#woah i have six ocs?? weird

[ithinkyouhealedmyheart]

Ghostwriter CH 19

Unbetad Unedited Unhinged || AO3 Wattpad

Character(s): Kendall Knight, James Diamond, Carlos Garcia, Logan Mitchell, Gustavo Rocque, Kelly Wainwright, Mrs. Knight, Katie Knight, Veronica Clark oc, James Clark oc

Pairing(s): Kendall Knight/Veronica Clark, James Diamond & Kendall Knight & Carlos Garcia & Logan Mitchell, James Diamond & Veronica Clark

“Woah, dude, check out all the people at the pool.” 

Kevin and his guitar joined the two girls sitting by the unlit bonfire in the back corner. For her birthday, James gave the songwriter a leatherbound journal to replace her notebook, running out of space. Unlike her laptop, the brown leather journal had space on the cover, which she could fill with stickers. Ronnie’s nose was buried in her songbook. Griffin needed Big Time Rush’s second album in three weeks, and the only songs they had were Paralyzed, Invisible, and If I Ruled the World. She was sure that an album had to be more than six songs and over thirty minutes long. Together, the three songs were nine minutes and twenty-four seconds. 

“I know, I can’t hear myself think.” Ronnie groaned. 

“It can be that bad,” Lucy kicked her feet up on the unlit bonfire. It was safe since there was no fire burning. She was munching on a bag of cheese doodles. 

“I have three weeks to help Gustavo finish Big Time Rush’s second album, and we only have three songs.” 

“There’s no point in stressing yourself out. You’ll panic even more.” Lucy shrugged and tilted her bag of snacks toward the green-haired girl. “Cheese doodles?” 

“No, thank you.” Ronnie scrunched her face in disgust. 

“Suit yourself,” 

“Dawg, you’re going about this all wrong. You can’t force yourself to write a song,” Kevin said, sitting between them and placing his guitar in his lap. “If it helps, we can start a jam session.” 

“We don’t have to. All I have to do is buckle down and–” 

Kevin strummed a chord on his guitar and grinned. His sunglasses slid down his nose. Ronnie didn’t feel the greatest about being interrupted, but she let it slide because he was one of her friends and genuinely wanted to help. As much as Ronnie wanted to feel alone with this new album for BTR, considering the boys didn’t want to help her at all and would rather waste time or try to establish their popularity with the new kids at the Palm Woods, at least she had her friends to fall back on. Even if she couldn’t write a song each day, she could at least have a concept to build off of. 

“I think a jam session is the perfect idea to get the ball rolling,” Lucy noisily closed the bag and put it beside her. 

“I can’t focus with all this noise–” 

“Ronnie, you can’t focus because you’re forcing yourself too hard.” Kevin chidded. He was unimpressed by her attempts to get away. “We’re here to help, I promise.” 

The songwriter groaned and put her head between her knees. She was wearing the blue sweatshirt that Kendall gifted her. Ronnie wasn’t an idiot; she knew it smelled like him, but that could be because they spent time together. It was almost suspicious how much it smelled like him. It was weird she even knew what he smelled like. Does ice even have a scent? It clung to the fabric and surrounded her like smoke. It didn’t help that there was so much pressure on her to help Gustavo finish an album in three weeks. Was this what it was like to work for Griffin? She couldn’t imagine working for him as an adult, but maybe it would be easier when she didn’t have to deal with school on top of music. 

“Guys,” Ronnie picked her head up and rubbed at her eyes. “I appreciate how much you want to help, but I don’t think you can.” 

“And how do you know that?” Lucy raised a brow. “I bet you have nothing written down,” 

Ronnie tucked her new songbook against her chest. It didn’t help that Lucy was correct, but there was no way the songwriter would ever admit that. 

“Okay, but I doubt it would help… We’d just be mashing random notes together.” 

“That’s what music is, right?” Kevin chuckled and twisted the tuning pegs on his guitar. “Even if it’s random, it’ll sound better with friends.” 

“Yeah!” Lucy’s face lit up. “Music always sounds better with friends.” 

“Music sounds better…” Ronnie’s eyes widened. “Everything’s better with friends,” she started scribbling words onto the blank page of her songbook. “Okay, start playing.” She looked at Kevin expectantly. 

“You got it, dawg.” Kevin smiled lazily and began to play at random. The notes may not have made sense, but he intentionally fooled around. One of the notes or tunes was bound to stick. 

Lucy bobbed her head, attempting to follow the rhythm. Hesitantly, she drummed her hands against the stone bench they were sitting on. It was a basic flow, mainly to keep time with Kevin’s guitar, but something was tugging at the back of her mind. Ronnie tied her hair up and tucked it from the ponytail behind her ears. She was laser-focused, muttering words that neither of her friends could understand. Her pen scratching across the paper stopped, and she reached into her backpack for her laptop. Ronnie was impatient for it to boot up, but she had this rhythm on loop in her head that she needed to get into her digital workspace. Kevin and Lucy exchanged hopeful looks. 

She dragged and dropped the snare drum with her cursor in certain places. The tempo was at the forefront of her brain; it had a simple quarter-note feel. It transitioned into a shuffle, but Ronnie wasn’t confident it was the right beat—or it might not be in the right tempo. Messing around with the digital workspace, she messed with the metronome until it felt right. The program defaulted to one hundred beats per minute, and she changed it to one hundred and twenty-four beats per minute. So far, the drums were the underlying beat she needed to get started. Ultimately, they would tie everything together, but she hadn’t reached that point yet. Although she had no lyrics, she needed a key to put the song in or at least a mode. Ronnie could choose between major or minor, and she decided to try her luck with minor first. She randomly chose D-sharp and E-flat for the key, knowing Gustavo would likely change this later. While she was in the beginning stages, it was fine. 

“Hey, Kev, can you play a chord progression somewhere around D-sharp?” Ronnie looked up from her laptop. Her friends had stopped making sounds when they realized she was intensely focused. 

“Yeah, yeah.” The dark-haired boy in sunglasses dropped his guitar pick and chuckled awkwardly. His finger placement on the guitar was clumsy, but he strummed somewhat of a chord progression. At least, he tried to. It wasn’t quite what Ronnie was looking for, but she wouldn’t say that aloud. 

The song had to be danceable and high energy because most of Big Time Rush’s music was high energy and danceable. Or, at least, it should fit into an album with high energy and danceable songs. As much as Ronnie wanted to believe she could churn out a whole song on her own, even with the help of friends, she ultimately knew that Gustavo would be much more help. The songwriter appreciated that Kevin and Lucy were trying their hardest to help, but Gustavo knew how to write a song with a particular expertise. 

It wasn’t that Ronnie didn’t have the utmost confidence in her songwriting abilities, but starting from scratch was not something she worked with quite often. Usually, her music was inspired by other melodies or songs she heard on the radio, but with Big Time Rush’s album, she decided to challenge herself. Of course, she had to remember that she wasn’t writing for herself anymore. Her songs weren’t only for her. Whatever she churned out was meant for the band. Although she could try to keep the scrapped songs for herself, ultimately, her music went to the guys. 

Making sure she saved her digital workspace, Ronnie sighed and closed her laptop. She could waste time attempting to figure it out independently, but running to Gustavo with her tail tucked between her legs was less of a struggle. The green-haired girl stuffed her laptop in her backpack and stood up abruptly. Lucy and Kevin watched wordlessly as their friend left the pool area. They exchanged confused looks. 

“Did that have anything to do with us?” Lucy asked. She again kicked her feet up on the unlit bonfire and opened her bag of cheese doodles. 

“No idea,” Kevin shrugged and took off the guitar strap. He put the guitar in the empty spot the songwriter had occupied on the bench. 

“Maybe she couldn’t focus.” Lucy popped a cheese doodle in her mouth and offered the bag to the boy sitting next to her. “I have no idea what pressure she’s under, but I know for certain it is not good.” 

“I’m surprised BTR isn’t helping her, considering this is for their second album.” Kevin adjusted his sunglasses. “But, you know them, they're off causing chaos.” 

“Exactly, but they’ll buckle down and help if she needs them to… I think.” 

Ronnie waved to the security guard behind the front desk and pressed the call button for the elevator. The melody in her head wouldn’t leave her alone, but she needed the record producer to help her. He was the one with platinum records hanging on his wall and a ton of experience that could benefit her. She couldn’t understand why he would leave her to make the songs alone, but maybe he was working on a song simultaneously. Perhaps they each were working on a song for the album to get this over with faster. 

Thankfully, the man in the tracksuit was sitting idly in his office. Kelly was nowhere to be found, but she could trust that the talent scout was nearby. Typically, Big Time Rush barged into Gustavo’s office whenever they pleased, but Ronnie wrapped her knuckles against the door. Her knocking on the door spooked him, pulling the man out of his thoughts. 

“Kelly? You don’t have to knock,” 

“It’s not Kelly,” Ronnie opened the door and peeked inside. “Are you busy?” 

“No, no. I’m not busy.” Gustavo put his feet down and folded his hands. “What’s up?” 

“I need help with one of the songs for the album.” Ronnie opened the door wider and sat down in one of the armchairs across from him. She put her backpack on the floor and opened her laptop. “I have a drum beat, but that’s as far as I could get…” 

“Oh.” Gustavo’s shoulders slumped. He forgot she was writing the album with him. Having her around made his job easier, and it was quite startling. “What lyrics have you written?” 

“I didn’t write any lyrics.” Ronnie pulled out her songbook. “Well, they aren’t lyrics, but I wrote down what my friends said about how music is better when you write it with people you care about.” 

“Music sounds better with you?” Gustavo rose a brow. “Okay, okay. I can work with that.” He nodded slowly and turned her laptop around. 

Ronnie didn’t like it when other people touched her things, but if it was Gustavo, she had to deal with it because he was helping her. The record producer knew more about music than she did but was a horrible teacher in those music theory classes. He chose horrible teachers for his school, Rocque, which she surprisingly kept up with. Although she wanted to attend the Palm Woods school, she wouldn’t argue with him about her education. On the bright side, Ronnie frequently went to Logan to learn anything new because the teachers handing out her homework gave her kindergarten-type problems. Logan was a better teacher than half of the people that Gustavo employed, but if she ever said that to their faces, it would mean detention. 

The office was silent except for clicking the keys on her laptop as Gustavo messed around with the digital workspace. It wasn’t something he enjoyed, but Ronnie preferred it, so he at least tried to use it occasionally. 

Since Curt, her boyfriend, had no idea her birthday was November 21st, he assumed he could make it up by giving her a present today. The only problem was that Ronnie got in a car before he could catch her. It was strange. She was wearing a blue sweatshirt instead of her yellow sweatshirt. Curt hadn’t given her one of his sweatshirts, so where did she get the blue one? It wasn’t uncommon for him to run into Kendall in the lobby of the Palm Woods, but the singer was the last person he wanted to see. The hockey player may have been quick to forgive Kendall for punching him, but he had a gut feeling his girlfriend got that sweatshirt from him. 

Curt tried his best not to blame Ronnie for his jealousy. It wasn’t her fault that other guys would find her attractive. She was beautiful, and it was only fair for him to acknowledge that. The hockey player trusted the songwriter enough to know she would never cheat on him, especially not with someone like Kendall. Somehow, the BTR fans had found his scuttlebutter and couldn’t stop comparing him to the blonde singer. It was infuriating because there was nothing similar about Curt and Kendall. But the annoyance bubbled to the surface. 

It wasn’t like Curt would ever ask Ronnie to give up her dream and quit being a songwriter for Big Time Rush. He knew she enjoyed writing their music, and he couldn’t stop them from spending all their time with her, but he couldn’t help it when he thought about how they worked together and lived in the same building while Curt lived across town, thanks to Griffin. Curt swallowed his anger, or at least tried to swallow his anger. 

“You gave my girlfriend a sweatshirt?” 

“What–” Kendall jumped and spun around. “What the hell are you talking about?” The taller blonde tried his best to feign innocence. 

“It’s blue. Ronnie doesn’t wear a blue sweatshirt,” Curt blinked twice. His expression was blank. He was unimpressed. 

“I bought her one.” Kendall swallowed thickly. He didn’t need to get nervous and give it away that he happened to give Ronnie one of his sweatshirts instead of buying her one from some department store. 

“Really?” Curt raised a brow. His expressionless voice and face were freaking Kendall out. It made the blonde sweat nervously. 

“Yeah, and you can give her one of your sweaters.” Kendall punched in numbers on the keypad and watched as the small bag of cookies dropped to the bottom of the vending machine. 

“That’s not the point, Kendall.” Curt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You gave her a sweatshirt, and she is wearing it. She’s my girlfriend, yet you seem more like a boyfriend than I do.” 

“That’s your problem,” Kendall shouldered past him and opened the bag of cookies. “What’s the use of complaining to me when you could improve your boyfriend attitude.” 

“Okay, fuck you.” Curt spat. “I know you like her and want you to back off.” 

“I don’t like her.” Kendall stopped in his tracks and turned around. “We’re friends, and I’m trying to make up for how much of a dick I’ve been.” 

“No,” Curt’s fists clenched at his side. “You’re trying to be between us.” 

“Dude, do you seriously think I want to date her?” 

“Yeah, I do. Because I see how you look at her and act around her, which is not friendly; it’s like you’re compensating for something.”  

Kendall chewed the small cookie slowly—words bouncing around in his brain. 

“If you’re saying I’m compensating for a small–” 

“No!” Curt scrunched his face in disgust. “You don’t want anyone to find out you like Ronnie and pretend you hate her.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Kendall laughed. “Is this a joke? Are you joking with me?” 

“Can you be serious?” Curt smacked the bag of cookies out of Kendall’s hand. “She’s my girlfriend!” 

“Okay, I get it. You and Ronnie are dating.” Kendall rolled his eyes. “Are you going to pay me back for those cookies?” 

“I don’t care about the fucking cookies!” Curt snapped. “You gave my girlfriend a sweatshirt!” He jabbed his finger in Kendall’s chest. 

“Dude, ask her to throw it out if you care that much.” Kendall shrugged. “I don’t care what she does with it. I gifted it to her, but she’ll have to pay me back if she throws it away.” 

It was rather annoying that Kendall couldn't care less about the sweatshirt he gave Ronnie. To Curt, sweatshirts were something that girlfriends stole from their boyfriends to act cute. Because Kendall gifted Ronnie a sweatshirt, he essentially stole that experience from Curt. Of course, the hockey player had given ex-girlfriends his sweatshirts before, but he wanted to give Ronnie his sweatshirt since she always wore one. Unfortunately, Kendall beat him to it. This ultimately made no sense because he was acting rather apathetic. Curt didn’t think a confrontation would be such a dead end. He was at a loss and didn’t know what to do. 

The hockey player at least expected Kendall to confess that he gave Ronnie one of his sweatshirts, but because he didn’t, this would have been harder than it needed to be. The shorter blonde grumbled as he slotted the right amount of quarters into the vending machine to pay for another baggie of cookies for Kendall. He didn’t feel guilty about the cookies, but he did want to punch Kendall in the face. Getting him back for that right hook the singer landed on his jaw would be satisfying. Kendall happily munched on his new baggie of cookies and walked away without another word. Seeing as Curt didn’t get what he wanted, he decided to stop by the ice rink and practice for a little while. Anything physical exercise would get rid of the anger that was bubbling inside of him. Griffin wouldn’t be proud if he ended up punching someone, and the paparazzi caught that on camera. 

Kendall watched Curt leave the Palm Woods and finally allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. He didn’t know how he could keep calm while lying through his teeth. Kendall knew the sweatshirt he gifted Ronnie was not from a department store, but Curt didn’t need to know. The sweatshirt was a last-minute gift because he had no idea Ronnie’s birthday was November 21st. At least now, he could plan a birthday gift for next year. If Curt was this close to figuring out the truth, Kendall had every reason to panic. With his half-eaten baggie of cookies, the blonde rushed to the elevator. Logan could offer the best advice to escape this sticky situation even though James gave the best advice on relationships. 

In apartment 2J, Logan was working on his homework. He was always working on his homework the most compared to his friends. He was studious, and Gustavo often described him as too nerdy to dance. The only problem with Logan giving relationship advice was that he used Love Science to choose who he should date. Unfortunately, the science he created came up with an inconclusive answer. There was no doubt in Kendall’s mind that Logan would put him through love science to determine if Kendall should wait for Jo as he previously planned or figure out how to pursue Ronnie. Or, maybe there was a completely different answer it would come up with. Either way, Kendall didn’t want to think about it. He thought Love Science was stupid. Algorithms and computers cannot detect who likes who or who is meant for someone. Love Science was as intuitive as the information put into the equation. 

“Logan!” Kendall burst through the door. “I need your help,” 

The dark-haired boy sat at the breakfast bar with his calculator, scribbling his pencil across paper. Logan hummed in response but didn’t look up. He could tell who was asking based on voice alone, and he was paying attention. For some reason, Logan was a great multitasker compared to his friends. It might have to do with how smart he is. 

“So, I gave Ronnie a sweatshirt, but it’s mine. I didn’t buy it from a department store. Curt found out, and I don’t know what to do.” 

Logan’s pencil stopped like a record coming to a screeching halt. He picked his head up and stared wide-eyed at Kendall. 

“What–” 

“Curt found out I gave his girlfriend one of my sweatshirts!” 

“How is this my problem?” Logan tilted his head. 

“Because I need help!” 

“Okay… What do you want me to do?” 

“I need advice! I need a solution!” Kendall whined and dropped to his knees. He clasped his hands together. “Please, I need you to help.” 

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?” Logan quirked a brow. “If anything, the solution should be obvious. You must crush these budding feelings for Ronnie because she is in a happy, committed relationship.” 

“They’ve been together for two months!” 

“That doesn’t matter! Your relationship with Jo fell flat, and you can’t talk about your feelings for the life of you.” 

“I don’t see why that’s a problem–” 

“Kendall,” Logan exhaled sharply. “Do you want me to put your names into Love Science?” 

“What– Pfft, no…” Kendall laughed awkwardly and looked away. “...Yes.” He mumbled. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll go set everything up.” Logan sighed and got up to find the machine he had made a while ago. If it would help his friend and keep Kendall from bothering him while he was doing his homework, then it would be beneficial to at least try it. 

The blonde never liked being hooked up to the machine. The sticky sensors made him itchy, and the wires made him think of the hospital. More specifically, of the time he broke his leg in middle school and couldn’t play in their junior hockey league. Kendall was uncomfortable, and his heart rate spiked, but it didn’t set the sensors off. Logan took a step back and scratched his chin. It had been quite a bit since he set up the Love Science machine, but he was confident this was how he was supposed to set it up. 

“Okay, first, think about Ronnie. Imagine she rushed through the door and collapsed into your arms crying.” Logan side-eyed the monitor. 

“Why would I think about her crying?” Kendall shook slightly. 

“I don’t know! Just think about her!” 

“This feels weird!” 

“You asked me to set this up!” Logan huffed. He massaged his temples and sighed. 

Kendall slumped in the chair and leaned his head back as carefully as possible to avoid ripping off the sensors attached to his forehead. He was already thinking about the songwriter. She wore his hoodie, and the thought of that made him giddy. Logan tapped the monitor and watched the EKG. Kendall didn’t know how long this would take, and the chair was very uncomfortable. Then, the idea his friend threw at him snuck into his head. If Ronnie came to him crying because she broke up with Curt, he would have no idea how he would react. On the one hand, Kendall would attempt to cheer her up, but on the other hand, the blonde singer would be paralyzed. He would be terrified of saying the wrong thing and worsening her sorrow. 

“Alright, now think about Jo…” 

Kendall felt as though he flatlined. He tried not to think about Jo too often because she was his first girlfriend, and he only pushed her away. Their relationship was sweet, and Jo was the girl he dreamed of. He couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. Then again, he would want to restart their relationship if she returned. Their careers got in the way, and it was bound to fail because neither knew how to navigate something like that. But then again, did Kendall truly want to restart their relationship? Was he only thinking about restarting their relationship because Jo wanted to?

Somehow, Ronnie and Gustavo finished the fourth song for BTR’s second album in a couple of hours. Of course, Gustavo did most of the work because he had experience and expertise. It was stressful, but they finally had Music Sounds Better. Gustavo also estimated that the album should have thirteen songs, so they have nine to make in three weeks. Instead of writing them, the boys have to perform them and learn choreography. The bonfire in the back corner was lit, and smoke wafted in the air as it burned. Kevin, Lucy, and Ronnie were side by side on the stone bench again, not so discreetly passing a joint back and forth. 

“So, how are you liking the School of Rocque?” Lucy asked, blowing smoke into the night air. The fire cast a shadow on her face. “When the guys talked about it, they lamented about how much it sucked.” 

“Ugh, it’s horrible.” Ronnie groaned and leaned back. She blew the smoke out of her mouth, watching it wisp into the air and curl around itself. 

“What’s the School of Rocque?” Kevin asked in between coughs. 

“An excuse for Gustavo to keep me on the premises…” Ronnie stared into the fire. Her emerald eyes were illuminated by the flickering flames eating the fuel in the bonfire. “I’d rather go to the school at the Palm Woods, but it isn’t all that bad.” 

“The Palm Woods school is awesome! Mrs. Collins knows how to include every learning style, and sometimes she gives us pie in class.” Kevin chuckled and leaned back. He nodded slowly with a lazy smile. 

“I can only imagine that bodes well with Carlos,” Ronnie took one last drag from the joint before handing it back to Lucy. “But I would not want to share a class with Kendall.” 

“Why?” Lucy asked. 

“Well, I mean, he hasn’t been that much of a jerk recently, but he’s still a dick.” Ronnie sighed and leaned her head back. “Sometimes it’s way too obvious that he doesn’t know if he wants to befriend me.” The songwriter blew hair out of her face. “He thinks I’ll wait for him to figure out what he wants.” 

“You sound like you like him,” Kevin raised a brow. “Don’t you have a boyfriend?” 

“I don’t like him.” Ronnie shot back. 

“No, I think you like him and don’t want to acknowledge it.” Kevin chuckled. 

