#my one and only oc with a nickname now has a second nickname haha

[serenpedac]

"comparing hand-sizes to hold their hand against the other's and then just holding hands" for Gabi and Farah please :) (no pressure!!!!)

PD!!! Thank you for the ask ^^

When seeing the prompt in the preview notification of this ask, my first thought was that I wanted to write this for Gabi and Farah, if there wouldn't be a pairing specified. And then you mentioned Gabi and Farah! That made me very happy haha! 

Words: ~460 Rating: Teen and up Relationship: Female detective/Farah Hauville Warnings: None

Read on Ao3 or below

“... and then he tried to run, but I saw him sneak away and ran after him and of course I was faster, so I did this move and tackled him and— You should have seen it, it was so cool! But then...” Farah’s hands flutter through the air, flashes of neon pink nail polish catching the sunlight, as she tells about an old mission.

Farah rarely sits still, Gabi has observed, her face changing expressions faster than Gabi can keep track of, her feet tapping a rhythm, her entire body moving as if she’s spilling over with life itself. Most of all, it are her hands that tell a story: the small, fiddling motions of her fingers during a boring meeting, the focused, precise movements when she’s concentrated on a drawing, or the wide gesturing she just stopped doing. 

Wait, she stopped? 

Above the hands that are suspended mid-story and mid-air, golden eyes are staring at Gabi from across the table. The twin buns on top of Farah’s head tip sideways as she tilts her head.

“What are you thinking, Gabes?”

“Nothing, really.”

“Nothing? Really?” Leaning her elbows on the table, Farah balances her chair on the front two legs. “That would be the first time ever you’re not thinking about anything.” 

Gabi pushes her hair away, only for it to fall right back across her forehead. Heat spreads up from her neck to her cheeks at being caught, at being known like this. “Alright, then, I was thinking about you. About your hands, if you want me to be specific.”

Farah holds one of her hands before her, lips pressed together in a pout as she considers it. Her nails are perfect, dazzling pink ovals against her dark skin. “You like this new colour? Morgan said it made her eyes burn.” The bright sound of her laughter fills the kitchen. 

“Did she, now?” It’s all too easy to imagine Morgan responding like that, and Gabi shakes her head with a smile. “I like it, it suits you.” She leans forward on the table to take Farah’s hand, pressing hers against it. The last phalanx of each of her fingers sticks out above Farah’s, her own nails blunt and square, the nail beds shortened because of years of nail biting as a child. They’re a far cry from the elegant and neatly manicured hands of the vampire in front of her.

With a quick twist, Farah turns their hands and raises them to press a kiss against Gabi’s knuckles. “I like your hands too, babe.”

An echo of the touch of her lips lingers, warm and soft and leaving Gabi’s chest aflutter. The warmth turns into something hotter, something glowing and molten, when Farah winks and adds, “You’re very skilled with them.”

#serenwrites #the wayhaven chronicles #farah now calls gabi 'gabes' #that just happened i suppose #my one and only oc with a nickname now has a second nickname haha #but really only rebecca calls her gabriella in my HC #so it feels like gabi is her real name anyway

[unfinished-projects-galore]

Ahaha….the basic NRC Uniform and Octavinelle Uniform sprites are finally complete

Reblog are extremely appreciated, just don’t repost my work :)))

I don’t have a name for my OC yet. It’s funny because I’ve already figured out their dorm, and their unique magic but not a name wkdkwkdkeke.

I’VE EVEN ALREADY DECIDED A NICKNAME FOR THEM. (The aquatic-related nickname that Floyd gives everyone lmao) They’re supposed to be called “parrotfish” but I’m not sure what the Japanese translation of that is (and I haven’t found a proper answer via the internet haha)

Their Unique Magic title/name is still in the works but it’ll either be “Destiny’s Draft” or “Schicksal’s Craft.” Given these potential names, I think you can assume his basic magic.

It’s under the faction of “Precognition.”

Since I’m still going with the whole, “shitty Oracle” idea, that’s exactly what his magic revolves around. He has the ability to be able to tell the future via losing mental consciousness and focusing majority of his magic to his right hand.

From there, his hand writes the prediction of the future. Naturally, it’s still possible for the implied event to be avoided or to not happen altogether. The only problem is, “how do you stop it from happening?” That’s where the drawback of his magic manifests.

The predictions written are in a poetic format. It requires a little bit of creativity and/or critical thinking in order to understand what it implies. It doesn’t help that chances are, the OC doesn’t even know what’s written on it as he is unconscious while his magic takes form. This means that he doesn’t always keep track of what future events will happen based on his prediction, and/or who it will happen to if he doesn’t see what his Unique Magic manifests.

