#she has one braincell to her name but by god does it work so hard

[sympathytea]

[ID in alt sorry forgot to put that there] Idk this side character's name in the latest episode but I need to see more of her immediately

Like her being characterized as being a little confused. Then she just fucking whales on Evbo once he explains the mechanics to her. What a menace. Love that for her.

Also he teaches her how to crit the PARALLELS Like I'm already imagining the shit shes getting up to. She has no lines. She simply swings and stares directly at things with zero thought behind those green eyes. Update: She is drawn. Look at her. And her brainless eyes.

[the-official-account]

episode.......25

and so it begins...or ends!

anything can kill a vampire it just has to happen a lot alsdfjal;sdjfasdlfkjas

"what do we have in the way of the tommy gun...ACAB but i'll take it" asdjlfa;sdlfjasf

one of my favorite parts of ttrpgs is the whole "buckle down to fight a boss" bits they're so satafying, the anticipation if palpable

okay the trip threat has been adjusted but in my mine vellum is still for sure looking 👀👀👀😳😳😳

spar is like "Bestie I have one emotionally intelligent braincell on loan from anya...but i'll do my best!!!" (I'm exaggerating, he's pretty savvy but asd;lfas;dlf)

I love how bridge worship's providence and their whole deal is STILL "dont fucking mess with those cards"

"When i don't know what to do I try to think about what makes the people I care about safest" Where's that *gently holds* image when you need it because AAAAWWWWHHHHHHH.

" we could try locking them up?" Spar no asldfja;wdsjf

The dreamy sigh i let out when spar said the whole "I trust you with my life" thing. That's the gayest shit he's said yet, I think.

Okay but all im saying is consider Xbala/Anya/Tatiana. Just consider. Really think on this. the ultimate chaos trio

"It's Xbala"

"Does she have anya with her?"

"yes"

it was establish that anya was standing behind her but my initial mental image was FOR SURE Xbala carrying's anya under one arm dfghsadflhgsfgsld

I feel like spar is trying to hard to exude "man of the house" energy all the time and normally that would work except 80% of people in the podcast see him as a younger brother-ish-situation. But he did good with anya!!!!

I think they should give anya a knife and set her lose though, that's just my opinion

SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA, SEE A LAWYER AND PICK EM IPAS DFA;LDSJFAS BY STUPID DOODLE IS CANNON NOW I HAVE DECIDED.

:O SPAR DON'T BE MEAN TO XBALA!!

"look i had real qualms about manhandling a lawyers" asdfjha;sdjfa;skdfj

"AND ANYAS LIKE i would bite you" QUEEEEEEN SHIT OH MY GOD

OF COURSE FUCKING DIAMOND IS TRYING TO DITCH OUT ON THE FUCKING DEAL. UGH!!! (DEROGATORY!) TOMATO TOMATO TOMATO!

Diamond better not be saying they're going to that meeting.

ipswitch noooo. Ipswitch i like you so much but don't fall for thissss noooo. something sus is like fore SURE going down adn i dunno what it is but i DO NOT trust it

COMMUTES VIA PARKOUR WHILE BLINDFOLDED HE'S SUCHHHH AS FUNNY LITTLE GUY!!!!!! OH MY BGOD

oh my god vellum but as a baby.....wait who is iris? I may not know an iris yet but I am VERY interested in vellum's work friends (in inventing names of one(1) random character for a fic I chose, or all names, naomi...........)

SPAR MAKING MATCHING SHIT FOR HIM AND SOREL IS SO PRECIOUS HOLY FUCK.

what ARE the xbala anya vibes. OMG IM NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO CONSIDERED THAT SHIP. Ooooh Xbanya is a really good name. Xatianya also??? At some point if you cram enough names together they make one (1) sci-fi russian princess.

Yeha maybe Lunavella's just a GILF. THE CAT/BIRD ENERGY there are layers...there are LAYERS to this yeah as;kldfja;lsjdf

as a listener I had not considered this I would assume the poleaxe was just like. a socially acceptable and sexy addition to an outfit

LALSDFJLSDFHGALKJSFD i was waiting for spar's reaction to the triple threat

I feel like if you're headed to the truth booth in your relatioship it oughta be ending anyway

MERIM I'VE BEEN ABANDONED BY MY DATE NOOOOOO Jakub ditching lunavella for QC is understandable and probably the best strategic but still a bit lame

Luna is sticking with vellum and bc you just KNOW she's a god at that etch-a-sketch. The kiddies in the olde elven kinda garden couldn't HOPE to keep up.

DIAMOND CAN YOU RESPECT EPIPLE'S AUTONOMY FOR FIVE MINUTES?

OOOOH THAT TELEPORTATION IDEA IS RAD

OOOOH THE HOUSING BEING FAKE IS SO GOOD

Do all the pendant work? Did they find a way to manufacturer more? If they can surgery everyone wearing a pendant like giving them diamond's mind control is a massive L but being able to identify that many members is super useful? Also fuck diamond.

"diamond is frozen in time" haha. Bitch.

EEEEEE voracity outing Merim like that aiiiiiint great. VORACITY YOU LEAVE SPAR THE FUCK ALONE. FUCK.

I really hope they get their backup in soon. Ahhh!!!!!

I'm glad to be caught up. My blood pressure will be slightly higher for the next 2 weeks

@threeheartscast

[luxshine]

As I try hard not to let the RRR rot invade my brain, let's go back to Stranger Things for a bit so that rot also invades my brain (yes, there are new ideas for fic there too. My muses hate me)

El should watch Invasion of the Body snatchers. Then she'd knew what is wrong. And I see that Max is a DC fan, and she loves the right character, because Wonder Woman is AMAZING!!!

I see that Nancy and Jonathan did the right thing and called 911. Not that 911 can do anything for Miss Driscoll as I am sure she's going to explode like her rats.

Oh, and I see that the Mind Flayer now looks like a mixture of the Thing and the Blob and the previously mentioned Body Snatchers. Cool. Now if the guys could get together to actually fight it, I want to see Steve cleave the thing (or Billy) with his bat.

His bat needs a name, by the way. Just like Lucille.

Damn. The contusion brought back idiot Hooper. Damn it.

I love Max and Max's room.

Steve has such a confidence in himself. I love him. And Dustin is right there to put him right back in where he should be. Robin is amazing too.

I still want Nancy to go postal at her job. Really, it would be the right way to quit.

GOOD! The kids can stop thinking with his hormones enough to care about the end of the world. Love them.

CARY ELWES AGAIN!!! It's always great to see him, even if he is being a horrible bastard, worst than Prince Humperdink. He does slimy majors very well. And Hooper looks amazing in the Miami Vice attire, even if he doesn't know it. Sheriff vs. Major mud fight! I love it.

OOh... I can see Hooper knows how to go Postal. He should give Nancy some lessons. Gotta wonder if he is fired. Because if he is? Oh, boy, that's some way to quit.

Jonathan and Nancy are a terrible, terrible couple. And Jonathan is just giving her the truth. Yes, the men were horrible and mysoginistic and yes, Jonathan knows more about poverty than that, but yeah, they were INTERNS. And if they break up? Good. Just stay away from Steve.

Meanwhile, the super spy group manages to find the way into the secret russian base without getting fired. Even if they can't fit Dustin there.

Lucas knows that his brother in law doesn't wear shirts. Poor him.

Will is in hell. But hey, Mike had a GOOD idea. That's good.

Lucas's sister is an annoying little brat. VERY Annoying little brat. But she's a good addition to the special anti-Russian Squad. Even if she is a brat. But she's a good negotiator for a brat!

Ah, Cary Elwes. I love him so much. Even if he's so evil. And once again, Joyce is the brains of the Adult Squad. In every squad, the brains is the girls. Teenage Squad used to have no brains, but now we have Robin so she has the brains and the guts.

Nancy has guts, yeah, but she's so lacking in the braincell department that I worry about all the Wheelers.

Holy shit! Mrs. Wheeler had a great moment of motherhood and adult advice. I would be checking for pods in the Wheelers' basement if it wasn't because I know the Mind Flayer is not into parenting advice.

Seeing the kids work again together. I am sorry that Will can't get his apology now, because he is right, he has more important things to worry about, but I am glad that El didn't go all angry at Hooper.

Erica is a brat. But I love her. Even if she's going to forget her unicorn bag and give away the squad. That is telegraphed for anyone who ever has seen a heist movie.

Poor Max. She loves Billy, god knows why, and this is hard for her.

Ok.Nancy has guts. No braincells, but guts. If she was in the DnD party, she could be our barbarian.

Steve and Dustin are brothers. I love it.

I swear, if Steve happens to have brought his bat that I Will name one day, I will love him even more.

I am trying hard not to feel bad for Billy. But the actor is making it hard. Damn it Stranger Things, for giving bullies redemption arcs. I don't want to feel bad for him. But he's making it hard.

El has gotten a lot more powerful. Someone get that girl to read X-men.

See kids, this is why you don't enable a red code plan without Steve and his trusty bat. Mike tried his best, but he is NO Steve and his trusty bat.

No, seriously, El needs to learn about Jean Grey.

Did they kill Billy? Oh, no. He's still up. So we need something harder than a brick wall.

Oh. We're going to need a bigger sauna to get all those people better.

Ok, Stranger things 3, you got my attention.

[fruitcoops]

hey! i love your work so much and i had an idea. what about the whole team going to pride? or maybe just the cubs or coops, but i would love to see the whole team supporting and maybe breaking out flags of their own. :)))

Happy Pride, everyone!!! It has been such a wild year, but I hope you all find comfort and joy during this month <3 I'm sending you all love and hugs (or high-fives, if you prefer), as well as positive vibes for the summer. SW credit belongs to @lumosinlove as always!

Credit to @queercanoe for the the rainbow bracelet idea <3

“This is…this is really nice,” Sirius said as they stood in line for popsicles. His face glowed with happiness and Remus squeezed his hand where it laid over his shoulder.

“Better than last year?”

He hummed in thought. “I like being here without the Cup and all the cameras. It’s just us.”

“And half the team,” Remus added.

“True,” Sirius laughed, bending down to kiss his forehead. Some of the glitter Lily had managed to sprinkle over his head and smear on his cheeks fell onto Remus’ shirt, and he brushed it off with a laugh. “Love you.”

“Love you, too. The kids are still arguing.”

Sirius glanced behind them and snorted; on the other end of the block, Leo hitched Logan higher on his back as he held Finn’s baseball cap out of reach. Talker and James had started an impromptu game of volleyball with a stray balloon, and the sight of Regulus playing peekaboo with Harry using his pride flag cape sent a burst of happy butterflies through Remus’ stomach.

“D’you think they’ve even noticed we’re gone?”

“Doubt it.”

They tapped their popsicles together in a toast and meandered back to the group—the afternoon heat toned down some of the manic energy of the morning parade, and Remus was content to just wander hand-in-hand with his fiancé for a while.

Not your fiancé for long, he reminded himself as the ice cooled his mouth. Just five more days, and then you’ll have a ring, too.

He stood on his toes, still a little sore from dancing earlier in the day, and kissed Sirius’ cheek. “What was that for?”

“Nothing. Just ‘cause I love you.”

Sirius let out a slow breath and squeezed him a little tighter around the shoulders, catching a drip of syrupy red before it slid down to his elbow. “This is the perfect day.”

“It is, isn’t it? Ooo, blue raspberry.”

“Can I have a taste?”

“Of c—” Remus was cut off by warm lips against his own, shorting out every braincell in one fell swoop. You sly little shit, he thought, smiling into the kiss as Sirius dipped him back.

They straightened up after a moment and Sirius raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s pretty good.”

“Your lips are purple.”

He licked his own half-melted popsicle before dragging Remus in for one more kiss, though both of them were almost laughing too hard for his plan to work. “There. Now we match.”

“Thanks, babes.”

“Hey!” Finn cupped his hands around his mouth, clearly giving up on retrieving his hat. “Are you done yet? I was promised popsicles!”

Remus flipped him off and pulled Sirius down by the collar of his shirt, suddenly uncaring of the stickiness making its chilly way down his forearm. It was their day to do that, after all; their day to be flamboyantly affectionate to anyone in sight, regardless of contracts and media and expectations. It was a day drenched in popsicle sugar where he could turn his soon-to-be-husband’s lips more purple than the dahlias he loved so much.

“You could’ve just said ‘no’,” Finn remarked as they rejoined the group, both a little flushed.

“As if you’ve kept your hands to yourself,” Remus teased, gesturing to the various smudges in Finn’s face paint.

He hesitated, then shrugged. “Good point.”

“I have them on occasion.” A burst of giggling caught both their attention and softness bloomed in Remus’ chest as Sirius tossed Harry a few inches into the air, making rocket ship noises. Next to him, Leo had set Logan down so he could lift Katie up and tickle her until she shrieked with joy.

“God, they’re cute,” Finn said around a mouthful of syrup-soaked ice. The look in his eyes was unmistakably fond, and Remus knew it was reflected on his own face.

“They are. The boyfriends aren’t bad, either.”

Finn snorted, then spluttered as he nearly spat out his popsicle, sending Remus into peals of laughter. “Stop it!” he complained, though the didn’t sound very upset at all. “I’m gonna get a brain freeze!”

“A brain freeze?” Sirius turned to Harry with exaggerated shock.

“Oh, no!” Harry gasped. Behind them, James stifled his smile in the side of Lily’s neck.

“It’s not lookin’ good, buddy,” Finn said with false gravity. “Popsicles are a dangerous food.”

Harry made grabby hands until Finn settled him on his hip, then took his face between two chubby hands and looked deep into his eyes. “Your lips are blue,” he proclaimed after a long moment.

“Are they?”

“Uh-huh. Tremzy’s got red lips, an’ Knutty’s got red lips, and Mama has pink lips, and Uncle Pads has purple lips.” Harry poked the side of his mouth. “You’ve gotta have purple lips, too.”

Finn raised his eyebrows at Remus over Harry’s shoulder. “Not a chance, Harzy.”

