#LOVER BOY POINTS & LAUGHS @ HIM POINTS POINTS IMAGINE BING IN LOVE

[pup-pee]

I RAN OUT OF TAGGSSS THIS ISS THE WORST MOMENT OF MY LIFE

anyways resuming emotions;

OMGG THSIBSIS SOS RPROETUUYYYYYYYYY HOLF FIFKCINGJSKNF AAAAAAAA fuckam i bing overdramatic??? JSHFKDK IDKIM NOT IM NOT

god the sad part in this movie is hapoenign but im just giggling bc of kon + bart on my screen god theyre so everything they r everything they mean everything 2 eachother literally just omggg AAAMSMMFKFKVKFKGKGKGKKGKFKFKKRKEKSKSKSJJDND ANAJJSJAJA A AA omg hey gays r confessing on screen woah wtf since when was this gay?? OK HIP HIP HOORAY LESBIANSoh shit wait no theyre just friends BOOOOOOOOO 1 of them died WIAT THE KISS?????????? YO SO MANY FEELINGS NAYWASY

2 quote my mother “oh true friendships kiss” NO MOTHER

SHE LITERALLY CAME BACK ALIVE THESE BITCHES GAY AF

shit what was i OH I SCROLLED UP RIGHT THE SILLIESSSS!!!!! THE ABSOLUTE SILLIEST!!!! god im so obsessed w/this image im going 2 just im these drawings mannn omg op vry pretty work all around <333 just NOMJOMJOMONLM hope u dont mind me eating this NOMNOM NOM MOM GNAWS NOMS GNAWS oh were u going 2 eat this srry just- BITES NOMNOSMSN CHEWS EATS GNAWS NOMS BITES oh shit srry next time then

NO FUCK THIS MOVIE “what is more powefful, then a love btween friends?” WHAT THE HELL GET OUT OF HERE

this is literally the treatment kon & bart get from writers prove me wrong??????? literally disprove me u cant?????????

ANYWAYS OP THIS IS AMAZING just thought u should know if u ahvent gotten this yet

Staring at the sun ☀️

[writinandcrying]

TMNT - Mikey x Reader - Silent Love

(Just something that has been on my mind, it’s 3 am and cuddling with big ass pillow makes you think about turtles with soft, caring hearts) | pining, best friends to possible lovers(?), fluff, cuddling, SFW.

(Also this gif has nothing to do with this scenario but I love it so much lmao, dorky bby boy I luv u)

——————————————————————————

There isn’t really an explanation for how it started, or why it became like that, You were his best friend from the get go, just a instant connection, you finally felt seen him with, he finally felt found with you.

You quickly became wonderful addition the boys didn’t knew they needed, it was fun seeing how well you and Mikey clicked, from your on going jokes, to how you two didn’t even have to say anything, just a quick glance and both already knew what the other needed or meant.

From early age, they all wishes to have a connection like yours, jealousy wasn’t a usual shared feeling between them tho, oh no- all of mikey’s oldest brothers could only focus on how you both made each other happy, understood, maybe there wasn’t words to describe how thankful they were for you to be in his life, but deep down, you already knew their smiles and chuckles towards your interactions carried a tender meaning behind it, and you always tried to give back the same compassion you have received and cherished.

So yeah, It was always fun to hang out with Mikey, doesn’t really matter what you do together, you know both of you will have a great time regardless- and a story to tell someone else at the end of the day.

But if you may, in your personal opinion, your top 1, 100/10, A++ shared activity- was definitely the sleep overs.

It’s not only how casual and yet special it was, you could just be yourself and he could do the same, and everything else was forgotten. The concept of time would suddenly vanish, everything you did together could have different outcomes, from laughing too much until one of you feel like throwing all the pizza you ate, to cuddling in the couch after binging avatar the last airbender for the 15th time.

Talking about cuddling, that was the most expected part of night, for both of you.

Sharing a bed with Mikey wasn’t a problem, as much as Master Splinter insisted on establishing ground rules from the very first sleep over, on how to behave in their house hold- he trusted your discernment, he knew his youngest’s jokes would take a lot of courage and time between him and you to actually conquer in so said future, he also knew it would profetize eventually. For now- He admired your companionship, so cuddling and sleeping on the same bed was allowed between both of you

Althought, there was something no one knew about you two. Neither of you could point out if something shifted or just gradually grew into this. Between the sea of a heavy duvets covering both of you, endless pillows, the soft glow of almost fading Christmas lights adoring Michelangelo’s room, your favorite activity of the night was to trace mikey’s “freckles” and valleys over his body

You adored to call it freckles, even if Donnie had insisted on correcting you as many times as he liked, on how they weren’t freckles per say- Mikey didn’t mind tho, if you viewed as freckles, so it is. The different colors between his scalled skin, gradually moving between a greenish ocre, light green, all the way to dark esmerald in some of his edges, you could swear sometimes some bits of a purple-bluefish glow to it. No words could make justice on how breathtaking, mesmerizing his skin can be

You slowly linger your fingers along his skin, from his palms to his bicep, his shoulder blades to the valley of his neck, sometimes you would imagine a hidden forest path, a unknown river, stars constellations from the decreasing paths along the scales and some scars, the last concept was your favorite, and oh how you adored to think about it as you cup his cheek

You loved how his eyes remind you of early mornings, the concept of imagination, possibility and dreams adored his complexion, the light blue of his eyes reminding of Saturday mornings on summer vacations, or clear beach waters on a enchanted island, always bright and full of promises, it fits him so well, you don’t even know if he knows how bright he can be, in every possible way. Just like a early morning sky ready to embrace the whole day

This was the best part of the sleep over, the part were you could see him getting quiet, calm, how smitten he looked while he also admired you, sometimes you wish you could read his mind, did he thought the same sappy shit as you did of him? Then again, how his hand perfectly hold you close, drawings his thumb in and out, caressing from hips to your back, movements with such gentleness and yet, a firm pressure reading that yes, you were there, and so he was. maybe, just maybe, he’s thinking even gushier, fluffier things about you.

It’s a privilege to say Mikey’s warm is Inviting and familiar, your face fits perfectly on the nape of his neck, his breathing caresses your skin, grounding, calming, centering. Your soft sleepy mumbles does the same for him. Finding a peaceful slumber is a welcomed sorrow, cuz secretly, or not so secretly- you wished these moments could last forever.

Every sleepover, before drifting off, you silently promise yourself to finally kiss good night next time

Just as he silently promises to do so too.

——————————————————————————

Authors note:

Hehehe ☺️💗

But at the same time:

[ficsforeren]

OKAY I FINISHED THE SECRETS BETWEEN US ON SUNDAY AND I HAVE SO MUCH I WANNA SAY

I KINDA REGRET NOT WAITING UNTIL TLS WAS OVER BECAUSE THE FLUFF IN THIS FIC WOULD’VE BEEN THE THERAPY I NEEDED

FIRST LET ME SHOW YOU MY MESSAGES WITH SANDRA BECAUSE SHE TRULY IS YOUR NUMBER ONE FAN FOR THIS FIC

My apologies for flooding everyones dash with my ask, your followers probably hate me lmao.I bet everyone sees my long comments and asks and they’re just like “why is she this invested in a fan fic?”🤨 LOL

Also I was doing an essay while binging so I didn’t leave many comments while I was reading it, and you know I like leaving you my every thought in detail. I’m gonna skim each chapter again so I can tell you most of what I loved, I’ll try keeping it short though.

Lowkey kinda scared to tell Sandra this but I still love rockstar Eren more (It’s for personal reason, I’ve told both of you already, I’m just so attached to him) BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN I DONT LOVE EREN IN THIS FIC, HE IS ADORABLE I JUST LOVE HIM DIFFERENTLY

He is absolutely precious in this fic, I’m not gonna lie, i couldn't stop imagining him as the end of s3 Eren or Eren in the sunset scene in s4. That mid length hair was just so cute on him, and he’s so precious in this fic so it just felt fitting, but also I could see him with the man bun as the pretty knight in shining armour y’know?

I have so many favourite scenes in this story, I just loved the way he loved her despite knowing they couldn’t be in love, the forbidden love trope is one of my favourites. The way he longs for her and he gets so excited to see her is just the purest thing ever.

He’s such a delicate lover boy, oh my god, my heart was exploding throughout the whole thing. I feel like there’s so many moments I loved and I won’t remember to point them all out but I’ll tell you one I really liked, it honestly wasn’t that important, it was the moment they shared at the pond in the waterlilies chapter was one of my favourites. I feel like I could perfectly imagine him in that scene when you said you could practically see his tail wagging behind him. You know that moment you’re talking to someone and catch their interest in a conversation or they become passionate about something while speaking or and for a split second it’s like their eyes glow when they look at you? That’s how I imagined him when he got to ask his princess a question, it was just such a pure reaction. It was even cuter that he simply chose to ask about her favourite flower of all things. When he said “thank you for being my waterlily” my heart felt so warm, the symbolism behind the flower was so beautiful, but it was such a sweet way for him to tell her what she meant to him, implying that she’s his peace and enlightenment as you described the flower. Such a beautiful moment.

Also the part after she explained that it was unladylike to laugh which is why she would hide it and his response was “Such a shame.” I think I would die if someone expressed being sad that I covered my laugh. Then when he complimented her. “I like the way you laugh. The way you sound when you do…” His eyes slowly drifted to your lips. “The way your lips curve when you smile…” His eyes glazed as his voice turned into a whisper. “You’re beautiful.” Oof the way he pointed out the little details about the sound and the curve of her lips, I was melting, and the “If I keep it a secret between us, will you agree to laugh without hiding it when you’re with me?”UGH this baby, god I love him so much, it’s the little things that get me every time Kana.

I love how levi and Petra were like her parental figures in this. I wasn’t expecting Levi to be as laid back as he was, but I loved that he had a soft spot for the princess and was willing to keep secrets for her knowing he could get in a lot of trouble. And Petra being like a mother and best friend in one was so comforting, besides Petra she really had no one else to turn to when she really needed the comfort and support. Despite both Levi and Petra being against her relationship with Eren I’m glad that they wanted to put her happiness first and even tried their best to help Eren out to make her happy. I also liked Erens dynamic with them, it was really similar to hers since they both only really had Petra and Levi. Even though Petra didn’t express any liking towards Eren since their relationship could get everyone into trouble, I still saw her as a motherly figure for him as well and when Petra came around to him in the end and gave him affection I was just so happy for him. He really had no one to turn to and appreciated everyone’s support so strongly because he knew their relationship was hopeless but never wanted to give up on it.

I LOVE FATHER ERWIN, HES LITERALLY MY COMFORT CHARACTER IN THIS FIC. I’m so glad he didn’t get in the way of her happiness even though she was in a forbidden relationship that wouldn’t win in the end. I love that he chose to be supportive for the time she had left with Eren because he understood the significance of being in love and wanted to allow her to feel that instead of separating them. He even encouraged them to be together as much as he could just to see her happy even though he knew they would win in the end, which was really cute. Also that scene when he said “I wish in another life, I could have you as my son.” to Eren was the most precious moment in the whole story. I love how Erwin was so grateful that his daughter could be loved by Eren, even though he couldn’t keep them together.

The confession chapter, the moment they shared together dancing and just enjoying each other’s presence made my heart warm and when he accidentally kissed her I was like FINALLY. But my favourite part about this chapter was when he gave her the poem as a birthday gift. I know you could always tell they were in love at this point, but the way he was so nervous about giving it to her because it wasn’t for a princess made my heart hurt a little, but then she happily accepted it because it was coming from the man she loved and he could do no wrong in her eyes 😭 I love, love. I want what they have.

I ALREADY SAID THIS BUT THE WAY YOU WRITE “LOVE SEGGS” ITS MY FAVOURITE THING I COULD LITERALLY GO ON AND ON ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE IT. He’s just so gentle with her and I love the way he caters to her needs and worships her, it’s just so beautiful. There’s just so much passion between them. I’ve said sweet and precious a million times now but the way Eren gets flustered when they told Petra they made love is just so cute, he literally owns the words sweet and precious.

The irreplaceable chapter, I don’t even know where to begin with that one. It already started off tense because Armin came to see her, but it was so sad when they went back to the room and felt guilty touching each other affectionately even though they had just “made love” before Armin came. I was already sad enough that they didn’t feel comfortable together after making passionate love but when she “fell asleep” and he started talking about all of his hopes, dreams, and fantasies for their relationship, it absolutely broke me. My heart ached so bad for him. Every single detail about how he imagined they would’ve met if she was just a normal person made me so soft. How he would’ve protected her as children and she would give him bread from her family's bakery, how he would confess his love to her once they’ve gotten older and reassured her that it wouldn’t be a mistake to be together😭. The cottage by the lake, the kids, making love under the stars, akbsjejdjwjd SO CUTE. BUT THE FACT THAT HE KNOWS IT COULD NEVER BE THAT WAY HURTS. He deserves so much love🥺

I KNOW I'M ALWAYS HERE TALKING ABOUT THE MOST MINOR FLUFF MOMENTS WHEN YOU LITERALLY SPECIALISE IN SMUT, BUT I WANNA LET YOU KNOW I LOVE YOUR FILTHY SMUT TOO, I'M ALWAYS H WORD FOR HIM WHEN I READ YOUR SMUT I PROMISE!! That last smut scene was mouth watering. They were so close to resisting and it’s like something just snapped and they were both feral for each other.

Okay I guess I’m done for now, I’ll reread it after tls and make some more comments, I feel like most of this doesn’t even begin to explain how much I loved this story and I want you to know just how amazing it is. You’re absolutely amazing as always kana!💕

I hope this makes sense I’m falling asleep typing all of this.

EVERYTIME I GOT A MESSAGE FROM YOU JOLI I'M LIKE--

OKAY BUT HOW IN THE WORLD ARE YOU BOTH SO CUTE?!?!??!?!?!? Like i am this close at making a group chat for the three of us just so we can scream at each other about eren 24/7 (i'm most likely gonna use it to scREAM MY LOVE FOR YOU AND SANDRA BECAUSE WTF???? YOU GUYS ARE SO PRECIOUS I'M ABOUT TO FUCKING COMBUST

i seriously don't know how to thank you enough, i feel like a broken record saying it again and again about how much i appreciate you guys. i mean like this is the reason why i write fanfics. messages like this keep me SO MOTIVATED I JUST FINISHED THE LAST HALF OF MY EPILOGUE FOR THE LAST SONG IN ONE SITTING!!! THAT'S HOW MUCH POWER YOUR MESSAGE HAS OVER ME JOLIIIIIIIII

AND PLEASEEEE I LOVE LONG MESSAGEEEEES!!! don't ever apologize for sending me one. i'm sure my moots and other readers would love to hear your thoughts too! i feel like when they read your comments, they can understand my stories better lol 😂 and I THANK YOU FOR THAT

now let's get down to business

NO BUT I THINK I LOVE ROCKSTAR EREN MORE TOO???? i just love angsty boys lol. but if i'm ever gonna write part 2, there will be a lot of angst in that one 'cause we'll get to learn about his past. but honestly right now i don't know if i can do it 😅

and yes, that is correct!! this is the cute eren before he went to infiltrate marley. that's why i wrote him tying his hair up in a ponytail instead of a bun in the earlier chapters hehe

he's literally like a puppy in this fic, isn't he? 😍

AHHHH THIS WAS MY FAVORITE SCENE TOO!!!! It just felt so pure and innocent in my head. i just love writing them as a young couple who fell in love for the first time and for being secretive about it but not really 😂 it's a stark contrast to how rockstar eren and yn behaved during their fwb days lol

YES THANK YOU FOR POINTING IT OUT!!! jesus christ joli you NEVER missed!!!! seriously i feel like you're living inside my brain. you take every word out of my mouth UGH THANK YOU

yeah they are basically their parents lol. in part 2 (again, if i have the energy to write it lol) levi and petra will play a major role in their relationship. i wish i could tell you but i'm not sure if i have everything planned out yet 😅

DUDEEEE SAMEEEEEE i had so much fun writing his scenes! erwin is so kind and smart and funny too (in my head anyway). he's the cool dad. a cool DILF if i may say. and yes, when eren broke down in front of him, that was such a vulnerable moment for both of them. i wish every king was as kind as erwin. oh speaking about that, you'd probably be surprised at what king armin's gonna do in part 2 😏

the dancing part UGH i was this close at making them kiss like COME ON BOY JUST FUCKING PUT YOUR TONGUE IN HER MOUTH ALREADY (now you know why i wrote TLS after this, i just have to write a lot of sex scenes to release my frustrations lol)

AAAHHHHH THANK YOU!!! I was worried that it was too long, like it was literally just 10k of sex (and then i wrote like 15k of kinky sex in TLS HAHAHAAH KILL ME)

THIS! THIS WAS MY FAVORITE SCENE EVER!!!! I LOVE MAKING THE LITTLE DETAILS!!!! and you'll see a similar scene like this in the epilogue for the last song 😏

OH THANK GOD I THOUGHT MY SMUT SCENES WERE JUST BLEH LOL honestly though i live for the fluff too. i might have to change my blog name to Fluff Fics for Eren Jaeger lol (or Angst Fics for Eren Jaeger, that seems about right)

personally, there are two scenes that i like the most, it's when eren protected her from lord roeg who tried to lay his hands on her, and when they made out in the library. i just love tender / aggressive knight eren like he can be sweet and nasty at the same time MMMmmmhHhhh YEAH that's my stuff right there

AAAHHH YOUR COMMENTS ARE JUST *CHEF'S KISS* THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THIS SERIES JOLIIII I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUU

[fanficsandfluff]

The Snyder Cut: Headcanons (mostly of the tickly nature)

Bruce Wayne (Batman) ~ Batfleck, my love

He’s such a lover boy, and I can say that though I don’t exactly know how to explain what I mean. You just gotta understand.

He cares so strongly about EVERYONE. e v e r y o n e. Alfred, fucking loves the guy, jokes with him. The fucking “This is Alfred, I work for him.” MY MAN, STOP!

I think he just really wants to get along with everyone and wants everyone to get along in general.

But he lowkey crushes on Diana (at least in his mind, he’s keeping it lowkey, but we all see what’s happening)

I love the idea of this big hunk of a man getting soft with someone like Diana. 

She makes him genuinely laugh this one time by saying something funny, and then they’re both laughing together. 

Bruce definitely has one of those laughs where he throws his head back and shit and you can see his like Adam’s apple bobbing and everything.

But that’s if he’s really laughing.

And he has loud “HA”’s that are like really short but loud and then he kinda just snickers to himself for a while, holding his stomach.

And dude, the scene in freaking uhh… i think it’s BvS I’m not 100% (maybe i fucking imagined it who knows) where she like comes over to him and is fixing his wound….. tickle scenario hand picked from the gods right there

I can see a whole, “Woah!” from Bruce when Diana traces her fingers on some sensitive skin. And that Gal Godot smile is on her in an INSTANT. 

Bruce will laugh if he’s with the right person. Like I headcanon that if he’s being tickled, he will laugh if it’s done by Diana or Barry, then like he’ll be forced to laugh if it’s Clark bc he overpowers the poor bat, but then he just has these hilarious bouts of angry growls and chuckles if Arthur is going after him. 

I can’t even write about Batfleck being a ler because I will literally explode, so I’m done here 

(((((butseriouslyifanyonewantstotalklerbatfleckwithmehmuplz)))))

Diana Prince (Wonder Woman) 

I know the GIF isn’t from ZSJL but just let me live, ok? (Also I couldn’t find the one of Gal wiggling her fingers YOU KNOW THE ONE I’M TALKING ABOUT)

First off, Gal is the most horrible queen of giggles. I’ve seen those blooper reels. My god, girl, how do you keep getting hired?

SHE HAS SUCH A BIG SMILE IT’S LIKE THE ROCK IDK HOW THEIR TEETH AND MOUTH GET SO WIDE LOOKING

Diana will start tickle fights without a doubt.

She’s already very trustful and I also feel pretty handsy with people, especially those she may feel close to. So if she’s playful, you best watch out.

Her favorite targets are Bruce and Barry. I will not take criticism. Diana attacking Barry and reducing him to panicky shrieky laughs is my #1 thought. It’s not even living rent free, I’m commissioning it to be there.

Diana is one to laugh with her victims. She will wreck them and have a great time doing so. 

She’ll be ticklish if she wants to be, but it isn’t often she gets pinned and tickled or anything like that.

The guys try to stay away from her or not go after her with tickles for fear of retaliation.

AQUAMAN, CYBORG, SUPERMAN, AND THE FLASH UNDER THE CUT

Arthur Curry (Aquaman)

So…. my man isn’t really ticklish. I really don’t think he is, I feel like his Atlantean genes make his skin a special kind of hard, if that makes sense?

THAT BEING SAID ARTHUR IS THE BIGGEST LER OMGGG

He’ll try and act all cool and ‘whatever’ around the League cuz that’s kind of his persona.

But he slowly gets to like them more and more and his playful side starts to come out.

He’ll tickle Barry out of pure annoyance. Like if Barry makes any kind of comment, he’ll just point his finger out and get that glint in his eye and Barry is sprinting for the hills.

Here’s my favorite headcanon: Arthur will tickle Bruce because he knows it pisses him off when he does it. Bruce will fight back and keep Arthur in his sights at all time and curse and growl at him. And Arthur thinks it’s hilarious.

Arthur as a ler will taunt and tease until the cows come home

“Huh, big guy? What’s that? Ahawww that’s what I thought!... Not so fast/tough/etc. now!... I will wreck you.”

Victor Stone (Cyborg)

Unfortunately… not ticklish. :(

But this boy has the sweetest laugh you will ever hear, and I will die on that hill. 

Now that he has friends (superpowered friends, no less), he can slowly come alive and be himself. 

I can see Victor not getting involved in tickle fights at first, but at a certain point he’ll be all like, “Okay, step aside so we can do this right” and just PIN THE SHIT OUT OF WHOEVER IS BEING TICKLED. His extra robot arms are killer!

Okay, when he laughs for the first time in front of the group, there’s that cliche moment of pause where everything stops and everyone just stares and listens to him. It’s so rare to hear him laugh because the poor kid barely even smiled around them in the beginning. 

He SMIRKS

Now hear me out on this…

Okay, so half a face. Great. Weird. We love it. But you can see all of mischievous Victor when the guy SMIRKS. You see his eye squint and you can swear his robot eye gets a gleam of a different color. 

Wait honestly as I was writing that, the thought of Victor’s eye and like his apparatus changing color based on his mood is golden.

Me sitting here, lowkey wishing Victor’s robot body had some kind of cuddly mode like Baymax lmfaoooo 

Like the defense mode his body went into when he was around resurrected Supes, but for cuddles and being cute.

Clark Kent (Superman)

I was debating even including any headcanons for Superman bc I don’t care about him much, honestly.

I am v happy they kept in the whole ‘him staring at Flash through the speed storm’ scene bc I laughed so hard at that the first time i saw Josstice League in the theater. 

Also I didn’t really like the black superman costume??? I’m not a comic buff, so I’m assuming that’s why. I am like the one person who missed the color from the Josstice League cut. Don’t miss the stupid red sky in the finale, but I miss every other ounce of color that was just SUCKED right out of the Snyder Cut.

Clark and Bruce are besties now, I don’t make the rules. Bruce bought the man his house back. By buying the bank. He’ll take care of him.

And I’ve always simped for those two ever since BvS, bc I’ve already written like two fics where they tickle each other. 

Clark overpowering Bruce to tickle the shit out of him makes me so happy lol. Big strong boy Batfleck looking thiccc over here… but put him against Superman and he’s donezo. Because as mentioned earlier, I do think Bruce is pretty ticklish. 

But Clark can have his lee side when he’s feeling nice

He’s got that mighty chuckle, almost like how Thor might laugh. 

And he really likes getting involved in tickle fights with the League. He knows all of them are sorta afraid of him on the daily anyway, but have that power added to a tickle fight and it’s fun as hell. 

He’s gotten taken down by them ONCE. And I mean exactly (1) O N C E.

They all teamed up. Bing, bang, boom. Pinned him to the floor and they each took an area of skin and fucking SQUEEZED AND WIGGLED. They were trying to incapacitate him as quickly as possible. And dangummit, he laughed a lot! Like Clark realized just how ticklish he could feel if he wanted to feel it. 

And don’t even get me started on Lois, he’s big on getting her to giggle and she likes toying with him and running her hands all over his body (bc who wouldn’t?)

Barry Allen (The Flash)

I waited to write about Barry last because I have so much to say about this character....

and then I fell asleep and waited until the next day to write anything down about him so now I’m totally not in the mood and I forgot all the salient points I was planning on making.

fuck you, michelle.

I got a weird relationship with this character. He was mad annoying in the Josstice League. Thank goodness they trimmed his bad jokes down.

But now....

when he got hurt at the end and he was like crying and shit oh my god I wanted to hug him

His character got so... good

And I’m now at the right age where I can think about myself in a relationship with this character with no changes or shame

We both out here trying to find that one good job after college and everything

BARRY JUST WANTS FRIENDS, GUYS

HE’S THAT CUTE

And then he got this whole found family schtick with the Justice League!!! Lookit him!!! Thriving!

He has total little brother energy

like, pesky little brother. Bothers everyone, looks over people’s shoulders while they’re deep in thought or concentrating on something.

Asks a lot of questions.

All the more reason for the gang to want to tickle the shit out of him.

Barry just reads like a super ticklish lee. Like his whole character.

Maybe touch starved because he said he needed friends, and I don’t think he has siblings??? (sorry if i’m wrong about that, comic fans)

I already named some of my fav headcanons about him getting tickled by like Diana and such, and I’m sticking with it.

Barry does flee. He runs away with super speed.... but sometimes he just kinda wants the tickles so he lets them have at him. 

The chase is all part of the fun with tickling Barry, though. That’s what makes it so entertaining. And Barry isn’t afraid to be a little shit about it either. He will super-speed around his pursuers and poke their sides and tickle them back really quickly before they even know what’s happening. 

Barry doesn’t exactly hold back his laughter lol. He’ll protest and scream and squirm like crazy, but once he’s actually tickled, he loses it.

Pure boy. With funny ass facial expressions.

And it really doesn’t help that I never realized just how hot Ezra Miller is, even though I heard he’s not a great person irl. Oh well.

THAT’S ALL FOLKS!

Please please let me know if y’all have things to add, to squee over, to question me about... please. anything. i’m here for you. thanks for reading, guys!