It’s also possible for him to be able to access a glimpse into someone’s past, given that he has already come into contact with that person.

An example would be if, let’s say, he bumps into Deuce. He’ll be able vaguely see a “memory” of Deuce’s mother crying for her son for his misconduct. The extent of how much he can see is based off of what past scenario plagues the character’s thoughts the most. This happens immediately after coming into abrupt contact someone.

Naturally, this doesn’t happen all the time. This is one of many features of his Precognition magic that is triggered by unknown circumstances. Certain conditions must be met, and yet he doesn’t quite know what those conditions are.

It’s also possible for his precognitive magic to kick in automatically when he’s in danger. When this happens, he can see a premonition of the next 10 seconds, or so, and will hopefully be able to prevent the foretold scenario from happening to him.

Plot-wise, this character will fit in as an employee at Mostro Lounge wherein he works both front house, and as some sort of entertainer.

If a student or staff member so wishes to book an appointment with him, he can lend his Unique Magic and grant them a reading of sorts. Since he can’t see too far into the future due to him still practicing, he can only give them a prediction of what will happen to them within 30 days. 70% of his pay from his readings go to Azul/the Mostro Lounge.

That’s all I have right now, I’m not really sure what I’ll do with him from this point. I hope you’ll look forward to further installations of this character’s story if I do update him!

Thank you for reading this far/checking out my OC :)))

#digital art #digital fanart #illustration #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twst mc #twst プラス－B #twst fanart #twst

[rahleeyah]

OMG LEAH!!! S22 is finally showing here so i'm recording it because it's easy to watch during lunch but i am shook because i'm watching ROTPS and the translation in french is IN YOUR FACE!

literally the hospital scene instead of "you were the most... single most important person in my life" we get (retranslated) "you were the most important person in my whole life, there was only you" and THEN during the Elliot/Fin discussion instead of "who's the guy" we get "who's the father" so if you think Elliot has been in our face know that the french are saying "fuck this, we are known for romance and we don’t beat around the bush like you american pansies haha"

also Elliot says “we were so happy” instead of “we were happy” and it’s crazy how such a small word can make a big difference because sometimes scenes and relationships really receive other meanings and the subtlety is gone and basically it reminds me of how i way prefer to watch stuff in the original language when i understand it!!!

last note: everyone calls Olivia, Olivia, there’s no Liv in french (at least not that i have noticed recently!), mainly because it’s not really the normal nickname over here and it also flows a bit less so there’s no whole background of olivia becoming the more intimate name here

now kinda pissed that OC is not being shown yet, people are gonna get lost for some stuff pretty soon if they have no idea (and i do think the percentage of cluelessness is way higher here than in the us, especially without any publicity for it either)

can't wait to dissect all the following episodes when they come along!!

translations are endlessly fascinating to me and i love this so much thank you so much for sharing!! there was only you???? who's the father???? it's amazing how much nuance can be conveyed with just minor word choices and i'm always invested in how translating is an art; it's not just word to word, you have to get the sentiment right. so who's the guy to who's the father makes sense bc both convey elliot's jealousy and his need to know who meant so much to liv, but the second one does it even more. i love this.

but yeah i agree i feel like it's a weird choice not to also air oc. i mean, there's not been a lot of reference to elliot in svu, but when he turns up at the wedding? the people v richard wheatley? those epis aren't gonna have the same meaning without oc.

this is delightful tho thank you for sharing

#asks #e.o asks #s.vu

[twoidiotwriters1]

Pure Blood 24 (Sirius Black x F!Oc)

Words: 1,839

Masterlist:

Chapter 23 // Chapter 25

“Persephone," Regulus complains rolling his eyes. "How long are you going to be like this?"

"Until you tell me the truth.”

"You can't hold me forever.”

"Try me,” I tighten my grip around his torso and he sighs.

“There's no truth, I don’t hide anything from you.”

"I know you lie, I've known you since you were a baby.”

"Perse- let me go!"

"No!"

He grunts and falls silent and looks around, a bit embarrassed at the attention we're getting. I'm about to tell him something else, but a sneeze interrupts me.

“You're still sick and you’ll make me catch it too if you continue in this way!"

"It's worth it, so you won't go out with your mysterious friends anymore!”

"Ok, I'll tell you, but please let me go!”

Little by little I obey and we both stand face to face. He fidgets uncomfortably.

"It's not something… it's complicated, Persephone."

