#I drew this for his birthday but I was late finishing it rip

[noblest-roman-of-them-all]

Adopted

"Papa?" Virgil glanced up suddenly from his coloring page.

"Yes, my little rag doll?" Janus answered setting aside his book.

"Where did I come from?"

"Well." Janus slipped onto the floor next to his son and pulled Virgil into his lap. "You see, one day I was at the grocery store buying ice cream for your dad for his birthday and when I came out of the store I found that someone had left a baby in carseat on the hood of my car. I took the baby home and put up missing posters for him, but no one ever claimed him so your father and I decide to keep you for our own."

Virgil’s brow pinched. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely!" Janus assured and kissed his brow.

---

"Papa, where did I come from?" Virgil asked. It had been several months since the first time he asked, and this time Janus was ready.

He held out his arms and hefted the boy onto his hip. "On Halloween night, your dad forgot to bring in the Jack-o-lantern he'd carved and filled with candy for the neighborhood kids to pick from. Then at midnight-" Janus's voice suddenly went quiet "-we heard footsteps on the porch! We went very still, listening very carefully till someone tried to open the door." His voice went back to normal tone. "But at that point, we assumed it was your pesky Uncle Roman trying to play a mean trick on us, so your dad and I ran to the fridge where we had water balloons kept just for this moment. We grabbed as many as we could carry and ran as quickly ans quietly as we could to the door then we ripped the door wide open, hoping to catch Uncle Roman by surprise, but instead of your uncle there was you! You were bundled up in a knitted blanket and lying in a basket with a note pinned to the blanket. It said 'this is a good trade for your pumpkin'.

"Now at first your father was very worried, because he thought you might be a vampire baby! But I reminded him that pumpkins don't turn to vampires till after Christmas. After that he agreed to keep you."

Virgil hummed thoughtfully.

"Don't you believe me?" Janus asked innocently.

"Uncle Logan says vampires aren't real."

"That's because your Uncle Logan is terribly boring." He quickly kissed the boy's pudgy cheek. "Run along and play now, I need to finish dinner."

---

"Papa?"

Janus glanced in the rear view mirror at Virgil, strapped safely in his carseat. "Yes, pumpkin?"

"Where did I come from?"

Janus sighed. This time it'd only been a few weeks since the last time Virgil had asked. "Well, one day, I was working late at the library because we had just gotten a new shipment of books and it was my job to make sure they all got logged and had the library's stamp on the inside. It was very dark out side because it was winter now and it was very quiet because the library was closed. Then! Very suddenly and without warning the book drop off panel opened up! Now, this isn't strange during the day, but at night it's very strange indeed. Especially because no books came at all. Instead a voice called out, 'Delivery for Janus the Librarian!', " Janus put on a faux deep voice for that part and it drew a giggle from Virgil. "So I did what any sane person does and I ran outside to get my package. And gets what it was!"

"Was it me?"

Janus smiled and nodded. "It was you. I took you home right away, just in case the delivery man realized he'd made a mistake. It would have made me very sad because I saw you in the little cardboard box and loved you so much I knew immediately that I wanted to keep you forever."

Virgil gave a grin and Janus smiled at his missing front teeth. "Love you, Papa."

"I love you too."

---

"Papa?" Virgil asked as Janus pushed him on the swing.

"Yes, little one?"

"Where do babies come from?"

Janus blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Why, they're dropped off by messenger falcons, of course." He tried to make it sound like he wasn't asking a question.

"Oh. Is that the bird on Dumbo that brings the babies?"

"No, those are storks," Janus nose scrunched in annoyance. Of course he'd gotten the bird wrong.

"Oh. How come the used the wrong bird in Dumbo?"

"Because Disney think it's funny to get things wrong on purpose. And you can tell Uncle Roman I said so."

---

"Papa?" Virgil asked as Janus helped him into the car after school.

"Yes, little bug?"

"Did I really come from messenger falcons?"

"No, you were a very special baby. You see, the year you came to us was a very special year. Aaall year long your dad and I did our best to be very, very good. Your dad didn't call Uncle Roman mean names and I even secretly paid other people's library fines for them. Then on the first day of December we wrote letter to Santa telling him about how we had done our very best to be very good. And we asked him if he could give a little baby boy all our own for Christmas that year.

"And then we waited. And it was the longest month of the longest year of my whole life. But finally Christmas morning came and we woke up to the sound of a baby crying and it was the most beautiful sound because we knew we'd gotten our special wish when we got you." Janus lightly booped the end of Virgil’s nose.

"If I write Santa a letter and you and Daddy write Santa letter do you think he'll give me a baby brother for Christmas?"

Janus blinked. He hadn't been expecting that. "We can talk to your dad about the idea."

---

"Hey, we're home!" Remus called out and slung Virgil’s backpack on the couch.

"How was your day volunteering in class?" Janus asked as he came out of the study.

"Good," Remus answered, slipping an arm around Janus's waist and pulling him into a hug. Janus kissed his cheek, drawing a goofy grin from Remus. "Better now."

"Papa, guess what!" Virgil beamed with excitement.

"What?" Janus asked, matching his tone.

"There was a new kid in class today! His name's Remy and he said I'm adopted like he is!"

Janus's jaw fell open and his head snapped to Remus. "You let someone else tell him he's adopted?" He demanded.

Remus shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "I dunno, babe, I kinda feel like this one is on you. He's been asking about it for like a year now."

"Don't try to pin this on me!"

"Jan, honey, babe, darling, sunflower, light of life, and the reason I get up in the morning." He set his hands on Janus's shoulders. "Ya told the kid you found him in the mailbox. His teacher was getting ready to contact the counselor for you."

"I was just. Waiting for the right time," Janus huffed.

"He's been asking for a year, babe. It was time for him to know. I know it sucks you weren't there for it, but the other kid actually did a really good job of explaining it and in case you couldn't tell, Virgil is really happy to be adopted."

Janus sighed and glanced down at Virgil, who now looked up with worry on his young face.

"Did I make you sad, Papa?"

"No, my love." Janus sat on the floor and held out his arms. Virgil sat on his lap and hugged him tightly. Janus smiled and hugged him tightly. "The day we adopted you was one of the happiest days of my life, I want you to know that. I wouldn't change adopting you for the world. But there were some...difficult things that happened before that. And sometimes the bad things get mixed up with the good things in my brain so it's easier for me to pretend none of it happened at all. And that you just appeared out of nowhere. Because it helps me think of only the good things in that way. But I will never be sad that we adopted you, I promise." Janus pressed a kiss to Virgil’s temple and smiled when Remus settled on the floor with him, enveloping them both in a secure embrace. "I love you, Virgil."

"Love you too, Papa."

#sanders sides #janus sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #familial anxceit #demus #sanders sides au #silly parent aus #my wiriting

[ironverseocs]

OC Valentine's Challenge 2024 -> Day 1: First Love

(Read on AO3)

Melissa scrambled up the limbs, hand over hand, feet scraping bark off where they struck and kicked off against the organism. She laughed as she chased Jackson higher up.

“Race ya to the top!” he said, unnecessarily so since he was already a yard from the last bough with two yards between him and Melissa.

“Says you with the head start,” Melissa sneered playfully. Nonetheless, she eagerly spurred on the pace.

Once she reached the last stable bough – something sturdy enough to support her weight to sit on –, she seated herself with her legs hanging off one side and her left hand wrapping around the top of the trunk for support. Jackson mirrored her on the opposite side. She could see half his face through the needles of the pine.

“So, what is it you wanted to give me?” she asked.

Jackson just smiled, a little bit sly, a little bit coy.

Melissa frowned.

“Don’t tell me it’s just this. Like, the view or whatever,” she said, finishing in thought, because that would be lame.

“It’s not.”

She waited for him to continue, to say what it was, but he held silent another moment longer.

“So?” she drew out. “What goes, Jack?”

Jackson sucked in his lips, pressing his mouth into a line. Suddenly, it was like all his glee had vanished and only his giddiness remained. He stared at her a second longer, then ripped his gaze away to stare at the ground below, a sizable drop below. Was that… sheepishness she was seeing? Why would he be scared? They had hung out all Summer since the moment he moved to her neighbourhood. They went to the movies together, biked to the far side of town, stayed up late into the night playing video games under the same roof or apart and online, speaking through headsets, trying to keep their voices low so they don’t wake up the whole of their households. His eyes drifted to a pocket on his cargo shorts before glancing behind him.

Melissa’s brows knit harder into one another.

He shoved his hand into the pocket and pulled out a parcel—brown paper wrapping with a red string tying off.

“Happy birthday,” he said quietly—in a tone that blew away all thought from the girl’s mind—and pressed his hand forward.

It was all Melissa could do to stare at it.

“For you,” he urged.

“Right. Duh,” she parried back and caught him in a glance before she took the parcel into her own hands. She flipped it over, studied the way the knot in the string was made and the tape was laid perfectly parallel with the edges of the paper. She looked at Jackson again.

There was a lump suddenly in her throat. “What is it?”

“Are you forgetting how gift giving works? You’re supposed to unwrap it and find out!”

Melissa holds back her sheepishness and peels the tape off with her fingertips. The package is irregularly shaped, cylindrical but squat, about one inch deep and three in diameter. It’s heavy, making Melissa guess it to be made of metal. She finishes peeling off the last of the tape, unraveled the paper, and revealed —

Her eyes flash wide and round; glittering bronze, polished glass, a shifting stick half red, half white with letters inscribed around the outside. White on black. Despite its now polished nature, she can tell it used to be old. An antique.

“Jackson, I — how much—” Breath catches in her throat. “This must have cost…” She doesn’t know exactly, but the gist…? “A lot. What made you– why– ?”

He shrugs. “I knew you’d like it. And…” He looks away, his cheeks tingeing with pink. “I like you.”

It’s Melissa’s turn to turn pink, from the tips of her ears to the bridge of her nose. Butterflies begin to flutter in her stomach, preparing for a liftoff. He likes me? she repeats internally, trying to comprehend what that actually means. She blinks, trying to make sense of it, and then it hits her: Yeah, right, he likes her; they’re friends. Why would he hang out with her if he didn’t like her?

But then, why would he have to say something like that, if both of us already know it’s true?

“Sure,” she says simply, cautiously, “like, as a friend, right?” Melissa studies the antique compass resting in her palm while in wait for a response. While probing the space for clarity, she cannot look at him. She cannot give him more than her carefully chosen words. She cannot take this too fast— assume too much, and fall flat on her face as a result.

“No, like…”

Jackson’s hand is suddenly on her wrist, gentle yet alluring, and the gesture tugs at her mind enough that she allows her curiosity to take over. She shifts eyes to the corners, lifts her chin a fraction… he takes his hand away, now that he’s got her attention, and smiles—a small smile not like the one before slightly sly but innocent and pure like stars in a midnight sky.

“Like this.” He leans forward, over the tops of the pine branches, and presses a kiss to her cheek. Before she can react, he pulls back, suddenly flushed with colour, gaze sheepishly casting down. But then, he realises, and his posture springs up; he looks alarmed. “I’m sorry. That was probably too much. I think I—”

“No,” Melissa states firmly, and her confidence shocks the both of them. “Why ‘sorry’?” And then she laughs. She can’t help it. The lost puppy look on his face makes it all ten times better. She should stop— she should sober up and ease his worries, but she can’t, for all she’s feeling is one hundred percent glee. “No no, you can’t be sorry,” she starts again. “Because if you’re sorry, I can’t do this.”

As best she can, Melissa twists on the branch she’s sitting on so she’s facing him, closes her fist around the compass (to tuck it into her coat pocket), and then reaches herself forward to catch him on the lips.

It’s a quick peck. Like his was to her cheek. But Melissa hopes it conveys all the sentiment she is unable to express into words. For things like this, words barely do the feelings justice. A simple ‘thank you’ does not express the warmth behind her sternum, filling up her ribcage.

When she pulls back…

“I like you, too,” she says. “So, there.”

Jackson’s smile is slow to grow across his face, but he says back to her, “There.”

“Thank you,” Melissa presses, “times a million, for the present. I can’t believe that you’d… How did you afford it?”

“Told my dad I wanted it, then gave it to you.”

Just like that? If she were in another state of mind (not a young love-spun one), she’d marvel at how easy he made that sound, how Jackson had spoken of his deed like it was easier than a breeze. Like using his parent to give him something that he wasn’t even going to keep… and then giving it to her… the awe of it wrapped around Melissa’s mind and would not let go.

“Well, tell you dad thanks for spending the money,” she jokes.

He smiles.

"But,—" more sincere, "thank you for getting it in the first place."

They’re back to their usual dynamic, it seems, but with one very significant change:

Now, they hold each other’s hands.

–

forever taglist -> @ocappreciation @ochub @arrthurpendragon @foxesandmagic @shrinkthisviolet @themaradwrites @goldheartedchaoticdisaster | dm me or send an ask if you'd like to be added :)

#allaboutocs #ochub #ocapp #ocappreciationtag #ovc24 #star trek ocs #oc: melissa mccoy #fd: star trek #startrekedit #star trek #oc valentine's challenge #type: drabble #type: one shot #type: aesthetic

[askpokemoncrossover]

Victim of Curiosity

Responding to...

Mod Note: What is happening here is similar to my fear for my Parent who had heart diseases and went to the hospital several times over the course of my life. Part of it is already dead and I'm afraid that one day they might be claimed by it in the near future. I sat beside their bed during one event and i feared the worst back then. They're not in the hospital but i'm watching over them, just making sure that they're safe...

The lucario sat down in the presence of two incarnates. Fear and Hope. Sai knew that this will be his toughest challenge yet: Telling the truth of his past... The incarnates are good with advice.

He feared that this would be a sensitive subject for them... Yet he hoped that they can offer an answer however way they can.

He was still the nervous boy that the Incarnate of Fear encountered him that day, Corrupted it may be. But that memory is still fresh in his mind. He could still feel the venom that laced in her words as it seeped through him. Now... is the time to cure it.

"...My life ended right after I was brought into it." He spoke in a shaky tone.

The Fear in his words and the weight it carried were as clear as the sky above him, but there is determination in them. He needs to see this through. Sai put a hand on the zipper of his jumpsuit, traced it downwards and his green clothing opened up to reveal a huge X-shaped scar on his chest. Intersecting right where his biological heart lay.

"...Right after I was announced dead, these scientists did something to me. Promised my parents that they could 'help' me... They were right, but... It did more than what my parents hoped for."

He stated as he showed Dravol the scar on his flesh and his soul. "My life was normal until after my 18th birthday, I finished evolving... I got stronger and better. I thought it was due to my training. I was partially right."

The lucario shuddered as he removed his hand from the jumpsuit and on his knee and just tried to keep them from shaking.

"...I was attacked by a pokemon in a crimson, Blood-red jacket who had powerful psychic abilities. I was shown just what they did to me: A bright yellow z-crystal with a star pattern was painfully stitched on my broken heart... I don't know how they got it... or why that man showed this to me... but, if his objective was to break me then... he succeeded."

He can still feel it running through his chest, painting the blade crimson. Ever since then, he had no one else to turn to ask... He hoped that the one beside him could offer advice where his friends and family couldn't possibly give.

" Learning I was dead? That... thing brought me back...? Knowing that I'm... a science experiment gone horribly wrong? Feeling what it's... d-doing to me?" His whole body shook violently, he tried to keep his emotions in check but... "...It's my life line, If I remove it, I die. If it's damaged or destroyed, I die. But, the things that it's doing to me... It's changing me, giving me powers and abilities I've never had before, I have no idea what to do with them or how they work. I... I'm scared."