“Maybe you like him because Curt hasn’t been acting like a boyfriend,” Lucy said. 

“Not true!” Ronnie’s voice rose an octave. “Curt’s the best boyfriend.” 

“Then why do you like Kendall.” Lucy leaned forward. Both she and Kevin were looking expectantly at Ronnie. 

“Shut– Shut up.” The green-haired girl swatted the air and then crossed her arms and pouted. “I do not like Kendall. I’m probably projecting because I haven’t spent enough time with Curt since he’s been signed onto the L.A. Kings…” 

“Dude, he sold out your relationship to the media.” Kevin frowned. 

“Accidentally! He didn’t know how they would react.” 

“What’s with the blue hoodie?” Lucy finally noticed it. “Usually, you wear the yellow one.” 

“Kendall gave it to me…” Ronnie mumbled and shrunk into her sweatshirt. She played with the drawstrings and looked away. 

“You’re wearing a sweatshirt Kendall gave to you?” Both Lucy and Kevin asked. 

“I don’t– I don’t like him!” Ronnie stammered. “We’re friends… I think.” 

“You think?” Lucy parroted. 

“I don’t know!” Ronnie groaned and slumped over. “Sometimes he acts like he’s more than a friend, but I can’t tell if I’m thinking about it too much!” 

“Woah…” Kevin’s sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, and his eyes widened. “This has you hella bent out of shape…” 

“I’m sorry.” Ronnie sighed and tucked her knees to her chest. “I wish this wasn’t so complicated.” 

“Yeah, but you’re not the one making it complicated. Kendall is,” Lucy reasoned. “This isn’t on you. It’s not your fault.” 

“But I have a boyfriend.” 

“But Ken-dork is confusing you.” Kevin reasoned. 

A pitiful whine sounded from Ronnie’s throat, and she tucked her head between her knees. She was confused and tired and did not know what to do. It was strange that this happened in the blink of an eye, and she was afraid that if she let it be, it would snowball into something worse. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she didn’t check it. The last thing she needed was to see a text from Kendall or Curt. Before she could talk to either of them, Ronnie needed to figure out what was going on. She learned a lot from Addison’s on-again, off-again relationship with Trent. Cheating was the worst thing you could do in a relationship. The songwriter didn’t want to cheat on Curt accidentally. If she did, he deserved someone far better than her. 

“The stars are so pretty.” Lucy looked up at the night sky and squinted. Of course, she would never have said that sober. 

“Did you know my star sign is Virgo?” Kevin snickered. 

“No way! I’m a Virgo, too!” Lucy gasped. “Ronnie, what’s your zodiac sign?” 

“Uhh, the November 21st one…” 

“Your birthday was two days ago?!” Kevin and Lucy exclaimed. 

“Holy shit, we have to sing Happy Birthday.” Kevin looked around for his guitar pick. “I can’t believe we missed it!” 

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” Ronnie sighed and closed the hood around her face. 

“Why? Birthdays are the best. There’s cake and presents, and the people who care about you gather in one room.” Lucy blinked twice. “How could you not like your birthday?” 

“Things… Things always happen.” The green-haired girl muttered. “But James overheard me and my dad talking about it while we were dying my hair… Well, now everyone knows. I didn’t even want Curt to know, and I think he found out Kendall took me ice skating and gave me this hoodie.” 

“It does sound like Kendall acts more like your boyfriend.”

[a-model-of-propriety]

Omg please...10 and 11 for all three of the OCs you tagged in the ask game post!! (Tomb-less trio sounds awesome btw)

aww thank you!! i may’ve been a bit unclear with my tags dkskdndn sorry! tomb-less trio is actually a separate group from my sailor bois. i’m more than happy to answer for all six of them though!

10. What is the most important thing to them?

Nikolai: probably their mother’s locket. It was the only thing that he took with him when he ran away, and it’s the only memento they have of their parents.

Enok: easy, it’s his gloves! Else (his little sister) knitted him a pair of gloves before he left home. They are garishly pink and mangled beyond recognition, but Enok loves them so much and refuses to use any other.

Andrey: his dark green coat! Not only is it really comfortable, he got it from a fellow sailor on his very first crew without his father, so it also is a sort of symbol of the fact that he can be a successful sailor.

Nova: idk if it counts as a “thing” but her familiar Ash is definitely very important to her. Ash is an African Wood Owl and is the only person/thing that Nova’s had since the very beginning.

Ambrose: how can she possibly pick?? If she had to pick one thing, it would probably be her hair clip. She has had it ever since before she became a vampire, and it helps her keep a connection to her old life, even if it’s long gone.

Victor: his journal! it was a gift from his father, and it was the first thing that his father gave him that actually felt sincere. Victor never got along well with his dad, so it felt… special that his dad actually gave him a meaningful gift at least once. It also holds all the poems he’s ever written, which makes it all the more special.

11. Who is the most important person to them?

Nikolai: Nik’s answer to this changes with the wind. Pretty consistently it’s one of the other younger crew members on the Vulture (feel free to look into the au if you want! all the stuff i’ve rb’d of it is under “from the ship logbooks” and it would take waaay too long to explain here). Sometimes it’s Jack, and it’s usually Ernest whenever he’s willing to show Nik his sword collection. Nik doesn’t tend to think too deeply about this and pick one person. They have too many friends to pick just one “most important person.”

Enok: ummm his father? Enok was really close to his dad and misses him fiercely. Also up there is Else, they were always close as kids.

Andrey: already answered!

All the trio would answer with each other. When everyone around you ages and dies, it helps to have each other. Nova especially has a hard time getting close to people since she’s far older than either of the others. Ambrose does try and make friends, but she still has to hold herself back some so it doesn’t hurt as much when they’re gone. And Victor is too shy to really become close to anyone besides Nova and Ambrose. But yeah, all three are very close to each other.

thanks for the ask, and sorry for the huge block of text!!

[coelakanths]

thinking abt stupid fucking highschool is so funny cuz like. the storyline is so silly and surface level. mabs n lyle hanging out! navigating highschool! and then you realize that the school blew up last year bc a student-now-alumni summoned an old god on campus. AND NOBODY HAS MENTIONED IT SINCE. 

[existslikepristin]

A Two-on-One Match

Part 2 of 3 of the OC Jung Hyunjin's arc. A request from Rex [of the ever-changing name] I recommend starting with A Quick Fix to follow the plot if you haven't read it already.