"I'm worried about you, Reg. Sirius told me that–”

"Wait, Sirius?" He asks raising an eyebrow.

"He saw you with Rosier, come on Reg, you always hated them, what’s changed?"

"Now you believe my brother?"

"Don't change the subject," I point out. "Why were you with them?"

"Nothing, it's a boys’ thing" he shrugs.

"Oh, come on. That doesn't work for me.”

"You can't know, Persephone," he says suddenly serious. "You better not go where it does not concern you.”

He walks past me and his shoulder bumps with mine. Never since I knew him had he treated me like this. He asks for space, and obviously I won't give it to him, he's hiding something from me and I must find out.

Trixie left, Sirius is acting suspiciously nice, I’ve to catch up on my assignments, Remus following me like a shadow and my cold, which is almost out of my system, but I'm still sneezing. And I can't enjoy winter, I’d love to see snow cover the school, but no.

What else can go wrong?

I walk into the Great Hall and sit at the lion's table. Jenna’s on my left, Lily is on my right, while Remus is in front of me and Peter’s next to him.

"And the other two musketeers?" I ask him. Remus shrugs.

"They've been acting pretty weird lately."

We didn’t give it importance and we continued talking. Lily’s explaining to me something they did in the history of magic, but I was distracted the moment two Ravenclaw girls passed very close to Remus, they see him with a smile, whisper something, laugh and continue on their way.

Lupin also notices but he just looks down and his cheeks turn red.

"What just happened?" I say interrupting Lily.

"It doesn't matter," Remus whispers.

"You say it like it's happened to you before, Wolfie," I raise an eyebrow and he just shakes his head.

"Didn't the girls leave you alone?" Lily adds looking at him worriedly.

"Wait, which girls?"

Remus looks at her pleadingly not to say anything to me, but Lily ignores him.

“Some girls find what happened with Trixie and Remus very funny. 'I can't believe she noticed him' and 'He's the worst of the marauders' is what they say–”

"They say what?!”

"Percy, forget it, it's not worth it,” Remus says trying to calm me down.

"Of course, those lies are not worth giving importance to–”

“No they aren't. They are right though, everyone is. I'm a laughingstock.”

"You can’t be serious.” I can't believe Remus thinks that. His eyes look at me sadly and I feel my heart shrink.

"Remus John Lupin stop thinking like that!” He rolls his eyes.

"Percy the faster I accept it, the less damage."

“I’m offended!"

“Persephone,” Lily warns me, but I ignore her.

"I can't understand how you think like that, Remus."

“Percy…”

“No, I will not allow it. If you only saw yourself as I do, you would think differently. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. You’re kind, intelligent, you defend your friends and family, you’re stronger than you think! You still don't believe me?"

He scratches the back of his neck.

"Remus, you’ve helped me in so many ways, I cannot see you as a bad person, or as a loser, do not compare yourself with your friends, everyone has their qualities and if others don’t see how incredible you are, then they lose. Besides, that's better since I'll have more of you all to myself,” I joke and he smirks.

"Thanks, Percy."

I want to answer, but I see another group of girls in the distance who point to my friend. My body feels tense and I stand up despite Remus and Lily's warnings.

"Hey!" I yell at the group and they stop laughing. "If you want to keep talking about Remus, it’d be better to say it to our face and not just laugh like kids and then run away!" The girls blush and try to hide at their table. Now I have the undivided attention of others. “And this goes for everyone else, why don't you get a life instead of continuing to talk about what happened with Trixie? She’s gone, stop being idiots and let others live!” I glance at Remus. “Remus Lupin is one of the best people who have studied here and is much better than the vast majority of you.”

Some others whisper among themselves. I ignore it and sit down again. I've never seen Remus so flushed, but at least he's smiling.

"You didn’t have to do that.”

“A ‘thank you’ would’ve been nice,” I joke and he laughs.

"Don't worry, Remus. Surely after that speech, the girls will be behind you,” adds Jenna sarcastically.

"Yeah sure," He snorts.

“Hey!" I complain "Didn't you just hear what I just said?”

"Thanks, Percy. But you have to admit that I’ve never been good at romantic relationships."

“What?"

"Name a girlfriend of mine, skipping the devil," He says with an amused smile at the nickname.

I think for a few minutes and realize that it’s true. Remus hasn't had a girlfriend. I completely ignore the thought of my older sister having a crush on him.

"It doesn't matter, you’ll find a great girl, who’ll have to be approved by Lily and me,” Lily rolls her eyes. "All in good time, Wolfie. Soon you will have to reject your admirers.” He laughs.