This is no ordinary tale... To him at least. it feels like his chest was ripped open and it's contents were exposed to the world. a fear that had been plaguing him to this point in time and continues to do so now. This is his True Fear.

"Would this power one day... be so overwhelming that I can't stop it? Did this Z-crystal belong to someone else before It was stitched to my life? If so where are they? Do they want it back? Is there any way for me to be... normal? Or... is it already too late?"

Question upon question as his hand went to his scar, he was hyperventilating as he struggled to maintain himself... "Is this even my life? Do I deserve to be here...? D-do people want to be around me, knowing this? Am I even considered to be alive? I... is-"

His nails went into his flesh and he drew blood, his breathing became ragged and his eyes were watering with tears.

"... Is this... e-even... My heart?"

His greatest fear: Is the very thing that keeps him 'alive' as it makes him go down a long and twisted road. A road that may or may not change everything he once was...

@asksavel

#saisei #dravol #laivan #Lucario #Delcatty #Dragonair #asksavel #askpokemoncrossover #Response #interaction #tw panic attack

[hurt-comfort-lover]

Mirabel AU / Mirabel Angst / Mama Mirabel / Part Seven

She walked in and Senora Gabriela excitedly hugged Mirabel.

“Hola Mira, how’s your day been so far?”

“It’s been good, Tonito and I went to the forest after breakfast.”

“Well I’m glad, I made you a special pastry to have with your lunch today.”

“You didn’t have to Senora Gabriela.”

“I know, but I wanted to.” She said as she pinched Mirabel’s cheek. 

“Did you make me one too?” Antonio asked excitedly.

“Of course I did Antonio!” Gabriela said as she hugged him as well. 

“I’m going to finish the project that I started yesterday,” Mirabel said as she set down her bag.

“No no no. Not today. Today you’re going to rest and have a good time. I won’t let you work on your birthday.” Gabriela said with a cheeky smile. Antonio’s face dropped.

“W-wait, I forgot your birthday?” he asked with sadness written all over his face. Mirabel bent down and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

“Of course not silly hombrecito. You’re too little to remember dates like that. Yes though, today is my birthday.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t even have a present.” He said defeatedly. 

“It’s not too late Tonito, if you want I can help you,” Gabriela said while booping his nose.

“Gracias Senora!” He said while jumping.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” Mirabel asked Gabriela.

“Si, why don’t you just sit on the couch and relax. Maybe you could sketch out some dresses or crochet a bit.” Mirabel nodded and plopped onto the couch, while Antonio and Gabriela went into the back.

“Would you like to see what I got Mirabel?” she asked.

“Si!” He said, and she took him towards her closet where she pulled out a lacey blue dress. It puffed out at the bottom, and it had butterfly designs surrounding the bottom of the dress. 

“Did you make this Senora?”

“Si, but don’t tell Mirabel yet. It’s a secret.” She said while putting her finger up to her lips.

“I promise.”

“Ok, why don’t you try thinking of what she likes.”

“She likes butterflies!” he exclaimed.

“What if you drew her some butterflies?”

“Yeah! I could make them blue like her dress.”

“Smart thinking Tonito, you can color over here in the back while I go talk to a client, si?”

“Si Senora.” He said while pulling out one of his notebooks.

The day went by quickly, and Mirabel graciously thanked Gabriela for making her a special pastry on her birthday. Though Gabriela insisted that it was her pleasure. By the time lunch was over Gabriela had wrapped her present, and then helped Tonito wrap his present. The wrapping paper was dark blue, and they both put a white bow on top. Gabriela and Tonito brought their gifts out and Mirabel smiled. 

“Open mine first!” Tonito pleaded.

“Of course hombrecito.” She said as she gently tore off the bow and ripped the paper off to reveal a drawing of blue butterflies in a meadow that said Felix Cumpleanos. 

“This is beautiful hombrecito, gracias.” She said as she gave him a big hug and littered kisses on his face.

“Miraaa!” He whined as he wriggled out of her grasp. Gabriela and Mirabel both laughed as Gabriela handed Mirabel her present.

“Gracias Gabriela.”

“Shush, don’t thank me yet, you haven’t even opened it.” Mirabel chuckled and tore the bow and paper off to reveal a white box. She opened it and pulled out her beautiful blue dress. It was like a dress only a princess would wear. Tears welled in her eyes as she smiled. She gently folded the dress back into the box before jumping onto Gabriela, crying in her arms.

“Muy gracias Senora. I don’t know how I could ever repay you for your kindness.”

“You never have to pay me back Mira, you are growing to be a beautiful young woman, I see it in you every day. I love you as if you were my own daughter.” She tried it on, and it fit perfectly, the dress puffed out as Mirabel spun in it. She took it off so as to not ruin it, and then they had to head home for dinner.

“Feliz Cumpleanos Mirabel.” Gabriela said as they headed home. Mirabel held the white box tight, it was better than anything she could’ve asked for. When they arrived home Mirabel tried to go straight to the nursery but was stopped by her mami.

“Lo siento Mirabel, it’s been a long day.” She said as she gave her youngest daughter a hug.

“What are you holding?” Antonio answered for Mirabel,

“It’s her present from Senora Gabriela!” He exclaimed. 

“Oh that’s so nice of her, what was the special occasion?” she asked. Mirabel put on the best fake smile she could muster as Antonio was shocked. I mean he was little, which is why Mirabel told him it was fine that he forgot, but her Mami? How did she forget? 

“Did you for-”

“It’s nothing. She was just being nice.” Mirabel interrupted him.

“Ah, well te amo Mirabel.”

“Te amo Mami,” she responded as her mom walked away.

“Why didn’t you tell her it was your birthday?”

“It’s ok Tonito. On my birthday when I was younger something bad happened and so we don’t really celebrate anymore. She’s busy anyway, I don’t want to bother her.” She didn’t deserve to celebrate her birthday. 

“Ok..” he said as they walked to the nursery. She put the white box underneath her bed.

“Aren’t you going to wear the dress?” He asked.

“I don’t know hombrecito. I don’t want to ruin it, and we need to eat dinner.”

“Can you wear it after dinner?”

“Anything for you Tonito.” She said as she kissed the top of his head. They sat down for dinner. Mirabel acted normal, though her smile was merely a facade to how she felt on the inside. The thoughts that plagued her, held her captive. Antonio looked expectantly at everyone, waiting for someone to tell Mira happy birthday. Even if they don’t celebrate, they should still wish her a happy birthday, right? To Mirabel's surprise, fate would have something in mind for her. As everyone finished eating they went to their separate rooms, that is everyone except Dolores who lightly tapped Mirabel's shoulder.

“Si?” Mirabel asked in a quiet voice.

“Um… Feliz Cumpleanos Mirabel. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“Gracias Dolores.” She said as she walked with Tonito to the room. Her insides bubbled with happiness. Even if Dolores didn’t remember until Tonito said it, she still appreciated the sentiment. She put the dress on and Antonio and Mirabel danced together until Antonio began to yawn. Then they got into their pajamas and went to sleep. Mirabel got a good night's sleep that night. Though her thoughts still plagued her, she didn’t let them ruin her happiness. She had the best fifteenth birthday.

#mirabel angst #mirabel centre #mama mirabel au #mirabel madrigal #mirabel encanto #antonio madrigal #disney encanto #encanto #encanto angst

[momentarysilence]

fire boi 🔥

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #suzuki shou #shou suzuki #my art #fanart #anime fanart #I drew this for his birthday but I was late finishing it rip

[ajcrowlor]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY OLD MAN 🎉🎉🎉

it was a close call, but Cas was able to wrestle the stand mixer into submission. and while Jack was a bit overzealous with the sprinkles, the majority of them did end up on the cake... so overall? a baking success!

(especially when Dean had no hesitation about planting one on Cas despite him being covered in the blood [flour] of his enemies [stand mixer])

-------

so uh. super(natural) fucking late on the Dean birthday art i only finished this last week and then just. forgot to post it. ha ha ha rip

ANYWAYS last year's bday art was one of the first full things i drew with procreate so it's nice that there's been? improvement? i think? also i enjoyed the concept of real!pie far too much and decided to do the same thing yet again with the cake lmao

#Supernatural #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Jack Kline #destiel #Taylor's art #Tay art #Dean birthday art #Tay digital art #Tay SPN art #Nadiaphale sitting next to me constantly losing her shit every time i added something more to Jack; #his big smile! his colourful outfit! his silly bandz! HE IS COVERED IN SPRINKLES !!! #like baby!Jack is the superior endgame and im EVEN MORE CONVINCED now that i've been drawing him 💛 #anyways *prints up own art* *crumples up the page* *eats the paper*

[danielxricciardo]

Hello! I don’t know if you’re up for Carlos’ promt.😅 I’m really a fangirl😂 I always wanted to right fanfic but I was never good with words, and I always check up on your blog for new ones. I know there’s only one fanfic for Carlos atm, so if I Can I request like Carlos is jealous because Max is the character’s ex? Like they’re already engaged but Max is still trying to fight for her and Carlos is really jealous and mad? A bit of angst would be great🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 Thank youuuu!

You drew circles on Carlos's bare back in an attempt to wake him slightly. You looked at your ring finger on which now stood a beautiful diamond ring, the most beautiful you had ever seen, and memories of last night filled your mind and formed butterflies in your stomach.

When your best friend spontaneously took you to a shopping session followed by a manicure and pedicure appointment, you thought it was her way of spending time with you after she had been extremely busy with work for the past few months. It never occurred to you that Carlos might be up to something even when you saw that he and Lando's location was off. Why would you think Carlos was planning something? It was Tuesday, there were a few months until your birthday, Carlos' birthday had just passed, it wasn't your birthday, damn, it wasn't even your dog's birthday. Although, in retrospect, you had to realize that something was wrong. Your best friend in the mall on a Tuesday afternoon? She the one who goes to work even when she has the flu or when she broke her leg and had to keep it in plaster for two months.

But you didn't even realize his plan when your best friend bought you a gorgeous dress and made you wear it before you left for home. Honestly, you wouldn't look decent for an engagement just in ripped jeans and a T-shirt.

When she stopped in front of the house and stopped the engine you asked her what was going on but she just said she wanted to take the pair of jeans she had lent you a few months ago because she had a date and she wanted to wear them. You didn't pay much attention and opened the car door.

From the house you could see a very diffused and dim light. Candles? You thought then and you were tempted to think it was a power outage but the neighbors had light. Did I pay the current bill this month?

When you opened the door of the house and saw the rose petals on the floor you immediately thought of a romantic dinner with Spanish food, in no case did you expect to see Carlos on his knees in the middle of your living room. At that moment, everything made sense.

“You are the only one who understands me even more than myself. You are the only one with whom I can share everything, even my personal secrets. I want you to be with me always. I believe that if we’re lucky enough to have found each other in the first place, we’re worth betting on for life. Will, you hold my hand and be mine forever?” Carlos had said in a voice trembling with emotion and the ring in his hands.

You would never have answered otherwise than yes. You didn't even notice Lando in a corner of the living room filming everything or your best friend who was no longer behind you but somewhere to your right taking pictures.

Carlos, with trembling hands, put the ring on your finger and kissed you, his hands making room on your cheeks, wiping away your tears. You were happy. You have found your forever home.

You all opened a champagne and listened to how Carlos planned, with the help of your best friend, for three months, the whole engagement. He told you how close you were to turning all his plans upside down.

"I bought the ring when I was in Abu Dhabi for the Grand Prix," he says, and you remember that Grand Prix was three weeks ago. "When I bought it, I stayed with Lando, I think, for two hours in my hotel room, thinking about where to hide the ring so that you wouldn't find it when I returned home and it would be handy for me to take it out quickly and hide it at home. I finally decided to hide it in a pair of socks and put it in the small compartment of my bag. On my way home, however, I completely forgot that I put the ring in my bag. I was firmly convinced that it is in the backpack and when I got home you immediately took the bag to wash my clothes, as you always do. When I opened the backpack and saw that the ring was not there, I panicked extremely hard and ran to you to get the bag." he finishes telling the story and you start laughing.

You remembered that day perfectly.

"Is that why you were so white in the face? I really thought you were sick."

"Good morning, my beautiful fiancée." Carlos says in his harsh morning voice and looks at you with glassy eyes.

You smile at him and bend down to kiss him.

"Good morning, my wonderful fiancé."

He gets up in bed and hugs you.

"You have no idea how happy I am that I can hug you and say that you are mine now."

"And I was yours before, only now I have a ring on my finger."

"Mhm," Carlos says, muffled by your hair. "Now you have a ring on your finger that can keep Max away from you."

The smile on your face faded slowly. Max? What did Max have to do with your engagement? Sure, he's your ex-boyfriend, but you broke up three years ago.

It was a pretty hard breakup, more for him than for you. You broke up with him because you felt your relationship was no longer working. He didn't pay enough attention to you, you often quarreled and you felt like the love you had for him was fading with each passing day.

Max didn't comment on anything when you broke up with him, saying that it was better for both of you to go your separate ways.

That was until he saw you hand in hand with Carlos less than two months after the breakup. What he was feeling was a new feeling: jealousy. He couldn't understand the fact that you broke up with him and now you're in love with Carlos. When had this happened? Did Carlos like you when you were still together? Did you like him when you were in bed with him? He had many questions, but he would have died rather than asking you, showing you that he still cares about you.

So, he decided to ignore you, to ignore you both, hoping that your relationship won't last. But he saw you every day laughing at his jokes, he saw how he kissed the lips he had kissed until recently, how he held your hand that once caressed his hair.

It's true, lately Max and you have gotten closer. You have realized that there is no point in resentment between you considering that you see each other every day and, in the end, you are two responsible adults, you can behave nicely with each other.

Or so you thought. Carlos saw behind Max's actions. He saw how his touch on your shoulder lasted longer than normal, how in a room full of people Max is looking for you, he noticed that he always wants to know your opinion when he asks a question. Carlos realized pretty quickly that Max wants to win you back and he didn't tell you that just once.

How many times have you told Carlos that you don't care what Max's intentions are, that you love Carlos, he didn't seem to understand.

"What do you mean by that, Carlos?" you say annoyed. "Did you ask me to marry you to prove something to Max? To show him he has no chance of being with me?"

Carlos stood up and looked at you with wide eyes. You were angry, very angry and he knew he had said something wrong.

"No, of course not, love. I asked you to marry me because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Yeah, that's what you said last night in your speech. But now you're bringing Max up and I don't understand why. Did I do anything to make you doubt me?"

"No, no, of course not. You didn't do anything, love.

"You get out of bed and go to the bathroom.

"Then what is it? I keep hearing about Max. Max said that, Max did that, like Max is the third person in this relationship."

"I don't trust him!" he says in exasperation. "He's still trying to get under your skin and you allow him. I can't believe you don't see that he wants you back!"

"Carlos, for God's sake, do you hear yourself? He wants me back! Very well, let him want me for all I care! It's been three years since I broke up with him, don't you think I'd be back with him by now if that’s what I want? Understand that I can't control if he likes me or not, but I can control my feelings. And guess what, my heart chose you. So stop with this stupid jealousy!"

Carlos bites his lip and looks at you.

"You're right. I'm very sorry." he says and takes you in his arms. "Please forgive me, I'm very insecure because I love you so much and I don't want to ever lose you.

"You smile then kiss him.

"I am yours, forever."

"Forever."