[mega-aulover]

Soulmates at 2

For @norbertsmom  happy birthday! my Head-canon of Peeta’s and Katniss first real cute meet as toddlers. 

Rated G.

The bell of the bakery rings as it opens. Bing Mellark hears the bell but ignores it as today his baby boy, Peeta was in the bakery with him during operating hours. At fourteen months he still hasn't walked but he talked saying words like dada, yum, and good- well that's what Bing imagined hi little one said. Peeta was such a sweet boy, offering a million watt gummy smile to all. Currently he was happily playing with dough. Unlike his other two, Peeta loved the bakery he was happiest whenever he found himself downstairs.

"Bing," his father said poking his head in the back.

"Yeah."

"We need more dinner rolls," his father said.

"Coming right up dad," Bing said.

Peeta laughed as squished the dough.

His father smiles the moment he sees Peeta. "Ah, my namesake."

"Dad, did you help the customer."

"Peacekeeper, looking for bread."

Bing sighed.

The knock at the backdoor caused Bing to smile. He opened the back door, "Jack, and is that…"

Jack Everdeen the man who married the woman he once loved, the woman who chose to the harsh life in the Seam over a life as a Merchant. Bing wasn't resentful, because Diana was happy. Actually, she was ecstatic when she gave birth to her firstborn.

"This is my Katniss," Jack said proudly. Katniss clung to his neck.

"She's beautiful," his dad said.

His father was right, Katniss had her father's olive skin tone dark hair. Round cheeks wide curious grey eyes. Bing could see her mother Diana in her pert nose and small lips.

"Thank you, sir,' Jack says.

"Come in, come in," my father said. It was odd seeing him so accepting of Jack. His father held responsible for Jack responsible for Diana running away and Mara stepping into marrying him. Mara wasn't the easiest person to live with and she and his father did not get along.

"Here to trade?" Bing asks.

"Yeah,” Jack says as he nods. “Also I wanted to give Diana a day to rest without this troublemaker in the house."

"Who are we kidding,” Peeta senior said. “You're walking around showing off this little pretty lady."

“Dad!” Bing exclaims. 

"She's kinda shy," Jack said. But no sooner did he say it than Katniss catches sight of Peeta on the floor. She points down toward Peeta. Jack puts her down. She toddles over to Peeta and sits next to him.

Bing watches as his son stops playing, his little eyes are as wide as saucers when he spots Katniss. "Yum," Peeta says.

By now all three of them are watching them. Peeta grabs the dough and offers it to Katniss who laughs and coo's and takes the dough.

Peeta blushes deeply his little chubby arms flap as if not knowing what to do. He looks up at him as if asking for help. Bing takes a piece of hard bread and gave it to Peeta. His son takes the hard-cooked bread and hands it to Katniss.

Her little grey eyes open wide at the bread. Shyly she takes it then sticks it in her mouth. She smiles then offers it back to Peeta. Bing's eyes widened when his son took the bread and stuck it in his own mouth. Did they just have a toasting, Bing ponders?

Katniss clapped her hands laughing gleefully. She leans over, puts her little fingers on Peeta's face, her look fierce. Peeta takes the bread out of his mouth. His son is enchanted. All three men gasped when Katniss plants a kiss on Peeta's lips.

"Looks like we've got a pair of star-crossed-lovers," Peeta senior says grinning.

"Jack…" Bing began not knowing what to say. He bent down to pick up his son, who by now was holding Katniss in place as they are engaged in their own little world. They're sharing chaste innocent kisses.

Jack shook his head and put his hand on Bing's shoulder. "Let them." Jack blinked he had a far-off look. It was said Jack Everdeen had the second sight; he could see things in the future. "They're destined to be together. And none of us won't be there to help them. Let them have this time."

Bing stood back and nodded. As he stared at the little pair. He saw the way they stared at the other as if they were soulmates. He hoped that their future included love, laughter, and children. Maybe a little girl who looked like Katniss who danced in the meadow and a small boy who was the clone of his son. Stepping back he sighed this was the future. 

[notsolong-pause]

ship request

“Would I be able to get a male ship for stranger things and marvel? I’m female, a virgo and I have a few piercings and tattoos (full sleeves). I have long split color hair (black and neon yellow). I’m very confident. I love to joke around and make my friends laugh. I like to be around people who can make me laugh too. I’m very social around my friends but I’m pretty quiet around people I don’t know very well. I do fire eating as a hobby and I play the drums. I kind of low key like attention even when I act like I don’t. And I really love cheesy pick up lines especially if they’re funny. I also like to draw, go ice skating, go to concerts, watch horror movies, binge watch trash TV or just lay around listening to music. I have a pet parrot whom I love very much”

a/n: okay, first of all, you literally sound like this cartoon character we all aspired as children… fire eating  - that’s so sick! Also, I hope you enjoy this, and would agree with my choise, but I think you match perfectly.

If YOU want to submit a request, click here.

Stranger things:

I ship you with Steve Harrington

You like cheesy pick up lines? He delivers! First of all, he’s not the best at flirting, altough he acts all cool, and he was very popular... But let’s be honest, his main weapon are those pick up lines specifically. And you would come to Scoop Ahoy, where he would think you’re the coolest person INSTANTLY and be like “Know what's on the menu? Me-N-U”

Going to rescue or save someone, and understading eachother really well by making references to the horror movies. “Remember this movie we watched at your place?” “The one about the living puppet-serial killer” “Yeah! That one. We can do the same thing that the blonde girl did”.  “Absolutely!” And everyone else is like... whaaaaat

Driving to concerts to the other towns together. You would sing along to the songs in the car, and he would just sit with the heart eyes.

Him wanting to get a tattoo as well, because he loves yours tattoos sa badly. And you would tell him all about getting tattoos and treating them.

Him always bragging about you to everyone, because he genuinely believes that you’re the coolest person he knows. Telling Dustin all about how good you’re in music, how well you draw. And Dustin becoming your No1 fan after you perform fire eating once.

“Hey, loser!” You entered Scoop Ahoy, greeting Steve. “Hi, Robin!” The girl waved you and nudged Steve slightly. “Emm.. Ah, Hi!” He blinked and stopped staring at you so intensely. “You good, Harrington?” You asked smirking. “Peachy” He answered and tried to fix his hair immediately. “Alright, I’m gonna go change”. You eyed Steve suspiciously and headed to the back of the cafe to change into your sailor uniform. Honestly, it didn’t match you looks much, but the tattoos and the hair color definitely made it spicy.

“You’re drooling, Harrington”. Robin smirked at Steve. “That’s not true!” Steve protested. “Just ask her out already”. Robin groaned. “You’re getting annoying”. The boy turned back to the cashier and spoke again “I will. When you’re out of the cafe”. Robin thought for a second, and then tugged her hat down, and leaned on the same cashier. “Okay, I’m outta here! Ciao”. She slides under this cashier and headed towards the exit. “Wait, Robin! Where’re you going? Your shift isn’t over”. “Don’t care! Bye”

With that you appeared dressed in the blue shorts and a blouse. “Where did Robin go?” You questioned. “I wish I knew”. Steve sighed. “So...” He looked at you with hope. “What?” He looked almost as if you were supposed to know all the feelings and emotions behind the simple stupid “so”. He licked his lips at least 10 times in the past two minutes, and his eyes were going back pans forth to your face. At this point you were almost concerned about him. Steve always seemed so confident, that was the part of him that you admired. Now, in contrast, he was so nervous. “Are you sure that you are fine?” Steve gulped and inhaled sharply. “Positive. Look, I heard there was a new horrible movie in the theater, doyoumaybewannacomewithme?” You laughed. “Sure! Why not? Is it a date?” “Ah, erm, yeah, i guess... if you want, i mean i don’t...”

“Relax Harrington”, you said. “I would love to go out with you. Especially if the movie is as bad as you said it was”

Marvel:

I ship you with Peter Parker

He’s smitten by you and your confidence! And for some reason I can see the best friends to lovers dynamics. He would be all.. “Ahem... Look... I like you?”

Always arguing about who’s picking a movie for the movie night, and ending up watching what you wanted, because he can’t argue in the end.

He would help you to dye your hair, even though he wouldn’t know how. But you would tell him what to do, and he would be very nervous, but make it really pretty in the end.

Hanging out with him and Aunt May and slightly mocking him together with her. “Hey, Peter Tinkle!” “Saints! How did I earn this?”

You find out about him being Spider-man, when you go ice-skating together, and you trip, and he moves practically from another part of the lake (let’s imagine this is countryside) to catch you within a second. You’re very close. Awkward eye-to-eye contact. You smirk. “So that’s what you were hiding, huh?”

You were sitting on the fire escape of you apartment with Peter. It was almost night. One of those short and warm May nights in the city, when you can't even notice that it was here. It doesn't really get dark or quite - everyone is out, and the lights never turn off. Today you and Peter passed your last exam, and decided to celebrate, drinking coke on the fire escape while your parents were out of the city. "Do you think I would make a decent super hero?" You were swinging you legs, looking at the city.

"I bet you would be so much better of a super hero than I am", Peter sighed and chuckled lightly.

"Don't say that", you turned to him, "You're the best spider-man. Honestly, I think, you're my favorite hero", you layed your had on your hands.

"Like in the world?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Well, maybe second favorite after Black Widow", you laughed.

"Ouch! What's so special about black widow?" Peter leaned on the window behind him, taking a sip of his drink.

"First of all, she's badass. Then, she's a hero, even though she doesn't have any serums running through her veins. And finally, she's Russian, as far as I know. Isn't that epic?" You gestured actively, weighing up all the pros Natasha Romanoff. Peter smiled lighly at the sight of that.

"Okay", he said. "You win".

"That easily?" You eyed him suspiciously.

"Yeah, I like badass women, who can do some crazy dangerous stuff", he answered, tilting his head.

"Like what?"

"Like fire eating", he said simply, and you felt your face heat up a little.

"Are you hinting at certain someone?" You asked with a smirk.

He took a deep breath and sat up straightly. "I like you. A lot", he closed his eyes, apparantly, affraid of your reaction.

"Well, I guess, that makes you my favourite super hero after all".

I'm so sorry for the delay of doing your requests, guys. School has been crazy lately. I'm going to handle it all soon. Have a great day!

[connordavidscamera]

Slow Burning Love | Connor Brashier

A/n: okay this is literally from March and I don’t even remember writing this, but I’m a sucker for friends to lovers so this is what we’ve got.

Summary: Everyone knows that Connor and y/n are more than friends. It’s time they admitted it to themselves

Warnings: fluff, alludes to smut

Word count: 2.5k

***

It’s a familiar thing. Maybe not for everyone, but it’s familiar for me. You know, when you’re in between with someone. You’re not quite a couple, but you’re not just friends. But you don’t want to put a label on it because that gives it the opportunity to be bad. The opportunity to end. So it’s easier to just not think of it as a relationship. Even if you are technically, maybe, kinda, not really seeing each other. Seeing each other and no one else. But you’re not exclusive.

Yeah, that’s what Connor and I have been dealing with for I’d say about six years now. Since we were fourteen years old, and he was dared to kiss me in a god awful game of truth or dare that neither of us wanted to play. But we were pushed into the room with six of our other friends who were far too excited to see us kiss. It was a first for both of us. And I don’t know how it worked, but from there it was kind of an unwritten rule. I was his and he was mine, but we weren’t each other’s. It made absolutely no sense and it still doesn’t, if I’m being quite honest. 

We’ve hooked up a couple handfuls of times. And I can admit that I’ve only had sex with one other guy besides him. It was a one night stand sometime during my first semester of college. The guy only lasted about five minutes and I was forced to get myself off after he left. Connor took every opportunity to make fun of the incident, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s because he’s proud. Proud that he’s the only guy to have ever gotten me off. (Four times in one night, during one of our particularly needy fucking sessions.) But since we’ve only had sex five - okay, twelve, but who’s counting? - times, you can’t exactly call us fuck buddies because it isn’t a normal enough occurrence. We’re friends. Best friends. Best friends who have really enjoyed hearing our names slip from the other’s lips in a state of bliss. 

“I think your hair’s brushed now,” Connor says, coming into view behind me. I set my brush on the counter and smile sheepishly. 

“Just wanted to make sure.”

He nods. “I like the dress. But it’s getting a little chilly out.”

“Well then my best friend will give me his jacket, won’t he?” I tease, splitting my hair into three parts so I can braid it messily. 

“Who said I was bringing one?”

I roll my eyes, “You always have one in your backseat. Except for the one time where you had, gasp, two!”

He chuckles and bumps my hip with his, taking up the other half of my mirror to fix his messy hair. “What do you think? Do I look sexy?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and I can’t help but laugh. 

“Always,” I answer because it’s true. “Which perfume?” I tilt my chin toward my small area of perfumes on the corner of the counter. 

“Which one smells like vanilla?”

“They all kinda smell like vanilla,” I tell him. 

“No, it’s like a dark vanilla. It’s kinda seductive.”

I laugh. Seductive vanilla? What is this boy on tonight? “Black bottle,” I say, because even with his horrible description, I know exactly which one he’s talking about. I’ve become well versed in Connor speak over our sixteen years of friendship. 

He reaches for it and pops the cap off, taking a sniff from the spritzer. He nods approvingly, “That’s the one.”

I tie the elastic around the end of my braid and take the bottle from his hand. Spraying myself a couple times. “Is that enough?”

He places his hands on my hips and inhales behind my ear, his eyes closed. If I’m not mistaken, I think I hear a groan escape the back of his throat. “Perfect.” He pulls away and leans back against the wall. “Are we going in your car or mine?”

I shrug, “Doesn’t matter. You’re driving either way.”

“We’ll take mine then. You almost ready?”

“I just need my shoes.” I slip past him and skip to my closet. “You said it was gonna get cold?” I yell from my spot, not realizing that he followed me into my room and is now laying on my bed, phone in his hands. “Yeah. Little bit. So I wouldn’t wear sandals.”

“Pink low tops?” I ask, holding them up to my dress. “They match the flowers.”

He chuckles, “You’re the cutest thing. Yeah, baby. Those look good.” He sits up. “Hey, what mood are we in today?”

“Why?” I grab a pair of no show socks from my drawer and walk over to sit next to him. I set my shoes in his lap.

“So I know what playlist we need for the drive.”

I hum, “I don’t know. What are you feeling?”

He gives me the look. The one that says “are you seriously asking me that question?”

I roll my eyes, taking a shoe from him and untying it. “Tame Impala. I know.”

“What were you playing in the bathroom? Was that Halsey?”

I nod and take my other shoe from him. “Yeah. I’ve been binging her discography again.”

He nods, “Alright, then I know just what we need.”

“Who’s all going to this again?” I ask once we’re in his car and he connects his phone. 

“Honestly? I’m not even sure anymore. Shawn for sure, which means Brian too. I don’t know. My guess, there’s gonna be at least ten of us.”

---

There were more than ten. I didn’t know a good two thirds of them, but Connor was familiar with them which made me feel a little more at ease. But he’s somewhere near the water talking to a couple of guys so I wander, finding my way over to Shawn who’s strumming his guitar by the fire the group had started once the sun set. 

“Leave it to Mr. Rockstar to bring his guitar to the bonfire,” I tease, sitting next to him. 

“Would you expect anything less from me?” He asks with his award winning smile and stops strumming. 

“Absolutely not.”

“You having fun? Where’s Brashier?”

“Talking to some guys over there,” I tilt my head in their direction and Shawn nods. 

“Why aren’t you together?”

“We’re not together all the time,” I say.

“No,” he agrees. “But most of the time. Which leads to my next question. Why aren’t you together?”

I scoff and take a sip of my drink, suddenly wishing I had taken Sam up on his offer when he tried handing me a rum and coke that was definitely more rum than coke. “Because we’re not like that.”

“That’s not true.”

“And how do you know that, Mendes?”

“Because I see the way he looks at you. And the way you look at him. Neither of you are good at hiding it. You’re constantly eye-fucking each other. I’d be surprised if you haven’t fucked already.”

I take another drink, not dignifying him with a response, but he takes it as one.

“You have, haven’t you?” he chuckles. “Man, no wonder he never got laid on tour,” he mumbles that second part. I don’t think I was meant to hear it.

I shake my head, “Whatever. What were you playing before I interrupted?”

He smirks, “You know the song ‘what ifs’ by Kane Brown?”

I nod, “Yeah. That didn’t sound like it though.”

“Well it’s a very stripped down version of it,” he says. “Do you know it enough to sing it with me?”

I glare at him. “Did Connor tell you I could sing? Because he’s an ass and I cannot.”

He nods, “He did. He also showed me a video. You’ve got pipes.”

I gasp, “He has a video?!”

“He has multiple,” he confirms, nudging my leg with his. “Come on, sing it with me.”

I sigh, “Okay. Let me just pull the lyrics up. I’d rather not mess up horribly.”

“Alright. You’ll come in on the second verse.”

“Okay. Play it, Mendes.”

He starts strumming and now it sounds a little more like the song, I’ll admit. I don’t know how he does it, but he can play anything. “You say what if I hurt you / what if I leave you / what if I find somebody else and I don’t need you.” He’s only a few bars in and our crowd is already starting to assemble, making me way more nervous than I should be. But I mean, come on. I don’t usually sing around people I don’t know. “You say what if I break your heart in two then what / well I hear you girl / I feel you girl / but not so fast / ‘fore you make your mind up I gotta ask,” he tilts his head toward me, signaling for me to join in. 

“What if I was made for you and you were made for me / what if this is it / what if it’s meant to be / what if I ain’t one of them fools playing some games”

I take in a breath when the chorus ends and my eyes catch sight of Connor who’s standing in front of us, his phone out, recording. I stick my tongue out at him which makes him smile and do the same, but he doesn’t stop recording. I take another deep breath and look down at the lyrics, knowing that it’s just my turn now. Shawn gives me an encouraging nod and I take a leap of faith, diving in.

“What if the sky falls / or the sun stops burning / we can worry about the what ifs ‘til the world stops turning / or I could kiss you / what if you liked it / well we ain’t ever gonna know unless we try it,” and he’s back in it with me and I think I can breathe again knowing that not everyone’s eyes are solely on me. But I do feel one pair. And they belong to a boy with blue eyes, perfectly tousled hair and a phone pointed only at me. They belong to my best friend. 

My best friend who’s looking at me in a way that no best friend should. My best friend who is making my face burn from his stare. The stare that’s making me rub my thighs together because I’m suddenly imagining those eyes on me while we’re in bed and he’s between my legs, making me feel things that only he can make me feel. 

Damn him for being so so good between my thighs. 

I don’t notice that Shawn and I are no longer singing. Or that Connor’s now putting his phone back in his pocket. I don’t notice that I’m getting up, walking around the fire, determined to get to my favorite blue-eyed boy. And I definitely don’t let myself notice how he shivers when my hand latches to his bicep. 

“You okay?” he asks, his face etched with concern.

“Take me home,” I beg, pushing myself into his side

“What’s wrong?” He places his hands on my waist, staring intently at my face and then down my body, looking for any signs of physical harm, I assume. “Are you okay?”

“Bubba,” I beg again, resting my forehead against his chest. He stiffens. He knows that tone. He also knows that I only use that name when I’m needy. And god am I so needy for him. “I want you. I need you,” I whisper, my other hand tangling in the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Are you sure?” He’s still looking me over, making absolutely sure I’m not physically hurt. But then he’s looking around us, probably noticing that most everyone’s eyes are on us - not that I expected anything less. 

“Bubba, please. Please.” I bring his face down and I do something I would never do in public. I kiss him. I kiss him like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do. I kiss him like he’s the oxygen I need to survive, and not to be dramatic, but at this moment, I think he is.

And he kisses me back with just as much fervor. "Okay. Let's go home, baby."

Neither of us bother to say our goodbyes, mostly because anyone we would say bye to already had their eyes on us. They saw everything and you couldn’t mistake the beaming smiles coming from Shawn and Brian as we walked past them, Connor’s arm wrapped tightly around my waist. 

“Wait, Connor.” I press a hand to his chest when we reach the car. 

“What is it, baby?”

God he needs to stop calling me that because I will melt right here before I even get the words out. “I don’t,” I sigh. “I don’t want this to just be another hookup,” I say, my voice coming out just above a whisper.

“I don’t either,” he responds without hesitation.

“You don’t?” I look up at his beautiful eyes that are sparkling in the moonlight. 

He shakes his head before resting it on my shoulder. “I’ve wanted you since I was fourteen years old. Nothing,” he groans, peppering kisses to the side of my neck. “Nothing has changed.”

I gasp when his teeth graze my skin. “I want you. I want you.” He licks a stripe over the bruising spot. “I want you,” He mumbles, pressing his hips against mine so I can feel the bulge in his jeans. 

“Take me home, Connor. Please.” 

“Okay. Okay. Let’s go.” He opens the car door and I slip inside, desperate to get back to my place because I need him. I’m aching for him. And with the way his hand is firmly gripping my thigh the whole drive I wonder if I’ll even be able to make it home. 

He’s barely parked before we’re both rushing out of the car and into my place, his hands on my hips, his lips on my neck. When we finally get inside, he kicks the door shut before pushing me against it. “Baby, I need you to tell me that this is what you really want. Because I can stop now and we can -”

“I don’t want you to stop. I never want you to stop. Please,” I tug on his hair, covering his lips with mine. “Bubba please,” I whine, pulling on his bottom lip. “I want you,” I say for probably the thousandth time tonight.

He groans and grips my hips a little tighter. “You have me,” he confirms. “Let me take you to bed,” he mutters and drops his hands to the back of my thighs, lifting me up.

I squeal, wrapping my legs around his waist. 

“You’re in for a long night, baby.” He grins walking us to my bedroom

I nod, “Promise?”

He smirks, dropping me on my bed. He’s pulling my shoes off and then he’s between my legs, his jeans rubbing against my covered heat, causing me to moan out loud. “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” he says. “I can promise you that.”

***

I hope you enjoyed! Please like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

Permanent tag: @soyalimoncada-blog @tinycertain @magcon7280 @homeofpoetry @fallinallincurls @goldenflickerx @sinceweremutual @myyohmyuohmyy @harry-hollands @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @baroness-alison @lostinmendess @linanilssonfurberg @luvluvxx @mariamuses @shawnieeboyy @divinginfearlessly @mendesficsxbombay @shawnsthighs @zaahidahhh @adelaidestreets @shawnandconnor @shawnsblue @turtoix @honestlyimstilllivinginthe90s

Connor tag: @gangofhoes @verlaneswiftie13

[alphi-writes]

Ah! this is such a nice event idea (*´꒳`*)!! may i have hyacinth for idia and poppies for chenya? Please and thank you! I hope you’re having a nice day ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

(ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟThank you!! I hope you're having a nice day as well, moineau♡💐

Flowers: Hyacinth, Poppy

Characters: Idia, Che'nya

Idia Shroud

Idia is an introvert, no doubt about it, and he's easily flustered. It was no surprise that he freaked out when you confessed to him.

He was completely dumbfounded. You were this awesome person with extraverted friends and a whole life outside of school, and what was he?

He didn't see a single thing about him that you could see as attractive or even worth while, so for weeks he was just confused.

It's not like he did not like you, but he didn't think he was good enough for you.

"Ah, sorry for just confessing out of the blue, you don't have to accept it." He watched as you gave him a genuine smile, a smile that made his heart throb and his face burn.

"I-uhm I do like you..."

He stared at his feet, wringing his hands together while he waited for you to reply.

"You do? T-that's great! Oh uhm, we don't have to get together right off the bat if it makes you uncomfortable or anything." When he looked up, he could see that you had suddenly become a lot more flustered.

Your eyebrows creased and you were scratching the back of your neck.

"Let's, uh, try it out." He whispered so quietly that you barely heard him.

You nodded, smiling crookedly at him.

"Yea, okay!"

Since then, you'd only grown closer, as friends and as partners.

You would spend hours together, usually just in the same room doing your own thing, but knowing the other was there was good enough for you.

One day, when you'd invited Idia over to the ramshackle dorm, you had a fun idea in mind.

"Come on in, I even bought some candies."

He walked in and stopped in the living room, staring at the pile of pillows and blankets.

"What's.. going on?"

You walked in with a bowl of candy, setting it on the coffee table.

"Oh, I wanted to build a pillow fort with you today! Do~ you want to?" You gestured to the pile of blanket, putting your hands back on your hips.

"Y-yea actually that sounds great." He had already begun blushing.

A pillow fort? Pillow forts were a big part of his childhood, and depending on the manga, two lovers would build one together.

You instantly began setting up the bottom of the fort, where the two of you would lay. Idia picked up the memo and shuffled over to help.

You positioned chairs on either side of the fort and tied the blankets to them, creating the 'roof', and you even had fairy lights to hang up inside the fort.

When you finished laying everything out, you laid your laptop down and picked up the candy bowl.

"Okay, time to binge." You laid down in the fort and patted the spot next to you, signaling for Idia to follow suit.

He laid down, watching as you typed in the movie you were to watch.

It was a simple date, yea, but it was still one of your favorite past times. It didn't cost anything and you could still hang out with the person you cherished most.

Che'nya

You were doing your daily rounds in Heartslaybul, feeding the hedgehogs, watering the plants, making sure the Flamingos were healthy, all that.

You were currently watering the roses when a familiar face poked out from between the bushes.

"Good morning, Che'nya." You were still a bit groggy, but it appeared that the cat boy was anything but.

"What is Y/N doing today?"

You chuckled quietly at his speech, "Well, I suppose Y/N is doing their daily chores."

"Hmm, chores are boring, Y/N should come buy new socks with me!"

He tugged at your sleeve, hoping you would agree.

"Sorry Che'nya, not right now. I'll go once I'm done with chores." You gentle pulled his hand off.

Che'nya was beyond bored today, seeing as he had nothing to do, and sitting around watching you do chores would only make him even more bored.

"Chores are boooring~ Che'nya wants some socks!"

Sighing as you continued your work, you decided to pick up the pace just a bit. You did want to go with him today because honestly, you were pretty bored yourself as well.

"It'll take fifteen minutes, okay? Just be patient please."

He huffed, crossing his arms and slouching over. He decided that if he had to wait, then he could at least see what was so important about your chores.

I mean, what could be so important about some plants? Plants were everywhere in the wild! And they didn't need people taking care of them all the time, what made these plants so special.

"Here, look at these flowers, Che'nya." You pointed to a section full of the same flowers, but different colors.

"They're poppies, they mean imagination, so how about you use your imagination while I finish up my chores?"

Che'nya did have a vivid imagination, it was part of his charm.