"Surely.”

"Enough of so much negativity! You’re a very handsome boy, any girl would die to be with you!”

"Whatever you say, Percy,” I don't like the way he says it. How can he not tell how wonderful he is?

“Remus," I complain.

"Okay, maybe you're right, but I don't think any girl would-"

I don't let him finish, I pull his shirt to bring him closer and I kiss him, closing my eyes. I never would have believed that Remus' lips were so soft and delicate. For a few seconds I feel that he wants to reciprocate the kiss and- damn- he’s good. But the kiss suddenly ends when he pushes me away. I open my eyes and meet his pale expression and that's when I realize what I just did.

Holy shit.

I sit back on the bench and I can feel many glances on me.

"P?" Jenna asks, but I don't dare look at her, I keep staring at Remus.

"Uh, that- that's a test… maybe now everyone will notice you?” I stutter.

I grab my bag and run out of the large dining room with my eyes downcast to avoid everyone's stares.

What else can go wrong?

“Sirius?"

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"Only this happens to you.”

"Thanks for the support.”

"Why the fuck did you kiss him?"

"I don't know, Jenna!"

"Do you know what you need?"

"Kill myself?"

"No, a girls' night" she says excitedly and I complain.

"Not again…”

The girls have been having sleepovers for a long time and Jenna has always invited me, but I always decline. I know Lily's friends are good and our relationship has improved and blah blah blah. But I’ve never been one of those things, now less, they’ll want to ask about what happened.

"Come on, I just ask you to be one night!"

"That's what everyone says," I say putting a hand on my chest exaggerating. Jenna sighs.

“Please?"

"But they’ll about ask what happened and talk nonsense and I'm going to be uncomfortable…”

"P, If you feel like this, I’ll give you permission to go, please, just one night!"

I see her pleading face and I growl.

"At least I hope sweets.”

“Sure."

We were silent for a few seconds.

“Don’t you really know why you kissed Remus?"

“No!"

"There must be a reason…”

"Well, I don't have it.”

“P…”

I pout.

"Stop scolding me,” I say taking my green blanket and putting it over my head. Jenna sighs.

"We were just coming off the Trixie drama and now you come up with this!”

"You're going to make me cry.”

"I think that's my job," says a third voice. We look up and behind our couch is my older sister.

"I don't want to see anyone anymore, come back later or never, thank you.” I complain now, covering my face behind the blanket.

I feel the chair move and I hear a little "I'm sorry" from Jenna.

"They say you were in the infirmary.”

I uncover my face and glare at my sister.

"Yes, like three years ago, thanks for worrying, sister."

She rolls her eyes.

“Not all your rumors interest me and most are false. Like that one about you kissing Lupin,” She says disinterestedly or so it seems because her eyes are towards the fireplace.

My body tenses.

"Er, haha, yes, people make up a lot of things…”

“Did you?" She says suddenly, her voice fails a bit.

"I didn’t plan to fall into the black lake,” Felix did.

"You know I'm not talking about that.”

What, this is not the invisibility blanket?

“Juno…”

"Is it because of what you read in my journal?"

“It's not what you think, I don't know why I kissed him, I don't understand, I'm trying not to panic, but come on Juno. Your crush with Remus was nothing serious, was it?"

"That does not entitle you to–”

"You sound like dad already,” I wince.

"At least I'm on his side.”

“Now, let's talk about family favoritism!”

"It is not necessary, we both know that you’re no longer on that list.”

I grunt.

“Is that what you came to then? To claim something from me that you have no right to and to emphasize the obvious– don’t you have something else to do?"

Her response was a clean slap on my innocent cheek.

“You’re a mess, Persephone. You always were, now the whole family knows it and soon all the important people of the magical world will know it too,” She says and smiles falsely. “Can’t wait to see you at the meeting,” She ends and then walks away.

“Ouch…" I rub my cheek.

Taglist

@treestarrrrrrrr @siriuslysirius1107      @thagreenmoon @madmaiden2890  @ren-ela   @avipshamitra   @auroraawrites @findzelda  @lizlil @siriusmuch   @chloe-geoghegan1 @reverse-hxlland  @may-rapp @the-specific-oceans

 @bloodorangemoonlight​

@eveft​

#Pure blood #hpfanfic #sirius black #sirius black x reader #james potter #remus lupin #harry potter #twoidiots writing

[snow-wind-and-all-we-will-find]

Hi! My names arthur and im working on improving my word and building my story, which currently has no name haha! I have a myriad of characters who ill try to list out and give brief descriptions of, aether is technically my main character and some of the characters who are up for question are dead in canon. But you can still ask them stuff, itll just be set before death.