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz jr #f1 fanfiction #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #f1 2021 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #fanfiction #formula one oneshot #formula one imagine #forumula one #formula 1 oneshot #formula one #formula 1 #scuderia ferrari #ferrari #carlos sainz jr oneshot #carlos sainz jr fanfiction #carlos sainz jr imagine #carlos sainz imagine

[mc-lukanette]

Being the little girl that she was (both in age and height), Marinette couldn't see over the railing of her balcony without a bit of effort, but that didn't stop her from being there. The balcony was her little hideaway from the world where she felt that she could do whatever she wanted, able to recognize the footsteps of her parents before they actually showed up so she had time to break back into reality and hide anything she might've been working on for them.

That particular day, she'd taken to drawing, a box of crayons and a sketchpad at work for her; she'd gotten them for her birthday and hadn't accepted anything else to draw with ever since. The crayons were plentiful, displaying more colors than she could've ever needed, whereas the sketchpad had paper about twice the size of a normal sheet.

She was given even more of an excuse to spend her time on the balcony that day since the wind wasn't strong, allowing her to draw to her heart's content without worry of her papers getting blown away.

Lying on her stomach, she was partway to drawing the light pink dress she'd seen in her dreams when the sound of a guitar made her stop. She'd heard music being played near her house a few times, but those were a lot more loud and chaotic whereas the current music seemed more subdued and calm.

She looked around, then pushed herself up into a sitting position and shuffled over to the fence of the balcony. Peeking through the bars, she followed the sound's source to the houseboat floating in the Seine, practically right in front of her house. There was a boy sitting there, his back facing her and a slightly over-sized guitar in his lap. His hair was messy, but the tips were highlighted in a gorgeous blue color that put her crayons to shame.

The music he played was actually really good, even though he wasn't perfect at it, and she felt impressed since she didn't know the song he was playing. Maybe he wrote his own music?

It took her a few minutes to realize that she'd done nothing but get lost in the sound, her paper and crayons left abandoned behind her. Snapping to attention, she got an idea and turned around, hurrying to get back to them so she could enact it. Without even a thought spared for her sketchpad, she ripped out a sheet of paper from it, setting the sketchpad aside and pulling out the blue and black colors from her box of crayons.

On the single sheet of paper, laid out horizontally, she took the blue crayon and started drawing various music symbols near the corners. She wasn't a musical expert by any means, but she knew enough and added a guitar just for effect. Then, right in the middle, she used the black crayon to write a simple message:

Your music is pretty.

That done, she pushed her crayons off to the side and began meticulously folding the piece of paper. Given that she loved arts & crafts of all kinds, she knew by heart how to do all sorts of origami.

Making something as simple as a paper airplane was almost too easy for her.

She took the folded message in her hand, then stood and walked over to a nearby stool, dragging it until it was right by the center of her balcony's fence. She stepped onto it, now able to peek over the railing and see the houseboat without any bars in front of her vision to obscure it. Sticking her tongue out to the side, she reeled her arm back, then threw the plane in the direction of the Seine. A hint of doubt briefly overtook her concerning her aim, making her reach out for the plane, but it was far too late to stop it.

The paper airplane soared smoothly at first, courtesy of her throw, but dipped soon after due to the lack of wind. Marinette nervously bit her bottom lip, watching it soar another few meters before dipping again, even as she silently pleaded for it to go farther.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a gust of wind came from behind her. She winced at the chill, then gasped as she saw the paper airplane pick up speed and almost seem to steer itself in the right direction. It flew past the streets and sidewalks, turning just slightly as it actually reached the houseboat, causing it to swerve into the boy's eyesight when it landed on the deck.

The music stopped as the boy's head tilted down at the paper, clearly seeing it. He paused, then carefully set his guitar aside as he got up. He went over to the plane, then picked it up, examining it for a moment before finally starting to unfold it. Marinette giggled when he had the whole thing undone and held out, as it looked as if he were holding a treasure map.

She couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that she couldn't see his immediate reaction, given that he wasn't facing her, but hoped that the message made him happy anyway.

When his arms lowered, signifying that he was done reading, he looked around the houseboat, then turned to search the streets behind him. Marinette realized that he was looking for the writer of the message once his gaze drew upwards to meet hers, and she could just make out his blue eyes.

She squeaked, lowering herself at first to hide, then steeled up her confidence and rose back up, waving at him. He gaped at her, then began to frantically look around the houseboat again, even doing a spin to fully survey it but seeming disappointed at whatever he did or didn't find. He considered the paper in his hands, then set it down on top of whatever he'd been sitting on, setting his guitar on top of a portion of it like it were a massive paperweight. Having done that, he ran into the houseboat itself, to the point where she could no longer see him.

She frowned, not understanding what he was doing. Had...had he not liked it?

Letting her nerves overtake her, she sank down, gripping the bars hard while she fought herself in the prison of her own anxiety. Maybe he thought it was weird to get a message from a stranger? Or... maybe her hand writing wasn't neat enough. Maybe he was mad because she hadn't drawn the guitar accurately enough!

Before she could worry further, the boy returned to the deck, having brought things with him. He knelt down and started to set them down, Marinette squinting to try to see what they were.

Her eyes lit up with relief as she realized: he had brought markers and his own piece of paper.

Excitement coursing through her at the prospect of what was happening, she grabbed the railing and pulled herself up, carefully balancing herself on top of the railing while kneeling down. Her mother would never approve, but she couldn't hear their footsteps anyway and imagined they'd never know.

The boy finished whatever he was writing, then began to fold. Given the size of the paper he was using, she knew that it was going to be smaller than hers, but she didn't mind; it'd just be cuter, that's all.

He took the folded paper carefully in his hand, then looked up to her, at which point she wondered if he could really manage to fly the plane all the way up there. Nevertheless, he seemed determined, taking a few steps backwards with the paper airplane held high. Taking a breath, he then dashed forward, throwing the plane towards her.

The wind picked up again, this time in the opposite direction. Marinette leaned forward in awe, eyes sparkling as the paper airplane was flown her way, regardless of how many meters up she was in comparison to the boy. She gripped the railing for safety's sake to ensure that she wouldn't fall, but once the plane was within her reach, she couldn't help herself. The wind in her hair, she raised her arms, gripping the paper with both hands while being careful not to crush it.

Losing her balance, due to both the wind and her letting go of the railing, she fell back onto the balcony, though it wasn't anything painful compared to her usual clumsiness and she was far too happy to care. She sat up, trying not to rush while unfolding the paper in fear of tearing it somehow.

The message he'd written was simple, like hers, but it made her smile regardless.

Thanks. I like your drawings.

She beamed, then set the paper down and hopped back up on the stool to look at him over the railing. She waved at him, which he returned with his own and a happy smile on his face. Now unable to help herself, she got back down and returned to her sketchpad, humming the song he'd been playing earlier as she thought of what to write back.

Thus began their daily habit of sending paper airplanes to each other, favored by the wind and delivered successfully each time.

#lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #((In which the wind ships Lukanette.)) #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

[sootipie]

Elf King Oikawa and his warrior & husbando Iwaizumi.

If you ever want to understand how badly I procrastinate, I drew the sketch of this as part of my LotR au when I was living in New Zealand in 2018 and only finished colouring it for Oikawa’s (very late) birthday this week, three years later. RIP

(P.S. I know the background is glitchy but it’ll probably take me another three years before I sit down and fix that so I’m posting it now)

#I cri #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #iwaoi #seijoh #aobai josahi #haikyuu!! #happy birthday oikawa #lotr au #elf iwaoi #elven king #fan art #my art #hqart #digital art #I tried #colouring is hard #please do not repost without permission

[nightshade-minho]

Halloween Costumes (2) 

💀 Han

[ warnings: public, kind of fear kink but also not? fingering, light degradation ]

You barely noticed Jisung’s fingers sliding between your thighs, your heart still pounding in fear as the ride slowed down in the dark tunnel, the atmosphere eerily quiet.

That is, until you felt his fingers rubbing over your clit, clearly using the fact that you were wearing a skirt to his advantage. You looked up at Jisung’s face with a glare, covered in a ghostly sheen thanks to his make-up. Was it weird that you somehow found him hotter like this? 

“Jisung...this is not the t-time nor the place- fuck-”

He shook his head, leaning in to whisper into your ear. “I don’t agree, babe. You look so delectable dressed like that, how do you expect me to resist this?” He gave you a cheeky grin as he pulled away, his fingers deftly sliding your panties to the side. The rush of cold air made you bite your lip, your mind momentarily forgetting your fear.

However a jumpscare took place at the same time he slid his finger in, making you jolt and scream loudly, voice almost giving out.

Jisung grinned widely at your reaction, the ride starting to move at a fast pace once more. He decided to thrust his digits quicker, loving how your moans were mixed with screams, your heart beating fast. Your brain could barely make sense of all of the different sensations you were feeling.

Meanwhile the man sitting next to you laughed maniacally, grabbing your face to look at him as he pressed his lips to yours.

"Damn, you love this don't you, little slut?" He chuckled against your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth just as he inserted another finger.

He was right, you did. The adrenaline coursing through your veins was only serving to heighten the pleasure Jisung was giving you. He bit your bottom lip as he pulled away, crooking his fingers and fucking them into you roughly. His expression was a stark contrast to the sinful actions his fingers were carrying out down there, a wide smile decorating his face. 

Your orgasm was approaching quickly, and you bit your lip as you felt the beginnings of it spread outward over your entire body. 

The ride was coming to a halt, still speedily hurtling through the tunnel as it was about to reach its end. Soon, it began to slow down.

Jisung pulled his fingers out almost immediately, causing you to let out a pitiful whine, legs still quivering.

Your pussy was still throbbing, frustration filling you at the loss of your orgasm. You turned to Jisung with a frown, ready to berate him when he shut you up with a peck.

"Come on, baby." He held his hand out to you, helping you out of the ride as it stopped.

"If you're going to cum tonight, it will be on my cock."

💀 Felix

[ warnings: unprotected sex, fake gun play, marking kink, for some reason you thought it would be a good idea to wear a horse costume lmao ]

You were supposed to have been at a Halloween party by now. But no, here you were, getting absolutely wrecked by your boyfriend as he took you over the dining table. You knew you should have exhibited some self control...but as soon as you laid your eyes on him in his cowboy attire, gun strapped to his holster, his hair beautiful messed and sporting a jaunty hat - you knew the night would end with his cum in you.

"We're- fuck- going to be so late." You groaned, unable to breathe as Felix's solid length filled you up deliciously, your tight heat welcoming him in with every thrust.

"I don’t give a fuck, kitten. After all, this was how our night was going to end any way, right?"

"Our friends will be waiting for us." You managed to speak, your mouth dropping open as the sheer pleasure took over your weak body, your boyfriend’s aura piercing into you firmly.

"Let them fucking wait." He groaned, leaning down and molding his lips with yours. "I don't care if we're going to miss the party, baby. All I care about right now is your beautiful body, worn out and naked for me."

He slammed his hips into yours repeatedly, making sure his grip on your waist was tight enough to leave marks. Felix loved marking you up. The thought of everyone seeing you and immediately knowing you belonged to him turned him on beyond belief.

"You're mine." He hissed, his lips trailing down to nip just above your nipple, the action drawing out a surprised groan from you. "Mine mine mine mine."

He slowly drew out the fake gun from his holster, smirking as he pressed it above your clit. Your eyes widened impossibly large- your pussy tightening around him as a new wave of arousal gushed out of you.

Moving the top of the gun gently enough to stimulate you without having to hurt you, Felix leaned down to kiss your neck once more.

"You think a cowboy is sexy? Well, I guess I can agree. You know what isn't a good costume, though?"

He pointed to the shreds of fabric on the floor, your horse costume having had been ripped off by him. You followed his gaze, cheeks flushing. You honestly don’t know what you were thinking when you bought that.

"You wouldn't have looked good in that. Hell, no one can pull that shit off." He chuckled deeply, pressing his lips to yours again as you felt him brush against your sweet spot.

"I prefer you in your birthday suit, anyways.”

💀 Seungmin

[ warnings: slave kink, fingering ]

“Please.” You begged.

When you’d agreed to Seungmin’s idea, this wasn’t what you had expected. Sure, you’d thought. If he wanted to plan your activities for Halloween, why not?

And here you were now, completely tied up and naked as the day you were born. You rarely relinquished all your power to him in this manner, rarely let him do these things. He’d sat on the ornate armchair in the corner of your room, leg crossed over the other as he tapped his chin.

His attire was regal, too expensive and luxurious to even be considered a costume. The cherry on top was the opulent crown resting on his head. He really did look majestic, like a true king.

What did that make you?

“Please?” Seungmin scoffed, his lips spreading into a smirk as he glanced you up and down. “You could do a lot better than that, my baby. Can’t you?”

“I...I just-” You sobbed, your pussy throbbing with need. You wanted him inside you, now. Unfortunately, you’re in no place to order him around. No, that’s his job.

“Go on.” His eyes shone as he stood up, walking closer to the bed. “Tell me what you want.”

“I...” You swallowed, unable to hold yourself back. Shedding your dignity, you whimpered, looking up at him helplessly. “I need you so bad, Your Majesty. I want you to ruin me, fuck me until I can’t breathe, treat me like your slave. Cause th-that’s all I am.”

You scrunched your eyes shut, too nervous to see his expression. A few seconds of silence passed, before you felt his long fingers sliding up your folds. The touch you’d long craved made you jolt forward, a long whine leaving your lips. “P-please- more...”

He chuckled, finger poking at your entrance as he pet your head condescendingly. “Don’t worry, my little servant.”

His digits slid in all of a sudden, making you cry out, your eyes opening.

The sight in front of you almost made you wish you’d kept them closed. His lip was held between his teeth, as his eyes took in your entire form, his face closer to yours than you’d expected.

His lips brushed against the shell of your ear as he spoke, in time with a cruel thrust.

“I’ll make sure you serve your lord well.”

💀 I.N

[ warnings: fingering, unprotected sex, degradation ]

You could barely concentrate on mixing the batter, your eyes fluttering as you kept a tight grip on the wooden spoon. How could anyone expect you to think straight when your boyfriend's fingers were running through your swollen folds, collecting your juices and sucking on his digits right after?

You let out an embarrassed moan as Jeongin kissed the back of your neck, his hands spreading your butt cheeks to expose your heat to him clearly.

"God, you're such a dirty girl for me, you know?" He smirked, pressing himself up against you. "I really do love the taste of you right now, princess. Don't even bother dressing up, you look great like this...naked as you bake for me."

You whined and twisted your neck to look at him, pouting. Your boyfriend had gotten dressed way before you, and his costume was impeccably high-end, having borrowed it from an actual film studio. The party wasn't for hours, but you imagined he wanted to live in this fantasy for as long as he could.

You tried your best to focus on the pumpkin cupcakes you were making, your hand shivering. However it was proving to be extremely different, especially when Jeongin slid a finger inside, groaning at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around it.

"Fuck baby, I could take you right here and now.."

You struggled to formulate sentences as he pumped the lone finger in and out of you. "No..." you whimpered. "I have to finish these cupcakes for the party or Felix will kill me-"

"You can continue baking." He mumbled, and you heard a zipper being undone. A second later, his swollen head was pressed against your entrance teasingly, causing you to let out a sound halfway between a groan and whine.

Unable to deny him when he was so tantalizingly close, you nodded, hearing him breathe a sigh of relief as he pushed in all of a sudden, jolting you against the counter.

"Fuck-" You cried out, your hands gripping the edge as you dropped the spoon. There wasn't a point in trying, you'd just mess it up anyway. As if you could focus on something so mundane when your boyfriend was filling you up so deliciously.

He grinned as he saw you give up, pulling you out and lifting you up onto the counter just to slide back in.

You looked down at him and inhaled, panting as he fucked into you. Reaching a hand up, you gripped his horns for support, causing him to raise his eyebrows.

