#This has been sitting in my ask box FOREVER because I never had an idea for it until now

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

Omg what would yandere class 1a think if yn was the ua traitor ??

Short answer is, they probably wouldn't even spare a second thought to the idea. No, it would never be you, not their sweet and adorable (Y/N)!

They monitor you so closely all the time--I'm talking around the clock stalking every hour of every day--that even if you could be the traitor, they would have seen you sneaking off to report back to the villains or you acting shady. They also so deeply believe in the idea that you the best thing that ever happened to them, that you would never betray your friends and secret admirers like that. You are too sweet, too gentle, and too much of a good person to be secretly slinking around with the villains.

If you aren't the traitor, then no harm and no foul! Everything can proceed as normal--sunshine, smiles, happiness, and all that good stuff.

However, if you are the traitor...that's okay too! They're so in denial about your heartbreaking betrayal, that they refuse to believe you would do it of your free will. The villains must be forcing you to do it! Maybe they're threating your life or the safety of your friends and family so they can get the intel they need from the Hero Society and UA from this defenseless student! Oh, you must be so scared, too afraid that something would happen to you or them that you never peeped for their help! How they have failed you...don't worry, they'll make it alright! They aren't heroes-in-training for nothing.

First, they would put you under lockdown. You are not leaving the security room they prepare for you ever again. The door has at least ten locks and latches sealing it closed. All the windows are forcefully bolted down so you can't open them. It's basically all babyproofed--floors are padded, no sharp edges on the furniture or walls, no glass (even the windows are a thick, practically unbreakable sheets of plastic), and no sharp objects that you could hurt yourself with! It is their version of paradise and your worst nightmare.

They would let the teachers know of the situation. After Aizawa does some digging to find out who the leader of the operation truly is, the staff of UA would proceed with exterminating the members and leaders of the villain group and cut any ties with any contact you have in the outside world. They aren't going to release the horrible information to the public as they don't want to completely destroy your life (or catch the attention of the press and cops of their kidnapping of you), but they also would not let you continue to train to be a hero. It's too dangerous, and they don't want to teach you anymore ways to fight back against them then you already know. Basically, you become the class pet, of sorts--hella spoiled but never allowed to leave their side.

Some of the less delusional individuals of the class like Shinsou and Bakugo are fully aware that you weren't forced to betray them; they know you did it of your own freedom, but they never mention it directly to you. Rather, whenever you catch their eyes, you can see the swirling hurt behind the glassiness of their irises. They hate that you would do this to them--give up your friends for a shot a being a goody two shoes for the villains. Hell, they almost completely hate you for it. But, it's fine. They still love you they always will, even though you've made it clear you don't feel the same about any of them. They just have to retrain you, teach you to know better so that mishaps like this never occur again. In time, you'll be the (Y/N) they fell in love with again. They can wait.

Every time they have their turn to hold or interact with you, they're just slightly more forceful in their movements and words than the rest of the class. They make sure you know that they could snap you like a toothpick and glue you back together again the way they want, if it comes to it. Eventually, they will lighten up and act the way they used to with you, but for those first few months after they discover that you were the UA traitor, the bruises their grip strength give you and the remarks about "behaving" properly they hiss into your ears aren't going away.

With Love,

Kraken 🐙

[shadowbriar]

James Potter - Call It Fate, Call It Karma

Pairing : James Potter x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 3k Warning : Plenty of curse words. Synopsis : James' world was flipped upside down as the engagement ring now sits on the wrong girl's finger. Notes : Post no 4 for my 1 Year Anniversary Celebration. Don't forget to fill the form here if you'd like to be tagged for my future works. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ James Potter's Masterlist click here. Taglist : @jsjcue @ell0ra-br3kk3r @sofiacblair @coffeehurricanes @ineedmentalhelp123

James stares at his own reflection, whispering silent prayers as if they were a magic spell to help ground himself, tame the loud beating of his heart and provide the least bit of tranquillity for his troubled mind. It has been days since he’s got a good sleep. The days coming to Remus’ wedding have acted like a ticking time bomb, building anticipation of the apocalypse bound to happen once it explodes.

He wasn’t sure exactly the cause of his consternation. He supposed, wanting to get on your knees and ask your lover for their hand in marriage will surely cause you waves of jitters. The black velvet box in his pocket feels heavier each time he tries to silently reach for it. But could that be it? Could his nervousness to propose to Lily be the sole cause of his distress?

“You’re going to be alright,” James mutters to himself, taking deep breaths between his words “She’s not going to be here.”

A hard slap to his own cheek was done at the realisation of his words. Why would he say that? Why would he even think of her? He has Lily and his mother’s diamond ring to think about. How could she even slip herself in his mind at times like this?

Now James hates to admit it, but the little voice in his heart knew that Remus’ wedding and his plan to propose to Lily was nothing as terrifying as the idea of meeting his Hogwarts’ sweetheart after what seems to be forever. Their abrupt separation before graduation has left scars that James knew would never heal. The kind of marks that will always haunt your nights, making you ponder the unanswered what if scenarios.

The fear of meeting her has always been so grand that James never had the heart to ask Remus if he’s invited her to his wedding. They all have been great friends back in school, it would be more of an appalling fact to know that Remus didn’t invite her, so he remained quiet, letting time to provide him his answer.

“She’s going to be there,” James whispered quietly “And you’re going to be okay with it because she’s no one now. She’s a nobody.”

James nods to himself. The feigned determined expression on his face was fooling no one but it was the only thing he could do for himself. He can’t discuss this with Remus, Remus certainly has a lot on his plate already to prepare for the wedding. He can’t talk about this to Peter or Sirius either because he’s always acted as if he’s completely buried the thought of her though he always wondered if any of his best friends were ever convinced of such an act. And surely, James can’t share this with Lily because what would she think about him then?

The loud banging of his hotel door rudely breaks his train of thoughts. He could tell that the man standing behind the door would be none other than Sirius. There’s no one in this entire universe that is more loud and obnoxious than him.

“Prongs!” Sirius greets once the door is opened for him “Ah, you look grand, mate!”

James forced a smile, letting Sirius to get inside his suite.

“So I’ve got news for you. Good news and bad news. Which do you prefer to hear first?” Sirius asks, rubbing his hands together in an apprehensive manner “Knowing you, I’d go with the good news first. So the good news is, you, me, Remus, and Peter are going to go spend the night at the bar close by and live our life as if we never left that dreary dormitory room back in Hogwarts.”

“Tonight?” James asked “I don’t know mate, I’ve been feeling under the weather lately. I’m afraid I have to sit this one out. I might skip Remus’ wedding tomorrow if I don’t.”

“Nonsense! It’s the groom’s request and you’re one of his groom’s men so you have no other choice but to obliged.”

James rolled his eyes, groaning, “Fine. What’s the bad news, then?”

“Uh, right, the bad news.” Sirius says, now placing an arm around the bespectacled boy in an attempt of consolation “She’s going to join us tonight.”

“Yeah, I’ll definitely sit this one out.” James says as he pushes Sirius’ arm and walks away.

“No, no, no, no! It’s going to be fine. You see, me and Peter have crafted this plan to keep the two of you separate. I’ll be your wingman and Peter will watch over her so the two of you won’t meet unless it's absolutely necessary.” Sirius explains, trying to coax James to give in “You can’t seriously think that we’ll allow you to miss the last night before Remus is married.”

“Yes, but it’s her, Pads!” James argues, running his hand through his hair in desperation “Meeting her would essentially end me, quite literally!”

“No, no it won’t! Me and Peter will be there, remember?” Sirius lures “And you’ll be busy with Lily too, won't you? She’ll tether you to the ground.”

James groans once more, “Lily won’t be here until tomorrow morning. She’s stuck with her sister.”

“Oh,” Sirius grimaced. 

James wasn’t sure if such a response was due to the fact that Lily’s sister is a terrible person to be stuck with or that Lily’s absence would cause greater chance of him to plummet back to the darkness. Either way it proved to be a better reason for him to skip this night out.

“Look, I love Remus and I’m sorry that it has to be this way, but I really don’t think I should come.” James says, his hand reaching to the velvet box in his pocket and showing it to Sirius “I can’t afford to make any mistake.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, staring at the box, “You’re planning to propose?”

“Not at Remus’ wedding, no,” James answers “But yeah.”

“To Lily?”

“Well, yeah. Who else?”

Sirius frowns and James wasn’t sure if that was solely caused by his surprise or was there any other underlying reason as to why he wasn’t ecstatic to hear this. James expected him to be as delighted as when Remus announced his engagement. He could clearly remember the expressions plastered on each of his friends’ faces that night. Now such joy seems to be void of Sirius’ face.

“I— We’ll talk more about this later but you need to come with us tonight. You have to!” Sirius says again “I swear on my parents’ name that you won’t talk to her tonight. Like I said, I’ll be your wingman.”

“You have no regards for your parents’ Sirius. That’s not a very convincing swear.”

“Well who else do you want me to swear their name upon? My Death Eater brother?”

“Ex-Death Eater.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, “Fine, I swear on Regulus’ name that you won’t talk to her tonight. Now will you please hurry and change out of your ugly shirt? Wear something more decent, won’t you?”

—-

It was comforting. The layers of blanket wrapping her body, soft pillows around her head and the warmth it brought to her were something she wished she could keep in a bottle. Waking up in hotel beds has always been something she adores. It reminds her of her own bed back in Hogwarts, familiar and comfortable. 

Her eyes were still half opened, trying to adjust to the brightness the sunlight was peeking through the sheer curtain. She must have forgotten to properly close it last night. Hell, she couldn’t even recall how she managed to get back to her hotel room. The last she could remember was meeting Remus and his fiancé before being whisked away by Peter to take shots by the bar.

The rest of the night felt like a complete skip of nothingness. She hoped that whatever happened last night wouldn’t cause Remus any trouble or embarrassment for herself. She does have the tendency to cause problems whenever she’s taken one too many drinks.

Her brows were knitted when a foreign object was felt as she rubbed her eyes. She stares at the solitaire ring now sitting beautifully on her left ring finger. It was gleaming under the limited light of the room. Whose ring was this?

“Good morning,” She heard a man’s voice greet her.

The sound was very pleasant to her ear. Like a warm cosy home you haven’t visited in a while but managed to return to after a while. It fills her heart with contentment, joy, and tranquillity. As if her heart was ready to implode from the satisfactory feeling. But the more her senses awake, the more consciousness she gained, she recognises whose voice this beautiful sound belongs to.

“Potter?!” She screams, pushing him who had his arms around her waist out of the bed “What are you doing in my room?!”

“I— What?!” James woke up from the scream, frantic to find the situation he’s in “What the— What’s going on?! I thought you were Lily!”

“I should be asking you that question! What are you doing in my room?!”

James grabs his glasses that were sitting by the bedside table, assessing the suite with half sleepy eyes, “This is my room! Those are my coat and shoes by the door, see?”

“I— Then what the hell am I doing here?!”

“I don’t know! You’re the one trespassing!”

“I did no such thing! I was at the bar with Peter and then— I just— What?!”

Her chest was heaving in panic. Her eyes crazed, looking around the suite to understand the setting better. She wasn’t supposed to be in this room. She wasn’t supposed to be in James Potter’s room. Hell, she wasn’t even supposed to meet him. She’s sworn to steer clear of his presence and it was the only condition she gave to Remus before agreeing to come to his wedding, that she would be placed as furthest as possible from him. So how is it that she’s finding herself on his bed right now?

“What is that?” James asked, pointing at the ring on her finger “Why do you have my mother’s ring on you?”

“I don’t fucking know, Potter. It found itself sitting there the moment I opened my eyes.” She spat, trying to take the ring off of her but proved to have such an action failing “What the hell?”

“Take it off!”

“I’m trying!” She yells “It won’t come off!”

“I— Shit, why do I have this on me too?” James questions as he notices a matching ring on his finger “Where was this from?”

“You’re asking me? Do I look like I know anything about rings?!” She says irritatedly, still trying to get the ring off of her “I can’t take this off unless we cut my finger.”

“Well, that’s an idea.”

She glares at him, not saying a word.

“This is bad.” James mutters as he begins to pace, feeling the anxiety to sink in “That was supposed to be on Lily’s finger, not yours!”

“Lily? Lily Evans?”

“Which other Lily do you know?”

“You’re planning to propose to Lily?” She asks, looking baffled now “How did you even manage to date her? She’s way beyond your league.”

James blinks, offended by her comment, “Mind you, I am in the same league as her. We’ve been happily together for years now.”

“Wait, you’re planning to propose to her at Remus’ wedding?” She questions “Talk about stealing your best friend’s thunder.”

“I— No, I wasn’t planning to propose to her today, okay! I only have the ring with me as an anchor so can you please take it off and return it before I’m losing my last strands of sanity.”

“It’s not coming off, I told you!”

James groans in despair, running his hand through his hair. He could feel his pillars crumbling down. That demon is finally claiming his soul once more. He has to force himself to walk further from the bed, pacing around the empty space so he could stop himself from staring at her. Even with such effort to create distance between them, James knows that he couldn’t fool himself. The crazy beating of his heart when he saw her have done more damage than he could ever afford to face.

Then suddenly, a loud banging on the door was heard. James turned his eyes to see her, seeing that panic on her face at the demanding sound. Sirius was persistent with his knocking.

“Don’t open it,” She warns “Don’t let anyone in. We can’t talk to anyone until we figure out what happened to us.”

“Nothing happened between us.” James says, not wanting to yield to reality just yet “You were just drunk and you mistakenly thought that my suite was yours.”

“Oh, I was drunk? How about you, do you remember anything then?” She challenges, pointing to the engagement ring on her finger “Have any clue as to why this ring of yours is on my finger?”

“I— Fuck!” James cruses, rubbing the bridge of his nose to calm himself “I have to open the door. Sirius won’t stop knocking unless I do.”