He watched as you moved onto the next flowers before turning back to the poppies. What could he turn these little guys into, hm?

Maybe, he could give them faces.

When he thought about the flowers with faces, he laughed loudly.

The flowers grew faces and began dancing and singing. He snickered, waving his index fingers around and swaying to the music.

He began humming along to the familiar song, his tail swinging fiercely to match his uplifting mood.

"Che'nya." He stopped dancing and turned, spotting you standing in front of him with a small smile.

"You ready to go?" You offered your elbow to Che'nya, who happily hooked his elbow with yours.

"Were the flowers singing for you?"

"Yes! Flowers have such pretty singing voices!" You chuckled as he went on about the flowers.

While you walked, you intertwined your fingers with his and brought his knuckles to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to them.

"Well then I'd love to get to hear their singing voices with you one day."

[nad-zeta]

Hello, hello, hello! I loved your head canons about the warlords' ages and I wonder if you can write head canons of the warlords' profession, not in modern AU but the warlords deciding to go to the future with MC and well, the profession they would have!! Thank you so muuuuuuuuuch. 💕

Hi hi, love! 🌻Thank you sooo much for the ask! This is legit my third time writing this up, the first time I did this, I forgot to save the word file, and the second time my laptop crashed right after I finished writing it😭....... But finally, here it is🌻! I’m so happy you liked my HC, I hope you enjoy this one, and I hope you have a good day! ❤🔥

Headcanon: Warlords and their future jobs 

Nobunaga

I think the second Nobunaga arrives in the future he would become a businessman

He would start off small from your apartment, but within the month he will turn into the biggest corporate leader, having thousands of people working under him

He would spend the first few weeks just chilling in the future with you but soon start to get bored

He would also, low key feel like its wrong for you to be supporting both of you

He does some research on stock trading and then starts playing around with your life savings

Good thing for you, Nobunaga is a clever man, and he manages to triple the money in a week by playing around on the stock market

He uses the income made, to start a small business, which soon starts growing at the speed of light

This man will not be able to work for someone so I can definitely see him being the CEO of his own company

He will be the ruler of the corporate world in no time

It’s pretty funny how in the span of a year he has earned the old name he once carried in the past “Devil king.”

Masamune

This is a no brainer

Obviously he will be a chef

I think he would start off small like finding a job at a local café but then soon take the culinary world by storm

It started off when the two of you went to eat at one of your favourite cafes

He enjoyed the food so much, he couldn’t help but pop into the kitchen to thank the chef (◕‿◕✿)

The kitchen was absolute mayhem and the chef had told him that he was very short-staffed

And that is how Masa got his first future job

He worked in the café for a few months picking up experience and learning to use all the futuristic equipment

From there, he bounced around from place to place learning all sorts of cool culinary techniques

I think at the end of the day he will most likely open his own restaurant

One that specializes in authentic Japanese cuisine

Hell I wouldn’t be surprised if he opened a branch of the restaurant in Nobunagas company

Mitsunari

I can see this cutie angel being a teacher or professor

I think he would be a great academic and educator

I can actually, see this boi being a professor teaching all sorts of subjects from statistics to the art of war ヾ(●ε●)ノ

The first few weeks of being in the future with you, he spends in the library absorbing as much knowledge as possible

One day while he is sitting and reading up on every and any subject, he overhears a group of struggling professors at a nearby table

Apparently they had been trying to solve a certain equation for months now but to no luck (ﾉಠдಠ)ﾉ︵┻━┻

Mitsunari walks up to the group and cheerily asks if he can be of some assistance (◕ᴗ◕✿)

Usually the group would just laugh and chase the random stranger away but desperate times…

They hand Mitsunari the equation and this clever boi takes one look at it and starts writing out the answer

The math professors were sister shook… Like he didn’t even freaken, need a calculator (◯Δ◯∥)

They legit offered him a job as a lecturer and he soon becomes the students’ favourite absent minded professor (◕‿◕✿)

I think he will most definitely also publish a few research papers as well and contribute to the body of knowledge in all sorts of subjects

Ieyasu

Also super easy he will either be a vet or a doctor although I am leaning more towards veterinarian cause of his love for animals

He will most likely join Mitsunari in university, cause he is a super-smart porcupine he will become a certified vet in no time

Also spends the first few weeks of being in the future at the library absorbing as much medical knowledge as possible

He gets the idea of becoming a vet after watching a bunch of animal rescue shows on the national geographic channel 

While you are at work he starts volunteering at an animal rescue during the day to pass the time

That is where he met one of the vets that help out at the rescue in their free time, he legit liked Ieyasu so much he took him on as an apprentice, while Ieyasu was busy completing his studies

Later on he will most likely have his own veterinary practise

I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he starts his own animal rescue on the side as well

Within two years the two of you move to live on a big plot with all yours and Ieyasus rescued pets

Hideyoshi

Hideyoshi could go one of two ways hehe 

If Nobunaga comes to the future with yall then you best be sure this boy is ganna help Nobunaga rule the corporate world

Buuuut if it’s just the two of you, I 100% see him becoming a primary school teacher

Like he would just be so good with kids

He is basically trademarked as mama hen anyways, so why not put him in a primary school to teach lil chics

I think he would be such a good teacher, supportive, kind, and patient

He has enough practise lecturing Nobunaga for bad behaviour, so he might as well put that to good use correcting the behaviours of troublesome kids

He gets into teaching when your sister drops her kid off at your apartment to babysit

You had work, so the only one that could care for the child was, the mother hen himself

He sat and taught the little boy how to read and write, this impressed your sister so much that she recommended him for the position of substitute English teacher at her child’s school

At first Hideyoshi worked as a substitute teacher, but soon he became the designated aftercare teacher and within a few months he was teaching his own class

The children absolutely adored him although they would sneak behind the school building to eat candy cause, they didn’t want to get yet another lecture from Yoshi on the negative health consequences of their favourite sugary treats

Mitsuhide

100% detective (¬‿¬)

I mean can you just imagine how sexy he would look in a trenchcoat… like OMW (づ￣ ³￣)づ

The first few weeks of spending time with you in the future you introduce him to CSI and Law and order and he is super fascinated

You are so amazed by the fact that he can figure out who the perp is 5 minutes into the show

The crime in your neighbourhood was pretty bad, but since Mitsuhide’s arrival something crazy happened 

The crime seemed to disappear. 

Like no more robberies, no more drunks walking up and down the street, just peaceful quiet calm neighbourhood 

One day as the two of you were buying snacks for your CSI bingeing session, two armed men came into the convenience store 

You looked over at your lover who seemed completely unphased, like one of the robbers were legit pointing a gun in his face, yet Mitsuhide looked uninterested

Within a blink of an eye, Mitushide managed to disarm the men and tie them up 

The police were hella impressed with the way Mitsuhide handled things 

He helped the police department solve a few petty crimes in your neighbourhood and soon they started calling him up, to help them crack some difficult cases

After a while he becomes the most famous and popular detective in town

The government low key recruits him as an agent to help them

Kenshin

Again I don’t see Kenshin working for anyone

I think the first few weeks the two of you arrive, bunnies start following him around

Looks like the bunny lord is never safe from the love of the cute fluffy creatures 

The two of you will definitely be living on a bunny farm

Kenshin, although he doesn’t admit it, has a soft spot for the cute fluffy creatures 

So the bunny farm is actually more of a bunny rescue although that’s just his part-time job

As he adapts to the future, I can see the farm transforming into being a bunny and sake farm

Lol Kenshin loves Sake so much 

He knows how good sake should taste, so naturally he starts to make his own and sell it

This starts one day when a friend of yours invites the two of you to a sake tasting

The instructor was so impressed with Kenshin’s keen sense of taste that they got to talking and before Kenshin knew it, he had two people willing to sponsor him, to start his own sake brand

Naturally he never backs down from a challenge

He actually goes on to become the largest Sake producer and bunny rescue

Yukimura

I can legit see this boy doing something active like being a firefighter or gym instructor- cause lets be real this boi is ripped

Or actually maybe both

The first few weeks of being in the future he managed to save 2 peoples lives by fearlessly running in a burning building

The firefighters were legit so impressed they decided to take him on as an intern

He got some of the perks, i.e. free gym membership to stay fit

That’s when he started giving out a few pieces of advice to the people around him

“Like seriously dummy, don’t you even know how to do a proper squat, u legit ganna hurt your back if ya keep doing it like that.”

The members of the gym appreciated his advice so much, some of them started paying him to become their instructor, and soon the gym decided to hire him part-time

Now when Yuki isn't running into burning buildings saving people he is training people in the gym 

Best be sure he is gonna drag you to the gym with him

Shingen

Hehe I’ll admit I’m not too sure what this boi would get up to in the future

I think the first few weeks will be spent with you just adapting and getting to know everything

I think he would continue on with his carpentry

He kinda starts to notice your apartment is furnished in super cheap furniture

You tell him you are just a student in this time and don’t really have money to buy anything fancy

He buys a few cheap pieces of wood and starts furnishing your apartment with the most beautifully crafted furniture

Some of your friends visit the two of you and notice the remarkable craftsmanship and start commissioning him to make them some furniture

After a while he becomes the best carpenter in town

Goes on to open up a shop selling the different furniture he makes

I can see him hiring people in need, and that need a fresh start and then teaching them the trade to be able to make something of themselves

I can also see him volunteering at rescues and fostering bear cubs cause he misses his so much

I hope you enjoyed this dear and thanks again for the ask! ❤❤🔥🌻

[milkybonya]

Hiii! Could you do nct watching anime with you? (Like kakegurui, Haikyuu, or other Netflix animes?)

Hi I am the ask before and I just realized I'm an idiot and didn't put the subunit, so could you do nct 127 headcannon to watching anime with you, like kakegurui, haikyuu, etc (as friends not in a relationship plz)

first of all, you’re not an idiot >:o second of all, thank you for requesting! and third of all, i hope you enjoy hehe (p.s. i have not watched anime in a long time, but i tried my best to research T-T i’ve heard so many good things about Haikhyuu!)

NCT 127 watching anime with you

Warnings: food mentions 

Taeil

i don’t know why i feel like he’ll be into softer animes?

like i could definitely see him enjoying Haikyuu!

but stuff that is a little scarier/on the action side, he would still watch but maybe won’t enjoy as much?

but as long as he’s spending some time with you, that’s all that matters!

gets super into the anime and starts yelling when something he doesn’t like happens

tries to sing the opening theme song but many keys higher

also tries imitating the characters

“[y/n], do you think Hinata’s hair would suit me?”

wants to play volleyball after watching Haikyuu

Johnny

honestly open to watching any animes and has a pretty basic knowledge of them already

gets really inspired by how pretty some scenes are

watches you as you watch the anime because he likes to see your reaction ;3;

says “woah!” every time something cool happens

��play the next one, play the next episode! come on, we don’t have all day!”

i can picture him in a grey hoodie, wearing the hood up and sitting in this weird position that he claims is comfortable as he watches

wants to hear you talk about your favourite animes because he gets happy seeing you excited

Taeyong

he likes Howl’s Moving Castle so if you also like Studio Ghibli, binge watching those movies every weekend would be a ritual!

starts getting into other animes as soon as you introduce him

he’ll enjoy all kinds of anime!

i feel like he’ll be quiet when watching but his facial expressions will say it all

it will just be both of you sitting still, silently watching

then after each episode ends, you both talk about your thoughts before watching the next one :]

even though you don’t speak very much during the episodes, being there and hanging out together helps to relax you both after a long day :”)

would be interested in cosplaying with you if you’d want to!

Yuta and Winwin

OKAY HEAR ME OUT!!

Yuta is a known lover of anime and he likes watching it with Winwin so :] imagine the three of you as friends making time to watch anime together

Sometimes Winwin just gets tired and wants to watch One Piece on his own

so you and Yuta power through together

or you go join Winwin if that’s what you prefer

he’ll get very excited if you also like One Piece!

but Yuta will be sad if you leave him alone :(

when you stay with Yuta, he’ll be such a pro when watching the anime

like “i knew this was gonna happen..” and the two of you make bets predicting what will happen next

and Winwin also joins in if he’s there hehe

Winwin will be more of a quiet, content watcher who just enjoys the feeling of sitting down and watching anime with you

and always asking for your thoughts after each episode

Yuta will be super into it, always asking for your thoughts too and pointing out things he likes

i feel like Yuta would also enjoy cosplaying if you’d ever want to do it with him :D

Doyoung

i think Doyoung would like really wholesome animes

like animes that just make you feel good! 

so he’ll definitely enjoy Haikyuu

i would also say Fruits Basket but there’s animals in there and he’s afraid of them so ??

really intrigued by animes that involve a lot of combat, fighting and are more serious, tho

Kakegurui, too!

would just be really interested in whatever anime you show him and would be excited as he sees the plot come together

would develop a crush on an anime character LOL

and makes you buy their merch for his birthday ;3;

Jaehyun

he enjoys basketball, so i think he would like sports animes like Haikyuu, basketball ones like Dear Boys and Slam Dunk, and other ones too!

could also see him liking Kakegurui

either way i think he just enjoys sitting back to watch something, whatever it may be :o

especially if it’s with you!!

seriously thinks you’re so wholesome for liking anime and watches it with you whenever you’re excited to share it with him

he’ll get really into the sports animes and gets sad when his favourite characters lose

stands up every time they win, though, and reaches out to give you a high-five :D

Jungwoo

“[y/n] are you really starting the episode when i haven’t even grabbed any snacks yet?”

pls let him have his dinner/lunch/snacks ready before you start watching or he’ll be sad :(

loves soccer so he’ll probably enjoy soccer animes like Hungry Heart and Whistle!

will also enjoy Haikyuu hehe

waiT imagine him watching Food Wars while also stuffing his face

and then you make fun of him by telling him that he’s basically the live action of the anime

and then he gets angry but his mouth is full so he accidentally spits and you laugh harder and he just continues being like >:(

Mark

immediately i can imagine him enjoying Your Lie in April and getting really excited to watch the episodes with you

tries his best to not watch ahead without you and gets upset if you ever do :(

gets a little emotional during the anime sometimes but claims that his eyes are just sweating

hits your arm lightly a lot when he’s excited or amazed

rewinds whenever you miss something because he claims that the coolest thing just happened and you need to see it too

really loves watching your favourite animes with you because he likes to hear your thoughts about the plot and characters

vibes out to the opening theme

Haechan

i feel like he would enjoy Kakegurui and Sword Art Online, Attack on Titan, those kinds of vibEs because he likes video games :D

like Jungwoo, needs some snacks before each episode starts

i could also see him enjoying One Piece :D

imitates all the characters with unique voices to a point where it gets annoying because he’s doing it all the time

stands for the opening theme as if it’s the national anthem

places his hand over his heart and sings along but then it turns into him aggressively dancing

always rooting intensely for his favourite characters

i can see him lying on his stomach with his feet in the air while he watches :”)

[mydearestreaderfanfics]

Rather Be (Keith x Reader)

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, pining, light angst (with a happy ending)

Word Count: 4,858

Prompt/Request: wb an imagine with my boy keef and a childhood best friend crush,, bonus for blushy flustered keef lmao

Summary: An old promise from their childhood brings back old feelings. When both Keith and the reader fail to communicate, though, will the promises from the past be kept?

Author's Note: Rather Be by Clean Bandit is the musical accompaniment for this fic. What do you guys think, should I add on a song for all fics/fic requests?

Author: Mod Alex

“Keef!”

The young boy dropped his toys and turned around to see his best friend. Although he’d never admit it, he loved the way they mispronounced his name, it was… cute. “(Y/n)! What are you doing here?”

“I came to make a deal.” You held out a paper to him, an adorably serious look on your face.

“A deal?” He took the paper, looking over the crayon written words. The writing was messy and mistake-ridden, but it didn’t matter to Keith, what mattered was that it was a proposal to Keith, a marriage proposal.

“You are my bestest friend ever. So, I’ve decided that if I’m not already married in twenty years, which is like a million years away anyway, then we should get married.”

Keith’s surprise turned into a smile which turned into a laugh. “(Y/N), you’re only 7-”

“And a half! You're only 4 months older anyway, I’m basically 8 like you!”

“Okay, you’re 7 and a half, but shouldn’t you wait until you're older to get married.”

“I am, didn’t you read it? It says 20 years away,” you pointed at a large blue 20, “see? Right there.” You huffed crossing your arms and looking down, your serious face crumbling as you toed at the dirt.

“Okay.” Keith figured if he did want to marry someone one day it should be you.

“Okay?” You looked up, failing to mask your surprise.

“Yup. Oh, I think we need to sign this, right?”

“Oh, right!’ You fished two crayons out of your pocket, handing him the red one, and keeping your favorite colored one for yourself. After setting the paper on the sandbox’s lining you both signed, sealing a contract that would be forgotten for a long time. 19 years to be exact.

-

You were going through some old things of yours (your parents had asked you to come home to see what you wanted to keep and what you wanted to toss as they needed your old room cleared since they were planning on moving). As you were in the process of going through your childhood stuff, you stumbled across your old treasure chest filled with drawings, toys, and crumpled at the very bottom-- a wedding certificate. You laughed as you pulled it out, flattening it as best as you could. Keith absolutely had to see this. After tugging out your phone you sent him a quick message to hurry over.

Keith got there not even twenty minutes later looking for you somewhat panicked. After an apology and a brief explanation, he calmed down. Actually, he was pretty amused. “I can’t believe you told me I was going to marry you.”

“Hey! You’re the one that agreed.” The both of you were laughing as Keith looked over the paper.

“According to this, we’re supposed to get married in a couple weeks.” Keith grinned at you, blushing slightly from what you assumed was second-hand embarrassment from your younger selves.

“Oh gosh, so it does.” Your giggle fit picked up again, as you continued to speak through it. “Guess we have to get married. A contract is a contract, as they say.”

“I’ve never heard that saying, I’m not entirely convinced you didn’t just make that up.”

You held your hand to your chest, barely containing your grin. “Are you, Keith Kogane, saying I’m making things up?”

“Oh absolutely.” He smiled, not even trying to hide his smile.

You gasped dramatically. “How rude.” The paper in your hand caught your attention once more. “Why did you sign it? Way back then, I mean.”

“Why?” Keith took the paper from you, smoothing out some of the worst folds and eyeing it fondly. “How could I not? You came up to me that day and I vaguely remember feeling intimidated-“

“What?! By me?! Your friend?!”

“Well, sure. You came up to me holding this sheet of stark white printer paper- which has seen better days now, but back then it looked official-“

“Kind of what I was going for,” you laughed.

“Right. So any way you come marching up with an official-looking piece of paper and then basically declare that you were going to marry me. And I was intimidated. I mean there was this person I liked-“ Keith fumbled over his words, speaking more quickly after his accidental confession, “and they were asking me to marry them. It was a time of very strong intimidation.” He laughed awkwardly, hoping you hadn’t caught his blunder. “Anyway what are you going to do with this?”

“Wait! You liked me?!”

“I- um- yeah…” He fiddled with the edge of the paper before handing it back to you, noticeably uncomfortable.

“Wow.” The word came out as more of a sound than an actual statement. “I’m just- I can’t believe it. I guess since we signed this I’ll have to keep it. Just, y'know, in case I don’t fall madly in love with some rando within the next three weeks.” You spoke clearly, although your voice did have a slightly teasing tone. It wasn’t mean, though, far from it, if anything it sounded kind of flirty. You hoped Keith understood you were being genuine.

He flushed. “Yeah, maybe… Hey, I’ve got to head out, Shiro’s having this thing and he asked me to go. I’ll see you later?”

“Sounds good. Maybe Sal’s tonight?”

“Sure.” Keith grabbed his bag and basically bounded out of the room, face aflame.

You felt a little guilty about flustering him so much, but really you were feeling quite overwhelmed yourself. Keith and you’d been friends since basically the day you were born and yeah, you’d had a crush on him, and yeah, maybe you still did. But you couldn’t just come out with it. Besides, there was no way he liked you still anyway. You’d gotten a rise out of him for your own amusement (and maybe to see if he still had feelings for you), but you were certain it was just his embarrassment at the situation that made him so flustered. You were a little crushed, to be honest. To be completely truthful you wanted to do nothing more than bottle your feelings up and binge video games all night to forget the awkwardness you’d just set in place, but no, you had already asked Keith to meet you at Sal’s.

-

By the time evening rolled around and it was time to head to Sal’s you had worked yourself into a pit of guilt and regret. Keith wasn’t there when you got there. So you took up residence in the lone booth at the back where the two of you usually sat. Ten minutes had passed before you saw your friends Shiro and Matt walk in. Keith still wasn’t here so you waved them over. They seemed happy enough to see you, you were happy to see them too, even if you had been hoping they had Keith with them. They didn’t.

“(N/n), hey! Is Keith with you?” Shiro grinned, leaning down to side hug you before sliding in opposite you. Matt slid in next to you pulling you into a hug that quickly became a noogie.

“Gah! Matt what the hell, what are you five?” You shoved away from him, giving him the bird as you turned back to Shiro. “No, he was supposed to meet me here like half an hour ago, I thought maybe he was with you.”

“I haven’t seen him since this afternoon.”

“Shit. Did he seriously stand me up?”

“Oh? Did you two finally confess your undying love for each other? And here I thought we had something, (N/n).” Matt lounged against you and you grumbled despite smiling at the dramatic man.

“First of all shut your mouth. Second of all, you know you’re the only one for me.” Shiro barked with laughter and Matt nuzzled in closer to you and you rolled your eyes playfully at the act. “Jesus, you’re being worse than usual, are you drunk?”

“He’s got a buzz.”

“Ah. That makes sense then. Matt, my darling lover, I need you to get your bony ass elbow out from my rib cage.” He laughed as he sat back up.

Though he had been smiling at the antics of his friends only moments prior, Shiro was quick to take up the serious role. “Wait, so you haven’t seen Keith since this morning.” You nodded. “Did something happen between the two of you?”

You flushed, this was the conversation you were hoping wasn’t going to happen. Still, you couldn’t lie to Shiro, the man was pretty much a human lie detector to his friends. “Kind of… I found this dumb thing from when we were kids this morning and I think it upset him.”

Shiro cocked his head to the side. “But Keith loves looking through things from your guy’s childhood.”

“Well, I think maybe it was more so what I said about it. I may have been a bit out of line with my joking.”

“What’d you say?” Math looked at you, eyes widened.

You buried your head in your hands to hide your face. “I may have implied we should get married.” Both Matt and Shiro broke into a fit of laughter at your expense and you groaned. “Guys shut up! Look I didn’t know what else to do, he told me he used to have feelings for me and I guess I was just feeling bold. I’ve been beating myself up for it all day.”

Shiro caught his breath, quietening his chuckles momentarily. “He told you that? And I assume it’s safe to say that you're referring to the fake proposal back in- oh gosh, I want to say first, maybe kindergarten?”

“Second-grade, and yeah. I mean, what would you do? You know how I feel about Keith and it was like he was saying the very thing I wanted to hear for basically all of my life and then he bails the second I reciprocate. The only thing I can think is that I fucked up, which honestly let's be real, is probably the case. And now he’s uncomfortable around me, and I don’t know what to do.”

Shiro blinked, face going slack. “Oh, wow. Okay. I can’t believe he actually told you. I don’t think you scared him off, (N/n), I think maybe he wasn’t expecting you to say anything like that and he didn’t know how to handle it. I’m sure if you give him time he’ll work it out himself. Until then you need to stop beating yourself up over it.”

“Easier said than done.” You crossed your arms, slumping in your seat.

“I know, but you’re going to have to trust me on this one.”

-

Keith had never shown up to Sal’s and honestly now that a few days had passed with him one wording you, Shiro's advice was getting harder and harder to follow. You were in your apartment, putting everything from your old room away when you stumbled across the object that caused this whole situation. You crumpled it, tossing it aside. “As if I needed the reminder.” Your birthday was rapidly approaching, with only little over a week left until the day. It was supposed to be a joyous occasion, but it only served as a reminder that Keith was avoiding you. You glared at the piece of paper laying crumpled pathetically at the floor. A sigh escaped you and you sunk to the floor, grabbing it again. It hurt sure, but you felt bad just tossing it aside like that. Why couldn’t life be as easy as you thought it would be all those years ago? You’d always loved Keith, that much should have been obvious from your proposal. But the idea that your feelings had been reciprocated and that they may not be anymore crushed you; even more than that, the idea that you’d ruined your friendship with Keith completely wrecked you. Even if you couldn’t have him as your significant other, you would always want to be friends; he was your other half.

Your phone rang and you jumped, startled by the sudden noise. The caller ID said it was Matt. Decline. You just couldn’t deal with his silliness right now. The phone rang again and you were irked to see Matt’s face pop up again. Decline. You pressed down on the screen as if the more aggressive action would keep him from calling again. A moment later a message popped up. It was from Matt.

Answer my call D:

You rolled your eyes. A second later the phone started buzzing again. You slid the answer button, annoyance written in your words as you clipped out a curt “What?”.

“About time, I was wondering if I’d have to come to your house to tell you.”

“Tell me what?!”

“Now, now. Is that any way to talk to someone with good news?” His voice was a singsong that only proved to grate on your nerves further.

“You know what, I don’t care.”

His laughter faded. “Okay, okay, sorry. Yeesh, this whole thing has really gotten to you, hasn’t it?” He was quick to take on a more empathetic tone, it was much appreciated on your end.

“I’m sorry, I’m being kind of an ass, aren't I? But, yeah, it has. Anyway, what was your news?”

“Shiro has a surprise for you!”

“Wait, what?”

“Can you meet us at his place?”

“Yeah-- wait, Matt, what’s the surprise?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?” You tried to speak again, but the line went dead. He’d hung up.

You wanted to ignore the phone call, but you know if you did the curiosity would linger much longer than you’d like. So instead, you huffily slipped on your jacket and shoes and headed out to Shiro’s place.

For having a surprise for you, Shiro wasn’t very quick to answer his door. When he finally did open the door he was red in the face and looked like he had just been running laps. You guffawed. “Are you good?” Too breathless to answer, he just nodded, stepping aside to let you in. “What were you doing-- the hell is this?”

“Oh that, that’s nothing. You look great, but hey have you thought about going out, like with us?” You blinked slowly at Matt who was trying to pull your attention from reusable grocery bags that were spilling out streamers and other various decorations.

“What are you talking about?”

“We’re going to go party and you’re coming with us. No more moping. But maybe you might want to get a little more dressed up, that’s on me, I should have told you before. I was just worried you wouldn’t show up.”

