reality, where the version of 'you' present had decidedly not shown mercy towards Marc and Layla, an intense confrontation unfolded. Jake found himself in a pressing situation where he had to take command of the shared body to thwart the aggressive actions of the other 'you' without causing significant harm. 

This pivotal event took place just a mere hour in the past, yet its repercussions and the adrenaline of the moment still lingered in the cramped surroundings of their hideout.

Currently seeking refuge inside a nondescript gas station, Jake and Layla tried to find a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos. The air was heavy with tension as they sipped on the subpar coffee available at the establishment, the bitter liquid providing a stark contrast to the bitter circumstances surrounding them. 

Despite the apparent calmness that now enveloped the space they were in, both Layla and Jake knew that danger still lurked just beyond the walls of their temporary sanctuary. Each sip of coffee served as a bitter reminder of the harrowing events that had transpired, emphasizing the need for them to remain vigilant and stay on guard. 

Jake's frantic pacing came to a halt as he voiced his inner turmoil, feeling the weight of responsibility for Y/N's safety pressing down on him. "What do we do?" he questioned, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. The thought of leaving Y/N alone in an unknown place gnawed at his conscience, clouding his mind with worry.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Jake's nerves became apparent through his restless rambling, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. Layla, recognizing the unease plaguing Jake, reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. Her touch, warm and reassuring, offered a sense of solace amidst the chaos that swirled around them.

“We can't just leave Y/N behind. How are we going to make it back?” Jake's words revealed the depth of his concern, his eyes darting around in search of a solution to their predicament. The uncertainty of their situation loomed large, casting a shadow over their plans and testing their resolve.

Layla's soothing response broke through the fog of doubt that clouded Jake's mind, her voice calm and steady as she assured him, “We'll find a way back, and I'm certain that Y/N is capable enough to handle whatever comes her way. She's a strong, capable young woman, and we have to trust in her strength."

Jake, feeling a surge of gratitude for Layla's unwavering support, let her words wash over him, a beacon of hope in the midst of uncertainty. The weight of responsibility began to lift slightly from his shoulders as he absorbed her calm reassurances, a glimmer of optimism shining through the darkness of doubt.

“I know. you're.. right,” Jake acknowledged, his voice softer now, tinged with a sense of relief. Running a hand wearily down his face, he exhaled heavily, a semblance of peace settling upon him. In Layla's presence, he found a sense of clarity and comfort, her unwavering belief in their ability to overcome obstacles serving as a guiding light in their journey back to safety.

Layla let out a gentle sigh, her brows furrowed with genuine concern as she inquired, "And how about the others? Are they doing alright?" Her voice held a note of apprehension, betraying her worry for the well-being of their companions.

Jake gave a slight nod, his expression grave yet reassuring. "They seem to have settled down for now. It might be best if they stay put for a while," he remarked, his hand mimicking a tear sliding down his cheek as he referenced Steven without directly naming him. The gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air, palpable in his somber demeanor.

In response, Layla let out a soft chuckle, her laughter mingling with a hint of fond exasperation. "Don't be too hard on him," she chided gently, her words laced with empathy. 

"It's perfectly natural to feel overwhelmed and show emotion in times like these-“ Her gaze softened as she defended Steven, a touch of understanding in her voice that spoke volumes about her compassionate nature towards their friend's vulnerability.

"He cries at movies," Jake cuts her off with a chuckle, his eyes glistening as he recalls the emotional scenes that always tug at his heartstrings.

"So do I," Layla replies, her voice warm and understanding, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. She mirrors Jake's gestures, placing her hands on her hips in solidarity.

Jake, ever the skeptic, rolls his eyes at Layla's response, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he dismisses her comments. Their banter is light-hearted and filled with shared moments of teasing and laughter.

"We’ll be okay," she assures him with a gentle smile, her expression filled with a comforting warmth that enveloped them both. Her eyes sparkled with a glimmer of hope, sending a silent reassurance to Jake. It was a small gesture, but it carried a weight of sincerity that eased the tension in the air.