"Cute little girl, getting fucked by a demon. Bet you love this, my little slut.'

"I...do..." You glanced at your abandoned cupcakes momentarily, a tiny flash of guilt in your stomach.

Noticing your gaze, he gripped your chin and made you face him again,

"Oh, fuck the cupcakes. I'm sure you taste better than them anyway..." He kissed you full on the lips, bucking his hips intermittently. "God I fucking love Halloween..."

note: yeah this is kinda late. enjoy, tho <3

#jisung smut #han smut #felix smut #seungmin smut #skz smut #jeongin smut #i.n smut #stray kids smut

[stupid-stew]

i took notes on the art stream dana did tonight in my own way, yes this is also what my school notes look like so my formal apologies

dana didn’t have many friends or anything in college (self defined recluse)

king is the hardest character to draw due to his specific skull shape

dana loves pokemon and the king resemblance is a coincidence, and she drew everyone to be RIPPED

XENA THE WARRIOR PRINCESS WITH THE ABS LMAOOOO

young entrepreneur out here art queen getting that bag WHY WAS SHE MAKING SHIP ART OF HER CLASSMATES FOR MONEY AT THE AGE OF LIKE 11 IM SOBBING

king ruined the sand castle :(

the mcdonald’s coffe, it sucks apparently

insomnia dana supremacy, felt that

DANA WINS ROUND 1 (against her will)

side note i think i need to start watching more anime, that’s just for me the remember tho

“let’s get weird”- dana terrace 2021

“give us the most uncomfortable furby suggestions please”- also dana terrace 2021

FANFICTION JOURNALS CAN WE GET THOSE PUBLISHED

hard time communicating outside of drawings (one of us 👹)

toh is script driven, sicknasty

her test was turned away SPILL THE TEA

dana proposes to furby suggestion giving chat member

8months struggling for job

turned away from power puff girls boooo

“i called up a friend and we had a drink and i cried :(“ -dana

FURBY WITH HUMAN ANATOMY

YES YES YES MITCHELLS YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

the director had to fight to make the furby scene happen and sir we appreciate it

“androgyny is beautiful”- dana, about a furby

yes girl let jesus take the wheel on that anatomically correct furby

WHY WAS SHE TRYIKG TO TEACH HER FURBY DO CURSE THATS SO FUNNY

“fuck you! fuck you!”- not dana’s furby

$80,000 in debt for this

“shit shit fuck shit”

“as good friends, as disney would say”

dana trying not to lose her job

“AH GOD NO THE FEET THE FEET”

straight black coffee you psycho

DANA LOOSES TO THE CURSED FURBY

HAHAHA TINY NOSE IN THE SIGIL

cannot cook, girlboss, win dana with food

CATBOY SHREK

catchphrase? “AAAAAAAHHH”

scared of spiders

do not wake the cat

“is that a pile of garbage or is that ur self esteem after i fucking demolish you”

-dana terrace 2021

the iconic “byeeeee” was difficult

why can’t she draw shrek

“i need validation please jesus christ”

-dana terrace 2021

someone buy this woman the cat gamer headphones alex hurry up

she does not like the booth but she does it for us thank you queen

dana fainted getting a stick n poke rip

AWWW SHE GOT STEVE BLOOM THATS SO CUTE FOR HER

SHE DISLIKES FANTASY???? BOI WHAT THE HELL BOI

at least she’s having a good time making her own gross little fantasy land, improvise adapt overcome

dana unlocks the idea of things being done in different ways and have them all be good for the masses

“limitation breeds invention”

“wow ur really wise dana”

“….thanks dawg”

“well i didn’t have friends… no one laughed.”

i want the little comics of her pets

cat person dana

DANA WINS CATBOY SHREK

awww little stick and poke on her ankle

does not celebrate her birthday

OOOH THE HAMMERHEAD IS HER FIRST ONE I LOVE THAT ONE

#mood bunny

KERMIT ON STEROIDS

“how can we make this weird” GIRL IT IS KERMIT ON S T E R O I D S

HER LITTLE LAUGH IM SOBBING

this is literally psychological warfare

dana has not watched the muppets but she knows him drinking the tea so winning

DANA THE ANGST QUEEN LMAO

she’s proud about her making dipper and mable fight

DANA ANIMATED FOR NEXT WEEK MARK UR FREAKING CALENDARS

hooty is the owl house canon?

i wish the owl house was like a creature that would have been so funny

CAT APPEARS

season 2 is outline heavy when it comes to the writing

dana knows what she wants for season 2 and we love that

execs up the wall on season 1

DANA LOSES MUSCLE KERMIT

dana has not found the character porn! keep it up girl! stay over there!

oooh bike queen

SWING DANCE OH MY GOD

TAP DANCING

THIS WOMAN IS AN ICON I LOVE HERRRR

yes get that energy out girl

ddr stan, loses to matt braly at gravity falls team bowling hang out

cat is sad :( give her a snack :(

AWW GHOST HAS ASTHMA omg kinnie moment

conspiracy theory enthusiast when intoxicated

vaccination queen

does not believe in ghosts, kill me girl i’ll haunt you don’t worry i’ll prove it

DOG WORKING IN A CAFE

“the ow house get ready to get some boo boo”- this other guy because it made me cry

“you’re gonna have to pay me to write shit because i don’t work for free”

not a music person

DO A FLIP

dana do a flip for charity please i’ll donate like an organ or something

she can canonically do a flip and she’s not gonna show us this is homophobic

AH FUCK MY STREAM CUT OUT

her neighbor is parking yes get it

draw left hand

while holding pen wack

do it in online version of ms paint

“MS pain”- dana not finishing her word

and stick and poke

show us the work stuff dana >:(

an ARTIST

“he’s a strong independent dog”

“4 minutes 20 seconds 😏 h e h e h e”

WHY CANT WE SEE HER HEADBANG THIS IS SO RUDE

not the muscle pulling girl not now

“also dog”

CHAMPION DANA

IMAGINE DANA CALLING UR ART CUTE

H E L P THE FURBYS I CSNOT

ghost gets rejected

“he’s not impressed with ur bullshit”

catra shrek fan girl moment

dana has probably done drugs

“i am a fan of waluigi”

AN ITALIAN POLITICIAN SMACK TALKING THE OWL HOUSE LMAOSJB

note to self dana will only marry you if you look like kermit the frog

also dog comes from a land where dogs eat people at starbucks

LOWES AD

“he’s making out with it! he’s using tongue!”

there are bouncers in cafes where also dog comes from

dana has worked the cash register

someone make real witch merchandise

Q AND A YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

hooty is he has a very he has more he has a backstory it exists it’s written out but we might not ever get it because it’s just for her dana please i am on my knees

would play dnd if she could

favorite episodes haven’t even aired but currently is echoes of the past or keeping up a fear ances because they’re personal especially a fear ances

TOO LATE FOR EXTENDED SEASON THREE BOARDING HAS STARTED IM GOING TO CRY

SPIN-OFFS SHORTS AND COMICS STILL ALLOWED IM LITERALLY DEAD ON THE INSIDE

mentally she is thriving with the show and it’s going to end well 🙏

“it’s just my voice :(“

BYEEEEEEE

#the owl house #dana terrace

[morgana-ren]

My Little Omega

This piece was a birthday commission for the lovely @aizawascumslut​ ! Thank you so much and I really hope you enjoy it! I’m so so sorry it was a little bit late, life has b l o w n lately, but I did make it almost 3,000 words for you!

It is NSFT with A/B/O dynamics, and this is my first time taking a crack at any of that (just kidding NSFT is my specialty) but really, I’ve never done A/B/O before so hopefully I didn’t fuck that up too badly.

Shigaraki really wants to make your birthday as memorable as he can and give you a very special gift that only he can give you.

Shigaraki was never good with birthdays.

Growing up, a fuss was never made about his own, and he had very few people in his life he considered important enough to care. He would get the occasional ‘Happy birthday, young Tomura’ from Master, but even that waned as his age progressed. It was just another day to track his progress; how far he’d come and how much further he needed to go.

He knew that people on the outside had a very different idea. It was a day of celebration, where the person of honor had well wishes and last minute presents thrust into their lap, celebrating that they were born and every subsequent year they’ve been alive. The entire thing seemed asinine to him; what’s the point of cheering for your own existence for doing something as basic as simply being alive?

He didn’t understand it. It made no sense, and frankly, he didn’t care about it in the slightest.

At least until he met you.

You were the one person who he was happy was actually born, one of the few he didn’t hate or ignore entirely, and suddenly he began to grasp why others would throw parties and give gifts to the ones they appreciated and loved. Birthdays had meant nothing because the people around him meant nothing, but that wasn’t the case anymore.

Still, lifelong ignorance of the tradition had led him into a rather awkward situation.

He had no idea what to get you for yours.

It was coming up rapidly, and days fell off the calendar with his constant mental mantra of ‘I’ll deal with it later’, despite the fact that he could never come up with anything that he found to be worthy. Naturally, he had thought of the old standbys like flowers, or chocolate or some generic bullshit that the rest of the waking world uses when they’ve run out of original ideas, but it never felt right. His relationship to you was special. It deserved more than some half-assed and unimaginative throwaway token of love. If he was going to go to the trouble of gifting you something, he wanted it to mean something; both to him and to you.

Time drew on and he got precariously close to the deadline before something finally jumped out at him. It wasn’t until the morning of your birthday that he found the perfect gift to celebrate you and your presence in his life. It dawned on him as he was roused from his sleep earlier than normal by your clawing, needy fingers grasping at him, sweat beading slightly on your forehead. You were whimpering, still passed out but clearly in a state of discomfort. If your body language didn’t clue him in, the overwhelming scent that coats both your body and sheets and stirs his cock certainly did.

Your heat.

It was upon you.

Your sleepless eyes open and focus on him with blown out pupils, face crinkling in pain and realization as he drags himself off the bed. He looks at your cutely pathetic expression and hates how much it rouses him. The desire building at the base of his spine is already conflicting with his daily responsibilities. There was so much he had to tend to today, important things he needed to manage, but his every instinct screams at him to curl over you on the bed, press your legs deep into your chest and knot his little Omega until-

Oh.

And just like that, he knew. He knew exactly what he would give you.

Forcing his primal brain to ignore the irresistible scent you’re producing that’s cloying down his nostrils, he gives you a reluctant goodbye, poorly masked with irritation and stress. His tone is harsh and stern as he tells you to quit being so needy and he needs to go, he has stuff to do. He knows you can’t help it, but seeing you in this state is making it even harder for him to leave and focus on anything but breeding you. He needs to be able to focus and maintain his responsibilities and army, but hard doesn’t even begin to describe it when you slip from beneath the bed sheets, slick already coating the inside of your thighs and dampening the front of your sleep shorts. Fuck, he can smell you, perfect and ripe for breeding and remarking.

Still, he can’t let lust cloud his judgment right now, even though as your alpha, it’s deeply wired into his brain to mate and protect you. He knows he’s leaving you alone and vulnerable, possibly open to attack from another alpha despite his mark deeply etched into your neck. Anyone would be stupid to try, knowing he’d rip them apart with his bare hands, but he still hates the fact he has to leave you. It goes against his every instinct, each painful step of his body echoed by a desperate call of his name or the breathless sigh of ‘alpha’, your own submissive and primal needs overtaking your rational brain.

He’ll finish his business, and quickly. He needed to be here with his omega. It was her birthday, after all.

But as the day dragged on, minutes turn into hours and his own skin begins to itch and crawl. His head screaming and demanding that he return to you, muscles twitching in his legs as he almost pushes himself from the chair against his own will. Needless conversations and endless procession of things he could care less for are occupying his attention; attention that should be nowhere but you. He can practically smell you from across the base. Your scent mixed with his, palpable and tangy in the air. It’s distracting. His cock twitches and he can feel his rut coming.

He needs to get out. Now.

He needs to get to you.

Meeting be damned, he leaves mid sentence. No one is foolish enough to question.

Everyone knows the scent of an Alpha yearning for his mate, and even if they didn’t, they certainly knew the smell of an Omega in a fresh heat.

He practically kicks open the door to his apartments, finding you restlessly curled into a newly made nest of his blankets and sheets, burrowing deep into his scent. You’re whimpering and desperate, hunched over from the pain and head swimming with nothing but thoughts of his knot and his pups. Hypersensitive to his pungent smell already, your attentions are turned toward the door even before he manages to enter. Your slick still visible between your quivering thighs, clutching and trembling as you waste no time pleading for him, his name slurred and urgent on your lips.

“Please- Please… Shigaraki- Alpha!”

You crane your neck for him, already branded and scarred where his jagged teeth initially made contact with the muscle. You reek of his own scent entwined with yours, equally familiar and intoxicating. The way you weakly beg for him, hurting in a way that he and he alone can soothe drives him into a frenzy, every muscle twitching, eager to pounce on his pretty little Omega.

“You want me to take you, don’t you?  Needy little bitch in heat.”

He shrugs his coat off onto the floor, overtaken with lust and moving on pure instinct towards you. You can feel it, the raw, dominating scent practically radiating from him. Quickly, you gather onto your hands and knees and push your ass in the air, prostrating yourself before him. Your hips wiggle desperately, and he chuckles at your lack of shame, too blinded by need for him to find any sense of composure.

He likes it when you present yourself for him, all wet and urgent and craving his touch, and right now, there’s nothing you want more. You want him to fill you and make you whole, cum inside you again and again and give you what you need the most.

“You want my knot? Want me to fill you up with my cum and give you my pups?”

An incoherent cry escapes your throat as you practically fall to the floor, limbs scraping along the ground as you try to quell the pain in your body that’s spreading like fire throughout your limbs and becoming more and more unbearable. Tears bead in your eyes and he can tell it’s hurting you even more than he can truly perceive. His rut began less than an hour ago but already it’s building to unimaginable levels.

You’ve been such a good girl; So strong all day. You need him now, and he needs you, and he’s done waiting. All For One himself couldn’t claw him away from you. He’d rather die.

He inhales a deep breath, taking in your overwhelming scent and holding it in his lungs. Had he not marked you, every alpha within miles would be trekking here, crusading to claim you. You had always been so sweet, so overpowering in the saccharine smell that permeated off of you and onto everything around you.  

But you’re his.

His.

And he’ll kill anyone who even fucking dares to get near you. He’ll rip them to shreds and there will be nothing left but a puddle of gruel.

His own animalistic instincts take over, growling from the low of his throat as he threads his fingers through your hair and yanks you backwards.

“Mine. You’re mine.” He nibbles on your exposed throat, teasing you on top of the mark he’s already gifted you. His thick cock prods on your backside and the needy whine that emanates from your throat doesn’t escape him.

“For your birthday, I’m going to fill you with my cum and knot you, make your belly all swollen and perfect. I’m going to fill you with my pups. You want that, don’t you?”

You nod feverishly, unable to muster anything but an incoherent babble as your neck strains in his grip, your clumsy fingers fumbling with the waist of your sodden shorts. They stick to your soiled legs, refusing to slide down with anything but a frustrated yank. He chuckles at your desperation despite the last semblance of self-control he has being discarded with your ruined clothing.

“On your back. Now.”

You whimper at his authoritative voice, unable to disobey the commanding voice of your alpha. He releases your hair long enough for you to quickly flip yourself over and fall to the floor, spreading your legs open for him. Lithe fingers make quick work of the buttons on his pants and before long, he’s crawling half of the way on top of you with his boxers pulled down over the thick of his thighs.