“We’re better kissers anyway,” Leo said with a grin as he sidled up and gave Finn a light peck. “Better, Pocket Pots?”

Harry stuck his tongue between his teeth in a comical imitation of Sirius’ concentration face; Remus shoulders shook as he held back his amusement. “Almonds.”

“What?”

“Almost,” Sirius corrected gently. “Not almonds. Close, though.”

“Tremzy!” Harry called. Logan looked up from Katie, who was quite happily upside down as he swung her like a clock pendulum. “You’ve gotta make Harzy’s lips purple!”

“Do I?” Logan glanced back down. “Can I set you down, ma princesse?”

“No!”

“Okay,” he laughed, hauling her over with careful steps. Finn leaned down to kiss him; over his shoulder, Leo and Harry made faces at each other.

“This is perfect,” Sirius murmured, resting his forehead against Remus’ (admittedly sweaty) hair. Remus closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let the stress of wedding planning roll off his back. He could be surrounded by their family in a sea of color for just a little longer—they could be there together.

“I’m proud to be with you,” he said as Regulus clambered onto Leo’s back for ‘a better view’.

It was a cheesy sentiment, but they had never shied away from romcom moments before. He felt Sirius’ soft huff of breath on his temple. “Re…”

I’ll never get tired of the way you say my name. “That’s me.”

The sigh turned to quiet laughter and a kiss. “We are such a cliché.”

“But you love it.”

“Damn right I do.” His lips were sweet and a little sticky, still; Remus wanted to drown in the feeling. “I will always be proud to be with you.”

“Uncle Pads!”

“Yes?” Sirius lifted him out of Finn’s arms with a dramatic groan. “You’re growing up too fast!”

Harry squished his cheeks, then poked the tip of his nose. “Why don’t you wear rainbows?”

Sirius frowned slightly. “I’m wearing rainbows right now.”

“But you only wear them now.”

“You want me to wear rainbows every day?” He cast a look at Remus, who half-shrugged.

“You do look good.”

“Everybody should wear rainbows all the time,” Harry declared. Down the street, a series of party poppers went off, followed by loud cheering from another group.

“Excuse me?” a timid voice asked. Remus startled slightly and turned around; a small group of teenagers was huddled by the massive balloon arch. One young man held his phone up. “Could we—uh, could we get a picture with you guys?”

“Do you want me to take it for you?” Leo offered as Finn took Harry again.

The kid’s eyes went wide, and he nodded enthusiastically. “Sure, thanks!”

“Alright, on three!” Leo squinted in the sunshine as they gathered in a semicircle. “One, two, three, smile!”

“Could we get one with you, too?” one of the girls asked when he lowered the camera.

Sirius took the camera as they shuffled around and swapped positions, crowding close to the rainbow balloons while Harry played with Remus’ colorful suspenders. “Ready? Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” they chorused.

“I got a couple, just in case.” He handed the phone back to the first boy with a smile. “Are you guys having a good time?”

“Yeah, this is amazing,” he answered, a little breathless. “It’s—this is so cool. Thanks again.”

“Pas de problem.”

Remus glanced over just in time to see the girl bump her own rainbow bracelet with Leo’s; both of them were grinning broadly. “Have fun today, okay?” he said, giving the shortest of the group a high five. A jumble of goodbyes answered before they hurried back into the crowd, whispering among themselves while their pins flashed in the sun.

“They were cute,” Sirius said, watching them go with an indecipherable look. “Feels good to know it meant something, y’know?”

“It always does,” Remus agreed, snuggling against his side despite the heat. “I wish—”

Sirius looked down at him when he faltered; Harry yawned so wide his eyes closed. “What?”

“I wish we had this when we were kids.”

Regulus and Leo tumbled out of the rapidly-growing crowd, bickering over who got which part of the cotton candy, while Kasey stood as still as he could so Natalie could finish the small bi flag on his cheek. Sirius’ whole face lit up as he watched them. “It’s even better now.”

Remus watched the second wave of the parade build around them—people of every shape and size were decked out in a whole spectrum of colors, turning the street into a living rainbow in the afternoon sun. He tucked his hand into Sirius’ back pocket and laced their free hands together, listening to his heartbeat under his cheek. “This is the best thing we’ve ever done.”

“Coming to Pride?”

“No.” He held their hands up, and Sirius’ ring caught the light. “This.”

[lalaangeldust]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 & 𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

[ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ] : none :)

[ 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ] : kaminari denki // bakugo katsuki // sero hanta

𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢

ah yes, the bakusquad's resident pretty boy

he would definitely be the most obvious about his crush

two words: shitty flirting

horrible pick-up lines and just overall bad flirting

he pulls through sometimes though ( with sero's advice ) and his ego inflates through the roof if he can get you flustered and blushing

but if you give him the same energy, he will immediately combust

all function out the window

congratulations, you broke denki

none of your possessions are safe when denki is within the vicinity

shirts, hoodies, skirts, hats, jewelry, hair accessories

if he can grab it, he will have it

he has worn / stolen everything in your closet at least once, if not it is most definitely his goal

it does not matter if he fits it or not, he will make it work

he has no shame

but one time he stretched out one of your favorite skirts and it tore a bit and he felt soooo bad

"it not my fault i have a fat ass, y/n"

but he brought you to the mall on a date with him to get a new one, so it's all works out ;)

denki honestly just lives to make you laugh

every time he's the reason you're laughing, it makes his chest puff up so big

DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON MF TICKLING

if you two are close, he will without a doubt start a mock wrestling match and it always turns into a tickling fit with you pinned underneath him and wailing

but do NOT under any circumstances tickle him

he with shriek like a girl and accidentally activate his quirk

you nearly died

HE FELT BAD FOR THAT TOO

he's also just so infatuated with like- everything you do????

it doesn't matter how mundane you think it might be, as long as you're doing it, denki is so enthralled watching whatever it is you're doing

it's rather endearing

in all honesty, he'd probably blurt out he likes you outta no where while in the middle of a convo

he lights up every time your name is so much as mentioned

or- or

he'd be day dreaming, completely lost in his own world and someone would come up to him and ask him what he's thinking ab cus he looks basically dead to the world

still in a daze from being abruptly brought back to reality he'd just dreamily sigh, "y/n~" without even realizing

mans was SO embarrassed afterwards

face was beet red

*frantically looks around to see if you heard him or not*

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

bonus: love languages!!

physical touch // giving

words of affirmation // receiving

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

𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢

he's so emotionally constipated

that's not to say we wouldn't know he'd have feelings for you

he's actually pretty emotionally intelligent, and would be very perceptive of your emotions contrary to popular belief, he's just oblivious to his own feelings and emotions

he'd just ignore them

try his best to ignore you

key word try

but he always gives in and he'd make up dumb reasons to come bother you like-

he'd barge into your dorm while you're studying and he'd be like

"y/n i need a pen,"

"oh? uh ok, here you can have this one," you hand him a pen that you happened to have tucked behind your ear

"no not that one,"

...????

"can't you go to momo and ask her to make the pen you want..?"

bakugo starts to get grumpy at this point lmao

"no, she doesn't know how to make it,"

"well, what pen do you want..??"

bakugo hesitates cus he doesn't wanna admit that he doesn't actually want a pen, he wants to be with you

"that one," he lamely points at a beat up tinkerbell pen that you've had since you were like twelve

"really?? out of all the pens you choose that one?"

"shut up and just get it"

"... you can grab it,"

he goes and grabs it and goes to walk out the door without a word and right before he leaves he leans back and looks at you

"i need a pencil"

"OH MY GOD BAKUGO"

he kept the tinkerbell pen btw

like denki, bakugo would steal things from your dorm and not just anything, things that are actually inconvenient to misplace

he'd take your bobby pin container or your favorite brush so you'd come to him to ask where it went, he'd give it back ofc but not without a fight

he'd act totally clueless and he'd wait till you actually start to get pissed to tell you where he actually put your thing

so back to how he'd actually be very aware of your emotions

he'd notice the smallest changes and can always tell when you're upset but he wouldn't exactly know how to help you

so instead of using words, he'd use actions

you had a really bad day and he walked you to your dorm and when he came in he's like

"shit, your dorm is a fucking disaster, how do you live like this," you scowl at bakugo cus like- wtf i'm rlly emotional here you're not helping

he scoffs and bends down to start picking up your shit

"seriously, i have no idea how you find anything in here, nothing is organized" and he'd just keeps grumbling like an old man while completely cleaning and reorganizing your room

dont you dare try and help him though, he will yell at you

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

bonus: love languages!!

acts of service // giving

quality time // receiving

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

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE

sero SCREAMS besfriends to lovers troupe

like- you two are already practically dating without even realizing it

the romantic tension

you guys banter and flirt with eachother so often, you both have no idea whether you're serious when you jokingly call the other sexy or not

the oblivious idiots troupe

sero makes everything a competition

not nearly to extent as bakugo would, but still goes a bit over the top

he'd use anything as an excuse to show off for you

one time, like the spiderman fanboy he is, he challenged you to see who can hang upside down the longest without passing out ( literally the stupidest idea, sero, you're going to loose braincells )

sero won, obviously and he takes full advantage of bragging rights

everyone says how denki's the flirt and whatever but NO

sero is the biggest mf flirt and denki got his game from him

so with that being said, you are not safe

HE IS A BULLY

he respects boundaries of course but that doesn't mean he's not gonna try and test his limits a bit and mess with you

he's always trying to get you flustered

god forbid you're shorter than him because he will tease the shit outta you for it

when you two train together, mf goes on overdrive ESPECIALLY if you two happen to be sparring together

he'd hover over you and lean his face in ever so slightly while your talking to him just to get a rise outta you

TILT YOUR HEAD UP WITH ONE FINGER

"could you repeat that? i'm having a hard time hearing,"

SHEEEEEEEE

but you also make fun of him for being tall, so it checks out

whenever he says some slick shit you're just like-

"I'm sorry, what? That's funny coming from someone who's above the national average height. you're disgusting, tall man; shrink perhaps" ( if anyone knows what tiktok audio i'm referencing, i'm in love with you )

hope you have your casket ready because sero's gonna slaughter your ass for that shit

ok but one time while you two were partnered up for hero training, you got on his nerves and he tied you up and left you hanging and the mf just left

maaaan were you livid

15 minutes

15 minutes you were left up there while sero was doing god knows what

you gave him the silent treatment for the rest of the day and sero was genuinely distressed cus he didn't mean to make you so mad

but lucky for him, he always knows how to get you to smile no matter how sad or are or how angry you are with him

he shoots you a piece of tape with his handwriting on it

he made up some stupid, horribly written poem asking for your forgiveness and he's just looking at you the entire time you're reading it with an exaggerated pout

how can you say mad at him?

on the topic of him sending you notes on his tape

he'd totally leave pieces of his tape in really obscure places in your dorm or even under your desk

they'd be really stupid messages too like-

"you stink"

or a really random inside joke you two have that makes literally no sense but even just the thought of it makes you laugh to tears

he'd also leave little origami figures he made with his tape in random places for you to find too

or he'd just give them to you

you have a shelf specifically dedicated for the things sero has made for you ( and he's really touched you actually keep all his shitty arts and crafts projects )

in conclusion, sero is the best and he is my favorite and i'd die for him

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

bonus: love languages!!

gift giving // giving

physical touch // giving and recieving

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

If you guys want, i can elaborate on their love languages in another post! <3

𝒇𝒊𝒏 . ✩

[misslilli]

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 21 - The Halloween Fair

[ DS ]

On the afternoon of the Halloween fair, I take out the costume that Miss Hannigan picked out for me from the closet. Ever since I’ve got it, I’m beyond excited to wear it. It’s a black low-cut shirt, a white, checkered suit with a blazer that ties at the waist and a flaring skirt. As I put on the blonde wig and the black beret, I turn to the mirror channeling my best inner Faye Dunaway and say to myself in a breathy, southern lilt: “My, my, don’t you just look dandy, Miss Bonnie Parker!”

My friends have been roped into manning the booths of the fair and somehow, I’ve slipped under the town people’s radars, which leaves me able to roam around the fair, albeit alone. Since I’ve known most people in this town ever since I was little, I’m never actually alone at these happenings, people tend to just pull me into their conversation as I walk by. But as luck will have it, as I’m rounding one of the booths of the fair, I find myself face to face with the one person I had secretly hoped to see.

He’s wearing a brown tweed suit with a matching waistcoat and over the white collared shirt he’s tied an emerald green tie. Perched on his head is a white fedora. ‘Shit. He’s Clyde. What the fuck?’

We stop in our tracks and stare at each other for a moment, taking in our respective costumes. He’s the first one to regain his ability to speak.

“Hey Bonnie, the laws are outside, they’re blockin’ the driveway!” His Warren Beatty impression is perfect right down to the Texan drawl. ‘God help me…’

“Gosh, I hope you’ve parked the getaway car around the corner, Clyde!” I’m putting on my best Faye Dunaway impression again as I add a wink to my statement and just continue to walk past him. My heart thumping hard against my chest betrays my cool exterior, but that’s my secret and my secret alone.

----------

[ FM ]

When we finally get to the Halloween fair that Felix has roped me into, dressed up in a costume I didn’t even pick myself. We trail the grounds together and we’re drawn to the candy apple booth. Well actually, Felix draws us to this exact booth, the little sneak, but I can’t resist his pout and pleading eyes, so we end up getting an apple each. Munching away happily, his mouth full, he asks the question I’ve been too scared to ask myself: “Hey dad, do you think Miss Scully is here too with her friends?” I hope she is, if only to see what kind of costume she has picked out for herself, but I can’t tell Felix that. Instead, I just shrug and we continue our stroll across the town square.

When we round another booth, we both stop in our tracks as we see a blonde woman appear before us , dressed in a checkered suit and a beret on her head. ‘Bonnie. She’s the freakin’ Bonnie to your Clyde. Your sidekick. No, your partner in crime. The woman you love. In the movie of course. Insert awkward cough.’.