“Sirius’ knocking is the least of our troubles. What we need to do now is to trace down what happened to us last night. I refuse to go out of this door wearing this stupid ring. What am I to say if others ask?!”

“Well, I can’t remember shit from last night so we’ll only be running in circles, Sweetheart.” James retorts “And mind you, it’s not a stupid ring. It’s my mother’s.”

Her expression softens a little. Memories of how sweet and loving Euphemia Potter was came rushing in like a tidal wave. James’ mother has always been so fond of her, treating her as if she was her own daughter. She would always remember how his mother would compliment them two, saying that they remind her of how in love she was with James’ father back in the day. Now such memories only do more harm than good for her sanity.

Taking her silence as staleness in their argument, James walks himself to the door. His steps were wide and angry. Irritated by the persisting banging done by Sirius, his lack of understanding of the trouble he finds himself in, and the crazy beating of his heart from being in her presence.

“What?!” James spat at Sirius as he opened the door, barely so that Sirius won’t be able to peek inside.

“I— Geez mate, woke up on the wrong side of the bed?” Sirius asked with a raised brow “I was just worried you’ll miss the wedding. You disappeared last night, I thought something happened.”

Something did happen, James thought, but found himself shaking his head instead, “No, nothing happened. I was just about to take a shower and get ready. Thanks for checking up on me.”

Sirius nods, unimpressed by his words but takes it in anyway. He opens his mouth before closing it once again. Looking as if he has something to ask but decides to not to. Whatever that question might be, James was glad that it was never uttered. He has plenty on his plate already at the moment.

“Right,” Sirius says instead “I’ll see you at the venue, then.”

James nods, closing the door as Sirius turns his heels away.

He let out a relieved sigh once the clicking sound of the door was heard. James closes his eyes before turning to see her again. She was still on his bed, buried under the many blankets and pillows around her. If this wasn’t reality, James would’ve enjoyed such sight and count this as his family friendly wet dream.

“Who was it?”

“Sirius,” James answered “He wanted to check up on me. Said I disappeared last night. I didn’t tell him anything, don’t worry.”

She nodded, “So what are we to do now?”

“I don’t know.” James says, defeated that he has no proper answer to give her “I— Lily and I were supposed to meet at the venue. She doesn’t know that I was planning to propose. I guess I can just bullshit my way and say that this is just a dress ring and it’s stuck on me for the moment.”

“Alright,” She bobs her head in understanding “Then what about me? What am I to tell people? Cause people will ask.”

“Well, maybe you can just lie and say that you recently got engaged? At least until we can figure out a way to get that ring out of your finger.”

“But I don’t have a partner. If I do and I just recently got engaged, shouldn’t my fiancé be my plus one? People will ask more questions about his wherebeing.”

“Well, do you have any better excuse? Fire away, I’m open for suggestions.”

She rolls her eyes, finding his sarcastic response to be the very least helpful, “Fine, I’ll do that.”

James watches as she begins to collect her purse and jacket that was scattered on the carpeted floor. He tries to bite down the slight satisfaction of hearing that she was single. He knew that it was wrong to feel this way and it has been years since they met, surely she’s dated other people after their separation, but to know that she wasn’t bound with anyone the moment they had their reunion sparked something inside him. Something that he knew was so sinful that he would never be able to atone.

“Can you check if the hallway is clear? I don’t want to meet anyone as I come out of your door.”

James nods, peeking out of the empty hall before turning back to her with a nod.

“Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, don’t even breathe my way at the venue.” She said to him, finger firmly pointing at him in a threatening manner “I will hex you to death right on the spot if you do.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

She gave him a glare one last time before leaving his suite. James could finally let out the breath he unconsciously held once he was left alone. He walks back to his bed, sitting on it and hating the fact that her perfume lingers on its cover. Now he wouldn’t be able to shake the sweet scent off of his mind, even if he was to obliviate himself to it. But then again, what is a wedding without some drama, right?

[stylesharrys]

the box | part three [boxerry]

//

“I don’t mean to be nosy, so tell me if I’m overstepping. But as Mary’s keyworker, I handle all invoices and health care… and I know you make a lot of money from the fights. Why do you keep her here when you could afford something more lavish?”

She hopes it doesn’t come off the wrong way — she already thinks it’s incredible what he’s doing for his family. But she can’t help but wonder. 

“Honestly?” He asks, and Y/N nods. “Because of you. She loves living here and she loves you. Whenever I visit, it’s always Penny this, and Penny that. You’ve got no idea how at peace I feel with her living her, because of how incredible you are with her.” 

Y/N’s not sure when the tears began to well in her eyes but when they begin to fall down her cheek, Harry is quick to wipe them away softly with the pad of his thumb. 

They’re both aware of how intimate his little act was, so he’s quick to sit back in his chair and clear his throat. 

“As for the money, I save most of it for my future children and stuff. I don’t want to do this forever, but now Sam’s gone… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to walk away from it. It’s all I’ve got left of him.” 

Everything he says is loaded to Y/N. Future children, her late brother. She’s not sure if she pegged Harry for the type to want children, but she constantly has to remind herself that she doesn’t know him, and every time they speak she learns something new. 

The mention of Sam makes her heart hurt. And in the past two weeks, she’s begun to adopt the same mindset that Harry already has. Now she’s part of it, she doesn’t think she could let the club go. Much like Harry, it’s one of the only things she has left of Sam, too. 

They sit like that for another hour or so, just talking and learning more about each other. Harry shares stories about Mary, and Y/N listens intently to the mirage of the older woman’s life. 

Y/N is about to ask another question when their little story time is interrupted by two male paramedics knocking on the door of Mary’s room. 

Y/N’s the first to stand, offering a polite smile as she shakes both of their hands. “Hi, I’m Y/N, Mary’s keyworker. This is Harry,” she gestures to him, “Mary’s grandson.” 

The two paramedics introduce themselves as Darren and Olli as they lug their equipment into the room with them. Harry sits back to allow them their space as they wake Mary from her light slumber. 

He watches as Y/N softly explains what’s happening and that she needs to be checked over by the nice paramedics. They’re all thankful that Mary doesn’t kick up a fuss about it, and allows Darren and Olli to gently examine her hips. 

“Been a while since a strapping young bloke has had his hands all over my hips… let alone two of ya.”

Harry closes his eyes in embarrassment as Y/N stifles her laugh. No matter how long she’s been caring for Mary, she never fails to give Y/N the giggles. And it doesn’t help when she mumbles something along the lines of ‘I should fall over more often’, under her breath. 

Olli gently pushes pressure on her left hip. “Is that giving you any discomfort, Mary?” 

She shakes her head. “Oh, absolutely not, petal. You can keep doing that.” 

“Gran!”

READ NOW ON PATREON ONLY :)

[kelogsloops]

putting this in the tumblr ask box bc idk where else to put it 🕺 does anyone even read these still

anyways i just woke up but i had a dream and you were a big part of it- i don’t want to say it was a nightmare or like a bad dream but like basically in the dream you announced that you would be quitting art and like retiring ig? it was for a few reasons but in that moment idk i just realized just how much you have had an influence on my life- you know that saying “you don’t know what you have until you lose it”? yeah…

honestly at first when i woke up i was so ready to call it a nightmare, like “oh my god?? you?? leaving?? forever?? noooo!” but as i’m sitting here awake now i realize eventually it’s probably gonna happen- maybe not in the way it was in my dream with you making a whole like announcement video and wiping your accs, but maybe quieter. i wonder if it’ll be that you stop making art, but i find that hard to imagine. i think it would happen slowly, less and less posts as the years go on. in my head even if you stop posting it, i’d think you’re still creating, making art for simply the sake of such. but then i think about how silly that thought is though, i don’t know you outside of your social media bubble. i don’t know your life and what happens there so to even assume something so quiet is pretentious of me. 

like i said, at first i thought it was a nightmare, i can’t bear the thought of you leaving one day- especially for the reasons you gave in my dream it was like “i gave up, arts getting too much for me, and things are so competitive now no one wants my art anymore…” blah blah blah. it was all my own stress as an artist manifesting onto you i think- but anyways i hope that should the day ever come where you do end up leaving your socials and whatnot, i can only hope that it’s out of your own accord and you do so because you want to, not out of pressure or anything like that. like i’m not saying i want you to quit or anything, but what i’m saying is if it happens i just hope it’s something that you chose on your own. i just don’t think i could ever stand that happening though without letting you know how much of an impact you’ve had on my life. 

i found your art when at a very developmental part of my life, so your work wether consciously or not i think has just become like a part of my brain wether conscious or not haha. whenever i go to draw even if i don’t explicitly go to look to your work for inspiration, it’s still there i can see it. it’s like just unconsciously ingrained at this point. but more than that though the whole idea of like “brb chasing dreams” and whatever and the whole idea that i feel you impart every time you share pieces of your journey as an artist to just keep going, i kind of stole that mantra for myself and started to tell myself that as well. even at my lowests, i’m still trying to follow that dream, even lost and i don’t know what direction i’m going in there’ll always be that dream as an anchor almost.

thank you for all that you’ve shared and thank you for being the biggest inspiration in my life. i know that’s quite dramatic to say, but i mean it in full honesty. whatever the future holds for you, i hope it’s kind. i hope you live a long life chasing all your dreams where at the end of the day, you’re happy. thank you. 

waking up to find a message like this in my inbox has me feeling t e a r y. it's reading stories like these and hearing how my work has impacted people that makes this all feel so surreal sometimes. the fact that people would even care if i stopped making art one day or just disappeared is crazy... i'm very fortunate!

i've resigned myself to the fact that sure, one day (but hopefully never) i won't be able to pursue a professional career as an artist anymore, but if there's one thing that i can promise, it's that there is no reality in where i stop making art!

i don't know if i show it enough, but to each and every one of you who have been part of my journey so far, thank you from the bottom of my heart. it's messages like these that pinch me and remind me how it's all so worth it

forever #brbchasingdreams

[yourhighness6]

What is your favorite Zutara headcanon?

I hope you have an amazing day! ^.^

I'm so sorry this has been sitting in my inbox forever! I haven't had a chance to answer asks and I kind of forgot about it, so I'm going to give an extra long answer to make up for it lol. I have a few that are tied for first and second, so bear with me.

Firstly, I absolutely love the idea of Zuko helping out Katara with the chores after he joined the gaang. It just makes sense that he would try to help her out, and that he would feel guilty and try to do extra work. Of course, it takes Katara awhile to actually appreciate his help, but after TSR they actually manage to have fun together while they're doing dishes and laundry together, and she can't imagine it any other way.

This one is kind of cheesy, but I love the idea of them both being musically inclined, but in different ways. Zuko is obviously great at the tsungi horn, but he's an absolutely awful singer, and Katara can't play an instrument to save her life, but she has the voice of an angel. They like practicing songs with each other to let off steam, and even after the war whenever Katara finds herself in the Fire Nation or Zuko in the water tribe, they still get together to make a bit of music. They're also both wonderful dancers, Zuko from growing up learning dances in the FN court, and Katara because it's a big part of her culture, and she also just thinks it's fun. Zuko never really liked to dance, because it reminded him of being boxed in at court, but Katara shows him some different steps and he actually enjoys himself for once. In an AU where they end up together, their kids grow up combining the dances of both their cultures and creating new trends in both the FN and the SWT.

This one isn't really Zutara-centric, but Toph teases the HELL out of them. She literally goes around making the snarkiest comments and she will not stop until they are both blushing like tomatoes.

In an AU where they get together, they are the second in the gaang to get married, after Suki and Sokka but before Aang and Teo (I said what I said). Their wedding is obviously a huge event, and Sokka and Aang are the groomsmen while Toph and Suki are the bridesmaids, obviously. Katara is super into wedding planning and picking out her dress. Uncle Iroh helps her with the plans and buys fireworks and organizes the guest list and Zuko rebels against the both of them at every turn because he doesn't really want a huge, ostentatious wedding. He eventually realizes that this is way more important to Katara than it is to him, though, so he stops trying to get them to tone things down and only helps her with the planning when asked, to give her all the creative freedom her heart desires. In canon (where they don't get together) I like to think that Zuko would be Katara's 'man of honor' at her wedding with Aang. Partially because of pining and angst, but mostly because they want to be there for each other and see each other happy, even if they aren't going to be the ones spending their lives together.

Zuko would be the first one to realize his feelings for Katara, but he'd be in denial for so long that by the time Katara realizes her feelings back, they're at about the same place when it comes to their relationship. She's the first one to say "I love you" and even though it takes him a little time to say it back, it's only because he's scared to be so vulnerable with someone at first. She gives him time, and his love confession ends up being simultaneously the most awkward and the most romantic thing in the world. Zuko is the one to propose and Katara says yes without question.

They end up having two kids, twin girls named Kya and Ursa after their mothers. Kya, the nonbender, is set to inherit the throne, and Ursa, the waterbender, has a special gift for healing. Zuko only wanted one kid because he was afraid of messing them up, but he ends up being a wonderful father. Katara is a great mother as well, of course, and she loves to teach Ursa waterbending while Zuko helps her incorporate firebending moves into her fighting style. Kya feels a little left out of these family training sessions at first, but Zuko teaches her how to use the dao swords, her Aunt Mai teaches her how to throw knives, and her Aunt Ty Lee teaches her chi blocking, so she's just as deadly as the rest of her family.

Katara's first project after becoming firelady is to help spearhead pollution reform and create industrial regulations that help the FN become more environmentally friendly. She eventually travels back to the village in "the Painted Lady" with her daughters to show them the value of respecting nature.

This one also isn't very zutara-centric, but I don't think Katara and Azula would ever really reconcile. Although she becomes good friends with both Mai and Ty Lee (who are dating, obviously), she can never forgive Azula for some of the most traumatic events of her life. Zuko and Azula do eventually have a healthy relationship after Azula realizes the error of her ways, but she decides to move away from the palace of her own accord. There are too many bad memories there.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my headcanons! These are the only ones I can think of right now but I probably have more somewhere in my brain.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

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Some more supplementary material for the Frat Boy! Au, this time starring blorbo of the hour: Kento Nanami

Because he’s been heavy on my mind. Starting with his basic info!