When asking characters questions, rememeber to include the name, their age if theres diffrent ages, i dont mind repeated questions, but if you see the question try not to ask it again lol. If you cant find it with a quick scroll just ask it, although i dont know if this blog will even get that big.

Aether

He comes in three evolutions lol, technically, theres four but idk if i would count 7 year old aether.

Ages: 13 yo - colder, hasnt gotten used to emotions, there are two to this as well, pre-rev and then post-rev 13 yo aether, remember to specify lol.

16 yo- a bit more out there, still kinda disconnected and figuring things out, a bit more defensive

22 yo- lax, hes sorta figured shit out, hes not going to go grazy, hes just gonna be chill lol.

!The gaggle Ghosts!

Yurei

Her personality is very, ehhh, becuase i havnt done work with her, and i havnt completly figured out who she is fully yet, shes 18 yo when aether is 22 yo

18 yo- pretty oblivious, somehow still a bit cynical, very nice and sometimes motherly

Kakoku

Few thousand- mean, likes to bully yurei as he huants her, lowkey a simp for yurei but he wont admit that. Kinda cynical and likes to bring others down, generally a bully

Tamashi

19- emotionless, has to be a really strong emotion to make her emote, tends to stray away from other people, likes to be alone, blunt

Gunnar

A few thousand- sweet, warm and welcoming, tries to be very fatherly and a trusted figure, is very busy most of the tiime unfortunatly though.

!The greek gang!

Argus agapov

16- unstable, pretty baby, protective over friends and family

Mythos agapov

23- whore. He also loves his family, lowkey, hes a trad wife

Perceus

15/16- timid, intrested in posiosn and acids, generally quiet, likes to eat leaves, scaredy cat

Diogenes

14- germ of phobe, kind of a brat, more just a bitch, will yell at you if he sees your hands were dirty from gardening or something while you’re walking to the sink, other than that hes fine, picky eater

Herodotus

15- disorginized, trys his best, likes to write stuff down, helps plato with his writing and grammar in general, gullible, likes record data, has a nice typewriter with tha good clicky clack

Plato

8- sweet baby boi, loves his older brother (socrates), idolizes him even, not a good idea though. He writes down everything socrates does, sometimes he imitates his brother as well.

Socrates

17- dumb of ass, also just dumb, held back a grade, feral child, bites alot of people, soft aestechic but hed stab as a warning

Heracles

30- also dumb of ass, loves cars in that ‘mah babeh’ kinda way. Hates motorcycles, he thinks they’re ugly. Chaotic but he utilizes it to be the weird and cool uncle/cousin thing

Zeus

46- too tired for this shit, is a dad, went out to get milk, jk jk, dissapeared for a hot few years, probably got captured by some gang dunno, it happens. Very serious, would make the dumbest jokes with his brothers with a straight face

Hades

50- lowkey the neglected middle child, soft goth lookin ass, loves his kid, tries his best to raise his kid, sometimes gets help from esme

Poseidon

57- proud stay at home dad, buff but does the typically wifely duties, makes sure his children get enough love, nutrience and care

Lillith

54- very active, the money maker, kinda soft, both her and her husband poseidon are so just in love with their kids, dote on them constantly, very extroverted, always makes time for her kids

Esme

51- tired of zeus’ shit, does her best to make sure no one dies, still treats mythos as her ‘little baby boy, tired mom vibes.

!the Eden gang!

Eden is a fictional country that i slapped onto the globe. It is where aether is from, technically aether is apart of the eden gang as well. Everyone here, if they have an age option, the first age option is the age they are when aether is 13, and the second will be when aether is 16 unless stated otherwise

General kyelli

49- fatherly, thinks of most of the gang as his children, calls everyone ‘son’, as a general rule. If you ask for another nickname, he will do his best. Has a bad knee, and is kinda of bad at existing physically

52+- fatherly still, loves almonds, always has a bag of almonds, dont test him. Enjoys travel, might adopt people he meets along the way, still has pains but now he sees doctors, wants to stay active

Indigo

13- sweet, optimistic, always looks on the brightside and tries to see the good in others. Little heater, understands that sometimes fighting is the only option

Akrano

16- lively, very loose and relax, can get serious when needed though, always making jokes and trying to lighten up the mood

19- a bit more, mellow. Still quite lively and childish, but with two signifigant-others you have to settle down sometimes

Ekrano

16- lively, more stern than akrano and kinda worried, but ultimatly also very loose and bright

Lilliana

16- serious, seemingly colder towards everyone, gets along great with psycho-lops, makes him new eye-patches to pass time, actually just very monotone and blank most of the time, although she does care

19- she doesnt change much, she got a bit more expressive, likes babysitting howl

Psycho-lops

16 1/2- always looks determined, actually kinda scared of conflict, likes to help out with healing though, very proficient in it as well, sounds intimidating while talking about how cute puppies and kittens are

19/20- still the same, is considering studying medicine and medical practices to become a doctor.