Felix is oblivious of course, he hasn’t seen the movies and I doubt he even knows what my costume is, let alone Miss Scully’s. I scrape together the last braincells that are left in my head and a stupid movie quote is the only thing I can think of at this moment.

“Hey Bonnie, the laws are outside, they’re blockin’ the driveway!” The retort she gives me combined with her wink render me speechless until she’s well past me and Felix, mingling with the small crowd that welcomes her into their midst just a few feet away from us.

Felix does the thing I wish I could bring myself to do, staring at her retreating form in wonder and he also speaks the words that have sprung to my own mind.

“Wow!”

----------

[ DS ]

Countless conversations later and a little tipsy on the delicious apple cider they always serve at the Halloween fair, I wander along the booths when I hear a voice I haven’t heard in over a year. And could’ve gone forever not hearing again. It’s my ex-whatever Steve, talking to one of his friends.

I’m hidden pretty well in the crowd of people due to my shortness but I can still catch flashes of their conversation. When I hear my name, I stop, straining my ears.

“Dana? Oh God, no. She’s not even close to being a serious contender for a relationship.” I wince at his statement as well as the tone of his voice. “She’s just always there, you know? Like a well trained Golden Retriever, I say the word and she comes running. Such an easy lay!” When they share a laugh I can feel the flush of shame and anger crawl up my neck.

The situation he describes is exactly what I’ve spent countless hours in therapy getting over. But what he says next really drives a stake through my heart. “It’s so pathetic, but if it’s what I have to do to get laid, whatever. She’s even dirtier in bed than any hot teacher fantasy you could ever imagine and what they say about good Catholic girls is very, very accurate, if you know what I mean!”

If he weren’t the demon I have to face every time I try to get over my past, I would’ve revealed myself and give his ass a good kicking for talking about me the way he has. But not knowing how I’ll react to being face-to-face with him, I stay hidden behind a group of mummies and zombies like a fucking coward.

I’m so furious with him and myself for not being able to stand up to him. Where the hell are my friends when I need them? I haven’t seen them all evening and I could really use their company to talk some sense into me. Since they’re nowhere to be found, I head towards the bar set up in the back and slide onto a stool, ordering a shot of Tequila. ‘Fuck it! That low-life is not even worth your time of day!’

On the surface, I’m so angry I want to set this whole damn place on fire, but deep down, the past hurt resurfaces to join the hurt from his words I just heard.

By the time I’ve downed my second shot, I’ve repeated the mantra that I’m a strong woman who’s better off without men in my head about a thousand times. I see someone slide onto the stool next to me out of the corner of my eye as I order another shot of Tequila to keep the two empty glasses in front of me company.

“A third shot of Tequila is just asking for trouble, if you ask me.” I turn my head slowly towards my bar-mate to tell him exactly where to shove his smart-ass remark when I’m faced with my supposed partner in crime, the charming one with the disarmingly innocent smile on his stupid face. I’m staring him down defiantly, my eyes never leaving his while the bartender places my glass in front of me and I grab it, downing it in a swift motion, daring him in my mind to say anything else. He doesn’t comment, good for him, and orders a shot for himself, just raising his glass silently and I clink it with my empty one – I’m tipsy, not insane, chasing one shot with another.

We’re staring straight ahead during our conversation, turning our glasses over and over between our fingers.

“Which guy seems to be the problem and how many rounds of ammo do I need to take him out?,” he asks after minutes of silence. I want to lean into him for just assuming that it’s a man that has me sitting here seething, but unfortunately, he’s right. This one time.

“How many rounds you got?” He scoffs at that.

“Plenty. And I know of exactly eleven ways to get rid of a body without raising suspicion.”

“And here I was thinking the FBI frowned upon their employees giving out top-level secrets on how to hide away evidence of a crime committed.”

“I’m not going to tell you, I wouldn’t want you to be held in contempt of Congress when questioned.”

“How do you know I wouldn’t rat you out when questioned by Congress?”

“Just a hunch… Talk to me, Red. What happened tonight?” He turns towards me and I can feel his gaze dancing over the skin of my face.

“You really want to know? Well, turns out the asshole of an ex of mine decided that today might be the perfect time to make an encore appearance in my life and reminded me again why I should’ve kicked him to the curb a long time ago instead of hoping I could change him.” Looking down at the bar, I trace my finger through the condensation drops, my anger slowly dissipating and my voice growing more and more quiet. “I heard him say some pretty awful things about me tonight.”

I relax into his hand when he places it comfortingly on my back, right between my shoulder blades, and huff out a sigh. “I’m sorry.,” is the only thing he says, but doesn’t add anything else, giving me the choice if I wanted to elaborate or not.

“What I witnessed today was the way he’s always been but I just couldn’t see through the masquerade of the sweet guy, he was so kind and said all the right things and he quite literally wooed the pants off me from the get-go.”

“Love bombing.” ‘Oh yeah, I forgot, you’re a profiler. You probably already got one worked out for me, trust-issues, anxious attachment style, possibly daddy issues, in short, a hot mess. Avoid at all costs.’

“Pretty much, yeah. And I was stupid enough to believe it.” I raise my hand to call over the bartender for another round.

“You’re not stupid. It’s hard to tell the difference between genuine interest and love bombing in the beginning.” ‘Yeah, no shit Sherlock. It’s exactly why I’m sitting here torn between wanting you to make a pass at me and being absolutely terrified that you actually will.’

“How about we pass on the shots and get some water instead before calling it a night?”

“I think that’s probably a good idea, Mr. Mulder!”

“You know, after tonight, what do you say we just drop the Mister?” I nods slowly, pursing my lips.

“So just Fox?” He makes a pained face.

“No, please don’t. Just Mulder is fine.”

“Mh-hm. I guess since we’re dropping the titles, that that makes me Scully? Little odd, but alright!”

We get the check and argue back and forth about who gets to pay, him putting an end to it with a firm “Will you give it a rest, you’ll get to pick up the next check!”.

In my attempt to slide off the barstool gracefully despite three tequila shots, my heel catches onto the rail at the bottom and I stumble over the stool, knocking it over in the process. I have only his quick reflexes to thank that I don’t follow suit, his arms catching me around my waist and pulling me upright again.

He has the audacity to laugh, the bastard, and I’m beyond mortified. “Easy there, partner! Do you need a ride home? Felix is at a pajama party at his friend Suzie’s house, so I’m free to be your pumpkin carriage for tonight.” ‘NO! Yes? No. Get your hands off me. Don’t let go just yet.’

I’m so confused at the tug of war in my fuzzy head but I hate getting a cab alone and I’m in heels on top of being tipsy, I don’t want to walk home alone at night.

As we walk out, his hand finds his way to the small of my back guiding me through the crowds while making sure I don’t stumble again.

On the drive to the beach house, I manage not to fall asleep despite how tired I feel, too afraid of snoring or, God forbid, drooling onto myself. His hands find my back again guiding me up the stairs to the front door and I turn to face him at the top, even more nervous.

“Thanks for the ride, Mulder. And for listening.”

“Anytime, Scully. Good night!”

When he leans in, I start to panic that this is it and I think it shows on my face, because he only kisses my cheek, just like I did after the birthday party before getting back in the car and heading home. I can’t decide if I’m relieved or disappointed.

I can’t ignore the flutter of excitement every time his hands land anywhere on my body but what I will absolutely deny, even to myself, is the way my heart constricts in my chest when he gazes at me that way and the sense of comfort that settles over me when we’re together.

Bodily reactions I can deal with, it’s when it comes to emotions is where it gets scary.

I just don’t think my heart can survive another Steve.

[cynthiaandsamus]

Custom Toonami Block Week 74 Rundown

Code Geass: So we’ve got another one of those “wacky bullshit student activities” episodes, though this one seems to ride the hardest on “shit is going down, the world is ending but haha Shirley romance drama” though admittedly it does have a nice character arc for Milly so that’s cool. Lelouch is worried that the Knights of the Round are here to investigate him until he realizes both of them only have one braincell between them so it’s fine. Cornelia’s also murdering her way through religious fanatics so that’s cool. And last but not least we have Shirley and Lelouch finally getting together right before Jeremiah Geass Cancels her amnesia so she knows Lelouch is Zero and killed her dad and presumably the other stuff that Charles put in the whole school’s brain somehow. I’m sure this will end well and their romance will survive in a way that isn’t insanely tragic.

Inuyasha: We’re still in fillertown and it’s another SangoxMiroku episode. Man we get a lot of these in filler huh? I kinda don’t remember which Sango/Miroku moments are canon at this point. I’d kinda laugh if it was just all filler and some manga-only fans were bewildered when they ended up together in the end. Anyway, Feudal Lord has a thing for Sango because he has great taste and Kagome ships Sango/Miroku so she doesn’t want her to go, Miroku’s like “Hey it’s her choice, she’s been through enough, she can choose her own life, I’m not gonna get involved” which is pretty mature but the girls still hate on him for it. Sango’s just like “Dude even if I wanted to stay I still have this Naraku-slaying quest to go on and I’m not about to sit around all day and be royalty while my friends go kick Naraku’s ass for me.” Which is how most love confessions in this series go. Also Sango suplexes a demon bear the size of a building with her bare hands and it’s pretty great. In the end the lord doesn’t give up going after Sango but they finish the bear stuff and are on their way. I like how they don’t go out of their way to demonize this guy in the end to prop Miroku up, he’s still a good guy, Sango’s just got shit to do and is more the type to like a warrior who’s got her back. There’s some really cute shipping shenanigans here and all in all it’s fun filler.

Yu Yu Hakusho: We’ve got a three for one deal here as Yusuke and Kuwabara assblast their way through the Dark Triad in one episode, continuing their power play of beating villains with little effort while the boss man bets that they’ll completely wreck his guards which is still a pretty interesting dynamic. We’ve got cringey 90s trans commentary, an invisible dude that gets blindsided easily and a hostage ogre that gets beaten by Botan taking off her coat. Honestly for these guys being supposedly minibosses they kind of went down easier than some of the grunts. But now Kuwabara’s in contact with Yukina because his bullshit power of love connection actually works for some reason and they’re in on the final fight with the Toguro brothers. With this many people betting the GDP of countries on the fight there’s no way this isn’t rigged. I really like how YYH basically makes shonen fights just part of stupid black market deals for a large part of it, just like in real life everything’s decided by some old rich guy.

Fate Zero: Kayneth’s still fucked up and has Rock Lee syndrome and can’t use jutsu anymore so his wife’s like “Yo buddy you can’t give Lancer the magic cummies anymore anyway, lemme take control of your hunky knight manslave or I swear to god I’ll rip your arm off and jerk him off with it” which since she asked so nicely he just kind of does. With Lancer still kinda being uppity about Kayneth having dibs on his soul and Sola-Ui being weirdly horny and increasingly yandere for him I’m sure this’ll end well. Saber and Kiritsugu are still pissy with each other because Saber wants to go after Caster to stop the child murders which is fair but she’s also injured and shit and she’s mad at Kiritsugu for not teaming up with Kayneth to just take down Caster right there and I mean I don’t think he really had time to suggest a truce while getting attacked with Terminator 2 goo, he’s not really the asshole here. Meanwhile and more importantly, ISKANDAR HAS PANTS! Nothing can stop him now and they crash Caster’s child murder party and are jumped by Assassin’s Forty Thieves (they aren’t named yet but I’mma just assume) and Iskander’s just like “Yeah no I’m not fighting five ninjas knee deep in child guts.” And they just burn the whole place down.

Konosuba: So in a bizarre Interspecies Reviewers/Food Wars crossover, Kazuma goes to a succubus house and instead of just getting sex they do dreams and shit which seems more complicated but I guess it’s less morally gray. Anyway, naked Darkness and contrived hentai plots ensue. They sprinkle in some good character stuff for Kazuma which is nice, it’s always kind of hard to pin down where his principles lie. Like he’s generally a scumbag and will take the easy way out of anything but he’s not evil and will give Darkness an out on their encounter if she wants and will get his ass kicked to protect his local sex worker. The Principled Scumbag approach is kind of neat for him, I wish a few more of these moments didn’t feel the need to immediately undercut themselves with a joke but that’s the nature of the series. I feel like one or two more genuinely sincere moments throughout a couple episodes would do wonders but either way it’s still amusing.

Sailor Moon Crystal: We pick up right where we left off with Tuxedo Mask throwing himself in front of the Kamehameha for Usagi and then she goes Super Saiyan and cries pokemon tears to bring him back to life. But the bad guys are somehow like ‘yoink’ and steal him from her lap through a barrier somehow (that still kinda pisses me off) and for some reason the crystal that booped its way into his chest isn’t there anymore and Usagi still has and and Usagi’s going through a lot of shit right now between processing the trauma of a millennia-old kingdom falling that’s partially her fault, working through her romantic feelings and having a Steven Universe identity crisis about how to process her identity as a reincarnation of someone a lot cooler than she is, so most of this episode is Usagi crying, as most episodes are, but at least she has a good reason.  Then we get a Girl Squad Roll Out montage because fuck it we’re going to the moon somehow.

Durarara!!:  Apparently everyone knows about where Celty’s head is but her because she visits Izaya’s office where the head is just kinda behind some books on his bookshelf and she doesn’t know but Shinra’s dad has enough time to mug Namie after telling Shinra and Celty off for their weird interspecies relationship and tell Izaya to have fun fucking around with the head. Also people have shifted from being worried about the Dollars to being worried about Saika and ALSO being worried about the Dollars maybe being at war with the Yellow Scarves. Celty’s looking into it and Shinra shows some character development in just coming out with it that Saika was the sword that severed her connection with her head… I don’t know how you cut the soul of a head that’s already cut off but okay, at least Shinra’s not hiding shit from here anymore. Also Saika’s about to seriously chop up Anri and Masaomi comes to visit his girl in the hospital finally.