"I wouldn’t have. Matt, I don’t want to go out partying. Besides you’re a little early, my birthday isn’t for-”

“We know! But you needed a pick me up, look it won’t be one of those shitty bars, okay. Somewhere more laid back.”

You rolled your eyes again. “What's wrong with what I have on now then?”

“Pwetty pwease. Look, we even bought you a gift!”

Matt pulled out a nicely wrapped gift box, Shiro must have wrapped it.

“Go on, open it.”

So you did, pulling the ribbon and tearing the paper off. Inside the box was an outfit, and despite your earlier protests, you smiled. It was a number you’d been eyeing for a while now. “Thank you both. Fine. We can go party, but just for a little while. Let me go get ready first, yeah?”

“Sounds good.”

-

The place they ended up taking you was Oriande, a place that landed somewhere between a club and a bar. It was classier than most of the bars on the road, but it also still had a dance floor giving it a more casual atmosphere as opposed to the high-class lounges up the road. It was still early in the evening, the sun just barely touching the horizon when you went in. Pastel neon lights engulfed you, the soft yet bright pinks blues and purples inviting you deeper into the establishment. Honestly, you were surprised you hadn’t been here before, it was just your style. Shiro ushered you over to a table nearer the back that looked like it had been decorated for an event. Oh, dang, were you here for someone else's party? But you didn’t even bring anything-

A cheery lady approached you. “You must be one of our bachelorxs!” She clapped a hand on you back and before you could get a word in edgewise she continued. “Now, your hubby-to-be isn't here yet, but that doesn’t mean the fun can't begin right?” She laughed friendly, before continuing, barely a breath in between her last sentence. “So," she stretched out the 'o' so that it sounded more like 'ooh', "we’ve set up a nice little bar section for your party, and of course since it's your party there's an open bar. Your planners were very thorough! If you need anything just holler!” And like that she had run off to attend other matters.

You rounded on your friends who were looking particularly guilty. “What the hell did you do!?”

“Look before you say anything-”

“No. I-” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I get that you wanted the discount or special treatment or whatever, but did you really have to rope me in?”

“Well actually-”

“Shiro? Why’d you ask me to meet you here? Isn’t it kind of loud--...” There was Keith looking a little worse for the wear than when you’d last seen him, but he had still cleaned up well. Your attention immediately left Shiro.

“Keith?” His face paled as you approached him, eyes darting away as if searching from an exit; your heart clenched painfully. When he realized he couldn't so easily dart away he begrudgingly looked up at you, face a soft pink, although it might have just been the lighting-- it was hard to tell.

“(Y/n)... Hey…”

“It’s nice to see you again.” Even though you don’t want to see me, you thought bitterly. “Did Shiro invite you? It looks like it’s somebody’s party.” This caught him off guard.

“I... it is?”

You shrugged. “I’m assuming, although I think Shiro,” You yanked the fleeing man over, grip iron clad on his arm, Matt had already made his getaway, “and Matthew are running a bit of a con, but there are free drinks so...”

“Oh, my gosh, you two are so cu~ute! You must be our bachelor, I'm sure your fiance must have filled you in, so if you need anything let me know. I’ll let the bartender know that you’re both here.”

You watched in mortification as the chipper woman from before clapped a hand on Keith’s shoulder, effectively labeling him as your fiance. His face was burning with a blush, you were certain it wasn't the lighting this time. “No- that’s not--”

“Berry! We got an issue!” Someone from behind the bar shouted at who you assumed was the chipper lady. She frowned. “Shoot. Sorry, I gotta go handle this, enjoy your party!” Your anger from before you saw Keith had been reignited with a vengeance.

“Okay, so maybe I should explain…” Shiro looked beyond nervous.

“You think?!”

“It was Matt’s idea. Well, okay so originally we thought maybe we could pretend to be getting engaged for a couple of free drinks but then you two… well, you’ve both been a mess and refused to confront each other… So Matt came up with this idea, which in hindsight is kind of a shitty one, but hey now you can talk and there's plenty of pre-paid liquid courage to help you.”

“Shiro!”

“I’m sorry that we put you in this situation, but I’m not sorry I tricked you both into coming. Who knows how long you two would’ve gone on avoiding each other? And I can't deal with you both being upset over the same thing just because you don't want to confront each other. You both have been beating yourselves up, and waiting around for the situation to just magically right itself. So if it takes alcohol to get you to talk, then so be it." Shiro had taken on that authoritative aura of his and you huffed. You hated it when he was right, and he usually was.

"Fine." Your voice sounded cold even to your ears. You hadn’t meant for it to and you couldn't stand the thought of seeing if Keith reacted to it. Honestly, you weren't sure if it would hurt more if he did or didn't. Instead of looking you stubbornly grabbed his hand and dragged him to somewhere you could talk without shouting. You ended up finding yourselves alone in the hallway to the restroom, the music was still blaring but it was far enough away that you could actually talk. You finally let go of Keith’s hand, turning around to face him. It was almost too much, after so many days of having been rejected by him. Your nerves gripped you with a renewed sense of terror. You couldn’t talk, instead, you felt your throat tighten. Fuck. You were gonna cry. You hadn’t dragged him all the way over here just to cry in front of him. A strained whimper left your lips when you made to speak and you quickly snapped your mouth shut, turning away in embarrassment. Why now, of all times did your emotions have to be getting the better of you.

A shaky hand wiped your tears away. Your eyes shot to meet Keith’s. He looked unsure of himself like he would dart away at any second and yet, he still stood before you, gently brushing away the tears that refused to stop flowing. “H-hey, (N/n), hey… No, no, fuck. Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t-- I didn’t mean to make you cry.” That only made you cry harder and soon enough Keith had awkwardly pulled you into his arms. It was no unknown fact that physical affection was one of the quickest ways to comfort you and as your childhood best friend, Keith knew this better than anyone. “I,” He cleared his throat, “I know I fucked up. I never wanted to hurt you. I’d rather die.” He paused and for a moment you thought that he was done talking and tried to focus on recomposing yourself. You never left his arms though, afraid that stepping away would mean you’d never get to be this close to him again. “But I- I didn’t know what to do… I was scared. My feelings for you were laid out and I couldn’t be sure what you were thinking.” Something wet hit the top of your head-- Keith was crying too? “So, I did what I do best and I ran away. I shouldn’t have, but… What else was I supposed to do?” His voice wavered, his question coming out near breathless and timorous.

“I don’t understand? Why were you scared? I don’t care if you used to have a crush on me as a kid! I’m sorry if I scared you off with that stupid comment, I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe…” You had pushed back, this wasn’t a conversation you could very well have with your face smooshed into Keith’s chest. Regret clenched around your heart like a chain, but you’d already froze before. You forced yourself to meet his eyes, the beautiful violet-grey causing a short-lived wave of calm to wash over you. They were familiar, and yet the tears falling from them were not. Keith rarely cried. Acting on instinct alone, your hands made to wipe his tears away. He let you, watching you with a piercing gaze that was trying to dissect your every movement, find answers in the space between your words and your actions. He couldn’t find any hidden meanings, but he couldn't find any answers either.

“Comment?”

“What?” Your voice croaked out, sounding just as confused as he had.

“You said stupid comment? What comment?” Was he serious? Hadn’t your flirting been what caused this all to spiral?

“When I was flirting with you! Isn’t that what ran you off? I mean I didn’t actually mean we had to get married, just like a date or- or whatever…”

“Wait you were flirting with me?!” You felt like screaming, how had you managed to get yourself into this predicament of giving Keith your feelings on a platter thrice in your life now? Regardless of whether he knew or not, you felt like vomiting from the nerves.

“I thought it was obvious?” You laughed, but it came out strange and garbled, “I mean, shit Keith, I only propositioned you for marriage twice now.” The idea was both incredibly embarrassing and way too funny.

He seemed to feel similarly as a snort left him, quickly preceded by a fit of laughter that you too couldn't help but join in on. The both of you sounded delirious, and honestly, you kind of were. Tears flowed freely as you laughed, making you feel as though you may have lost it. When the laughter finally died down you were left shaky and almost numb. But the weight was no longer on your shoulders so that was something. “In your defense,” Keith’s hands had come to wipe away your tears again, completely dismissing his own, “I’ve technically never refused your propositions either.”

Your hand met his on your cheek, stopping the motions but also stopping him from leaving. “I mean, you did run away the second time…”

“But I never said no.”

“Are you saying you want to marry me?” Your brow arched, eyes searching his for a sign that he was joking. Surely, he wasn’t actually saying he wanted to marry you.

His eyes widened and he glanced to the side bashfully. “Maybe not a week from now… Honestly, though, I don’t think I could ever even imagine myself spending the rest of my life with anyone else? Like you’ve been my constant since basically day one and I’ve… I’ve had feelings for you for almost as long.” You could feel the tremble of his hands, letting your grip tighten slightly afraid he might run again if you didn’t. Your other hand moved to press his ridiculous fringe out of his eyes.

“Oh, Keith.” You couldn’t help the soft smile that found its way to your lips. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

He bit his lip. “That depends on what you think I’m saying?”

“Keith… Please don’t make me wait any longer to hear it.”

He laughed, although you could still feel the slight tremble in his hand. “(Y/n) (L/n), I have wanted to be with you since we were in second grade, maybe longer, and that’s never changed. If you’ll have me, I’d love nothing more than to be with you.” He paused a beat. “Oh, but, um, I do think marriage would be rushing it... “

You giggled, though he sounded monotone, you knew he was joking. “I’ve waited this long, I think I can wait a while longer if that’s what it takes.” The two of you shared a laugh and before you knew it, Keith had gently tugged you back into his arms. With your face pressed firmly into his chest, you could feel the erratic beating of his heart. “But really, Keith. I’ve had feelings for you for as long as I can remember. I’m glad we finally get to be here like this.”

“Speaking of, do you want to dip out and go somewhere-”

“Less loud?”

“Yeah.”

“That would be lovely.” With your hand in his, Keith led you through the crowds, neither of you bothering much to say goodbye to the now tipsy Matt and supervising Shiro, instead of finding your way outside into the crisp evening air. It felt like you could breathe finally, although you suspect part of it was because you no longer felt the crushing pressure on your chest of hiding your feelings for Keith. In fact, you realized with delight, you could now… “Hey, Keith?” You stopped on the sidewalk, with him by your side, eyeing you curiously. “Can I try something?”

“Okay?”

Letting the last of your nerves roll off of you, you took your moment of boldness and leaned up to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. Keith startled, after a moment his hand left yours, instead, finding purchase on your waist to tug you closer. “(Y/n), can I try something?” His voice was barely audible, but it still sent shivers through your spine.

“Okay.”

He smiled softly before moving to capture your lips with his own. The kiss was tender and filled with love. His inexperience showed, but it was endearing and you found yourself leaning in to kiss him again after he pulled back. You were left breathless under the lamplight, grinning just as brightly as that day on the playground when Keith first agreed to be yours. And now that he’d agreed once again, well you couldn’t be any happier.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

If you’d like to, I’d love a fic rec. I like all the fandoms in your bio so I’d be interested in whatever you want to talk about. Thanks!!

Someone actually sent me the ask I’ve been waiting for oh my god. Anon. You are an incredible person and I love you. Okay so. If we were doing spn recs, this list would be over 300 fics long. If we did Marvel, I’d have to explain my stance on the current comics, and say why I like some parts of the MCU and why I dislike others. For Shadowhunters, and I say this sheepishly, I just posted a fic on my ao3. If you’re interested, please check it out! And I have been on a DC binge lately...so let’s do DC!

Now keep in mind I have so so many fics, so these are just my top favourites. They’re also pretty general and all over the place, so if you want a rec list for a specific ship or gen relationship or fandom, just let me know! I’d be more than happy to write one.

1. Yesterday’s Voices by @lemonadegarden

While trying to take down a drug cartel that deals with memory altering drugs, things go awry, and Batman wakes up with no recollection of the last five years. As a result, his family must now race against time to find the antidote, while also having to deal with a Bruce who still thinks Jason is Robin. A Bruce who doesn't recognise most of them. A Bruce far less jaded and cynical than the one they're used to. A Bruce who still cares.

Gen. 49,000 words. This fic was incredibly sweet with just the right touch of angst. Featuring a lot of Bruce being a dad, Jason and the rest of the batfam making amends. The author has impeccable dialogue and conveys the emotions of the characters beautifully. The pacing is a bit off, though, and the beginning seems rushed while the heavy emotional parts seem long and drawn out. Overall, a pretty satisfying read with a happy ending.

2. The Mystery of the Superboy Shirts by Aviatricks

The thing is, Tim is a detective, first and foremost. And like most detectives, sometimes he just can’t let things go. (Or, how Tim acquires several hundred Superboy t-shirts)

Tim/Kon. 4,000 words. I’m sure this fic has been recced a thousand times in a thousand different lists, but there is no way I can leave it out. Good old fashioned fluff and humor. It’s light and happy and leaves you with a laugh at the end. If you’re in the mood for a oneshot full of smiles and core four fluff (and really, who isnt?) then this fic is a go-to!

3. Every Fiber of My Being by @lanestreets (I am so sorry if this is the wrong url. The one on ao3 didn’t work so I had to do some digging.)

As much as Dick and his siblings have argued, Bruce has never budged on his "Keeping Secrets Policy". There's not a person alive outside of the family that knows the secret identity of any of the Bats. Not even Dick's boyfriend. Dick understands the need for some secrets, knows that keeping their identities safe keeps them and their loved ones safe, but when he takes up the cowl, team dynamics aren't the only things that begin to change.

Birdflash. 21,000 words. This has got to be my most favourite birdflash fic of all time. Partly because it’s based off Dick and Wally from the comics (their personalities are particularly Titans-esque, but I’m not 100% sure) rather than from Young Justice. It’s mainly Dick-centered, showcasing his relationships with Wally but also with the rest of his family. If you’re not sure of what exactly happened with Bruce being lost in time and Dick becoming Batman, I would brush up on that first, because this fic won’t make much sense without it. It takes you on a whirlwind of feels, and the frantic, gradually quickening pace of the prose matches the plot of the fic, and I just - ah! I would definitely give this fic a read!

4. Declensions by @dustorange

“My father,” Dick says, “worked the rope. It cut him. His hands were never clean.”

Gen. 13,500 words. Dick-centric. This fic is absolutely gorgeous and it needs more love. The reason I think it’s so incredible is because it takes a deep dive into Dick’s Romani heritage which is something that I adore DC did but hate the way the executed it. But still, representation is representation, and when you have fics like these to show what Dick being Romani would actually reflect, it’s hard to complain. Beautifully written, and the overt racism and difficulty fitting in really hits home, even for someone who’s experienced it firsthand. A little bit of the prose is jumbled and hard to follow, but that may be an artistic choice reflecting Dick’s state of mind during the fic. Read this if you want to realize some things you’ve never thought of before.

5. Those Who Wait by @last01standing

The best way to socialize an angry assassin boy: Set up a playdate with someone functionally invulnerable. [Jon and Damian through the years. Reverse!Robins universe. Stands alone.]

Damijon. 11,000 words. I’m not usually a fan of reverse robins, but I liked this one because it focused on the way Damian and Jon’s relationship grew through the years. It also doesn’t just switch Damian and Dick’s names while keeping their personalities the same, or have Damian become a harsh, uncaring person who can barely be classified as an older brother, both of which I’ve seen in these types of fics and I hate. Damian’s character development is extremely well done and actually realistic, so kudos for that. Jon is written as an actual character with feelings and motivation, rather than a “smol little bean” whose entire personality is “uwu.” While it can be funny in incorrect quotes and humor, it doesn’t do well for depth, and I like how this fic explored Jon’s human side. All in all, an interesting read, almost to the point of a character study. Also the shipping stuff with the eventual happy ending is cute too.

6. In The Game by WithTheKeyIsKing

Everyone knows that if you want Don Bruce Wayne to hear you out, there are a few people you have to talk to first. (And frankly, his sons can be just as terrifying.)

Gen. 4,000 words. Part 1 of a series. Once again, I love this for the way the characters are explored. Each member of the family’s individual personalities are examined, then taken and twisted just slightly to the left, leaving you breathless reading a fic that actually seems 100% plausible. The second person in the first fic is a bit off-putting at first, until you reach the end and realize what the author was setting up for. While not a fic I like to read as an alternate way of imagining canon, this is a cool idea worth a visit.

7. Safe and Sound by @kingburu

Post-Endgame, Nightwing finds Kid Flash at Mount Justice.

Birdflash. 12,000 words. I have literally created a moodboard for this fic, that’s how much I loved it. Now, I’ll be the first person to say I’m not a fan of Young Justice. While it set up a good premise, the characters are introduced and gone too fast for us to actually care, and the show is just different enough from canon comics to seriously bother me. But, if there’s one thing I truly loved, it was Dick and Wally’s easy friendship in Season 1. It was like the ultimate best friends to lovers. However, apparently DC can’t ever let me or Wally be happy because Endgame happens and I die a little inside. This fic is a self indulgent little oneshot of Wally accidentally time travelling to the future, after he died, and coming to terms with the fact that he loves his best friend and he left him all alone. Heartbreakingly sad, this takes you on a journey through Wally’s emotional mindset. It does not have a happy ending, and leaves you feeling bittersweet in all the right ways.

All right, those are seven of the best DC fics there are, at least in my book. Once again, these are just general. If you want a specific pairing or fandom, just let me know. Ask and ye shall receive. Also, if you want to scream one of the fics from the list you read, or any other fic or headcanon, just message me. I’m literally always down to talk.

Hope you like the list, anon. Happy reading!

[liljaehyun]

Three Cards | Felix Lee

Synopsis: You’re a tarot reader and every month you have the same lonely visitor.

Genre: ANGST, IdolAU

Word count: 910 (a short lil one cos i havent written anything in AGES)

6:56 PM

“Hey stranger.” you smiled warmly at the boy standing in front of you. It’s been like this every month for the past 3 months or so, Felix Lee coming to get his cards read - again. 

Following a tragic breakup between him and a past lover he had been coming to your little safe haven; it was situated just on top of a small coffee shop - the smells of coffee and desserts wafting through your open windows every so often. He looked just as good as he did last month; light blonde hair in his eyes and freckles dusting over his cheeks.

Felix looked like he was going through a hard time, he always did. He looked tired. Every ‘hello’ was greeted with a tired smile and sad eyes; yet he lied. He always lied - but he knew you knew.

“Hey.” He looked at me with stars in his eyes. Beautiful tired stars, galaxies and moons. You could have sworn you saw shooting stars in them. Getting lost you shook it off and began to perform your ritual. It wasn't uncommon to prepare and situate the atmosphere before the client came - but you always waited for his arrival so you could ask which incense he wanted burned this time.

Laying out the card decks in front of you, you let his hands guide themselves over them carefully. This was Felix’s favourite part of the reading - picking the deck and analysing the artwork carefully, trying his best to understand the meaning of every card before you said anything. His hands guided him to the Fountain Tarot deck and you smiled knowing how much he adored this one. In truth you never had to ask him to pick, it was always this one. 

Every single time. 

“You know already but I’m still in a lot of pain. Not because of her anymore - but life. I feel like I have the weight of the whole world on my shoulders sometimes, and frankly I don’t know how to shake this feeling. I’m scared-” he paused looking down at his hands. His breath hitched in his throat and he shook his head. 

He looked up slowly, never making eye contact with you. Just keeping his eyes on your hands holding the deck of cards. He just wanted guidance on where to go from here and you understood that. You sent a gentle smile his way and put your cards down momentarily so you could hold his hands.

“Felix Lee, you have survived your entire life up until this point. You’ve survived heartbreak, trauma, and you live in a world where one can only imagine.” You squeezed his hands softly as your smile faltered. “Let’s breathe together okay?”

No words were exchanged after that, just the quiet cracking of the incense burning and the sound of cars driving past. This went on for a moment before you picked your cards up again.

You shuffled carefully and waited for his ‘stop’ and fluke cards falling. Felix never paid for more than three cards, so you pulled the three and laid them out on the table. Not shocked at what you saw. 

Strength reversed.

Eight of pentacles.

Five of pentacles.

“Externally you show great strength and you’re proud of the work you do. You strive to be on the path to greatness although your mind tumbles frequently into depressed states. This can be attributed to a relationship, friendships, or feeling outcast from the people you surround yourself with.” 

Felix loved how deep you delved into his mind. It was exciting and beautiful and he loved how deeply focused you were especially on something so miniscule like his life. Getting his cards read scared him at first, until he met you. Your aura was soft, warm, and even though he’d never admit it, this was his favourite part of the month.

“You are consistently on a journey of self discovery although your mind blocks so much of your potential. This month holds such an openness for spiritual strength and vitality.” 

Smiling now, you looked up at him and you were met with a kind smile back. You and Felix sat there for the next hour talking about his cards. Questions were thrown your way and you had an answer to every single one leaving him just as impressed as every other time - almost as if he came here with the expectation of you getting something wrong. 

This pattern continued for the next few months that went by - however every month that passed was another stepping stone for Felix. His visits becoming shorter, and his smiles growing wider - you almost resented the universe for allowing him to be this happy, but you didn’t. You enjoyed watching him joke around and laugh more and more - But you were falling so hard for him every passing visit it was becoming increasingly hard not to be biased when reading his cards. 

6:59 PM

No sign of Felix this month.

Or any other month.

You expected this sooner or later - but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. You had been following his adventures on instagram; his bright smile lighting up your timeline and the stars in his eyes glowing and glistening more than ever before. He didn’t need your advice, he was better now - and although the pain was excruciating, you were happy. You were genuinely happy for Lee Felix - and that's more than you could have ever asked for.

OKAY I’m gonna start by saying I havent written any fanfics in years but I’ve been on a binge reading @staywritten‘s stories. (They are absolutely correct by the way, there definitely isn’t enough Felix angst so I had to join the club.)

Please please check out  A Simpler Time by @staywritten as this is so heavily inspired by this. Thank you all (if you even read this ???) Please leave feedback im so nervous posting this wow wtf.

[maddiefriendlovesbilly]

Spencer x Ghost?

Spencer x Ghost

(AAAAA- it has been months since you sent this to me, and all i can say is im so sorry) Side note I have my friend @lethalbreadkills helping me with this one!

For reference: Maddie (maddiefriendlovesbilly) is green, Jimmy (lethalbreadkills) is red (((its 4:30 at the time i have joined this so im dead braincell wise sorry yall))) and Orange is stuff we decided together :3

Also this is so very chaotic im so sorry for this anon but this has been in my fuckin drafts for SO LONG and this is the only way its getting finished (its now 5 am uwu) im so sorry for all the shitposting i do its a mess. I shouldnt have been allowed here. (we finished at about 5:30 am its hell <3)

Sphost? Ghencer?? Sphoster??? I adore and despise them all equally.

We have decided that it should be BeanieGhost

Anyway I think this ship is really cute

They’re both so neurotic I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue

One of them starts a rant on some topic and the other joins the hell in

I’m an advocate of LETTING SPENCER INFO DUMP BECAUSE HE DESERVES IT OKAY

And Ghost would let this dream come true???

I would die for both of them and if Spencer told me I had to die I wouldn’t even complain, no questions I’d just be like “Aight.” I trust him that much.

(Not sure I trust Ghost’s judgment enough to do that unquestioningly; sorry Ghost)

Back on topic

I can’t imagine these guys on anything that comes close to society’s definition of a date

It’d be more like “hey you wanna come on this hunt with us?” “maybe, depends if there’ll be snacks” or like chilling in Spence’s room binging the entire star trek: original series in one sitting or “oops sorry about that level 11 entity that attached to my soul and is now wreaking havoc in your house, wanna make out later to make up for it?” “Fine but you also have to play three rounds of Call of Duty with me afterward”

They wouldn’t be romantic often but like highkey? I can see them throwing themselves into the line of fire for each other with a recklessness only they could survive

We can’t forget that Spencer is a more than 60,000-year-old overpowered demon/god/entity/thing, which, yes, could throw a slight wrench in this ship for multiple reasons, but I choose to make angst out of it instead.

Side note: Ghost is a chronic conspiracy theorist (and you can’t tell me otherwise) and every once in awhile Spencer will offhandedly say something like “Y’know I helped the Egyptians build the pyramids” and Ghost just goes fucking feral.

Look, I’m not saying Spencer IS touch-starved and most likely has issues creating and developing relationships and therefore avoids interpersonal connection, especially offline, but I AM saying he is prime material for it. (thats a lie thats exactly what shes saying don’t believe it) (I’m projecting okay dont judge me) (loser imagine projecting)

Imagine with me for a second: Why does Spencer willingly stay with a family who locks him in their basement with only minor complaining? He’s a near all-powerful entity just released into the world for Spence’s-sake - If he wanted to, there’s no telling what havoc he could wreak! So why doesn’t he? Why would someone so powerful, so terrifying, so dangerous that a group of people decided to seal him away forever stay with the first family he finds in sub-par conditions for years - especially someone who’s seen to be as high-maintenance as Spencer? Let me hit you with a theory: He’s chasing the feelings of validation, safety, and love - no matter how rarely it’s shown - that a family can provide. Being socially isolated for even a few years can do a number to a person’s psyche (I should know, I’m projecting onto this character right now), let alone thousands.

Now maybe Ghost can’t match thousands of years in isolation, but damn if he doesn’t have a few years of crippling loneliness on his record too.

I can see the two of them learning how to be vulnerable around others together, emotionally and physically; learning how to open up and how to talk through issues; and some third point, because points are better in threes.

(May I suggest that these losers are both trans but thats just me adding in my own projection lmao)

(You absolutely may)

Imagine the conversation thats just “so i have a murderer in my head thats an ass” “rip to u ig sounds like a you problem :///”

imo spence has trouble expressing emotions other than like,,, annoyance and haughtiness, its like sort of his go-to defence, so showing Ghost his emotions is a big step for him

I hear you, and i say yes good. (found this one headcanon that i kinda live by where he was uh, either autistic or adhd i dont remember but theres that too) OH yeah that would be at thing huh. Spencer: *is emotionally vulnerable @ ghost* ghost: oh shit im trusted??? Oh fuck uh.

Yeah so like…. Ghost and spence showing emotion at eachother is kind of :flushed: ghost be like: whats an emotion. Imagine having emotions fuciiing loser hhaha,,,, *laughs nervously*

Ghost is also very emotionally distant with most people so it would probably be like “what??? The fuck?? Emotions?????? You have those???”