Bark

17- bright, incredibly lively, loves to joke around and tease and sometimes bully the others, targets aether primarily, hangs out with his brother most of the time, he can fight for himself but he likes the backup, especcially since he is kinda glass-jawed, being that hes a twig

Bite

17- quiet, intense eyes, always sounds vaugly confused when he speaks, deep voice lol, likes to train, doesnt understand barks need to tease others, likes to read to the children

20- quiet, intense eyes still, more so nervous sounding, slightly paranoid, cluastrophobic and cant stand dusty places, usually in his house or at the docks, doesnt really go anywhere else

Hanelle

17- loud, headstrong, adamant about her opinions, gets along well with bark, she tries alot to be intimidating, not a twig, but not very big, pretty friendly and sociable

!the band of pirates!

Aklea

A few hundreds of years- kinda bored seeming, loves blood, technically cannibal, but not really since he isnt human, to an extent. Despite being fine on the ocean, he gets very car sick very easily. Actually quite nice, very easily triggerd into violence, especcially by something that could be used as a good murder weapon, blood makes him jittery and more lively

Nerone

21- calm, too calm, deals with akleas bullshit wonerfully, he just stands there, blank smile on his face as aklea beats the shit outta someone, unintrested in most anything, likes to draw, but hes a much better pastry chef.

!the shakespears!

Midem(pink boi)

33- lively, loves to work with kids, very creative, likes to make things, mainly art, mainly carvings. Often make little minitures of scenes from midens writing, loves his twin, does anything it takes to fund midens intrests. Very loving to those hes close to

Miden

33- calmer by alot lmao, pretty introverted but he can hold a long conversation without becoming too drained, enjoys writing and making stories, also makes plays for fun, runs off little sleep cuase he stays up so late to write, and gets up early to write.

!gods!

Gideon

9 billion- confused boomer, loves his ‘children’, hates to be hated, always tries to help in anyway he can, despite making them, always curious into what mortals are doing, loves the universe he created and does anything he can to protect it

Merik

7 million- sore loser, does get a little salty, ultimatly bounces back and becomes a very good sport, always will adopt tactics, whatever it takes to win within the rules, keeps most all of his trophies from random feats hes done

Ventus

5 billion - calm, straightforward, tends to disregard others and do things himself, likes to sit on cliffs and watch the ocean

Kyle

Hes been around since 776 bc- very loud, lively, bright, tries his best to educate people on proper form, workout regime i intesne, doesnt allow others to take it, makes custom workout regimes for free, owns a gym, dude bro but hes nice, baby

Horo-sha

Her age technicaly is not accurate, shes like, 2 billion? Since dima was made right after her death. But since her history still lives, ima count it

5 billion but older than ventus- bitter, violent, former god of justice, fucking dead haha, hates mortals, primarily humans

Dima

Also not super accurate, hed only be a few centuries of being an active god before being sealed, but since hes technically, concious and has cognitive function hes counted

3 billion- mean lol, likes blood and gets even more violent when it starts getting messy, ‘new’ god of justice, uh, pretty bad at it like the last one, but worse, will kill over slight misdeameanors, everythings a crime smh

!misc!

Ivan

24- softspoken, from imperial russia, died young, he no longer feels his face is his own, has a mask that he likes better, has the sickness, but since he was human it killed him, can control it post mortem, is strong enough to be seen, but weak enough he can go invisible and go through solid objects.

More ocs will be added when i remember them, or create new ones, characters i dont really have built at all are not included

[broken-hearts-lives-among-us]

Pretending (Part 4) Jughead J. x Reader

Hi~ Long time no read haha, I honestly drop this story because my life became busier with college, and then I stopped watching the show as the plot lose my interest. Yet, as I was reliving my Tumblr I came across with Part 3 and Part 2, which I really enjoyed, so I thought I might just give the story an end, since I’m fond to the characters of the show and my own OCs, Not really sure if anyone is gonna read it, specially since I won’t be following the exact plot and timeline as the original show, but, I kinda feel that’s what an imagine is about, so ooopsie

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Summary: Drama in Riverdale seems to never end, your home-life was a mess, your past was still hunting you, yet, breaking up with your boyfriend was the last straw that broke the camel’s back. How are you supposed to go through all the chaos that was coming? Are you going to keep pretending to be the normal nice girl? Or his your heart willing to reveal it’s true skin?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Pairing: Jughead Jones x reader

Words: 4583

Note: English isn’t my first language, I deeply apologize for any mistake.