[goodomens-goodomenseverywhere]

Loki ep 6 thoughts

-FEAR

-recap reminds me I hate ravonna

-I want more mobius/sylvie

-THE SONG WAHHH

-The QUOTES IN THE INTRO?? WAHHH?,

-OH,?? REAL PEOPLE VOICES??

-Greta thin burg I love u

-upside down heart in rock

-THE SUSOICIOUS LACK OF THEME MUSIC WITH THE LOKI LOGO

-this music slaps everyone say thank u Natalie holt

-they look so good….ugh

-sylvies hair…wah

-THE LITTLE CALLBACK TO LAMENTIS

-she’s asking him to tell her to stop :’)

-best buds I love dem

-she’s pulling the ‘I’m 8 minutes older than u!!’ Argument that every twin pulls

-she needs a moment now but she didn’t hesitate back in ep 4. Hmm

-Tom looks fuckin great here let’s not lie

-statues?? Omg who

-ominous door slam

-I FUCKING JUMPED

-OMINOUS ‘HEY YALL???’

-THAT WAS HORRIFYING

-what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

-I need a second

-I’m so sorry that gives me the ‘HEY SISTERS’ jumpscare energy I’m laughing but terrified

-kang

-it’s fuckin kang aint it

-oh he scared

-he’s scared

-of the lokis

-wants to bargain with them hmm

-bitchboy

-this never ends well

-BRO HES PAST THIS STUPID FUCKIN BATTLE

-this is a trick loki PLS DONT FALL FOR IT

-full offense but ‘we can reinsert you so you won’t disrupt the timeline’ and ‘you can kill thanos and have the infinity gauntlet’ cannot POSSIBLY coincide

-her eyes are creepy

-don’t let this overrule your GOAL SYLVIE

-god one of you have braincells pls

-oh she thinks they’re a thing too huh

-Disney don’t do it I stg

-THANK u

-sylvie looks so annoyed girl me too

-even my cat’s confused

-I don’t wanna have any sympathy for ravonna don’t show me those stupid fuckin rings

-LMAO THE CLOCK IS PLAYING RAVONNA TOO

-why is this so funny

-knife buds

-I shouldn’t love him but I kinda do

-okay but they’re so funny just holding their knives to him

-I’m so sorry sylvie is so cute

-her little hair flips

-it’s a Loki thing

-he’s funny but I’m fairly certain I’m gonna hate him

-at least call her by her preferred name bitch

-MOBIUS MY KINGGGGG

-WHAT A BAD BITCH I FUCKIN LOVE YOU

-“one mans void is another man’s….piece of cake”

-SHES SO ANNOYEDFKSIFKS

-youre not sorry bitch

-LMAO B-15 YOU BAD FUCKING BITCH

-OMG OMG OMG PRINCIPAL NOT-RAVONNA IS SO HOT

-B-15 like I’ll expose the fuck outta your ass

-Loki I love you but this is obviously bigger than you think

-man’s a script writer omg

-ugh not him being a sylkie shipper

-man I hate u

-NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN IM TIRED

-right when they thought they could start doing their own thing and making their own decisions he’s like SIKE!!!

-I sad

-this bitch is exactly why I’m like meh on Christian god

-must be boring

-man I don’t want him to turn them against each other

-IS THIS A RELIGIOUS ALLEGORY

-ravonna is. A little unhinged

-‘an illusion conjured by the the weak to inspire fear. A desperate bid from control’

-I’m sorry but she sounds like cliche christians

-this is coming from a cradle Catholic

-why is this the mokius/Loki fight from ep 4 all over again

-she literally says crisis of faith

-mobius: hey I think this entire institution has manipulated us and I'm gonna try and figure out what's at the bottom of it

ravonna: lies to him, has him killed

ravonna: wow i cant believe he would betray me like that

-no bc its giving Aaron burr 'now I'm the villain in your history'

-its giving catra and adora in s1 when adora's like 'they're awful' and catras like 'yeah we been knew. How dare u not condone that'

-except I don't ship Mobius and ravonna

-I had to pause to write this rant

-she threatens to prune him again as if he wouldn't just go back to the void

-mobius: we can't take away ppl's free will

Ravonna: i disagree

mobius: where are u going

ravonna: in search of free will

-PICK A SIDE

-IM TIRED

-mobius being left ONCE AGAIN

-poor bitch

-everyone has evil clones just let shit happen

-why is it literally an entire religious allegory

-HW FOUND BABY ALIOTH

-im so confused

-what does the illusion of the time keepers do at all

-he fills the same spot as them either way

-is it anonymity?

-why doesn't he just kill all the bad variants of himself

-he sounds like a liar I don't trust him

-hes just an asshole

-why doesn't he offer ppl the option to work for the tva

-if he thinks they'll still work under Sylvie and Loki then he must think they'd help

-why does he look scared

-idk why but I'm real tired of all this

-time shit's confusing

-dude i just want lokius interaction

-NOOO NOT A SYLKIE FIGHT

-no I’m so ficking emo

-I want them to be besties

-“because you can’t trust. And I can’t be trusted”

-bro I’m sad

-I’m so sad ab Loki

-he’s trying so hard not to hurt her pls

-WAHHHHH

-I am going to SOB

-HE THREW HIS SWORD DOWN IM GOING TO CRY

-he’s GROWN SO MUCH

-LOUD CRYING

-that’s it I’m fucking logging out

-Disney I hate you

-I’m so fucking pissed

-I’m so tempted not to finish this episode I’m mad

-anger fills me from top to bottom

-NOT THIS AGAIN

-I am taking a moment

-are you SERIOUS

-man

-my exact words when she says ‘I’m not you’ were “AH fuck. GODdammit” but I need you to take the liberty of imagining the exhaustion in my voice

-bro I’m just so mad

-I’m like apathetic to the rest of the plot rn sorry

-I couldn’t care less ab this

-man I am so disappointed

-I’m sorry I just am

-does it really fuckin have to go like that

-god at least let me have one last Lokius moment

-Tom Hiddleston’s deliverance of that rant was so fucking good

-like. You can hear how truly fucked up he is about all this. We’ve never seen Loki like this

-I’m rly emo about it

-I’m actually going to kill marvel

-I am. Divorcing this show

-are you fucking kidding me

-no because fuck you

-FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

-I am SO ANGRY

-I am going to be pissed forever

-you fucking make MOBIUS FORGET HIM?? JUST LIKE THAT???

-GODDAMIR

-SO IS THIS MOTHERFUCKER KANG THE CONQUERER??

-I’m so tired

-I just want to take a long fucking nap

-I’m gonna spend the next few years pretending this episode doesn’t exist

-fuck everything man. I’m fucking mad I haven’t been this mad since I watched infinity war in theaters.

-with that I will be. Dying somewhere

[luminous-shifting-vibes]

*sequel* to actual fucking quotes from the shiftblr coffeehouse discord server

once again, it's out of context because x1000 funnier

also x1000 longer than previous post

"ur satan is gnc af"

"Bestie I’m already having gender envy over a fucking demon please"

"O_O ODEPIJHFbavevisdpvfhzdcnjawedsidjksjdkoeirjfmkdsoeirujdksodifjndmksoidfjdksidfj ITS" NOT IN MY FRAFTS IS SPEDNT 1 hour PN THAT SHIT"

"AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

"ohoho sexy"

"I am very proud of myself"

"himbo x edgy fuck"

"YOU COULD SQUISH HES CHEECKS"

"he has teefs"

"SQUASH"

"good for biting 📷"

"he's a himbo basically"

"B͂̒̄iͫ̍̈tͧ̓ͯè̄̇"

"bifth"

"i havent watched blue exorcist in years but mr okumura my beloved </3"

"MY LIFE QUESTIONS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED"

"is it important information to mention that the person i put up for my turn is the son of satan" "I know like 1 thing about everyone who isnt ranboo lmfao"

"crimes"

"tumblr sexyman"

"idk why but my first thought was cowboy onceler"

"I vibe with him but he is very long and twisty"

"steampunk e-girl"

"steampunk tumblr sexyman"

"Canonically bi crimelord I agree!!"

"OOO FRIEND SHAPED"

"ARTIST SIGHTED"

"they look like someone i would want to be friends with but is way cooler than me so i'd never actually talk to them"

"babby..... would die for him"

"honestly i probably kin him"

"i'm sure he's lovely but he looks way too much like my ex i'm sorry-"

"i'd be down for another rotation! i have another twink to show y'all"

"Also :00 blonde friend"

"Let us all infodhmo"

"Hsjagdvbs shhh im on phone"

"Nix woukd you like to joon?

"skitters away"

"I have two braincells and they both drink dumb bitch juice"

"oof wait whats the order again i have 0 memory"

"i want to bond with him over cosplay-"

"Awkwardly watches in band kid"

"One day I'm gonna a broadway star"

"which isnt to say they were bad. they were just fortnite dancing during rehersals"

"I threw it so hard my glasses flew off and slid under the stage right divider"

"anyway heres my boi"

"emo"

"haha emo"

"virgil sanders kinnie"

"he looks like he listens to my chemical panic at the fallout boy"

"Bro I bet he'd kick my ass with his deck"

"bird man my beloved"

"fuck i had so much to say and then i forgot it all"

"Birds!!"

"guiguhuh"

"crabrave"

"She sounds like someone I would end up stealing her personality"

"yess name collector gang"

"alias glass aiden haven absinthe fish brick rice"

"But I have Cypress, Remure, Genesis, Lemres, and Comet"

"And she's named after a mars candy bar bc alien"

"Hey, if plato went by plato, you can be king thief"

"im not dissing my gramma like that shfojd"

"My dad has seven legal names" "bitches be like *looks at fictional character* *steals their name* it's us we're bithces"

"coraline lowkey traumatized me but i adore it regardless"

"mmmmmm magic man :]"

"°0° green man"

"criminal (affectionate)"

"he would shoplift a candy bar from walmart and then brag to all of his friends about the sick stealing he did"

"despite the fact he's canonically been capable of overpowering a minor deity"

"i would commit so many crimes for him"

"Very babey"

"Yes please tell green man he is very pog"

"he also keeps a lot of dumb secrets"

"but I will sorely miss the chaos and energy of this here chat until I wake again" (by request XD)

"i just say words and if they're funny then they're funny"

"* or extremly chaotic either works"

"at this point we are just taking turns rambling"

"oH--"

"bc my brain has a schedule"

"Hopefully they have gyoza there or I will lose my mind"

"hehe yes spooky man"

"my ghost glucose guardian"

"the head of the undead group that lives there, and we end up dating. (yes I date a ghost, no I will not be taking constructive criticism /lh)"

"ghosts r just inherently sexy"

"i mean im becoming a squid thing so"

"Raven quirk raven quirk!!"

"ł â m p"

"łæmp"

"mothman: ooh lamp you look very nice today! do you come here often? mothman: wait shit no"

"I'd date a ghost"

"mine is still accurate, i am still sobbing (/j)"

"p e e p e e"

""@nick wilde is a tumblr sexyman" is the best thing i have ever seen"

"im sorry im cackling like a dying hyena"

"you're all 12 year olds"

"PEENIE"

"He once caused global warming on accident so he could get a tan"

"god, what a himbo. i love him"

"that reminds me of my friends kin assigned me jesus"

"Man outside of battle be like: princely crying but then in battle hes like: "CATACLYSM! DISASTER! DEVASTATION!" Chill out man"

"Every time I talk about satan it never fails to shock people it's my favorite thing to do"

"im kin assigning him roman sanders" ""Oh yeah he caused global warming because he wanted to get girls" "he what""

"oh damn i forgot satan was straight"

"twink appreciation club"

"give us the twinks"

"my first thought was bottom-"

"so many people to try and get his dad to love him"

"daddy issued"

"OH MY GOD ITS WILBUR"

"Big boy but"

"anyways janus is swagggg"

"........................."

"gib twink"

"give twink then i will share"

"holds him gentle like hamburger"

"This dumb bitch opened a book that said "do not open" and got possessed by a little bastard"

"he is. fragile creachur"

"klug is beauty klug is grace i would let him step on my face"

"If I'm playing swap and I have to hear one more "Pwanet Powew" Im gonna lose it"

"Who is to blame? Pandora or the box?"

"Bakugo isnt my type but I respect the drip"

"i say like my type isnt long-haired pretty boys and girls that look so gnc that people have a history of confusing them for men"

"hes a gremlin and i can appreciate a pretty gremlin"

"that is to say i am attracted to VFlower vocaloid. This is a confession."

"note i am a lesbian"

"You may like Schezo wegey"

"why does he have one single expression"

"soul soul eater passes the vibe check"

"magic wand"

"I Want To Hold His Hand"

"i would commit a war crime for him any war crime idc which one"

"my favorite one is when he sounded rlly gay because he said "Muscular bodies keep me satisfied""

"p e a n u t"

"Klug is a homophobic homosexual its just facts"

"grug from the croods is peak male performance"

"jaw drops to floor, eyes pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, heart beats out of chest, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of mouth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens tie, combs hair Ahem, you look very lovely."

"tag yourself im the fireworks shooting from the top of the head"

"i like essays"

"central time gang"

"11:11 pog-" (wait... is that a suprise angel number?? yes it is lovelies just for you <3)

"Then again im also a dumbass bitch who wonders what the souls in soul eater taste like. SERIOUSLY THOUGH. THEY LOOK TASTY AS HELL!!!! LIKE GODDAMN BRO YOU'RE MAKING ME FUCKING HUNGRY. Like. that shit- it's Bone Apple motherfucking Teeth. hell yea my guy. Im hongy now.... shlorp I'm seriously considering this. Like. They seem kinda like a liquid? But a solid? Are they like jello? The fuck they taste like my guy???? I keep imagining they're like sour, like sour candy maybe? Or do they taste salty? Sweet? Maybe some combo of two? Do they even have a taste or is it about the texture? The sensation? God my mouth is watering what the hell. I am starving. I think I need to go get a cookie. I'm gonna go get a cookie. Brb. I'm better. I'm still craving souls though. Which is a weird-ass cringey thing to say but I'm being dead-ass rn. They just.... look tasty???? And I wanna eat one. Thus. I am shifting to Soul Eater for the express purpose of satisfying my fucking cravings. enjoy"

"points were made"

"jello? more like helloooo schloooAHFJDSDAIDWNALDHSJKDAIDANDM"

"WAIT I THINK I HAVE AN ANIME GIRL BITING VIDEO TOO"

"anime girl voice: mmm! mm... ahhhhmp!! mmm, mmm... aaahmp!"