Nanami grew up very middle class, not as poor as Suguru or Ryomen, but nowhere near as well off as Satoru.

He’s a business major not because he wants to, but because he feels he has too. If he had it his way, he would be a culinary student. But according to his father, there's no money in being a line cook, so accounting it is. 

Still, he hopes to use his degree to open his own restaurant one day. His father would never approve of a line cook for a son, but maybe Nanami could sell him on a business owner for a son. 

He says the main reason he joined the ABO frat was to try and make business connections, he knew that some people would hire one applicant over another just because they were alumni of the same fraternity. In reality though, he’d have more room in the frat and unlimited access to the kitchen. 

His room is full of plants. Plants of all kinds everywhere, including some herbs. It used to kinda annoy Ryomen (his roommate) but, he’s grown to actually kinda appreciate it. It makes the room feel less dead. 

Phenomenal cook who can not bake to save his life. Cooking is an art but baking is a science and somewhere along the way he fucks it up every time. Be it mixing the batter too much or too little, not letting it sit long enough or letting it sit too long- he doesn't know. He can handle box cake mix that’s about it. 

Now if you want a steak cooked to perfection with perfectly roasted veggies and the creamiest mashed potatoes you've ever put in your mouth on the side he’s you’re guy. If you want an authentic lasagna with homemade everything including the noodles and sauce, he can do that for you. Do not ask him to make bread. 

He’s also insanely good at fighting games. Every version of Nanami in my heart is a God when it comes to fighting games, there is not a universe in which Nanami exists where he doesn’t dominate at Tekken, argue with the wall if you don’t agree.

Adding to that, he’s also in love with D&D. He’s a forever DM that spends hours of time planning campaigns, hours he should be spending on his school work but shhhh. If you really want to make him swoon, offer to let him be a player in a campaign. He’d pull out a ring on the spot. 

That being said, I think it’s time to get into some relationship headcanons ;)

HE’S A TSUNDERE! Look at that man, he has such big Tsundere energy.

Out of all his frat brothers, Nanami is probably the one that gets laid the least. Not from a lack of opportunity, nay nay, women (and men) throw themselves at him all the time. He’s just picky and not a fan of being touched by stragers. 

You though? You’re different (of course you are, you’re the main character!) The two of you really started to click after you had to work on a pretty big project together. Little things you did softened his heart for you.

Small things like asking him more about his D&D campaign plans, excitedly showing him pictures of the plants that you kept in your dorm, and offering to help him out in the kitchen. Little moments of quality time and tenderness while you were working on this project together nurtured his small crush into full blown butterflies when you were around.

He finally admitted to himself he was in love with you when you beat him in Street Fighter. He wasn’t used to losing at fighting games. You bragged about using his tips against him (you listened to what he said) and laughed about the weeks you spent training to destroy him (otherwise known as taking a genuine interest in his hobbies.) 

He asked you out on a date that night and you were taken completely off guard! You had no idea the fool even liked you! He was cold on the best of days, spending more time scowling at his notebooks than listening to what you said (or so you thought.) He never contacted you unless it was in regards to your project, and most of the time you spent hanging out outside of it was just because you had become friends with his frat brothers and happened to be at the house. You mean he liked you?! 

Of course you said yes, if for no other reason than to see where the hell this goes. You were 40% sure it was a prank, but hey- a free meal was a free meal. It helped he was hot as hell, what was the harm in one date?

You saw a whole new side of Kento Nanami that night. He was warm and attentive, and fucking hilarious when he wasn’t just keeping all of his jokes to himself. 

It was a simple date. A moonlit picnic in the nearby park, one where he brought his laptop and used his phone hotspot so the two of you could watch movies together. 

That was the night when you found out Kento Nanami considered himself to be a hopeless romantic. 

When he took you back to your dorm, he walked you to the door and actually asked if he could kiss you goodnight. 

And now you’re both smitten! 

Once you’re officially his girlfriend, You’re gonna find out he’s genuinely pretty chill. Happy to give you your space and recognize you’re a person outside of your relationship. That being said, let some asshole start getting a little too comfortable with you at a part and he’s quick to throw hands.

You would think nerdy little Nanami wasn’t that good in a fight, but nay nay, he was forced to play football in highschool and will leave a bastard concussed. 

He says he’s not a cuddler, but every time you sleep in his bed you wake up with him cuddled close to you. 

Nanami loves kisses, and is always planting them on you when you’re in kissing range. Your lips, cheeks, forehead, everything is fair game. 

You’re the only person in the world other than like, his parents that can call him Kento. He’s always gone by his last name, to the point that his first name makes him feel like he’s in trouble. Only authority figures use it when they’re pissed off at him. But it hits him different when it comes from your lips. When you say it, it feels tender and intimate. It’s the closest he gets to liking his name.

He always tries to make time for you and your relationship. Even if that sometimes means that your date nights are just study dates, he always strives to make you feel like a priority. 

He’s a soft guy that falls in love easily. You may not know it yet, but he has full intentions to marry you after graduation. A fact his frat brothers are quick to tease him about, while also making him promise to make them groomsmen. 

[shenrickyz]

the hikari charm (.◜◡◝)

hikari just always seems to have this spell that draws people in, and jeno has become a victim of such hex | timestamp; pre-istj (2023) | wc: 0.6k

hikari is just too alluring.

it feels like every day jeno learns a new little thing about him. he's known hikari for a good, what is it, ten years now? and he still can't believe just how much hikari manages to surprise him— he guesses that the pianist still has many more tricks up his sleeve.

"don't you think it's too late for this?"

"it's never too late for jewelry".

that night, jeno was plagued by sleeplessness, and his feet had immediately taken him to hikari's room (yeah "his feet"— he is not good at coming up with excuses), where he found the older awake, messing with the jewelry charms he kept in a box in his room.

hikari being awake in the middle of the night was pretty regular, though you could never notice it with the way he always looked so lively in the morning, but he was the only person up in the dorm, so jeno decided he'd just stay in his room with him instead of sitting outside.

there was always something so comforting about hikari's room, though a small space he seemed to be able to fit everything into it, including many books, vinyl records, paintings, posters, and somehow, a whole piano too?

it's just so cozy, every single item in the room quite literally screams hikari, and jeno has no idea how to explain those words.

"who taught you how to do this?" jeno asks, listening to hikari him as he finishes up the bracelet he had been creating even before jeno had walked into his room.

"xuwicha" he replies, finally turning around after what seemed like forever. he steps forward, gaze focused on the others arm. "give me your wrist".

jeno doesn't say anything about the surprisingly sudden demand, just chuckles and complies. hikari gives the smallest of smiles, taking jeno's wrist in his hand as he puts on the bracelet for him. jeno is about to tell him that he can totally do it himself, but hikari already closes it around his wrist before he can even open his mouth.

"there you go" hikari nods, happy with his creation. "now you get to wear it forever".

"forever?" jeno questions, snickering as he raises an eyebrow. he drops his arms down to his sides, and he relaxes himself, not knowing why he was tense before whilst hikari was holding his arm.

"i mean— i made it for you" hikari whispers, glancing up at jeno momentarily before glancing back at his desk. "now you have to wear it forever, or else i'll get you".

the playful threat gets another laugh out of jeno, who pretty much gets distracted because of how he's admiring him.

hikari is pretty, so pretty, jeno can't even begin to explain it. he can never understand why hikari is overlooked, or why he ever regards himself as being "not that spectacular", because the word spectacular is the perfect one for him. he always feels himself just slip into a trance whenever he stares at hikari, too focused on his pretty features to even realize that he's zoning out.

hikari (luckily) doesn't register his gaze, too focused on clearing out his desk. "are you hungry?" he suddenly asks, finally looking back at jeno. "i can make you something".

jeno shakes his head, somehow rendered speechless. hikari blinks for a moment, fingers ghosting over the keys of his piano. "no.. i'm fine" he quickly says, hikari just narrows his eyes, but he just shrugs, not picking up on the suspiciousness in jeno's voice.

"are you making these for everyone else?"

"the bracelets.. uh, i don't know, you were the first person on my mind, so i just made you one!"

surprisingly, those words make jeno feel special, he doesn't know why, though. it's not like jeno wouldn't want hikari to do such a nice gesture for the other members, it's more of how he was the first person that hikari decided to make a bracelet for, he feels a small soar of victory in his chest as he thinks about it.

but the feelings don't really register in jeno's mind, he's much too busy admiring hikari.

[polarisbibliotheque]

Dante gets drunk and confesses to his s/o that "everyone I love and who means something to me dies horribly" because he's a Son of Sparda. Next mission he comes back, emotionally drained and just depressed overall. Soon his s/o come over and after pampering with a warm bath, washing his hair, giving him love and the whole nine yards. He asks quietly, why? To which his s/o comments that whoever's gonna try to kill them, has gotta bring an army and tons of reinforcements. (1/2)

So, this one has been sitting on my asks for SO LONG, and now I finally got the time and inspiration to make it happen. This idea is so lovely to me, because I do believe some interesting things would happen with drunk Dante and Vergil - angsty ones and funny ones.

Therefore, this one will be the angsty. But do wait for the funny one, 'cause dear, now you inspired me to write drunk Dante and Vergil antics ;)

Thanks a lot for the ask and the ideas!! I hope you like how it turned out ^^

Dante & Vergil getting angsty drunk and their s/o comforting them

Pairings: Dante x Reader; Vergil x Reader

Summary: Drinking could bring either two things to the Spardas: fun or sudden visions that could open the Pandora's box inside their hearts. When that happened, you were the only one able to soothe the fear of losing their loved ones... Again.

WARNING: There's drinking as an unhealthy coping mechanism, the mention of the reader knowing someone who would turn to drinking and become completely different (not detailed) and in both stories, they have visions of their s/o, the reader, lifeless. It's stated exactly like that, but if this is something that bothers you or if you're sensitive to imagining that, I advise not reading this one. Next one will be more chill and upbeat!

Author's notes: I gotta say, I loved writing both of them. I picture their s/o a will powerhouse just like them, so there's a lot of that. Also, I listened to two songs in repeat while writing, I recommend listening to them! Never Fade Away (shdsky remix), by shdsky; and Burn, by The Cure.

They encapsule the heartwrenching feeling they have and I blame the angst and intensity from Vergil's on The Cure

Dante

Saying the Sparda family had no healthy way of expressing their feelings was a huge understatement.

Dante would constantly complain about Vergil – after all, most of their problems came from Vergil being extremely powerful and broken by the trauma of their past. If only he had gone to therapy, a lot would have been avoided – at least, that what Dante would say.

But it seemed like your red devil failed to see he himself needed therapy. You knew he was on a long path of healing – and a lot more healed than Vergil, who had just admitted he needed help and couldn’t be self-sufficient forever – but that didn’t mean Dante had already found a healthy way to cope with his inner demons.

Figuratively and literally.

When things got too bad, Dante drank to forget. But he also enjoyed drinking with you to have fun – he was all about keeping his mind occupied so he wouldn’t let the quietness settle in and let the demons come out from the dark, creeping towards him with their silent fingers and taking a hold of his heart.

That night, it had started for fun. He didn’t keep too much alcohol in the shop, but he always had an emergency bottle of whisky laying in his desk’s drawers.

“Well, well, have I ever told you how beautiful you are…?” His cheeks were flushed, and flirty Dante mode was on. He sat by your side on the couch, keeping one of his arms around your shoulders and his nose a little bit too close to your face.

You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling at that goof.

“A thousand times, Casanova.” You answered, trying to get a little distance in to look into his beautiful sky-blue eyes. Dante observed you with adoration and a sincere smile on his lips, as if every word you said sounded like the most crystalline and new music note he had ever heard. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are here?” As you asked, you touched his chest, above his heart. Dante’s adoration just seemed to grow, as if you had never touched him in your whole lives. “I love the entirety of you, but your soul… Your soul is brilliant, red devil.”

“Sheesh, babe, if ya keep talkin’ like that, I’ll get all flustered!” Despite his words, Dante leaned on your head, touching your forehead with his. He always got giggly and didn’t quite understand personal space when drunk.

Not that you cared – Vergil, in the other hand, always threatened to stab his inconvenient brother. Used to being around him, it wasn’t a nuisance to you.

“I don’t think you can ever get flustered, big guy!” You laughed back, rubbing your nose on his – that made Dante’s heart only beat faster. “But I mean it. Your soul is the kindest I’ve ever met. I love you endlessly, Dante.”

Your words met his ears in a whisper, still smiling as he kept his forehead leaned on yours. Dante’s heart, though, trembled with a thousand different feelings that, if he was sober, he’d know how to control.

As you left for a quick break to the bathroom, he poured himself another shot of whisky – seeing how the bottle was getting to an end. Dante lost count of how many days he drank bottles and bottles of whisky on his own, trying to forget his past, to let go of all the things that happened to him.

He didn’t see that kindness, that brilliant soul you saw in him.

You talked of him as if he was an angel, but Dante knew he was far from that – a literal half demon, bursting in anger with spiked wings and red fiery horns when he couldn’t restrain that animal inside him any longer. He had learnt to control it – and Dante controlled his demon with all his might, hating that part of himself.

Nevertheless, you saw something else. You saw the human in him, but you also loved the demon. And he couldn’t understand how – he knew it was the same way his mother fell for his father, but… Still. Dante couldn’t see all the beauty you saw.

His whole existence was cursed – a foul curse that ran in his veins, that came from his blood. The blood of Sparda. That was the reason for so much death, so much suffering. His father was a savior to humankind, the one who protected the world from demons and Mundus, but he had paid with cursing his name for eternity – bringing only pain and death to those who associated with it.