Tags: TheLounge, Gfriend, Eunha, SinB, male OC Jung Hyunjin, "oh hey I know you", one dom one sub one clueless boxer, some butt stuff, request

~~~~~

The bell rang to announce Yuta’s departure. He turned back as he walked through the door and waved. “Thanks Hyunjin! Good to meet you!”

“You too man! Enjoy!” Hyunjin waved back. It was his second week working at The Lounge and he was getting to know quite the wide range of people, and the first day he was working the morning shift, now that he was fully finished with his evening training.

A familiar voice came from behind, just at the entrance to the kitchen. “Nice catch. How’d you know Yuta would like the cinnamon sprinkle?” It was Hyunjin’s new boss, Kim Soomin.

“Wish I could tell you Ms. Kim. Honestly I just guessed.”

Soomin shrugged. “We’ll chalk it up to intuition then. Anyway, it seems like you’ve got things handled up here. I’m going to start up the oven for some brownies. Sungho is going to be here in half an hour, but I’ll be right there if you get rushed, alright?”

“You got it, Ms. Kim.”

Hyunjin wasn’t especially worried, since he didn’t imagine they’d be getting that many more customers in so early in the morning. When Soomin was gone, he leaned back against the perfectly clean counter and pulled out his phone.

Sowon had told him she was an idol, but he still hadn’t bothered to look up her music. It seemed to him that while he was waiting for customers was as good a time as any. He opened up his default browser and tapped in her name. A second later, his phone was flooded with pictures of Sowon in a variety of outfits, generally much fancier than what he usually saw her in. In the sidebar, her real name appeared, as well as the company she worked for and the group she was part of. “Gfriend,” rung a bell in Hyunjin’s head, at least, though he had no clue if he’d actually heard any of their music before. Maybe at a convenient store while he wasn’t paying attention?

He tapped the link to change the search to Gfriend. The images that showed up were far more zoomed out than before. He could pick out Sowon’s face among the six women in each picture, but immediately scrolled down and saw their names. He nodded his head and kept going down the list. Jung Yerin was next. No clue who she was. Then Jung Eunbi, also known as Eunha. That name sounded somehow familiar to him, but he continued to read. Choi Yuna, also known as Yuju…

He was interrupted by the bell ringing. He bounced away from the counter and popped his phone back into his pocket. Looking up, he saw two women had entered. One of them took off to the side toward the lounge chairs right away, but the other one approached the counter. She walked normally at first, but slowed down when she and Hyunjin’s eyes met.

“H-hyunjin?” she asked.

Hyunjin hesitated to respond. He pulled his phone back out and looked at the images still on the screen. “Do you go by Eunha?”

Eunha nodded slowly. “Yeah… Were you in drama club in middle school?”

“I was.”

There was a long pause.

“Holy shit, Hyunjin! It’s been such a long time! When did you start working here?”

Hyunjin laughed. He knew the name was familiar. “Just a couple of weeks ago. I got referred by Sowon.”

Eunha laughed back. “She and I are in a girl group together!”

“I literally just found that out! I was looking you guys up! See?” Hyunjin held out his phone.

“Woah! Yeah! How are you doing these days?”

The two took some time to reminisce and catch up. Despite the initial moment of not recognizing each other, they quickly remembered their connection. They had grown up in the same neighborhood, and recalled a variety of events they had gone to together as children. Eunha was a year above him in school, but had encouraged him to participate in drama. The Lounge continued to stay effectively empty the whole time. Hyunjin told Eunha about how he and Sowon met and how he ended up there, and about how he was training again to fight. Eunha told him about the rest of Gfriend, and how the other woman she entered with was Umji.

To avoid making Umji wait too much longer, Hyunjin took Eunha’s order and got to work. He was all smiles. When he brought their coffee to them, he included a napkin with his phone number on it and invited Eunha to the fight, but couldn’t continue to chat with the other customers that began to pour in, the bell going wild.

* * *

The bell went wild. It was the end of the last round. Hyunjin wiped at his nose with his arm. His opponent backed off and the two bumped their gloves together. Hyunjin wasn’t especially happy with the turnout. It had been far too long since he’d stepped in a ring, and it showed. That wasn’t going to stop him from being a good sport though. He kept a smile on.

Fortunately, the referee still held his arm up in the end. “... by split decision: Jung Hyunjin!”

The crowd cheered. Whether it was for Hyunjin or not, he couldn’t really tell. The crowd wasn’t exactly huge, and the two fighters nobody had heard of (it was only his opponent’s second official match) in a small venue didn’t exactly have a fanbase yet. Hyunjin couldn’t pick any familiar faces out of the crowd either.

His disappointment was quickly abated by who he saw while making his way to the locker room. Dressed in frumpy, nondescript sweatshirts and hats, Eunha and another girl Hyunjin barely recognized from Gfriend’s group pictures as SinB caught him right at the doorway.

“Hey! We were hiding out in the back row. Congrats!”

Hyunjin ran his fingers through his hair. “Thanks. I was rusty though.”

“Rusty? What do you mean? You were great!”

SinB tapped Eunha on the arm. “No, he’s right. They both looked like amateurs.”

Hyunjin grimaced, but before he could say anything, Eunha grabbed him by the arm. “Hey, let’s go in there, where it’s not so noisy! I can barely hear you two!”

She wasn’t wrong. When the door closed behind them, the lack of noise was a relief.

“So yeah,” SinB started, “what I was saying is that he’s right. They loo--”

Eunha silenced her with a strict look. “SinB...” is all she said, and it was all she needed.

SinB averted her eyes and a blush crossed her cheeks. “It’s um… Nice to meet you, Hyunjin. My name’s SinB.”

Hyunjin smirked. “Hey, good meeting you too. Don’t worry about the fight though. I used to be a lot better. I’m just out of practice. I’ll be starting regular training again next week.”

“You really did do great though,” Eunha said, “I mean, you had to, right? You won.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m just being critical of myself. But anyway, thanks for coming! I really appreciate the support.”

“Of course! Just think of us as your first fans?” Eunha ended with a questioning tone, but followed up quickly. “Actually, let’s not be fans yet. It’s weird for fans to take you out to dinner.”

“Dinner, huh? I’d like that. I need to get washed up first. Pretty sure I’ve still got some blood in my mouth.”

“Totally, yeah! We’ll just, uh, wait here.”

Hyunjin gave a nod and went to the locker room. He could hear Eunha hushedly giving SinB an earful the whole way.

Undressing was a bit painful. Hyunjin had taken a particularly strong hit to one of his left ribs, and now that he could see the site of the impact, he could already tell it would be bruising. He hoped it wasn’t broken.

As he made his way to the open showers, he could hear Eunha and SinB again. They sounded like they were close to the locker room. There wasn’t a door to block the sound though, so he didn’t think much of it, but he knew something was up when he heard footsteps over the sound of the running water. Nobody else should be on this half of the building except his coach, who he hadn’t even informed of the fight. He quickly covered his dick with his hands and turned to the entrance.

And there was SinB, blushing furiously, looking straight up at the ceiling. “H-hey, Hyunjin. I’m sorry.”

“Um. Well, cool. Apology accepted. But is this really the--”

Hyunjin cut himself off as Eunha brushed past SinB. But unlike SinB, she was completely undressed. She walked toward him, small breasts bouncing with each step, getting soaked as she went directly through the spray of the showers. He started to smile, but noticed and quickly got rid of it. “Eunha, you’re…”

“I’m here to help you get cleaned up,” she finished his sentence for him, though it wasn’t what he was intending to say. “We can get to the restaurant sooner this way, right?”

Eunha grabbed a bar of soap from one of the little shelves along the wall and stopped just short of Hyunjin, who had lost all hope of being able to hide his erection. Not that Eunha seemed to mind, or even pay any attention. But it’s what she said next that made her intentions much, much clearer.

“You and Sowon aren’t exclusive, right?”

“No. I suppose we’ve been very clear that we aren’t.” Hyunjin took a hand away from his crotch to rub the back of his neck.

Eunha put a hand on Hyunjin’s arm, pointing at his neck. “Oh no. Are you feeling sore?” She gestured toward a stool. “Let me give you a massage. SinB!”

Hyunjin watched, half afraid and half mesmerized, as SinB quickly undressed and tossed all of her clothes back into the locker room. He let Eunha pull him down to sit on the stool she dragged underneath the stream of the shower. “I don’t really need a massage. It’s okay.”

“That’s good to hear! I’ll just get started on washing you up then. In the meantime, can you do me a favor?”

“Uh… Sure?”

While sitting on the stool, Hyunjin was just barely shorter than Eunha, which let her lean down to whisper in his ear. Her tone made it clear she was asking a question. “Let SinB practice on you?”

Hyunjin’s eyes went wide. “So Eunha, I don’t mean to sound like a perv here, but are you implying something about practicing a blowjob? Because I’ll take that.”

Eunha motioned for SinB to approach. “No, no. Why would you think that?” she asked, clearly twitching at the corner of her mouth as she tried not to smile. She slowly pulled Hyunjin’s other hand away from his full-mast dick.

In no time at all, SinB was standing in front of Hyunjin, hair getting drenched by the shower, hands behind her back, and eyes anywhere but on him. With a little difficulty, she moved to straddle his lap. The width of her legs put her bare pussy dangerously close to his cock.

Sure he knew where the situation was taking them, Hyunjin shifted his legs, pushing SinB’s a little farther apart. The head of his dick speared her. He watched as her chest rose and fell rapidly. She used her hands to brace herself on his shoulders. He wanted to make a snarky comment, but was having difficulty coming up with anything good. He was also distracted by the feeling of something hard against his cock. He reached around SinB and grabbed her butt. As his fingers explored, he was able to verify immediately that she had a butt plug inside of her.

“This is an interesting night,” he said simply.

Just then, Hyunjin felt Eunha pressing her front up against his back. Her skin glided over his, as if it was (and it was) covered in soap. At the same time, SinB lowered herself further onto his dick in a jerking, twitching way.

“I don’t know what you mean. Is something unusual, Hyunjin?” Eunha asked as she rubbed her tits and stomach up and down his back.

Hyunjin’s sarcasm struggled its way out of his throat as SinB started fucking him, bouncing herself and making a beautiful, wet scene of her slim body. “Not at all…” Hyunjin said, “Perfectly normal Wednesday night.”

Eunha couldn’t contain her giggle. She ran her soapy hands over Hyunjin’s shoulders, arms, and whatever parts of his legs she could reach with SinB in the way. He winced a little when she swept over his new bruise, but otherwise did his best not to react.

“How do you like SinB’s pussy?”

Hyunjin groaned. His grip on SinB’s asscheeks tightened subconsciously. He had to unclench his teeth to say, “It’s alright.”

“Hear that, SinB? Just alright. Maybe a bit amateurish.”

SinB’s shoulders tensed up visibly. “I said I was sorry…”

Eunha walked around to the shelves on the wall to pull a bottle of shampoo off. The close up view of Eunha’s plump, naked, wet ass just about set Hyunjin off. She was obviously arching her back just enough to make it noticeable.

“Damn, Eunha. I always admired your butt when you were my senior, but now… fuck…”

She turned to look at Hyunjin over her shoulder. “Oh thank you! Sounds like you’re thinking about cumming?”

Hyunjin nodded. With no hesitation at all, Eunha set the shampoo back down and pulled a visibly shocked SinB off of his cock. He was shocked too, about ready to ask why Eunha would do such a thing, but found his answer right away.

Eunha, facing away from Hyunjin, positioned herself between his legs and spread her ass with one hand, and grabbed his cock with the other. She directed it to an unexpected target, and Hyunjin’s breath caught in his throat as he was hilted completely in Eunha’s asshole.

“Now you can cum,” she said.

Hyunjin didn’t need to be told twice. He barely needed to be told once. His orgasm hit him harder than his opponent did in the ring. He grabbed Eunha’s hips and held her down against him as he pumped a gigantic load into her ass.

He brushed his hair back, suddenly light headed, feeling like his soul had just been pulled out of him through his cock. He saw SinB sitting back against the wall, still blushing bright red, masturbating as she stared between Eunha’s legs at the spot where Hyunjin was impaling her.

“So then,” Eunha said casually, despite having an ass full of Hyunjin’s dick and cum, “Did you want anything special for dinner? I have an idea if you don’t!”

Hyunjin smiled. He was still trying to comprehend what just happened, but he was happy with it, even if the intensity of his climax left him with the sound of a bell ringing in his ears.

[anna-justice]

Light My Fire - 1

Summary: Millie Halstead is just a girl finally coming home, Blake Gallo is just a boy looking for one. *Blake Gallo x OC Halstead/UPSTEAD 

...

1 - It’s the Wind

...

O’Hare was buzzing with it’s normal chaotic energy, the business of traveling near the holidays lost on no one. Millie Halstead raced down her terminal, barely phased by the craziness. She couldn’t contain her smile as she saw a familiar redhead standing at baggage claim, she was home. 

“Mildred.” Will said, holding his arms open.

Millie rolled her eyes, “William.” They both laughed before embracing, it had been six months since they had seen each other last. “I missed you.” She said, pulling away.

Will reached out and grabbed his sister’s bag off the floor where she had dropped it. “I missed you too.” He nodded towards the doors, “Let’s get out of here.” 

The two siblings navigated the sea of people out of the airport and headed for Will’s car, which was conveniently (not) located at the far end of the parking garage. When they finally got there, Millie was out of breath, thankful that her brother had decided to take her bag. 

“This is weird.” She said, sliding into the passenger seat. 

“What is?”

Millie shrugged, “Being home.” She watched the city fly by out the window.

Will laughed at his sister’s dramatics, “Mill, this isn’t the first time you’ve come home…”

“Yeah, I know.” She said, glaring at him. “This is just the first time I’ve come home for good.” She peeked at her brother and watched his face go from very confused to shocked, she grinned.

“What?” Will asked, “You decided to take the job here?” Millie nodded, her heart swelling at her older brother’s joy. “The Halsteads,” He sighed, “All back together again.”

Millie laughed, “Looks like it.”

“Seattle not as fun as it used to be?” Will teased. 

She watched the buildings go by, it was similar in some ways to Seattle, but Seattle would never be Chicago. “Seattle is beautiful and I will always love it there, but it’s too far away…” She explained. Millie had attended the University of Washington for biology (specializing under a professor in marine biology), and she would forever say that it was one of the best decisions she had ever made. She had just finished an expedition in the pacific, working with an organization called OCEARCH for shark conservation. When she got back to land, there was a job offer for her from the Shedd Aquarium. 

As amazing as it was to live at sea, Millie missed her family and the decision to move back was a no-brainer. “I’m glad you're back, for good.” Will said, smiling.

“Yeah, me too.” She agreed. 

A few minutes later, Will pulled into the parking lot of the district. “I’ve got night shift tonight, so you are Jay’s problem until tomorrow.” Will joked, putting the car in park. “I’ll leave your stuff at my apartment and you can come grab it later.” 

Millie nodded, “Thanks Will.” She said, pushing the door open. “I’ll see you later.” Will waved before she shut the door, turning to make her way up the concrete steps. 

The 21st district was just how she remembered it, hectic and full of life. “Millie Halstead.” She heard and her head snapped up, meeting her favorite desk sergeants eyes. “Look at you.” She said, rounding the massive desk and wrapping her in a hug.

“Hi Sergeant Platt.” She said, smiling. 

Trudy pulled away, giving the much younger girl a fake stern look. “What have I told you? You aren’t your brother.”

Millie nodded, laughing. “You’re right. It’s good to see you, Trudy.”

“You too, it’s been too long since I’ve seen my favorite Halstead.” Trudy said quietly, “I’ll buzz you up.” 

“Thanks!” Millie threw over her shoulder, before walking up the stairs. She was a lot younger than her brothers, a product of a time where Pat and Jane were happy again. Her mom died when she was still in middle school and Trudy had become a sort of mother figure afterwards. Jay had been in intelligence for a long time and before that he was still at the 21st, she spent a lot of late nights with the resident desk sergeant when she wanted to be anywhere but home. 

She pushed the metal gate open and ascended the marble staircase to the bullpen. As room as she reached the top, her brother jumped up from his desk to greet her. Millie grinned, running past him and embracing his partner who was waiting for her with open arms. “Hey Mill.” Hailey said, hugging the girl tightly.

“Hey Hailes.” She replied. 

Someone cleared their throat behind her, Millie pulled away and rolled her eyes. “Hi Jay.” She said, walking over to hug her brother. 

“If it isn't baby Halstead?” Kevin asked, walking out of the interrogation room. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Hey Kev.” She said before going to hug Kim. “Hey.”

Kim gave her a kind smile. “Hi Mill, how are you?”

Millie grinned, she had some news to share. “I’m great.” 

The members of intelligence had become her family over the years, most of them had attended her high school graduation, Hailey flew out with Jay and Will to watch her walk in Washington. They had all been there for her every step of the way. Like when Jay was shot, Kim sat in the hospital on facetime with her for almost two days while he was in and out of surgery. 

“Hey kid.” Adam said, ruffling her hair. Millie faked a punch and Adam jumped back putting his hands up in surrender. “Woah-wee, did you get taller? I think she got taller.” He said pointing at her.

Millie backed away from Adam, “Shut up.” She turned her attention back to Hailey, leaning against her desk next to her. “So, do you still have that extra room?” She asked and Jay’s eyebrows shot up.

Hailey grinned, “Yeah, it’s been empty since Vanessa left.”

“You feel like having a roommate again?” Millie asked.

“Only if it’s you.” Hailey said, wrapping her arm around the younger girl. 

“Wait.” Jay said, moving his crossed arms to slightly point at his little sister. “Does this mean you are moving back?” Jay asked, his voice getting higher and more excited as he went.

Millie nodded, “Yeah. I took the job,” She took a step forward, almost like she was presenting herself to the room. “You are looking at the Shedd Aquarium’s new resident shark biologist!” 

The room erupted with claps, Jay coming to stand beside her. “I’m so proud of you.” He said quietly before hugging her once again. As much as Millie loved Will, she and Jay had always been closer. Jay was the token middle child, she always hated the way their dad treated him, but they bonded growing up. They were closer in age and even as a kid Jay had a slight hero complex, so when he enlisted Millie was anything but surprised. She was ten when he left, Will had already been gone for a while, he was in New York, but Jay leaving hit her much harder.

When their mom got sick he came home, but he wasn’t the same. Something in him had changed, he was still her Jay: loving, protective, responsible...but there was a darkness that he brought with him. There were many times that year before their mom died that she would sit outside of his bedroom door in the middle of the night, listening to him thrash around. She would stay until she knew he had fallen back asleep and then sneak back to her room. 

He left again for another tour after she died, that was the hardest. Pat was always distant, but after Jane died he wasn’t much of a father at all. Will visited, but he was living a new life far away so when he did come home, the time was short and few and far between. 

Jay joined the force after his second tour, telling Millie that he was home for good. She moved in with him for her last two years of high school, with little interference from their father. They were happy, Jay was pulled into a unit, where he met Antonio Dawson and Millie got a few more people to call family. She even babysat Eva and Diego sometimes. 

Choosing to go to Seattle for college was a hard decision, but she got a full scholarship and she had Jay’s full support, how could she not take it? That was the last time that she lived in Chicago, so Jay was ecstatic that she was back for good. “Let’s go get coffee, I’ve got some time and we need to catch up.” Jay said, grabbing his coat off his chair. 

“Sounds great.” Millie said. 

Jay looked at his partner, “Hailey?”

“I’m good, have fun.” She said, waving them off.

Jay nodded and Millie waved goodbye as they disappeared down stairs to the drive-by. “So…” Millie said as she hopped into the passenger seat of the truck. 

“So?” Jay asked.

Millie sighed, her brother was so dense sometimes. “Hailey…”

Jay laughed, “Yeah, what about her?”

“Jay. In the past two weeks you have called me three times about her.” 

Jay took a deep breath, he didn’t know how, but Millie could always see right through him, no matter how good the lie was. “And? She’s my partner.”

Millie laughed, “I know that excuse works for everyone else, but it doesn’t work for me.” She shifted in her seat to face him, “Plus, you called me about what to get her for Christmas, what I thought her favorite scent was and if asking her to go shopping with you was too much. Those aren’t really partner things Jay.” 

Jay thought long and hard, trying to find something to say. “I hate it when you are right.”

“That must be why you are so grumpy all the time.” Millie teased.

They reached the local coffee shop, ordering quickly (and of course Jay still got Hailey a cup). Even though the walk from the building to the truck was brief, Millie still shivered. “Cold?” Jay asked, smirking.

“You know, after living in Washington for five years, you’d think I’d be used to Chicago winters.” She said, sighing at the heat in the truck.

Jay shook his head, “It’s the wind.”

They rode in comfortable silence for a little while before Millie spoke up. “I was thinking...maybe we could go to Mom and Dad’s grave later? It’s been a while since we cleaned it.”

Jay nodded immediately, “I took tomorrow off, we could go in the morning after Will gets off shift.” He looked at his sister for approval..

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” Millie said, taking a breath. She sipped her hot drink, watching the building fly by. 

“Hey Mill.” Jay said, grabbing her attention. “I’m really glad you’re home.”

Millie smiled softly, “Yeah, me too.”

…

A/N: I am SO so excited for this story. I’ve been toying with the idea for a while now and I have finally have the time to write it! I know the backstory is a little jacked, but with a new character and timeline, I needed it to make sense. Also, I can’t decide if this is a fire or pd story, so let’s just call it both! Thanks for reading! <3

P.S. Comment to be added to the tag list!

[multifandomfanfiction]

Kingsman: The Bear and the Fairy Chapter 9

TITLE: Kingsman: The Bear and the Fairy Chapter 9 PAIRING: Jack “Agent Whiskey” Daniels/OC RATING: M CHAPTER: 9/? SUMMARY: When the Kingsman and the Statesman join  together to stop Poppy Adams, the last thing Elizabeth expected was to  fall in love with a tall, dark, and handsome cowboy named after a brand of whiskey.

They were airlifted back to Statesman HQ.

Jack was rushed to the infirmary.

“He’ll be okay, Bethy,” Eggsy reassured her.

“I know. I love him, Eggsy.”

“I know you do, love. I know you do.” Eggsy had seen Elizabeth flirt with people in the past.

They were always older and always Kingsman agents. It seemed she had a type.

“Ginger will fix him up good as new. You’ll see. Then you two can get to work making British-American babies with weird accents.”

Elizabeth gasped and smacked him on the chest, her cheeks burning up. “Eggsy!”

“Hey, at least it got you to smile.”

“You always know how to cheer me up, Eggsy.”

Eggsy hugged her. “It’s my job, luv.”

Elizabeth walked into the infirmary.

Ginger and Merlin turned to her.

“Oh, Elizabeth!” Ginger said, “I was wondering when we’d see you.”

Elizabeth had opted to change when they reached Statesman HQ. She walked up to Jack and took his large hand in her much tinier one. “How is he?”

“He looks great.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

Merlin put his hand on her shoulder. “He’ll pull through, Elizabeth.”

“Thank you, Merlin, Ginger.”

Merlin left the infirmary and she could vaguely hear Merlin, Eggsy, and Harry talking.

Eggsy suddenly burst into the infirmary. “We’ve got to go. Are you coming with us?”

“I…I’m sorry Eggsy. I can’t. I want to be here when he wakes up.”

“But…I need you Beth.”

Elizabeth put her hand on Eggsy’s cheek. “I think we both know I haven’t that much help. If I’m not worried about Jack, I’m worried about you or Harry. This job was a lot easier when I wasn’t so attached.”

“I respect your decision.”

Elizabeth kissed Eggsy on the cheek and said, “Be safe, please.”

Eggsy leaned forward and kissed Elizabeth’s forehead. He left the infirmary and Elizabeth wiped away a tear that had slipped from her eye.

“It’s very commendable,” Ginger said.

“I’ve broken all the rules at this point. What do I have left to lose?”

Ginger cocked her head at Elizabeth.

“I don’t know how you guys do it here, but Kingsman agents aren’t allowed to have relationships for this very reason. Gets in the way of the mission. I guess that’s why I’ve always allowed myself to fantasize about other Kingsman agents, but until Jack… Jack makes me feel like I’m the only woman on this earth. Like he’d jump off a cliff if I asked him to. I’ve always wanted to be loved like this and I don’t care that Jack is twice my age or that he’s old enough to be my father. I love him.”

“You’re wise beyond your years.”

Elizabeth laughed softly. “Harry said the exact same thing when he met me.”

The machines around them started beeping.

“He’s coming out of it,” Ginger said, “Remember, when he wakes up he may not know who you are so you’ll need to trigger his memory somehow.”

Elizabeth nodded and stepped back from Jack.

The chamber around Jack’s head opened and the table raised up. Jack sat up, gasping. He locked eyes with Elizabeth and jumped up. “Hello, gorgeous. I’m Jack. What’s your name? How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy?”

Elizabeth’s cheeks burned and she stepped back. He was so forward!

“Where you goin’, baby? I got a six pack of cold ones on ice and my roomie’s out all night. So you can scream as loud as you need to, sugar.” Jack wrapped his arms around Elizabeth’s waist. “Aww, look at you. You’re so small. Like a little fairy. How about I call you Tinkerbelle?”

The nickname reminded Elizabeth of what she was supposed to be doing and she pulled out one of her knives, pressing the tip to Jack’s throat.

Jack threw his hands up in surrender. “Woah. Easy there, Tinkerbelle. I meant no offense.”

Elizabeth leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

Jack jerked back from her and grabbed his head.

“Jack?” Elizabeth asked.

When Jack straightened up, he grabbed Elizabeth and slammed his lips on hers.

Elizabeth eagerly returned the kiss.

He pulled away and wiped away the tears streaming down her face. “I’m alright, darlin’.”

“I was so scared! You were dead!”

“But I’m alive thanks to you.”