Ghost and Spencer be like *gay*

So another idea is that maybe Spencer realizes Ghost doesnt play any games [like the uncultured SWINE he is] and decides he must [remedy] this and so he introduces him to like, nintendo first. (some bitches thought that said nintendo fortnite. Im bitches) and theyre playing like, mario kart or smash or smth and Ghost gets really [fuckin into it]

Ghost and spencer: *literally in eachothers laps playing fucking wii tennis*

Spooker: what are the- *TOAST FUCKING SLAPS A HAND ACROSS HIS MOUTH* shut up you dont wanna know what happens when its mentsonssbfdjfsd (sorry i had a stroke uwuwuwuw)

(Theyre in denial we don’t judge in this house)

They will not hesitate to play dirty either, they will straight up push each other over and vaguely flirt

Ghost is losing and straight up fucking goes “ur hot” and spencer actually dies and boom ghost is the winner. sparkle emoji Magic sparkle emoji

“I am Not a HomoSexual:™:” “Yeah, sure you aren’t” “Screw off”

Pet-names-ish: Asshole, Gaymer-Boy, casual insults, Mr. Spirit Bitch, Mistake, Loves Ghosts More Than His Boyfriend What A Fucking Loser aka Gay-ass

Pros:

They both open up a lot most likely. Gain someone to trust since they’ve sort of been through the same things (though on much different scales)

I can see soft hours of hanging in each other’s bedrooms

Spencer is a tsundere you cant tell me otherwise youre just a coward if you disagree

So is Ghost so this can only go well

Every time Ghost has to solve a case at the Acachallas Spence is just peaking out from his basement like “the fuck is this?? Hot Man??????”

Enemies to lovers 500k (Gets Hot and Steamy :flushed: NOT CLICKBAIT!!!!11!!!!! 18+!!!!!!! GAY LOVE StORY!!!!!!) Lemonz!!! Made from teh Sexiest of Wattpaders UWUWUWU YAOI Boys Love don’t like don’t read!! (this is so fucking stupid jkfnd) I hate this with a passion Q^Q. All my years of being a basic watpad fanboy have helped me to the moment i bring maddie to tears

The steam is just like,,,,, holding hands and being angy all the fuckin time the steam is literal because their anger translates into actual steam

Cons:

Their angst has nowhere to go and it just sits between them like two raccoons at a dumpster-style mexican standoff

They really start off hating each other huh. Like, I know this can still lead to healthy relationships but neither of them are very good at healthy relationships with people he hasn’t known for his Whole Life so that’s an Oh No.

They totally feed off of each other’s stupidity (but this could be seen as a pro too so take that as you will) as well as anger - im talking one-upping each other kinda shit

Its ridiculous honestly how intense it gets, like they straight up need intervention sometimes because they dont realize they can just STOP

Conclusions:

I think this would be a relationship that would that a lot of time and hard work to make work, but i think in the end it would be really super cute!! Like it would make no fuckin sense to anyone else but somehow they’d understand each other and help each other through their similar issues. Also theyre both big nerds in different ways and i think they’d have just ranting sessions back and forth over and over and it would be soft!!!!! So yeah, i think it would work, at least, i want it to :D

So. Maybe?? I feel like it could, but they’d need to work pretty hard to make it healthy and not constant fighting. Could be stupid amounts of cute and wholesome but also could be stupid amounts of oh no and pain, depending on how the two act. If they learned how to get along with each other and work past their differences it could be super cute and soft. Just a very, er, bumpy beginning. And middle. And end. (this makes me very nervous,,,,why did you mention an end) (wouldnt you like to know weather boy) (TvT) UFDUNS bumpy but soft . Agreeing with the loser gay, want this to work it’d be interesting :3

[amaraanderson514]

Review of the TV Series-“The Walking Dead”

Even if you are uninitiated to the whole zombie-pop culture, you must have heard of the TV series “The Walking Dead.” But, is it worthy of a watch? While all the “The Walking Dead” fans would let you know that it is good enough to be called the best zombie-based show on the planet, some may disagree. Let us parse into it.

There is no perfect genre to describe “The Walking Dead.” The TV series spans many genres, including horror, crime, action, gore, and visceral visuals. The graphic imagery sometimes churns your stomach almost to the breaking point, and in addition to that, there are enough guns, blood, and zombies to capture your imagination. You cannot watch it with your children, though, as there are some uncensored and freehold-swearing along with love and crime scenes, which makes it pretty awkward family viewing, if not impossible. Many viewers have rated the series as 16+, but there are often references to pregnancy, birth control, coercion, and other things. So, if you want to make your kid a geeky, intellectual, or angelic kind of person, then “The Walking Dead” should not really be your cup of tea.

However, if you are watching with friends and you are looking for some epic fighting scene, cowboy-themed dialogues, and some zombies for horror, then there is no better TV series than “The Walking Dead” to make you laugh, cry, and cheer at the same time. In the initial seasons, humans fight zombies as the zombie apocalypse takes over Earth, but as the seasons go by, humans’ evil instincts take over, and the series shows them as eviller than the zombies.

The heroic humans suddenly turn into a horde of evil monsters that can perform almost any crime. They can humiliate anyone, shot, stab, and throw children away, and their crimes come with impunity because there is no law and order, or government, or even a god to take care of the sins.

The central premise of the whole saga deals with a group of survivors fighting off an army of zombies as they travel across the country to find a safe abode. Andrew Lincoln plays the leading role in the company of Lennie James, Adrian Kali Turner, Sarah Wayne Callies, and Chandler Riggs. The series is based on a graphic novel series penned by Robert Kirkman and Tony Moore. Jon Bernthal also joins the cast in the successive seasons in the role of Shane Walsh, who is one of the most iconic characters of the whole “The Walking Dead” saga.

The first season primarily puts focus on the group of survivors and the characters played by Lincoln, James, and Turner as they run for their lives and find his missing wife (played by Sarah Wayne Callies) and a boy (played by Chandler Riggs). They lead a group of survivors to a safe place and end up building a shaky and tremulous civilization. The humans struggle to live together as the dark instincts take over.

Now, if you are wondering whether to give it a watch, then you would be glad to know that this AMC horror-drama has been heavily ranked as one of the best horror series created in the last decade and is continued to be binge-watched by zombie lovers. However, zombies are not everybody’s cup of tea, and most people hate it when fans of the show compare the series to shows like Game of Thrones or Breaking Bad. However, if nothing else, you can watch the show for Andrew Lincoln (you probably know him for his lovely portrayal of a Romeo character in Love Actually). Other fan-favorite characters of the show include Shane Walsh, Daryl (played by Norman Reedus), and Michonne (played by Danai Gurira). As you proceed to binge-watch season by season, you will be pulled into the series more as you take a dip into personal trauma, moral conflict, and agendas of the characters.

Source : Review of the TV Series-“The Walking Dead”

[heckyeahitsnick]

Her Soul is Like Magnolia

Written By: @heckyeahitsnick​

Pairing: Harry Styles/OC

Word Count: 20,979

Warnings: Some explicit/foul language

Summary: 

Magnolia “Mags” Rahman believes in hard science, has a tendency to stick her foot in her mouth, and is a lover of all things horror and Halloween. Harry Styles likes to toe the line between fact and fiction, strangers and friends, and normal and paranormal.  

Harry Styles has a ghost problem.

Mags has a Harry Styles problem.

An au where seeing is believing and everyone is trying their best to treat each other with kindness.

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

Day 1: October 24th, a week from Halloween

“You’re stepping on my foot.”

Mags broke herself out of her stupor, visibly shaking her head. She stared at the person the voice belonged to, trying to orient herself and gather her bearings, and saw that it was her coworker, Liam. “Oh,” she murmured apologetically, “Sorry.” She was so exhausted at work, counting down the minutes until her shift was over at the campus bookstore so she could go home and curl up with Pumpkin, the adorable black cat she adopted only a month ago when it was love at first sight. Grad school was a vicious beast that she had yet learned how to slay. She probably hadn’t slept in the last 48 hours, busy with school, work, and occasionally binging B-rated horror movies on Netflix with Pumpkin. In her drowsy state, she couldn’t be held responsible for her actions, like accidentally charging the last customer the wrong price, shelfing the Twilight series under the Biography section, and stepping on her coworker’s foot. She was just so tired.

“Okay? Thanks for apologizing? But you literally haven’t moved. You’re still stepping on my foot!” He pointed at her white sneakers atop his (knock-off) Timberlands.

She gave him a playful glare and replied, “You’re so high-maintenance,” before shifting away from him.

“Okay, well, I just came to tell you I’m headed home a little early,” he paused to eye her with vague concern, “Are you sure you’re okay to close up?”

She snorted, “Does my answer even matter? It’s not like you’re gonna offer to close up for me.”

He grinned good-naturedly, “Yeah you’re right. Makes me feel like less of a dick though.” Putting on his coat and gathering his backpack, he quickly headed for the door as if the devil was chasing him, ignoring the peace sign Mags threw at his retreating figure. Probably eager to go home and chug some beer, or like start a fire, or whatever it was that boys like to do. Mags wouldn’t know. She couldn’t possibly even attempt to understand the male psyche.

Like for example, Mags looked at the only customer in the bookstore, frantically pacing through the aisles and muttering incomprehensibly to himself. His curly hair was tussled and frayed, not in the intentional bedhead way that some people, like her ex-boyfriend, styled it in an attempt to look good but actually coming off as a douche, but in a way that indicated he’s probably been constantly running his hand through it. Probably exam stress, she mused, considering the boy’s current state. He was tall too, she observed, but that was overshadowed by his hunched shoulders, head facing down, and of course the frantic pacing.

“Dude. Are you okay?” Mags called out in a voice slightly louder than usual.

No answer, as if he didn’t even hear her. She realized she should probably be a bit more cautious. The customer honestly was acting very strange. He could probably be planning to rob the bookstore. She was the only employee left, her slight build and big brown eyes (which her friends called doe-eyed but Mags herself considered to look more like a fish) weren’t enough to intimidate anyone. She laughed softly to herself. Like anyone would rob this bookstore. College students never paid with cash and Mags probably had negative three dollars to her name and an even lower will to live. If someone held her at gunpoint asking her to hand over her wallet, she’d probably wouldn’t be able to stop herself from bursting into laughter. Besides, he looked like a college student himself. An English major, she guessed, considering his pretentious wool coat and heeled boots. She did a double take. Glittery, heeled boots apparently. She would know, she’s dated her fair share of them.

You’re being so foolish, Maggie-Girl, she scolded herself with the affectionate nickname she gave herself and that no one (read: especially Niall, her roommate’s, Marisol’s, boyfriend) was ever allowed to address her as.

The draft Liam let in earlier caused her to shudder. Wrapping her yellow cardigan tightly across her chest, she longingly gazed out the window. The weather was the perfect crispy fall weather, with orange leaves littering the sidewalks and she sighed, wistfully thinking about the brisk air sure to greet her as she biked home. If only the boy would leave, she could be on her way!

She glanced at her watch and decided, screw her self-preservation. She stepped out from behind the check-out counter and headed towards the boy. He barely noticed her, continuing to drag his fingers frantically through the spines of the books on the shelf. Mags just now realized they were standing under the horror section of the store. Weird.

“Hey, um, dude. Are you okay?” She asked with a voice that she hoped sounded professional and confident but probably came across as a mix of “wow-I-don’t-get-paid-enough for this” and “maybe I don’t wanna die?”

Her presence seems to finally break him out of whatever trance he was in. He looked up at her, taking Mags aback. He’s kind of cute, she thought, if she ignored the bluish-purple bags under his green eyes and his pink lips twisted into a frown. Potentially a robber, possibly a murderer who likes to creep out female employees in bookstore by having a near breakdown in the horror section, sure, but at least he was nice to look at.

“What?”

Mags gave him an ironic smile in return. “Ah, you speak! Thank god. I was beginning to think your only talents were to burn a hole through the carpet.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, “What?” he repeated in frustration.

Maybe I gave him more credit than he deserved she thought to herself. Out loud, she said, “Look. Technically, we’re closing in 5 minutes. You looked like you needed help. What’re you looking for? Maybe then we can both get out of here.”

His eyes darted nervously to the side. ��A book,” is his brilliant reply.

“Yeah? I figured?” She said, stretching out her word because at this point, who cared if the boy could tell she thought he was ridiculous. This was definitely a strange scenario and she wondered if her own sleep-deprivation caused her to dream up this handsome boy with vague answers and possibly three functioning braincells. She briefly had a thought that this was like a reverse You situation, where he was the Joe to her Beck, but she quickly stopped her overactive imagination “Any book in particular?”

“Yeah, um,” the boy quickly straightened up and looked her in the eyes, as if he finally came to the realization that he was coming off a little odd, “I’m looking for a horror book. Obviously. But like, something non-fiction? Like about, y’know. Ghosts.“

“Ghosts?” She cautiously prodded, “but non-fiction? Like…paranormal accounts?”

“Yes! Like, I dunno, spooky shit. Stuff, sorry. Paranormal stuff about like haunted houses,” His eyes brightened, and his word tumbled out faster with a tinge of hope. “Hey! You wouldn’t happen to have a How-To book about how to cleanse a house that’s haunted?”

Mags tried. She really did try. Not the fake trying like when she tries to make it to her 8 am class every Tuesday morning and ‘accidentally’ snoozes her alarm. Not even the fake trying she does when Marisol makes her do sit-ups at the gym for their weekly (read: monthly) workout and she taps out after 5. But even trying her hardest meant she could not stop the laughter that escaped her mouth.

“Haha, I’m sorry, what?” She laughed, her face in disbelief and amusement, clutching her stomach, “You want what? What is this? Did you end up watching too many episodes of Buzzfeed Unsolved ‘cuz honestly, I’m not sure you got the right bone structure to be Shane. You’re funny though, I’ll give you that!”

The laughter and words began to trail off because the boy, his face completely changed. The hopeful, pleading gleam that was in his eyes suddenly hardened in anger. Mags quickly tried to reign herself in, registering that he was not amused, and she’d accidentally offended him.

“I –“ She began, ready to start apologizing because she realized she completely read the room wrong.  “Forget it!” He cut her off, quickly stuffing the book he had in his hands back into the bookshelf.

“Whatever.” He peered at her nametag disdainfully, “Don’t offer to help if you don’t intend to, Magnolia,” spewing her name out like it was poison in his mouth.

“Wait! I’m sor – “

“Forget it. Sorry I asked!” He exclaimed, abruptly walking past her, his shoulders jostling hers and she whipped around to try and apologize once more.

But he left just as quickly as Liam did. Like the devil was chasing him.

Mags turned around and pulled out the book he had in his hands (and totally shelfed in the wrong place), trailing her fingers across the blue leather bound and golden imprinted letters. “Exorcism: Encounters with the Paranormal and Occult,” she muttered to herself, and then looked up at the door that the boy had exited from. “Nonfiction.”

She slumped against the bookshelf, mentally kicking herself. Why don’t you ever think before you speak?! She berated herself morosely. Had she taken a second to assess the situation, she would’ve registered his worried eyes and another emotion that she couldn’t quite place. Could it have been…fear? She eyed the book in her hand. What could that boy possibly be afraid of?

Her phone dinged with a text message. She pulled it out of her pocket and immediately groaned reading the message from Marisol.

Pumpkin just shat (shitted? shatted?) on the living room carpet J  Can’t wait ‘till ur home.

If Mags was an English major, she’d probably see an irony in this. Or like a metaphor, because she shat all over that boy’s concerns and like the shit was representative of like…. being a dick? But she wasn’t an English major. Obviously.

The only thing her soon-to-be-chemist brain could come up with was: well, fuck, isn’t karma a bitch.

_______________________________________________________________________

Day 3: October 26th - 5 days until Halloween

“Be honest with me. Am I gonna die?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Niall!” Mags exclaimed, shifting her backpack onto her other shoulder, “For the last time! I. Don’t. Know.”

“But look closely!” He pestered, shoving his arm into her face, whining. “Tell me this rash doesn’t look bad. It’s red! And like, rashy! And it itches, Mags, it itches so bad! I think it’s infected!”

She backed away from him and shoved the offending arm away, quickly muttering an apology to the guy in a suit and tie behind her, before facing Niall again with widened eyes (well, wider than usually because Fish Eyes, remember?). “Seriously, Niall, I really can’t deal with you before I’ve had my morning tea.”

“But I – “

She cut him off. “And rashes can’t be infected! Now can we puh-lease talk about something else? Anything else. I’ll literally discuss your sex life with Marisol right now if it means we can stop talking about your nasty-ass rash!” This time, she ignored the glare from the man in the business suit; she can’t be blamed for his eavesdropping.

While Niall, in typical Niall fashion (taking everything literally), began to recount a tale about his midnight rendezvous with Marisol, Mags let her mind wander. She impatiently tapped her foot against the floor, sparing another glance at her watch, while also giving her own mental nod of approval at the store’s festive decorations (fake spider webs and caution tapes that adorned the doors and counter). For a chain that had a slew of ridiculous redundant names for their drinks (she will always bemoan the fact that people don’t realize that a chai tea is literally translated to tea tea), they sure knew how to get into the Halloween spirit. The line at Starbucks was long she noted, and with four people ahead of them, she and Niall would be late for their lecture if things didn’t speed up. Mags just knew she should’ve made her own cup of chai this morning, but it never tasted the same as when her mom made it, and all it would do is make her more homesick.

Niall briefly interrupted her train of thought with a quick interjection, “Yo, Maggie are you listening to me,” to which she responded with a quick lie, “Yes!” followed by a “And don’t call me that!” with a soft jab to his ribs.

The gears in her mind shifted, wandering to the boy from the bookstore last night. She couldn’t stop thinking about him last night on her bike ride home, during her stern lecture with Pumpkin about the importance of using the litter box, all the way until she finally went to bed. What was he so scared of? She pondered while also still scolding herself for handling the situation absolutely in the worst way. Though she didn’t mean to, she doesn’t ever intend to come across as so rude and aggressive. She just had a knack for blurting out the wrong thing that made it hard for people to see that she actually had a heart of gold.

Well, maybe not gold, she thought. That was giving herself too much credit. To be sure, she interrupted Niall’s ramblings with a quick interjection, “Hey quick question. Would you say I have a heart of gold or like…a heart of bronze?”

He was used to her antics; his blue eyes didn’t even hesitate before meeting hers. “Are we using an Olympic scale? Like gold would be first place and like the kindest person ever?” Acknowledging her nod, he held his fingers to his chin, making the universal thinking face as he mulled over her question.

She barely heard his answer (“Maybe a happy medium, like a silver heart? You suck at first impressions but once ya get to know ya, you’re super sweet,” the blonde mused in the background) because something, or more like someone, caught her eye. She watched him walk past her, exiting the Starbucks. Her eyes locked in on a pair of glittery boots and trailed up a pair of black jeans, a burgundy hoodie, and finally, green eyes that looked even more sleep-deprived than last night if that was possible, until she stopped at the black beanie that did little to contain the escaping brown curls.

It was the boy! The boy from last night!

“It’s him!” She shouted to Niall, dragging him by the arm so she could catch the boy before he left, ignoring Niall’s cries (“Wait, we were next in line!”)

“Hey!” Mags shouted, ignoring the grimace of the man in the suit, as she chased after the boy with a disgruntled Niall slowly trailing behind. She followed the boy outside, desperate to get his attention. “Ghost boy!” she shouted, somewhat hysterically, “Wait!”

Finally, he turned around, just registering that the crazy girl running on the sidewalk was trying to get his attention. His eyes widened in surprised and then narrowed with recognition, as he frowned.

“I - What did you just call me?” He said, his voice huskier than Mags recalled.

“Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name last night. I needed to get your attention! I needed to apologize.” Her eyes took in his appearance. He looked even more haggard than yesterday. His face seemed sunken in and his skin dull. He was still really handsome, if her heartrate was any indicator, but he looked worse for wear.

“Look,” she continued, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to like, laugh at you or anything. Let me make it up to you! I can probably help you find the book you’re looking for! My conscious is like, really annoying, and I couldn’t sleep last night ‘cuz I felt so bad and I looked up a shit ton of books about hauntings. Nonfiction ones! For whatever mysterious reason you need them for.”

His brows furrowed and his frown deepened, “What?” He shook his head from side to side, as if to shake away his confusion, “Look s’all good. It’s fine. I’ll figure it out on my own,” He turned as if to walk away before adding as an afterthought, “You curse a lot, y’know?”

Before she could even respond, she was interrupted again (which was probably a good thing because her knee-jerk response was to say “No shit sherlock”) by Niall coming to a stop beside her.

“Mags, what the actual fuck? We were next in line!” He bent over slightly, resting his hands against his knees as he paused to catch his breath from the strenuous five steps he took from the Starbucks door to where she and the boy were standing. He looked up and nodded, “What’s up, Harry?”

“Hey Niall,” the boy, Harry, said as he eyed the pair of them cautiously, like he didn’t want anyone to think he could be associated with them. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Wait, Harry!” Magnolia cried out, making immediate use of his name, “Seriously, tell me what’s wrong! I can help!” But her cries fell to deaf ears as she watched Harry walk off, his shoulders in his seemingly perpetual slump, one hand jammed into his pocket and the other holding his coffee cup as he crossed the street.

“So,” Niall began, “Couple of things to unpack here. We don’t have coffee, I’m a little more out of shape that I thought I was, and we’re definitely late for class so I suggest we should just skip it and grab some food.” He finally straightened up and looked at Mags, as if was an afterthought, “Wait. How d’you know Harry? Did you sleep with him?”

_______________________________________________________________________

Day 4: October 27th, 4 days until Halloween

On days like this, Mags truly does take a second to appreciate the finer things in life. The fall foliage that lined the paved pebble pathways on the university’s campus only contributed to the magical spell of October. As maple leaves fluttered downwind and the cool wind blew against her skin, she embraced the enchanting atmosphere of the autumnal weather, taking in the beauty as college students hurried past her, a colorful, warm blend of red scarves, brown coats, olive sweaters, and all. The breeze that blew through her dark hair didn’t even bother her, when usually she’d be grumpy considering how long it takes her to tame the thick, wavy locks into an acceptable amount of frizz. Despite having an o-chem midterm waiting for her, she slowed her pace to truly enjoy the bliss she was in. Mags paused on the cobblestone to close her eyes and breathe in the cold air, a small smile slowly forming on her face. Nothing could ruin the feeling of contentment that she was feeling right now and –

“What’re you doin’?”

A deep baritone disrupted her. She stands corrected. Maybe she could be bothered. She took a longer second to herself, keeping her eyes closed and steadying her breathing before planning to huffily face whomever (whoever? Whomstever? Times like this really made Mags rejoice at the fact she wasn’t an English major) decided to ruin her moment of peace.

The same voice let out a chuckle. “Hey, are you planning to open your eyes anytime soon?”

It took her a second, but Mags recognized that voice. Ghost Boy! Harry! She whipped around towards the voice, her hair following along and sharply striking her face and shoulders as she settled her brown eyes on Harry. She was so happy to see him, even if he did ruin the coming-of-age, dramatic introspective Bollywood moment she was having to herself. Magnolia gazed at him, taking the surprisingly peaceful silence between them to truly assess him. His green eyes peered back at her, glistening from the cold breeze, pronounced by the dark purple bags that seemed to have worsened overnight. His cheekbones jutted out just below, and lower, his pink lips settled in an expression she couldn’t quite decipher, but she’d guess wistful if she had to. He seemed to be in better spirits, dressed in a chunky caramel cable-knit sweater. Maybe it was how cozily he was dressed or perhaps it was the softness enhanced by his sleepy demeanor, but Mags was hit by a sudden wave of endearment for him. For a boy she hardly knew! She shook off the weird feelings that washed over her and broke the silence.

“Harry!” She quickly recalled all their past encounters and decided to approach this conversation with a little less well-meaning aggression and exuberance. “Harry,” she calmly tried again, “I’m so glad you’re here. I really, really need you to listen to me. I am really and truly sorry I laughed at you the other day.” He opened his mouth to respond, but Mags bulldozed on, not wanting to lose her chance. “I – look, I have knack for saying the wrong thing but I promise that I really want to help you with –“ She paused as she realized she never knew what exactly seemed to be plaguing him, but persevered nevertheless, “with whatever it is that’s bugging you. I pinky promise I can help - somehow!”

He broke into an amused smile, one that Mags couldn’t help notice was a very nice smile at that. “Pinky promise, huh?” He prodded, “That’s pretty serious for someone who quite literally just met me and doesn’t even know what my problem is.”

“Well, whatever it is, just tell me! I won’t laugh!” Mags pleaded.

“Do you promise not to laugh?”

“I promise!” She said solemnly, her face somber, nodding with earnestness.

“Do you,” he paused, inhaling a deep breath, as Mags leaned in closer to listen, breath baited, eyes unwavering, “do you pinky promise?”

“Oh!” She swatted at him with a free hand as she realized he was teasing her, as he stepped away laughing.

“Sorry,” he smiled, not looking the least bit apologetic, “Couldn’t help m’self.”

They shared a small moment, each looking at the other with their own, soft smiles before

Harry suddenly straightened up, his smile vanishing just as Mags began to welcome the sight. His tone sobered, “I did wanna say m’sorry for being kinda a dick to you. I’m dealing with…something right now and I really didn’t mean to take it out on you, Magnolia.”

“Mags,” she instinctively corrected, “Magnolia is reserved for customers that I don’t insult.”

“Mags,” he repeated wryly, “I like that. Well anyways, just happen to pass you and wanted to say that.” He gestured to the papers she had forgotten were clutched in her hands, “Anyways, looks like you’ve got a test on…” He trailed off, squinting at her neat penmanship of carefully copied formulas and calculations, “rocket science or quantum physics or whatever those horrible numbers mean. Just looking at it is giving me a headache. I’m sure you’ll do well though.  G’luck!” He said, turning to leave.

“No wait!” She was not going to lose another chance. Truly, she did feel awful about how she treated Harry, but also, she didn’t want him to go for reasons she couldn’t quite explain. She liked his presence and didn’t want the conversation to end just yet. “Will you seriously tell me what’s wrong? Please?”

He considered her, his guarded eyes boring into hers for what felt like eternity, not even breaking contact when a boy with rounded hipster coke-bottle glasses and a plaid coat bumped against her shoulder without so much as an apology (friggin’ English majors she briefly lamented).

“Yeah, okay,” he conceded, running his hands roughly through his brown curls, “You think I’m crazy anyways and it’s not like my life can get any weirder.” He pursed his lips as he formulated his thoughts. Mags tried to be patient, resisting the urge to check her watch because she did actually care about her grades and she did have a midterm to get to after all and Niall was such a push-over he wouldn’t be able to save her a seat for much longer, but she had to hear what he had to say. Just as she was going to (gently, she swears) prompt Harry, he broke his contemplative silence.