Eva died. Nell died. People who had relationships with him in whatever way died. He lost count of how many times he saw Vergil die – or even killed him with his own hands. Dante lost everything, over and over and over again. It was as if that night his house caught on fire and all he knew crumbled in flames and blood repeated itself every time Dante found his heart allowing himself to feel safe and welcomed – to feel a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be cursed until he died.

But then, it would all drown in blood and dust.

As his lips got wet with the bitter taste of whisky, Dante saw something right in front of his eyes – too real, too dangerous.

The Devil May Cry in flames. Him sitting on the floor, blood all over his hands. Corpses of the demons you had slain together lying at his feet. You, laying between his legs, your head cradled on his chest, lifeless.

Once again, tears falling from his eyes as all he had built up until that moment burnt down until there was nothing left.

“Hey, Dante…? Dear, are you crying…?” Your voice snapped him out of it, making Dante shoot his glossy eyes back at you – barely noticing a tear running down his face.

It was the first time you saw him so terrified.

“What happened?” You immediately ran to him, sitting by his side on the couch and taking Dante’s calloused hands in yours. Whenever your mind got hazy with alcohol, you prioritized whatever your heart told you should be put first – and that usually was Dante. Just like him, the alcohol made it easier for your feelings to overflow.

“Hmmm nothin’, I… I just… Damn.” Dante sighed, shaking his head slightly and looking down. He was trying to get those images out of his mind – but the feeling of having you in his arms while both of you were engulfed in flames was too real for him to let go that easy. His hazy thoughts wouldn’t let it go – and his heart… Oh, his heart would scream in pain every time he saw a glimpse of losing you like that. Just like he lost everyone else. “I’m not… Shit…”

“Memories again?” You took one of your hands to lightly brush his face, finding his teary eyes under his white hair. You brushed his fringe away from the sky-blue sea that stared back at you, overflowing even more as your silky touch found the rough texture of his cheek – caressing him so carefully, as if Dante was but a precious, fragile crystal.

If you kept like that, you’d break his heart. Dante wasn’t sure whatever lied in his chest was strong enough to take all that gentleness – it could take violence, but it wasn’t used to such a loving touch.

“Yeah… Old and new, babe…” He allowed himself to rest his head on your hand, as you cradled him with nothing but care. He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t think about losing you. All those years, Dante had nothing and now… You were everything. This time, if he lost anyone he loved again, he wouldn’t survive. Dante was sure – it would be impossible for his heart to recover from you.

“New…? From what…?” Your brows furrowed as you kept on caressing his face. It wasn’t the first time you saw Dante like that: anxiety attacks and flashbacks were very common on your relationship and, by now, you knew how to deal with them whenever Dante fell into the abyss. You were the only hand holding him tightly and making sure to pull him back up – the only one to stay there and go through hell alongside him. “Was it that hunt we had the other day…?”

“No, no… I…” Dante sighed again, unable to explain. It was so easy for him to let other feelings out his chest: happiness, anger, complacency… But those? He had no words for it. No matter how much he tried, Dante couldn’t bring himself to let out that horrible scene for you… No matter how much alcohol. “I got… Kinda of a flashback… Of somethin’ that didn’t happen.”

“Hmmm… Was it of something that has happened, but with different people?” You tried, noticing how his sky-blue eyes, adorned with the redness of the tears, shot up at you.

It wasn’t the first time you noticed Dante worried about something happening to you. He had vivid nightmares sometimes and once, before waking him up, Dante was tossing and turning, screaming your name and holding his pillow as tightly as he could. He whispered something along the lines of don’t leave me, and you had an idea of what was going on. As you woke him up, Dante held you close in real life, as if that was going to keep you safe and sound.

“I… Damn, y/n…” Once again, he looked down, sighing heavily and shaking his head. Tears fell on your hands, but you didn’t let go of his. Dante had to understand you would be there, through hell and high water. “Everyone I love, everyone who means something to me, die horribly. It has been like that ever since I was a kid, remember?”

He pointed at the portrait of Eva he kept on his desk. It was a rhetorical question, you knew, but you wanted to say you would never forget. It was part of who Dante was, and, inevitably, it was part of your life too. The day you decided to stay with him, was the day your paths intertwined – and now, they couldn’t be separated, by any power of Heaven or Hell.

You wished he understood that.

“I’m not this knight in shiny armor you say I am, babe.” Dante’s eyes were tortured, and he had a melancholic smile that didn’t fit on his lips. “I’m no angel. I’m a demon who will burn everything on my path, spittin’ anger and blood. I’m no good for anyone… And hell, I don’t wanna lose you. Not you.”

“You won’t, Dante. I’m here. No matter what you saw, I’m here.” You took him into your arms as his tears found no resistance anymore. Crying on your shoulders, Dante held you strongly against him – as if that could keep any harm away from both of you. “And you gotta understand, you’re so much better than you give yourself credit for, dear. There’s no one else I could love in this world the way I love you.”

That would be a long night.

*

With his hair soaked in blood, the red veins flowed down Dante’s face like tears.

It hadn’t been a simple job, but it wasn’t a difficult one either. Dante had worse – but he also had better. He had been better. It seemed like the world had settled on his shoulders and it made his whole body heavier.

Good thing he didn’t have to carry Rebellion on his back anymore – or the walk back to the shop would have been a lot worse than it was.

His feet were practically dragging on the floor – not so much from his body being tired; the problem was his soul. Whenever those demons clutched his heart and mind, there wasn’t much Dante could do apart from going through it. Just like he did in Hell.

He couldn’t get that vision out of his head. The way you had felt in his arms as he cried with the fire engulfing both of you. Dante would have let himself be consumed by the flames – he wouldn’t fight anymore. Without you, he wouldn’t have the strength. Not this time.

Dante had always pushed through in his life – but now… Nero was around. He could protect humans in a much better way than he did. Lady and Trish could live quite well without him – Dante would argue even better than with him around. And Vergil… He had a lot to sort in his own heart. Dante believed without him, Vergil would turn to his demonic nature for good and never be seen again but…

He was tired.

Dante was tired of fighting. He had fought his whole life, tragedy after tragedy. It never seemed to get better, and he had to admit… He could only take so much. After so many years of holding his loved ones dead in his arms, Dante was getting to his limit.

If something happened to you, it would be the last straw. The last of his heart strings, breaking apart alongside with the string of your life.

Opening the door to the Devil May Cry, Dante managed to smile when he saw you sitting on his big chair, feet on the desk, magazine in your hands – just like him. He never thought his heart would grow so warm with something so trivial, but, like Eric Draven himself would say, nothing is trivial.

Losing y/n is just a matter of time.

That dreadful voice in the back of his head made sure to tell him that as you raised your eyes to Dante and smiled with a “hello babe”. Dante always lost everyone he loved. It was just a matter of time.

“Damn, you look like hell.”

“Yeah, those demons weren’t playin’ ‘round today.” Dante sighed back, lowering his head while kicking his boots off, in order to leave them by the door. They were covered in blood and dirt and that was rather annoying to clean – so you both created this rule of leaving shoes by the door.

“You need a shower.” As you left the magazine on the desk, you followed Dante with your smart eyes. He didn’t answer with his usual carefree voice – it was more of a strained tone. The tone of someone spiritually tired.

“Yeah, I know, babe…”

That was certainly out of character.

Without a word, you got up from your place and took Dante’s hand in yours. He stared at you, cluelessly for a while, before walking up the stairs alongside your steps.

He needed your help – and you’d be there for him.

*

“Babe… Don’t you think you spoiled me enough for today…?”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Dante remained shirtless, his wet hair occasionally dripping on his pants while you kneeled behind him and massaged the tense muscles of his back. His neck felt like a piece of wood, and you noticed how he groaned every time you ran your hands under his shoulder blades.

It felt like Dante didn’t know what relaxing meant for years.

“Hmmm. It’s never enough when it comes to you, Dante.” You had a calm smile on your lips, maintaining a soft tone to get him to relax. As your hands found another sore spot close to his neck, Dante groaned once more, lowering his head.

He couldn’t understand you. Dante would always believe wholeheartedly you could choose whatever wonderful life you wanted to have, but instead, you decided to doom yourself with him. Stuck in the Devil May Cry, until, inevitably, fire and destruction came to take you away.

You knew that. You knew how dangerous it was, how cursed he was. And, instead of running like any other sane human being, you decided to stay.

Not only stay, but shower his human and his devil with love. Dante would always be amazed by that.

“Why…?” Dante’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper. He wanted to hear from you, but he was also a little scared to know the answer. What if you stayed for reasons other than him?

You stared at his wet white hair for a while, still running your warm hands on his muscly back. Dante seemed to be the most confident man in the whole world, but he wasn’t afraid to show you how insecure he actually was. How scared. Dante had many demons in his head, and it took a while for you to build enough trust until he started to be so open about his darkest feelings.

And you knew what was going on inside his head. How he didn’t let go of the vision he had that day while you were drinking.

“Because my soul chose yours, Dante. It’s that simple.” You shrugged, still massaging his sore, marble back. “I’m not afraid of whatever curse you think is attached to your blood. I’m not afraid of dying from being with you. Whatever comes to threaten me better bring an army and tons of reinforcements, ‘cause I’m not going down that easy. You taught me to always keep fighting, and that’s what I’m gonna do.” With those words, you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and resting your head close to his, feeling how your body seemed so small glued to his towering shape. Dante immediately held your hands close to his heart, tilting his head in your direction. “Those demons better know I’m human. I won’t stand down and I’m going to do everything in my power to live a great life by your side, babe. I am not going to die horribly in the hands of whatever creature who wants to hurt you, and if they attack me, I’m going to bring them all down. I chose to be with you and there’s no power in any world that can take me away from you now. That’s a promise, Dante.”

You couldn’t see how much his lips were smiling or how his eyes were tearing, but you could feel it by the way Dante held your hands as if they were the last lifeline connecting him to the human world. You nuzzled his neck, doing your best to cuddle his body against yours.

“I love you, y/n.” His voice was like a secret, even though the whole world knew that from his heart. “You know that, right?”

“Of course I do.” You hugged him tighter, making him chuckle, even if just a little. “I love you too, Dante. That’s a promise too.”

As he intertwined his fingers with yours, Dante smiled. You weren’t one to break your promises.

Vergil

“Thanks for the ride, Lady. I owe you one.”

Stepping out of the bike, you gave Lady her spare helmet back as she winked in return.

“No worries, y/n! I might just transfer your debt to Dante!” Lady shrugged in a playful manner, making you laugh as you opened the door.

“It’s not like he has enough debts already, huh?” You shot back, provoking a mischievous giggle on her in return.

“It’s not like I don’t have fun with it!” Her answer was in a sing-song tune, as she pointed back at you before finally leaving. “Take care of that, though. You got hurt pretty badly this time, I’m gonna be worried.”

“You don’t need to be. I already got the world’s most protective and worried man right here with me.” It was your turn to wink back at her. “Vergil isn’t going to leave me alone while I’m not 100% recovered.”

“Well, he had to have at least one quality.” She muttered back, adjusting her helmet. “Don’t forget to call me!”

“I won’t! Thanks again, Lady!” You waved as the red motorcycle made its way through the darkness of the night.

While closing the door, you couldn’t help but to smile. Lady was a good friend, and you would always be grateful for the way she cared about the very few people she loved. She wasn’t the mellow type, but, in her own walking arsenal sort of way, you would still consider her sweet.

Your thoughts came to a halt, though, when you found Vergil sitting by his desk with an empty bottle of whisky on it. He was slouching over the table – something he usually didn’t do – with one of his hands entangled on his hair, while the other held an almost empty glass. His eyes were closed, but the way his eyebrows furrowed told you how much his thoughts were troubling him.

“Vergil, love. Is everything alright?”

You question was immediate albeit careful. You knew whenever Vergil’s thoughts weren’t too controlled, he was prone to flashbacks and instinctive self-protection. Startling him could be a death sentence – although, you were more scared of his memories of Hell than being accidentally hurt by his hands.

Vergil slowly opened his silver eyes, resting them on your form for a couple of seconds. You waited until he let out a long sigh, closing his eyes once more.

“I can’t sleep.”

Oh.

It was one of those days.

“For how long?” You left your boots by the door, calmly approaching him. You weren’t careful in your steps – you didn’t need too – but you didn’t want to make sudden movements. He needed peace, not chaos thriving around him.

His whole life had already been chaotic. Vergil needed to learn how to live in a healthy environment.

“Three days.”

You got seriously injured during your job with Lady exactly three days ago. You and Vergil were already used to each other being badly hurt during a hunt, but that didn’t stop you both from worrying about the other.

Sometimes, though, a situation like that could trigger some things Vergil usually buried deep inside his chest and didn’t allow them to come out.

“You need to rest, my love.” You laid your hands on his shoulders, feeling them tense under your fingers for a few seconds before relaxing under your touch. You placed a kiss atop his white hair. “Is that why you’re drinking?”

Vergil didn’t answer, just groaned as a confirmation. You took the glass from his fingers, taking a sip of the bitter liquor, feeling the alcohol burn down your throat.

“What’s the matter, Verge? Why can’t you sleep?”

Vergil just dismissed your question with silence.

He wasn’t used to sharing his worries – he had always seen that as a weakness. Vergil had learnt to be self-sufficient, going by his life on his own and burying whatever insecurities and fears he had inside his chest – smothering them in the hopes of asphyxiating those feelings and never hearing of them again.

But that was just a temporary solution, one he did to survive. He had been a survivor his whole life, watching everything around him burn and die. Vergil cut ties and bridges to people in order to shield his heart from bleeding over and over again, from hurting him so much. He could take only so much and, if he kept being hurt and having his feelings dilacerated in front of him again and again, there would be a day he wouldn’t survive.

This time, your injury provoked a nightmare. While on your job, you got hurt by an Angelo, a creature so similar to what he once was when Mundus made him just a pawn on an endless chessboard.