"i think it sounds great i'm going to start eating like that"

"several people are typing"

"do these look edible to you"

"forbidden gummies"

"when I was on lsd I couldn't eat my fruit gummies because I thought they were alive because they had little faces on them"

"oh shit yeah don't do drugs"

"anyways general consensus is puyos are edible, ty for your input everyone"

"everypony is a word so powerful it can bring nations to its knees"

"pls the self control it's taking me not to say "hewwo everypony" in gen chat when someone new joins-"

"hewwo evewrypony uwu deaw cewestia i hopwe it doewsnt wain owo"

"ive cooked up a sowution wiwth the knowwege ive acwued. they say a kitcwen time saves niwne, but im just savwing two. Ive gathewwed the inwedients to make a time sowbet. Thewe's hawdly woom fow seconds when the seconds mewt away."

"I had a ten year old sister... you know what happened to her??? very sad, very tragic... she turned eleven....."

"NIIICE"

"Guts dont say the secks word :( /j"

"watch your fucking language in front of the president"

"im so sorry lumi"

"i think you're like ehhhh 8/10 funny"

"now me???? 10/10. Hilarious"

"sometimes i have to take a step back and remember that this is the same guts i follow on tumblr /lh"

""ok every here's some good shifting advice!!! uwu have a good day" "yeah i did lsd and ate fruit gummies""

"i have one setting and it's whatever this is"

"my bitch ass cat just pushed the door open with his fuzzy face and now my sleeping dad is being lulled into dreams by Cosmo Sheldrake's 'Pliocine'."

"me on discord: nick wilde"

"me on tumblr: shifting water! haha funne! me on here: my hermit crabs are cannibals also i want to eat souls."

"im sorry yOUR VIBESA RE JUST SO DIFFERNT"

"u give off older cousin ive never spoken to but always admire at the family gatherings vibes"

"what the fuck"

"BC I HAVE LIBERTU"

"If you adopt me then yes"

"am I qualified for dad jokes???"

"we're all a lot smarter on tumblr"

"I'm like "awww... sweet... sweet little shiftlings... posting such sweet shiftling content... so pure, so wholesome... does not even know abcs....""

"can't think before you speak if you never think B)"

"I'm not responsible enough to be a mom"

"cat pet"

"show us pictures of the cat or i will do Crime"

"maybe thats me being a coward tho"

"MOTH!!!! MOTH MY BELOVED"

if y'all want I can make this a series bc shiftblr keeps giving me more content

[thotsforvillainrights]

Umm, excuse me, but a while ago I requested a LOV with a ginger haired, blue eyed S/O without realizing tour box was closed (sorry about that). I was just wondering if you got that and were maybe possibly working on that now that the box is open. It's completely fine if you haven't or if you're too busy or don't feel like it. But I loved the one you did with the Shie Hassakai because that's my hair color and eye color. Have a nice day!

(I checked the cox all up and down and I hadn’t seen it in there! I’m sorry if Tumblr ate it or something, I hope you didn’t think I was ignoring you ahhh! Anyway, I’m glad you sent this so I can work on it!)

~LOV Ginger Hair, Blue Eyed S/O~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-Shigaraki: He doesn’t mean to be disrespectful by comparing you, but he can’t help it. You look just like his favorite support characters from a video game he plays fairly often. So I hope you’ll be fully prepared to possibly cosplay for him from time to time. Really he means no harm in it! He’s just amazed because he didn’t ever think to find someone that looks like that in the city. Don’t worry, he won’t go as far as to call you her/his/their name or anything like that. He still can separate reality from fiction.

-Dabi: Gives you this cheesy ass nickname “little flame” and yes, it’s 100% because of your hair. Although he has this teasing way about him, he genuinely loves how attractive you are and how cool your personality is compared to his. Plus you two share the same eye color as well? Maybe he’s just so into himself that he finds you pretty because he sees a little of himself in you haha. Just kidding! 

-Toga: Will literally treat you like a God/Goddess/royalty (as to be expected from her). She’s obsessed with cute things, and you fit the bill...even though she feels like you could be bloodied and beaten up just a bit more to add to it. Aside from this, she’ll pretty much treat you the way you expect her to do, but minus her stabbing (lucky you for staying vigilant). If anyone tries to get between you two or tries to flirt with you then she’ll kill them. If anyone makes fun of you because of your features, then (you guessed it) she’ll kill them.

-Kurogiri: Very respectfully tries to court you over a period of time. True he’s drawn to your appearance at first, but soon he gets to know your personality and he falls even further into that. Sometimes from afar he can’t help but to get lost in those eyes of yours. Shigaraki notices the way Kurogiri has begun to lose his basic focus almost everyday and gets enough of it. The boy literally comes to you and straight up exposes Kurogiri having a crush on you in the hopes you two will date and Kurogiri will focus on work again like he used to

-Muscular: You’re crazy if you don’t think he makes this your only personality trait. Of course he’s going to tease you and flirt with you endlessly in an attempt to get you in bed with him at least once a week (or more). Good luck dating him honestly because he’s got maybe 3 braincells and 2 of them are at the gym constantly. Still (although he won’t admit it), he really does care for you...even if he says “Hey Red, come meet me in the back eh?” at least 12 times a day.

-Moonfish: Has this crazy fixation on your hair but don’t think that’s the only reason he’s dating you! It’s just one of the best things to him to be able to scratch your scalp daily and play in it. He loves washing it in this berry scented shampoo and then sinking his face into it while you two rest at night. You seem to tame him in a way none of the others manage to do, so that’s why Shigaraki makes sure you always accompany him on missions in case he goes haywire.

-Spinner: He doesn’t care to be honest. Now I know you’re taking this the wrong way by now, but hear me out. He’s not uplifting you over every other girl/boy/person in the world just because you’re ginger and have blue eyes. Spinner is in love with you for more than appearances. He cares more about how you make him feel rather than how you look on his arm when going out places. Your looks are just an added plus because he will admit that you’re stunning.

-Mustard: This little asshole is cocky as ever. He’s always making petty/snooty/sly remarks to the others about how beautiful you are and how he has you when they have nothing. Very rude for sure...ESPECIALLY around the other members that may have a crush on you (like Dabi or Shigaraki of course). You might need to put your foot down and have a talk with him about being treated like a partner rather than a trophy to show off. 

-Twice: Asks you hella questions and you begin to wonder if his mental state is acting up or if he’s really not seen someone that looks like you before? Of course he’s seen plenty of people with blue eyes and ginger hair before but he hasn’t seen anyone to rival you in the attractive department before. Don’t worry because he reminds you of this everyday, but you should be prepared for an internal struggle between his personality sometimes. “Hey there beautiful-Carrot top!” Honestly if you have a sense of humor or patience, it won’t be hard to date him at all lol

-Mr. Compress: He’s smooth as hell when he first starts trying to date you. This man is going to pull the ‘magic flowers’ trick with his marble and hand them to you. “Here you are lovely Y/N. Flowers as fiery as your beautiful hair and personality.” Please tell me you laugh at his cheesy attempt but accept the flowers anyway. Aside from this, he really treats you no different than he would if you didn’t have your traits. He’s just in love with you for who you are.

-Magne: She really digs the look honestly. Her hair is more of a lighter brown but she might actually try to dye it full ginger, or give herself some streaks to see how it would turn out. “Look Y/N!” She pops her head out of the bathroom and smiles at you. “We’re twinning now.” Magne is definitely one of the more supportive S/O’s on the list when it comes to the league. She does NOT tolerate the soulless ginger jokes (unless you make them yourself). 

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

Instagram: @pastelbattydraws & @pastelbattystore

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRNMJH7vHL7APNobUykhK4w?view_as=subscriber

[demonicintegrity]

Make them swoon! Timbercats edition! aka the most valid mute gang we’ve met. 10/10 best cats, can do no wrong, I love them with all my life. I’d die for any of them in a heartbeat. they deserve all the l o v e

First up is Yumyan Hammerpaw! The legendary big softie himself.

I cannot stress enough how literally anything can be used to swoon and fluster him.

Don’t me wrong, he’s tough and all, he is the legend himself, but he’s also a big ol softie. There’s a reason he got so attached to Kipo and her friends so quickly.

The Timbercats as a whole are quite affectionate with each other, since they are the most familial bound of all the mute gangs. So getting close to him means hugs is a must.

They’re aware most other mutes/humans won’t do much more than that though. So to fluster him you’ll have to go above and beyond in some ways.

That being said, plz give him scratches and pets. It’s the one thing cats dont normally do for each other. His fav spot is behind the ears. Yes he will purr for you and yes this will make him curl up in your lap no matter how small you are. He loves scratches.

Anyone loves having another spend time with them, he’s no different. If he can find someone to chill with while he plays his axe guitar, he’ll be happy.

He’s got a soft spot for song writing, so if anyone writes him a song, he will cry and he will not be sorry about it. You will hear his love for the song for weeks on end and no, nothing will stop it.

I’m dead serious, he will not shut up about it and he will find a to bring it up two months later just to gush about it again.

Same sentiment goes for gifts. Give him something and his lip will quiver as he brings you in for the biggest bear cat-hug he can offer. He will be touched and he will voice it.

Yumyan single-handedly destroys toxic masculinity 2k20

He has his own tree house and yes he will keep each and every thing gifted to him no matter the reason. His house is full of gifts and little knick-knacks he’s found/made. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The way to this cat’s heart is through the soul. Whether it be songs, gifts, kind actions, or just simply telling him you care about him, he’ll fall for it.

I wasn’t kidding when I said he’s a real softie. He values hardwork, his fellow cats, and companionship. So if someone cares about the other cats, he cares about them, no questions asked.

Next is Molly Yarnchopper! The functional braincell of the group and farm lesbian representation.

The thing about caring about other cats with Yumyan goes here as well. Care about the cares and she’ll care about you.

She’s not as much of a hugger as the other two, but she’ll still hug. Tho she appreciates receiving hugs more than she does giving them.

While she’s sitting off on her own, just hug her. Hold her long enough and she might just finally let all the tension in her body melt away.

Hug the cat woman already. she deserves it damnnit

She’s also a work-first kind of gal, so it’s a little hard to get her to slow down and appreciate the moment/whats happening around her.

That being said, anyone who’s able to slow her down and get her to take a break is special in her eyes. It’s not just anyone that can do that with her yknow?

That means she’s a bit stubborn. She doesn’t easily stop her current task so if someone is willing to be stubborn with her she’s all ears. Seriously, put your foot down and insist she take a break. She’ll listen to you but probably not stop. Physically grab her hand and pull her away to force her to take a break, and she’ll pay attention.

She’s a strong independent cat, so she definitely admires those qualities in others. Anyone who can take charge and handle the heat earns her respect and admiration.

She’ll say she doesn’t care for scratches but she does. Her fav spot is under the chin. Yes, she will purr and yes that will embarrass her and cause her to blush but stopping will only cause her to subtly pout because scratches are reeeaaaallllyyy nice.

Tbh it probably wouldn’t take much pda to get her flustered, even purely platonically. She’s just not that super affectionate of a gal in public because she’s used to the working most of the time.

That being said, she is more open to be affectionate and soft in private. Softly singing and reading a book with someone is the perfect evening she could ever hope for.

Plz hug her

The way to this cat’s heart is through her mind. Be rational, be someone she can count on, and be someone ready to take on a challenge and she’ll adore you.

Last but not least is our fav cinnamon roll, Shoelace McCutty! They’re nonbinary and use she/they pronouns and no you cannot change my mind on that.

No thoughts, head empty, but that does not stop them from being an absolute sweetheart and caring for everyone around them. They will dive headfirst into danger if it meant helping someone they love and god help you if you get in-between them and someone she’s trying to help.

Like Yumyan, she can be easily swooned.

Care for cats and she’ll care for you applies here too. If she catches you comforting a sad cat or helping them in their time of need she instantly promotes you to the “Precious person, must protect” list.

The way to this cat’s heart is through the stomach. Make them a plate of something yummy and they’ll be your new best friends. 

Pancakes.

The only thing they love more than food being made for them is food being made with them. I’m serious, this cat is always in the kitchen trying to make some delicious. It’s not always successful but its the process they savor most. Cook with them, make crappy food puns, and put batter on their nose and it’ll be the best day ever for them.

Jokes in general are fun for her. Make her laugh and she’s yours.

Pun wars pun wars pun wars pun wars pun wars.

If your puns aren’t going to make nearby cats groan in pain youre not on their level. Git gud.

She’s very playful. Hang out with her with the intent to play and have fun and you’ll both have a blast.

Pancakes.

Play catch, play fight, tickle fight, board games, you name it, they’ll play it. Play with this cat, they just want friendship and fun in their life.

Be careful though, once it turns competitive there is no turning back. This cat does not play to loose my dude, you better have the energy to keep up.

That being said, if they do lose they’ll pout and demand a rematch. I told you there was no turning back.

Give them pets and scratches and they’ll purr like crazy. Seriously, she’s the cat to twist around and lay on her belly and be super happy to get the affection. Her fav spot is behind the neck and giving her scratches and pets will turn her day around if she was feeling sad.

Cuddle them and they’ll be the best pillow you’ll ever have.

Once you befriend them they will be 100% affectionate with you in public so if you’re not prepared, be prepared.

Giving this cat a gift or a kiss on the cheek will break them and no you will not be able to snap them out of their trance.

Give them a meaningful gift and they’ll swear you’ll never go hungry again. They also keep and display all gifts like Yumyan.

p a n - m a d e c a k e s.