“Um. Okay so basically,” he stalled, scratching at his hairline before spewing out in anxious, bullet-fast speech, “I um, pretty-sure-I-accidentally-summoned-like-a-demon-or-ghost-or-some-evil-otherwordly-spirit-in-my-house-and-now-I’m-being-haunted.

Brown eyes blinked in his directions. To her credit, Mags remained composed despite her thoughts that ranged from what the actual fuck, this boy is psychotic to my minority ass is not equipped for this situation to aww he looks kinda cute when he’s nervous.

“Yes,” in reality is how she responded, trying to maintain neutral as she organized her thoughts, her voice robotic, “I understand.”

“Yeah, see, I knew this was a mistake. I didn’t really expect you to believe me,” his hopeful expression fading to disappointment, belying his words.

“No! Okay, yeah I don’t believe you,” she confessed, “but,” brandishing her speech with wild gestures, “I can help you prove that your house isn’t haunted! That’ll like give both you and I peace of mind! Not right now, because I really do have to go kick some o-chem ass but like, later tonight? Take my number, text me your address, and we can like ghostbust the fuck out of your non-haunted home!”

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Harry nodded in agreement, albeit reluctantly but hey, she’d take it, Mags quickly gushed out her cellphone number as Harry’s thumb clumsily attempting to enter each digit and keep up.

Mags raced away, peeking at her watch and sparing a parting glance at Harry and calling out, “I’m serious Harry, if I don’t get a text, I will haunt you myself! And I am way more annoying than a ghost!” He smiled fondly in response, “I don’t doubt that. I swear I’ll text you,”

“Promise?” she shouted, as she retreated further away from him to her awaiting exam.

“Pinky promise.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Same day, later that evening

Mags leans against the bay window in the living room, watching the rain drops splatter against the window. A cup of chai in one hand, a worn murder-mystery novel in the other, with Pumpkin curled up against her feet hidden under thick socks, she truly felt content. Marisol had thrown a quilt over Mags legs earlier as the former left for work. Mags was so immersed in the book’s plot she barely gave the other girl an appreciative smile but she was sure Marisol knew.

She was pretty sure she aced her midterm exam earlier that day (and Niall was fairly confident that he didn’t fail so it was a win-win for all) and she was able to make some progress with Harry. The curly haired boy, whom she met for the first time a mere three days ago, seemed to consume a lot of her free time and thoughts.

He was just so curious, and skittish, and he genuinely did seem scared of something. Mags was a firm believer in science, statistics, hard, factual data. Give her an equation to solve or a statistical analysis to decipher over an essay any day. Even if she wasn’t a believer, she knew better than to laugh at others, even if her actions didn’t always reflect that. She had never believed in Santa Claus, being Muslim and all, but she’d been the one to comfort Kevin Vo in the first grade when the classroom bully had tried to convince others that Santa was fictitious. Likewise, even though she didn’t truly know Harry, she did believe that something was scaring him, and she was determined to figure out what it was. But one thing was sure, she positively knew it was not a ghost.

Her phone rang out with a small chime, alerting her of a text message.

Hey, It’s Harry. Harry Styles.

Before she could respond, her phone dinged again.

Or as you like to call me, Ghost Boy.

harry!! im so glad u txted!!!

I keep my promises. Are you sure you want to come to my house that is DEFINITELY haunted?

yes i do wanna come to ur house that is definitely NOTT(!!) haunted. send me ur addy.

Once receiving his address, Mags began to root through her closet for a warmer coat and umbrella. She grabbed her keys, gave Pumpkin an affectionate kiss on her furry little forehead, and gave herself one last look at the mirror. She almost found herself reapplying her mascara and running a brush through her hair, but she fought the urge. This is what she always looks like, and she wasn’t sure why she cared so much about her appearance for this friendly little demonic (but not really) excursion she was about to partake in. Certainly, she’s looked worse before. Liam has seem her adorned in her older brother’s shapeless, oversized sweaters as she hastily arrived seconds before her shift and Niall had seen her when she hadn’t showered in days, bra forgotten, her clothes stained, and remnants of last night’s dinner on her face (although, granted it had been Finals week).

As her blonde companion came to mind, as an afterthought, she shot one more text to Harry; just as a precaution because as attractive as he was, she didn’t know him that well yet. Though she doubted his heart was anything but sincere and good, she had to be safe.

also im bringin niall. the more the merrier rite?? (((:

Niall and Mags stood side by side on the property, their sneakers and boots respectively crunching the orange leaves that littered the lawn, as they gazed up. The house was huge, intricate, a stark contrast against the cloudy gray sky, and beautiful. Hauntingly so. If she believed in ghosts, Mags could envision how one would think this particular house was haunted. The brown and orange wood that made the exterior seemed to indicate that this house could creak when it wasn’t supposed to, the broken shutters revealing that the house holds secrets from its past, the surrounding black iron gates emitting a foreboding sense of doom.

But, she knew how to deal with facts. And the facts were that this house was old as shit and old houses liked to creak. She was sure that Harry probably just had an overactive imagination, which she was here to quell.

“Holy hell, you’re tellin’ me that Harry lives here? In this friggin’ place?” Niall let out a low appreciative whistle, “I’m definitely gonna have to convince him to host a house party here.”

She snorted in response, “Right? He couldn’t have lived in shitty student housing like the rest of us?”

They made their way to the porch, carefully side-stepping planks of rotting wood and loose nails. As Niall knocked, Mags sent a quick text to Harry alerting him of their presence. She’d filled Niall in when she picked him up for this adventure, letting him know that Harry was scared that this house was haunted and that they, soon to be scientists, were going to prove that it was all just hodgepodge. Blasphemous.  A figment of his imagination. And of course, Niall was game, as he always was, his laidback and flexible personality among the many traits that Mags loved about the Irishman. The door creaked open, groaning under the movement of shifting wood, as Harry greeted them with an appreciative smile.

“Hey. Come in. Thanks for doing this, honestly,” he ushered them inside, into the house, “though I’m not sure how smart this idea is, or why you’d be more equipped to tell if this house is haunted more than me, considering one of ya have literally drank yourself into a drunken stupor and became convinced that Big Bird was a part of a larger conspiracy theory.”

“Falsifications!” Niall boasted, while Mags yelled in her defense, “Hey that was literally ONE time!”

Both Harry and Niall shot her a concerned look. “Right,” she realized, “You were referring to Niall because we just met and how could you possibly know that about me? Haha. Moooving on.”

Niall and Harry amicably bickered in the background and Mags wandered off to take in her surroundings. She had every intention of taking off her heavy coat as she surveyed the house, taking in the wood floors, antique furniture, mosaic windows, and high ceilings, but there was a chill in the air, despite the burning fire crackling in fireplace. She turned to question Harry about the temperature, and his eyes were already on her, watching her take everything in with an unidentifiable emotion. Recovering from his unexpected gaze, she questioned, “Why’s it so cold in here? Trying to save money on bills?”

Harry seemed validated by her question, “See! So you notice that too! No matter how much I crank the thermostat or feed wood to the fireplace, it is always chilly in here.”

Niall nodded sagely, “Ah yes. A very common indicator that a house is haunted,” which caused Harry to nod enthusiastically in agreement in having found his kindred spirit and Mags to shoot Niall a look of annoyance.

“Or,” she interjected, “It could mean literally anything else. Climate change can be linked to more severe, harsher winters and this has certainly been a record-breaking cold October.” This, in turn, prompted Niall and Harry to shoot each other a look, as if to fondly say they found her adorable. Huffing slightly, she continued, “Okay, Harry, let’s get down to business. What else is making you think you’re haunted? Tell me everything.”

Harry nodded, “It’s a long story. Let’s get settled on the couch, I’ll grab us some drinks. This is going to be an interesting evening.”

Wine in hand (and a beer for Niall), bodies settled, and fire crackling, the trio sat on the rug and couch, eyes on Harry. He cleared his throat, an odd hush falling over them as he began his tale, “Well, let’s start from the beginning. The reason I even can afford to live in this house is because Bertha, the old widow who owns the place. She used to live here and took a liking to me, so she charges me cheap rent after her granddaughter took her to another state to live with her.”

“Gilf,” Niall responded nodding, as Mags inquired, “Wait, how did you even know Bertha?”

“We played Bingo together,” Harry clarified, which raised more questions, but he didn’t elaborate, “Anyways, I lived here for about a month, no problems other than the usually leaky faucets and the sorts. But one evening,” he broke off, lowering his head to focus on the arms of his sweater stretched over his palm, his fingers twiddling anxiously.

He looks so sad and worried. Mags instinctively reached out and placed a comforting hand on his knee, the warmth of his skin felt through his jeans, causing Harry to look up as she smiled in reassurance.

“Right,” he persisted, “Well, one evening, about a week ago, my friend Louis and I were having drinks and watching horror movies, as a little farewell celebration because he was going to study abroad the next day. Getting into the Halloween spirit y’know? We were drunk and shootin’ the piss, and Louis suggested we hold a séance as he had a Ouija board in his car.”

“He just happened to have a Ouija board in his car?” Mags questioned in disbelief.

“He’s odd like that,” Harry explained, coinciding with Niall’s comment “Yeah, that checks out. Sounds like Louis!” Once again, reminding Mags that Niall was such a social person, and of course he somehow knew this Louis character.

“So we were just being stupid, lighting candles and asking the Ouija board silly questions and really just goofing off,” the sound of the rain grew louder, the droplets slapping against the wooden house and glass windows, prompting Harry to raise his voice to be heard, “And off Louis went to Brazil the next day to study abroad. And over the next few days, things kept happening.”

“Things?” Mags encouraged.

“Things like…I would hear sounds in the night. The wood creaks like someone is walking through the house and I hear strange sounds like scratching on the walls. The lights randomly flicker,” He takes in a shuddering breath, his hands absentmindedly pulling at a loose thread form his sweater in apprehension, “and I dunno, a painting literally fell off the wall in the dead of the night. That is not normal! Sometimes, there’s a weird smell in here, like rotten eggs, and it doesn’t go away no matter how hard I clean or how much air freshener I buy. It is always so cold in here and I haven’t been able to sleep in days, because I feel like something is just…watching me. If I can sleep, it’s only for a little because I’ll have nightmares, or I find myself waking up in the middle of the night.” Harry’s voice gets louder and louder, becoming more agitated and fearful as he recounts, “I can’t take it anymore, but I’m stuck here until the next semester but I’m not sure how much longer I can last.”

A quietness overtakes them, as everyone processes the story. Once again, Harry breaks the silence, “I dunno what we did that night, but I think. I think we definitely woke something.”

Mags stared at him, her heart feeling for him and she so desperately wished she could just give him the answers. Her brain was in overdrive, considering what could be source causing all the strangeness. Sleep deprivation can cause a lot of symptoms, her mind raced, delirium, hallucinations, your cognitive functions skewed because of being loopy. Because she believed, that while he may believe everything he said to be genuine, there were other plausible explanations. Ones that didn’t include the paranormal.

“Well, we’re here for ya mate,” Niall promised as Mags murmured in agreement. “We ain’t leaving ya alone tonight and we’ll be here to hear anything strange.”

Harry exhaled in obvious relief, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Thanks mate,” he said, as Niall cheered and went off to grab himself another beer, leaving the pair alone, “And thank you, Mags. I just, can’t explain it, but I feel better just having you here.” Mags looked at him, the fire dancing in the reflection of his eyes. His words were sincere and made her feel warm despite the chill, alighting her nerves. “Of course,” was all she could muster in response, her voice thick with emotion.

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

Day 5: October 28th, 3 days until Halloween

The rest of last night had passed in a similar fashion. They watched a B-rated cult classic on the Sy-Fy channel, played a rousing game of scrabble in which Niall of all people emerged victorious (the winning word with triple points: craic), and just swapping stories about their lives. It was fun, and Harry had looked the most relaxed that she had ever seen him. But when they woke in the morning, the mood was somber. Niall and Mags hadn’t heard a single peep the entire night, sleeping peacefully until morning, leaving Harry to fret over two options: the fear that he had gone crazy or that they wouldn’t believe him.

Mags was quick to dissipate both fears, assuring him that she would go home, shower, pack herself a bag, and come back again after work. If anything, she knew just having someone there with him helped Harry sleep better than he had in days, and although Niall wouldn’t be able to make it as he had a date night planned with Marisol, Mags wanted to be there for Harry. Harry was kind, Mags discerned, the way he had draped a blanket over her snoring figure last night and had given Niall his extra pillow. And the way she felt when he looked at her? She couldn’t describe. It was unlike any feeling that not even her past boyfriends made her feel, and it was simply small touches and gazes. She felt like a Victorian woman in the early ages, having to fan herself at the slightest contact, becoming undone and exhilarated when Harry had reached to embrace her in a hug earlier that day, his sweater rising to revealing his tanned, taut stomach and a peek of tattoos.

She drifted through work in a haze. She barely could recall any of the customers and she wouldn’t be able to you what she and Liam chatted about throughout her shift. She would get off in the evening, since she was closing again, and Harry insisted on coming to pick her up so they could walk back together to his home. Pumpkin lazily stalked through the aisles of the store, darting between the shelves and under tables as Mags watched in amusement. Mags wanted to bring Pumpkin along for their sleepover, and Harry thought it was a great idea because in his words, “A black cat would totally be able to sense if something was off.” Her bosses were never in the store and she knew Liam didn’t mind Pumpkin’s presence, if the fact that he had spent the latter half of the day cooing at her pink nose and soft paws, giving her belly rubs and half his lunch to share was any indicator.

Though she knew she was being silly, she mused as she kneeled on the worn carpet and shelved a stack of books, she couldn’t help feeling the anticipation and nervousness that usually precedes a date. But it wasn’t a date. She was just feeling this way because Niall wouldn’t be there and it would be just her and Harry in that big old house, alone together. If she was being honest, she would admit that she did wish it was a date. She found herself drawn to Harry, his caring personality and really taken by his dimples and all. His husky, low voice stirred something deep in her stomach, and when she heard the baritone in his throaty voice, coated with sleepiness earlier in the morning? She felt flush and wonderstruck, all at once.

But it wasn’t a date. Facing facts is what she did best. It was just two people on their way to becoming friends, working to prove that his house was not being inhabited by any spirits, that’s all. Completely platonic, normal stuff.

When it was 8 minutes to closing, Mags began to make sure that everything was put away so she could leave on time considering there probably wouldn’t be any last-minute customers, noting that Pumpkin was now currently snoozing near the cash register. She was deep in thought, dusting a particularly dusty shelf, secretly becoming more and more excited at the thought of spending more time with Harry.

“Boo!”

“Holy shit!” Mags’ heart jumped out of her chest, as she whirled around in fear, only to be met with a laughing Harry, one hand outstretched and grasping the bookshelf, the other across his stomach as he doubled over in laughter.

“You’re an idiot!” She declared, without malice, shoving her shoulders against his. “Absolutely awful.”

“Y’know, for a girl who says she isn’t afraid of ghosts, you sure are quite jumpy.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m a girl, Harry. I have real things to fear. Like creepy men that come in here to harass me!”

His eyes flashed with amusement as he leaned against the shelf. “If you want me to leave, just say the word.”

Mags just smiled to herself in response, choosing to ignore his comment. “I’m almost finished up here and then I’ll be ready to go.”

“Y’know,” said Harry, his tone become dramatic and teasing, “This is where we first met. When you first accosted me here, in this very aisle – “

“I did NOT accost you! You have to admit you were acting so suspicious!” Mags exclaimed indignantly. She straightened out one of the books and wondered aloud, “But it’s a bit crazy innit? That we just came into each other’s lives a mere four days ago?”

“Crazy,” Harry agreed, his sudden low and husky tone causing Mags to look up at him. “Feels like I’ve known you forever.” His eyes caught her with an unrecognizable expression, and Mags stared back, unable to look away. It’s like she was in a trance. Harry takes a step towards her, closing the small gap between them, standing so close that she could feel the warmth exuding from his chest, could see the freckles that dotted his green eyes, could practically hear his heart beating in his chest. Now was it just her or was his heart beating very, very fast?

Another second passes between them and Harry brings up his hand, placing it affectionally against her cheek, as Mags impulsively nuzzles against his palm. He leans in, closing the virtually non-existence gap between, his eyes focused on her lips, and all she could think was Is he going to – Is this really happening?

“Please tell me you guys are still open!” An unfamiliar voice shouts, as a male college student races in, eyes frantic and voice desperate.

Harry and Mags spring apart, their bodies separating as they turned to face the newcomer.

“I’ve got a paper due tonight on a book that I haven’t read. Please tell me you’re open and that you have Shakespeare!”

“Y-yes,” Mags answered, her voice a little shaky as she avoids looking at Harry, “Technically, we’re still open for another 2 minutes. You said Shakespeare? Which one?”

The boy looks around, scanning the books in the aisle before answering, “William, I think.”

She lets out a huge sigh before finally looking at Harry. “I’m just gonna help this last customer and then we can lock up and head out.” “I’ll be waiting.”

She guides the customer to the classic literature section; On the outside, she was explaining how prolific of an author Shakespeare was but internally, she was still thinking about her interaction with Harry. They were already becoming so close. When people get close, Mags discovered from her 23 years on Earth, they find the things they like and appreciate about you. But it’s a double-edge sword. That kind of intimacy also reveals the unpleasant things, it gives the other an opportunity to see the all the little things that makes a person real. Real was messy and not always pleasant. What if Harry saw all the little things that made Mags real – her tendency to ramble, her need to always have opinions about everything that she often loudly expressed, her struggle to be emotionally vulnerable with others – and decided that she’s easier to admire from afar. It was always a fear of hers, one of those doubts deep within her heart that she’d never expressed, never spoken into existence, but that still dwelled profoundly within; the fear that the more you got to know her, the harder she’d become to love.

In the middle of asking the customer probing questions, and finally being able to deduce he was looking for Othello, she turned to look at Harry who was across the shop. Just like countless times before, she found that his eyes were already on her.

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

“Okay,” Mags twisted the key into the lock and pulled the door of the bookstore before turning to face Harry, “We are good to go.”

It took Mags seemingly forever to get the last customer checked out and out of the store. She and Harry seemed to have an unspoken agreement to not speak of whatever it was that almost happened between them.

Harry lifted the cat carrier up into his arms as Pumpkin let out an adorable little mewl, begging for attention. Harry stuck his finger between the bars, laughing as Pumpkin’s pink tongue darted out to lick his finger. “Well, how about this? We go drop Pumpkin off at my house and let her get settled. And then how about you and I go grab some dinner. There’s a diner nearby and I’m sure you’re famished,” Harry suggested, all the while playing with Pumpkin and not meeting her eye.

On the outside, Mags was cool, calm, and collected and she offhandedly remarked, “Sure” in agreement. But on the inside, she was a whirlwind of emotions. Dinner? Like a date? I’m not ready for this. I mean, I know I was just wishing this was a date but maybe I should have wished that I’d have the foresight to have changed into a top that didn’t have a coffee stain on it or to have applied some gloss before coming to work today. She felt so unprepared.

But then Harry’s looked at her when she responded affirmatively, his eyes shining happily and a broad grin overtook his face, and suddenly, she didn’t quite feel so panicked. It was as if he was nervous that she’d shoot his idea down. Anew with confidence, she stated, “Lead the way.”

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

The diner that Harry had chosen was very kitschy, decorated in a way that heavy handedly embraced the retro 80’s vibe, with neon signs and polyester covers on the booths. The diner even got into the Halloween spirit, as evident by the fake bats that were hung all around the place, and the jack-o-lantern tablecloths covering each tabletop. Harry and Mags were seated across from each other, staring at the menu, as a male artist’s voice crooned from the juke box, singing about holding hands.

“So,” Mags began as she finished assessing the menu, “My options are either a hamburger or a cheeseburger. How ever will I decide?”

Harry laughed at her reaction to the limited food options. “What can I say? Don’t need really need too many options when everything tastes amazing.” Ordering a cheeseburger and coke for herself, Harry followed suit, and Mags inquired, “You come here often?” “Yeah,” Harry admitted, his fingers interlocked and resting atop the table, “I just really like the vibes. It’s also a 24-hour diner and I’ve been coming here more often within the past week, since I’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

Right. Harry’s haunting problem. She’d almost completely forgotten, but she wasn’t really to blame. Was she really supposed to stay focused when she and Harry had walked to the diner, their arms intertwined, chatting about anything and everything? When he sat only a few feet across from her, trying to catch her eye but also nervously looking away?

“Hopefully, you can finally start getting some rest soon enough. Maybe we’ll finally be able to put this whole ghost business to rest tonight,” she suggested optimistically.

He gave her a sad smile in return. “Hopefully,” he said, his voice betraying the fact that he didn’t really believe that to be true.  

Her heart ached for him once more, so she decided to change the subject. “What song is this anyway? I kinda like it. It’s cute and – what?”

Harry regarded her strangely. “What’d ya mean who is this? It’s the Beatles.”

“Like the bug?” she joked, before quickly admitting, “I’m kidding, I know of the Beatles. I just don’t usually listen to this kind of music, now don’t go and have a heart attack,” she explained as Harry eyes had initially widened at her statement.

“So, what kind of music do you usually listen to?”

“I’m definitely a top 40’s kind of girl,” Mags responded, shifting in her seat. She thanked the waitress, who adorned a festive witch’s hat, as she set down their cokes and began to work on unwrapping her straw, planning to blow the wrapper at an unsuspecting Harry’s face.

“Top 40’s? What’s that?”

“Y’know,” she responded, “Like, the top 40 songs that are most popular on the charts. The songs that are always playing on the radio.” Harry held his hand against his chest, as if he couldn’t fathom anything worse. “You are so pretentious!” She laughed, “Those songs are popular for a reason!”

Harry laughed too, making sure to let Mags know that he was really just teasing her, no malice behind his mockery. “And just when I thought there was absolutely nothing wrong with you, you go ahead and admit to that.”

Mags couldn’t help her own smile from creeping across her face. “I’m far from perfect Harry.”

There’s a look of affection that seems to flash in Harry’s eyes and Mags flushes, not really sure how to deal with it. “Yeah?” he responds, looking down to swirl the condensation pooling at the bottom of his glass of coke, “Could’ve fooled me.”

The rest of their dinner passed by in a similar fashion. Comfortable jokes, casual conversations, and longing looks passing between them. It was the first time that Mags had ever seen Harry look truly happy. She decided it was a good look on him, and right then and there, she made a silent vow to herself that she would do everything in her power to keep that happiness. Even if it meant she’d have to face the devil himself.

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

Although Harry’s house was cold, it was still much warmer than the bitter icy wind howling outside. Entering his home, Mags immediately took off her shoes and coat, with Harry following suit. She looked to him to see where she should place her coat, and when he removed his dark peacoat and tossed it over an armchair, so did she. He was wearing a cranberry colored crew neck sweater, and he wore it well, leading Mags to ponder if his closets were just an endless supply of comfy clothes, each cozier than the last. Not wanting to be caught eyeing him, she shuffled into the living room, pausing to scratch Pumpkin under her chin, just like she liked it, and to drop her duffle bag onto the floor.

“There a bathroom just down the hall, if you’d like to change into your pajamas there,” Harry offered. He scratched the back of his neck, “I’m just gonna, um, go in my room and change into mine to give you some privacy. I’ll meet you back out here and maybe we can watch a movie or something?”

“Sure,” she replied, somewhat amused. In the bathroom, she changed into her pajamas, which consisted of an old Maroon 5 shirt she had from years ago and a pair of soft fleece pajamas. When packing earlier that day, she had briefly considered wearing something a bit more flattering, but she realized it was futile because she liked to be comfortable when she slept, let alone the fact she didn’t actually own any proper sleepover, her pajama wardrobe made of oversized promotional t-shirts unsuitable for public wear. She washed her face and turned to face her reflection in the mirror. She gazed at her big, brown eyes, droplets of water tinting the tips of her lashes. Her warm tawny brown skin seemed dull and washed out under the harsh fluorescent bathroom lighting. Her dark hair was due for a haircut, and in its windswept state, wasn’t doing her any favors. She swept back her hair into a high ponytail, the stubborn baby hairs quickly reclaiming their rightful spot by framing her face.

Mags was never one of those girls that couldn’t acknowledge that she was pretty (not that girls who struggled with their beauty were less than, everyone had their own struggles. Mags was a large supporter of girls and wouldn’t speak ill of her sisters). She found that she did quite well with the male population, garnering attention when she so desired, and sometimes unwanted attention as well (looking at you, creepy Walmart man that had the audacity to comment on her big boobs just because she wasn’t wearing a bra). But then men she usually gave the time of day weren’t men of substance. Usually, she sought them out for something physical sans the intimacy. But something about Harry had her feeling self-conscious, unnerved. Raw. It was like he was appreciating her outer beauty but also truly seeing her, erratic enthusiasm and all. And even more baffling? He seemed to like what he saw.

Mags broke out of her reverie and found Harry lounging on the couch, remoted aimed at the tv as he flipped through channels. He looked up and automatically offered her one of his signature smiles, “You look lovely,” he commented nonchalantly.

“Thanks,” she responded reservedly. She joined him, careful to sit on the other end of the couch and looked around. “Where’s Pumpkin?”

“I put her on my bed,” Harry confessed, “Figured it’d be more comfortable than the hardwood floor.” “You’re gonna spoil her,” Mags snickered, “She’s used to sleeping atop the rusty radiator in my apartment.”

Harry and Mags quickly decided they should watch a movie, both wanting to stay in each other’s presence for a little while longer but struggling to find the words to express as such. Picking a movie, however, was a more difficult challenge as Harry felt that he’d had enough horror in his life to last a lifetime and couldn’t bear to suffer through another horror film, prompting Mags to put on “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before,” partially because she wanted to annoy Harry and partially because she just thought the move was really cute, okay? The joke was on her, because apparently Harry loved romance films and was really into the movie.

As entertaining as the movie was, both found their eyes wandering from the screen, looking at each other and quickly glancing away. Mags was very hyperaware of Harry’s presence on the couch, aware of his every movement. It was like her body was in tune with his. Meanwhile, Harry couldn’t help himself. He automatically gravitated to her, like he was seeking out warmth that only she could give. Mid-movie, they found themselves to be sitting side by side, practically no space between them. If Harry wanted to, he could reach out and enclose her hand with his.