Elizabeth sniffled. “Thanks to Eggsy. I was in shock after it happened.” Elizabeth set her head on his chest and Jack turned to Ginger.

“Goddamn butterfly guy shot me in the fucking head.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Well, I’m guessin’ you didn’t fix him right!”

Elizabeth could feel Jack’s body shaking in anger. She shushed him and rubbed his back to calm him.

“Where is he?” Jack asked.

“He’s on his way to Cambodia with Eggsy and Merlin. That’s where Poppy’s base is.”

“Eggsy’s gonna need backup.”

“Yes, he is.”

Jack looked down at Elizabeth. “You up for it, Tinkerbelle?”

Elizabeth blushed at the nickname, but nodded.

“Get the Silver Pony on the runway and ready to take off.” Jack grabbed Elizabeth’s hands and dragged her to his room.

Elizabeth sat down on Jack’s bed as he went into the closet to change.

He came out dressed in a dark denim jacket, a light blue shirt underneath, his black Stetson, dark wash jeans, and cowboy boots. The outfit was topped off with a large Statesman belt buckle.

Elizabeth’s eyes traveled from his feet to his head.

Jack walked towards her and came to stand in front of her. “We should get goin’ if we’re gonna catch up.”

Elizabeth stood up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him. It was slow and passionate, drawing a groan from Jack. When she settled back down on her feet and said, “Okay, now we can go.”

“Minx.”

Elizabeth smirked. “You love it.”

[jwillowwolf]

Magic and Miracles - Chapter 1

Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 1!

< Prologue | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Summary: Roman huffed. “Anyone could have done that.”

“Well, if they knew the spells, then yes,” Logan agreed.

“He’s just jealous of the grand show you made of it,” Remus chuckled.

“I am not jealous.”

“Oh, then why are your eyes so green?”

“They’re naturally this colour, idiot.”

“Ah, but not in such a poisonous shade.”

Warning/s: food mention, fantasy racism.

Characters: Logan, Emile, Remy, OCs, Virgil, Roman, Remus, Patton, Janus.

Read on AO3

1 | A Whole New World

Logan had been figuratively buzzing with anticipation ever since Mr Ainmosni had come to the bakery and offered him the chance of a lifetime. Now, one week later, he was about to be picked up for his first day of school. Everleigh had come around to see him off, and Emile had made them both pancakes with Crofters jam for breakfast.

“Do you think you’ll get to meet the prince?” Everleigh asked during their meal.

Logan shrugged. “Probably not. He’s never shown his face in public since he was a kid, after all.”

“Why though.” Everleigh wondered. “He’s the crown prince after all. Aren’t princes supposed to be big public figures or something?”

“Perhaps he hides his identity for the sake of protection. Again, he is the crown prince.” Logan pointed out.

“I guess you have a point there. Ooh, you are going to get to meet some nobles though.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“You’re the first non-noble to qualify for a magic license, so your classmates must be from the nobility.”

“Hmm, that seems most logical. Though I will meet and study with them, I doubt we’ll become friends.”

“Again with the selling-yourself-short! You’re awesome Lo, anyone, noble or otherwise, would be lucky to befriend you. Just don’t go getting yourself a new best friend, okay?”

“I’d never dream of it. But if I’m going to be spending so much time studying, then I hope you’ll consider finding yourself more friends.”

“I’ve got a library full of books, I don’t need more friends than that.”

“Ev…”

“Okay, I’ll socialise, if you do the same on your end.”

“I still don’t think anything will come of it, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Hey, kiddo, did you make sure to pack enough underwear?”

“Dad!” Logan exclaimed in embarrassment while Everleigh snickered at the question.

“I’m being serious, Logan. You don’t want to run out.”

“I am positive that I’ve packed everything I’m going to need.”

“Even your-”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t finish my sentence.”

“I’ve packed clothes, books, hygiene products, spare clothes, and a spare binder.”

“Okay. Don’t forget to take a break from binding every few hours. If I hear anything about you neglecting to do so, then make no mistakes I’ll march over there myself to see that you do.”

“I know. I can take care of myself dad.”

Everleigh snorted. “If it weren’t for us, you’d have probably worked yourself to death.”

Logan looked at her with a you-are-not-helping expression, then turned back to his dad. “I’ll be fine. Besides, Mr Ainmosni is going to be taking care of us.”

Emile frowned. “I don’t doubt that Remy is a good teacher if he’s been put in charge of this, but I feel that he’s not completely… responsible.”

“He definitely fancies you if the constant flirting was any indication,” Everleigh teased.

Logan snickered. “Yeah, you went red as a tomato.”

“Oh shush,” Emile scolded, blushing at even the memory.

“I’ll be okay though, you really don’t have to worry.”

“You know I will either way, but I am proud of you. It feels like just yesterday you two were tiny tots running around the bakery. Now, look at you! A library apprentice and a wizard in training.”

“We have come a pretty long way, haven’t we,” Logan smiled.

Everleigh laughed. “I don’t think I’m anywhere near as accomplished as you.”

“I wouldn’t be where I am without you. How else could I have studied those library books for countless hours without you making sure to keep tabs on them.”

“It’s not like I had much to worry about when you read at the speed of light.”

“I’m going to miss studying there.”

“Well, you’re always welcome to stop by. It’s not like you’re going to the next town over or anything.”

“I suppose. Though I really won’t be able to spend as much time there as before.”

“Don’t go getting homesick already, Lo. I already miss you, but this isn’t a goodbye.”

“Definitely not. I’ll probably visit this weekend.”

“Then I’ll be here Saturday morning to hear all about what you’ve done.”

Logan nodded. He was glad that they would stay friends, even if they could only see each other on weekends. He’d known Everleigh since they were babies after all. Not having her around would be weird.

The bell above the shop door rang and the trio in the kitchen heard Remy call. “I have arrived!”

They went to the bakery and saw Remy standing there in the same outfit as before, however this time he had a strange flask in his hand.

Emile frowned. “What’s that?”

“Midnight elixir. My own special concoction. It’s a touch bitter but really helps if you need an energy boost. Want a try?”

“Oh, uh, no thank you.”

“Woah, are you guys riding in that?” Everleigh gasped when she saw the carriage parked outside.

It was a standard chestnut brown box carriage with white swirls and spirals decorating it all around, and a pair of beautiful cream coloured horses pulling it.

“Yep. Ready to go, Logan?”

Logan nodded. “I just need to grab my bag from upstairs.”

He quickly went and got his suitcase then paused a moment to look around his room. He wouldn’t see it again for a while. Honestly, he’d never been away from home for longer than an overnight stay at Everleigh’s house. The reality of leaving everything he knew behind was both exciting and frightening. He truly didn’t know what to expect at this magic school apart from that he’d learn magic. This was a huge step to take and he wasn’t entirely sure of his readiness anymore.

But when he got downstairs and saw his dad and Everleigh’s proud expressions, he knew that there was no turning back now. He had a goal after all, and this was going to help him achieve it. He wouldn’t freeze up and disappoint them now.

Farewell wishes and goodbye hugs were quickly exchanged, then Logan and Remy got into the carriage and were off. Logan looked out the back window as they drove away from the bakery, out of town, and to the location of the Srednas Magic School.

“Mr Ainmosni-”

“Just Remy, kid.”

“Remy, where exactly is the school?”

“The school is, for now, the Srednas Manor. The Prince wants to have a proper school built, but this first class is only the test run, so to speak.”

“Test run?”

“The council wants to be sure that a school would be a successful idea before the Prince can order a real one to be made.”

Logan nodded. “I suppose that’s why it’s not publicly known.”

“Yeah, getting ideas through the council is a pain, even for royalty. I’m surprised they let you obtain a learners license without too much fuss. Though you should be cautious about any interactions with Councillor Allen. He was not happy when he heard the Prince invited you to his school,” Remy chuckled.

“He wouldn’t really be able to do anything against me, would he?”

“With how you won the favour of his highness and Lady Silvia, not a chance. But you will need to be careful. Now that you’re practising magic, you will be interacting with nobility, and any mistakes made in their world can mean an end to your reputation and career.”

“I don’t know if I would do much socialising.”

“Kid, you are the first-ever wizard to come from a commonwealth household. Nobles are going to find a way to meet you and they’ll either see you as an opportunity or an opponent.”

“Opportunity?”

“You already caught the notice of the Crown Prince. They’ll want to take advantage of that. And at the same time, they might see that as a problem since you’re getting his attention over them.”

“I’ve never even met him.”

“They won’t care. They may even believe you have anyway.”

Logan frowned. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

Remy nodded. “Yeah, but if you need anything then you can just ask.”

“Does social standing fall under your teaching duties?”

“Nope. But I don’t mind helping people, and honestly, I think that you have something… special. You’re forging a path for others who may want to learn magic themselves. I think that’s worth investing in.”

“So, this isn’t for anything like points with my dad?”

Remy laughed. “While that seems like a benefit, I truly didn’t think of it before you said something.”

Shortly after that conversation, the carriage came to the silver gates of the Srednas Estate. The driveway was paved with white stones and went all the way up to the large manor house which was built of brilliant dark wood and stone bricks. It looked to Logan like a small castle, with even a tower on the left side that stretched high above even the forest trees.

The carriage stopped just outside of the enormous front door, and Logan found himself staring up in awe as he followed Remy out.

“Well, I believe we are the last to arrive. Follow me to the classroom. The others should be waiting there for us.”

Logan followed Remy down the halls. When they finally arrived at their destination, Logan noted that there were seven small desks set in a sort of semi-circle. They were all facing one large desk with a big chalkboard behind it. As Remy had predicted, the other six students already occupied the room.

Two elves were sitting together by the two desks far left, talking about something animatedly to one another. They looked similar, with broad shoulders, long dark curly hair, and almond tanned skin. Their eyes however set them apart from one another, the one on the left having bright green eyes while the others were deep red.

Sitting on the desk of the red-eyed elf was a water sprite with a kind smile. He had a petit build, bright brown eyes and messy blonde hair with small variously coloured flowers braided in. His skin was a peachy hue apart from the blue-green splotches that identified them as being a sprite.

Standing by one of the large windows in the back of the room were two students. One a demi-wolf, the other a Dragonborn. The Dragonborn stood with an air of confidence and superiority. Paired with the scales that covered the right half of their face, they seemed quite intimidating. Their eyes were mismatched, the left one a normal brown while the right one was bright yellow with a black slitted pupil. Their blonde hair was nearly completely hidden by their ivy cap.

In comparison, their demi-human companion seemed rather timid or perhaps on edge, if their body language was anything to go by. Their tail hung low, slowly swinging side to side, and their wolf ears were focused forward, listening intently to the Dragonborn’s words, while their deep brown eyes glanced routinely around the room and out the window.

On the other side of the room, by a bookshelf full of large tomes, stood the last student. He was slender and pale, with black hair that faded into dark purple and hung slightly in his stormy grey eyes. He was leaning with his back against the shelves, eyes focused on the pages of the book in his hands, at least until Remy and Logan had entered. At that moment, the boy looked up through his fringe and focused his stormy eyes on Logan.

For a moment Logan felt frozen. Those eyes seemed to be reading him like a book. Searching his very soul for… something. But the feeling only lasted a moment as the boy looked back down at his book with a thoughtful frown. How peculiar.

“Okay, everyone, take a seat. Preferably at the provided chairs.” Remy said as he turned to take his own seat behind the large desk facing the semi-circle.

The sprite hopped off the elf’s desk and sat at the desk beside them. The Dragonborn took the next seat, and the demi-wolf sat beside them. The boy at the bookshelf returned his book to its place then sat at the desk on the far right. Leaving a seat for Logan between the boy and the demi-human, which he promptly took.

“Alright, class. I don’t expect you to become best friends or anything, but we are a small group so I hope you will at the very least get along with each other. For that, you’ll probably need to know each other, so we’re going to go around and introduce ourselves. I’ll start. I’m your teacher, Remy Ainmosni, my pronouns are he/him, and don’t worry this is not alcohol,” Remy said as he gestured to his flask. “Who wants to go next?”

“Oh, me!” The sprite said excitedly, jumping up. “Hi, I’m Patton Lilyhart, I use he/him, and I’m excited to get to know you all.”

Remy nodded. “I like the energy. Who wants to continue?”

“I shall.” The green-eyed elf declared, standing up from his seat with a confidant and regal air. “My name is Roman Elvar Goldheart Arthur Leafstone, and my pronouns are he/him. I am the eldest son of Lady Leafstone and heir of the Lyrecrest Ilse.”

“An impressive introduction, Roman, but next time you can just say your name is Roman Leafstone, we don’t need your full given name,” Remy commented, then gestured to the other elf. “Your turn.”

The red-eyed elf stood, though she held herself with a more casual air and wrapped an arm around Roman’s shoulders. “Sup, I’m Remus, he/him or she/her, and this is my less-handsome twin.”

“You’re wrinkling my cape,” Roman complained, only to have Remus stick out her tongue at him.

Remy nodded with an amused smile. “Okay, snake eye, you’re up.”

“I am not a snake,” the not-half-snake hissed. “My name is Janus Embyrn, they/them, and I am a Dragonborn.”

“Good for you, snake eye. What about you, Wolfie?” Remy asked, completely ignoring the fiery rage burning in Janus’s eyes.

“My name is Willow, um, Redrunner.”

“Are you sure?” Remus asked. “Cause you don’t seem so confident about that.”

Willow shuffled nervously in their seat. “I- well… you see- uh-”

“Demi-humans don’t use last names,” Logan declared.

Willow nodded gratefully at him. “Yeah, but if needed then we use the name of our pack. I hail from the Redrunner pack and use she/they pronouns.”

Remy nodded then turned his attention to Logan and the stormy eyed boy. “Okay, which of you two wants to go?”

“I’m Virgil Tempest, he/him,” the boy declared.

They all waited a moment for him to say more, but he simply gestured for Logan to go. Logan made a mental note of that and then cleared his throat.

“My name is Logan Picani and I also use he/him pronouns.”

Patton gasped. “Oh my gosh, you’re the star guy! Right?”

“If you are referring to the spells I cast at the license test, then yes that is me.”

Roman huffed. “Anyone could have done that.”

“Well, if they knew the spells, then yes,” Logan agreed.

“He’s just jealous of the grand show you made of it,” Remus chuckled.

“I am not jealous.”

“Oh, then why are your eyes so green?”

“They’re naturally this colour, idiot.”

“Ah, but not in such a poisonous shade.”

“Let’s not fight,” Patton intervened. “You did very well on your presentation Roman.”

“Thank you, Pat, but I am still not and have never been jealous. Especially of a human.”

“Watch your words, elf,” Janus growled. “You wouldn’t want us to think you’re racist.”

Roman glared darkly at them but was interrupted by Remy before he could reply. “Never mind presentations, and races, and titles, none of those things matter here so there’s no need to discuss them. All of you were chosen with equal faith in your abilities as competent mages who could better the kingdom. I hope you can appreciate this opportunity and act civil with each other for the duration of your time here.”

Everyone was silent but Logan could practically see sparks of violent tension between Roman and Janus. They were going to be a problem for each other but with any luck, they wouldn’t pull the rest of the class down with them. Logan doubted he had that much luck, but he hoped anyway.

“Now, the rules are as follows,” Remy continued, ignoring the tense atmosphere. “Firstly, you are to stay on school grounds, unless permitted by myself to leave. Secondly, lessons will take place in the late morning and early afternoon, whatever you do outside of that time is up to you. So long as it doesn’t interfere with classes then I don’t care what you do. You’re old enough to watch yourselves, and I am not a babysitter, so I expect you to keep out of trouble for the most part. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner will be served in the dining hall, food is allowed outside of these hours, but not permitted inside of your rooms. Speaking of your rooms, you may decorate them as you like, but please remember to keep them moderately tidy as the cleaning staff will only come through once a week-”

“Once a week?”

“That’s what I said, Roman.”

“Do you expect our beds to go unmade for that long?”

Remy shrugged. “I would hope you could at least do that for yourselves. You’re not infants after all.”

Roman opened his mouth to protest further but was cut off by Janus. “What food is to be served, exactly?”

“Not sure. You can inquire with the chef for a menu and tell them of any dietary requirements too. If and when you interact with the estate staff, I expect you to be polite and respectful towards them. Any questions?”

“Can we explore the garden?” Patton asked.

Remy smiled. “Yes. The estate is yours to explore, apart from the tower.”

Remus’s eyes shone with curiosity. “What’s in the tower?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with. If that’s all, then I think I ought to show you all to your rooms to get yourselves settled in.”

Remy got up and walked to the door, not waiting to see if anyone followed him. Roman rose in a dignified manner and went after him with Remus walking beside him. Patton practically skipped behind them and Janus followed with their own nonchalant air and Willow beside them. Virgil got up too and looked over to Logan for a split second, almost like he wanted to say something, but decided against it.

It was barely the beginning of his first day and Logan already felt that this was going to be a stressful time. He really had no idea how he was going to navigate interacting with all these people. He didn’t have to do that when he was independently studying before. By accepting this chance he was entering a whole new world.

And he was more than ready to conquer it.

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Sunset Swerve - Part 2

Pairing: Luke x OC

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: one character has a panic attack, mentions of death (specifically death of self and death of family members)

A/N: Here’s part two! We’re still in episode 2 but I had some more things I needed to establish about Jordan before we could get to the Bright performance and I’m kinda liking the shorter chapters for this. Let me know what you think and send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged!

Part 1  Masterlist

___

“Why are you in a cemetery?” Alex asked when he finally found Jordan.

The dark-haired girl was sitting on the ground facing away from him with her knees pulled up to her chest.

“I was hoping my grave would absorb me so I wouldn’t have to deal with whatever the hell this is.” She didn’t even turn to acknowledge the boy’s arrival, her eyes still trained on the tombstone in front of her.

“Huh,” Alex said under his breath, lost for words. “I figured you’d, like, go to your parents’ house or something, someplace familiar. We went to the Orpheum our first night.”

“That’s kinda depressing,” Jordan remarked, her tone emotionless as she stared straight ahead.

“Says the girl literally sitting on her grave.”

Jordan cracked a smile at that.

“There’s room for two if you don’t mind getting your pants dirty,” she offered, shifting her bag to the side to make room. “Is that even possible anymore?”

Alex shook his head, taking a seat beside her, arms wrapped around his knees as he mirrored her position. “Reggie sat in the sand at the beach today and didn’t have any issues.”

Jordan sighed, “Well, I guess that’s one pro to being a ghost, no sand where sand shouldn’t be.”

Alex laughed and Jordan turned her head slightly to look at him.

“So they sent you, huh?”

“Nah,” Alex breathed, “I volunteered.”

Jordan cocked her head, looking at him fully now. “Why?”

“I don’t know…. You just seemed overwhelmed and I figured Luke wasn’t gonna help any.”

Jordan nodded, turning back towards her tombstone. It was unnerving to look at, her name carved into the stone even though she was still walking, talking, living. At least that’s what it felt like, but she knew that six feet below her was her body, probably very decomposed by now and oh my god- Jordan started to shake, her thoughts becoming more panicked.

“Woah, hey, Jordan are you okay?” Alex asked, alarmed by the sudden change in her demeanor. Her breaths were becoming shorter and more frequent and she was practically vibrating with the way she was shaking.

She shook her head in response to Alex’s question, unable to tear her eyes away from her name. “I can’t breathe she gasped,” which only caused more panic from her. “Ghosts can’t breathe, why-“ A sob wracked through her, cutting her off.

“We gotta get you out of here,” Alex muttered, wrapping his arms around her and poofing them out.

They landed with a light thud on the floor of the garage and Alex pulled himself away from the now crying girl.

“Okay, Jordan, can you look at me?” Alex asked softly, moving to sit cross-legged in front of her. “Okay, let’s do a breathing square, yeah? Breathe in on the up, breathe out on the down, and hold in between okay?”

He started drawing slow squares in the air with his finger and repeating the instructions as he went. It was a couple of minutes still before the girl’s breaths became somewhat regular.

“Good, okay. Now name five things you can see.”

“Rug, coffee table, piano, you, window.” She answered through shaky breaths.

“Alright now four things you can feel?”

“I can’t feel anything!” She snapped, panic starting to well up again.

“Hey, hey, that’s not true,” Alex soothed, placing his hand in hers. “You can feel me, right?”

Jordan nodded and took another shaky breath before continuing.

“Okay, um, you, the ground, I can feel my shoes? And my bag?” She said unsure.

“Yeah, it doesn’t make much sense but yeah,” Alex affirmed. “Three things you can hear?”

“You, the air conditioning, and myself.” She answered faster and more confidently.

“Two things you can smell.”

“Uh, fret polish and dust.”

“Good. One thing you can taste.”

“I don’t know what the inside of my mouth tastes like right now but I’m glad it’s not poisonous hot dogs.” She answered, letting out a genuine sigh of relief.

Alex smiled.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked after a moment, lightly squeezing the hand that he was still holding.

“Uh, better. Still kinda shaky.” Jordan laughed awkwardly, pulling her hand away to play with the hair ties around her other wrist. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing.” Alex waved it off and Jordan rolled her eyes. “I get it, y’know? I mean, I cried for twenty-five years. That’s one hell of a breakdown.”

Jordan laughed for real at that and Alex joined in, the pair sharing an understanding smile.

“Oh hey, you’re back!” Reggie exclaimed as he poofed back into the garage, “Ooh, are we sitting on the floor?” He gasped excitedly before plopping down next to the pair.

Jordan tilted her head and narrowed her eyes curiously at the boy. The three of them sat in silence for a minute, Jordan and Alex staring at Reggie while the dark-haired boy grinned contently.

“So, why are we sitting on the floor?” Reggie finally asked, breaking the silence and Alex sighed while Jordan barked out a laugh.

“We just felt like it,” she lied and Reggie shrugged, seemingly content with that answer. “Where’s Luke?”

“I dunno,” Reggie shrugged. “He left a little bit after you guys did.”

Jordan nodded and stood up, dusting off her pants before remembering she didn’t have to do that anymore, and headed for the door with Alex following suit.

“Wait, where are you going?” Reggie questioned, not quite catching on as he scrambled to his feet.

“Seriously man?” Alex raised his eyebrows at the other boy.

“Ohhh, to find Luke, right,” Reggie realized and Alex rolled his eyes following Jordan through the garage door.

Jordan turned around as she stepped through the door, thinking decidedly that she’d need to get used to that because it was really weird. In her distraction, she had stopped paying attention to where she was going and ended up walking right into the boy she was looking for.

As she stumbled backward, her hands reached out for something to grab onto, landing on his shoulders while his arm instinctively grabbed her waist, pulling her against his chest. Jordan was certain they’d never been this close to each other before and as she looked up at his face she could see the rings of gold around his pupils, the creases around his eyes and mouth from smiling, the slight dryness of chapped lips. When her gaze returned to his eyes she found them peering into her own and she swallowed roughly at the intensity of his gaze.

After what felt like an eternity but was realistically only a few seconds, Luke cleared his throat, averting his eyes and stepping away from Jordan and she did the same, trying desperately to fight the heat in her cheeks.

“Oh, hey! You found Luke!” Reggie exclaimed as he and Alex stepped out of the garage.

“Uh, yeah! He just got back?” Jordan responded, looking anywhere but at Luke as she stepped further away.

“Yeah, sorry about just disappearing,” Luke apologized. “I just needed some air.”

Reggie nodded, accepting the excuse at face value but Alex looked between the two skeptically, clearly noticing something that Reggie hadn’t.

“I wonder what Ray is up to today?” Reggie thought aloud, his mind clearly having wandered.

“Who’s Ray?” Jordan asked Alex in a whisper, watching as Reggie stared thoughtfully at the home.

“It’s Julie’s dad,” Alex answered and Jordan just looked more confused.

“Okay, who’s Julie?” She asked, brows raised expectantly.

“Oh, right! She’s the girl who brought us back. She can see us,” Alex summarized quickly and Jordan nodded.

“And her family lives here now?” She asked, gathering up the context clues and Alex nodded.

“So when do I get to meet her?”

“Uh, well, she’s at school right now,” Alex explained.

“She’s trying to get back into her music program,” Luke added in, and Jordan jumped slightly, not expecting the boy to interact with her. “That girl is wicked talented.”

The boys began to explain the rest to her as they followed Reggie who had started wandering up to the house.

Somehow they had ended up in Julie’s bedroom, the four ghosts scattered around the immaculately decorated space.

“You understand that this is incredibly invasive, right?” Jordan questioned as she sat in the corner while the guys poked and prodded through Julie’s bedroom.

Jordan hadn’t met the girl yet, but she was pretty sure she wouldn’t want them in her room, especially not trying to rifle through her belongings like Luke was.

“She said we could stay here,” Luke defended, climbing up on a stool to get a closer look at one of Julie’s shelves.

“She said you could be in her bedroom and go through all her stuff?” Jordan asked skeptically, crossing her arms over her chest and raising a brow to express her disbelief.