Jake, catching her gaze, felt a sense of calm wash over him. He recognized the unspoken promise in her eyes, a promise of unwavering support and solidarity. Somehow, her simple words held a profound significance, grounding him amidst the uncertainty of the moment.

With a subtle nod, Jake acknowledged her words, his own silent agreement reflecting in his eyes. It was a mutual understanding that transcended spoken language, a shared belief in their ability to weather whatever challenges lay ahead.

In that fleeting moment of connection, they found solace in each other's presence, drawing strength from the unspoken bond between them. It was a poignant reminder of the power of human connection, of the comfort that can be found in a shared smile and a knowing look.

And as they faced the unknown future together, they held onto that shared assurance, a simple yet profound declaration that echoed in their hearts: "We’ll be okay."

~~~

A/N - OOPS CLIFFHANGER!!!!! next part out hopefully by NOVEMBER 25th!!! i love you all so much, i cant wait to see feedback on the new writing style and about the story :)

~~~

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[auras-moonstone]

Hii I have a request 😊😊. Can u write something based on the line from my tears ricochet that says “you had to kill me but it killed you just the same” and either Ethan or y/n can be the one to kill each other whichever ur feelin!! And maybe y/n can be related to a past killer like jill or smt… whatever ur feelin 🥰🥰

three years since folklore came out, and i still can’t comprehend how taylor swift wrote this song and then expected us to move on. anyways, hope you like it🫶🏻🤍

my tears ricochet — ethan landry

word count: 489

pairing: gf!ethan landry x fem!reader

based on: my tears ricochet by taylor swift

Y/N ROBERTS KNEW THAT THE SIGNS HAD BEEN TOO OBVIOUS AND THE BLAME WAS ON HER FOR IGNORING THEM. All of the times he was conveniently missing during an attack, or when he magically appeared to save her just in time. It had been right in front of her face that Ethan Landry, her boyfriend, was one of the killers.

“I trusted you, Ethan. I defended you to my friends. I do not deserve the hell you gave me.” she tried not cry and shake as she held her knife high. Ethan had cornered her, and not precisely to talk. He was going to kill her. “I loved you.”

“I love you too, baby. And you can get out of this alive, you just have to join us. Make your older sister proud” Ethan tried to persuade her, he really did not want to kill her.

“Jill stabbed me seven times!” Y/N spat in anger. “She killed our mom, tried to kill our cousin. She was a psychopath.”

“Please, Y/N. Just join us.” he begged.

“No” Y/N was not going to change her mind.

“I’m sorry, love, but then you leave me no other choice” Ethan tackled her to the ground, and she fought hard to avoid being stabbed “Stop fighting!” he yelled as she cried and kicked.

Y/N recalled the words Ethan had told her a couple of days ago, in the back of an ambulance, after she had managed to knock out Ghostface all alone in her apartment. “You used to tell me I was brave for fighting the killer on my own.”

Her words broke Ethan, and his gaze fell on the ‘e’ chain that hanged around her neck. He had the same one, only with her initial. It had been a gift from her, for his birthday “I’m sorry. I love you, but I have to do this. For my brother. For my family.”

Her tears turned into his as he pierced his girlfriend’s heart with the knife. Y/N’s sparkling eyes turned lifeless, and her once warm fingers eventually turned cold. The arms that used to hug him tightly fell limp, and the red lips that had explored every inch of his skin were now a shade of blue. The person who had made him feel alive was dead.

It had been a ghostly scene that, even after months, still haunted him. Ethan still cursed her name, wishing she had accepted his offer to run away with him, wishing she had stayed.

When he couldn’t sleep at night, Ethan sometimes talked to her, looking up at the sky. He told her about how his day went, and his rants always ended with an apology. And he always fell asleep listening to the playlist they had made together.

He felt empty. He didn’t understand how it was possible to miss someone so much. He saw her everywhere, everyday. The guilt and regret was burning him alive.

Ethan had to kill her, but it killed him just the same.