[androgynousblackbox]

Where Light gets a friend (Lucky Light AU)

The AU where Light has exchanged all his braincells for luck continues.

Light *trying to follow a video tutorial about how to tie his necktie, more or less getting the hang of it until the voice of his moms takes him out of it* Sachiko: Light! We are going to get late! What is taking you so long? Light: I am going! *realizing it was a lost cause, took a pre-tied neck tie and ran downstair, only to his mom to fix the collar of his shirt and hair* Mom… Sachiko: Not a single word, Light. Today is a very important day! You are going to be giving the speech for the new freshman! You must have worked so hard for that perfect score and that deserves be celebrated! Light:… It’s not that big of a deal, mom. I mean, I am not going to be the only one standing there. Apparently some other guy also got perfect score and is going to be reading his own speech, so, really, it’s not that impressive. Sachiko: But what you are talking about? Of course it is! That other student probably worked just as hard as you, but I bet you will get the better grades at the end of the year, right, Light? Light: Sure, mom. Sayu: Aww, almost so modest, Light! So modest that you will have no problema letting your little sister be front seat! Light: Hey, I didn’t say any… She is already there. Sachiko: Don’t worry, Light. Today I will have your favourite dish prepared for dinner. Today is your day and Sayu understand that too. Light *feeling himself sick* Great. *among the other students, Light feels like wanting to ran away until he feels a hand over his shoulder and he almost jumped on his seat at the fixed stare of some pale guy with black hair, who tilted his head at his reaction. He did know him, he had see him on the examination room, but still was surprised at suddenly having sit at his side.* L: I apoligize, maybe that was too abrupt from my part. Light: No, no, it’s fine. I am just a little bit nervous, that is all. I am supose to give the speech and, well, you know.  It’s fine. L: I know. Light Yagami, son of chief of police Soichiro Yagami, perfect score out of everyone else. You helped your father years ago to stop a trafficking gang. Impressive for a young student. Light:… Thank you? I… that is a bit of an awkward introduction, huh? I am sorry, I don’t think I remember your name.

L: It’s okay, I haven’t said it *the other extended his hand to him, shaking it firmly and staring into his eyes as he pronounced the next words* I am L. Ryuk: Welp, that is new. Light *blinked a couple of times, still shaking the hand on a mechanical movement* What.

L: I am L. I would have hoped that would warrant some kind of reaction, but maybe I overstimate things. Light: No, no, I did hear you. I am just… like L-L? The L?  The detective L? That L? L: Yes. Light:…

Ryuk:…

Light: Can I get your autograph? L *this was the time for the other one to blink*… no. Light: Okay, okay, like but. Like… Oh, god, I am like… such a big fan of your work, if that is really who you really are! Like, that case on Los Angeles was so amazing, I must have read that book like four times and that is saying a lot, really! L has always been such a cool and misterious character and, like, I don’t know if you are joking or not, but actually getting to meet him would so amazing! Although that wouldn’t really make sense because why would L be here? Ryuk: He could be here to investigate you himself. Since you are a suspect and all, in case you forgot. Light: Oh… *realizing he hasn’t let go of his hand on all that time he finally released him* Sorry, I got a little too excited there. Are you really L? L: Yes. Light: Wow… The announcer: Light Yagami! Ryuk/L: They are calling you. Light: What? Oh, right, sorry!

The announcer: And the other student with the perfect score, please come to the stage, Hideki Ruyga.

Light *he instantly recognized the name, just like everyone else, when L came to give his speech while staring at a blank piece of paper* He is so cool…

Ryuk: You do know that he could find you out, right? Light *cover his mouth with his hand* I still have eyes and see he is cool. He was going to caught me sooner or later anyway. I already knew that. I just didn’t thought he was actually come to talk to me directly. Ryuk: You sound like your sister when talking about her idols. Light: Shut up.

*after the ceremony and greeting some friends, Light found L just as the man was walking to him* L/Light: Hey. L: You first. Light: Want to have something to eat? There is this really cool place nearby that has the best strawberry cake. L: Curious. I was just about to suggest you the same thing. Light: Then we should go! Do you like strawberry cake, L?

L: Yes. And would prefer if you used Ruyga Hideki, if you don’t mind.

Light: Sure, sure.  Sorry, you are right.

*on the little place, Light points at a comfortable place close to the windows and they sat to make their orders. Light can barely contain his smile as he suggest L the best cakes and teas there are* Light: I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but somehow I imagined you were taller. Wait, it does comes out wrong, right? Sorry, I just… really can’t believe that you are really here. L:… To be quite honest, I didn’t came here merely for socializing. Ligh: S-sure. Right. Of course. You are here for the Kira case, right? L: What gave you that impression? Light: Well, it doesn’t take much to deduce that since that is the case of major profile right now and both Kira and L had this whole confrontation on TV. It was… so shocking to see that guy die like that. L: Mmm. You shouldn’t feel too bad about it. That guy had murdered her wife and three daughters before being caught and send to his execution. The only reason he accepted play that role was the promise of getting a full release in case he came out alive. He never expressed any regret for what he had done. Light: Wait, really? That… that is horrible. Still… L: Mmm? Light: He shouldn’t have died like that. And he shouldn’t have let be freed either, so I don’t know. I guess you didn’t had any other choice. L: Indeed. It provided important information about the way Kira kills. Light: Oh, and that is why the fake name, right? Ryuk:… you just now realized that?

L: Yes. Kira seems to need both a name and face in order to do what he does. I still have yet to figure out the way in which he does it. Light: You probably will. Sooner or later. Ryuk: Hehe, suddenly that cake seems to have make you sick, Light. L: I think so too *ate absentmindly the cake and then stared at the plate, the fork still on his mouth* Light: Good, right? I almost wish I knew how to bake just so I could do stuff like that and see people reactions. But I would probably burn it if I don’t burn the kitchen.

L:You should still try it. A intelligent guy like yourself could manage. Then send me a piece. Light:… being good at school doesn’t mean someone is good at everything, you know. You… you are smart. Really smart. If you wanted I am sure you could do all the cakes you want, exactly how you want them. I am just… lucky, I guess? L:…

L: You are way too modest. That is unexpected of someone with your background. Light: Not really? I mean, when you think about it, knowing what some text book said or marking the right circle on a piece of a paper is not as big as, say, knowing how to make cakes people like and can enjoy. I am sorry, I am probably speaking nonsense. L:… L: If you really feel that way, then that is all the more reason to attempt to do something you do feel more satisfied with. Light: You really only want more cake, don’t you? L: … maybe. Light: Alright. I will give it a thought at least. I don’t promise anything, though. L: Mmm. Fluffy. Light: Yeah, right? L: Changing subject. I imagine you have dedícated some thought to the Kira case as well. Having your own father on the investigation team could make it difficult to ignore. Light:Sure, but I think is difficult to ignore for everyone else with how much the news talk about it.

L: Fair enough. According tothe information we have right now, what conclusión do you make? Light: About Kira? Mmm. I don’t know. More than him I don’t really like the way people are treating the whole thing, but maybe it was inevitable. L: What do you mean? Light: I mean like Sakura TV calling him Kira-sama or people getting into fights deciding if they think is right or wrong. Again, it was more likely inevitable considering nothing like this happened before.

L: People are dying. That is naturally going to open discussion among the public. Light: People were dying before and nobody made that much of a fuzz then.

Light: I-I mean, um…

L: That is probably a fair assesment too. Although the way people are dying is note worthy. What do you think about Kira yourself? I am interested in hearing your thoughts about the way he operates. Ryuk: Ooh, you are being interrogated, Light. Better not lose your composture now. Light:Mmm. Light (FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, I AM FUCKED, I AM SO FUCKED, WHAT THE FUCK DO I SAY, WHAT ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO ANSWER TO THAT, WHAT IS HE WAITING FOR ME TO SAY, DO I LIE, DO I SAY WHAT I THINK, THE FUCK DOES HE WANT, IS HE GOING TO ARREST ME NOW, WHY THE FUCK DID I OPEN MY MOUTH) L: Light? Light: I… This is probably going to sound too out there. It’s probably stupid.

L: Let’s see.

Light: Well… I am thinking about the fake L on TV. If we are to assume that L and Kira are two different entities, and not one person playing games in front of everyone, then it’s reasonable to conclude that Kira really wasn’t aware that wasn’t the real L and that L himself had nothing to do with the killing. L probably prepared it very carefully and has known for a while that the victims don’t die through any kind of poisoning or any kind of contact. The killing is always centralized. And as you said, he needs a face and a name, not just one or the other. If he is not touching them but they are still dying… Maybe there is a… uh…. Supernatural force there? There is something definitely weird about how all these criminals are dying. I don’t think it’s possible we will never understand his way of killing by normal means, and so try to capture him through that deduction is probably fruiltless. L:…

Ryuk: You have been reading the conspiracy theories forums about Kira again, didn’t you, Light? Light (SHUT THE FUCK UP, I DON’T KNOW WHAT I AM DOING HERE)

L: That… makes sense. Light: It… it does? Ryuk: User KiraIsGood69 will be happy to hear. L: You are right, we have examined the bodes of many of the victims of Kira and found no trace of physical handling. Not to mention that the distance between the deaths and timing makes it impossible for one person to be present during for each of them. I am not really still at the point of thinking all rational explanations are off, but if the way Kira kill is so unique to him it’s not impossible to believe it’s a hability only him posses. Do you think Kira is human? Maybe a god like some have said? Light: Of course not. A god wouldn’t have made that mistake on TV. Besides, a god doesn’t really care about human lives. To them they are all the same, good or bad. Ryuk: Why are you looking at me? L: So it’s a human with a supernatural hability according to this theory. Inborn or given? Light (Wait, did I say a bad thing?) In-inborn, maybe? Because… if it was given, why Kira, right? What makes him so especial something would want to give him that skill? (Because a dumbass shinigami was bored and you were the idiot who caught the notebook, that is why).

L: Mmm. It’s a line of thinking, I suppose. But if he is human, as we both agreed on, then he can make mistakes and it can be stopped. What do you think about the times of death? Light: Well, they don’t happen all the time, obviously. Kira still has to eat and sleep. I haven’t followed on every case, but probably will get something out of seeing what could correspond with the times of death. L: Already tried that. We came to a conclusion that very quickly Kira turned down himself. How do you think that happened? Light:…

Light (Fuck): He… must have access to the investigation. How… horrible to think about. I hope no one that didn’t do anything ends up getting branded as a suspect *he put his hands on his lap when realized he could start shaking. L just then was talking with the waiter to ask her for another piece of cake for taking* L: We have a few names but I would say there is barely any porcentage of certainty right now. Light (don’t open your mouth, don’t open your mouth, don’t…) Am I a suspect?

L: You have a terrible concerned face right now, Light. You don’t have to get worried. We are still doing our investigation and whoever Kira is, we will catch him regardless. I won’t put anyone scrutiny unless I think there is a good reason for it.

Light: So yes. L:Yes, to put it briefly. Light:… well, makes sense. Can I ask something, though? L: Of course. Light: What will happen to Kira when he is captured? L: Once I gain definite proof of who he is and knows how he kills, I will make sure he is send to execution without any press ever releasing his name. With any luck he will forgotten by the general public and by the internet eventually. Die in complete anonymity, like Lyndon should have done. Light (That… is actually not that bad. If only that anonymity was extended to one’s family…) I see. It’s fair. L: Agreed. *he grabbed the box that the waiter brought for him and payed her* Well, was nice talking to you, Light. Hope to see you around the campus and maybe go to another place like this one if you happened to find it. Light: Really? Yeah! That sounds fun. Ryuk: And now you look like a happy puppy right after talking about your own execution.

L *nods and then walks outside as Light finishes his own cake, wondering what restaurants with good cakes he heard about* *late at night, Light walks with Ryuk behind, thinking. On his room again, and after Ryuk confirmed there weren’t more bugs, he sat on his bed as he throws Ryuk a new Apple he had bought on the way* Light: Ryuk. A question. Or two. I am sure yet. . Ryuk: Sure, sure, shoot it out.

Light: What happens if I want an out? If I don’t want to do this anymore? Ryuk: Well, you always can. Just give up the Death Note. But that would be kinda unfair for me, now that it was starting to get interesting. Light: So you will kill me? Ryuk: Mmmm. Probably. You told me to do it as soon your luck ran out. Did it? Light: No, but like… I just now I am realizing that when it does, it won’t just be me. If all happens behind doors I can imagine that papa won’t want to tell mom or Sayu what happened to me, but him… Fuck, why didn’t I think of that before? If I die now then I am still just Light Yagami, his son. Maybe it’s for the better. Ryuk:… Well, I can’t force you to change your mind. Are you sure? Light *nods* Ryuk: Say it then. Light *opened up his mouth when suddenly the voice of his mom cut him off* Sachiko: Light! A girl is looking for you! Light: Isn’t a little late…? *he comes down, to find a girl standing on the entrance, waving at him* Girl: I brought your notebook from today, Light! Hope you don’t mind the hour! *she pushed a black notebook to him and he took it without thinking, thinking he didn’t had any black notebook like that one before he looked up to a new Shinigami* Light: I-I-I.. thank you! Yep, very nice of you! *he closed the door, knowing Sayu and his mom were listening and walked to the girl a bit more, still whispering just in case* This is a Death Note. Girl: Yes! My name is Misa Amane and the shinigami that you see with me is Rem. You have no idea how long I have been waiting to meet you!

[thebibliomancer]

Song of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 10

Song of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because DON’T TRUST WHO??

Last times in book: Kylan, Naia, Tavra, and Gurjin are on their way to Aughra’s High Hill to enlist her help in warning all Gelfling of the Skeksis’ drinking problem. I.e. they like to drink people. On the way up the hill, Kylan spots some dream-etching in a spider nest that says DO NOT TRUST HER. Vaguely ominous!

Chapter 10

Naia talks to some more plants. The party meets Aughra. Ha ha.