“Well… We…” Luke fumbled and Jordan rolled her eyes.

“So you have no excuse.”

“What? don’t tell me you’re not curious,”

“Curious? Yes. Rude? No.” Jordan quipped and Luke rolled his eyes.

Fortunately, before the two could get into another fight, the door opened and a girl who couldn’t have been much younger than any of them walked in. Based on the photos placed around the room and the context of their location Jordan assumed it must’ve been Julie.

“What are you guys doing in my room?” She gasped, clearly angry and Jordan smirked at Luke triumphantly.

The guys all started speaking with various “Umm’s” and ‘Uhhh’s” all trying to come up with an excuse before Luke, frozen in place atop the ottoman, said, “We were looking for the kitchen.”

Jordan rolled her eyes at the terrible excuse and Julie did the same.

“This… This can’t happen, it’s creepy,” Julie said, staring pointedly at the boys as she waved her fingers, before adding to Reggie, “Get off my bed please.”

As Reggie scrambled off of the bed Luke turned the attention back to himself as he raised his hand, “Hey Julie, what’s in the box?”

“That’s off-limits.”

“Oh, okay, girl stuff,” Luke replied, smiling as if he understood and Reggie jumped in excitedly,

“Ooh, like butterflies and glitter?”

“Oh c’mon,” Alex groaned.

“You guys are idiots,” Jordan stated at the same time, rolling her eyes.

“Woah! Who said you could invite ghost friends to my house?” The girl exclaimed, apparently just noticing Jordan’s presence.

“Well, we didn’t invite her exactly,” Alex started before Luke took over.

“We kinda summoned her this morning while you were at school.” He lifted his hands as if to say ‘oops?’ “Like how you accidentally summoned us yesterday.”

“You summoned a ghostly stranger to my house?!” Julie exclaimed, becoming gradually more heated.

“Jordan isn’t a stranger!” Reggie piped up, “She died with us!”

“So how come she didn’t come back with you guys?”

“Cause I wasn’t part of Dumb-set Curve,” Jordan answered and Luke glared at her for mocking their band.

“At least we were better than Asshole 81,” He shot back and Alex and Reggie sighed.

“Real clever,” Jordan scoffed, “How long have you been holding onto that one? Twenty-five years?”

“They’ve kinda always had this rivalry,” Alex explained to Julie as Luke and Jordan continued to bicker in the background. “Jordan was the leader of our rival band, Apollo 81.”

Julie sighed, mumbling a sarcastic “Great,” as she watched the two, their faces now inches away from one another as they hurled insults back and forth.

“Hey! I picked something up!” Alex said excitedly, effectively gaining everyone’s attention as he walked towards the bed, picture frame in his hands before his concentration slipped and it fell, landing softly on Julie’s comforter. “I dropped it.”

“Is that your mom?” Luke asked, leaning over Alex to get a look at the photo.

“Yes, and it’s my favorite picture of us so if you break it, I’ll break you.” Julie threatened, snatching the frame up from the bed and placing it on her nightstand.

“Okay, well, sorry cause we’re kinda unbreakable at this point,” Alex pointed out.

“I don’t get it, you guys can mess up my bed, pick up your instruments, but you can’t pick up other stuff?”

“I know, right? It’s hard, but for some reason our instruments are easy.” Luke elaborated and Jordan frowned thoughtfully, all of this new information to her.

“Yeah, super easy! Check out what I learned today!” Reggie said, standing excitedly only to fall back down as his bass appeared on top of him.

“I’m sorry, we can summon our instruments?” Jordan asked incredulously.

The guys all nodded, Reggie explaining that you just had to wish for it. Jordan closed her eyes, concentration on the first instrument of hers she could think of. She gasped at the impact as suddenly she was gripping her electric cello.

“You play the cello?” Julie asked, sounding confused.

“I was classically trained,” Jordan explained, “But when we started Apollo 81 I taught myself electric, amongst other instruments. We were working on incorporating the cello into some of our songs before I, y’know…”

“What other instruments can you play?” Julie asked curiously and Luke groaned.

“Ignore him, he’s just upset because he knows I’m more talented than he is,” Jordan waved the boy off and Luke glared.

“Just because you can play more instruments than me doesn’t make you more talented,” He spoke, “Quantity doesn’t trump quality.”

Jordan just rolled her eyes before turning back to Julie, “I can play just about every string instrument you can name - I grew up taking violin lessons before moving on to cello. I can also play piano and in middle school band I played the saxophone.”

“Wow, that’s impressive,” Julie nodded and Jordan smiled at the praise.

Luke huffed, reclaiming the room’s attention as he stepped back onto the ottoman.

“Julie,” he whined, gesturing to the box.

“Oh my gosh, I thought I told you to leave that alone!” The girl exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest sternly.

“I know, and you should’ve just said nothing cause now I can’t stop thinking about it, so… What’s in the box, Julie?”

“It’s just my dream box, okay!” She gave in. “Whenever I get a thought or something, I write it down and get it out of my mind.”

“Like lyrics?”

“They would be if I still wrote music like I used to with my mom,” Julie sighed, looking down to avoid their eyes. “Now it’s just full of stuff that doesn’t make me sad.”

“But you do play,” Alex said and Julie snapped her head up to stare at him. “We heard you this morning.”

Jordan narrowed her eyes in confusion, having not been “alive” (for lack of a better word) that morning.

“In the garage?!”

Luke jumped down from the ottoman to hit Alex’s shoulder, silently admonishing him for revealing that information.

“You were there?”

The guys once again stumbled for a response, their voice shooting up an octave or two.

“So, where is your kitchen, by the way?” Luke asked, diving onto the bed and staring up at Julie, doing his best to distract her.

“Okay,” she began, leaning down to meet his eye level. “We need to set some boundaries. For starters, stay out of my room!” She said angrily, pointing towards the door and the guys stumbled over each other to leave.

Jordan paused before she walked out, something on her mind as she examined the girl in front of her.

“Can I ask what happened to your mom?” She asked softly, “It’s okay if its too personal-“

“No, it’s fine, the guys already know,” Julie waved her off, sighing sadly, “She passed a year ago.”

Jordan bobbed her head slightly to herself at the answer. “I’m really sorry, it sounds like she meant a lot to you.”

Julie nodded, “She did.”

“I know how hard that can be,” Jordan opened up, “If you ever need someone to talk to I’m here.”

She didn’t stay any longer, not wanting to make things awkward. When she walked through the door she ran straight into Alex who had apparently turned back around. Jordan flushed, eyes widening as she wondered if he had heard any of their conversation but he looked just as surprised to see her still there as she did him. She gave him a tight-lipped smile before poofing back to the garage.

___

Part 3

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Chapter 4 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter four 

 ~|Emily Fox|~

“Guess what I did this weekend?” I ask Madison excitedly when I see her at her locker on Monday morning. She stares at me, blinking a few times. She did not expect me to be this excited on Monday morning. “You rode an elephant?” she asks when she realizes I won’t continue until she guesses. “Don’t ever ride elephants. They’re not made to do that,” I tell her off, “No, I finished writing my song!” Madison’s eyes widen before an excited squeal leaves her mouth. Now we’re getting weird looks from other students, wondering why the hell we’d be so excited on Monday morning. “Let me hear!” she shouts loudly, but I quickly dim the fire inside her eyes by shaking my head. “I still need to tweak it a little, but I think it might actually have potential,” I say. Madison pouts. “I’m sorry, Mads. I promise you, I’ll let you hear it once I pick up the courage to ask someone to duet this with me.” “Like on TikTok?” she asks, visibly confused. “No, I think it might sound better as a duet. I sang like part of it with this Charlie dude at the Music Store.” Madison’s eyebrows rise whilst her eyes widen. “Who’s Charlie?” she asks, the bell nearly ringing out her voice. The two of us make our way to class together. “The Cute Douchebag I told you about?” “You never said he was cute…” “I’m telling you now. He kept coming back to play this one guitar in the store to escape from his parents and I let him while I cleaned up the place. And then on Saturday, he suddenly started singing this verse that fit perfectly what I already had. It sounded amazing, Mads. Our voices blend really, really well together.” I take in a deep breath and release it into a sigh. “Mmh… Cute Douchebag Charlie serenades you and you turn it into a duet… Sounds like the start of a great Romantic movie,” she thinks about it for a moment, “I’d watch that.” “I’m going to put your feet back on the floor, Madison, because nothing’s ever going to happen between Charlie and me.” I can’t hide the smile tugging at my lips though, and I think Madison has seen it too as one of the corners of her mouth curls up into a smirk. “Mmh-mmh…” she hums and before I can bring anything else in, she dips into her classroom, leaving me all alone to find my way to the room next door where I have my first class. Let’s pray today goes by fast. Which only works by constantly imagining what it would be like to show Charlie the song I wrote with his verse added to it and what it would be like if we sung it together. I wonder if he’ll be at the store tonight and if he is, do I immediately tell him I’ve finished the song? Or do I wait until I’ve perfected it? Or do I—I can’t even finish my thought when the bell rings, signaling lunch time. Halfway through.

“Dreaming about mister Cutie Pie?” Madison’s voice startles me as I stand in line for lunch. “Hell, Madi. Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?” She gives me her most mischievous grin. “So, you’re not denying that you were dreaming about mister Cutie Pie?” “No,” she raises her eyebrows, “I mean, no I wasn’t dreaming about him because he’s still a douchebag.” I take a sandwich from the canteen lady. “A very cute Douchebag,” Madison wiggles her eyebrows. “How do you know he’s cute?” I ask as we move towards the fridges for some soda. “You told me. And I found him on Instagram.” She reaches in her bag for her phone whilst we head towards the table we always sit at. “How did you find him on Instagram?” I ask her, sitting down and taking the phone from her to look at his photos. Some of them look really cool and artsy, most of them with his guitar, whether that be electric or acoustic. “I checked the Music Store’s Instagram and looked through their followers and found about fifteen Charlies, but none of them as cute as this one.” I glance up at the handle at the top of his page. Charles_Gillespie. Gillespie? That’s a very unique last name. “You should be in the FBI, Mads,” I tell her and find myself scrolling through all of his pictures. “I mean, it’s no rocket science, babes,” she shrugs off her FBI-abilities. I shake my head at her, and then deep-dive into the wondrous world of Charlie Gillespie’s Instagram. Those eyes. They seem more golden in real life than they do in the pictures on here. And that smile. In one photo, he has like a really lazy smile on his face, but it looks so freakishly adorable that I nearly melt on the spot. “Someone has a crush!” Madison sings into my ear. “I do not,” I sound way more offended than I intended to. “Okay, fine. You do not. But when you stop being in denial, I’ll be here to tell you ‘told you so’,” Madison tells me sassily. I so want to say something to that, but I’m stumped. And too distracted by Charlie’s Instagram. I’m so distracted I even forget to eat and only leaves me with five minutes left to eat an entire sandwich. I shake my head at myself, disgusted by my own thoughts. This boy.

“Heading to work?” Madison asks me when she meets me at my locker after the final bell. “Yep, have to lock up again and work on my song,” I tell her, shutting my locker and shouldering my bag. “Do you think he’ll be there again?” I chuckle, “It would surprise me if he wasn’t. He’s been at the store every day since the day I met him.” Madison raises her eyebrows again. That’s how she looks at me a lot lately. “Someone has a crush on you.” That mischievous grin appears on her face again, and it just makes me shake my head disapprovingly, but I can’t help but smile too. The thought of him having a crush on me disgusts me and makes me feel all giddy inside at the same time. “Yeah, sure,” I say, “See you tomorrow, Madi,” I wave at her, leaving her behind at the school to make my way to the Music Store, where, to no surprise of mine, I find Charlie at the guitars again. He doesn’t even notice me walking in. “There’s only one customer left,” Ash tells me, “He’s been here a lot, hasn’t he?” “What? No? This surely is the first time I see him,” I reply, not being able to hide the sarcasm. “Just lock up when you’re done,” she says throwing me the keys before hopping across the counter. She���s the only person who could ever do that so smoothly. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” she yells over her shoulder and rushes away before I can come up with a good comeback. Completely leaving Charlie to his devices, I begin sweeping up the place. Scattered sheet music goes back in its place, dropped food wrappers are being picked up and thrown away, misplaced instruments go back into their place. I’m nearly done when I hear Charlie cough behind me. “Ah, Charles. Didn’t see you there,” I say when I turn around to face him. “Well, yeah… People tell me I can be very quiet,” he replies awkwardly. I hardly believe that. He’s the most obnoxious person I have ever met. “I wanted to ask; did you finish that song we sang the other day? I really liked it and I thought maybe if you’d finished it, we could sing it together?” My eyes widen at the mention of the song. Should I tell him the truth? “Uhm, no, I haven’t finished it yet.” The lie rolls off my lips before I can stop it. “Great! I actually had this idea for a verse last night,” he reaches into the pocket of his skinny jeans and a piece of folded up paper appears. “I think it would sound good as a bridge.” He unfolds the paper as he says it and then places it on top of the piano wing, reaching just past me. I get a whiff of his deodorant and aftershave. A blend of minty fresh and musky undertones. I realize it’s my favorite scent in the world. “I feel your rhythm in my heart, yeah You are my brightest, burning star, woah-woah I never knew a love so real We're heaven on earth, melody and words When we are together we're” He looks up at me every now and again when he’s singing. And all it does is cause hurricanes in my mind and the rhythm of my heart quickening. “And then it goes back into the chorus you wrote,” he finishes, breaking our eye contact once again. “Because, you know, that was really good.” He awkwardly coughs again. His eyes pleadingly looking up at me from underneath the strands of hair. That’s when I realize he isn’t wearing the beanie I’ve seen him with so many times. His brown locks lay messily across his head, but it creates a rougher look, which works for him. “Yeah, okay, thanks, Charles,” I say, recomposing and returning to the tougher façade I’m used to putting up around him. “You done? I need to clean up.” I point around the room to emphasize my lie. The room is entirely clean, I just need to get out of the situation. “Why are you pushing this away, Emily?” The question takes me aback a bit. “It’s obvious we’re supposed to write this song together. With both our ideas and creativity together, we can create so many amazing songs. This is meant to be, Emily. Why can’t you see that?” I’m not entirely sure what he means by ‘meant to be’. We are? Or as a band? Or a singer-songwriter-duo? I don’t even have the time to ask him, because he’s already turned around and making his way to the door. “I write alone,” I tell him quickly, causing him to freeze with his hand on the doorknob. He looks back at me with those pleading puppy eyes. “So, whatever you think is meant to be, it’s not going to happen.” He simply nods his head at that. “Good to know.” For the rest of that night, I wonder if that’s going to be the last I hear of him.

Even Uncle Mitch can tell something’s wrong when I’m in the kitchen making myself some food after my shift. He stares at me with those worried green eyes of his and sits down across from me at the table. “You want to vent?” he simply asks, which he knows is enough for me to break. I take a deep breath, wondering where to begin in this story and what to leave out for my old Uncle’s sake. “There’s this boy—” before I can continue, he jumps up. “Who do I need to chase down?” he tries to sound tough, but Uncle Mitch is the gayest of all the gays. He’s not afraid to show off his more feminine side. But in situations like this, when he pretends to be all tough dad and everything, it’s just kind of endearing. Because that’s not at all who he is. “No one, Uncle Mitch.” He slowly sits back down and lets me continue, propping his head onto his hand, elbow resting on the tabletop. “This boy always comes into the Music Store during my shifts. He either has this excuse to be there, buying picks or strings or polish or whatever, and one night he asked if he could stay and play some guitar whilst I clean up because he wanted to escape his parents,” I take a deep breath, remembering what my parents told me when I said what college I wanted to go to. “I couldn’t say no to that, could I?” Uncle Mitch hums with a small smile on his face. “So then he sang part of a song he wrote and it kind of matched with the song I was writing, so I sang along with him, and then we sang the chorus together and our voices match really well and they blend so beautifully and I bet you would’ve gotten goosebumps, Uncle Mitch,” he chuckles at that, “And today he came up with a bridge for the song and he sang it to me and it was perfect and I kind of shook him off. I should’ve told him how beautiful it was, but I didn’t.” I sniffle, tears pooling in my eyes, and I’m not even sure why. “And then he asked why I pushed him away because we’re meant to write songs together and I don’t disagree with him but…” I trail off as sobs take over my body. “But you can’t write songs with anyone else but your Uncle Bobby,” Uncle Mitch finishes, his voice sounds closer suddenly. When I wipe away the tears, I feel his arms snake around my body. All I can do is place my hands on his, and softly cry as he speaks. “I know it’s hard, Muffin, but you have to know that your Uncle Bobby wouldn’t want you to stop making music. He’d tell you to go for it if he heard how well the two of you work together. I think you know he’d want you to work with this cute boy.” “I never said he was cute,” I chuckle between the sniffles. “You’re crying at the dining table about a boy. If he’s not cute, I don’t know what you’re crying about.” He lets go of me and assesses me from a distance. I look up at him. “He’s cute right?” I nod my head. “I’ve taught you well.” He presses a kiss to my head and makes his way out of the kitchen. “I don’t know what to tell him when I see him again though? If I ever see him again.” “Just make sure your song is finished and show him what you’ve made of it. Then he’ll realize you’ve changed your mind.” I nod my head, taking in all the advice. “And I’m sure you’ll see him again, Muffin. You’re a catch.” He winks at me before completely disappearing out of the kitchen. “It’s creepy when you say that!” I shout after him before turning back to my food. “But it’s not when Cutie from the Music Store says it!” I hear him faintly somewhere in the house. Uncle Mitch is the best person in the entire world. I wouldn’t know what to do with him. Mom and dad wouldn’t know what to tell me in a situation like this. Dad would probably hunt Charlie down and mom would tell me I wasn’t ready for a relationship with a boy. Thank Heaven’s for Uncle Mitch. The light in the darkest dark. He’ll shine bright forever.  

Taglist: @parkeret​ @lukeys-giggle​

Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

[gophergal]

A/N: SO, this is the Michael Myers x OC story rewrite I was telling y’all about! I started it in August of 2019 around the time I started this blog. The only warning for this chapter I can think of is home invasion. I would also like to thank @bucketofcowboys for beta reading this for me. I <3 you, dude!

I’m Not Lonely - Chapter One

Word count: 2000+| Rating: M |  Michael Myers x OC | M/F

Houses passing by slowly drift farther apart as the car bulleted forward on the empty road out of town. Clouds overhead obscured the moon and stars that Jean loved so dearly. Instead, the world was masked in inky blackness, save for the headlights and few porch lights left on by the sleepy residents inside. Beyond that, there was nothing, just the varying shades of black that made up the road, trees, and sky. It was a quiet night, Halloween night, she reminded herself. Seems that if you have no kids to take trick or treating and no parties to get drunk at that Halloween is just a date on the calendar. A block of black up ahead drew closer. It was her home, the house she'd inherited when her grandfather passed away. The old man had always been taken good care of her and, even after death, still kept that up.

“Thirteen dead and two injured tonight after a killing spree perpetrated, possibly, by an escaped patient of Smith's Grove Sanitarium. The suspect, one Michael Audrey Myers, is thought to have been caught in an explosion at Haddonfield Memorial Hospital, though police urge residents of the surrounding area to remain cautious until further notice,” the radio droned as Jean tiredly pulled her car into the driveway. Jean shook her head, dirty blond locks sweeping across her face as she frowned. The world's really gone downhill when things like this happen every day, she thought, or maybe I just never noticed how cruel it can be.

A shiver ran down her spine as she thought about the madman running amok, murdering innocents. Mentally, she slapped herself. Keep your cool, Jean. No way could a loony like that evade capture for long. Hell, he might even be lost in the woods, looking around wildly as coyotes sized him up for a meal. He was probably dead, or at least would  wish he were. She couldn't be losing her head over something the police could handle. She was safe here. That name though- It sounded familiar.  

The moon was already high in the sky when she finally pulled open her front door, kicked off her shoes on the mat, and shrugged her coat off, stretching the stiff muscles of her shoulders. It had been a late shift. That was never a problem for Jean though. She didn't have anyone waiting for her at home and everyone knew it, so she was a good choice for late nights. Not that she minded. Jolene, her co worker, liked to lecture to her about getting out there and “catching herself a man”. Well, to Jean, dating was a tiresome and pointless game, and it wasn't like she had a line of suitors waiting to sweep her off her feet. Keys clinked in the dish where they were set and Jean ran a hand through her hair, her body rapidly growing heavy with exhaustion as the day caught up to her. Thinking back on it, she'd never been very popular. No problem though. Popularity didn't matter if you didn't want it to, and Jean was perfectly happy on her own.

She slipped by the kitchen, grabbing first for an apple then, remembering granddad's lectures about “eating heartily and eating well”, prepared a sandwich instead. Lazily she took a bite, too tired to care about how it tasted. Without thought, she flipped on the radio. For a moment she stood in front of the table, knowing very well that getting ready for sleep would zap what was left of her dwindling supply of energy, but not wanting to go to bed. She would have time to read a book if she put off brushing her teeth. She'd recently gotten a copy of that book Jolene recommended to her. Some horror story about a hotel. The Shining, she thought it was called. Jo seemed to like it quite a bit, but Jean had never been a big fan of horror. She often found the protagonists a bit stupid and would reluctantly admit to being easily spooked by those kind of stories. Still, she'd wanted to give it a chance, but hadn't yet had a chance to start reading it.

With the last crumb of bread stuffed into her mouth, she grabbed her pen and pad of paper to jot down a note to buy more bread. Tomorrow would be a good day for laundry and relaxation, she thought. Sunny and warm according to the forecast, as much as early November can be. It would be a good day off, she decided. She finally surrendered to her exhaustion, the need for sleep driving her through her routine. She only briefly stopped to look in the mirror, examining the dark circles under her eyes. She sighed, flopping into bed unceremoniously and snuggling into the soft covers. Exhaustion overtook her and the comforting dark arms of sleep came easily.

THUMP. Jean bolted upright, panic flooding her veins as she became aware of her surroundings. A stone sunk in her guts as she realized that she could not remember locking the door. She groped beneath the bed for the baseball bat she kept for home defense. She cursed herself silently for not taking granddad up on his offer for shooting lessons all those years ago, Her nerves were not calmed as she slid her hand over the smooth wood of her weapon. She had a white knuckle grip on the bat to keep her hands from shaking as she padded silently down the stairs, avoiding the creaky last step with practiced ease. She kept to the wall as she entered the living room, her terror striking her mute as she beheld the sight before her. Upon her couch, covered in blood and soot, lay a strange man, the ragged rise and fall of his chest her only indication that he wasn't a corpse. He shifted, mask clad head turning to her before he sprung up to shaky feet, filthy knife held defensively in his wavering grip. Even from here she could see the shaking of his large hands.

“Woah! Woah, hold it, big fella!” She exclaimed, bat extended in the space between them, “I'm not going to hurt you, not unless you hurt me first” A stupid thing to say honestly, given that he had a great deal of height and mass over her and, even injured as she believed him to be, could likely subdue her with ease. Not to mention the fact that he was an intruder. Logic seemed to leave her when she needed it most, it seemed. She swallowed thickly as he tilted his head, seeming to consider her words. His hand came to hang at his side, the knife loose in his fist. She lowered her home defense, her gaze still shifting nervously as she searched for his eyes behind the mask. A futile effort, for all she could glimpse was the sunken blackness of the eye holes.

“Why don't you take a seat. Wouldn't want you to pass out in the middle of my living room floor. You're a bit too big for me to carry,” she said as she studied his person to see what injuries he'd sustained. Jesus Christ, she thought, has he been fucking shot? Indeed, the telltale entry wounds were present, six in total, on his chest, arms, and leg. The dark blood that had bloomed around them was beginning to dry. The man all but fell to the couch, his sudden weight making the springs creak slightly.

“I'm willing to bet good money that you've been hurt pretty badly from the look of you. But 911 isn't really an option now, not with the breaking and entering, y'know.” The intruder remained stone still, as he'd been since he sat down. Jean fidgeted, thinking of what to do next. “Since going to the hospital probably isn't an option for you, I could patch you up, if you want. I mean, I'm no doctor, but it's better than nothing.”

At the mention of “hospital” he seemed to stiffen, if only slightly. The offer to tend his wounds seemed to relax him again. Though maybe she was looking too deeply into things. “I'll go ahead and get the kit, you- well you need to strip down a bit so I can help you.” She didn't wait for an answer of any kind before she began up the stairs, her full weight coming down on the squeaky step in her rush. She was playing nurse to the strange man- strange masked man, she corrected- that had broken into her home and threatened her with a knife. The ridiculousness of the situation, the pure stupidity of it all, was not lost on her, but now she was on autopilot. Moving without thinking.