In his dreams, Vergil saw himself as Nelo Angelo once again. His eyes glowing in red, hands holding a flaming blue sword, towering frame inside his hellish armor. You called him, you screamed his name – he heard you, but his body wouldn’t answer to his commands. The house around you was burning down in flames, demons terrorizing whoever tried to approach you.

With each heavy step of his iron boots, you begged and pleaded for him to listen. You said all the beautiful things your heart had for him, proffered your favorite poems for his ears, but Vergil’s mind was being held hostage in a body that wouldn’t answer.

It was only when your lifeless body was laying on his arms that Vergil snapped out of it.

By his sword. By his hands. He was covered in blood, your blood. Vergil tried to bring you back, but you were long gone. He kneeled on the floor, cradling your body and crying his heart out, screaming desperately for that pain in his chest to let him breathe – just like the day his mother perished in his flaming childhood home, years prior. But this time…

It was his fault.

You were doomed to die, whether by his unconscious hands or hands of demons, since the day your lips touched his. The day you and him decided to allow your hearts to intertwine your paths, was the day you received a death sentence.

No one who came in touch with the blood of Sparda survived. Vergil was aware of that.

With that image haunting his mind every time he closed his eyes, Vergil decided not to sleep. It wasn’t much of a choice, but a defeat: he couldn’t bring himself to dream of something else. He couldn’t convince himself you were safe, and nothing would happen to you – he couldn’t stop desperately cradling your body close to his heart as his eyes closed.

He couldn’t sleep.

“You do know drinking won’t make the nightmares go away. They will be back eventually.”

Vergil groaned again, sliding the glass away from him on the desk. It was a rare sight, but he looked defeated. You’d say you were the only one in all the worlds allowed to see him like that.

“I had someone who would compensate with drinking. Whenever he did, he’d turn worse than all devils I met.” You decided to leave the comment around, pulling a chair to sit close to Vergil. He watched you with attentive eyes, clearly processing in his head what you had just said.

“I hardly believe a human can be worse than me.” His answer was preceded by a defeated sigh while you watched him intently. Vergil referred to his demonic blood – or he wouldn’t have deliberately said the word ‘human’.

“I beg to differ.” Your reply was almost a whisper, leaning on the table just like him, but taking your time to adjust Vergil’s messy hair back to the state he always liked when he was sober. “You are not a mindless aggressive creature when in demon form, even if you’d like me to believe otherwise.”

“But I have been a mindless hellish creature once.”

There. You finally got to the main issue in Vergil’s thoughts – you could see it in the way he took his eyes away from yours, fixating back on the table. He never really told you the things he went through as Nelo Angelo, and you never forced him to tell you. Vergil would say what he was comfortable saying – and he would keep to himself the things he was not yet ready to tell.

But of all the things that crossed his complicated mind, you knew your safety caused the most worry to Vergil – your safety from him.

It wasn’t a secret he believed you both were a love story fated to destruction – just like it happened to his parents.

“Once.” You threaded your fingers carefully through his hair, as not to startle him. You always had to ease him into physical contact – and Vergil would always be starved for it, whenever he finally welcomed your touch. “And even so, you are so strong, you broke out of its dominion over you on your own. Dragging your crumbling body to the only thing that could be your salvation.”

“Dante killed Nelo Angelo. I did not do it on my own.” Vergil’s mutter was bitter as the alcohol on the table, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the way you fondled his hair.

“It was Vergil who broke out of Hell and saved himself, even if in the most extreme way he found to do so.” Your hands were gentle, but your voice was now a bit harsher – mirroring the strength of the Dark Slayer. “He was the one to know what he was doing was probably a road with no way home, but it was the only way to keep himself alive. He kept walking even if his body was tearing itself apart, he grasped the very last sliver of hope he had. Not looking for forgiveness, not looking for absolution, but looking for survival. Not Nelo Angelo, nor Dante or Nero, not even Sparda. Vergil.”

His silvery eyes stared back at you in confusion and glistening with sudden tears as you told him what you thought about all the things he did. You didn’t apologize his many mistakes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to judge – what would you have done if you were in his shoes? Could you make better decisions, could you do the right thing after so many years of suffering, trauma, and torture, after being stuck in survival mode for the most part of your life? The average person would have never done the things he did, but Vergil was never average.

“You did many wrong things in your life, Vergil. But you survived. Your willpower isn’t to be toyed with and the amount of admiration I have for you is endless, love. You have to know that.” With that, you used your thumb to wipe a tear that decided to run over his sharp cheek. Vergil remained still, not really knowing what to do with all that – he was used to be called names, to be berated, humiliated, and even hated. He didn’t know how to react with being admired like you did. He didn’t know what to do. “I don’t think someone with that kind of willpower would accept another they see as weaker – and love, my will is as strong as yours. I have fought, and I have survived as well. All the legions of Hell would have to march against me to take me away from your arms. And I won’t say this is a promise, because those can be broken or changed like the phases of the moon – it is a fact.”

“Love…” Vergil whispered, finally taking your hand in his and running your palm through his face, following the pattern of your fingers with the tip of his nose, until finally placing longing kisses on your fingertips. His silvery eyes opened once again, focusing on you; his lips barely away from your skin. “These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die like fire and powder. The sweetest honey is loathsome in his own deliciousness.”*

Not knowing how to express his thoughts and feelings – all those he had been trying to kill, asphyxiated in his chest for so long – Vergil recurred to the best way he knew how: poetry. As always, he knew you would understand what he meant… And there was only one way to answer.

“The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss a dateless bargain to engrossing death.* I do not fear anyone who might come near me. They should fear me, love, for I will fight as bravely as you have – and there is no power enough to take me from you.” With those words, you pulled Vergil closer to you, looking deeply into his eyes – he would always be mesmerized how you wouldn’t be intimidated by them. Instead, you always welcomed Vergil’s sharp gaze, holding it with your own. “Thus, with a kiss, I die.”

You didn’t give him time to think – suddenly, your lips were on his, sealing your fate over and over again, every time you repeated that kind of affection with Vergil. Cradling your face gently with his hands, he soon retributed the kiss, trying to make you understand how much he admired your human strength and will – something he couldn’t put in words, but could try to express with actions, at least.

Vergil lived his whole life being feared in order to protect himself – whether by his name or reputation. Having you stand by his side not fearing neither, made him believe that maybe – just maybe – your love story wouldn’t go down in blood and flames like he was used to.

Maybe Vergil could finally know some peace… After all, you were strong enough for love.**

*Romeo and Juliet, by Shakespeare

**Ordinary Love, by U2

[for-your-comfort]

Hi! I hope you're still taking requests, but can I request a Knuckle Bine x hunter!Reader fic?

Reader is also one of Morel's apprentices and she participates in the fight against the Chimera Ants at the palace. But she's also secretly in love with Knuckle (he's oblivious) and she decides to confess to him in the spur of the moment mid palace infiltration. They just have this little "we might be dead by tomorrow so fuck this" moment, and confess to eachother and kiss desperately before getting back to fighting the Royal Guards. I live for life or death romantic situations and angsty/fluffy moments 😭

I love your writing so I hope I'm not bothering you! Kisses :)

Now or Never

Knuckle x Reader

a/n: i’m sorry this isn’t really what you asked for, i changed it a little to adapt to my current knowledge of HXH since i don’t want to do the chimera ant arc any injustice by putting an unfitting scene in.

summary: you’ve been sent on a dangerous quest with Knuckle and Shoot, and find yourself doubting whether you will even make it out alive. what better moment to confess your feelings?

warnings: injuries + blood loss (no graphic descriptions), bit of angst (but also comfort)

word count: 1603

A moment you feel most vulnerable in… Like your entire world is crashing down, and you’re so helpless, because there is absolutely nothing you can do.

What do you do at this moment? When you’re aware of how fast your thoughts are racing, as if competing with your pounding heartbeat in your ears. And yet still none of those thoughts are helpful, they’re nothing but mere, fleeting ideas passing through. Nothing you need, nothing to save you, nor the person next to you.

Your hiding spot is behind a few boxes, and so far they’ve been a good place to not be found. You listen carefully for anything suspicious, yet all you can hear is your own heartbeat, the irregular breaths of your friend, and the shuffling steps that must belong to the beast. You’re lucky to have limited it’s hearing and smelling senses during the earlier fight, or else you would surely already have been found. And given the circumstances, there’s no guarantee you’d make it.

You put a hand on the ground to steady yourself, and wince in pain when your palm touches the dirty ground. There’s a cut across your hand, that you hadn’t noticed up until now. You will have to clean the wound later and make sure it isn’t infected, if you make it out of this situation alive, that is.

“What is it?”

A hushed voice, barely even a whisper, is heard from beside you. You clutch your hand into a fist as your eyes meet Knuckle’s and guilt washes over you. Isn’t it so selfish to think of your own injury, when the person you cherish most is in much worse shape?

Your eyes linger on Knuckle’s once-white jacket that is all soaked up with blood, and just imagining where it’s coming from makes you tear up once again. He must be in so much pain.

Yet, nobody could have predicted this. Not Morel, when he sent Shoot, Knuckle and you out on a casual bounty hunt for a monster that has turned out to be a bite much bigger than the three of you can chew.

Not Shoot, who had agreed to it without a second thought after seeing the nods of Knuckle and you, who is now nowhere to be seen, ever since you lost sight of him somewhen during the fight before.

And certainly not Knuckle, who has overexerted himself, and gotten this beat up. His usual so energetic self is now slumped against a wooden box, sitting on the floor to your left. The sight breaks your heart over and over again.

“Hm?”

He asks again, and you can tell he’s getting weaker. How much blood has he lost? How much more can he hold on?

You can no longer hold back the tears now silently trickling down your cheeks. You can’t even remember the last time you felt like this, so at the mercy of fate’s cruelty as you couldn’t do anything but sit and wait for the inevitable end, since the two of you can’t possibly hide forever.

You get lost in the features of Knuckle, the deep lines on his face and his furrowed eyebrows. His usually so bold mouth, with lips that have their corners turned downwards now.

His big hands have always seemed so strong and secure, and even at this moment you long for nothing more than to feel them around you, and wake up to find all of this to be just a horrible nightmare. But his hands are tightly clutching the side of his stomach, and you know he’s trying to stop, or at least slow, the bleeding.

A tiny part of you hopes Shoot escaped and is seeking help in the nearest city, however you know very well that it’s hard to access, and even at your usual pace, at least an hour away. By now, that hope for help has pretty much died out.

You make another feeble attempt to use your nen ability, but the presence of the beast is still blocking it out.

You tightly clutch one hand within the other and press your eyes shut, before you feel a rough hand gently wipe your tears.

“Why are you crying?”

You shake your head as you look at Knuckle, and even more tears pour down your face and cheeks, some getting caught in Knuckle's calloused fingers, others spilling down to your clenched hands. But you will not speak. You will buy Knuckle, and yourself, as much time as possible. You will not make one single sound, that could betray your location to the beast. At least, that’s your plan.

As if having read your thoughts, Knuckle goes silent for a moment. He musters you with that look again, that one he gives you whenever you do something he disapproves of, or doesn’t understand.

“Once all this is over and we’re back home tomorrow, I’ll make Shoot and you those dumplings again. I know you mock and criticise my cooking, but it will be the best dumplings of your life-“

You interrupt him with a push against his arm, and he lets it drop to the ground with no resistance. He expected this.

“How can you say that!?” You hiss at him, “Don’t you understand? We might be dead by tomorrow!”

The salty tears rush down your cheeks even quicker as you angrily glare at Knuckle, still trying your hardest to be as quiet as possible.

A soft sigh escapes Knuckle as he reaches an arm out towards you, and gently pulls you into his mostly uninjured side. You simply let it happen, and close your eyes upon impact with his shoulder as you carefully snake an arm around his waist, the other wrapping around his other shoulder.

You can hear him taking a breath to say something, but nothing more than a quiet sob rips through the silence. You instantly pull away to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“You don’t deserve this. Any of this. I failed you.”

His voice is so quiet.

You shake your head and hug him tightly once again, this time with his face buried in your shoulder. You gently brush through his hair with your fingers to soothe him, as you lean in to whisper in his ear.

“You could never fail me. You did all you could, we both did. Then this is just how it has to happen.”

He lets out another sob as he clings onto you, his tears slowly soaking through your shirt.

You hold him tightly, silently crying into his hair. This is honestly the last moment you’d expect to be in when you would get to hold him like this for the first time, but given the circumstances, now there might not be any other moment for this in the future…

“I have feelings for you,” you start, “I have had them for a while now. I guess this might be the last time I get to tell you.”

At once, his eyes are on you, wide and startled, but not in a negative way. You’re happy to see some of his usual energy to be back, even if only for the moment, and that twinkle in his eyes you love so dearly has returned.

You can’t help but reach out to brush your hand through his hair again, your fingers tangling in his curls and getting stuck in the pompadour. Instantly, it seems like Knuckle is melting at your touch like soft butter in the sun. A warm feeling spreads inside your chest at this reaction, as if you swallowed the sun yourself.

“I had no idea… Why didn’t you say anything sooner? No, wait- aaaaaah! I should have said something!”

You cover his mouth with your hand, looking left and right, listening hard, in fears that his whisper-shouts gave away your location. You’re not out of danger, how could you be so reckless? But there’s not a single thing you hear, and you slowly remove your hand.

As you do, even Knuckle seems to sigh out in relief before you feel a calloused hand on your cheek, and Knuckle’s warm breath on your chin before your lips meet.

You sit there, frozen in shock, yet only for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, your hands desperately grasping at his clothes for some stability, even when you know you must be the strong one in a situation where he is injured.

You two don’t let go of each other, neither of you daring to break the kiss. This wonderful, soft kiss.

His lips are chapped and dry, and you imagine yours aren’t any better. But still, you couldn’t imagine your first kiss to be any more perfect. For while you’re here, there’s no danger. There’s no beast out there to get you, no wound in your palm to burn in pain as you clench fistfuls of Knuckle’s shirt, and no pools of blood seeping through the same once-white shirt.