Aughra’s High Hill was not casually named. Within the mountainous forest, it was the highest point in all the land, near where the Black River originated, closest to the suns and moons and stars. Not a high hill, but the High Hill.

Good reason for it to be named like that then.

‘Aughra lives on the high hill’ ‘Oh, which one?’ ‘I don’t think you understand. When I say the high hill i mean THE high hill.’

Anyway, after all that stuff about reading writing under a spider web, Tavra doesn’t even care enough to ask. Gurjin does but Naia just tells him they’re not sure what it meant.

With Naia spending time chatting with Gurjin, it leaves Kylan nothing to do but think which he decides is his role.

If that was his job in all of this, then he would gladly take on the burden.

Its a lonely job possessing the sole pair of braincells to rub together ha ha (just joshing obvs)

Kylan thinks about that mysterious DO NOT TRUST HER message but he can’t really get anywhere on that ponderation so instead decides to ask Tavra what she meant when she said spiders hate Gelfling.

“Spiders hate Gelfling... All Vapra know this.”

“They hate us? All of them?”

“Oh yes. From the death-stingers to the crystal-singers.”

This was news to Kylan, though on reflection he’d never had a conversation with any spider before. The idea that an entire race might loathe his own was discomfiting. He wasn’t even sure what a crystal-singer spider was.

He asks why spiders hate Gelfling but Tavra just tells him to ask the next time he sees a spider. Which is a weird answer.

So I’ve changed my suspicion for what’s up with Tavra from ‘something something Skeksis’ to ‘something something Skeksis but definitely think she’s Spider-Tavra.’

I think the books and the show are following at least the same vague outline so I figure with all the opinions she has on spiders all of a sudden, she might be being controlled by one.

Later, Tavra tells the group they’ll reach Aughra’s by evening and asks if they’ve prepared what they’re going to say to her.

“I plan to tell her the situation and see if she has advice. Is there more to it than that?”

“You’re about to speak to Mother Aughra, the Ram-Horned. The mouth of Thra. She was born of the world, both child and mother. She has seen Thra before the Gelfling were but sprouts in the garden of all creatures. You would speak to her so casually?”

“I’ll speak to her like I’d speak to anyone else,” Naia said. “With respect -- if she deserves it.”

God, Naia is great. Its that Drenchen upbringing. The hard-talk. Just cut right to the point.

Gurjin points out that Aughra probably respects hard-talk since it’s the language of the natural world.

Which I kinda see? As a point?

Tavra just shakes her head at this but doesn’t really object. She doesn’t even want to be here so at best she’s disappointed on principle.

Kylan, almost passive protagonist but definitely a socially withdrawing protagonist that he is, doesn’t add to the conversation. Just thinks anxious thoughts.

Aughra was said to be wise, to know all things -- but as Tavra had said, she might already know about the Skeksis. Worse, she might already know and yet have done nothing. The Gelfling were her favored children, as their lore sang time and time again, but those songs had been written by the Gelfling. Did Aughra think of the Gelfing as much as any flower in her garden? Would she be equally content to see one creature devour another, if it, too, were part of the circle of life?

Its an interesting idea there about the Gelfling being her favored children, according to Gelfling. Like, oh geez what if we overestimated ourselves?

(Although the minor good point to add to this anxiety ramble is that the Skeksis aren’t part of the natural order. So there’s that.)

Gurjin also thanks Kylan for keeping Naia company and helping her in the woods during that whole Gurjin heroic sacrifice thing.

Kylan: “I’m glad you’re alive. I’m glad we all are.”

Aw, friends.

They reach the finger vines as mentioned in Rian’s warning.

Thick orange vines covered the cliff wall in front of them, finger-shaped and tangled like rope that had been left too long to its own devices. No further pathways led deeper into the crag, but Kylan could feel a draft coming from behind the vines. There was a tunnel there but they would have to pass through the overgrowth, and if one part of Rian’s instructions had stayed with Kylan, it was to stay away from the finger-vines.

Tavra hucks a rock into the vines and they immediately tangle about it before dropping it as inedible.

So, I’m pretty sure that these are the same vines that Jen will eventually blunder into. It’s not his fault, he didn’t have a helpful Rian in his life.

I wonder how long the vines take to eat something. Jen is lucky that Aughra was literally right around the corner when he got caught.

I’m honestly a bit surprised that finger-vines are a specific predatory plant and not just. Something Aughra set up to discourage solicitors.

Oh my god, I’m once again blown away by Jen going to visit Aughra in his quest without any idea of her significance. The UrRu never even told him that (for all practical purposes) god lived a day down the road.

I’m sure they did their best but wow. He has holes in his education.

I’m getting off-track.

Naia tries calling for Aughra through the vines but this time she’s not lurking right around the corner so that doesn’t work.

Tavra was unimpressed and unsurprised, almost smug at the situation.

I’m glad that you’re probably a spider, Tavra, because you are being a bummer.

She again calls this whole trip a waste of time which annoys Naia into wing flicking. Love the wing body language but now I’m wondering what specific muscles correspond to that. I guess if your back stiffens... yeah, that makes sense.

Anyway, Naia is so annoyed that she decides to dreamfast with a plant again. She just goes and puts her hands on the vines and instead of entangling her, they do not do that.

Kylan had learned the language of the Landstriders, as all Spriton did. Tavra had certainly learned the tongue of other creatures as well, in her training to serve the All-Maudra. But those were languages spoken on the tongue, in sets of words and phrases. Naia’s unique ability to dreamfast with creatures other than Gelfling let her speak in the universal song of the heart.

This is neat!

It expands on Kira’s beastmastery. At least in the novelization, it’s mentioned during Jen and Kira’s dreamfast that Kira’s podmom Ydra taught her the language of animals.

And apparently it used to be a thing for some Gelfling to learn. But not as much as Kira! Ydra knew a lot!

Anyway, after dreamfasting with a plant again, the vines open like a curtain to let the four Gelfling (or four Gelfling and a spider??) enter.

At the end of the tunnel they find a door to Aughra’s Sweet Orrery.

(Just imagine the Dark Crystal theme in your head)

Most impressive was the enormous moving contraption that occupied the center of the chamber. It filled the space of the room with dozens of huge spheres, mounted on poles and swooping arms. The machine rotated and gyrated like a living thing, spheres orbiting spheres, circling yet other spheres, all of it shining in bronze, copper, iron, and glistening stones. Clearly, the grating sounds emanated from the machine, and the movement of its pieces stirred the air so it felt as though there were a breeze, even inside the crystal dome.

“Amazing,” Kylan breathed.

He recognized some of the symbols etched deep into the metals: the symbols that represented the Three Brothers, others that represented the elements of the earth and water, air and fire.

“Its the path of the stars,” he said. “The suns, and...”

Then Aughra pops up from behind a book tower.

And she is amazing.

“What, you just gonna stare? Walk right into my home just to stare, did you? Maybe you should draw a picture, take it with you!”

This is exactly the kind of Aughra I was hoping for.

Also, the way she speaks the Gelfling language (the single Gelfling language that exists I guess?) with what sounds like an ancient accent to Kylan. Although I’m not sure how he would know, I’d bet he’s right.

Naia takes the lead and tells Aughra that they’re here to ask for her help, calling her Mother Aughra.

“Mother Aughra, eh? Ask for my help, eh? Why is it you Gelfing only call Aughra Mother when you need help? That’s what children do, I guess... I guess that’s what they do.”

‘You never call, you never write’ hahaha

This is quality Aughra content.

With her grump helpfully communicated, she takes note of the party and grumps some more, noting that they only have a Spriton, a Vapra, and a Drenchen.

“Hmph. Three out of seven ain’t bad. It’s still soon. Where are the others?”

And when they don’t have any idea what she means:

“What others, he asks? What others? The other clans, of course! Gelfling gathering. What else is there to know?”

Its like when you arrive to the final dungeon without a full party and the NPC is like ‘lol no go hit some more plot flags’

Aughra sat heavily on her table stool, as if hoping they might go away if she ignored them long enough.

I don’t know how many ways I can say how great this is.

I’m living for it. Unlike Jen, these Gelfling know that Aughra isn’t some random grumpy mountain woman. She’s basically god and she’s behaving like a cranky grandmother. Kylan can’t even warp his head around how different from his expectations this is turning out to be.

I also guess it answers in this continuity whether Aughra was so grumpy in the movie because she’d lost much of her hope after the Gelfling were all but wiped out. It turns out: no, she’s Just Like That.

When a thousand ++ trine you reach, be so nice you will not.

But since they don’t just leave, Aughra decides she will say more things.

“Come on, then, Gelfling. Children. Aughra already knows what you want to know. Whether it’s what you want to hear, though, hmph! Might not be.”

Oh, this sidequest is shaping up beautifully.

J.M. Lee, you have done a marvelous job.

[aforrestofstuff]

What do you think the OPM characters' guilty pleasures would be? I feel like Tatsu loves soap operas and Atomic Samurai secretly loves a really popular boy band, like SMAP

Thanks for your request, anon! Sorry this took me so long to get to, you were buried in my inbox lol. But I hope this was worth the wait because oh boy this required all 3 of my brain cells.

Tornado of Terror: As you said, soap operas. She also loves candy apples in canon. But...she also is a HUGE fan of those really cheesy Cosmopolitan magazines that have all of the personality quizzes and the “which hot male celeb would date you” scenarios. She doesn’t fall for it one bit. In fact, she hate reads those fuckers in the same way that people pay to go see bad movies. It’s fun.

Silverfang: Yoga and following along to some cheesy-ass 80s workout videos. I’ve said he likes yoga in a previous headcanon, but he also likes to exercise along to some obnoxious 80s pop while some dude in a leotard instructs him on what to do from a TV screen. He wears sweatbands and legwarmers, too. The whole shebang. He only does it when he’s alone, though. Sometimes he’ll try to teach yoga to his disciples as a way to help them decompress after a long training session, but his workout tapes are his best-kept secret.

Atomic Samurai: I don’t know what a SMAP is, but he’s definitely got some questionable music choices going on considering he’s... well, the way that he is. I’d say he likes to listen to old country, like Marty Robbins and Glen Campbell. It’s really funny because you’ve got this intimidating man from Japan (or a fictional universe basically set in Japan) with a badass katana and shit but inside that empty head of his, there’s just a faint “out in the west Texas town of El Paso....”

Child Emperor: Picking at scabs. He’s often on his knees fixing shit in his lab, and he probably gets burned all the damn time from playing around with lasers so he’s undoubtedly always has a wound healing somewhere. Whenever he’s working on something, he’ll just absentmindedly pick at his scabs. It’s a bad habit and he knows it, but nothing beats the feeling of peeling off an entire patch of that shit. So satisfying.

Metal Knight: Buying books. He doesn’t even read them. He just buys bigass novels with smart-sounding names to fill up his library because he thinks it’ll make his dick grow another three inches or some shit. One of the few things he likes in this world (besides homicide) is the smell of a new book. If he’s feeling particularly pissy, he’ll go into his library and just ssssssnnnnnnnnnniififfffffffffff. He spends an outrageous amount of money on it. If he has anyone over (which is unlikely, but hypothetically speaking) and they mention his library by asking something like “have you read all of these?” It’ll be one of the few times in his life that he’ll feel shame.

King: Reading and writing fanfiction based on his favorite video game/anime series. Nobody knows he does this except his small following online, of course. And even more so, nobody online knows he’s an ultra-popular S-Class hero who’s friends with the most powerful man on earth. He’s actually a pretty decent writer, he just doesn’t take himself too seriously so the plotline to his stories tend to get a little haywire and overly self-indulgent. Let him have his fun. He just wants to be a Sailor Scout.

Zombieman: Singing. He actually used to be a good singer (he sounded like a discount Steve Perry back in the day), but constant smoking really fucked up his voice. He might as well have lungs the size of grapes because he can’t carry a note for more than 2 seconds without wheezing like an accordion with asthma. He’s never sang in front of anyone before because he thinks it’s silly thing that isn’t worth showing off. Play anything from The Eagles though, and he’ll have a hard time resisting.

Drive Knight: He likes to open up panels in his arms and legs to play with the wires (basically a robot’s version of nerve endings, I’m assuming) just so he can feel something. It’s kind of sad because he doesn’t experience pain or the cold or being tickled... (I know what y’all are thinking and you’d better STOP). So he sometimes takes it upon himself to dick around with his insides and dip his toe into what it feels like to be human, even if it’s just for a little bit. He’s super secretive about it (he’s just secretive about everything, really) because he doesn’t want anyone to know that he desires something outside of being a weapon of mass destruction justice.

Pig God: His whole schtick is basically indulging in a guilty pleasure — pigging out on delicious food with no regard whatsoever for one’s overall health. Other than that, however, he does like to collect body pillows. There, I said it. All he fucking does is eat and he’s too much of a big boi to be going out 24/7, so he’s gotta be on the internet/watching anime/playing video games/reading manga during all of that downtime between his stints of doing hero work. His bed is fucking ginormous to handle all of that big boy-ness and on it, he has his body pillow nest. He rests on a throne made for kings. A true icon.

Superalloy Darkshine: Also working out along to some cheesy 80s exercise videos. His hero outfit was inspired from what those ravishing instructors would wear on the television. Well, it was supposed to be a full leotard but it ripped every time he flexed just a tiny bit so the speedo is the only thing that’s left. He’s gotta hella rhythm and keeps up with the music using little to no effort. Although, he can’t go too hard because he’s also a big boi and he’ll literally shake the entire building if he gets too turnt up. Dance muscle boy, dance.

Watchdog Man: Eating too many dog treats lol. Sometimes while he’s stationed on his little podium thing, visitors will leave him little offerings like dog treats and other miscellaneous food items/toys. He never takes them or eats them in front of people, but he often brings everything home with him after a long day just to gobble that shit up. He’s gained a little weight since he started doing it but you can’t even notice it because his suit is hella bulky. Some of it is due in part to stress-eating because being a dog and dude at the same time is hectic, but it’s honest work.