With the first aid kit and water basin now safely in her arms, she moved down the stairs purposefully, almost hoping that her unwelcome guest had left or had been a dream. Her hopes were dashed when she saw him there, partially undressed, on her couch. For how scorched his jumpsuit was he had relatively few burns. In fact, the biggest one was about the size of a hand on his left side. It had blistered, but the rubbing of cloth must have caused them to rupture, leaving them as seeping open wounds. The gunshot wounds were concerning though. They were hard to see under all the crusty dried blood, but she knew that the bullets had to go.

Drawing nearer, she saw on the coffee table sat five bullets, droplets of red pooling around them as the masked man's thick, grubby fingers set down the last one. Jean blinked, then decided it wasn't worth the shock, horror, or confusion. She just needed to tend to him, get some sleep, and wake up from this weird dream. If she was quick enough, she could let it fade from her memory with no problems. Carefully, she cleaned the wounds, watching as the water changed from it's original crystal clear state into a murky red. His wounds, however, looked better than they had before. She dressed them with ointment and bandage, every movement slow and deliberate as she treated the wounds.

She lent to him an old pair of jeans and a button down her granddad had owned. Anything would be better than those grubby coveralls. The more she thought, the more she realized that not all the blood on them could possibly be his, but she pushed it from her mind. The sooner he was out of here, the better. And that would be much faster if she cooperated. You'll regret this later, a small voice, probably her common sense, told her. Maybe I will, she thought in response, but I'll burn that bridge when I get there.

With everything being returned to it's proper place in the box and the filthy water  drained into the sink, she looked to him, a slight nervous grin on her lips, “You'd better get some rest then. Those wounds won't heal up very well otherwise.” He looked in her direction in a way that her exhausted mind read as unsure, yet confused. With a sleepy stagger, she made her way up the stairs to her room. The door slammed slightly behind her as she entered the room, the sound of it echoing throughout the room. She greeted the bed readily, succumbing to unconsciousness as soon as she hit the soft pillows.

Downstairs, the man, now wearing another stranger's clothes, sat on the couch. His mind working to weigh the options at hand. The immediate pleasure of stalking up the stairs and watching the light fade from her eyes as he stripped her life from her was tempting, but this woman, she was useful to him. More-so alive than dead, he figured. And so, he would wait. He was very patient; He'd needed to be for 15 years and could wait just a bit longer for her death. The very thought of it satisfied him.

The night's hunt had been less than successful. Prey had escaped. He'd been injured. And the Doctor- he'd tried to kill him; tried to shoot him dead. Not that it surprised him. Doctor Loomis had promised him for years that he would be killed if he stepped out of line. No matter. He was free now. He could not be stopped. And anyone who tried to stop him would simply become more prey for him. There was only one that had escaped him and she would be hunted, caught like a rat, then slaughtered by his hand, and his hand alone. But first, his body needed rest.

[hrina]

And They Were Roommates

A semi-crack fic featuring bi!Reader x female!OC and awkward Harry

Written for #majorharry20k

Disclaimer: I have no idea how washing machines work. I don’t know if this is even plausible. Just go with it. Also, im very bisexual, so I’m not fetishizing it or anything. Just thought I should mention that too. I intended this to be about 1k and it ended up being 

 Prompts:

1 – “that’s by far the dumbest thing you’ve ever done”

3- “our water bill is going to be through the roof after this”

23 – “Great. I’m soaked.”

To Cass: Hi. You don’t know me, and I prefer to stay anonymous (I’m not the butterfly anon I promise). I’ve been following your blog for a while, since you were a 5sos blog, and I love your writing. I do write, but until now I haven’t written for Harry. Your prompts inspired me. I’m so happy you reached 20k, you deserve it. Hope you enjoy <3  

“It’s broken.”

“Wha’d’ya mean it’s broken?”

“I mean broken. Doesn’t work. No longer functions. How many definitions do you want.”

Harry shakes his head in disbelief. “How on Earth do you break a washing machine?”

In his disbelief, he misses your and Val’s faces turning red.

“I guess- maybe- we put too many clothes in?” Val stammers.  “The landlord will fix it though right? Isn’t it in our lease agreement?” 

Harry shakes his head again. “I’m pretty sure we’re responsible for our own broken appliances.”

“That’s a shit deal,” you jump in for the first time. Harry’s eyes land on you. A couple beats pass, enough for it to become almost awkward. His gaze is intense up until the moment he breaks the silence.

“Yeah, well, we weren’t exactly master negotiators when we moved in. The rent was so low we figured it was worth it.” You’ve heard the story of how Val and Harry became roommates many times from her. How they had been put together for a group project at school, but neither had wanted to meet at their own place, so they ended up always meeting at a coffee shop. How they had become fast friends, meeting up for coffee after the project was over, and opening up to one another about how campus housing had screwed them over. Harry had complained about living with boys, how they were messy, never cleaned up after themselves, ate all his food, and most importantly (and disgustingly) left used condoms everywhere. He had basically been the house cook and maid for the majority of the year. 

Val’s roommates, well, they weren’t outwardly homophobic, but it was little jabs at her that added up over time. Cliché comments like ‘you don’t want to date me, do you?’ and things like being okay with being undressed around each other, but getting weird around Val. By midterm first semester, she had been sleeping in your room more times than not. You would have let her move in, but understandably, your roommates weren’t too happy about another body in your already-too-tight room. So, after the first year of housing was over, Val and Harry had pooled funds and with a bit of luck, mixed with the fact that Harry’s stepdad knew a guy, they managed to find a cute little apartment not too far from the school. An apartment that they lived in to this day, three years later. 

Although you were over there quite a lot (who wouldn’t prefer an apartment over campus housing?), you and Harry had never really become close. Sure, you two would be in proximity during group outings, but you spent most of your time there in Val’s room, and whenever you were in the kitchen or living room, Harry seemed to be busy in his room. You originally thought he didn’t like you, but when you asked Val about it, she assured you that he liked you just fine, though she acknowledged that he was a bit weird around you sometimes. It only got worse after the time he had accidentally walked in on you and Val.

You and Val had a very close relationship – but you had both agreed you were better off as friends. But friendships can have benefits, can’t they? Besides, the times you hooked up were scarce – only when you were both in between partners, which, admittedly, wasn’t very often for you. The time Harry had caught you was right after you had broken up with your boyfriend after finding out that he had been seeing another girl. You had been angry and frustrated, and in need of some sort of release. Val, who rarely dated, was willing to help out. 

You don’t think Harry had seen much, but you had only realized that he had seen something when you heard the bedroom door slam. After that, he had had a hard time meeting your eyes. You couldn’t for the life of you understand why though, he certainly wasn’t a blushing virgin himself. You had been there to see off quite a few of his one-night stands trying to sneak out in the morning. 

To be fair, you were also usually there for the same reason, just a different roommate. The difference was instead of sneaking out in the morning, you’d stay for the day. And usually the following night. And sometimes even the night after that. Val had told you that given the amount of times she slept at yours during the first year, you were entitled to stay over whenever you wanted, and Harry didn’t seem to mind. There’d been quite a few times when you’d arrive at their apartment late at night, drunk out of your mind, to borrow some of Val’s clothes while you slept on their couch. The washing machine came in handy, as you could normally throw your clothes from the night before in with one of their loads. That was actually how you and Val discoveredotheruses for the washing machine. 

It really had been a complete accident. You and Val had gone to move the laundry from the washer to the dryer, but there was still two minutes left on the machine. Instead of leaving and coming back, you and Val elected to just wait it out (because if you left there was no question that you’d forget for the next couple of hours). You sat down in the only chair in the room, so Val decided it was a good idea to hop onto the washing machine itself. Turns out it was a good idea. The second her ass landed, the machine started rattling worse than before and her face contorted into pleasure. You jumped up, for a second thinking she might be in pain, before she used an arm to push you away, signaling that she was okay. 

“What’s going on?” The confusion was clear in your voice. In lieu of an answer, Val just looked up at you, her eyes dark. One of her hands came down to rest between her thighs, supporting her body weight as the machine continued to buck. Realization dawned on you as she let out a groan not dissimilar to one she had let out with you a couple hours earlier. Her hand that wasn’t supporting her came around the back of your head, dragging your lips to hers. 

That day had started something for you two. After it, you and Val spent a lot of time in the laundry room. It had become almost a routine, every time a new load went in, you and Val would stay in the room for at least 15 minutes longer than you needed to. If Harry noticed, he didn’t say anything.

In the next couple of months, the routine became more of a tradition. Clothes in the house were cleaner than ever. Loads gradually progress from just lights and darks to six different categories: light delicates, dark delicates, light regulars, dark regulars, denim, and sheets. The more loads, the more time you guys had. Normally you took turns, with one of you lending the other a hand (no pun intended), but this time, Val had gotten so worked up, that she jumped up with you. Apparently, the weight of two girls plus the stress of constantly running had been too much for the old machine. It sputtered, and then shut off. You had glanced over your shoulder, hoping that maybe the cycle had just ended, though you knew it was too early. Your stomach sank as you saw the knobs frozen halfway through the cycle. You and Val stared at each other with wide eyes. And that’s how you came to be where you are right now, trying to find a reasonable explanation for Harry as to why his washing machine is broken.

Which, by the way, is much easier said than done. As his green eyes bore into you, your mind scrambles to think up an explanation, but you’re drawing blanks. You look over at Val for help, but she looks just as lost as you are. She does a better job of putting on a confident mask though. 

“D’you think you can fix it?” She asks Harry. You see it for what it is – an attempt at deflection. 

Harry snorts. “Sure, let me just use my many years of mechanical experience to – oh wait.” 

“Ok wise guy, at least you used to be a baker?”

Harry stares at her. “What does that have anything to do with a washing machine?”

“Because ovens …?”

Harry continues to stare at her. 

“Could you at least take a look at it?” You jump in. His gaze turns to you. For a moment, you worry you’ve offended him, before he bows his head in a slight nod and steps to stand in front of the machine. 

“Ok, well, first off, how much of your laundry do you have left?” 

You think. “Well, I think we were only halfway through the third cycle, so-“  “Woah woah woah wait hold on.” Harry stops you. “Only? Third?How many cycles were you planning on doing?”

“Uh,” You count in your head. “Six?” You look over at Val for confirmation, and she nods. 

“Six?!” You suppose you understand Harry’s incredulity. In hindsight, six might be a bit excessive.  “Why on earth would you need to do six cycles?” This time, he directs it at Val. 

She flounders to come up with an excuse. “Uh, well, gotta sort colors, you know…” She trails off

“Yeah but six loads? What, do you guys get off on doing laundry or something?” He says it sarcastically, but both your and Val’s faces instantaneously turn red. 

“No.” He whispers. Neither of you answer. You start studying the pattern of tiles on the floor. “What, is this like a- a laundry kink? Is that even a thing?” Val’s head snaps up. “No, dumbass. Laundry kink is not a thing.”

“Well sorryfor assuming having sex in a laundry room means- “

“Oh for God’s sake we weren’t even having sex!”

“Ok well getting each other off – “

“We weren’t getting each other off!” That seems to stop Harry short. He gives Val a questioning look, encouraging her to go on. 

“We- the washing machine- it,” she stumbles over her words. “Y’know it- vibrates?”

“No.” Harry drags his hands down over his face. “There’s no way you two have been using our washing machine as a vibrator.” 

You look up, guilty expression all over your face. 

“That’s gross. This is by far the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, and Val, that’s saying a lot for you. Guys, I do my laundry here, I want my clothes to be clean- “

Val tries to defend you two. “We clean up! Also, I thought most straight guys loved the idea of two girls- “

“I’m not most straight guys. Also forgive me if I’m not too keen on the idea of my roommate and her girlfriend in the laundry room – “

“Wait girlfriend?”

“Yes?” “Do- do you think we’re dating?”

“Well, aren’t you?” “Harry no.” The corners of Val’s mouth tug up in a smile, as the tide of embarrassment starts turning in her favor.

“Guys? Maybe focus on one problem at a time? We kind of have a bigger issue.” You step in, gesturing at the washing machine. 

Harry turns to you. “So you’re single? I mean-” He looks back and forth between you and Val. “You both are?” “Yes? But like (Y/N) said, bigger problems.” Val pats the washing machine. “Weren’t you about to take a look?”

Harry takes a couple more seconds to respond. His gaze holds yours once again, before he shakes his head as if to clear off cobwebs and starts examining the washing machine. 

You look over to Val to see her staring back at you. You widen your eyes comically and lift your eyebrows. She shakes her head in a silent laugh. You have a feeling in years to come, you might be able to look back on this and laugh, but for now, the mortification is still strong. 

“Okay,” Your attention snaps back to where Harry’s crouched down at the side of the machine. “I think it might be a problem with the water. It might be blocked or something.” As he talks, his hand comes to rest on a metal tube feeding into the back of the machine that you assume the water runs though. “So if we call a repairman tonight, they should be able to be here by-” And then, the tube slips. You don’t know if it’s due to the pressure of Harry’s hand, or if it was going to happen anyway and he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but whatever the reason, it slips. And a jet of water starts to spray out of where it was. Soaking everything around it. Including Harry. He splutters and stumbles back, but it’s too late. His hair is plastered to his forehead, and his white shirt has become see through. He looks down, assessing the damage, and then stares back at you two helplessly. 

“Great. I’m soaked.”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” Val tries to stifle her laughter, but doesn’t do a very good job at it. After a few beats, you can’t help but to join in. After everything that’s happened, the emotional rollercoaster you’ve been on of stress and mortification, it feels good just to laugh. 

Harry stares at the two of you for a few more seconds in mock annoyance, before he also can’t help but join in. Soon enough, the three of you are in stitches over just how ridiculous the situation actually is. 

As your laughter dies down, the sound of dripping catches all of your attentions. Your eyes fall to the place that had previously been spraying out water. It had died down so it wasn’t spraying, but there was still a steady, albeit thin stream of water coming out. 

“Our water bill is going to be through the roof after this.” Harry doesn’t sound mad, more like he’s just making commentary, but you feel guilty anyways.

“I’m so sorry guys. I’ll foot half the bill. And I can pay for the repairman-”

 Val cuts you off. “Don’t be stupid. This is just as much my fault as it is yours. More so, even.”

“No but still, I should pay for-”

“(Y/N).” It’s Harry that cuts you off this time. “Seriously. Don’t worry about it. This is our apartment, our bills.” His voice holds a warm tone you’ve never heard from him, and it’s enough to make you pause for a moment. 

“Please guys, let me pay for at least half the water bill and half the repairman. It’s only fair.”

“There’s two of us and one of you. How is that fair?” You throw up your arms in exasperation. You already knew how stubborn Val could be, you just didn’t realize how much Harry shared that trait. “Okay, fine. One third the water bill, one third the repairman. Please guys. I’m literally begging you.”

They glance at each other seeking silent confirmation and share a knowing smirk. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say they were teasing you.

“Okay, fine.” Val relents. “One third the water bill, one third the repairman.”

You heave a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

Val smiles at you. “Ok, I’m going to go find the repairman’s number. There’s one on the fridge, right Harry?” Harry nods in affirmation, and Val heads out the door, pulling out her phone in the process. 

Then it’s just you and Harry. His wet shirt clings to his body, showing off his sculpted figure. You had always noticed he was objectively good looking, but now, with his body practically on display in front of you, you had a newfound appreciation for his looks. 

“If I knew you were that keen on paying, I would have started coming out with you guys a long time ago.” “Hm?” Harry’s voice snaps you out of the trance you didn’t know you were in. He raises his eyebrows at you. Shit. He definitely caught you staring. 

You quickly try to divert the subject. “So the only reason you weren’t coming out with us was because you’re a cheapskate? And here I was thinking you just didn’t like me.” You try to joke, but it falls flat as his expression turns serious. 

“You thought I- Oh God. I’m an idiot.” He shakes his head.

“Well what else was I supposed to think, what with you avoiding me and all.” You try to keep your tone light, but even you can hear the accusatory undertones slipping in. You hadn’t thought you were bitter, but now facing it head on, you realize you might carry a bit of resentment. 

“I never avoided you.” You give him a look. “Okay, maybe I avoided you a little bit. But it wasn’t-” He cuts himself off. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry I gave you that impression. I never meant to make you think I didn’t like you.”

“Well, it’s hard to draw any other conclusions when you get avoided,” you laugh self-deprecatingly. 

“I know. And you’re right. I’m sorry. I never really thought about it that way.” You lift your gaze to hold his steadily. You want an answer, and you intend on getting it. “Then why did you avoid me?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I-” He glances at you, and seems at a loss for words. You look at him expectantly, waiting patiently for him to talk. He sighs again. “Look. You deserve an explanation. But it might take a second, and I’m,” he gestures down at himself. “I need a shower. And a change of clothes. And I need to gather my thoughts. Can we talk after?”

It’s not the answer you expected or wanted, but you nod. The disappointment must show on your face though, because Harry grabs you hand before you can turn away. “(Y/N). I promise after I shower I’m all yours.” His eyes meet yours again, but this time there’s a heat behind them that wasn’t there before. You’re pretty sure this is the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him, and the most amount of physical contact as well. All at once, it’s slightly overwhelming. Your voice seems stuck in your throat, so instead of responding you just nod. He gives you a slight smile, and with that, he’s brushing past you, out into the hallway, and you’re left standing in the laundry room, wondering what the hell just happened.

You still feel a bit dazed 15 minutes later, as you’re sitting on the couch in the living room when you hear the shower shut off. You quickly close the app you were playing around with on your phone as you glance up. Harry emerges in only a towel wrapped around his waist. He’s like a vacuum for your eyes, drawing them towards him so you can’t possible look at anything else. He stands there, neither of you saying anything until – 

“You have three nipples?” 

He blinks, seemingly caught off guard, before his brain catches up with what you said. “Huh? Oh, four actually.” 

“What? No way,” you gasp.

“Uh-huh,” he nods. “See look – one, two, three, four,” He counts, pointing them all out individually. 

“I didn’t even know that was a thing people had.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m unique like that.” He grins at you, and you roll your eyes, even as a smile breaks through on your lips. 

“Are you going to get dressed, or are we having the talk like this?” You ask.

“Oh, right. I’m just gonna-” he points vaguely in the direction of his room and stumbles off. He emerges a minute later, in a tee-shirt and sweatpants. It’s an outfit you’ve seen him in a million times before, but this time, it hits different. 

“Ok, ready to talk?” You ask. 

He fidgets with the hem of his shirt. “Um, actually, there’s something I think I need to talk about with Val first.”

You give him a pointed look. “Harry.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. It’s just part of my explanation involves something having to do with her, and it wouldn’t be right of me to tell you without asking her first, and-” You cut him off by holding your hand up. 

“Ok. Fine. Just make it quick, please.” 

He looks relieved. “Yeah, of course. I’m really sorry again.” He turns around as talks, speaking to you over his shoulder, and promptly almost runs into the door frame. He shoots you one last embarrassed look, as he heads out in the direction of Kate’s room. You laugh and shake your head as you pick up your phone to reopen your game.

It’s about half an hour later when Harry comes back into the living room. You glance up at him, unimpressed, and he winces at your expression. “I’m sorry it took so long, I just had to explain some things to her.” “You’ve been apologizing an awful lot lately, Harry.”

“I know. Hopefully I won’t have to after this.” He crosses the room to take as seat next to you on the couch. He tucks one foot under his knee, so he can turn his body to face you. In response, you curl up and face him as well. 

He takes a deep breath. “Okay. There’s a lot I have to say, and quite honestly I’m really nervous about it, so I would really appreciate if you would hear out my whole story before saying anything.” You nod in agreement, and he takes another deep breath before starting.

“I want to start by saying I’m sorry.” “I thought you said you wouldn’t apologize anymore.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t interrupt me.” He fires back. You blush, and gesture for him to continue.

“I am, sorry, is the thing. I handled the situation entirely wrong. Looking back, it’s super obvious that the way I handled it made me seem like an asshole.”

“I didn’t think you were an asshole.” Harry gives you a look. “Right, sorry, shutting up now.” 

A half smile takes over his face, smoothing out his previously serious features. “I did seem like an asshole. It was only because I didn’t want- No wait. Okay. Let me start from the beginning.

“I knew who you were before we met. Val had told me about you. I met Val about a month after you met her, and at that point, she had a crush on you. That’s what I had to go talk to her about just now. She told me her crush faded right after that, and she thought I knew, but I thought that she liked you all this time. I knew you guys had dated other people, but I guess I thought that she was waiting for you or something? And then that one time I walked in on you guys, I just assumed that you had finally gotten together.”

“Harry.” His eyes snap up to yours. “I’m sorry, I know you said no more interruptions, but Harry, I already knew Val liked me. She told me as soon as she got over it. That’s why we started, y’know.”

He stares at you. “What- you mean- oh come on. Val conveniently forgot to mention that bit. I swear to God, that girl just wants to watch the world burn sometimes.” You stifle a giggle. Sounds like something Val would do. She likes to make Harry squirm.

Harry shakes his head. “Okay. Right. Anyways,” He pauses. “Do you remember the first time we met? When the three of us went for coffee?” You nod your head in affirmation. “The first time I saw you, I thought you were the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen.” Your eyes widen in surprise, but you don’t say anything. “You made me shy and nervous, which had never happened before, and hasn’t happened since. And then we had that conversation about music – remember you told me you wanted Stevie Nicks to be your sugar mama?” 

You nod, smiling. “You said you wanted her to be yours too.”

“Right yeah. Basically, I was a goner after that. But I thought Val liked you, and me and Val had just started becoming really good friends, and I really liked her, and I didn’t want to do anything to mess up the friendship. I told myself it was just a crush and I’d get over it soon, but well,” He spread his hands. “I never really did. And then I thought if I distanced myself, it would go away. But that didn’t work either. Also, when I like someone, I’m like, really obvious about it. And I didn’t want Val to know, so again, distancing myself seemed like the obvious choice. And in hindsight, it was a really bad idea, because it makes total sense that you’d interpret it as me not liking you. So. Here we are. I don’t not like you. Pretty much the opposite.”

“Sooo,” Your eyes sparkle. “What I’m hearing is. You have a crush on me.” 

Harry groans and drops his face into his hands. “Oh God, I’m seriously starting to regret it. You’re just as bad as Val.”

“We’re best friends for a reason.” You pause. “What does Val think of all this?”

Harry smirks. “I’d say she seems fine with it. If I remember correctly, she said something along the lines of ‘go get that pussy, you oblivious dickhead.’”

You laugh. “Sounds like something she’d say. I hope this doesn’t mean you’re expecting to get in my pants, Styles.” 

He grins. “Wouldn’t dream of it, (Y/L/N). Not yet at least. Was thinking of taking you on a date first.”

That makes you pause. “A date, huh.”

“Yeah,” he says, looking bashful all of a sudden.

You pretend to think about it. “Would you avoid me the whole time?”

He groans as you burst into laughter. “God. You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Probably not,” You agree. 

“Well fine. If it’s like that, maybe the washing machine will take you on a date instead.”

You gasp. “That’s a low blow, Styles.”

He smirks at you, and you reach over to shove at his shoulder. Before you make contact however, he catches your hand, and uses it to pull you closer to him. He glances down at your lips and then tilts his head, a silent question. You answer by leaning in. But before your lips can touch, the sound of the door slamming breaks you two apart. You look over to see Val in the doorway. 

“Well isn’t this awfully cute. Harry, I never thought you’d go for my sloppy seconds,” she laughs. 

Harry stares at her, then looks at you, then back at her, and then back at you. “Please, pleasehold that thought. I’ll be right back; I just have a roommate to kill.”