And he wants to. And so he does.

And she doesn’t pull away.

They don’t speak, just hold hands, the only source of light illuminating from the television. Neither saying a word in fear of breaking the moment. Harry finds that for the first time in a while, he feels safe. Safe and happy. He hopes she feels the same way. 

Needing to hear her voice, to get some reassurance, Harry breaks the silence once again, his eyes never leaving the scene playing out on the television. “I don’t get this part. Why is Lara Jean so scared to be with Peter? She’s so hesitant when he obviously cares for her and she does too.”

“I think it makes sense. It’s pretty accurate,” Mags responds, shrugging slightly. “Yeah? Why’s that?” “Because,” Mags bites her cheek in contemplation, “Love is scary, y’know? And letting yourself fall for someone? That’s…well, it’s terrifying.” “Not if it’s the right person,” Harry said with all the sincerity of an honest man, before quickly adding as an afterthought, “And obviously, Peter is the right person for Lara-Jean.” “Right, for Lara-Jean,” Mags agreed a little too quickly, “But it’s still scary nonetheless. Some guys aren’t all that great. It’s hard. To trust someone else, to trust them with your vulnerability, to let them know every part of you, and trust them not to hurt you.”

Harry broke the spell. He no longer referred to the characters and implicated himself. “Y’know I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you, right? I…I care about you. You do know that, don’t you?”

As she peers up at him through her lashes and meets his widened eyes, she becomes mindful of how close they had leaned towards each other. She fidgets under his intense gaze, his green eyes piercing through her own. She feels the warmth of his hand on her thigh as he inches closer until his forehead rests against her. A loose stray curl tickles her cheek and his lips just barely brush against hers. She hesitates for only a moment before deepening the kiss, pressing her lips against his forcefully. He pulls away, his pupils blown and the smallest of smiles playing on his lips, and his eyes scan her face for reassurance. Whatever he’s looking for, he must find because he rushes to close the gap and his soft lips captures hers again. She responds eagerly and her hand cups the nape of his neck. His tongue lightly sweeps across her bottom lips before slipping into her mouth, making her hum in approval.

He gently pushes her back until she’s lying on the couch. He breaks the kiss for only a moment to pull off his t-shirt and toss it carelessly across the room before swinging his legs over her until he’s practically straddling her. One hand flies to his head, pulling at his curls as the other rakes it’s fingernails into his shoulder. She angles her head back and lets out a sharp intake of breath as he leaves a trail of wet kisses down her neck. She feels the hand resting on her lower back slide up and swiftly unclasp her bra. His hands explore her body until he’s palming her breast, grazing her nipple and rolling it between his fingers, making her gasp. Harry always thought of himself as an ass man, but now, in this moment, he has a newfound appreciation for breasts. Her tongue darts between his lips hungrily and he pulls his body closer to hers, grinding steadily. She can feel her whole body on fire, the tingling sensation spreading to the pit of her stomach. Her hands immediately go for the band of his pants, but she breaks away suddenly, and he outwardly moans at the loss of contact.

“What – What is it? Are we moving too fast?” Harry questions, panting rapidly.

Mags places a hand against his chest, as Harry allows her to push him upright and she follows suit, both now sitting up.

He would never forgive himself if he had pushed her and scared her away. “We can slow down. I didn’t mean to –“ “No, shhhhh,” Mags harshly shushed him. “Don’t you hear that?” And suddenly, they’re still, unmoving like stone. The house just as quiet as the two, the only sound filling the air is their own ragged breathing stabilizing. In the silence, just as suddenly, another loud creaking resounded against the wooden interior.

“Okay,” Harry said anxiously, his eyes wandering upwards from where the sound was seemingly coming from, “I heard that.” “Do you think it’s Pumpkin?”

“I’m gonna go with no, considering Pumpkin’s right there by the fireplace.” And sure enough, Mags turned to see her kitten had at some point, bounded into the room and found comfort beside the warm flames.

Then an even more frightening sound could be heard. Mags would describe it as heavy, a hefty thumping sound that was very different from something that could be explained away, like the light scurrying of a rat.

Harry would describe it as footsteps.

It was irrational. Mags couldn’t explain it. She didn’t know what making that sound, but she did know that the sound was frightening her. She couldn’t rationally chalk it up to the characteristic creaking of an old house or wood settling, the thumps were too loud, too sporadic. Logically, she knew she should use the flashlight on her phone and go straight to the sound source. But the fact of the matter is, she’s scared. 

Just when she began to steady her racing heart rate and begin to think she could work up the nerve to go investigate the sound, a sudden crash came from the other side of the room, causing her to yelp in surprise and clutch Harry’s arm in fear. One of the picture frames that Harry had hung on the wall fell on to the ground, the glass shattered from the impact. It just fell. Nothing to cause it, as if the material had literally leaped from the wall to its untimely death. “Fat load of good you are,” Mags glared at Pumpkin who, unbeknownst to the danger, was playing with a discarded bottle cap.

Harry put in quick work to shrug his sweater over his shoulders, and then taking care to ensure that Mags wasn’t too frightened. “Well, at least now you believe me?”

“Believe you?” Mags asked in disbelief, facing him “I more than believe you. I think, I think we should get outta here. Let’s just go stay at my place.” She frantically stood up, brushing her stray hairs from her face, trying to clear her mind so she could form rational thoughts. Harry stood up just as suddenly, standing next to her, holding her elbow and shoulder, pulling her towards him in a comforting hug. 

“We need to come up with a game plan,” she said, her breath slightly muffled as she nuzzles her face against his sweater clad chest. “I think it’s best if we just spend the night at my apartment. And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Harry questioned encouragingly. 

“We’re going to do whatever it takes. A cleansing. Research. Anything to un-haunt this house, because this shit? It’s scary.”

They both spared one last glance upwards, to where the sound was coming from, an array of emotions filling the room; frightened (Mags, because ghosts can’t exist, they just can’t. It transcends the rules of physical science!), agitated (Harry because how could he be so dense as to put Mags in danger, though he figures that once she sets her mind to something, there’s no stopping her), and confused (Pumpkin, wondering why the humans were looking up when she was right here, as she softly mewls from the lack of attention).

_______________________________________________________________________

Day 6, October 29th, 1 day until Halloween.

The sun filtered in through the linen curtains, illuminating the white sheets beside her, warming her skin and giving her a bronze glow. Mags slowly peeled her eyes open, immediately noticing Harry’s absence. His side of the bed was empty, and Mags wasn’t sure how to feel. Was it really just a few hours ago that her world was shook by the presence of ghosts? If science wasn’t solid, then what else was there to rely on?

Once they got to her place, they were both too strung-out and tired to do anything. They shuffled under the covers and slept in her small bed, sleeping together in the most innocent way possible. The only touching was the hand holding that occurred under the bed, which although much less risqué than what happened last night had it not been for the potential ghost encounter, the thought of which still made Mags warm and blush. Stretching out her limbs and gathering her relentless hair into a manageable bun, she created an itinerary for herself. Bathroom first. Find Harry, second. Figure out what happened last night, third. Although she wasn’t so sure about the last one. Did she want to figure out the ominous sound they heard or figure out exactly what happened between her and Harry last night? All she knew was, it was way too early for this.

Once emerging from the bathroom, she tuned into the sounds of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen, immediately deducing Harry’s whereabouts. She knew it couldn’t possibly be Marisol, because she’d never be up this early, and she knew she had spent the night at Niall’s place.

His back was facing her, his shoulders moving as he poured batter into a frying pan, Pumpkin nuzzling against his ankles. Mags didn’t even know they owned a frying pan. Marisol and Mags mainly lived off of frozen dinners, take-outs, and Niall’s generous discounts at the café where he occasionally moonlights as a waiter.

“G’morning,” she croaked, alerting Harry to her presence. She cleared her throat and tried again, “Mornin’, Harry. What’s all this?” “I’m making pancakes,” He turned, greeting her drowsy appearance, his voice thickened with lack of use, guttural and raw. “Ran out to the convenience store this morning and grabbed some ingredients. Figured we could both use a hearty breakfast.”

Mags hummed in appreciation, rubbing a sweater-clad fist over her dreary eyes, sleepily offering help which Harry firmly denied and directed her to sit at the small kitchen table. “Are the pancakes chocolate chip?” “Is there any other way?” Harry responds, smiling warmly at her sleepy antics. He sets a plate of scrambled eggs and chocolate chip pancakes in front of her, placing a bottle of syrup within her reach without her having to ask.

Mags suddenly felt out her element. She wasn’t used to this kind of treatment with any guy she had ever been with, and she technically hadn’t even been with Harry. Was she meant to kiss him in appreciation? He was so tender in everything he did, always putting her needs and comfort first. The situation was foreign to her, so domestic and comfortable that it made her feel uncomfortable. “Um, thank you – It all looks delicious,” she finally managed to stammer out.

Harry carried his own plate of food in one hand, his other opening the fridge to grab a carton of orange juice. Witnessing how comfortable he seemed to be in her small apartment made her unnerved, but it was also exciting. Thrilling.

As he sat across from her, their eyes met once again. “I figure,” Harry began, “I mean, I think that we should probably talk about what happened last night. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Mags agreed, nervously wringing her fingers, “Good idea. It…scared me. Um, I didn’t like it.”

Harry’s face blanched for a moment before he smoothed his features into an expressionless façade. “You didn’t?”

“Of course, I didn’t, it was just so…I don’t know how to put it. It all happened so fast, one thing after the other. It’s a lot to process.

Harry nodded slowly, gently, as if Mags was fragile and he was handling the situation delicately, although she couldn’t figure why. “It is a lot. And it was a bit fast. Maybe we need to just slow down and figure out what it meant?” He suggested nervously.

Mags eyed him in confusion, his apprehensive demeanor puzzling her, as she continued speaking. “It was just so unexpected. I didn’t think that was going to happen when I went to your place last night. It was so awful.” Harry’s brows furrowed together, looking wounded, as he murmured, “I mean, well me neither but I don’t think it was necessarily a bad th-“ “What do you mean you weren’t expecting it?” Mags probed, pausing to chew her scrambled eggs, “it certainly seems like you were positive that it would happen.”

Harry’s face, despite his efforts, flashed with hurt. “Well, I mean, I hoped it would happen but of course I wasn’t expecting anything. I just –” Abandoning his food, he rubbed his hands over his curls, then dropped them to rest against his knees, palms up as if pleading, “Look, I really, really like you and obviously it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way but I really thought - ”

“Who says I don’t feel the same way?” Mags questioned in confusion, wondering if perhaps Harry, as cute as he was, might’ve been a few screws short. Guess people truly can’t have it all.  

Meanwhile, Harry’s own face contorted in confusion, his voice borderline hysterical. “What do you mean who says, you says! I mean, you just said that you didn’t like what happened last night.”

“Right,” Mags nodded empathetically, “The noise we heard really scared me and I think it’s quite normal to not like the fact you have an actual fucking ghost in your house.”

A beat passed. Then another.

“Did you think I was talking about, whatever happened between us?” Mags clarified, gesturing at their bodies. When Harry offered a sheepish look in response, Mags smiled with fondness, putting her fork down on her plate. “You’re silly. Let me be clear. Ghosts? Bad. Harry and Mags? Good. I’m not sure exactly what happened between us last night, but I like you. I think it should happen again, minus the paranormal encounter. Not just the, erm, the touching part. The diner part. The talking part too. We can table that for now and come back to it when we aren’t in fear of lurking ghosts. We can figure that part out together.” The relief that washed over Harry couldn’t have been more evident. “Oh thank god, I’m so happy to hear you say that,” and when Harry was happy, Mags couldn’t help but think that the sun was trapped within him, warmth, comfort, and blinding brightness and all. “And um, what about the other thing? The ghost thing?” Mags beamed at him, at the 6-foot boy that towers in her small apartment but looks over at all five feet of her with concern and care, before replying, “We can figure that part out together too. I have a game plan.”

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

After the tenderness and confusion of their morning breakfast, Harry and Mags got dressed for the day, each renewed with a determination to solve this ghost problem of theirs once and for all. It wasn’t just Harry’s problem anymore. Harry’s safety and happiness were now Mags’ priority as well. Cleaning up and getting dressed took a little longer than usual, as they spared moments to steal glances and accidental touches. By the time they made it out of her apartment, the sun was brilliantly shining in the sky, for once the skies clear of any clouds, and it was noon.

Mags truly did have an anti-ghost plan. And she intended to put it to use before tomorrow. It was as she explained to Harry, that tomorrow was Halloween, and everyone knows that on All Hallows Eve, the world between the paranormal and normal collided. Her extensive repertoire of horror movies led her to confidently assert that the if the dead were to roam the earth, then Halloween would be the best night to so do. She figured that now since science and everything she’s ever known has changed; she might as well rely on literature to guide them through this ordeal.

“So, first on our agenda is to seek out a priest,” Harry commented, eyes squinting at the sun, hand firmly holding hers. “Which church should we go to?” “Askin’ the wrong person here,” Mags chuckled while gesturing to herself, “Nearest mosque, I could help ya with. But church?” “Right,” he said, blushing despite her obvious joking tone, “Well, I guess we’ll have to trust google?”

Finding the church was easy enough. Getting the minister to believe that they weren’t pulling a prank was a little trickier. After much clarification and pleading, they left the church armed with some information.

“I dunno about you, but this bottle of holy water has me feeling a bit indestructible,” Harry joked, wagging the holy water tauntingly. Mags owns hands clutched the pewter candlestick holders and candles the church had generously donated to them. Though they had initially hoped for the church to interfere with their dilemma, the resources and tips they provided would just have to do. “Although,” Harry said, raising his eyebrows, “I must say, I’m surprised.” “Why? ‘Cuz I thought of such a brilliant plan?” “No. I’m shocked that you were able to last that entire trip to the church without swearing even once.” Mags opened her mouth, feigning offence, before shoving him. “So, what’s next?” Harry questions, after composing his laughter, “A psychic?”

“A medium,” Mags corrected.

“Oh, I didn’t know there was a difference,” Harry admitted good-naturedly.

“Me neither,” Mags confessed, but google sure did.

As they followed the GPS directions to the location of where the medium was located, Harry had another question. “How’d you pick this medium? Does she specialize in ghosts and exorcisms?” “Hmm?” She said, looking up, “Oh no, she just had the best Yelp rating.” She scrolls through her phone, thumbing through the device before presenting it to Harry. “And, she’s got a Halloween special going on right now. 50% off for her services. Pretty crafty of me, huh?”

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

The medium, a woman named Clair LeMadeline, had looked relatively normal. Her red hair curled into define ringlets and her eyes were a piercing blue. She was wearing a simple pea blouse and black slacks. The only thing that was even considerably odd about her appearance was her green eyeshadow, bold and unnaturally glittery. She was a stark contrast from what Mags was expecting, which was a woman, possibly raven haired, with a crystal ball in a dark room with thick purple drapes.

Even more so, she had hoped the woman would be able to help them out a bit more. For someone who claimed to have a unique ability to hover between two worlds and a connection with spirits without a physical body, she wasn’t really helpful.

Mags recalled the only bit of information that was slightly useful. Clair had taken Harry’s hands into her own, hoping to get a ‘read’ on his aura.

“Ah yes,” she had said, her sharp nails outlining the lines on Harry’s palm, “I’m sensing something here. I see that recently in your life, you’ve come upon some suffering.”

“Yes!” Harry fervently nodded, with Mags reservedly watching from his side.

“Your future,” Clair continued melodramatically, her eyes tightly shut as she focused, “it’s blurry. Unclear. I see, red liquid. Lots and lots of red. It’s staining your shirt, dripping onto your shoes, there’s so much red.”

Harry’s face pales, dread overcoming him, as he frantically tightens his hold on the medium’s own hands. “Is it blood?”

“Hard to say, but my best guess is that it is indeed blood. Yes, I can see that. And, you’ve suffered a great loss. I also see here that you’re a widower.”

“Erm, no,” Harry confessed, pulling his hands back slightly, “I’ve never even been married. Way off base.”

The medium had looked slightly put out with that comment, “Well, I never. Surely you must’ve been married. With those dimples and a body like that, you’ve probably had your fair share of wives. You don’t have to lie to impress your little girly over here,” she harrumphed, gesturing towards Mags.

“Okaaay,” Mags announced, offering the medium a tight polite smile, “I think we’re done here.”

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

“That was a waste of time,” Harry groaned. “She was obviously a scam artist. Also, I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.” He glanced at his watch and groaned even more audibly, “And we’re running out of daylight. Halloween is tomorrow. What are we gonna do?”

“That woman certainly was…a lot of things,” Mags said, carefully choosing her words, “But she was surprisingly helpful.” Harry brows furrowed, his face distorting in disbelief. “Think about what she called you,” Mags explained, answering his unasked question. “She said that you were a widower.” “And you believed her?” He explained, “Mags, I’ve never – “ Huffing slightly, she interrupted his speech, “Okay, no. Obviously, I’m not an idiot. But that just got me thinking. Didn’t you say Bertha was a widow? Do you know anything about her husband? Maybe we can look into his death. Maybe his spirit was awoken by the Ouija board and it’s restless for some reason and unless we help him with his unfinished business, he can’t pass over to the other side.” “You’re a genius,” Harry commented, which prompted Mags to thank him and inform him with sincerity that it was all because she watched a lot of Buzzfeed Unsolved. “I don’t know much about her husband, but I know how we can find out more.”

And that’s how Harry and Mags found themselves standing on the steps outside the town’s public library. Harry’s idea was brilliant, Mags had to admit. The town newspaper always printed the obituaries for residents that passed. Older editions of the newspaper could be accessed using the microfiche. Even more promising was that if Bertha’s late husband had passed under unusual circumstances, the paper was sure to have done a story over it. But even with a great idea put into action, and their hopes and spirits renewed, Mags couldn’t help the nauseous pit growing in her stomach.

As they embarked up the steps, Harry looked over at Mags in concern. “You okay there? You look a little green.”

“Hmm?” She feigned ignorance, “No, I’m fine.” Harry opened the door, ushering her inside before stepping into the heated building. “Must’ve been something I ate.” “My pancakes have you feeling nauseous?” Harry exclaimed in concern.

Oops. Right, Mags had forgotten that the only thing she’d eaten today was Harry’s cooking. This was why she hated lying – she was bad at it.

“Hush, Harry,�� is the route she decided to go with, “We’re in a library. We don’t wanna disturb the other patrons.” She gestured to the room, mentally groaning when she saw that the library was jam-packed with three other people, a young girl and her mother were fiddling on the computers, and an old man that was sleeping on one of the armchairs. Or, at least Mags hoped he was sleeping. One would think the library would be more popular on a Friday night.

Harry shot her another concerning look but chose to drop the matter, for now. In fear of being shushed again, he gestured to the circulation help desk, indicating that they should ask one of the library assistants where they could find the catalogued newspapers. As they approached the desk, Mags legs felt like they were heavy lead as she dragged them across the carpeted floor. She just needed an excuse to slip away for five minutes and then this upcoming crisis could be averted.

She stopped in her tracks, spinning around to face Harry. “I, um, need to go to the bathroom. It’s an emergency. Not that you asked,” She nervously chuckled. “Anyways,” she pushed Harry’s back towards the help desk, “Why don’t you ask where we can find the newspapers while I’m gone and I’ll just meet you there and – ” “Magnolia?” The voice came from behind her, just as smoky and honeyed as she remembered.

She froze in her tracks. This cannot be happening. I’m a good person she thought, I fast during Ramadan. I try to be nice to others. I’m fairly sure that I pay all my taxes. Why is this happening to me? Would it be too late for her to make a run for it? She could just tell Harry it was an emergency and then meet him back at his house once he acquired the information.

Just as she began to inch towards the exit, the voice called out again. “Magnolia, that is you! I thought it was. I’d recognize you anywhere. ” Ignoring Harry’s look of confusion, she turned around reluctantly. She looked at the other boy, his dark hair perfectly styled atop his head, not a strand out of place. His cheekbones sharp and proudly protruding, his lips slightly turned into a familiar smile. Unlike her, his brown skin didn’t seem to have a problem with dulling under florescent lights, as he was golden and glowing. One tatted arm reached out to embrace her in a hug, pulling her softly against his chest, before pulling back to get a look at her. “You look good,” he professed, looking at her intently form head to toe, “Beautiful like always.” From her peripheral, she could see that Harry certainly didn’t like that, if his body language was any indicator as he crossed his arms and shifted his stance to stand closers to Mags.

“Zayn,” she greeted, trying to modulate her voice and stifle her feelings of panic. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” “At the library?” Zayn questioned, “Where I work?”

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” She nervously answered. Just as she was going to grab Harry’s arm and steer them away from the upcoming train wreck, Harry himself piped up. “I’m sorry. Mags hasn’t introduced us. Who are you?”

Zayn looked at Harry, as if he just registered that Mags wasn’t alone. “This is Zayn,” Mags answered quickly, “He’s my –”

“I’m Magnolia’s ex-boyfriend,” Zayn interrupted, reaching over to shake Harry’s hand, muscles tightening, jaw clenched, “She and I used to date.”

“He knows what ex means,” Mags hissed.

“Oh really?” Harry responded, his face unreadable, “Funny. Mags actually hasn’t even mentioned you.” His emphasis on her preferred nickname was evident to both Zayn and Mags, because Harry was as subtle as horse. “I’m Harry.”

Mags, despite the train wreck happening before her very eyes, was relieved that Harry introduced himself. She didn’t know what title she would’ve given him. She didn’t even know what they were. They were in some weird limbo until this ghost mess was past them. What would she have said? Harry piping up saved her from the verbal onslaught that would’ve been sure to follow. Hi, yes Zayn, my ex-boyfriend who broke my heart, this is Harry, a boy that I almost slept with and really want to sleep with but haven’t yet because I was cock-blocked by a ghost. Anyways, can you point us to the non-fiction section?

“Um,” Mags spoke, breaking the palpable tension, “While we have you here Zayn, we could actually use your help with some questions.”

Ignoring Harry’s disgruntled expression and Zayn’s self-satisfied smirk, she continued on. “Aren’t you doing your senior thesis on like witchcraft or something of that nature?”

“It’s on magical realism and occult fiction,” He clarified, before giving her a sly smile, warmer and more comfortable than his smirk, looking more like the Zayn she knew. “Y’know, all that haram and Jinn stories that used to bother the hell out of ya.”

Despite not wanting to, she couldn’t help but smile in return. “Right,” she warmed at the mention of their insider, “Well, we could use your help. For your research, did you come across anything about how to perform an exorcism on a house that’s possessed by a ghost?”

Zayn, to his credit, didn’t bat an eye at her odd question. He was used to Mags’ antics. “Yeah, from what I’ve read, the best bet is to light some sage. Ask the ghosts what they want and try to get them what they need, and they’ll leave.” He paused as if he truly registered what he just asked her, and then eyed Harry suspiciously. “But I know you. You don’t believe in that kinda stuff.”

“It’s nothing,” Mags lied, wanting to end this conversation, like, five minutes ago. “Can you tell us where the newspaper archives are? Ones from like 10 years ago?”

Heading towards the corner of the library that Zayn pointed them to, Harry and Mags walked in silence. Unable to take it anymore, Mags spoke up. “So, that was Zayn. My ex-boyfriend. But you already know that.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Harry assured her. And it seemed like he truly meant that sentiment, his voice unwavering and genuine He didn’t seem the slightest bit accusatory, no hint of sarcasm lining his tone, which was so unlike what she was used to when she was dating Zayn. Not that she was dating Harry, but she and Zayn had a knack for being able to get under each other’s skin. Had the roles been reversed, Zayn wouldn’t have let that interaction go, hounding Mags for more answers to impossible questions until they’d inevitably get into another one of their infamous fights. Zayn was an English major, through and through, envious and passionate. He felt deeply as an artist and fought just as dramatically too.

It was the fact that Harry was nothing like Zayn that encouraged her to share. “No, I want to explain,” She insisted, as they carried a stack of newspapers to a table, ready to dive into their town’s obituaries. “Zayn and I, well, he and I dated for a good while. It was one of those things where, when it was good, it was really good, y’know? But when it was bad? It was awful.”

Harry encouragingly nodded, his green eyes looking to her in sincerity, letting her tell the story at her own pace. “Well,” Mags exhaled, “It was serious. One of the most serious relationships I’ve ever had. But it didn’t work out. Obviously. We were just too different. We both retreated when we were hurt and angry instead of talking things out. And it wasn’t just his fault, it was both of ours. It wasn’t anything dramatic or serious. We just broke up because we never really tried our best, never gave our best effort to fix our problems.” She recalled the months after the end of their relationship, Mags tried her best to hold it together, but it really did wound her. “The break-up still sucked though,” she admitted. She may act collected and composed, but when she does let someone into her heart, it’s different. If it wasn’t for Niall and Marisol, she wasn’t sure if she’d have gotten through it.

Harry placed his hand atop of hers, taking care to look into her eyes. “He’s the guy that broke your heart, isn’t he? The reason that you’re scared to be vulnerable with someone.”

Mags kept her gaze on the stack of newspaper, unable to meet his eyes, wordlessly nodding in affirmation.

“Well, thank you for sharing that with me,” Harry said earnestly, reaching over to put a finger under Mags chin, turning her face so they were looking at each other. “Thanks for being vulnerable with me.” Mags raised her gaze, smiling at the kindness of the boy who sat across from her, unsure how to respond.

She needn’t worry though because she didn’t have to reply. “Anyways,” he continued, “We have a ghost to get rid of. Let’s get to looking through this decade’s worth of obituaries.”

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

As they started to head back to the house, Mags was a ball of nerves, filled with anticipation. The trip to the library had been a success. Mags was able to find Bertha’s late husband, Tom’s, obituary. It simply stated that he passed due to a head contusion, with no information on how it occurred. News must’ve been slow that week because Harry then found the real treasure: an investigative article that revealed more information about Tom’s death. They discovered that Tom and Bertha had gotten into an argument, over something silly as she had to remind him multiple times to check the circuit breaker in the basement. Tom had begrudgingly gone to do so when one the wires in the breakers shocked him with a small current of electricity. The electrical shock didn’t kill him, but it did surprise him enough so that he stepped back, falling over and hitting his head on the edge of his workbench. The death was quick and painless, the article assured readers, but Mags still felt awful while reading it. Poor Tom, she thought, and poor Bertha. Even more so, it was a bit unsettling to Harry that a death had occurred in the house in which he was currently living.