Flashy Flash: Racing shit. Whenever he’s on his travels during, say, assassination missions or hero work, he gets hella bored really quickly. So, to help with this, he’ll often race birds or planes flying in the sky on his way to his destination to see who’s quicker (it’s always him). Sometimes he’ll even play catch with himself by throwing a pine cone or something and running to the place he guesses it’ll land before it even touches the ground. He just does a ton of weird speedster shit whenever he’s bored and he’ll deny it if anyone asks.

Genos: Purposefully putting a little bit too much oil on his joints after each upgrade so he’ll be as slick as a salamander. It’s a really funny feeling to be able to move your limbs with little to no resistance without having to worry about popping or breaking anything. It just makes him feel so agile despite being like, a hunk of actual metal. If he wasn’t so uptight, he would loosen the screws in his fingers to he can bend them almost all the way back (he’s actually thought about it a few times), but both Dr. Kuseno and his 3 remaining braincells attested to that. He just likes to tinker around with his body and see what weird shit he can do. It’s a bad habit because it’s led to a few things being broken on multiple occasions.

Metal Bat: Zenko’s shitty pop music. Whenever he drops her off at school or piano practice, he’ll immediately go home and blast that shit on full volume (because he’s practically deaf from always jumping out of falling buildings and continuously blasting music in his earbuds) while doing chores and the like. He’s one of those people that HAVE to have something going on in the background as they’re getting shit done. He’d rather be caught dead than listening to the OPM equivalent of Taylor Swift because he knows Zenko would never let him live it down.

Tanktop Master: Wearing suits around the house when he’s not even going anywhere. He’s got to wear his tanktop 24/7 whenever he’s in public to keep up The Image (which he has no problem with, he genuinely loves the tanktop ideology) but he also needs to feel fancy every once and a while. So, if he happens to have the time while in between appearances, he’ll prance around in a suit tailored just for him. Because he’s so fucking huge that he had to pay someone a large sum to custom make an outfit that actually fits. He is 7-motherfucking-feet tall. 7.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: Making Valentine’s Day cards all times of the year. Listen, it gets boring as hell in prison. Sometimes the guards will let all of the inmates have a little glitter and glue to keep themselves busy because no harm can come of a little arts and crafts, right? He likes to make cards on the daily just to let all of his lovers know how much he appreciates them. If they express even the slightest amount of disdain for his creations, he’ll spent the next week crying in the darkest corner of his cell block. He also likes origami. Origami is huge in prison because it’s hella time-consuming and guaranteed to calm a busy mind. His favorite things to make are little unicorns.

Amai Mask: Bath bombs. There have been several mishaps in which he’s used a poorly-made bath bomb and came out of the tub looking like Shrek but he’s grown and lot since then, okay? After a long day or a particularly stressful concert, he’ll sink into some hot water and drop a ball of lavender-scented goodness in there. It’s become a bit of an addiction because he’s got multiple cabinets dedicated solely to his collection, but at least he always smells divine.

Iaian: Shakespearean dramas. Kama got him hooked on theater shit and he’s since ripped through all of the most well-known plays. He thinks in iambic pentameter. It wasn’t always noticeable since he’s a quiet, well-reserved guy but his fellow disciples and Kami have recently noticed that he’s developed a bit of a dramatic flair. Even worse, he’s started calling himself a knight whenever he puts on his armor. Everyone prays it’s just a phase but seeing as how stubborn Iaian is, that seeks highly unlikely. Kami is dying inside because he can’t handle another drama nerd.

Okamaitachi: Soap operas, like Tatsumaki. Kama is the most dramatic out of all of the disciples so it’s only natural that she’d like the most dramatic genre of any show out there. She doesn’t exactly watch them religiously though. She’s the type of viewer to drop off the face of the earth for three seasons and come back without knowing what the fuck is going on (because the disciples have limited access to cable due to Kami’s dumbassery and ignorance to anything technology-related), but still cry during the finale anyway because oh no these people are so hot and one of them is deaaaaaad and the other one is that person’s long-lost sister....

Bushidrill: Taking alcohol from Atomic Samurai’s stash every so often. Bushidrill knows what the good shit is and he could buy it himself if he wanted to, but why would he when there’s a perfectly good alcoholic to steal from living right down the hall? He only takes in small doses because, believe it or not—he’s smart, but Kami isn’t gonna notice regardless of whether or not Bushi takes 1 or 5 bottles at a time because the old shit couldn’t spot a purple raccoon if it was 3 feet in front of him. There have been times where Bushi has opened bottles of Kami’s alcohol right in front of him just to play God and he always, without missing a beat, says “Oh, we have the same taste. How neat.”

Fubuki: I’ve said this before in a previous headcanon, but she has a mild obsession with Victorian aesthetic. She’s got a small collection of semi-authentic ballgowns that cost upwards of a-fuckton-of-money each, but anything’s worth it to be able to play dress-up with Lily. Fubuki’s favorite thing is making Lily feel beautiful because everyone has been an insecure teenager at one point and she knows how it feels to not be comfortable in one’s own skin. This isn’t exactly a guilty pleasure because she’s not guilty about it, but it’s almost gotten to a point where an intervention is needed. She’s got so many damn dresses and sooooo much fine china....

Saitama: Retail therapy, lol. Saitama is only good at budgeting because he has no choice given how fucking poor he is, but give this boy even a little bit of leeway and he’ll buy the ugliest clothes (to which he thinks look poppin’) and the best meats without even batting an eye. His entire manga collection is the product of him having little to no self control the moment he realizes he’s got a bit of money to spend on himself. This is also the only time he’ll experiment with cooking because now he can actually afford to fuck up, literally.

Mumen Rider: Sweets! I’ve said this in a previous hc but he has a major sweet tooth. You can substitute salt for sugar in any given recipe and he’ll see it as a major improvement because he just goes absolutely buckwild for anything sweet. His pancreas is suffering, but he believes nothing feels better than curling up under the covers on a rainy day with a heaping helping of milk chocolate. The only thing that makes him feel better after getting beat to shit is a kiss on the cheek and box of his favorite cookies (and some bananas, lol).

Sonic: Like Flash, he also likes racing things. But, in addition to that, his guilty pleasure is doing his own hair in elaborate hairstyles (when it was longer). He’s pretty much homeless so he’s got a lot of time to himself in between murders. This is when you can find him sitting in the woods somewhere braiding flowers into his hair and tying it off with a moss ribbon. He’d never admit he does this because he’s a big macho man and he’d probably cry.

Garou: Spicy chips. I’ve said this before in a previous hc, but he absolutely inhales his food without even tasting it half the time so it’s not even like he gets to enjoy the flavor that much. He just likes the burn because he’s a shithead. He also doesn’t fear death or a torn-up asshole, so he’ll eat an entire family-sized bag of the OPM-universe equivalent to Takis without even batting an eye. He’s been beat to shit so many times that the agony that comes with downing so much spice is lost on him. He doesn’t even need water. It’s insane. Someone stop this madman at once.

[listless-brainrot]

do u have any jet headcanons?? :0 or any freedom fighter stuff in general

ALSO i rly love your blog btw ksfksksk

ALSO ALSO a small jet for ur consideration:

thank you for this BLESSED small jet i accept him with open arms.

i will now return the favor with a LOT of headcanons for both jet and the freedom fighters. like a LOT a lot

and tysm!! i really like your blog too, you seem really cool!!

Jet

-practically Exudes dad/eldest sibling energy. good at being one too

-has a way with kids that confuses others sometimes. in that “knows just what to say to calm a crying kid down” way you know

-his “cool teenager” attitude??? 100% a front. he simply acts this way because he knows he’s got people lookin up to him

-due to his paranoia, when he gets anxious, he often picks at his own sleeves, hence why they’re so ripped. this is also why he chews on his stick/wheat. chronic but subtle fidgeter

-he can’t... read. he can only read some parts of script. this leads to many absurd misinterpretations when things are written down

-extremely crafty and clever!! built his own freakin’ base in the trees!! i like to think that he whittles and carves in his spare time

-often whistles while he works, and since it’s shown that the whistling is a code in canon, probably uses it to secretly talk shit with the freedom fighters lmao

-if you hear a bunch of birdcalls in his forest at night, it’s not because it’s mating season. it’s tea.

-personally i hc him as red-green colorblind. this is The only explanation for the way he dresses. that and also i’d like to imagine that he genuinely doesn’t realize he’s Not wearing brown

-i think he used to have siblings. i don’t like to think about it too hard.

Smellerbee

-can be extremely snappish, but everyone agrees that she’s one of the kindest in the group

-has a sisterly relationship with jet and genuinely looks up to and admires him, there’s a reason why their hair looks pretty similar

-extremely skilled with a knife to the point where, sometimes, that’s all she needs to take soldiers down

-has the braincell of the group most of the time. no she will not share it. go get your own

-the other freedom fighters affectionately call her “badgercoon”. started putting paint on her face to officially live up to it

-she has a birthmark under her bandana! i like to think that it’s heart shaped. only longshot and jet know it’s there

-she says trans rights! when she came out, the other freedom fighters were really supportive once she explained, and she’s been proudly herself since

-is pretty much an older sister to the duke, which was a role she initially didn’t want, until she spent enough time with him to learn that, yeah, he’s a cool little dude

-totally did not teach the duke how to use a knife. absolutely did not do this. sure! pin the knife thing on the knife girl!

-the headband is from her mom. the scrap tied around her arm is actually a part of longshot’s shawl.

Longshot

-selective mute and possibly on the spectrum, only comfortable with talking minimally, even around the freedom fighters

-which is cool, they’ve found that he speaks volumes with his face alone and all have their own little ways of figuring out what he’s saying

-is it cliche to think that he’s the strong silent type with a soft side? perhaps. but this is what i think he is

-he was one of the first freedom fighters jet found, and the two have been extremely close ever since. smellerbee was the second

-archery skills are extremely precise to the point where it could be comparable with the yuyan archers!! the kid is EXTREMELY talented

-so quiet to the point where people often don’t realize he’s in the room. he absolutely uses this to his advantage

-going off of that, he turns up in THE weirdest places. no one can explain it. he was in his hut one moment and is at the top of the tallest tree the next. everyone Hates playing hide n seek with him

-best friends with smellerbee; both often work together as a team on missions, with her close range fighting style and his long range one going hand in hand

-his favorite food is sticky buns!! they stole some during a raid and he’s been secretly craving them since

-the hat doesn’t have any special meaning to him, he’s said before. it’s practical, just like him. though, he’s never been seen without it.

Pipsqueak

-we don’t see much of him but he seems such like a neat, big hearted guy!

-i don’t know how old he is and i’m too afraid to ask. but i’d like to think that even if he’s older than the rest, he gets along well with these kids either way

-his laugh is extremely infectious, even if he does have a tendency to laugh at pretty much everything

-helped with a majority of the base construction, using his strength to carry the wood high up and hold it all together

-maybe he was an ex-earth rumble fighter?? i’m not sure how that would work but he’s certainly got the strength for it

-all the freedom fighters were at least a little scared of him at first, but quickly warmed up to him

-is actually a pretty good cook!! everyone looks forward to when it’s his turn to make dinner (on the contrary. smellerbee, unfortunately, cannot)

-has a strong relationship with the duke, and he’s always lookin out for the little guy, making sure he’s staying in check and not getting too outta hand

-the duke thinks that pipsqeak is one of the coolest guys around (bar jet) and will find any and all excuses to sit on his shoulders. he likes to feel tall!!

-doesn’t remember much about his village or where he came from. joining the freedom fighters gave him a sense of identity again.

The Duke

-due to being the youngest in the group, all the freedom fighters are extremely protective of him

-also due to being the youngest in the group, he’s not the biggest fan of this treatment, and alternates between taking advantage of it and despising it

-no one taught him how to fight like that. he just started dropping from the trees to attack outta nowhere. everyone just kind of went with it

-for the love of god don’t let him around candy. he will NOT calm down for DAYS. jet learned this the hard way

-often tires out easily and can be found napping in various places around the base; the only time he doesn’t nap is when he’s on patrol, and even Then

-only jet and pipsqueak can call him “duke”. the The is very important to him and if you just call him duke he gets mad

-he and smellerbee used to not get along much, with smellerbee insisting she’s no babysitter and the duke insisting that he doesn’t need to be babysat

-now though they get along really well, and they totally don’t mess with the other freedom fighters. pranking?? absolutely not. they’re innocent!

-likes to draw!! they don’t have a lot of paper or brushes, but one time they stole a calligraphy set and the duke proceeded to use it all up in one sitting (his paintings are now hanging in the freedom fighters’ respective huts)

-he found the helmet during a raid once and begged the rest of the group to let him keep it. he’s been wearing it since! both longshot and him bond over important hats

Sneers

-i don’t like him. he had an uncle he could’ve been staying with this whole time and instead freeloaded with a bunch of homeless kids til it wasn’t convenient for him. he gets no headcanons.

General HCs

-all those funny sounding names the freedom fighters have? those were little nicknames once. they were the ones who chose to keep them

-the definition of found family, and will do anything and everything to protect it and their home

-when jet destroys gaipan, the duke and pipsqueak becoming so disillusioned with him and leaving, along with other kids, upset jet for weeks

-them leaving was one of the first things that encouraged him to leave for ba sing se

-he was going to go alone, leaving smellerbee and longshot in charge, but they join him later on, not wanting him to face this alone

-all the other kids who are left can take care of themselves, but that doesn’t mean he’s got to

-despite initially protesting, jet lets them come along, internally glad that he isn’t facing this alone

-though they’re all lost and barely have a clue on what to even do, they settle on ba sing se; the most important thing for them is to be somewhere else that the fire nation can’t reach. this way, they can heal properly

-they heard “impenetrable great wall” and thought that would be absolutely perfect for them!

-

-

-they miss him.

-a lot.

[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.

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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!”

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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.

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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.)