“Good girl,” His palm crawls up your legs, stopping just short of where you need it most. Your body twitches and you wail, trying to wiggle into his touch. Slick pools on his hand as he drags the pads along the inside of your thigh, lips slacking slightly as he watches your thigh muscles twitch hungrily at his ministrations. He’s barely even touched you but you’re practically sobbing, tears running down your cheeks as you stammer out his name over and over. 

His cock jumps watching you worm around, body glistening with sweat and need, looking up at him through watery lashes and glazed eyes as if he’s the only thing in the world you’ll ever need. It’s enough to send him over the edge, pushing forward on his knees so he looms over you entirely. 

“You’re going to be a good little omega and take my cock now, right?” He taps your core with his hot, thick length. “You’re going to let me re-mark you and fill your belly with my pups?” “Yes, please-“ You nod enthusiastically, shimmying your lower body to try and entice him. “Please mate me, alpha!”

He aligns with your entrance, using the last bit of his strength to hold off ramming into you before he makes you beg. “My cute little bitch in heat. You want me to breed you? Knot you over and over and make your body take my seed?” “Yes!” He anchors his elbows beneath your knees, pressing your legs up into your chest, finally letting himself sink into you. The slick sound that echoes into your ears is just flat out embarrassing but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your head back, moaning loudly as he fills you up to the hilt. Finally, his chest comes flush with the back of your legs, bottoming out inside you. His lips brush against yours as he pecks you softly at first, but then more and more ravenous and greedy. He hisses between sloppy, open mouthed kisses, muttering and cursing into your own mouth.

“My omega! Mine, mine!” 

He pulls out only to thrust all the way back in, burying himself inside you once more before he begins his brutal rhythm, betraying just how needy he is for you as well. Your body bounces helplessly on his cock as you keen and cling to him for purchase, steadying yourself on his shoulders. 

You think he’s coming to devour you again but his lips find your marked neck, digging his teeth into the brand over and over again as he rocks powerfully into you until you’re certain that you have no scent left of your own. You don’t mind, you don’t care, you’ll stay in this home forever and raise his pups.

“Yours! Only yours!” 

He groans against your neck and withdraws, bringing his head up to you again. Beckoning him closer, you throw your arms around him and tighten your grip around his neck until he’s forehead to forehead with you. He’s drooling slightly, face turning red with exertion as he repeatedly cants his hips against your dripping pussy over and over again. He finds the wherewithal to kiss you, tongue slipping past your lips and exploring your mouth frantically. You can feel him try to say something but between the molding of your mouths and the pleasure sparking and coiling in your abdomen, you can’t make it out. 

Panting and heaving chests collide between the joining of slippery, sweaty bodies and the punishing pistoning of his hips bruises you as he practically fucks you into the floor. The loud wailing of your wanton moans and his animalistic growls echo off the bedroom walls. The slapping of flesh on flesh joins the cacophony and it all comes together to heighten your pleasure and stimulate you even further. Your beloved alpha, he’s going to fill you soon. He’s going to knot you and breed you over and over until you’re mothering his pups. 

“My good- ah- good little omega. You’re going to be such a great mother-“ His staccato thrusts become slightly more erratic, losing their rhythm ever so slightly, and if you could focus between the twitching of your cunt and the blinding orgasm growing in your gut, you could tell he’s getting close. “I-I can’t wait to watch your belly swell. Your tits will grow nice and fat with milk and- fuck!” 

His moans become breathier and higher pitched, heaving them into your ear. Your own release is nearing soon, every nudge of his pelvic bone against your clit taking you higher and higher to the top. Your pussy pulses with his filthy words, toes flexing and your fingers tensing in his hair, urging him forward. 

“Shigaraki, please-!” 

Your eyes meet for a brief second, his heavy scarlet ones staring glassy and blown out into yours. Your back arches off the floor and his teeth clamp down on the rounds of your neck where your mark is once more, sinking deep into the pliant flesh and claiming you a final time before you feel his cock twitch and with a drawn out and uneven howl, he empties himself inside you. 

With the warm sensation of his white, sticky cum filling your womb and his broken and breathless admissions of pleasure, you find yourself pushed over the edge as well. Your walls flutter and contract around him, squeezing and milking him as he scratches at the floor beneath you in a blinding and borderline overstimulated euphoria. Your entire body convulses and shakes beneath him, face contorting and uncontrolled sobs of bliss exhaling from your chest, slowly turning into fractured little wails and gasping.

When you finally come to, he’s releasing your legs from his hold and gently lowering them to the floor, still laying atop you as his knot plugs you and prevents the loads of cum from escaping. His tender finger brushes your cheek, kissing you softly with a few gentle pecks. You can feel your heat subside, if only temporarily, but you know it’s likely not going away. Heats are never so kind, and it’s only a matter of time until he has to leave again. The thought fills you with panic and your heart begins to race.

You look to him as if to say something, but he just presses his lips to yours once more.

“I know, little omega.” One of his large hands comes down to stroke your belly, feeling the pressure from the seed currently plugged deep into your womb while the other keeps stroking your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s my omega’s birthday, after all, and I want it to be special. I don’t care how long it takes.”

#Shigaraki x reader #nsft #Shigaraki Tomura #My Commissions #I'm so sorry it was a little late #I really hope you like it #This is so much softer than I usually write lmao

[slasherwife]

Stoic face reader is so awesome! Could you do a tidbit of mikey sneaking into houses and offing people, and sneaking into one to find a super stoic person waiting on their dinner to finish cooking while eating candy, and offer him some?

“Candy”

MichaelMyersxReader

Michael Myers, broken out of asylum, is INCREDIBLY hungry. Lucky for him, Y/n just finished some slow-cooked soup and offers him some when he breaks into her home! warnings: slight violence and cussing!

“Um, Sir, kill me if you must but that crisp twenty you took from the key tray is mine.”

Michael craned his head in absolute awe and confusion, for the fifth time this evening, to the person he had tied up hours ago. Not once did she resist or scream or seem even remotely scared.

“I was going to offer you candy when you showed up but now I’m late for my theatre session— and lucky for you I hold grudges.”

Michael wanted them to shut the fuck up but at the same time he never got a victim so talkative and he wanted to hear more. It was almost amusing.

Also, did they mention candy? Michael stood up, eyes on them the entire time as he walked over to the woman sitting on a chair with her hands tied. He grabbed their hair,

“Ow.” He stared into their orbs with obvious want, until she decided to break the silence.

“What. Do you. Want?” She spat through her teeth.

Michael licked his lips and blinked. His mouth made the movements, and she could barely understand him. When she did, her eyes narrowed, and her expression turned spiteful.

“I’ll take that secret to my gr—OW fuck!”

• one hour earlier •

It was a calm October evening. The sun was just making its way under the horizon, and Y/n sighed in satisfaction. Today was an amazing day. She had just gotten the promotion she worked so hard for, and she didn’t encounter any assholes today. She had such a positive outlook that it was nearly impossible for anyone to change it. For today, at least.

She decided to take up a new recipe in her slow cooker— it was a long process but she knew it would be worth the wait with how delicious it looked! A perfect meal before she went to her theatre tonight!

It would be even more perfect with the box of candy she had stashed from last year’s Halloween. Probably stale, but maybe not! She just loves candy, it would take a lot for her to share— but hey! No one decided to be rude today so maybe she would be generous.

She went to the pantry and found the bag stuffed in the corner, and before she could reach and pull it out, there was a thud from her front porch. It was like the neighborhood cat had gotten into one of her plants incidently, and Y/n huffed in irritation. As much as the loved Petey, he couldn’t stop knocking over her chives.

She pulled her hand away from the bag and marched to the front door, yanking it open. Coincidently, not even a spot was left even near her plant collection. The chives remained untouched, the night breeze moving through the pines, and the darkness almost fully-fallen over Haddonfield.

Y/n shook her head with a smile, and went back into her house thoughtfully, swinging the door shut happily. At least her chives weren’t hurt. She didn’t really care for the noise. Maybe a squirrel fell out of a tree— SHE doesn’t know! Who cares?

Well she started to care a little bit when a 6’7 man with a mask on was standing over her slow cooker with obvious hunger in his eyes.

“It’ll be ready in a few minutes.” Y/n said, grabbing a spoon from her utensil box and walking over the the pot. The man turned slowly but surely, over to look at her with eyes that swirled with thoughts. Y/n thought it was peculiar.

He didn’t even move when Y/n opened the pot and the steam billowed out like a fire, into both of their faces.

“Smells so nice,” she mumbled to herself, and the man tried searching her face for anything— anything at all but her face was a blank page. It was like staring into a void.

After she was done working on it, she turned to him, “Oh! I have some c—“ Michael covered her mouth with his large hand, and dragged her away with her brow furrowed like she was confused as she dropped the spoon and tried to reach back for it but it was out of reach. Then she got this incredibly irritated look on her face and she just sighed and glared at the man the entire time as he tied her up harsher than she would have liked.

Michael then was looking around, observing his surroundings and the features of her home when something caught his eye. Who just leaves money lying around? He thinks. He walked into the hallway near the front door where her key tray was, and plucked a crisp twenty out of the ceramic tray.

“Excuse me? Hi, that’s my Birthday money sir.” Michael stuffed it into one of his pockets silently as he walked back into the kitchen.

“Can you please put that back?” She yelled, face turning red in anger as she fought against the ropes at her wrists.

Michael then was drawn back to her chair where he was afraid she would break free, so he tightened them and added some more ropes to her ankles so she wouldn’t stand up. She was kinda tiny anyway, so he wasn’t too worried.

“Well you know how to treat a girl.” She mumbled, breaking the 5-minute long silence and Michael just stood up with the most perplexed look on his face and walked away so he could enjoy her dinner in peace.

“I told you already that’s not done cooking—“ Michael lifted the lid and started eating out of it with the spoon she dropped.

“Um, that was on the fl— okay.”

Michael slurped from the spoon, and a deep rumbling sound of approval was heard from across the room. Y/n sighed, wishing she could have some herself but these ropes were kind of tight.

At the sound he made, he looked up in embarrassment, looking for any look of judgement on her face so he could kill her— but she just stared at the wall stoically.

Michael literally ate almost the entire pot. He ate until he wasn’t hungry anymore, and dropped the spoon in satisfaction. He sighed. That was all he wanted, a nice meal— all the other houses didn’t have good food so he killed them off and went to the next house. This one takes the cake for sure, though.

Another noise came from across the room, it was her. Again. A pang of annoyance rang through Michael, and he looked up, studying her. She was humming something. Wait, what is that.. melody? Is that... Metallica?

Unbelievable. Michael craned his neck for the fourth time that night in awe of the indifference that she showed him this entire night. All he had to do was tie her up and eat and it was literally that simple. No “catch-me-if-you-can” bullshit he gets from the usual victims, no “let-me-slam-my-door-on-your-fucking-foot-and-scream-like-a-banshee” games— she was literally a piece of cake easy and that made this night 10 times better than usual.

Except sometimes she wouldn’t shut up. Michael grunted, something that seemed to swallow Y/n whole— before she spoke up again.

“What else am I supposed to do?” She asked expectantly. Michael just stared at her. That’s when Y/n remembered her birthday money when she saw the twenty sticking out of his pocket.

“Oh yeah— Um, Sir, kill me if you must but that crisp twenty you took from the key tray is mine.”

• Present time •

“OW fuck!” She exclaimed as Michael’s grip drew tighter, a fraction away from ripping it from the roots— and Y/n’s eyes squeezed shut from the pain.

“Okay! I’ll tell you where it is!” Michael’s grip loosened barely to even consider it loosened, and Y/n looked up at him with calculating eyes. These eyes were different from before. They were, sharp. They were sharp as razors, and they seemed to cut right through Michael. It challenged his own gaze. A pleasant tingle washed through him, but it disappated at the sound of her voice.

“If I tell you where it is, you have to bring me back my cigarettes. Deal?” She spoke unwaveringly, staring into his soul, daring him to break the deal. Michael blinked, then nodded.

“Okay good. The cigarrettes are in the drawer right there. The candy is in the pantry in the bag.” She cast a sideways glance to the kitchen, and Michael examined her, trying to read any lies on her face before letting go. She let out a huge sigh, wishing she could rub the crown of her head in relief.

Michael passed the drawer, and went straight for the pantry, almost immediately finding the bag and ripping it open, candy spilling everywhere as he cherry picked his favorites.

He then took the bag, walked over with his eyes locked the entire time with her gaze, and passed the drawer. He then plopped down on the couch and started eating his candy silently.

“What did I fucking expect.” She mumbled quietly to herself, shaking her head at the man who ate her stale Halloween candy without her on the couch, completely contented.

I hope you liked it!! 💕

jena marie

#michael x reader #michael #michael myers imagine #michael myers #michael myers x reader #i made a thing #ask #slasher imagines #slashers #slasher fic #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #rz michael myers imagine #rz michael myers x reader #rz michael myers

[seven-homosexual-dinosaurs]

Say you won’t let go

My first song fic, let’s see how this goes :)

(Or rather, a one shot based very loosely around a song that at this point might not even be a song fic)

Based off the song “Say you won’t let go” by James Arthur (obviously)

Cathy had met Anne on a cool autumn night, standing in the corner alone at some party Thomas had convinced her to attend. Long abandoned by the latter, she scrolled through her phone absentmindedly. People danced and drank around her, the sound of bad decisions in the making filling her ears.

She’d looked up from her phone, only to come face to face with a girl about her age. Glossy, chocolate brown hair fell past her shoulders to rest on her lower back. Piercing emerald eyes gazed at Cathy nervously, a tint of pink staining her cheeks as her hands scratched at the back of her neck nervously. She wore a dark grey jacket over a deep green crop top, as well as a pair of ripped skinny jeans.

Cathy took a moment to collect herself, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

“Hi,”

Cathy smiled at the girl awkwardly. The girl brightened slightly at that, flashing her a brilliant smile.

“Hey,” she greeted, “I couldn’t help but notice you were looking kinda lonely over here and I think you look really pretty and sorry I just kind of blurted that out for no reason but doyouwannadancewithme?”

Cathy blinked at her blankly, taking a moment to process her words. As soon as they fully sank in, she felt a bright blush creeping along her face. She had half a mind to refute the offer, to remind herself she already had a boyfriend. Yet what harm could one dance do? Besides, it wasn’t like it would really do anything, right?

“Yeah!” she answered finally, a dorky smile spreading across her face, “Yeah, I’d like that,”

The mysterious stranger led her onto the dance floor, an excited grin overtaking her face. They swayed to the music gently, and despite her previously unsavory mood, she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her as the stranger twirled her around, singing along to the music joyfully. 

“I didn’t catch your name?” 

The stranger winked at her mischievously.

“Anne Boleyn, at your service,”

The music slowed, as did their dancing. Swaying to the music slowly, Anne rested her head on Cathy’s shoulder.

“And what about you, pretty-stranger-I-met-at-a-party?”

Cathy blushed at the description, her heart quickening. 

“Parr. Catherine Parr, but everyone just calls me Cathy,” She answered.

“Cathy,” Anne’s lips twitched into a smile. “I like it, it’s a nice name,”

“Thanks, I got it for my birthday,” Cathy deadpanned. Anne laughed, the noise sounding like heaven to Cathy’s ears. 

“Well Cathy,” Anne began playfully, “what’s a pretty lady like you doing in a shithole like this?”

“You flatter me,” Cathy answered blankly, despite the growing blush spreading across her face. Anne grinned at her response, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“...Well?” Anne asked, curiosity seeping into her voice. Cathy laughed awkwardly, carefully avoiding Anne’s gaze.

“Well my boyfriend kind of dragged me here,” She answered. Anne’s smile dimmed slightly at that, although it was back at full force as soon as it was gone. 