“Be my guest. She’s most ticklish at her waist.”

Val’s eyes widen. “No Harry, you know I’m too ticklish – ARGH,” she cuts herself of with a scream as she runs off as Harry launches himself off the couch after her. 

~*~

PLEASE i loved this okay 🥺🥺 bi!reader rights babey!!!!!!!!!! we love 2 see it!!!! i think my fav part was val calling harry an oblivious dickhead nsfjdnsjnsn bc honestly he rly is. i think this was very well done and i just wanna say thank u for following me for so long!!! like damn you’ve been here a while huh……………..i luv u. amazing job babes!

[suckmysupernatural]

Sunshine - Chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1810

Pairing: Sam x OC Sunny

Series Summary: The Winchesters meet a cheerful hunter named Sunny, who quickly captures Sam’s attention. Little do any of them know what lies in store when Sunny gets invited to join the brothers. Who can say how Sam, Dean, and Sunny will be some training days, a handful of hunts, romantic dates, a kidnapping, and one vengeful demon later.

Chapter Summary: Sunny and the Winchesters find a case.

Warnings: language

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

“Hey, Sunny. We found a case. You want to come?” Sam offered as he walked into the library. Sunny had been immersed in a book of zombie lore but hearing the word ‘case’ caught her attention. 

“Yes! Yeah, yes yes!” Sunny answered excitedly. Sam laughed, nodding.

“Okay, we leave in 10. Pack for a few days,” Sam said. He left to go to the kitchen, leaving Sunny to hustle to her room. She grabbed her empty duffel bag from under the bed, shoving some clothes into the bag. She made sure to put a mix of hunting clothes and a couple of nicer outfits in case they went undercover. Sunny walked up to her nightstand, looking fondly at the photos that sat there. 

“I’ll see you guys later,” she smiled, kissing two of her fingers before touching each photo. This was a ritual that Sunny had set in place soon after her family had died. While she knew that her family was gone for good, she couldn’t help but talk to them sometimes. There were times when she would just talk to her sister about the hot guy at the bar or telling her dad a joke. It brought Sunny comfort. 

Reaching the Impala, she saw Dean on the driver’s side, waiting for her and Sam. Sunny looked around for Sam, but he must still be packing. Laughing to herself, she hopped into the passenger seat for the first time. Dean looked over and laughed.

“Sammy won’t be happy about this,” Dean pointed out. 

“Well, now he gets the pleasure of staring at me the whole trip,” Sunny winked. It was then that Sam walked into the garage. He approached the passenger side and stopped, surprised to see his seat taken. Sunny rolled the window down, looking up at him. “Hello, can I help you?” 

“Wow,” Sam said in mock offense, “how dare you.” Sunny giggled as Sam made his way into the backseat. Dean turned to face his brother, one arm resting on the back of the bench seat. 

“Www-chhhhh,” Dean mimicked the motion of a whip. Sunny gave Dean a small shove, trying to hide a laugh. Sam simply rolled his eyes at his brother’s teasing. He was used to it. Dean turned to face forward, reversing the car out of the garage. Sunny bent down to pick up the Impala’s cassette collection. She looked through the titles, smiling when she found one that had been shoved to the bottom. She slid it into the player and turned up the volume.

It didn’t take long for the familiar upbeat electric guitar to flow through the car’s speakers. Dean was already speeding down the road but the music broke his focus. He whipped his head to look at Sunny as the lyrics started.

What I want, you've got 

But it might be hard to handle

Like the flame that burns the -

Before the first verse could even finish, Dean pressed the eject button. He kept eye contact with Sunny as he rolled down the window, grabbed the cassette, and chucked it out of the car. 

“Dean -” Sunny started to complain but was quickly interrupted.

“NO HALL & OATES IN BABY,” Dean yelled. He reached into the box of tapes, pulling one out at random. Soon the tunes of AC/DC filled the car. Sam and Sunny sat in shock at first before bursting into laughter. Dean quickly joined them, chuckling as he continued onto the highway. 

“Okay, so what is the case boys?” Sunny asked, her eyes shifting between the brothers. 

“Blair, Nebraska. We already have six bodies waiting for us in the city’s morgue. They have all been brutally murdered, some were stabbed while others had their neck snapped.” Sam explained.

“Couldn’t this just be a serial killer?” Sunny asked. 

“At first, it looked that way. But for a couple of the victims, their families have described a rotten egg smell in the home. One had even been visited by an electrician that morning after complaining that the lights in her home had been flickering even after replacing the light bulbs,” Sam gave a knowing look at Sunny.

“So we’ve got ourselves a demon,” Sunny said.

“Yep, one with an anger management problem it seems.” 

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

The drive to Blair, Nebraska was relatively short. Within four hours they had arrived at the city’s only motel. It was small, with only about a dozen rooms. The three checked in, only getting one room. Sam and Sunny had discussed it and decided to share a bed on hunting trips. They weren’t sharing one back at the bunker, but Sam felt better knowing that Sunny was in the same room when there was a dangerous monster roaming about. He knew that she was an incredible hunter, maybe even better than him, but didn’t want to take the risk. That was fine by Sunny as she liked knowing that Sam was safe as well. 

Going into the room, they all quickly changed into their FBI gear. They were all wearing suits by the time they had climbed back into the Impala. Sunny wasn’t a big fan of her gray pantsuit, wishing she could wear something brighter instead; she knew that neutral colors were best if she wanted to be taken seriously. 

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

“Please tell me that you guys got some info on this demon,” Dean groaned as he flopped onto the motel bed. They had decided early on to split up, each covering two of the victim’s families. Each hunter got barely any information that could lead to the motive behind these murders. None of them had any major successes within the last ten years, so a demon deal was quickly eliminated from the list. 

“So I have a pediatric surgeon who recently gave a pro bono surgery to a child with cancer and a high school football coach with a nicotine addiction and a tendency to sleep with cheerleaders,” Sunny told the boys. 

“The older woman, Marge, volunteered at her church and had a book club. I also met the very distraught mother of the dead teenager. He was constantly in trouble and his browsing history was filled with porn,” Sam stated. Dean raised his eyebrows in approval at the mention of the teen’s pornography habits.

“I got the woman that ran the non-profit and knit caps for newborn babies and a man who had a bad gambling debt. Like 100,000 dollars worth of debt,” Dean said dully. There wasn’t much to go on and the boys thought that they had hit a roadblock. That was until Sunny spoke up.

“Wait guys, I think I found a pattern. We have three women who were giving and kind, amazing people. Then we have three guys that are on the bad side of things,” Sunny said. The boys’ faces lit up in understanding. 

“So, sinners and saints?” Sam asked, looking at the other two. 

“It’s weird but we’ve seen weirder,” Dean pointed out. Sam nodded in agreement.

“So tomorrow, we just research what? Awesome women and shitty men?” Sam asked.

“Sounds hard to narrow down,” Sunny laughed. Both of the brothers looked at her as if they were deeply offended. It didn’t last long, with both guys agreeing. The three of them got ready for bed, deciding to call it a night. They had been working all day and tomorrow would likely be the same.

Dean fell asleep quickly, his snores filling the motel room. The sound was like a white noise machine was playing so Sunny and Sam weren’t bothered by it. It wasn’t long until they were also in deep sleep, their cuddling keeping them warm throughout the night.

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

“Rise and Shine, lovers!” Dean yelled out from the foot of the bed that Sam and Sunny were sharing. They both groaned at the older brother, Sam throwing a pillow at him. “Hey, Woah. Is that any way to treat the man who got you coffee?”

Sam shot out of bed, quickly grabbing the cup from Dean’s hand. The brothers both shared a slight caffeine addiction, using coffee to get through the day. Sunny, on the other hand, often preferred tea. Dean had remembered that fact and handed her a cup of Earl Grey.

“Thanks, Dean,” Sunny inhaled the enticing aroma. Dean sat down on his bed, looking at the other two hunters.

“So, how do we find the next victims?” Dean asked. It was a question that none of them truly knew the answer to. 

“Um… maybe we can just ask around town? See what the gossip is?” Sunny offered. She wished that there was something more concrete, but this was all they had at the moment. 

“Yeah, I guess. I’ll check out the police station, see if they have any repeat offenders,” Dean said. 

“Okay, Sunny and I will look for some do-gooders,” Sam shrugged. Dean nodded, going to the bathroom to get ready. It didn’t take long, putting on the fed suit once again because he was going to the police station. Sunny and Sam, on the other hand, got to dress casually. Sunny was glad to leave behind the pantsuit, trading it in for a light blue, knee-length sundress with buttons down the front and pockets. 

“Wow, you are beautiful,” Sam said at the sight of her. She could feel a blush crawling up her cheeks as she gave him a large grin.

“Why, thank you,” Sunny gave a small curtsy. Sam laughed, offering his hand for her to take. The two, now hand-in-hand, left the motel room to walk towards the town’s center. The city was small so they would be fine without a car. In fact, Sunny found it rather enjoyable. The sun was shining down on them, the slight breeze keeping them from overheating. 

It was difficult to focus on the case at hand as both were distracted by one another. Sam couldn’t think of a time that he was this happy. Looking down at her, he couldn’t believe his luck. Her eyes were closed, letting the sun wash over her face and trusting Sam to guide her. He was in awe of Sunny, how she takes something as small as the sun on her face and lets it fill her with joy. Her eyes fluttered open to meet Sam’s.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing, I was just thinking about how I am the luckiest man alive,” Sam said matter-of-factly. Sunny let out a giggle that made his heart skip a beat.

“Okay, Mr. Luck. We gotta focus up, finish this case and I’ll show you just how lucky you are,” Sunny winked and gave his hand a squeeze. Sam’s eyebrows raised, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. 

“Let’s get to work then,” Sam said with determination as he increased his pace. Sunny laughed as she attempted to catch up with him and his long legs.

Chapter 6 ->

[dumbchickwrites]

the end of the rainbow 🌈 — part 1

Pairings: Sam Wilson x OC! Iris Fury.

Warnings: none (for now eheheh).

Words: 1488.

Summary: Former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Iris Fury, daughter of Nick Fury, is called by her father to assist the Avengers while agent Romanoff recovers from a few wounds. A certain Falcon catches her eye. Follow Iris and Sam as they take a walk on the rainbow and eventually find out what hides at the end of that beautiful path.

A/N: Remember a while back when I said I was done writing? LOL. Anyway, this is my very first Sam Wilson fanfiction and my first OC fanfiction. A little fact about the title: I called it The End of the Rainbow because in Greek mythology, the goddess Iris was a messenger who travelled on the rainbow between the gods and the humans. This note’s getting pretty long (can you tell I’m excited?), so I’m just gonna wrap it here. Enjoy!

please reblog and comment if you like! <3

***

Bucky's feet silently slid on the polished floor as he sleepily dragged himself to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Everything was dark and empty, as a home should be at three in the morning.

Except the common room wasn't.

Now fully alert, Bucky came back on his steps to find a woman sitting in a chair, a book in her lap and a steaming cup in her hand. She was wearing all black, her kinky curls pulled back into a sleek ponytail.

She took a sip of her beverage without looking up at the man in front of her, though she was perfectly aware of his presence. She flipped a page of the book.

The former Hydra soldier flexed his metal arm, ready to spring into action.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

The woman remained silent.

"I asked you a question," Bucky took a step towards the intruder.

She held up a finger and shushed him. "Not now, Sarge. The story's getting good."

Bucky's frown deepened with a mix of confusion and offence. Who in the world was this woman to show up in his home in the middle of the night and tell him to shut up?! And she'd made herself comfortable!

"Okay," Bucky huffed. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., wake up the rest of the team, please. We got a situation here."

"That won't be necessary, F.R.I.D.A.Y.," the woman spoke again. She still hadn't looked at him, not tearing her eyes off the book. "Let them sleep."

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

"I'm sorry, Mr Barnes. Your authority has been overridden," the A.I. said.

"Overrid— What?! I'm gonna need someone to tell me what the hell is going on here!" the volume of his voice increased as he started waving his arms.

The woman finally looked up from the book with an exasperated sigh. Why couldn't he just go back to bed, she thought. It was way too early — or late — for her to be dealing with this. She closed the book and set it on the coffee table, then sat back in the chair to make herself more comfortable.

"My name is Iris Fury. I'm here to help you guys."

*

"Most of you know Agent Fury here—"

Iris leaned towards her father to whisper something in his ear, which made him roll his eyes. Or at least, the one people could see.

The team sat in front of Nick Fury and his daughter. They had the same stance — hands behind their backs, standing straight, legs slightly apart and chin up. They even both wore all black outfits, though Iris looked slightly taller than her father thanks to her heeled boots.

"...Agent Clarke here," he gave her a pointed look. "She used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D., but now works for MI6. She's going to fill up Agent Romanoff's duties while she recovers from her injuries."

Iris smiled at the team from where she stood. Agent Barnes was sulking at the end of the table, for some reason. She wasn't sure why, but she made a mental note to clear the air with him before things got too weird. Natasha sent her a warm smile, which she acknowledged by winking at her. It had been a long time since she saw the Avengers. Last time she was in the U.S., there were six of them but only Steve and Natasha were with her in Washington D.C. when S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed, leaving the country with a major breach in its military intelligence. She also vaguely remembered Sam. She'd only exchanged a few words with him but he'd been quite helpful.

"I'm off to D.C.," her father said. "I expect y'all to treat my daughter well—"

"Dad!" she hissed. "This is highly unprofessional!"

"And I expect you to be on your best behaviour.”

Iris rolled her eyes at her dad, reminding him that she wasn’t a kid anymore. They exchanged a long gaze before her father squeezed her shoulder and stepped out of the conference room.

Once Nick was out of sight, she turned back to the team with a smile.

"So," she clapped her hands.

Clint rushed to her to engulf her in a fatherly hug. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him with all she had.

"I haven't seen you in so long, kiddo! Wow! Nat, look at our baby!" Clint was beaming, pointing at Iris.

"Your baby?" Tony perked up. "I'm sorry, but I babysat her."

"Babysat?" Iris parroted. "Tony, I was seventeen when we met," she laughed.

"Exactly!"

They all joked like this for a few moments before they led Iris to the kitchen. Tony started taking out the fruits and vegetables he needed to make his famous green juice, Sam started cooking the eggs and bacon, and Clint was on waffle duty. Iris wanted to help, but they told her to "sit down and be cute", something that Clint always told her when she was a child, running around S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.

"So this is Wanda," Clint pointed toward the Scarlet Witch with his laddle, batter dripping on the counter. Iris saw Tony make a face at it, which amused her. "I mean you probably know who everyone here is, but let's do this the old-fashioned way. You already know Bucky," he was still sulking in a corner, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Yeah, I do know him," Iris said, absentmindedly rubbing the two scars on her shoulder and collarbone over her long-sleeved shirt.

"Uh... and you already know Sam, too."

Iris sent a little wave his way, to which he smiled.

Wanda came to sit next to Iris, already talking her ear off. She didn't mind though, it was cute. Steve, Natasha and Bucky were already sat at the table, talking about God-knows-what.

"Hey, where's Rhodey?" Iris asked after a few moments, realising someone was missing.

"He's with Vision, he's helping him with something," Tony answered while serving the juice. "He'll be here soon."

Though no one wanted her to help for the time being, she still helped set the table and made some fresh orange juice.

"So, Pumpkin, you know everything about everyone here, but we're kind of in the dark here. What have you been up to?" Tony asked.

Everyone's eyes fell on her and it took all she had for her not to squirm under their intense gazes. She usually didn't mind attention but they were the Avengers, after all.

"Oh, uh... I don't think I know everything..." Tony motioned for her to keep talking so she did. "Well, after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell I joined MI6, like daddy said."

"Speaking of that, I love the accent," Natasha said. “What’s up with the Clarke, though? Are you married?”

"Thanks Nat. And God no,” she chuckled. “It’s my mother’s maiden name. I wanted to make it on my own, without daddy’s name.”

"So do you guys have a real life James Bond or something like that?" Wanda asked. "Is it like in the movies? With the cool tech?”

Iris threw her head back in a laugh. If she had a penny every time someone asked her that question, she'd probably have like $50 or something.

"Kind of. Look," she raised her wrist and pressed a button on the side of her watch. A holographic display emerged in the air, pictures and documents slowly swirling. Iris pressed the button again and the hologram disappeared as Wanda watched, her mouth hung open in a "woah".

"So it's like bootleg Stark tech," Tony said matter-of-factly.

Iris simply shrugged, "Sure."

After finishing breakfast and helping with the dishes, Iris went back to her bedroom to finish unpacking her things. Tony had had a room ready for her the minute Nick called him.

She was folding her clothes while swaying to the music playing in the background when she sensed someone looking at her. She placed the pair of jeans she was holding on top of their designated pile before turning towards the door to look at Sam.

“Hey,” he said. “Tony sent me to see if you needed anything,” he crossed one leg over the other and leaned on the doorframe.

“I’m good, thanks. I could eat more of that bacon though,” she added with a smile. “You make some nice eggs, too.”

“I like to think of it as my hidden talent,” he shrugged, a smirk on his lips.

“Cooking in general or just eggs?” Iris started folding a shirt.

“I guess you’ll find out if you stick around long enough.”

“I hope I will,” she said, biting her lower lip to hide her smile.

Sam winked at her before disappearing in the hallway, a slight dip in his steps. He made his way to his own room so that he could change into some workout clothes and hit the gym. Clear his head a little. Ungodly thoughts had been swirling in his mind for an hour, all provoked by the particular way a certain word sounded in Iris’ mouth.

[badolmen]

My OCs as John Mulaney Quotes

Kay:  i think they're just like "woah, that tall child looks terrible! get some rest, tall child!”

Bean:  Well shit, I guess they're finally gonna kill us all. This is younger than I thought it'd be, but we are pretty big assholes.

Rook:  I have had a very long day. I am very small. And I have no money. So you can imagine the kind of stress that I am under.

Fen: I will pepper in the fact that I am gay.

Chi: I think Emily Dickinson’s a lesbian.

Six: It is 100% easier not to do things than to do them.

Switch: STREET SMARTS!

Verse:  I look like I was just sitting in a room in a chair eating Saltines for like 28 years and then I walked right out here.

Kel: i’ll keep all of my emotions right here where no one can see them and one day i’ll die

Bo:  Part of me was like, whatever, you know, you know those days when you’re like this might as well happen? Our life is already so goddamn weird.

Egg: I also don’t want me to be doing what I’m doing.

BONUS:

Den:  I quit drinking because I would black out and “ruin parties”

Guil: i look back on being 17 and think ‘oh god, how did I not die?’

Grand General Mali: you have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair

[nostalgia-tblr]

Shipping Ruins Everything

So here are my OTPest ships for each individual Doctor other than the new one. I excluded Doctor/TARDIS in case that got in the way by being omnipresent.

1/Cameca, obviously. I mean I think he and Barbara had a weird sexual tension going on, but she’d never hit that and Cameca is at least about 1/8th of the Doctor’s age so they might find stuff to talk about.

2/Jamie, who are in my head Definately Married and sometimes I forget that this is not in fact canonical. Somehow.

3/Delgado!Master, because they work so well together and maybe they could meet in the middle on topics like universal domination and the like?

4/Romana. Both Romanas, because I think it was lust at first sight for the Doctor and they started getting it on around about Stones of Blood and he was madly in love with her well before she regenerated. Sadly it ended badly and she stole his dog, but maybe they could be together again if she’s not dead. MAYBE.

5/Tegan, don’t judge me. Also maybe 5/Turlough, because I don’t have very strong feelings about Five’s lovelife. Though him and Dr Todd from Kinda could have been a thing if it wasn’t for all that plot stuff getting in the way.

6/Peri, okay you can judge me for this one. 

7/OC in that I think he might have a wife/husband tucked away somewhere that he visits when he wants some downtime from all the adventure. Ace knows about this, but she doesn’t really want to *know* about it, if you see what I mean.

8/Grace because there’s nobody else he only met about six people. No wait, 8/Ohila.

9/Jabe, yeah I think they had a nice attraction thing going. Actually I don’t feel that strongly about this one but it’d have been nice. 

10/Reinette like woah. I never seen him that in love with anyone except maybe Sarah Jane, and they probably did it and it was all very tragic but beautiful at the same time.

11/River, which is just canon really so whatever.

12/Missy which you may have guessed if you have met me on the internet. They have a constant sexual spark and probably did it every time they were offscreen. 

[thatsnicebutimmarried]

The Unfortunate Mrs. Haddock

Hey...so...I have had this thing in my head for like...years now, and I have no idea if anyone will even care about it, but I decided to write it anyway. I’m not cross posting this on ff.net or AO3, because I know how this fandom is and I don’t want to deal with all the people yelling at me because this isn’t their cup of tea and they don’t know how to just stop reading. 

Because this is hiccstrid, but like...not openly? Like. I wanted to play with the idea of an arranged political marriage AU and it turned into angst and Hiccup and Astrid kind of being jerks but then Gustav showed up and became a major character? Like...I know what kind of response this would get. So I’m just posting it on tumblr. Plus I’ll probably only update it super sporadically, because I still need to finish posting Persephone (which I haven’t done because the last round of reviews pissed me off and I’m just avoiding it for a while) and because this is such a loose thread of a story. And there’s hiccstrid in the background, but it’s narrated by an OC that most fans would probably hate simply for existing so...I’m just posting this here for now. I like it and I wanted to write it. So here’s the first chapter of a weird AU in which everyone is kind of a jerk. 

X

The room feels far too quiet after the revelry and noise of today. I mean, it was pretty quiet when the witnesses were here to watch my new husband remove my bridal crown, but at least then there was the shuffling of feet and the odd cough or cleared throat. Now even the sound of their footsteps leaving our new house has faded off into the distance, and it’s just the crackling fire and our breathing.

I’m not really sure what to do now. My mother told me what to expect from this night, but so far nothing has quite gone like I expected it to. I’m nervous, of course, but kind of excited. I guess I expected that as soon as our witnesses were out of earshot my husband would sweep me off my feet and into the big bed in the center of the room. Instead he just sighed, took a flask of something I assume to be alcoholic out of a drawer of the desk in the corner, and collapsed into the chair and started drinking, not looking at me the whole time.

He…he hasn’t really looked at me much at all today. I mean, he has looked at me. He has smiled vaguely in my direction at all the right times, but I don’t think he has met my eyes more than a handful of times all day, and never for longer than a second or so. I think he must be as nervous as I am. Maybe more?

Did I look that pretty today? Mama and the other women from my village spent hours braiding my hair, applying the kohl around my eyes and the paint on my lips just so, and my dress was so beautiful. Our island is known for our access to precious metals and gemstones, and my dress was decorated with hundreds of tiny gemstone beads. I thought I looked really beautiful, but my groom barely seemed to notice, I thought. Or maybe Mama was right; I was so pretty he couldn’t meet my eye.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and the sound makes my new husband look up. I give him my sweetest smile and pat the bed next to me. He stares at me for a moment before taking a long swig of his flask.

He’s been drinking a lot today. I know it’s a Viking wedding and those usually involve mass quantities of mead and ale, but I’m starting to wonder if the amount he’s been drinking is normal. He looks too skinny to have that high of an alcohol tolerance.

When he doesn’t look back at me I clear my throat but he ignores me, staring into a corner. He must just be really nervous. Or drunk. He seemed so nice when I met him before. Maybe that was the problem; we didn’t get to spend enough time together before the wedding.

Maybe I need to…maybe I need to entice him. I stand up, which earns me a quick glance, and start pulling my night dress over my head.

“Woah, woah, woah, stop! What do you think you’re doing?” I freeze, my night dress around my arms and chest, and look at my husband. He’s looking determinedly in the opposite direction with one hand outstretched towards me.

“I, um, I’m getting undressed?” I answer with a nervous giggle.

“Well stop, put your clothes back on!” He snaps, and I frown, letting my night dress fall back into place.

“Why?”

“Why,” he repeats, and chuckles bitterly under his breath before taking a drink from his flask. “Why the hell are you undressing in front of me to begin with?”

“Well,” I begin, trying to keep the nervous giggles at bay, and step slowly towards him, “I mean, today was our wedding day. So, tonight is our wedding night.” He actually looks at me this time, and I give him my biggest, sweetest smile.

He frowns at me. “How old are you again?” he asks.

“Sixteen.”

“Fuck me,” he groans, and drinks from his flask, but, he doesn’t say it the way I expected he might. It’s not a request, it’s a lamentation, and I frown.