Right now, this might not even be the last kiss.

“There you are. I could hear you whispering.”

Both Knuckle and you snap your heads towards the source of the voice. And you see Shoot, looking at you with a warm smile.

You first worry that the beast might hear you, but knowing Shoot, he would never be so careless. The beast must already be disposed of. You two are safe. Knuckle will be okay, and you will make sure of that. You look at him, and the look on his face tells you that he has drawn the same conclusions as you.

“Let’s go home.”

[gloryride]

22 from the soft prompts for Virgile and Panam 🥰

AAAAAAH i'm so happy you asked this prompt with them because i have this idea in mind since forever but i never put words on it, so thanks ♥♥

[soft otp prompts]

22- Write about a member of your ship giving the other a special gift.

Camp Freedom is an old abandoned corpo resort from the 2040s along Lake Tahoe, taken over by the various Nomads clans passing through, becoming a popular recreational spot for all Nomads families, now run by statics from the Jodes. It was in this place, a little out of the way of deckchairs and potential visitors, that Virgile and Panam sat to watch the sunset. He'd told her stories of his childhood, and she'd wanted to see what it was like. Sitting on a bench, Panam's head on his shoulder, Virgile grinned, happy at this moment, so perfect. Plunging his hand into the inside of his jacket, he pulled out a small wooden box, weathered, polished a bit by the sand, with no embellishment other than an engraving in the shape of a vague S. Still curious, Panam straightened up, left the scoop of her boyfriend's neck to observe the container and already reached out to touch it, to take it. "Is this for me?" She smiles, amused, but her voice betrays a form of surprise.

Virgile doesn't answer right away. His azure eyes are riveted on the box for a moment, immersed in his memories, before he jumps up and puts the box between Panam's and his own. "It's a gift I've wanted to give you for some time, a present dear to me. Open it."

Inside, on a bed of faded blue synthetic silk, lay a necklace—a simple gold chain with a small heart as a pendant. Panam ran her finger over the heart with delicacy while Virgile watches her tenderly and then strokes her hand.

"This belonged to my mother. My father gave it to her after I was born because it was a miracle we survived because of … you know, her heart and mine. I always saw her with it around her neck." a wistful smile passed over her face.

For a few moments, he remembers his mother sitting in her armchair, him at her feet reading, or the two of them side by side watching an old film. Her blue eyes were like his, and she looked at him with tenderness. He had never forgotten his mother, who was gone too soon. But he realizes Panam is waiting for him to continue talking, so he shakes his head to compose himself. "Sometime before she passed away, she gave it to me, telling me I'd give in turn one day. I've always kept it, and the box has been one of the few things I've been able to take with me." he felt his beloved's hand squeeze him, a wave of gentleness washing over him to extinguish the sadness of his memories. "For a long time, I thought I'd keep this necklace for myself, that I'd end up alone. I never thought I could be happy after my forced separation from the Jodes. NetWatch, my life in Night City reinforced that idea."

He looks up at Panam, but she never leaves his sight. Then, she strokes his cheek to comfort him. "Hey, that's all in the past." The warmth of her hand and the softness of her voice remind him why they're here, why this gift. A sigh of ease escapes his mouth before he continues. "What I mean is, I never thought I could be happy one day, or find someone. And today, I'm here, with you, at the place of my best memories. I'm happy."

Placing the necklace back in its box, Panam hugs Virgile and kisses their cheek and nose before really kissing him. She finally settles back into the hollow of his neck, where she places a final kiss, and closes her eyes. "I am too, you know. And it means a lot to me that you'd give me this gift."

They remain like this, alone in the world on the shores of Lake Tahoe, as the sun races on, giving way to night. A light breeze brings them back to reality, and Panam straightens up with a mischievous air he always finds irresistible. "Can you put it around my neck?"

"Wait, I wanted to tell you one more thing." He takes the box in his hand and stares at it, even more nervous. "There's a tradition in my old clan. When you give an object of high sentimental value like this, it means … let's say it's a promise that you want to spend your life with the other person."

He feels Panam's hand move up his chin to meet her golden gaze, but he's unable to guess what she's thinking. " Virgile, are you… Are you proposing to me?" he nods a little too quickly and loudly because he's so nervous. Then put it around my neck, silly."

The last word breaks as tears fill his face. Tears of happiness as he smiles, then laughs…

♥♥

[scribespirare]

the omegaverse fic u made on flowerfang is my favorite hands dowwwnnnn, its so sweet and fluffy and smutty, it hits all the boxes. can u write on miles being pregnant with miggys child please? all the shenanigans that would ensue and the over protectiveness and possiveness ramped up because miles smells even better pregnant. thank you💖

HI i'm trying to start writing regularly again, hope you don't mind it took me forever to get to this request!! I love possessive Miguel so fuckin much you have no idea

uhh so this might be a bit rusty. just as a fair warning lmao

Miguel loves Miles. He really, truly does, more than he ever thought possible.

But sometimes? Sometimes he wants to strangle that damn kid.

From day one, Miles has been oblivious to the affect he has on others. It’s like its never even crossed his mind that he might be attractive to others. That the sway of his hips would draw Alpha eyes, that his big brown eyes could be used as a weapon, that his scent is a siren call.

Miguel had thought being mated to Miles might calm some of his possessive instincts. It’s his bite on Miles’ throat after all. Even Miles’ scent has changed to show his mated status. And for a while, Miguel had calmed down a little.

But now? Now Miles is pregnant. And if Miguel thought Miles was handsome and beguiling before it has nothing on him now with his swelled stomach and milky sweet scent and that fond little look he gets on his face when he pats his belly.

It’s irresistible. Miguel feels like he’s going to drop into rut sometimes just looking at the kid.

Unfortunately, he’s not the only one who’s taken notice.

Miles can’t walk down the street without turning heads. Can’t sit down at a restaurant without the waiters fighting over themselves to serve him. Even with Miguel sitting right there very clearly Miles’ Alpha and baby daddy.

It’s been a few months since Miles gave up crime-fighting (“For now,” Miles has stressed repeatedly) but early in the pregnancy not even the scent blockers in Miles’ suit had kept several villains from catching a whiff of him. The jeering and disgusting come-ons had sent Miguel into a near fury.

The point is, everywhere Miles goes some Alpha is drooling over him. Or Beta. Or even on a few occasions other Omegas.

But Miles? Doesn’t. Fucking. Notice.

Which means Miguel follows Miles around because the kid refuses to stay at home, insisting on visiting his parents, doing the shopping, running errands, and, in a few weeks, attending classes.

“Do you always have to stand like that?” Miles asks lightly without turning around. Even in the noisy metro station Miguel hears him just fine. Part of that is the enhanced senses. The other part is that he’s plastered to Miles’ back, one arm over the Omega’s shoulder and across his chest.

“Yes,” Miguel growls, and readjusts the weight of the grocery bags on his other arm. He refuses to let Miles carry them.

“Overbearing,” Miles says under his breath, and Miguel squeezes him gently in warning.

The platform bustles around them, strangers coming and going with their lives. Miguel’s instincts, Alpha and superhero alike, mean he’s keeping track of basically everyone subconsciously. All of his conscious thought is on the Omega leaning against him despite his complaints. He’s wearing a sun dress today, his favorite one with the sunflowers, and his baby bump and swelling breasts are obvious. When they get home he’ll probably ask Miguel to rub his feet because they’re starting to swell, but if he’s in pain he’s not showing it now.

The train pulls into the station just when Miguel starts to consider using his dimensional portal to get them home faster, despite the fact that he’s definitely put out numerous warnings to the spider society not to use their watches for anything but hero business.

Instead they end up shuffling onto the train together, much to Miguel’s chagrin. It’s rush hour apparently because the car is already crowded before they even step on, much less all the people who get on behind them. They end up somewhere in the middle of the car, Miles turning towards Miguel because he knows his Alpha posses less threat to his pregnant belly than any of the strangers around them. Miguel would prefer he sit down, but not even his glare is getting anyone to give up a seat and Miles would kill him if he made a scene.

So Miguel settles in for the ride, glowering at the people around them and doing his best to block Miles off from the rest of the car.

Miles himself is uncharacteristically quiet, but Miguel chalks it up to how long they’d spent at the supermarket.

That is, until the Omega’s upper lip curls and he turns, whip fast, and grabs the man behind him. “Touch me again and I won’t stop my Alpha from killing you,” he says, loud enough to grab the attention of everyone around them. Granted, it’s New York so nobody actually turns to look, but Miguel can tell plenty of people heard. If Miles were alone someone might have even stepped in.

But Miles isn’t alone. He’s got a 6’9 Alpha hovering over his shoulder who growls low in his throat and meets the gaze of the other Alpha head on. The guy has a scraggly beard and wide eyes that belay his fear despite the way he shuffles back and tries to hold up his hands as best he can. “Hey man, complete accident, the rides bumpy.”

Miles snorts his disbelief, a response Miguel agrees with, and releases the Alpha and turns his back on him. Immediately he’s got a hand against Miguel’s chest and snaps his fingers until Miguel stamps his instincts down and breaks eye contact.

“Look at me,” Miles demands. “Leave it. He’s not worth it. If you make a scene I won’t let you scent me when we get home.”

It’s a good threat and Miguel forces himself to settle again. Still, the moment they reach the station he pulls Miles into a dark corner, sets a portal for their apartment, and shoves the Omega (gently) through it.

“Before you say anything, yes I am aware you’re right that I draw attention, no I will not stop going out in public just because you’re a possessive asshole,” Miles declares the moment they’re through.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill him,” Miguel snaps in response, drops their groceries on the floor, and sweeps Miles up in his arms. The Omega makes an indignant noise but allows himself to be carried to the bedroom, where Miguel strips him and promptly begins scenting him. He smells like the city, like asphalt and strangers and hands where they shouldn’t be, and Miguel doesn’t let up until he smells sweet and milky, like claimed Omega, like home. Like Miguel.

[loving-hunger-games13]

Just don’t

10 years ATR

Haymitch rarely comes over. And when he does, it’s mostly to see Peeta or to see if we have any stocked up liquor once he runs out. But today, it’s different.

I’m sat on the armchair in the front room, buttercup on my lap, when I hear loud steps from out the window. I glance outside to see Haymitch staggering along the path, not as drunk as usual, but still tipsy. His expression is different from his resting scowl, it has been replaced by a confused and sympathetic look. He is holding something in both hands, an envelope, as he walks up to our front door and lets himself in.

He walks round the corner as knocks lightly on the door frame, though I am already looking directly at him. He smiles weakly as he makes his way over to the seat next to me and sighs.

“Are you alright?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “Yeah,” he replies, putting the letter on my arm rest. “This is for you.” “Oh, thank you.” I say as I go to open it, but he stops me. “I… think you should open it… alone”

He stands up, nods at me, then walks out the door and leaves. I sit there confused for a moment then look down at the letter. I flip it over, and see my full name in scruffy handwriting and I instantly recognise it. My mouth opens slightly, unsure that this is real. I know who this is from.

Gale.

Why is he writing to me? What does he want? It’s been ten years and he wants to talk now? I sometimes wonder about him. How he is. If I should contact him. But deep down, I don’t think I ever could or will. Until now.

I open the envelope and pull the folded sheet of parchment out. Unfolding it, I wrinkle my nose at the first words. It read:

‘ Dear catnip,

I cannot find the words to express the emptiness in myself since we parted. I have missed you more than anyone I have lost. You are probably wondering why I have contacted you now, when it’s been so long. I’ve been building a life here in 2, and I never knew what I should say to you. But I have used these years to reflect on myself and now I see the answer. I am sorry. I am sorry that I didn’t realise. I’m sorry she died. I am so so sorry. I know that her loss will forever pain you, and I doubt you will, but I hope one day you will forgive me. Spring will arrive in 2 weeks, our favourite time of year. And for this reason, I have decided I am going to come back to district 12 for a while. I can’t wait to see you again. It will be great.

Love from Gale.’

I stare blankly at the page, letting it sink in. I still don’t understand why he thought this was a good idea. I do not want to talk to him again. I rise from my seat and walk out of the room, down the corridor and to the study. Buttercup following at my heal. Sitting down, I reach into the draw and take out one sheet of parchment and an envelope. It takes me an hour to complete the letter. I seal it, grab my coat and head to the post box. Before I drop it in I look one more time, Gale Hawthorne written neatly across the front of it, turn around and leave, his presence leaving with the letter.

‘Dear Gale,

I will never forget your indifference of death, of murder. The exact reason my sister was blown to bits. Hate driven arrogance, yearning for destruction. My life will never be the same. But I have hope for the future, my future. With Peeta by my side. I chose the one I could not survive without. Because life is nothing without hope. And it’s miserable with destruction. I don’t understand why you want to see me. I thought we were past our friendship. One thing you are right about, is the fact I can never forgive you. I can never see your face, and not think about my sister, glowing orange and red, then into a splatter of blood and body parts on the street. We had good times, and I know that. But you have to realise that we are no more, I know you want to revive what died between us, and come and find me. But please don’t, just don’t.’

[katanashipping]

I know this a leosagi blog but your ask box wasn’t open on your other blog so I am asking here if that’s fine. I looked through your blogs so I don’t think you said but what’s your favorite iteration of raph?

I am sorry I left this sitting in my inbox for so long!

I haven't seen all versions of TMNT that are out there by far, but in general, I prefer versions where Raph is kind and funny, or grows to be kind and funny. His bond with his brothers is the most important to me (as, tbh, with all of the turtles).

Also, I tend to prefer versions that have been out a long time, mostly because when I was younger I had a lot more time to rewatch and reconsider the same media over and over again, and interact with fandom and analysis, whereas these days I just don't have as much time, so I suppose my view is somewhat more reductive of newer iterations of the TMNT in general?