“Really? Who’s the lucky guy?” She inquired. Cathy cleared her throat uncomfortably, preparing for what was to come.

“Thomas. Thomas Seymour,”

She waited for the inevitable “Really?” or “You’re so lucky!” that always came whenever someone learnt of their relationship. It was getting annoying, really. She already had enough of her family telling her of how lucky she was to date a man like Thomas, she didn’t need to add more people to the mix.

Anne did none of those things. Instead, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. Not a good reaction, but having some variety was nice.

“Thomas? I know that guy, he’s kind of a dick,”

Cathy frowned.

“Hey, I know he can come off as unpleasant at times, but he’s really a good guy at heart,” Cathy countered. Anne grimaced doubtfully.

“No, really, I’m serious. I’m friends with his sister, he’s a real piece of work,”

Cathy rubbed her shoulder uncomfortably, stepping away from the Boleyn girl apprehensively. 

“Yeah, well, I should probably go find him anyways. It’s getting late, so...”

Not waiting for an answer, she took off. She heard Anne yell something behind her, but she ignored it, choosing to weave her way through the crowd instead. What did she care what some stranger thought of her relationship, it’s not like it mattered anyways. It’s not like the fact that Thomas never told her he had a sister bothered her, everyone has their secrets.

“Tom? Thomas?” she called, ignoring the growing feeling of dread in her chest. Walking over past the kitchen, she finally found what she was looking for. Well, sort of.

Thomas sat on the worn couch, chatting excitedly with a girl Cathy recognized as her old friend Bethany. His hand rested on her waist, pulling her close to him as he pecked her lips, prompting a laugh from the latter. He cupped her cheeks gently, pulling her in for another kiss.

Cathy felt cold, a numb feeling overcoming her. 

“Thomas?” Her voice sounded distant to her ears, as if spoken by another person. He didn’t respond, Cathy felt as if she couldn’t breath. She ran from the room, she needed to get away from here. From everything. her feet carried her blindly, sweat gathering on her brow as an ill feeling settled in her stomach. 

Coming to a stop, she looked around to see where her feet had carried her.

She appeared to be in some kind on park, littered with all kinds of trees. Stars twinkled in the night sky, illuminating the empty park. Leaning against a tree, she lurched forwards to throw up, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

Retching heavily, she jumped as felt a hand pull her hair out of her face. Anne Boleyn gazed at her, worry evident in her eyes.

“You alright mate?” she asked sympathetically. Cathy wanted to say yes, to tell her to go away and leave her alone. She wanted to pretend she was fine, to go back over to the party and fall into Thomas’ arms.

Oh god, Thomas....

She gagged, spewing the contents of her stomach violently. She felt Anne rubbing circles in her back, whispering quiet reassurances in her ear. Feeling her nausea subside slightly, she fell limp in Anne’s arms.

“What happened?” she asked gently. Cathy paused spitting some leftover bile from her mouth.

“You were right about Thomas, he... he...!”

Cathy couldn’t finish. It was as if saying the words would make them come true, she’d be forced to accept what had transpired before her very eyes. Anne pulled the taller girl into a tight hug, wiping her tears away gently with her thumb.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she whispered softly. Cathy sniffled quietly, hiding her face in the crook of Anne’s neck. 

“I don’t know why you’re even putting up with my shit anyways,” she choked out, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “You barely know me, why’re you even helping?”

Anne frowned at her, pulling her close.

“Hey, none of that, okay? Even if I don’t know you that well, I can’t just let you go through this alone”

“Besides,” her face blushed a bright red and she looked down at her feet “I kind of know you. You have Miss Greene for linguistics, right?”

Cathy looked up at Anne in surprise.

“Yeah, how-”

“We’re in the same class. You’re the girl in the blue hoodie that always has a coffee with her,”

Cathy nodded slowly, taking a moment to process the information. Rubbing the wetness out of her eyes, she looked Anne over once more, attempting to match the Boleyn girl to her memory.

“Sorry I didn’t recognize you,” she mumbled numbly. Anne waved her hand dismissively, shrugging her apology off. 

“It’s fine, you look in a world of your own most days and we’ve never talked. I wouldn’t expect you to recognize me anyways,”

Cathy nodded in understanding.

“Wait...” she began slowly, “If that’s the case, then how come you recognize me?”

Anne blushed, carefully avoiding Cathy’s gaze.

“No particular reason. You mentioned Thomas earlier, right? What happened?” 

Cathy hesitated, looking away from Anne.

“Nothing important, I’m sure I just need to talk to him,”

Anne eyed her doubtfully, and Cathy felt a twinge of anger. She just had to talk to him, she was sure there was something to the story she was missing. There had to be.

Look, I’m going back to talk to him, whether you like it or not. You can stay here if you want, but I’m going,”

Turning away from Anne, she startled as she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. Emerald eyes gazed at her (albeit worriedly), grim determination set into her face.

“No, I’ll come,”

The night was windy, Cathy realized as she drew her arms around her with a shudder. Dead leaves fluttered through the air around her, crinkling and breaking in the cool autumn breeze. The yellow glow of the street lamps illuminated the empty street, flickering and flashing in the night. It was really quite beautiful, Cathy noted. There was something otherworldly about it, how the gentle breeze swayed the leaves in the trees, the little group’s footsteps echoing on the pavement.

She knew they’d reached the house before even laying eyes on it. Music blared through the windows, the reek of alcohol and sweat tainting the air even as they stood in the driveway. Ignoring the worried glance Anne sent her way, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Cathy had no trouble locating Thomas, something which came both as a disappointment and a relief. Said relief was rapidly quelled as her eyes locked onto Thomas. The situation hadn’t de-escalated, rather, it appeared far worse than before. 

“Cathy? Did you- oh,” Anne faced shifted into a scowl as she took in the scene before her. She glowered at Thomas, muttering curses under her breath as Cathy felt tears gather in her eyes. She didn’t know why she thought it would have changed. She didn’t know why she thought it would have been different.

“-athy? Cathy?” Anne’s voice jolted her from her reverie. Her voice was laced with concern, although her eyes held nothing but contempt for the man before her. Taking in Cathy’s dazed expression, Anne shrugged her jacket off, placing it gingerly around Cathy’s shoulders.

“Here, keep an eye on this for me, will you? I’ll handle good ‘ol shithead over there,”

Cathy nodded numbly, pale knuckles gripping the jacket tightly. Sending one last glance towards Cathy, Anne set off towards Thomas, grim determination set into her face.

Meeting eyes with the Boleyn girl, her gave smiled at her charmingly. Resisting the urge to gag, Anne answered his smile with a sickly sweet smile of her own. Gesturing to Bethany, still in his arms, she spoke.

“Hey, don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“That ol’ gal? She doesn’t have to know,” he winked. 

“Really now?” Anne hissed through grit teeth, “You really are exactly how Jane described you and more,”

“Jane?” he asked, looking around the room. It was then, it appeared, that he finally noticed the frozen Parr at the entrance. Jumping up, he shoved Bethany off of him unceremoniously.

“Cathy!” he yelped. Cathy fixed him with an icy glare.

“That’s “Catherine” to you Thomas,” she hissed. Stumbling towards her, Thomas froze as Anne stepped before Cathy protectively. 

“I wouldn’t suggest coming any closer unless you wanna learn just how much damage these heels can do,” she threatened. Thomas paled, tripping over himself as he hurried to get away from the seething Boleyn girl. The rev of a car engine outside informed the two of his departure.

Turning to Cathy, Anne regarded her carefully.

“You alright mate? That can’t have been easy”

Cathy shrugged nonchalantly. Truth be told, she didn’t know. She felt angry and heartbroken, relieved and confused. Anne frowned, rubbing her neck in thought. Suddenly, a smile spread across her lips.

“Well then, I think I might have something to cheer you up,” 

Extending an arm to Cathy, she offered the girl a dorky grin.

“We never did finish our dance, did we?”

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

Anne awoke slowly, squinting in the harsh sunlight. Looking around, she smiled as her eyes landed on the slumbering Cathy beside her. She snored lightly, hugging a pillow tightly to her chest. Most days, Cathy would be up an awake at the crack of dawn, making breakfast and getting ready for the day. Today, however, proved different. A nasty bout of the flu had ravaged the house for a week, and Cathy proved to be it’s biggest victim. Even as she made a speedy recovery, her energy remained quite low, as proven by her slumbering figure.

Anne smiled as the door creaked open, two little figures padding into the room quietly. A freckled face peeked over the bed as Elizabeth Boleyn-Parr looked over to her mom with wide eyes.

“Hi mama,” she whispered, swinging her little body onto the bed and crawling into Anne’s arms. A little whine came from the side of the bed, a mess of black curls peeping over the bedside. Holding Liz with one arm, Anne lifted Mae off the ground onto her lap. Mae crawled over to Cathy, poking her cheek with a grubby finger.

“Mommy?” she asked curiously. Planting a kiss to her forehead, Anne smiled at her gently.

“Use your words baby,” she encouraged. Mae looked over to Cathy once more, placing a little hand on her cheek.

“I want mommy,” she whispered. Anne smiled proudly, gently prying Mae’s hands away from the sleeping Parr.

“Mommy’s sleeping right now, but she’ll be awake later,”

Mae pouted, shaking Cathy’s shoulders sadly. Crawling over to her sister, Liz grabbed her hands and pulled them away from their mom.

“Mae, stop! Mommy needs to sleep!” She whispered urgently. Mae whined, sticking her thumb in her mouth angerly. Faced with the upset toddler, Anne pulled both girls into her lap.

“Well Mae, don’t you wanna help Lizzie get ready for school?”

Mae looked from Cathy to Liz before nodding slowly, resting her head in the crook of Anne’s neck. Standing, Anne was careful not to disturb her sleeping partner as she rested Mae on her hip. Holding Liz’s hand, the group made their way out the room towards the kitchen.

“Do you think you could get dressed on your own today?” Anne inquired. Liz grinned toothily, shooting her a thumbs up.

“Yeah!” she cheered, running back up the stairs to her room. Watching her stumble up the stairs, Anne turned to the toddler in her arms with a smile.

“Well then, how about some breakfast?” she asked sweetly, bopping Mae’s nose. Mae giggled at the motion, nodding enthusiastically with a clap of her hands. Coming into the kitchen, she placed Mae on her high chair. Flipping through the cookbook Catalina had gifted the family the previous year, her lips twitched into a smile as her eyes landed on a blueberry pancake recipe.

“Hey, how would you feel about some pancakes?” she questioned. Mae kicked her feet happily, throwing her hands in the air.

“Panckies!” she cheered. Anne chuckled, grabbing the flour from the cupboard. 

“Panckies it is,”

Anne set to work making breakfast, chatting amicably with the happy toddler. Yawning, Liz padded down the stairs. She wore a a grey hoodie, along with a purple skirt and blue leggings. Sticking a blue journal in her sparkly green backpack, she trotted up to Anne.

“Mama? Where’s my lunch?” 

“It’s the brown bag in the fridge,” Anne gestured to the item in question, dropping a dollop of batter on the pan. Liz stuffed the bag in her pack, sneaking a fudge cookie into her lunch. Grabbing a pancake for Mae and Liz each, Anne grabbed a small stack for herself and sat down with the kids. Cutting up their pancakes, Anne handed both girls their breakfast.

“Mama, I want syrup,” Mae protested, pushing her plate back at Anne. Anne sighed, ruffling her daughter’s hair.

“Sorry love, mama forgot to pick any up when we went shopping,” she smiled sheepishly, “But I promise we’ll pick some up on the way to school,”

Mae considered it before nodding, shoving bits of pancake in her mouth. The group ate in a comfortable silence, punctuated by the occasional scrape of cutlery or drop of a fork. Anne wiped the girl’s mouths with a napkin, grabbing the plates and placing them in the dishwasher. Patting Liz’s head, Anne picked Mae off of her chair.

“Could you wait at the door while me and Mae get ready?”

Liz nodded, running off to find her shoes.

Heading up to her room, Anne slipped out of her pajamas and into a green button up shirt and jeans. Dressing Mae to be much more of a challenge, seeing as the child in question wriggled about and refused to sit still. Finally, Anne headed downstairs, a dress clad Mae in her arms. Slipping into her shoes, Anne sent Liz an apologetic smile.

“Sorry for the wait Liz, Mae was feeling a little fidgety,”

Buckling Mae and Liz into their respective seats, Anne pulled her phone out to send Cathy a quick message.

-----------

8:16 AM

You: Hey Cath, I’m out dropping Liz off at school and Mae at Jane’s place, so it’s just you at home for now. Remember to take it easy, you still need to rest. In case you do wake up in time to read this message, breakfast’s in the kitchen. Love you <3

-----------

Slipping into the driver’s seat, Anne pulled out of the driveway as the group made it’s way to the school. Ten minutes and many yelled out songs later found Anne parked in front of the school, waving Liz goodbye. 

“Bye Lizzie, love you! Say hi to Mary for me!” she called. Mae peeked over the window, waving enthusiastically. 

“Bye bye!” she yelled. Liz waved back at the car before running off to the play structure.

Next stop was Jane’s house, where Mae would be having a playdate with Ed, Jane’s son. They got there relatively quickly, Anne noted as she stood at the doorway, resting Mae against her hip. The door opened at her knock, revealing Jane Seymour, her son Ed at her heels. Light blonde hair rested on her head in a messy bun, kind grey eyes greeting Anne warmly. Her figure was short and plump, a sharp contrast to her brother’s tall and muscular build. She was, as Anne liked to say, “friend-shaped”. 

Like his mother, Ed’s hair was light blond, although it was rather thick and puffy. He was a petite figure, although his small size was easily made up for by his large personality. With a temper that rivaled Jane’s and the caring nature to match, he was almost like a miniature version of his mother. 

Jane greeted Anne with a hug, placing a quick kiss to the top of Mae’s head.

“Hello girls!” she beamed warmly, “Right on time, the little one here was getting antsy,”

Anne chuckled at that, easily imagining the little boy running around impatiently, waiting for his friend. 

“Well I’m on time,” she snarked. 

“For once,” Jane muttered under her breath. Anne gasped, clutching a hand to her chest dramatically.

“Me? Late? Never!”

Both children giggled at her theatrics. Wriggling in Anne’s arms, Mae reached a grabby hand towards Jane.

“Mama, lemme go! I wanna play!”

Anne laughed, placing a kiss to Mae’s cheek and setting her on the ground. Mae gave Jane a quick hug before running off with Ed. Watching them go, Jane sighed.

“Well I’d better go make sure no one dies. Tell Cathy I said hi, ‘k?”

“Sure. Love ya!” Anne called, making her way back to the car. 

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

The house was silent when Anne returned, a sure sign that Cathy was still asleep. Grabbing a plate of pancakes and some coffee, Anne made her way over to find Cathy. Walking into their room, Anne couldn’t help the smile that made it’s way onto her lips as she regarded her slumbering wife.

Gentle sunlight illuminated her peaceful face, highlighting every groove and indent in her gingerbread brown face. Wild curls framed her face, sticking out in every direction; a testament to her tossing and turning the night before as her fever stricken body struggled to rest.

Pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, Anne tucked a strand of hair behind her partner’s ear.

“Hey love, it’s time to wake up,” she whispered. Cathy’s face scrunched up slightly as her eyes fluttered open.

“Morning beautiful,” Anne soothed. Cathy yawned, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Morning,” she murmured, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Looking around at the assortment before her, she raised an eyebrow.

“Breakfast in bed? What’s the special occasion?” she teased. 

“You’re sick! Besides, am I not allowed to do something nice for my beautiful wife?” Anne exclaimed. Reaching out for her breakfast, Cathy gave Anne a grateful smile.