As they had prepared to leave the library earlier, armed with knowledge and a secure plan to conduct their exorcism, Zayn had caught up with them, giving Mags a bottle of sage that he had lying around in his office that he acquired during his thesis research.

Now, she and Harry trekked back to the house, loaded with goodies that would hopefully guarantee an end to the paranormal activities; bottle of holy water, pewter candlesticks, and a bottle of sage, not to mention everything that they learned throughout the day. As she mentally recounted the day’s hectic and odd events, she voiced her thoughts. “Wasn’t that medium funny? The things she so-called predicted about you were so wild.” Mags laughed, brandishing her speech with air quotes.

“Heh, yeah,” Harry said, uncharacteristically without elaboration. There was a small pause, and then, “Actually, she wasn’t all wrong.” “How’s that?” Mags inquired, wondering how much longer their walk would take. She was so ready to deal with the ghost. Especially now since she knew it was Tom and he probably didn’t mean them any harm.

“I actually, uh, well you know how she said I suffered a great loss?” Harry reached over to rub the back of his neck before continuing, “Well. She wasn’t wrong about that. My uh, my dad passed away. Not too long ago really.” “Harry,” Mags said, concern and sympathy and sadness all intertwined in her voice, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“We don’t,” Harry agreed, but then he looked at her. And if Mags had to guess, the look in his eyes showed that he felt comfortable with her. Safe. “But I want to. My dad was an okay guy, not the best husband but a good father. He passed quickly – cancer, but not painlessly. It was tough for my sister and mom. Tough for me too.” He cleared his throat, sneaking a peek at Mags before looking down at his feet. “I just, I wanted you to know that about me. I like sharing things with you. You’re easy to talk to.”

Usually, Mags was quick to stick her foot in her mouth. Her special talent of saying the wrong thing reared its ugly head when it was most unwanted and in the most awkward situations. But surprisingly, that didn’t happen this time. Mags took one look at how exposed and open Harry was, how he shared his sorrow and confided in her, and she knew exactly what she wanted to say. “He must’ve been a great father,” Mags noted, “To have helped raise someone as wonderful like you.”

They shared a smile. A small one that meant that whatever this was, whatever was happening between them, it was going to be big. The shared smile revealed that there were wonders and adventures yet to come between them. But it would all have to wait until after tonight, when they would finally leave Harry with a ghost-free home.

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

When Harry unlocked the door to his house, they didn’t waste time in removing their shoes or coats and got straight to work. Harry began to burn the sage and Mags set the candle around the room, lighting the wicks and igniting flames. They worked in silence, the magnitude of what’s to come weighing heavily on their shoulders. When finished with their respective duties, they met back at the center.

Harry’s grip on the bottle of holy water tightened. “You don’t have to do this, y’know? I won’t hold it against you.” He was offering her an out, not wanting to put her in any unnecessary danger.

Mags rolled her eyes, before reaching over to grasp his free hand. “I’m not that easy to get rid of. I’m not going anywhere.”

Just then, the awful thudding and heavy footsteps could be heard from above. It was loud, the steps so heavy that it caused bits of wood shavings to fall from the ceiling. It was now or never.

“Hello?” Mags called out, her voice trembling at the unknown. “Is that you Tom? I mean Mr – “ “Bleakman,” Harry helpfully supplied.

Mags gulped, “Mr. Bleakman. If that’s you, can you give us a sign?”

Was it her imagination, or had the room suddenly gotten colder? The inside of the house seemed to be even more freezing that the harsh winds outside. It was chilling. Goosebumps began to dot her arms and an uneasy feeling settling around her.  She held her coat closer to her exposed neck, her grip tightening in Harry’s intertwined hand.

“Mr. Bleakman?” Now it was Harry giving it a go. “If you can hear me, I just want you to know. I’m Harry. Your wife, Bertha, rented this house to me. She’s a real sweet woman.” “They play Bingo together,” Mags offered.

“We did. We played a lot of Bingo together and – “ “Which isn’t a euphemism by the way!” Mags exclaimed, before mouthing an apology to Harry when he shot her an exasperated look.

“Right. Well, Mr. Bleakman. Tom. I was hoping that you could stop haunting this house. The thing with the Ouija board the other day? It wasn’t very cool of me and I won’t do it again.” The thudding didn’t stop. The cold air didn’t seem to warm. In fact, things began to worsen. Mags and Harry looked around just as the lights began to flicker, casting an ominous lighting around the room. Just as suddenly, the lights went out all together and everything was dead silent. In the dim lighting, with the candles their only source of light, Mags eyes struggled to adjust. A chill ran down her spine, causing her to tremble. She clumsily reached out for Harry, having let go of his hand earlier, and then let out an audible sigh of relief when his hand found hers instead, squeezing it once as reassurance.

The thumping sound stopped. The only sound that could be heard was their shallow breathing that seemed deafening in an otherwise silent room. They waited, breath baited, for something to happen. It couldn’t be that easy Mags thought. There’s no way.

And though she didn’t want to be, she was right. No sooner has she mentally expressed that sentiment that there was a loud smashing sound that came from the right of her, followed by a loud bang of something crashing to the ground. She screamed, backing up into Harry, who immediately pulled her behind him, trying to shield her from whatever danger that lurked. Before they could even question what caused that smashing sound, a sudden gust of cold air could be felt, causing Mags to shudder and simultaneously, and all the flames in the candles went out. They were trapped in pitch darkness.

The front door slammed open, and the pair whirled around to look at the entrance. A hooded figure could be seen, face hidden, a blunt object in his hand.

This time, both Mags and Harry screamed bloody murder.

The figure screamed back.

A voice thick with an Irish accent resounded in the room. “Why’re ya screaming?! It’s just me!”

“Niall?” Mags questioned desperately, while Harry shouted, “What’s wrong with you? You don’t just bust into someone’s home like that!” The latter’s voice sounding suspiciously scared in a falsetto.

As if this was a playwright and not reality, the lights flickered back on, almost on cue. The lights revealed that it was indeed Niall, as he pulled down the hood from his jacket and stepped into the room. The large object in his hand was just a scroll of paper, rolled up into a tight cylindrical shape.

Mags took long strides to cross the room and stand before Niall before not so lightly pounding him on the arm repeatedly. “What is the matter with you?” “Ouch!” The Irishman exclaimed, wincing and rubbing him tender arm. “I’m here because I’ve found the answer to Harry’s problem.” He was met with unimpressed stares. “Yikes, tough crowd. Look, why don’t you guys take a seat?”

Mags and Harry shared a look, and then walked over to the couch, sitting close to each other, practically on the same cushion, not wanting to be apart after what they’d just witnessed. Once settled, all eyes were on Niall, who physically claimed the center of the room.

“I have found the solution to this haunting,” Niall began. Mags noticed that he was using the same rambunctious, haughty voice he employed when he had to present a subject in class over something that he hadn’t done the reading on, but she ignored calling him out as he actually had piqued her interest. Could he truly have the answer to stop all this madness?

Harry hunched over and ran his palms across his face, and Mags instinctively reached out to rub his shoulders comfortingly. “Oooh! When’d this happen?” Niall asked excitedly, pointing at them.

Mags eyes just flashed in irritation.

“Right!” Niall exclaimed, as if he suddenly remembered he was in the middle of something important. “The solution.”

He began to pace the length of the living room rug, his hands tied behind his back, the rain droplets from his jacket dripping onto the floor. “I’ve been thinking long and hard about everything that Harry had said about this house. All the things that spooked him. I didn’t know what to make of it, so I did some digging of my own.”

He bent over and unfolded the roll of paper, and Mags and Harry reached out to hold opposite edges to keep it straightened.

“Erm, what exactly are we looking at here?” Harry questioned, his head cocked to the side trying to make sense of the white lines and measurements adorning the navy-blue page.

“I went to the town hall and asked for a copy of this house’s floorplan. You mentioned it was old, Harry, something in Bertha’s family for a while so I figured they would have it. If you look closely, right about here,” he pointed to a section on the paper of what Mags deduced was the living room that they were currently in, “that’s the room we are in right now. And if you follow the measurements of the floorboards, you’ll see that they don’t quite align.”

From Harry’s squinted eyes, it was clear he hadn’t caught on yet. But Mags had. The paper showed the square footage, measurements, and scales; Numbers! She was back in familiar territory! She excitedly traced the area that Niall pointed out. “Oh my gosh,” she whispered, “This bitch is built crooked.”

“What?” Harry exclaimed, exasperated at being out of the loop. “What is this even showing me?” Niall seemed gleeful at Mag’s realization, validating his findings. “The house, while structurally sound, was built crooked. The plot of land it’s on is uneven. The left dipping lower than the right. Which is why sometimes,” Niall threw his arm out to point at the right wall, splattering Mags and Harry’s faces with more water droplets that flew off his sleeve, “the painting from that wall falls off periodically.” They all looked to where he pointed. The sound Mags and Harry had heard moments ago, the loud banging in the darkness, had been a picture frame that fell off the wall. That’s all it was. Mags felt just the tiniest bit of air fill back into her lungs in relief.

“B-but,” Harry nodded his head side to side in apparent puzzlement, “But how does that explain the lights? We – “He nodded his head at Mags, “We found out that Tom, Bertha’s husband, had died while messing with the breaker in the basement. The flickering lights has to be his ghost.” Niall only patted Harry’s head in response. “Oh, you silly lad! If only that were true. In actuality, Bertha forgot to tell you that in the winter months, the house needs a scheduled appointment with the town’s electrician. The house is old, the wiring is faulty, and it needs a nice tweak now and then in the cold weather.”

Niall stood up once again with a flourish, one finger raised and poised in the air, “And how would I know that? Fret not Harry,” to which Harry deeply exhaled in frustration. “I looked up Bertha, found her granddaughter on Instagram. She’s a fittie by the way, has a boyfriend though. Real shame.” A swift kick to his shins from Mags got him to stop his harmless flirting and get back on track. “Right, so I reached out to her. She relayed that information to me. She also pointed out something else that she thought we’d ought to know.”

He treads to the other side of the room, to the wall that has four large windowpanes covered by thick, velvet drapes. Grabbing the curtain from one corner, he peels it back, loudly exclaiming “Ta-daa!”, his hands outstretched as if he was presenting something fascinating to them, a magician in front of an audience.

Eyes blinked back at him. “There’s nothing even there!” Harry exasperatedly noted.

“What?” Niall did a double take, and then chuckled to himself. “Oops, wrong window.” He repeated his same dramatic motions, this time uncovering a window with a large, crack on it. On the corner, was a missing shard of glass. “Bertha had been meaning to get this fixed. The neighbor’s kid accidentally threw a baseball through the window. She got really forgetful towards the end, according to her granddaughter, which is why she whisked her away.”

Mags nodded excitedly, “That’s what’s been causing the drafts.” She turned to Harry, eyes glowing with relief, “That’s why it always so damn cold in here. Your thermostat can’t compete with that.”

“Hopefully the flickering lights will offset how high your electivity bill is going to be,” Niall joked.

Harry seemed unconvinced. “What about that smell then, huh? It smells something dreadful in the kitchen and I’ve cleaned the place spic and span.”

Mags turned to Niall in wonder, looking at him in a whole new light, as if he was an all knowing being that held all the answers.

“Follow me,” Niall said, leading the trio into the kitchen while continuing his monologue. “I called up our dear friend Louis. Hard guy to keep track of, that lad, with the time zones and all. I told him about the smell, and wouldn’t you know it? Our friend remembered the fact that when he was here, he had drunkenly tried to make himself scrambled eggs for breakfast when you,” he pointed accusingly at Harry, “were passed out on the couch. What he actually did was drop an egg on the ground. In his drunken state, he simply just kicked the egg yolk under the fridge, like ice, and promised to clean it later.”

Niall leaned against the fridge, arms crossed dramatically. “As we know, no follow-through that one. He forgot to clean his mess. So that smell you smelt? The scent of rotten eggs? It actually was a rotten egg. Disgusting but true.”

“I –” Harry couldn’t believe it. Gently pushing Niall away from the fridge, he knelt down on one knee, sinking onto the cool tile. Sliding his phone out of his front pocket, he turned on his flashlight app and shined in under the fridge. Niall and Mags also leaned in to get a closer look. Audible gasps could be heard from all three of them. There, under the dusty and sticky tile bottom of the fridge, wedged between a dust ball and an expired coupon, was a broken, rotten egg.

Mags pinched her nose, unable to take the scent anymore. “Niall, you’re an absolute genius,” she complimented nasally.

Before Niall could bask in his glory for long, Harry interrupted once again. “You’ve explained the lights. The painting falling off. The cold. The smell. But,” his eyes bleary and red, his arms flailing in frustration “what about the sounds coming from the ceiling? The footsteps?”

He turned around and looked at Mags frantically for support. “Mags heard it too! The night that she stayed over and we – um, she just heard it too!” while Mags nodded feverishly in the background.

Niall looked away, breaking eye contact. “That’s the only part I can’t explain,” the blonde confessed, scratching his scalp. “But the blueprints show this house has an attic. Let’s all go search up there together.”

Emboldened by Niall’s other explanations, everyone geared up for their excursion, which really meant that everyone had their phones in hand, flashlights shining. Once again, Niall lead the way, stopping in the middle of the hallway. It was no wonder Harry had never noticed it before. There, on the ceiling, was a subtle outline of an attic door and a very small chain dangling. It was so high up that Niall and Harry took turns hopping and trying to reach the latch, while Mags didn’t even try, watching the boys struggle because she know her attempts would be futile. Eventually Harry was able to grab ahold of the chain and pull the attic door open, as the wooden steps fell along with it. Harry looked back at Mags, feeling a surge of affection for this girl that was willing to risk everything for him, and then looked at Niall, the friend who jumped through hoops to help a friend. Inspired by the love and support around him, Harry took the lead, climbing up the steps as Niall and Mags respectively followed.

“Please don’t be a creepy man that’s been hoarding and hiding in Harry’s attic for shelter,” Mags whispered, climbing the last steps “Because I WILL die of shock, and that’s a promise.”

Niall and Harry helped her up, and she stood upright. They each flashed their lights at different corners of the attic, trying to find something amiss among the dusty boxes of forgotten belongings and storage.

“Wait,” Harry whispered, pointing in the opposite corner. “Look over there. Something’s glowing.”

And sure enough, Mags saw it too. Something was glowing and moving. Two little round balls of light.

“I think,” Harry began, taking a step closer to the source when all Mags wanted to do was drag him back to safety, “Oh wow, it is.” “Is what?” Niall exclaimed, unable to handle the suspense.

“It’s a family of possums!” Harry cried in relief, “It’s just a mama possum and her babies. It’s not a ghost!”

“Awww,” Niall cooed.

The release that everyone felt was almost palpable, the relief tangible. There was no ghost after all! No otherworldly being! All of this was caused by a forgetful old woman, a drunk friend, and a family of critters.

Mags could almost cry tears of joy. Science was valid. Her whole wasn’t flipped upside down. Numbers were important, her beliefs restored. Rationale could explain everything unusual that had occurred within the confines of this house. Without being too dramatic, she could firmly declare that once again, her life had meaning.

She took a few minutes to herself to truly appreciate that there was no haunting before finally speaking up. “I hate to ruin the moment,” Mags said as Harry and Niall admired the critters, “but mama possums are very territorial and will attack if she feels threatened.” When neither Harry nor Niall made any intentions to move, she added, “And possums are at high risk to carry strains of rabies.”

“And that’s our cue!” Harry quipped, as Niall vehemently added, “Yup!”

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

Day 7: October 31st, Halloween!!!

Mags beamed with content, relaxing every muscle in her body as she laid on the bookshop’s couch, her head resting on Harry’s warm thigh, his face partially obscured by a book, reading snippets from the murder-mystery novel she had started but never got to finish given how hectic the past few days had been. His other free hand was draped across her shoulder and chest, and Mags divided her attention, taking turns to hold his hand and running her fingers across his forearm, despite Harry’s constant claim that it tickled.

It was Halloween, the day that she had first anticipated because she loved all things horror and it was her favorite holiday, and then the day that she had started to dread when she believed that Harry’s house was being haunted by a ghost. Now, she was back to loving her favorite holiday again, the world was ruled by science, and everything felt right. And it truly did. Ever since last night, when Niall was able to demystify all of the strange occurrences, Mags felt lighter than she had ever before. She let out an exhale as she relaxed into her position, nuzzling closer to Harry as his low voice rumbled, reading aloud to her, and embraced the pleasant sound.

She was so comfortable, so relaxed, she felt could fall asleep right here and now. A little nap was well-deserved at this point, she decided as she closed her eyes contently, considering the hell she’d been through this past week.

“Do not fall asleep,” a voice demanded.

She inhaled deeply in frustration, peeling one eye open to see Liam passing by. He eyed her, irritated, though Mags knew he wasn’t truly annoyed. “You’re still on the clock, y’know?” Liam said, “Just checking in to make sure you’re all set to close up.” He paused to nod at Harry in greeting, because apparently it was really a small world and Mags had found out that Liam and Harry actually knew each from freshman year history class.

Mags sat up, running her fingers through her hair in a futile attempt to tame it. “I don’t understand why you always ask me that when you never offer to actually help close up.”

Liam laughed in response. “I’m nothing if not consistent.” He reached over to give Harry one of those boy handshakes that would always elude Mags. Why couldn’t boys just say goodbye normally? “Anyways, I’ll see you at Harry’s place tonight. I’ve got a wicked costume planned,” he concluded as a farewell.

It wasn’t hard for Niall to convince Harry that he should host a Halloween party at his house, to celebrate the fact that he wasn’t haunted, but also because it was a great excuse to bring everyone together and get drunk. Mags, always eager to wear costumes, agreed with his sentiments and thus, they were hosting a last-minute Halloween party with no invitations spared.

Mags twisted her body to face Harry, his eyes already on her. “I probably should get up and start to close up.” She straightens herself up, ready to check inventory and cash out the register. “Before another student comes rushing in last minute again. Or God forbid, an English major,” she jokes.

“Um,” Harry treaded cautiously, “You know I’m an English major, right?” “You’re a what?” Mags eyes widen in shock. “Nope. No way.” She shakes her head vigorously. “Absolutely not.”

Harry smirks in amusement. “Unfortunately, yes. Sorry to break it to you, hon.”

Mags froze, flabbergasted. She guessed she really did have a type. Karma really was a bitch. “I’m so glad you decided to reveal your major after the fact,” she joked, “Or else it might’ve been a deal breaker.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed, changing the subject, “Don’t forget! I’ll need to rush home and put on my costume before meeting you at the house.” “Ooh,” Harry resounded in excitement, “Can you pretty please bring Pumpkin with you? I haven’t seen her all day.” She rolled her eyes in response. “I’m beginning to think you’re only dating me for my cat,” she joked amicably.

And that is what they were doing. Dating. As soon as all the ghost nonsense was put to rest, she and Harry finally had the opportunity to address everything that happened between them. Though their coming together was unconventional, the feelings were real and strong, and they decided to give their relationship a try. Mags felt good about it. They way Harry made her feel made her think they were in it for the long haul and she was excited about their future holds.

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

Adjusting her halo that fell askew when she threw her head back to take a shot, Mags looked around the kitchen in happiness, the kind that fills your heart when you’re in a party, surrounded by close friends and loved ones, loud music thumping from a distance and filled with good vibes. Alcohol definitely plays a part too.

Suddenly, two tattooed arms reached out to envelop her, careful to avoid smushing her wings. She leaned her weight against Harry’s chest, allowing him to support her, as she turned her face slightly towards him. He lowered his head to her ears, his breath tickling her skin and making her blood rush. “You look so good,” Harry murmured, “I’ve got half a mind to call the cops on my own party so they can kick everyone out. Want you all to myself.”

Despite rolling her eyes, Mags couldn’t help the pleased smile that snaked across her face. “Easy there, I’m spending the night anyway.” She turned around so that her wings were no longer a barrier between them, wrapping her arms around Harry from the front, her face against his chest, as he placed his head affectionally atop hers, the wisps on her Halo tickling his cheeks.

Mags had chosen an angel as her last-minute Halloween costume, mainly because it was an easy outfit, but also because the white contrasted well with her golden-brown skin and this particular outfit did wonders for her boobs. A fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Harry, if the look he gave her when she first made her entrance was any indication. On the other hand, Harry had chosen to dress as a devil. Or at least, a very lackluster devil. He had a red sweater on earlier, but the warmth from the house crowded with bodies caused him to abandon that hours ago, and he was left with a white t-shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of devil horns hastily placed atop his mass of curly hair. It was mysterious the way the world worked. Just a week ago, she imagined that on Halloween she would be at home, watching the Scream movie series with Niall, Marisol, and Pumpkin, with a bag of Halloween candy to pass out to trick or treaters. And now, she was celebrating her favorite holiday with her friends and her boyfriend with a fun party.

As the Monster Mash played deafeningly in the background, and they were jostled from people entering and exiting the kitchen to get punch, they swayed to their own silent music, content to be lost in their world for just a moment.

A moment that was interrupted by Niall. “Seriously Harry? You were supposed to grab Mags so we could play charades!” To which Harry muttered an insincere apology. Niall turned to Mags, “It’s a Halloween version of charades. I know how competitive you get. You and Harry can be on the same team. It’ll be a true test of your love!” He declared, his speech slow and slurred.

Mags was game. “Oh, we are so gonna win!” She declared, already leaning into her competitive streak.

“Great!” Niall declared enthusiastically, his arms sloppily flailing in excitement. Unfortunately for him, and for Harry, Niall had forgotten about the cup he was holding and just emptied its entire content onto Harry. His white shirt was completely stained with red punch.

Niall avoided Harry’s harsh glare as Mags slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. “Oops! I’ll just let ya take care of that before our game,” he announced, adjusting his fake leprechaun beard before hurriedly making his exit.

“Great,” Harry groaned, dabbing his shirt with a paper towel in vain, “I have to go change my shirt.” Unexpectedly, Mags was hit with a sudden realization. “Oh my gosh!” She exclaimed in a tone of wonder. “You’re completely covered in red liquid.”

It took Harry a moment, but then his eyes flashed with recognition. “That crazy old psychic was right!”

Mags laughed at the absurdity of it all. “I wonder,” she began, rubbing her chin thoughtfully, “If she was right about two things so far, I’m starting to suspect that she was right to warn me. I’ll bet you are a widower! How do I know I’m not dating a married man?” She teased.

Harry just looked at her fondly in response, at the crazy girl that he called his girlfriend.

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

Buzz! The electronic buzzer resounded, indicating that Mags and Harry’s turn was over. She threw her arm up in frustration. “Seriously Harry? The word was Leatherface! It’s the killer in Texas Chainsaw Massacre!” “How was I supposed to get that?” He howled with laughter.

“I was pointing at Zayn’s leather jacket!” She explained, pointing at the boy dressed as a Greaser, “And I was miming a chainsaw!”

“A chainsaw?” Harry questioned, as Niall guffawed, “I thought you were chopping vegetables!”

Mags sat back next to Harry, arms crossed, and lips pouted in pretending to sulk. “It’s okay baby,” he comforted her, “We’ll get them next round.”

“You promise?” She teased.

His pinky reached out to capture hers. “Pinky promise.”

Mags had chosen a seat next to Marisol and Niall, her main competition in this game. She had squeezed Liam’s shoulder as she passed to get to her seat and shot Zayn a smile in greeting, noticing other familiar faces in the room. It seems that the people that she was the closest with had chosen to join the game.

Niall observed Mags and Harry tangled within one another, as she sat close to Harry, her back to his chest, his arm slung around her shoulders as they waited for their next turn. “You guys are so cute. We should go on a double-date!” He exclaimed, the alcohol causing his enthusiasm to increase ten-fold, “Marisol,” he called, turning to his girlfriend, “Let’s all get brunch tomorrow morning!” Marisol shared a knowing look with Mags, to say Gosh my boyfriend is so cute but such an adorable handful when he’s drunk. “Sweetie,” she began understandingly, as if she was speaking to a toddler, “Y’know I have church in the morning. The church on 3rd street holds their sermons really early on Sunday mornings.”

“Oh, the one with Pastor Mike?” Mags questioned, “He’s super nice!” Marisol looked over at her roommate in concern. “Why do you know that?” She questioned in exasperated confusion, the synthetic hair from her blue Coraline wig slipping over her eyes as she narrowed them at Harry suspiciously, who was busy playing with the ends of Mags hair, the long strands skirting against the small of her back. Marisol lowering her voice in a drunken whisper that wasn’t actually that quiet, “Is he trying to convert you?”

Harry looked offended at the accusation and Mags bubbled over in laughter, unable to explain to Marisol. She didn’t even know what’d she say. Yes, I know Pastor Mike is really kind because he helped Harry and I with an exorcism.

As Marisol and Niall got distracted because it was their turn, Mags turned to admire the mantle above the fireplace. When rooting through the basement for Halloween decorations, she and Harry had found a beautiful picture of Bertha and Tom. They felt it was appropriate to have it up, as a reminder of the love that once filled this house, instead of the horror they previously feared. “I guess I’ll have to go out and buy another frame,” Harry commented, following Mags eyes to see what got her attention. “Why’s that?” Mags asked curiously.

“For a picture of us, of course!” Mags shoved his arm playfully. “Harry, we’ve literally been officially dating for one day, why are you like this?” In turn, he dropped all pretenses of joking, carefully looking into her eyes. “When you know, you know,” he explained, his words firm and laced with adoration. He reached out to tuck a strand of her dark hair behind her ears, his actions tender and careful, his gaze unwavering. This time, Mags didn’t have to guess what expression was on his face, wasn’t confused about the look in his eye. As he ducked forward, dipping down to touch his nose against hers, she recognizes the emotion that all the signs point to: love.

Just as Harry’s lips are about to make contact with hers, Liam speaks up boisterously, gathering the attention of everyone in the room. “After this,” he boldly proclaims, his once carefully applied zombie makeup now smudged and his speech imprecise due to the effects of the punch, “we should all get into the true Halloween spirit by playing the ultimate spooky game.”

His proclamation is meet with cheerful jeers of encouragement and questions about what the game was.

“Great!” He all but shouts in enthusiasm, “I’ll just go and find us a Ouijia board.”

Time stood still. Everything seemed to move in slow-motion.

Completely in sync, their motions fluid and graceful, contradicting the amount of alcohol consumed between the three of them, Niall, Harry, and Mags jumped up from the couch in harmony, bellowing a resounding chorus of “NO!”

The End. (or isss iiiiiit?)

(Just kidding, it is.)