On the other hand, I have rewatched parts of 2k3 pretty much once a year for like 17 years... so I have Thoughts about those boys.

Anyway, out of the versions I have seen and remember, this is my tier list from favorite to least favorite:

2k3 (the all time champion)

Rise (a surprisingly interesting and different version)

2k7 movie (Nightstalker! a childhood fave)

Mutant Mayhem (wish he wasn't so overtly mean)

Batman vs TMNT (I don't remember him much from that movie tbh)

Bayverse (never again)

I have not watched very much of the 87 show (maybe six episodes total, and the Turtles Forever movie), but I think 87 Raph is hilarious and very sweet, so he would be somewhere around Rise for me.

Overall, I prefer Batman vs TMNT to Mutant Mayhem, but MM Raph had a bit more growth, which I liked.

I dislike pretty much everything I remember about the first two Bayverse turtle films though.

I also watched the first season of 2k12 when it came out, but it wasn't really for me, so I didn't include that Raph here because I don't remember him much. I liked how sweet he was with his pet turtle, though. <3

Some reasons that 2k3 is my top tier:

clear progression/growth from S1 to S4 in which Raph works out his anger issues; in later seasons, he is basically all snark and no bite with his brothers and I love to see it

his family grow alongside him and later on, when he needs to blow off steam for half an hour, they let him go without comment and respect his space

I love the special little bond he has with Mikey <3

not to mention the special little bond he has with Casey <3 talk about soulmates 🏍️

I wanted to propose a drinking game where you take a shot every time Raph pushes one of his brothers out of harm's way in a fight or risky scenario, but I abandoned the idea because I like not having alcohol poisoning lol (I think just in Return of Savanti pt 1, which is one of the most recent we rewatched, he does it three or four times???)

not afraid to speak his mind, but also not afraid to change his mind if he's wrong

he's so cute with kids! I headcanon that he and Tyler are still in touch in future and Raph has a special kind of pride in Tyler's progress. ("did you know Tyler got an A on the test? did you know Tyler learned judo? did you know Tyler was accepted into NYU?")

also, the entire episode with Mrs Morris is just <3

cries when emotional (relatable)

has no luck with bugs 🐞

where did he get that accent? don't worry about it!

Gremlin Laugh (tm)

Anyway, that's me! What's your favourite iteration of the boy?

[apollyonsdarksecrets]

Save Her

Part 1

*~* Part Two Part Three*~*

Daryl Dixon X Female Reader (first person pov)

Prompt: there are more than just walkers to be afraid of at the end of the world, and Daryl is determined to keep you safe from it

Warnings: Minors Do Not Enter Abuse, domestic violence, language, unprotected sex (p in v), blood, scars.

AN: This comes from one of my older Wattpad stories, because I am simply out of ideas to write something new. But I’ll forever stand Daryl daddy Dixon. Sooooo

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The prison walls were unusually quiet, cicada singing and the knife thumping against the cutting board the only sounds to be heard. The heat of the south Georgia summer did nothing to lighten everyone’s moods as we scrambled about, trying to find more food and medications for our small group.

I sit quietly on the table top next to Carol as she chops up the last of the tomatoes from our dying gardens.

“I wish I knew when the weather was going to change…” I say meekly, cheek resting on my knee as I roll a tennis ball around the table under my palm.

“Never thought I would miss watching the news as much as I do now.” Carol admits with a soft sigh, drawing a dry chuckle from me before the silence stretched on and I watch her cut into another tomato. I’d offered to help her earlier but she declined, asking if I’d just sit and keep her company instead. So that’s what we’ve been doing for the past hour almost.

A thunder of footsteps suddenly bounced off the concrete walls and my head shots up, relief flooding me as the group enters the room, finally back from their run, talking joyfully amongst themselves. Gavin Parker, my boyfriend of three years, storms past where we sit and straight for our shared cell, ripping the curtain back and disappearing inside.

Confusion contorts my expression but before I can move, a gruff thick voice calls my name. “Hey, Y/n, wanna come help me wit somethin?” Daryl’s accent is thick and undeniable as he stops beside me, large arms crossed over his chest. I glance from him to the still curtain of my cell before hesitantly nodding and easing myself to the ground.

‘I’ll just give Gavin some space… something had to of set him off.’ I think as I follow Daryl out to the courtyard towards the cars where everyone is gathering, laughter and a sense of happiness filling the air.

The cars are filled to the brim with more goodies than I’ve seen in weeks, hell maybe even months. Canned foods, cases of water, baby food, medications, clothes.

“W-where do you guys go?” I breath in amazement as Daryl hoists a crate of food into my arms.

“Rick found a small town bout fifteen miles thataway.” Daryl gestures in a vague direction south of the fence, “Looked like the place hasn’t been touched at all. Has a huge grocery store.” He lifts another crate from the back seat, this one filled with formula and other things for Judith.

My eyebrows furrow slightly as I glance over everything, “But… if it was such a good run, why is Gavin so mad?”

Daryl snorts and starts back towards the prison doors and I follow, shifting the weight of the box in my arms. “Yer little boyfriend is mad at me for savin his life, is why.”

My eyebrows feel like they disappear into my hairline, my mouth going agape as I stare at the back of Daryl’s head. “What? What happened?”

Daryl glances over his shoulder at me, taking in my bewildered expression. “Walker grabbed him because he was being stupid and wasn’t listen to no one. I killed it though before it could do anythin to him.” His explanation only confuses me more, why would Gavin be so mad? “He started yellin about how he had it an got into my face, calling me a red neck som-a-bitch before running back to the car.”

My cheeks heat in embarrassment for Gavin and the fact that his temper always gets the best of him, I sigh as we walk into the cell area. “Daryl, I’m so sorry. I’m sure he didn’t mean it, he must of been scared or-“

“Y/N!”

I jump, so startled I lose my grip on the crate as it topples to the floor, cans of food scattering everywhere catching the attention of everyone in the room. Daryl spins around with a cuss but I’m already on my knees, scrambling to collect the cans in reach. I only look up when a pair of tennis shoes come into view, Gavin leaning over me holding out a can of green beans. “Aw babe, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Gavin’s thick New York accent is wrapped in sarcasm as he stares down at me.

My throat is suddenly dry, and it takes everything in me to school my face into a worry free smile. “It’s okay, you know how clumsy I am.”

“Y/n, are you okay?” Daryl drops his own crate on the table, bending over to grab the cans that rolled his way.

“Yeah, you okay?” Gavin tilts his head slightly, the challenging glint in his eyes to families as he gives me a tight smile, eyebrows raising.

I hold his stare as I reach for the can, praying the slight tremble in my fingers would go unnoticed by everyone around us. “I’m okay.”

Finally looking to Daryl I give him an award winning smile that I can only pray is convincing enough, and only when he gives me a hesitant nod do I break eye contact, going back to cleaning up everything around me. The weight of Gavin’s eyes on me the entire time, calculating, hard, void of emotion.

A gnawing pit grows in my stomach, enveloping me in a sense of unease that would last the rest of the day.

++++

In order to celebrate our small victory, at dinner time we have a small feast, a little of everything to fill our bellies for the first time in weeks. Everyone gathered in the room, talking, laughing, sharing stories from before. Everything was to perfect.

Gavin and I sit on top of a table just behind everyone else, despite the heat I’m curled into his side, arms wrapped around one of his as I watch everyone, picking up bits and pieces of different stories until I catch a pair of intense blue eyes staring at me.

Daryl sits leaning back in his chair, a plate balanced on one knee with his fork caught between his teeth, arms folded behind his head. He looks as dangerous as I know he is, the muscles in his arms flexing every so often as he shifts around, his gaze never leaving mine.

A blush makes it’s way up my neck, burning across my checks as I bite the inside of my lip, the man was handsome, and I felt embarrassment and guilt flooding me as I look down at where my hand was intertwined with Gavin’s. Peaking back up those icy blue eyes where no longer trained on me but rather Rick as he bounces Judith in his arms.

Blowing out a soft breath, I turn my face up towards Gavin, who is already staring at me with those nearly black eyes. I pull out my sweetest smile, crinkling my nose as I do so. “I love you” I whisper loud enough for only him to hear.

Gavin hums softly, brushing a strand of hair back behind my ear. “And you always will, won’t you?” He responds, fingers suddenly gripping my chin roughly. I blanch slightly, all feelings of warmth quickly leaving my body as I nod my head the best I can. Gavin smiles, proud of the control he has over me, “Good girl.”

The sudden scrape of a metal chair across the concrete floor makes everyone jump, Daryl is standing with his hands planted on the table, glaring angrily at Gavin. “Daryl?” Rick looks as confused as everyone around us as they watch us silently.

“What you want, old man?”Gavin scoffs and my skin prickles with anxiety.

I tug at his arm, harshly whispering “What are you doing?” Gavin doesn’t budge, holding Daryl’s stare.

“Watch yerself, kid.” Daryl spits, pushing off the table and storming from the room towards the landing, leaving an angry charge in the air.

[pedropascalito]

This was an ask I sent to @forever-rogue back in 2020 and couldn’t find it in the archives to reblog but I love her responses so much! My question was based on a real event in my life because I am a saucy minx 🤓 gifs are my addition.

——————

What would each character do if you had always been just friends but you were having movie night together and you went to change into "comfy" clothing or pajamas but came back out nonchalantly in a pretty chemise?

Javi ~ you’d been…“just friends” for some time. Mostly just friends, but there had been a few….drunken, late night encounters. Which, of course, neither of you minded. There was always a lot of flirtatious teasing and all that jazz, so one night you decided to jump the ante. You were at his place, having a movie marathon, when you decided to…have a little fun. Excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, under the guise of changing into some pajamas you kept at his place. Instead, you quickly stripped off your clothing to reveal the lacy lingerie underneath. You walked back out, and Javi did such a double take he almost broke his neck. You walked over to him and he stared wordlessly at you. Is that more comfortable? he’d asked, but you insisted you’d be even more comfortable without it on. Javi pulled you into his lap and wasted no time in making you more comfortable.

Ezra ~ he’s a surprisingly shy and gentle man. He’d never expect you to pull a little stunt like that. You were at home together, the one you now shared as roommates, having a quiet night in. You were watching television and he was deeply engrossed in whatever he was reading this particular evening. You excused yourself, deciding to tempt fate, and he’d made a noncommittal sound, not even looking up from his book. You dashed into the bathroom and changed, hoping he would like the pretty chemise you had picked out. When you returned, you didn’t say anything, and neither did he…it actually took him a while to look up but when he did, his jaw dropped. Well aren’t you a sight, pretty little dove. You grinned at him and shrugged innocently before displaying it for him and walking over. He gave you an almost questioning look, as if he was asking if you were sure, if you gave him permission to touch you. But you just nodded and he took your hand, pulling you into his lap. I have an insurmountably long time for this, he drawled in your ear before finally kissing you. 

Catfish ~ he’s lowkey, you’re lowkey, and that’s always worked for the two of you. You always valued the simple things in life, and how relaxed your friendship was, despite harboring feelings for him. But for some reason, you’d gotten a wicked idea when you’d spotted the pretty lace chemise at the store, and purchased it before you thought about it too much. But as you were at your house, relaxing after a long week, with snacks and binge watching some Netflix, you told him you had a surprise. He gave you a curious look, but didn’t question you as you disappeared into your bedroom, quickly changing into the lingerie. You hoped he would like it, or else you didn’t know how you’d recover. He had come into your room after you’d been gone for some time, breath hitching at the sight of you. Your cheeks flushed and you dropped your head, hoping it wasn’t too much. But he quickly chased away any of your doubts, when he came over and crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you like he had never kissed anyone before. You never worried about your decision after that.

Maxwell Lord ~ there’s not such as being friends with Maxwell. He doesn’t do friends. He has those that work for him, or those that provide some sort of service. You fell into the former, working as secretary for some time, so you knew all about him. One day, you came into the office to find an extravagant box sitting on your desk, without a note, but you knew it was from him. Your face felt like it was on fire as you realized that it was not just lingerie, but the most exquisite and expensive kind. Immediately knowing what to do, you had slipped it on and then wrapped up in a coat before going to his office. His dark eyes raked over you with a wicked smile on his face as you dropped the coat and revealed what was underneath. You had wondered when his attention would turn to you; you were more than happy your time had come.

Whiskey ~ he’s a gentleman, no mistaking it. He’d been having a big party at his place, guests were there all night, until it dwindled down to the two of you. You were good friends, always had been, but a part of you wondered if there was more…you hoped there was. So, you’d decided to find out on your own, pretending to help him clean his house, but instead had changed into the pretty little chemise you’d gotten. You walked back out and pretended to clean, not drawing any necessary attention to yourself. Jack’s eyes widened as he nervously started to stammer, refusing to look at you because he would never want to overstep or make you uncomfortable. You just giggled at him and walked over, grabbing his hand away from his face. This is for you, Jack, you all but whispered as he searched your eyes for permission. Once it was granted, he quickly took the opportunity, pulling you into his arms and kissing you with a deep, desperate desire. 

Oberyn ~ he’s a man of wealth and taste, and sex. It’s true, we all know it. But you? You were a friend and hadn’t technically done anything with him, and he respected your boundaries, such as the amazing prince as he was. But after some time, you wanted…no, needed more. So you had gotten some fine silks, and had them fashioned into an even finer shift, the colors of his house, and donned it, surprising him in his bedchamber. He’d been deep in thought and you’d surprised him by your sudden entrance, but his dark eyes light up at the sight of you. He was in bed already, but sat up, gesturing for you to come over; you were top of him, straddling him, within moments. He wanted to kiss you desperately so, but stopped himself, never wanting to do anything without express content. You are positive? his voice was soft and gentle, causing a stirring in your belly, but you decided to answer him with a kiss of your own. You’d waited for your sweet prince long enough.

[nnothingnesss]

Serendipity (Short Story)

Alexie visits a club with her friend Sara. A night of anxiety spirals into a very silent car ride home.