“Is that a problem? Am I…too old or something? I promise I’m still a virgin.” I’m halfway through this sentence when he chokes on his mead.

“Too old?” he splutters, wide eyes staring at me. “Gods fucking…” He hasn’t even finished coughing up his first gulp before he starts chugging his flask again.

I start to fidget, picking at the lace hem of my sleeve. He’s definitely drunk, isn’t he? “If you’re nervous, don’t feel bad, I am too,” I say, trying for a smile again. “We can take things slow. I mean, we haven’t even properly kissed yet. You just sort of pecked my cheek at the ceremony.” I flop back onto the bed and strike a pose that I hope is seductive. “Come on, we’re married now.” I grin at him. “We’re allowed.” For all my bravado I’m honestly a bit terrified. I mean, I’m excited too, anxiety and anticipation all wrapped up into a ball of nervous energy in my stomach.

I did as Mama always said. I was the good girl. I waited, I kept myself pure, kept my honor intact, and the gods have rewarded me with a handsome and powerful husband. That’s part of why I’m nervous, to be honest. I know I’m pretty but I think I’m pretty in a young sort of way. The young chief of Berk is older than me, handsome and grown up and strong somehow despite how thin he looks. When I first met him I thought he had the kindest eyes I’d ever seen, all warm green and smiling. He was nice to me for those two days. He hasn’t been as nice to me today, but I guess planning a chief’s wedding is a lot of stress, and he’s probably just tired.

But I’m…I’m ready for this. I’m ready for this handsome young man to make me his wife.

My husband rubs his eyes and sighs. “Okay, look, Ma-mag, fuck, what was your name again? Something about maggots,” he mumbles, and my smile slips.

“Maggotha,” I offer.

“Right,” he looks at me, “Maggotha—“

“Or Maggie,” I cut in, smiling. “Or Mags.”

He blinks at me, swaying slightly. “That’s too many names. What do I-what do I call you? Pick one.”

I’m fighting to keep my smile now. “Um, I guess most people call me Maggie.”

He takes a deep breath. “Okay, Maggie, look, you need to—“ While he’s talking I start slowly pulling the hem of my dress up, uncovering my legs. The hem reaches my thighs when he notices, and his eyes bulge and he stops talking.

He lunges towards me and grabs the hem of my dress. For a moment my heart hammers because oh my gods it’s happening, but then he yanks my hem down over my legs and stumbles a few steps back, panting.

“For gods’s sake, Maggie, would you stop it!” It’s not a question, it’s an order, and he’s outright glaring at me now. All that kindness I saw in his eyes has evaporated, and he’s looking at me like an angry parent. “I’m not going to sleep with you!”

My smile is gone now, and I sit up. “What? Why? Are you too tired? Because it’s been a long day, and if you want to wait until tomorrow, I mean, we’ve got our whole honeymonth to—“

He’s been rubbing his eyes again and holds his hand out to stop me. “Stop, stop,” he interrupts finally, and turns a hard look my way. “I’m not sleeping with you tonight. I’m not sleeping with you tomorrow. I’m not having sex with you at all. Ever.”

My heart drops into my stomach. “You don’t mean that. You can’t mean that. You’re teasing me. Right?” That hard look doesn’t leave his eyes. “Why?”

“Why?” he laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Because you’re fucking sixteen, that’s why. You’re a godsdamn child.” He starts back to his desk and his flask and I sit up on my knees glaring at him.

“I am not a child!” I proclaim, and almost wince when my voice goes shrill in just such a way to make me sound like a child. “I am a grown woman, and your wife. I am old enough to be fertile, and I’m old enough to be taken into my husband’s bed and bear him children and—“

“Oh my gods!” He exclaims to no one in particular. He looks at me over the rim of his flask. “You sound like such a kid right now and you don’t even realize it.” He takes another drink before fixing me with a stare. “You’re six-fucking-teen. You think you’re so grown up because that’s what everyone thinks at that age. Thor knows I did. But you’re a kid. And I know you’re a kid because I’m not.”

I frown indignantly. “You’re not that much older than me.”

“I’m five years older than you.”

“That’s not that many. My dad is almost a decade older than my mom.”

He rolls his eyes, and everything about this conversation feels unfair. He’s talking to me like I’m a child, and I’m not. “My dad was exactly a decade older than my mom, but she was at least an adult when they got married. If you were a few years older then five years wouldn’t be that big of a difference, but you’re not. You look like a kid, you act like a kid, and I’m not sleeping with you. That’s final.”

He turns away from me entirely and I feel fury rising in my chest and coursing like shockwaves through my whole body. I clumsily climb off the bed and stumble to my feet in front of him, standing my ground even though he has at least a foot on me. “I am not a child! I am a grown woman, and I am your wife, and this is my wedding night!”

He rounds on me. “It’s not supposed to be!” He roars, and I go silent. He’s glaring, practically snarling at me now. “This wasn’t supposed to be your wedding, or your wedding night! You were never supposed to be my wife!” He waves a hand around the room. “This isn’t supposed to be your house, or your bedroom, or your marriage bed!”

I find my voice. “Yes it is, and yes I was, that’s what the whole point of the contract you signed with my father was about!”

“Oh my gods,” he throws his hands up and turns away, pacing around the room for a moment before stalking back to tower over me. “Do you remember what I said to you the day we first met?”

I swallow. “You said a lot of things that day, how am I—“

“Come on, you’re not this stupid, what did I say to you, that very first day, the first moment we had alone, on the specific topic of us getting married?”

I lick my lips and clear my throat. “Mama said that men often pretend not to be interested in order to make you want them more, and that if I just continued to be sweet to you and---“

“Oh for fucks sake!” My husband looks ready to pull his own hair out. “You have no idea how naive you are, you stupid, selfish child!” I take a step back. He takes a deep breath and glares at me. “I told you that I didn’t want to marry you. I told you that the only reason it was even on the table was because your father was threatening war against my people, and even with dragons we’re still recovering from our last war and are in no position to start a new one if it can be avoided. I told you that I wouldn’t make a good husband for you. I told you that your father was the one pushing for the marriage contract, not me, and that he wouldn’t take no for an answer from me. I told you that he’d listen to you if you told him that you didn’t want to marry me. I told you to tell him that you didn’t like me, that you didn’t want to move to Berk to marry someone you didn’t even like and that he should make a different peace arrangement because you refused to marry me.

“He wouldn’t listen to me because he thought I was trying to get a better deal out of the negotiations, and he wanted his only daughter married to a powerful chief because he cares about you so much. But if you told him you wouldn’t marry me he would have listened. We would have worked out different terms, we would have avoided war, and I would be spending this night in bed with the woman I was supposed to marry!”

“M-mama said that-“

“Well your mother lied,” he snaps, and I flinch. “Or else she was overly optimistic. I had to set someone aside for you, do you realize that?” I can’t look at him anymore. I don’t like this. I don’t like being talked to like a naughty child on my godsdamn wedding night by my own husband. “I’d been engaged for over two years, and the only reason I wasn’t already married by the time your war-crazed father came into the picture was because I pushed my wedding back in order to grieve after my dad fucking died!” I hear him huff and I just want to leave. “You have no idea how many lives you’ve ruined because you believed that if you were just cute enough and nice enough I’d fall madly in love with you. I married you because I didn’t have any fucking choice, not because I wanted to.”

“If you just give me a chance-“

“Do you know what this has done to the girl I was supposed to marry?”

I don’t want to hear about this. I ball my hands into fists. “I’m sure she’ll find someone else.”

His bitter laughter is my answer. “You don’t know how anything works, do you? I was with her for six years. I’d already deflowered her and everyone knew it, but no one dared say anything because they all knew I was going to marry her and you don’t start calling the future chief’s future wife a slut. But now? Her prospects are shot. Her family isn’t nobility. The bride price I already paid has helped them but they were counting on the social standing this marriage would have given them. She won’t find another match like this. And fuck, it’s not like I want her to.” He sighs again. “I was supposed to be with the girl I love, and instead I’m stuck with some kid.”

I stare at the floor while he stomps back over to his desk and collapses into the chair. When I look up he’s got his elbows on his desk and his face buried in his hands. He breathes deeply for a moment, and we he lifts his face from his hands to speak he sounds calmer.

“I shouldn’t yell at you like this, I’m sorry,” he says, though there’s still an edge to his voice. “You didn’t do all this on purpose; you’re just too young and dumb to realize what you’ve done.” He turns to look at me, and his face is like stone. “I can’t promise to love you. I can promise you that I won’t ever love you. I can’t promise to make you happy or give you children. I won’t sleep with you. I won’t consummate this sham of a marriage, which will make it a lot easier when you wise up and decide to get out of it. I won’t give you children. If you try to get pregnant through someone else and claim it as mine then I won’t recognize it as my child and I sure as shit won’t make it my heir.  If you want to sleep around then I don’t care, I won’t promise you fidelity anyway.” He shrugs. “I’ll try to be nice and I’ll try not to yell and I can promise I’ll never hit you, but I can’t promise that you will ever be happy here. This village doesn’t want to accept you and you’ll have a hard time fitting in. Your honest best bet for happiness is to go home and tell your father you want out.”

“You…you tried to tell me all of this once before.”

“And you didn’t fucking listen, and now we’re here. Here’s your chance to fix your mistake.”

I’m shaking. My whole body is shaking and I think I might cry. This isn’t what’s supposed to happen. This isn’t what I wanted. He’s supposed to fall for me. That’s what Mama said. I have to be sweet, and kind, and loving, and in time he’ll see me for the amazing person I am and he’ll fall in love with me. It takes time in arranged marriages, that’s what she said. It just takes time.

“I made my vows,” I say quietly, still staring at the floor. “I’m not backing out of this. I’m not giving up. You just don’t know me yet. Once you do, you’ll see. And…and we’ll be happy.”

I don’t look up at my husband’s disappointed sigh. “Then I guess we’ll all just be miserable then. That or I’ll wait until the rebuilding is done and go to fucking war.” I look up at that. Berk’s young chief, my handsome and unwilling new husband, is pulling on a jacket and slipping his flask into his pocket. “We’ve got dragons for Thor’s sake. I should have just taken the Honor Guard and decimated your father’s armada when I had the chance. But no, I wanted to be diplomatic. I didn’t want my first act as chief to be the destruction of another tribe’s fishing and trading ships.”

He walks to the bedroom door and yanks it open. “Wait!” I follow him through the main room and watch as he grabs his helmet and pulls open the front door, whistling for his dragon, who drops from the roof to meet him. I stop in the middle of the room, still too scared of that great big dragon he claims is friendly to go any closer. “Where are you going?” I try for demanding, but it just comes out sounding pitiful. He throws another dismissive glare over his shoulder as he mounts his dragon.

“It’s my wedding night,” he sneers derisively. “I’m going to get laid.” He takes off before I can say another word.  The cold air blows in through the open door as I stand in my quiet house, that isn’t really my house.

I wrap my arms around myself. “Mama said marriage is hard,” I remind myself. “It takes time.” I try to hold it back but I start sniffling anyway. “It just takes time…right?”

There’s no one there to answer me.

X

I have been married for a week, and my new husband has said maybe seven words to me in that entire time, aside from all the yelling on what should have been our wedding night. That boils down to a word a day, and even that is being generous. He's the chief, so I get that he's busy, but I would have thought he'd carve some time out for his honeymonth...and maybe he would have, if I was the mysterious girl he set aside for me. As it stands though, I'm just me. Just some stupid kid that apparently ruined his life to such a degree that he feels justified taking out his anger in this petty childish way by ignoring my existence completely. 

He's out so late there's no point in my waiting up for him, and he's always out the door before I wake up, assuming he came home at all. When he does sleep here, it's in his old twin bed in the loft upstairs, while I curl up alone in the big bed in what used to be his father's bedroom downstairs. I tried climbing into bed with him one night, but his stupid dragon woke him up and he yelled at me. 

I think that accounted for most of those seven words. What other interaction has mainly been grunting. For my part I've spent most of my time trying to turn this house into a home, putting out my things, blankets on the back of chairs and tablecloths on any surface I can find. Anything to make it feel like I sort of belong here. I cook for him, because I'm good at cooking and Mama always joked the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, but I don't think he's touched a bite I've cooked, other than maybe some leftovers when he's desperate. He eats in the Meade Hall most meals, or else makes his own or eats at his mother's. I keep trying though. I don't know what else I can do.

The people from my village leave the day after our wedding, Mama nudging me and whispering that no one wants to tear me away from my honeymonth, and that the sooner I'm with child the sooner he'll fall for me completely. 

I didn't have it in me to tell her how unlikely that seems.

I try doing his laundry, which he seems begrudgingly thankful for, though I get the feeling he would rather I didn't. 

Maybe because there are stains in his pants that my gut tells me are evidence of infidelity. Maybe. Maybe not. I...I honestly wouldn't be able to tell. I have only a theoretical knowledge about what such stains are supposed to look like, and I can't know if this is the result of him...taking care of things himself, or if his former fiance helped him out. 

Speaking of which, I still have no idea who she is, but I do know that the entire village probably likes her more than me. I’ve actually ventured out of the house today, heading down to the market to get more food so I can try yet again to entice my husband with my culinary skills. I try smiling at everyone I make eye contact with, and about half of them give me awkward, pitying smiles, like they know I don't belong here and don't want to say it to my face. The other half look away quickly and start whispering to those grouped around them. 

I'm wondering through the market, taking in the sights and trying to get an idea of where everything is when I collide with someone. I stumble backwards and trip on the hem of my dress, nearly falling over, but hands catch my arms from behind and steady me. I glance back to see my savior, and a boy with black hair and a patchy beard grins at me. He looks about my age, maybe a little older, that awkward handsome stage between teenager and young man. “You okay?” he asks, and I nod, smiling in thanks. I turn back around to see the person I ran into. It’s a young woman, maybe my husband’s age, and she doesn’t look happy.

“Um, I’m sorry about that,” I tell her, stifling nervous giggles. It’s a terrible habit and I hate it, but I can’t seem to help it. I get nervous, I giggle. For years it was okay, because it made me seem younger, and I’ve always been short for my age, so it was like a defense mechanism; remind people I’m just some tiny helpless girl and they’re less likely to get mad at me. As I’ve gotten older and reached the age where I need people to see me as an adult, it’s been less of an effective form of defense and more of an effective way of ensuring that everyone sees me as a child. I clear my throat and put on my most diplomatic smile. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, I really am sorry.”

The older girl continues to look at me with something like bored annoyance. Like I’m a minor inconvenience she’d rather ignore. Her blue eyes are piercing and I shift uncomfortably on my feet and offer her a hand. “I’m Maggie, by the way.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I know who you are. It was a very public wedding.”

My smile fades but I try to keep it in place. “Well, I guess so, yeah, everyone kind of knows who I am, but um, no one really knows me yet, so I figure I should start introducing myself to people, properly, you know? So, uh, hi, I’m Maggie Haddock.”

To my surprise the older girl scoffs. “No, you’re not,” she says flatly, rolling her eyes again. She glances behind her, and I see a group of people her age standing near a stall nearby catch her eyes and start snickering amongst themselves.

My hand is still awkwardly hanging in the air and I’m honestly not sure what to do with it. “Uh, I mean, I kind of am.” There’s that stupid nervous giggle again. “I mean, like you said, public wedding—“

She rolls her eyes again, still not actually looking at me. “You’re the chief’s wife but you’re not Maggie Haddock,” she intones, like I’m a stupid child who should know better. “I don’t know how they do it where you’re from, but around here women don’t take their husband’s family name. You’re still Maggie…whoever.”

I frown and drop my hand. “But I’ve heard plenty of women around here introduced as Mrs. Whoever, and it’s always their husband’s name.”

The girl sighs and crosses her arms over a chest far more impressive than my own. “That’s different,” she explains, forced patience dripping from every word. “That’s a title, a formality. You’re Mrs. Haddock,” and honestly she says it like it’s an insult and I don’t understand why, “just like my mother is Mrs. Hofferson, because that’s the house she’s the lady of, just like you’re the lady of the Haddock house.” She sounds bitter as she says the last part, and I wonder if she’s friends with the girl I replaced. “But while Mrs. Hofferson is a title and a form of respect, my mother’s name is still Ingrid Bjarnsen, and always will be. So no, you’re not Maggie Haddock.”

I finally drop my hand. “Oh. I uh. I didn’t know that’s how it worked around here. Where I’m from women are usually called by their husband’s last names, and a chief’s wife always takes his surname.”

“Well you aren’t there anymore, are you?”

This isn’t going well. So much for good first impressions with my new citizens. “Well, no. But, um,” I try smiling and holding out my hand again, “I’ll try again. Nice to meet you, I’m Maggie Rolvsdottir. Or Mrs. Haddock. Whatever you prefer.”

She stares at me for a long moment and then mutters, “Yeah, no, I’m not doing this,” and turns on her heel, stalking away from me and back to the group of friends. When she gets there another girl puts a hand on her shoulder which is swiftly shrugged off.

“Oh, okay?” I say to no one, and drop my hand. Well. That went great.

“Yeah, you’re not going to get the warmest reception from her,” says a voice behind me, and I turn to see my savior scratching the back of his head and looking after the girl with a crooked grimace. He catches my eye and smiles, holding out his hand, which I shake gratefully. “Gustav Larsen, by the way.”

“Maggie, or Mags. Whatever. Nice to meet you. I think you’re the first person to actually be nice to me so far.”

He shrugs. “I figure you didn’t purposefully dive into this fireworm nest.”

I only manage a hum in response to that. I start browsing the fruit at a nearby stand and glance at the girl who snapped at me. “So, why won’t I get a warm reception from her?” I nod at the girl.

Gustav looks surprised. “Has no one told you? That’s Astrid Hofferson.”

When this fails to elicit the response he was expecting Gustav winces and starts scratching at his patchy bead. “Ooooh, you don’t know, do you? Ah, well, let’s just say that’s the Fireworm Queen whose nest you dove into.”

I’m not totally stupid. It takes me a second of staring at Astrid Hofferson’s back but Gustav’s words and her attitude click together in my head and my stomach drops. “That’s the girl my husband was supposed to marry.”

“Yeah,” Gustav says slowly, like he’s apologizing. “You’re probably better off avoiding her and anyone close to her for a while. A long while. She’s not really someone whose bad side you want to be on, believe me.”

Astrid is still talking to her friends and I try to observe her surreptitiously over the fruit stand. At first glance it’s easy to see that she’s everything I’m not. She’s tall and thin but there’s obvious strength in her arms, and her chest and hips are far more impressive than mine. I’m short and skinny. Not thin, not lithe but strong, like she is; just skinny. Skinny and straight with a waist roughly the same diameter of my chest and my hips and legs like sticks. Her sleek blonde braid falls over her shoulder and shines in the sunlight. My mousy brown hair never shines like that no matter how much I wash or condition it. My hazel eyes have nothing on her blue ones.

I’m pretty, but I’m not that pretty.

My shoulders slump. “So that’s what I’ve got to compete with. I’m screwed.”

Gustav sucks in a breath. “That’s…not quite how I’d put it,” he says, but the way his voice cracks tells me that’s exactly how he’d put it. “You’ve uh, you’ve got a bit of an uphill battle, that’s all.”

I sigh. This all seemed a lot more doable before I saw who I was up against. “So. You said I need to avoid anyone close to her. Who all does that mean?” It would be nice to know who else is going to be mean to me before I get yelled at again.

Gustav sighs. “Okay, well, pretty much everyone she’s talking to right now.” The group is ignoring us and he points as subtly as he can. “So for sure the Thorston twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut. They’re hardcore loyal to Astrid and she and Ruff are best friends. The guy with black hair, I don’t know if you’ve met him yet, but that’s Snotlout Jorgenson.”

“He’s Hiccup’s cousin,” I fill in. It’s strange, but it feels odd calling my husband by his name. Maybe it’s because I feel like I haven’t even actually met him yet. We’re married but still not on a first name basis. It somehow feels less personal to just call him ‘my husband’. “I met him during the negotiations.”

“Yeah, I thought you might,” Gustav says, “He and Hiccup were never exactly close, but they’ve been in the same circle of friends for years, and he’s one of the original dragon riders, so he’s loyal to Hiccup and Astrid. He’s got a thing for Ruffnut, that’s part of it too, I guess. Ruff is loyal to Astrid, and Snot’s gonna stay in Ruff’s good graces which means taking Astrid’s side too. Then next to him is Fishlegs. He’s way too nice of a guy to actually be mean to you or anything, but he’s one of the original riders and one of Hiccup and Astrid’s friends, which means you can expect him to be really awkward around you. The tall muscular guy is Eret. He might be nice to you just because he hasn’t been on Berk long enough to be as invested in the Hiccup/Astrid romance as the rest of the town has, but he was an outsider and they were the ones who made him a home here, and he owes a lot to them both so, he’ll definitely be on their side.”

“Great,” I murmur. “So I have to avoid all of my husband’s closest friends.”

“Unfortunately, pretty much yeah,” Gustav gives me an apologetic smile.

I sigh and idly examine and apple. “Anyone else I should avoid at all costs?”

Gustav leans against the stand and frowns pensively. “Well, the entire Hofferson clan is understandably pretty pissed off. And there are plenty of people in the village who aren’t happy about this but I don’t think that many are going to be openly hostile to you. Eh, you should maybe avoid any high-ranking military people though.”

That makes me frown. “Why? I’m the chief’s wife, I figure I’m going to have to interact with political people at some point.”

Gustav winces. “Oooh, yeah, that’s gonna make things awkward.” He sucks in air through his teeth. “I mean, the dragon riders are all on the council, and well, Astrid’s the military general.”

Wonderful. So everyone on this island hates me. I square my shoulders.

It doesn’t matter. Hiccup is the one that matters. If I can make my husband fall for me, the rest of the island will do the same. His old flame will just have to get over herself. I glance back at her despite myself. She’s just…so much prettier than me. And older. And apparently my husband has already slept with her.

I was always told men wanted their wives to be virgins. That feels stupid now. There have got to be some men who want wives who know what they’re doing.

“Hey Gustav,” I ask, because he’s been nice to me so far and hel if I know who else to ask these things, “You seem to know the chief and his friends pretty well, right?”

He shrugs. “I mean, I guess so. I’m a few years younger than them and while I’ve never qualified for Berk’s Honor Guard I’m still an official dragon rider, so yeah, I guess I know them as well as anyone outside that immediate circle could.”

“Do you…I mean, my husband made it pretty clear that he wasn’t exactly happy with this arrangement and that I wasn’t his first choice in a bride.” I can’t take my eyes off Astrid. I know what Hiccup said but… “Do you think that Hiccup would—I mean, he was drunk and angry when he said it but, he kind of implied he won’t be loyal to me. I don’t—I don’t know him well enough to know if that’s true.”

Gustav whistles. “Shit,” he swears. “I mean, I know Hiccup and Astrid were super serious and everything, but I think Hiccup is probably too honorable to cheat, even if he’s not exactly happily married. And last I heard Astrid wasn’t even talking to him she was so pissed.” He shrugs. “I wanna say no but this is all so complicated I really don’t know what to tell you.”

“Oh. Okay.” I’m screwed, aren’t I?

Or, actually, I’m not screwed, and that’s the whole problem.

Gustav places a conciliatory hand on my shoulder. “Hey, I know this is kind of a crazy, messed up situation, but I’m something of an expert in crazy messed up situations, so if you need someone to talk to, I’m around. I’m usually in the stables or at the academy. I teach the intermediate dragon handling classes.” He puffs out his chest. “They finally trusted me to teach. It took years of shoveling dragon dung but I finally moved up in the world.”

He’s as serious as he is joking and it makes me laugh for what must be the first time since my wedding day. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I tell him, smiling.

He grins. “Speaking of which, I’ve got a class to teach soon so I gotta get going. But it’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Haddock.”

I shake my head. “Maggie. Or Mags. Mrs. Haddock feels too formal.” And it’s not even technically true. But I’m not really comfortable broadcasting the unconsummated state of my marriage, even if most people probably assume that to be the case.

“Alright then, Mags, I’ll see you around. If you need anything, you can just count on, a-Gustav.” He winks, and it’s stupid and it makes me laugh, and then he’s whistling and being picked up by a purple Monstrous Nightmare and taking off before I have time to ask him about the dragon.

Well, at least today was worth leaving the house. I managed to make my husband’s jilted ex hate me even more but at least I made a friend.

Someone clears their throat and I turn to face the painfully polite smile of the woman running the fruit stall. “Are you going to pay for that?” She asks, nodding at the apple still in my hand.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”