Disclaimer: Since I’m writing this as someone who doesn’t follow the current plot of the show, I’m unaware of the fandom’s situation, so I just want to clarify that this fic is only meant to entertain, it doesn’t hate or trash in any character, I still love the cast of the show so I’m not here with any negative vibes, pls keep it like this, I’ll try my best to write the most human, imperfect, mistake makers characters, you’re welcome not to read if you don’t like it, thanks y’all!

“Easy there, Hot Dog.” you said calming down the little dog that seemed overwhelmed by the presence of the beanie-less Jughead Jones III. “He’s family.” You added smirking at him, quite pleasant by the shock in his features.

Tall Boy started talking, dragging his attention from you to the man. “We heard your dad could have named names, but he didn’t.”

His eyes were on you just as he heard that, you just winked an eye to him.

“We wanted you to know, no matter what happens to him, however long he's gone, we've got your back.”

The serpents were all looking at him, some with decision and compromise, some with thankful welcoming eyes.

“This is yours… If you want it.” You mentioned, giving him a leather jacket with the Southside Serpents’ logo.

Your heart flattered as you saw him putting on the jack.

Good Lord, he’s hot.

No one could deny how good Jughead looked in that jacket, it suited him perfectly, he belonged to them. You looked at him, smiling as you with that quirky sparkle in his eyes, and he smiled to you slightly.

Like it was meant to be.

“Juggy?”

Snap.

That’s how you felt your world while you and the Jones kid both turn around to see a pretty blonde girl hiding her body behind the wall, confusion marked all over her face. It didn’t take you long to notice the state of her clothes.

His clothes too.

Oh.

Noticing the sudden mood in the air, Jughead spun around seeing at your figure with horror in his eyes.

“I think we might have interrupted something, gentlemen.” You said towards the group without looking at him. “We should leave.” You got down the stairs as you suggest the departure.

“Dismiss.” Ordered Tall Boy, everyone following you, as you became smaller and smaller with the distance.

You collapse in your homemade bed as you arrived at the Whyte Wrym, you’re staying in a little room at the second floor thanks to the fact that the manager owned FP a favor. You felt Hot Dog jumping by your side.

“Can you believe it Hot Dog?” you said looking at him incredulous. “I mean, yeah we waited because when we started to date we were too young to make that kind of things, but even tho, hell they have just been some months together.” You covered your face with your hands, memories of Jughead’s touch filling your mind.

He was so fucking good and lovely at bed.

And now all of that was in hands of the Cooper girl.

“Here comes the green-eye monster Hottie.” You announced looking at the puppy. “How he dares forgetting me so easily? I’m glad we ruined their night.” You huffed crossing your arms.

As your head started to hurt you decided it was better to sleep than overthink. You cuddle as you could, embracing Hot Dog between your arms, closing your eyes hoping that the next day you would be blessed to avoid the beanie boy.

Successfully, you hadn’t see your ex for a week or so, apparently, he kept dumping classes to go to the northside, but who could blame him? With all this Archie’s father being shot and The Black Hood thing going on, it was pretty normal for him to be there.

If not, he was shut in the Red&Black newspaper office. It was kind of funny, yet kind of sad how you two would remain like strangers under the same roof, even if not so along you were soulmates.

With that being said, today was an odd day, you entered your class as normal, your presence shutting down everyone as usual, walked to your destined seat, in front of Toni, diagonal to Sweet Pea and beside Jughead. What?

You faced at your left being welcomed by those intense blue-greenish eyes that could make everyone in the room faint with a stare. You looked sights for a second, broke apart when the professor entered the room.

He started to talk, the class started to become noisier, making the teacher fight for the attention, it made you grew impatient at the idiotic attitude of your classmates. You harshly kicked the desk at your right startling everyone, the room fall in silence just a second later.

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.” said the professor continuing with the lecture, you nodded absently as you tried to focus on his words rather than the handsome boy next-desk that couldn’t keep look away from you.

The class kept the same pace you had managed to achieve, your mind spaced out as the clock’s tic-tac rhythm filled the room, making everyone count the seconds unconsciously. Distracting you from the pass of the time a little paper ball was throw to you from your left.