"Lex, you came out of hiding," her aura flushes over me like a blush in my cheeks. "You want to hang out in my room for a little bit? We can do our thing alone before we go out,"

"Yes please" I say.

As we work our way to her bedroom we pass the living room first and then the kitchen. I see Mr. Mueller sitting on a sofa with a newspaper splayed out over his lap. Oldies are filling the room with positive vibrations.

"Nice to see ya 'gain hon'"

"Hey Mr. Mueller," I say excitedly. He's always been what I thought a father should be.

We make our way into her room and she locks the door behind us. She has no idea how badly I freaked out earlier.

"I'm actually kind of surprised you wanted to come Lex," she says

"Honestly I came just to hang out with you," I respond

"You know I love you but it's okay if you don't want to go you know?"

"It's okay, I promise I'm fine,"

"No Lex, I'm so serious, it's okay to not be fine" you can tell she cares the way she looks into my eyes.

"Yeah actually... I'm not fine," As soon as the words leave my mouth she wraps her arms around me and holds me for a second. I didn't expect it.

"I hope you know if anything happens I'm here for you,"

"I know"

I take a quick glance around her room before plopping down on her mattress. I wish we could hang out here forever. New people scare me but I'm not going to tell her that. As I look at the crystals on her dresser she rummages through her makeup box for lip gloss.

"Where are we going anyway?" I ask.

"I convinced them all we should go to Serendipity,"

"Oh they play really good music,"

"I hope you know I had to force them into it. Now you at least get to boogie if they bore you to death,"

"Ugh, thank you. So, who's they?"

"Well Mimi and I used to serve at The Jewel. I've never met her boyfriend but she wouldn't shut up about him so she dragged him along"

"That's nice" I say. Sara freezes to turn around and look at me.

"She said he managed to convince some of his friends to come along too"

"Yay" My tone is flat.

"Lexie if any of those boys piss you off you better come find me"

"Okay I promise" She acts just like a mom sometimes. She finally finds the shade of lip gloss she wants to use and covers her lips with it before giving a good pucker in front of the mirror. She walks over to her closet and bends over to grab her favorite pair of shoes. Dr. Martens. She slips them on and tightens her laces before collecting her essentials. Purse, keys, and even a heart shaped taser to ward off the unholy clubgoer.

"You ready?" she asks quietly. She can probably feel my anxiety from a planet away.

"No," I tell her but I get up and follow her anyways. Meeting new people always puts me on edge but I know she'll have my back if anything happens. She smiles before telling me to stay close to her if I need to. I nod and we begin to make our way through the living room. She kisses Mr. Mueller on the cheek and tells him she'll be back pretty late. We lock the door behind us and the mood suddenly shifts south for me.

It won't be so bad I tell myself. I want to believe I could have a good night and that Mimi and her friends are good people. She seems so excited to finally get her weekend started but I can feel a nervousness take shelter at the bottom of my stomach.

I try my best to keep it under control because I don't want Sara to worry about me all night. We manage to find some street parking in front of the club. It says Serendipity in a bright neon yellow sign pinned against a slate grey wall. As we wait in line keeping our eyes out for her friends you can hear the loud music sending shockwaves through the ground. The chatter is loud and you can see the combination of excitement, dread, and a mix of other emotions on each individual face that makes up the crowd.

People walk in and out in a drunken stupor some having a good night and others, not so good. As we're standing in line we hear a voice call out to us from behind.

"Sara is that you?" a short woman runs toward us. It's Mimi and her boyfriend plus his friends Sara mentioned. Two other guys. My heart sinks just a little deeper.

"Mimi! No way!" they embrace with a warm hug as the guys walk up behind her.

"It's been too long. I missed you so much." She let's go and takes a good look at Sara, "Please come back."

"I missed you too babe. I'll buy your freedom one day, I promise."

"Oh my god, you're making me so nervous. But wait, let me introduce you first. This is Isaiah and behind him is Jay and Huey. Huey's a cook at The Jewel now."

"What's goin' on y'all?" says Isaiah.

"Hey you guys, I'm Sara and this is my bestie," she introduces me and for a second everyone's attention is on me.

"Hi I'm Alexie,"

The line begins moving again and the boys taper behind us as Mimi, Sara, and I stand close together.

"I can't believe it's been so long everyone is like gone now" Mimi says.

"Is everyone really gone? That's so sad,"

"Yeah it's really just me now honestly. Huey's cool though,"

"I mean he is kind of cute too. What do you think Lex? Boyfriend material?"

"Uh-uh, no way, I'm not interested,"

"Don't like players?" Mimi chimes in, "I personally wouldn't either though, he has his moments."

"It's not that, it's just a guy isn't really in the cards as of right now,"

"But wait he's a player?" Sara asks.

"Well, he's just super friendly with all of the girls at work. Like, all of them."

"I mean he hasn't been sleeping around though has he?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I rather keep that stuff and work separate y'know? He's really funny though. They're cool people."

"If you don't want him Lex I just might be laughing at his jokes tonight," Sara winks at me and I roll my eyes back with a smile.

"Trust me, he's all yours,"

As we get closer to the front I dig into my tote and pull out my wallet. I show my ID and the bouncer gives it a rapid glance over before handing it back and ushering me in. I wait patiently for the rest of my group to pass security so we can take our first step into Serendipity together.

My anxiety begins quieting down a little as I hear the music getting louder and louder. It's healing. The further in we go past the coat check corridor the darker the room becomes.

You can feel the energy as soon as you walk in. Serendipity is in full swing. LED's shoot out the wall like lasers onto people's bodies reaching out to the far end of the club. The floor is shaking as the speakers are slipping sonic anodyne into my soul.

It's comforting knowing I can escape to the dance floor and hide behind the music at any time now. The combination of the sonics and ambience feels like entering Shangri-La. All my worries on Earth will just have to wait until I get back.

We manage to find a spot at the menacingly packed bar. Isaiah and Mimi go together to get drinks on the other side while me and Sara stood beside each other with Huey beside me and Jay beside him.

"Can I get a tequila sunrise please?" I wave at the nearest bartender.

"Cash or card?'' they're swamped by a riot of clubgoers. I hand her my card and she opens a tab for me. Once we all have our drinks in hand well all get together in a circle. Mimi suggests we have a toast.

"To the ups and downs. We'll be alright!" We all put our glasses in the air and our drinks illuminate under the sea of lights. Clink.

I make sure to drink as fast as I can so I can get as drunk as possible ASAP. Huey looks at me probably shocked to see me drinking so fast. Me and Sara almost race to the bottom of our cups before we go back to the bartender for seconds together.

"Feeling better?" she shouts at me through the music.

"A lot better!" I genuinely let out a laugh. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad.

As Mimi and Isaiah hit the dance floor me and Sara look at Jay and Huey. They're standing at the bar together ordering their seconds now too. We decide to hit the dance floor just the two of us and chug the rest of our seconds. We're really making those boys look bad right now, I thought.

On the floor I can feel my hips lose control moving like they belonged on a swing at a park. Sara looked so beautiful dancing it almost made me sweat. She was as hot as a mirage kissing the water in the summertime. She wore a black leather bustier to match her black skirt.

We laughed and lost ourselves to the heat of 2000s music as we put our hands all over each other dancing underneath the lights as lovers do. I could feel the intensity of the bass vibrate the room. Time began to blur and as the night went on the passion hit a fever pitch, I wasn't here anymore. I was in Heaven. Sara decided she needed a break. Out the corner of my eye I saw Jay approach her as she walked off the floor and I continued dancing. This was my element. This was my place.

Later into the night I notice Sara and Jay disappeared but I didn't mind it. I felt a sudden pang of anxiety rush back into my body as I realized I was on the floor alone surrounded by unfamiliar faces.

It made me dance harder. I wanted to forget everything. I never wanted to go back home. I danced and danced thinking about how I felt abandoned. I relished in it. Laughed at it. I close my eyes and enter hypnosis to lose myself in the music until I'm abruptly brought back to reality as I feel someone come up behind me. It was Huey.

"You look good," he said. Immediately I remember what Mimi said but I try to play it cool.

"Hey, I didn't see you," I say

"Yeah but I've been watching you, you're smoking on the floor right now"

"You think so?"

"I do."

He puts his hands on my hip and pulls closer to me. He just looks into my face without saying anything. His hands feel kind of good on my body so I don't say anything either. I know that Mimi said he's a player but he didn't seem like a bad guy.

We didn't dance for a whole minute before he tried to lean in and press his cheek on me and immediately the illusion broke. I didn't even know this guy and he only said about four lines to me and now he's trying to push it. Instead of slowing down he dropped his arms lower around me and looked even deeper into my eyes. This time his eyes looked hungry. I immediately felt sober. He was a tall guy and his grip felt too strong for me to fight back.

"Dude what the hell?" I push him off of me and start walking off the dance floor to find Sara.

I look around and all I see are strangers. Through a crowd of people dancing I see Huey coming out towards me and my first instinct is to run to the bathroom. I make a run for it and lock myself inside.

First a moment of stillness. A quiet self-awareness. I feel the weight of life slowly creep back into my bones as I stare hypnotically at the bathroom wall. It feels though the black paint is staring back at me as if to ask, what's wrong? Aren't you happy? Weren't you having fun? Did you forget? I was trying so hard to. I do that sometimes.

I'm afraid of the thought of going back out and seeing Huey again and I'm afraid to tell Sara what she already knows. I'm not fine. All I can do is sit here, curled up in a ball on the toilet, angry at the world for allowing my life to turn out like this. It wasn't always so bad.

I remember me and Sara would hang out all the time with the other kids from my neighborhood and I used to be so social back then. I used to love talking to people and getting to know everything about them. I loved the thought of being a light in peoples lives and spreading empathy as far as my own wingspan would let me.

But I realized if you get too comfortable in the wrong places you'll get hurt. Mom taught me that.

I let my guard down for a second. A moment of weakness. I tell myself never again. Flashes of my life go off in my mind like explosives. I didn't want to leave this bathroom.

I'm not even sure how much time passes by before I'm startled by a loud banging on the door. I don't want to answer. I get up to look at myself in the mirror. The same fair skin and dark hair. My eyes look so sad. I'm so sad. Another knock on the door but this time louder.

"Lex, please open up. It's me." It's Sara's voice. I know Sara would do anything for me. I know even if she saw me like this she'd have so much love to give. I know I need it. But I don't open the door. I don't want her to see me like this. It's so embarrassing.

"Lex, please." Her voice becomes a thoughtful plea. She knows. When I shut down even I don't know. I don't know what I'd do. I decide I need to face the outside world yet again before things get even worse. I open the door. The first thing I'm met with is Sara's eyes. She looks so damn worried.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey,"

"You okay? Huey said-"

"I'm fine."

"Lex, it's-"

"Can we go home? Please?" I don't mean to be so cold. I can see my sadness almost transfer onto her. She tries to hug me again but I back up. I'm so afraid and for no reason. It's almost as if I'm not even me anymore.

"Ok Lex. Let's go home."

We walk together outside Serendipity and in the front there's Mimi and the rest of them. Huey won't even look at me. I'm sure he feels bad about what he did and it's not that I hate him or anything. It's just I was having a really good time before he came and shook me out of it. I got too comfortable and he reminded me of that.

"Are you two okay? What happened?" Asks Mimi,

"Sorry Mimi but I think it's time to call it a night. We're not feeling too hot so I'm going to take Lex back home and go get some rest. I'll call you okay?"

"I'm so sorry. Was it..." Mimi gives Sara a look as if she's telepathically finishing her sentence. Sara sends back a reply with an expression of defeat.

"Call me," Mimi's voice fades into the distance as we return to the car and begin our drive home.

The car ride is silent. I can't take my eyes away from the window as I stare at the city skyscrapers as we pass them by. The buildings pass one by one and my eyes follow them until they're completely out of view.

I look at Sara and she stares at the road with this intensity I only ever rarely see on her face. The only time I ever seen her cry was when she caught one of her long term boyfriends cheating on her with some random girl from her job. They all worked together and even if Mimi never knew it that's the whole reason she quit. Every other time she got upset, she looked exactly the same as she does now.

"I'm sorry, Sara. I didn't mean to kill the night like that."

"Lex you didn't kill the night. It's okay to make sure you're okay first. Nothing is wrong with that."

"I know," She has so much more she wants to says but I can tell she doesn't want to. I don't blame her. I'm fragile sometimes.

"I'm guessing you didn't like Huey as much as he liked you?" She asks

"What do you mean?"

"He saw you dancing. He told Jay he thought you looked really good, he just didn't know what to say."

"Really?"

"I'm so serious. I told him he should go dance with you. I told him you thought he was really cute. I'm sorry."

"It's okay Sara. He kind of was. I just.. I don't know."

"Lex. Can I ask you a question?"

"Hm?"

"How come you won't tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Anything." I never seen her look so serious before.

"I tell you everything Sara, what are you talking about?"

"It's just that, ever since your Mom left you haven't really told me anything. Not about life at home, your dad, about yourself. You either tell me you're fine or you're not fine. Do you not trust me? I just want to be there for you. I have so much love I want to give and," she stops herself. I can tell she's felt this way for a long time.

"It's just that I miss you."

I don't even know what to say. I sit and say nothing for a while. She's right. A deep hole in my heart begins opening. The thoughts slowly come in one by one. My father. My mother. What happened?

"Sara. I love you. It's not that I don't trust you okay? It's just complicated."

"I want to know how complicated it is Lex. You always caught me on my worst days, every time. I just want to do the same for you."

"You do, Sara. Please. Can we just talk about it later?"

"Okay."

The silence fills the car again like smoke would a room. We arrive back at my house and I grab my stuff off the floor. Me and Sara hug tightly and for what feels like longer than usual.

I don't think she realized it but I needed that. She was the only comfort in my life and I'd do anything I could to be with her. I watch her drive off and turn around to face my house. It's a very pretty cage.