“Well, your beautiful wife appreciates it,” Cathy smiled, bumping her head against Anne’s shoulder playfully. Shifting so that she was sitting next to Cathy, Anne wrapped her arm around the former, resting her head on her shoulder. 

“How are you feeling?” Anne inquired. Cathy shrugged, swallowing the bit of pancake in her mouth.

“Honestly? Still pretty shit,”

Anne frowned, placing her hand on Cathy’s forehead. 

“You’re fever’s gone down, you probably just need to rest,” she offered. Cathy nodded wordlessly, laying her head Anne’s chest. Her breathing evened out in a manner of seconds, fork falling onto the bed with a dull Thump.

Carefully, Anne grabbed the plate and mug and placed them on the bedside table. Slowly, she maneuvered their bodies so that they were laying down on the bed, Cathy’s head resting in the crook of her neck.

Listening to the rhythmic sound of Cathy’s breathing, Anne felt her own eyelids grow heavy. She knew she had to go pick Liz and Mae up in a manner of hours, but for now, she’d simply rest her eyes for a moment. She felt Cathy shift slightly, wrapping her arms around Anne’s midsection tightly. The sunlight felt warm on her face, Anne noted as she pulled her blanket up around the two.

The house was quiet. Distantly, Anne heard birds chirping and dogs barking. She could imagine Liz, chatting with her friends excitedly about some tidbit of information they’d found fascinating. She could imagine Mae, building a tower with Ed, only to knock it down with a laugh, Jane fixing lunch behind them as she gazed at the children lovingly. Cathy lay in her arms, snoring lightly as she mumbled something or other in her sleep. It was perfect. 

She held her lover in her arms, and all Anne could think about was how much she loved this woman. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with her, to raise their children together and grow old together. And even after all these years, Anne couldn’t believe Cathy felt the same. She’d felt the same, as they sat in the park and said “I love you” for the first time. As they got married, as they adopted children, Cathy had been with her the whole time. It was peaceful, it was quiet, Anne remarked as she held Cathy close. Cathy had met Anne on a cool autumn night, standing in the corner alone at some party Thomas had convinced her to attend. And ever since then, it had been perfect.

#fanfiction #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfiction #six the kids fanfic #six the musical #six the kids #parrleyn #parrlyn #catherine parr #mae parr #anne boleyn #elizabeth tudor #elizabeth boleyn #parrlyn fanfic #parrleyn fanfic #song fic #jane seymour #catherine of aragon #edward vi #edward tudor #mary tudor

[halfbloodglader]

Drawings (Newt)

Newt x Reader - 1, 488 words

Newt was acting a little strange today. Well, strange maybe wasn’t the best way to phrase it. He was…goofy. The boy had a smile pinned ear to ear, he laughed and goofed off with his peers and even made some strange faces.

A little perplexed, Y/N found herself tilting her head in amusement and laughing at him alongside her friends. She couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. 

His peculiar behaviour continued on throughout the day and up until now where the Gladers enjoyed an evening around the fire. Y/N, just so inspired by Newt’s animation, dragged out an old book full of blank pages. Sitting against a log, she peered up every so often to get a glance of the boy, analyzing his features and copying them down onto the pages. 

After some time, Newt wandered over to Y/N just to say hello and noticed himself and a few of his friends sketched out over the pages. “Oh!” He squeaked. “Am I being drawn?”

Y/N looked up and giggled. “Yes, you are.”

“Can I see?” He pleaded innocently, as if he hadn’t already seen fully. 

The girl tilted the book toward him momentarily but was obviously so focused and in her own little world that she retreated back and continued to doodle. Newt stifled a laugh and let her be.

As the rest of the evening flew by, Newt was painfully aware of her presence. It was as if every time she looked up to take a quick look at him, he caught her. Each time, she smiled happily and continued with her work. Newt wished she smiled at him like that more often, and not just because she was drawing him. 

Every so often, even when she wasn’t looking up and was focused on her work, Newt couldn’t not stare. Peace and escape filled the girls eyes when she was focused like this. Just by looking at her eyes while they reflected the fire, Newt could tell she was troubled by nothing when she concentrated like this. There was nothing about the maze that could even touch her conscience right now.

With the night coming to a close, Newt dragged his feet through the dirt over to Y/N and peered at the now seemingly finished drawings. She was growing tired and he could tell. Y/N held it up and laughed in exhaustion.

Newt also laughed all while admiring the drawings she probably saw as not even half good but he loved with his entire soul. Never, ever could he have imagined how such little scribbles on old paper could mean to him. 

Seeing himself drawn out on the paper, done by Y/N, struck him hard in the chest. Because it was evidence she was thinking of him. Her thoughts, for at least a brief moment in time, were on him. 

Newt caught himself with feet sinking into quicksand. Never, ever had he seen Y/N as anything other than a friend. She was just the quirky, somewhat reserved girl of the glade. In this moment though, she seemed like more. Or, at least, seemed like she could be more to him. The entire night, he’d been looking over to her, something he’d never before done. He was constantly checking in on her, but he felt nervous doing so. His only reaction to being around her was to laugh and smile because he drew a blank anytime he wanted to speak to her now.

“Here, do you want it?” Y/N’s soft laugh snagged him from his thoughts and she ripped the paper from the book and tossed it out to him on the ground. 

Y/N adverted her attention and gathered her things and readied to stand up. Newt picked the paper from the ground and held it in his hands gingerly. 

He couldn’t say anything or even look at her. So, he simply took the drawings and walked off. 

Y/N, as she went to head for her hammock, found Newt walking with his head down, staring at he paper. He even smiled uncontrollably as he showed a few of the fellow Gladers the drawings. To her own disbelief, he seemed momentarily entranced by that one single piece of paper. 

The next morning, Newt had an idea. He wasn’t exactly sure how to approach it, though. Also coming to his attention: he had no clue how to talk to a girl. Not like it was all that different…but it felt different.

Sitting at one of the tables for breakfast alongside chuck and Minho, Newt spotted Y/N with the same book in front of her. With a brave face, he walked over and put a hand on the back of her chair and the other on the table. He had her encased and realized it was sort of crossing a boundary but figured it was too late to change his mind. He had to seem confident. 

Y/N thought he was just looking at some of her drawings so she didn’t look up to greet him or anything. It wasn’t until he began to speak that she craned her neck to try and catch his gaze.

“Can I get you to do some drawings for me? I’ll do some of your work for you or—“ Newt asked and was cut off before he could continue.

“Or, I could just do it.” Y/N smiled a little.

“Or you could just do it.” He parroted. “Could you draw up a card for Alby? It’s his birthday—well, made up birthday—soon. I think we should do something special for him this year.”

Y/N pursed her lips, deep in thought, then broke out and nod her head. “Sure!’” 

“Okay! Cool!” Newt finally lifted himself off of the table and chair and put his hands on his hips. “Awesome!”

“That’s enough adjectives, dude.” Minho grumbled. “You can just say thanks and walk away.”

“Fine,” Newt snapped. “Thanks.” He smiled at Y/N and turned to walk away.

Before he did though, he raised his brows and laughed a little. “Don’t draw that ugly shank though, not worth your time.” He pointed at Minho.

The runner gasped in horror and Y/N laughed. “Note taken.”

“See you later?” Newt asked.

“See you later.” She smiled back and waved him off. 

“Awh, so cute.” Minho put his chin on his hands and smiled like a little girl. “You made Newt fall in love with you just by drawing him. Who knew it’d be that easy?”

“As if,” Y/N rolled her eyes and closed the book, rubbing her hands on her legs. 

“Oh,” Minho scoffed. “You should have seen how he was looking at you. I’ve never seem him like that before.”

Y/N was used to Minho’s insane theories and this wasn’t the first time he’d speculated about Newt and his feelings. The girl learned to just ignore him and move on with her day.

All through her breaks, Y/N worked like a mad man on the drawings. She drafted up a couple of ideas for Alby and was just now finishing them off. It was nearly dinner and she was scrambling to have them finished before the next time she saw Newt. 

Luckily, she managed to do just that. The last few details she needed were filled in just as Frypan hollered out that dinner was ready. As quick as she could, she packed up her things and scrambled across the Glade in search of the blonde haired boy.

She spotted him, just finishing up in the gardens. Her feet quickened beneath her and she was only a few metres off when he looked up to find her approaching. 

Y/N slowed to a walk and held something behind her back. Newt eyed her curiously.

“Are you ready?” She grinned, rocking on her heels.

“Ready for what?” He asked. 

Y/N tried to hold back her growing smile. Newt wasn’t sure it could get any bigger, but it seemed to keep trying. All of the sudden, she whipped out two pieces of paper from behind her back and held them beneath her nose. “For these!”

Newt eyed the drawings in disbelief. They were better than anything he could have imagined and were perfect for Alby. The boy walked closer and scanned them over. Then, he looked up to the tops of the paper where Y/N’s eyes were just peeking above. He reached out and lowered the papers down and shook his head as he smiled at her.

“Y/N,” He said lowly. “You’re amazing!” As he hollered it out, he reached out and lifted the girl up in a tight, appreciative hug. 

When he let her down, Y/N handed him the papers for safe keeping. “Hopefully he likes them.”

“He will.” Newt assured. “If he doesn’t for some reason, I’ll gladly take them.” He laughed. 

#the maze runner #the maze runner x reader #the maze runner imagines #the maze runner imagine #the maze runner newt #newt tmr #newt the maze runner #tmr newt #the maze runner minho #minho the maze runner #minho tmr #minho imagine #thomas the maze runner #the maze runner thomas #thomas tmr #Thomas Imagine #tmr gally #gally the maze runner #gally tmr #the maze runner gally #gally imagine

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 16

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: Here is some info about the LGBTQ+ community in Russia. The post also contains a link to donate if you are able! Love y’all. That’s it. Xx

“Fuck,” Harry said. He shifted his weight onto his right leg and once more began to struggle with his tie.

“What? Do you want me to tie it?” Melody asked as she reentered the room, pinning a curl behind her ear.

“No. Can tie it just fine. Was usin’ the wrong leg again. And my arms are tired. I need to get back in the gym.”

“Then set up some times with Sean. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help.”

“Mhmm.”

Harry sighed as Melody stepped in front of the mirror to apply a fresh coat of lipstick. He couldn’t see himself or the knot he was working on. Only her naked spine, where the back of her dress dipped.

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” she asked as she set her lipstick down and turned around, rubbing her lips together. They were a deep pink, and Harry could guess they tasted as sweet as they looked.

“I can do it,” he insisted, angling so that he could look at himself in the mirror once again.

“I’ve never seen you in a tie,” Melody observed.

“Tha’s because I don’ like ‘em.”

“Well, that’s rude. I bought you that one as a gift, if I recall correctly.”

Harry willed his fingers not to stall. He could get lost in the memories of his birthday if he allowed himself. Finally, he pulled the knot tight and positioned it as the center of his throat. All the prouder that he hadn’t even closed his eyes to picture Melody bound to his headboard and spread open on his old bed.

“You look handsome.”

He grunted. He didn’t look like himself. He looked like a caricature, like some alternate universe Harry, some businessman with a couple of kids who got drunk every Friday night and cheated on his wife. All he was missing was a pager.

Melody leaned back against her dresser and folded her hands together.

“Harry, do you not wanna go?”

“What?”

She shrugged. “I don’t wanna make you—”

“Mel, shut up. ‘S your birthday. We’re goin’ to dinner.” He shot her a pointed look. He’d been extra gentle with her since talking to Goodman, though his frustration hadn’t ebbed. And even more careful since the day at the grocery store.

“Okay.”

Harry straightened the tie and tugged down the thighs of his trousers as Melody trailed into the living room to find her coat. It still felt strange to be in dress pants, but he had to admit this was more comfortable, that he had more room to breathe. The tie, however, he could do without.

“Ready?” Melody asked as he ambled out of the bedroom.

Harry nodded and ran a hand through his hair. It was beginning to grow and he wasn’t at all used to this length. As much as he craved the normalcy of long locks, this middle of the road thing, with the ends tickling his neck and catching in his eyes, he didn’t like. It was almost worse than the short cut. And he didn’t think he could get used to the scars that marked his scalp. He could feel their foreign indents with every sweep of his fingers.

Melody led him out into the hall and then locked the door behind them, dropping her keys into the pocket of her jacket. They tromped down the stairs and out onto the street. Harry loosened his tie absentmindedly when they were sitting in the backseat of a cab.

Melody chewed her freshly painted lips and glanced out the window, where all of the snow from the past week had melted but window panes were still frosted over. Her fingers inched across the seat until they brushed Harry’s and she fitted her palm with his. His thumb tickled her wrist.

“Smell so good,” he whispered to her.

Melody turned away from the window and scooted closer to him. “I’ve heard that line before.” She smiled. “So do you.”

Harry grinned. “And yeh look beautiful. Did I tell yeh that?”

“I don’t think you did. Could you tell me again?”

His grin fell into a smirk and he lifted her knuckles to his lips. He pressed kisses to her first and third fingers. “Yeh look gorgeous, love,” he said before leaning in to peck her forehead. “Happy birthday,” he told her again.

“Thank you,” Melody whispered in reply, turning her face into his neck. Instead of a kiss, she nudged his jaw with the tip of her nose to avoid smearing him with lipstick.

Despite protests, Harry paid for the cab when they arrived at the restaurant. A doorman ushered them inside, and then a hostess directed them to a table in the back corner of a dimly lit room, where Bea and Sean were already sitting. They smiled as Melody approached, slipping off her coat. Harry’s hand found her back just below the dip of her dress.

“Happy birthday,” greeted Sean with a wide grin, standing to skirt around the table and pull her into a hug. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and Harry frowned, settling into the chair across from Bea.

“Thanks,” Melody answered with a wide grin. She sat down next to Harry. Sean returned to his own seat and the four of them fell into a dull silence, adjusting to the new dynamic.

“I should tell you,” Bea began, finding a starting point, “that your parents sent these flowers.” She motioned to the centerpiece. It was a crystal vase filled with lilies and lavender, with sprigs of baby’s breath spilling around the edges. “And they’re also paying for the meal. I was given very specific instructions.”

“Of course you were.” Melody smiled and stroked the petal of a lily. As much as her parents felt like a weight pressing upon her shoulders, she missed them. If she had seen them today, she might not feel the same way, but for now she felt a quiet ache. It was her first birthday without so much as a visit from them.

“Presents before or after dinner?” Sean asked. His fingers curled around the neck of his beer as his eyes fixed on Melody. Harry’s gaze was scorching, but flitted away at the smallest twist of Sean’s head.

“You didn’t need to get me anything. I told you not to—“

“And I didn’t listen. Too late now. So, before or after?”

Sean grinned across the table and Melody puckered her lips to hide her own smile. She hummed. “Um, after, I guess.”

“After it is.”

***

Melody had nearly drained her third glass of wine by the time everyone finished eating. Her face was tinged pink with the warmth of the alcohol. She let her cutlery clatter to her plate and settled back in her chair. Harry looked up when her fingers slid into his lap and he found her talking animatedly to Bea.

“You barely even ate,” Melody said as she looked down at Bea’s plate.

“I’m gonna share the rest with Josie. She was pissed that she had to work. And I mean pissed. Mostly because she was missing a good meal.” Bea laughed. “Not that she doesn’t love you because she does and she would’ve loved to celebrate your birthday,” she continued, rambling, “but, you know.”

Melody grinned and nodded so voraciously that a curl fell loose. “I know, I know.”

“So, gifts?” Sean asked. He blew out a long sigh, groaning at the impossible amount of food that he’d consumed. His plate was nearly spotless.

“Oh, God. Yes. Sure.”

Harry tipped a mouthful of beer past his lips as Melody’s hand fell from his thigh. Bea’s face disappeared out of view as she reached beneath the table. She reemerged with a bright pink gift bag spilling with glittery tissue paper, which she placed on the table. Melody gasped as something hit her feet.

“Sorry,” Bea said. “That’s Harry’s. It’s too big for the table.”

Melody turned to look at him and he merely lifted his brows in acknowledgment. She reached for the pink bag on the table as Sean fished for his own present. The tissue paper threw shapes of light around the room as she settled each piece around her plate.

“Oh, you bitch,” she muttered, peeking into the bag with a dramatic gasp. “Are you serious?”

Bea flashed a white smile. “Very serious.”

“Why would you spend—“

“They’re from me and Josie,” Bea interrupted.

“What the hell is in the bag?” Harry asked, leaning forward.

Melody’s shock morphed into a pleased smile. She pulled a long black, velvety, heeled boot from the bag. “I’ve been staring at these for two years. Fuck.” She pressed the fabric to her cheek and sighed. “Thank you. And tell Josie thank you. Please.”

“Of course I will.”

Harry settled back in his chair and laid his arms over his stomach. Sean set a box on the table as Melody folded up the leg of her new boot and placed it back in its bag. He slid the box toward her.

“Me next.”

Melody took a large gulp of her wine and thumbed a stray drop into her mouth before ripping open the paper on Sean’s gift. Her fingers stumbled just slightly as she pulled the lid from the box. A thin layer of tissue paper covered the contents. She pulled it back and then dropped her head forward, shaking it weakly. “You’re ridiculous,” she whispered.

Melody pulled a boxing glove from beneath the tissue paper. It was pink and the leather shone beneath the lights above their table. There were letters stitched into the velcro cuffs. Harry had to squint to make them out. He deciphered “Rhoden” after a short struggle and then tried not to roll his eyes.

“You do like pink, right?” Sean asked. “I didn’t just make that up?”

“No, I love pink.” Her index finger traced the letters of her last name. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We can break them in next week.”

Melody closed the box again and looked at Harry. He was still staring at the gifts she’d already opened.

“Harry.” She tapped the back of his hand. “Do you want me to open yours?”

“Sure,” he answered with a shrug. “Go ahead.”

Melody pressed her lips together as she reached under the table and drew a hefty package up into her lap. Her fingertips picked at the edges of the brown wrapping paper. The flaps of the box were taped together and she ripped a piece away before peeling the edges back.

“Oh,” Melody whispered. It was an old typewriter, tarnished but beautiful. Harry watched her very gently brush a line of keys with her fingers. She curled her knuckles and pressed them to her chin, twisting her head to face him. “Where did you find this?”

Harry cleared his throat and tightened his arms over his torso. “Just some antique place in the city.”

Her eyes roamed his face and then she dipped her hand back into the box. There was a metallic click as she pressed a key. “This works?”

Harry nodded gently. He couldn’t gauge her reaction when she was so quiet and still. He looked down at his finished plate and there was only a moment before Melody’s hand grasped the back of his neck. He felt her lips press to the corner of his jaw. “Thank you, Harry,” she whispered. She stroked the ends of his hair. She smelled like sweet wine. “Thank you.”

Bea leaned across the table to look into the box and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, my God. He’s a sap.”

Melody laughed into Harry’s ear and straightened, still drawing her fingers through his hair. “Shut up.”

“No, you shut up.”

“Are you coming home with us?” Melody asked. She slipped her hand out of Harry’s hair and closed the box in her lap, laying her palms gently on top.

Bea took a deep breath. “No, I’ll leave you two to your own devices. I’m gonna meet Josie. You don’t want dessert?”

“I couldn’t eat another crumb.”

“It’s your birthday, Melody.”

“And I’m stuffed.”

Sean rubbed one eye. “Time for your exit, birthday girl?”

“Sorry to end the party,” she said. She settled the typewriter in its box very carefully at the side of her chair and stood up, looping around the table. Sean stood to meet her in a hug.

Harry was silent as he watched the two of them. Sean had an arm clasped across Melody’s shoulders and another wrapped around her waist, fingers curled into her hip. They were pressed directly against one another, chest to chest, belly to belly, and as he watched, Sean whispered something into Melody’s ear that made her let out a peal of laughter. And then they released each other, stepping back to opposite corners of the table, grinning.

Harry glanced briefly down at the box containing Melody’s new gloves, and the sudden wave of anger that rushed through him was almost blinding. He stood abruptly, the legs of his chair squeaking across the tile flooring. Melody glanced at him from the corner of her eye before he stepped behind her and around the end of the table. “Harry?” she asked curiously. He took the collar of Sean’s shirt between his fists.

“Yeh’re a right motherfucker,” he growled as he shoved Sean, who was unprepared and stumbled over a leg of the table.

“Harry!” Melody hissed. No one had turned to look at them yet, and she was hopeful that whatever this was could be stopped, or at least postponed until they were outside.

“What?” Sean gripped the back of his chair to catch himself and shook his head incredulously. “What did I do?”

“Did yeh wait a week? A month?” Harry shoved Sean again and then swung without warning. His fist connected with Sean’s cheek and Melody clapped a hand over her mouth as she saw spit hit the tiles. Cutlery clattered to plates and the restaurant fell silent.

“For what?” Sean shouted, feeling gingerly at his rapidly swelling cheek.

“To fuckin’ touch her, yeh pathetic fuck.”

Sean’s eyes widened and flickered to Melody, who still stood across the table, frozen. Harry flexed his stinging knuckles to loosen them and prepare for another punch.

Sean scoffed. “Have you lost your goddamn mind? Take another bullet to that thick head?”

Harry swung again to a background of outraged gasps and this time blood began to trickle from the corner of Sean’s mouth. His tongue touched the wound once and then he threw himself at Harry, toppling the two of them to the ground.

“Holy fuck,” Bea muttered, rising from the table as the boys knocked Sean’s chair into hers.

Melody flinched at the sound of Harry’s face as it took one of Sean’s hits. She lifted her eyes from their mess for a second which could have lingered for hours, panning the restaurant, meeting the stunned faces of other patrons. A grunt drew her attention back to the tangle of limbs at her feet. She watched a spray of blood settle on the floor. Voices lifted from across the room and the next thing she knew, a very large man dressed in black was weaving between the tables toward them.

Melody drew in a prolonged breath and then slid her jacket from the back of her chair. She met Bea’s eyes for the first time and found her friend watching her intently, concerned, waiting for a cue. Melody swallowed whatever emotions had begun to bubble up to the surface and shook her head. “I need to leave,” she said quietly.

Bea nodded and was on her feet in one swift movement, shouldering her purse and coat, linking her other arm in Melody’s. They left their table behind, flowers and gifts and all, and fled the building. Melody breathed a sigh of relief when she met the cold sidewalk, snowflakes settling along her shoulders, melting along her cheeks.

“Fuck,” she murmured, slipping her arm from Bea’s so that she could stretch out her limbs, close her hands around some invisible grasp on this situation. “Fuck,” she repeated, louder.

“Are you okay?” Bea asked. She shook her head almost before she’d finished the thought. “I mean, you’re not okay, of course. What the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know.” Melody pressed the heels of her hands against her forehead. “He’s so angry all the time and I don’t know how to curb that anger, Bea.”

“But he thinks you cheated on him? With Sean?”

“No.” Melody was indignant. She leaned back against the wall of the building beside the restaurant and lifted one foot to unbuckle her shoe. “No, he doesn’t. He just wants to hit someone and Sean was his closest target.”

Bea sputtered in bewilderment. “I thought they were friends.”

“I don’t think he cares right now,” Melody said as she finished taking off her heels and clutched them to her chest. Her body was calm. She didn’t know how to feel. Sad? Furious? There was a faint buzz of irritation now, but she was sure it would soon evolve into something else.

“I’ll grab your things,” Bea began, “if you wanna—”

The door to the restaurant flew open and Harry and Sean stumbled outside, bruised and bleeding and swearing almost incoherently. The man wearing black slammed the door closed behind them. Sean turned to escape down the street, breathing heavily, flipping Harry off as he went.

“Fine, pussy,” Harry called after him. Then he twisted around and his eyes met Melody’s. He paused, gasping in the fresh air, squeezing the collar of his jacket which hung at his side.

“Grab a cab,” Bea whispered to her.

Melody dropped her gaze and began down the sidewalk, back in the direction of her apartment, watching the street for a taxi.

Harry started behind her but he hadn’t taken more than a couple of steps before Bea stood in his path.

“You need to leave her alone,” she said in the hardest tone he’d ever heard her use.

“No, I need to—”

“Harry,” she snapped, “listen to me. You’ve done enough tonight. She needs space. And I swear to God, if I can’t get my leftovers Josie will kill you on sight.” There was no amusement in her voice. “What Melody needs is for you to start—”

Harry had been listening—distracted, admittedly—but at that moment he saw a cab passing him by, heading up the street, and he saw Melody step off the sidewalk, between a couple of parked cars. He tapped Bea’s shoulder as he maneuvered around her and booked his way down the sidewalk.

“Melody!” he shouted. He didn’t really expect her to stop for him, but she didn’t even spare him a glance as she slid into the backseat of the cab. The door slammed shut just as he reached it. He smacked a hand against the window. “Melody, please. ‘M sorry. I know I—”

The car pulled away from the side of the road and shifted into the thin traffic. Harry took a few steps in pursuit, but gave up as the driver weaved away from him. He watched the cab’s bumper grow smaller until it disappeared around a corner and then he hung his head.

***

Harry had no luck getting his own taxi. He supposed it was karma, laughing at his attempts. He trekked the entire way back to Melody’s apartment. His feet ached by the time he reached the front door and his face stung something awful. He thought that the cold air might have numbed it, but the wind only irritated his cuts, biting at his swollen nose.

He dragged his way up the stairs to the apartment, almost wishing for more time before he had to face her, and when he tried the door he found it locked. He didn’t have a key. He’d never wanted a key. He rested his forehead just below the peephole, clinging to the doorframe.

“Melody,” he called. There was silence, but he knew she was here. He could almost feel her presence inside. “Mel, please open the door.”

This time there were footsteps. But they padded closer and then disappeared into a different room. Harry gritted his teeth.

“Melody, I don’ have anywhere else to go. Please, let me in.”

Silence fell again. And then footsteps sounded. This time they drew even closer. Harry heard the locks click and then the footsteps receded once again. He tested the doorknob and then stepped into the apartment, sure to lock the door behind him.

Light fell from the open door to Melody’s bedroom. Her shoes were thrown haphazardly on the kitchen floor and Harry nearly tripped over them as he moved warily into the main space. His steps slowed the closer he got to her, as though his legs were warning him. But then he reached the threshold of her room.

Melody was staring out her window at the pitiful view she had. She wasn’t really seeing, anyway. She was only looking. And the reflection of her face was more visible than anything past the glass.

“You are a fucking jackass,” she started, when it was apparent that Harry would not break first. “There is not a fucking word in the English language to describe what you are. Or how fucking pissed I am at you.”

“Yeh’re pissed? How the fuck d’yeh think I feel when Sean—”

“Just shut up, Harry!”

Melody had been angry with Harry many times before. She’d yelled at him and cried at him, but he’d never heard her scream like this. It wasn’t a pleasant sound.

Frustrated tears were pooling at the corners of her eyes, and she could think of nothing to do but grit her teeth and begin digging the pins out of her hair. She avoided looking at his reflection.

“What is that? You think that by now I wouldn’t know you better than that? It’s bullshit! You know for a fucking fact that I would never, ever cheat on you. I would never do that to you. The four months that you were in a hospital and I was fucking traumatized and terrified to death that I would never speak to you again? That’s when I would fuck your goddamn cornerman? Of all the half-assed excuses you could come up with.” She shook her head. “You’re just stir-crazy and sadistic and instead of acting like a normal person and going to a goddamn boxing class or training with the closest friend you have you split his fucking lip open! And you can’t just say it like it is—that you just needed to hit someone—you blame me. You concoct this bullshit idea that I am fucking your friend behind your back. That is humiliating. And you ruined my birthday again, you selfish asshole!”

Melody was sobbing. She spun around, whipping the pins she had collected across the bedroom, and lifted her forearms up to hide her face.

Harry let a slow breath out from between his lips. He watched her body wrack where she stood and dropped his head forward, smoothing a hand up and down his face. He took a step into the bedroom and then backtracked, sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants. His heart was thundering in his chest.

“Mel—”

“Do not call me that!” she shouted between hysterical sobs. It took her another minute to collect herself enough to lower her arms, and then she swiped wildly at the makeup that had begun to run down her cheeks. “Please, just go away.”

“Can I just—”

“No! No, you can’t. Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.”

Harry pressed his lips so tightly together that he could feel the blood draining from them. Melody gave him one last cold look and then turned around to strip out of her dress. She swung it in the direction of her laundry basket and opened the drawer of her night table.

“Go!” she snapped. “Close the door!”

Harry stepped back into the living room as she pulled a makeup wipe out and began scrubbing at her face. He let the door click shut between them and pressed his forehead to its peeling paint. His knuckles stung. His nose hurt terribly. He knew it wasn’t broken because that was a different type of pain, but he felt like shit.

“Christ,” he hissed between his teeth.

“Hi, mama,” he heard, muffled, from the other side of the door a few moments later. He didn’t know how Melody could have collected herself so quickly, but he could barely hear the tears lingering as she spoke. 

The apartment felt stiff and tense. The very air seemed charged. Harry, looking toward his feet, saw the light disappear from underneath the door and then heard the shift of the mattress inside the bedroom. He was lost in the darkness, not even a generous moon to light the living room. But he stepped away from the door and navigated his way by memory and with cautious feet.

The couch pressed into all the wrong places. Or maybe he imagined how uncomfortable it was as he stripped out of his coat and clothes and laid down, staring up into the unyielding shadow. It wasn’t warm, but he didn’t allow himself the comfort of draping his coat over his body.

The minutes ticked by. Perhaps they were hours. His eyes did not grow heavy. He should have done something about his face, he thought belatedly, but he had no motivation. He pressed his knuckles, one by one, to his chest, until each sang in protest.

“Harry.”

The sound made him twitch. He hadn’t heard any footsteps, but as he glanced toward the arm of the couch, his eyes now adjusted to the dark, he saw Melody. She was wearing one of his ratty t-shirts and her arms were clasped tightly at the base of her ribcage.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“I—” Melody let out a heavy sigh and pressed her palms to her forehead, then brushed hair from her face. She stared at him, her eyes red-rimmed. He thought she was going to turn around and shut herself up in the bedroom again, but she kept staring. Silent. 

“I can’t sleep if you’re not in the bed,” she eventually breathed out.

Harry drew the corner of his lip into his mouth and bit down hard on it. He dug the tips of his fingers into his knee until his knuckles sang again with the memory of the last punch he’d delivered to Sean. “D’yeh want me to lay with yeh?”

Melody nodded.

Harry lifted himself off of the couch and Melody slipped back into the bedroom. She was already beneath the sheets by the time he followed her inside, and he laid himself down carefully beside her on his back. This bed smelled like them. No longer just of her, like it used to, or just of him, like his bed had last year, but like a perfect mixture of the both of them. It made him ache all over.

Melody shifted beneath the covers. Harry stared up at the ceiling while she repositioned. He felt her tug on the comforter before falling still again and his fingers ached at his sides. He wanted to reach out and touch her but he knew that wasn’t an option, not unless she asked him to. And she was asleep before that was even possible.

Chapter 17

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