You opened cautiously, no bothering in turning around to see the paper’s owner.

“What was that?” was written in a small quick handwriting.

You furrowed your eyebrows crumpling the paper and throwing it away.

Just a few seconds later another paper ball landed in your desk. You sighed no bothering open it, you just set it aside.

A minute later it wasn’t a ball what arrived, it was a full paper plane with the words ‘Stop ignoring me’ written at a wing.

You opened it tired of the little game.

‘What was that?’

You rolled your eyes taking a pen answering. ‘What was what?’ you threw the paper at his direction not even looking, you could hear Toni chuckling behind you, well at least she was having fun.

The paper was with you a minute later, his plane form was built again.

‘Earlier you hit a desk, and everyone shut up.’

‘Yeah, you’re welcomed.’

You extended your arm to pass him the paper this time, your hands touched as he took it.

‘I owe you my life ;P but my question was why did they shut up because of you, they looked afraid.’

You couldn’t help but smile a little at the little face he drew in the paper. ‘Oh no, they weren’t afraid. Well, not at all, they just respect me. And lets just keep it like that.’

You looked at him finally, leaving the paper at his desk. “End of the conversation.” You said quietly, the bell ringing just a second later, you took your stuff and stormed out of the class before anyone else.

Jughead’s PoV

I sat at the canteen with the other serpents, my eyes instantly scanning the place to see a certain Y/H with Y/H/C.

“Where’s Y/N?” I asked as she was nowhere near to be seen.

“She doesn’t sit with us.” Said Sweet Pea bluntly.

I just throw a confused look to Toni.

“She just sits there.” She said calmly pointing out at her in a desk a little far away, all alone.

“What the hell?!” I felt by heart sinking in fear at her sight “You just let her sit alone?! The Ghoullies are gonna eat her alive!” as sudden as I said that the table broke in laughs.

Noticing my unbelieved face Toni faced me. “I kind of think she sits there to protect us.”

“How?” I asked as her answer didn’t make any sense.

“Well, she used to sit with us, but the Ghoullies did come to bother her even if we were with her, after that she started sitting alone.”

“The Ghoullies stopped coming, just focused on her.” Continued Fangs.

“Why?”

“Because she was Southside’s bookworm.” Answered Sweet Pea making me glared at him because of the nickname he has given to her.

“And even if we tried to help her she stopped us.” Fangs sighed as everyone else nodded.

“But now none of the Ghoullies has the guts to face her.” I looked up at Sweet Pea who was smirking at Y/N’s direction.

I arched a brow confused. “Are you kidding me?”

“No” said Toni smiling. “It’s true, it was awesome Jones. One day an idiotic asshole Ghoullie mentioned her family and threated her about hurting her cousin.”

“She exploded.” Fangs concluded with a glint of joy in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” I said gulping the anxiety out of my voice.

“She beat the hell out of him and his friends.” Sweet Pea nodded fondly at the memory.

“Sweet Pea had to stop her when she took the fire extinguisher.”

He nodded again. “I’m still curious about what she would have done with it.”

“That’s how she finished earning the respect of all the gang and the school.” Toni finished, all looking at Y/N’s desk where she ate an apple reading a little book in her other hand. “She looked so hot. The serpent’s loner wolf.”

“Riverdale’s Sweetheart.” Argued Fangs earning a glare from Toni.

“Southside’s bookworm.” Said SP taking part of the argument.

I felt my blood boiling at their comments. “That’s enough.” I scold them loudly dragging their attention to me. “Stop tagging her for God’s sake. She hates that. You can’t just classify her in a category you know? Y/N is just too unique to fit in one of those mundane descriptions.” I ranted taking my tray.

I leaved the serpent’s safe zone and proceeded to walk towards the girl with the serpent jacket and the book.

“Mind if I sit?” I said taking the seat in front of her.

“I actually mind, yes. But as always you’re just gonna do whatever you want.” She said not even looking at me.

I took a moment to appreciate her, with all the shit that has been going on the town, I hadn’t notice her subtle change, her makeup was just a smidge more notorious and rebellious, her hair was more wild, her soft face was now contrasted by her hard expression, her Serpent jacket embraced her body in all the right places, she emitted this new sensation of power and sassiness, even with the sweet glimpse that was still in her eyes.

“You know Jones? That look you’re strolling all over my body can be consider sexual harassment, jail won’t be seen good at your curriculum.” She said quietly, yet cold enough to freeze my train of thought.

I blushed furiously as she noticed it. “Sorry, it’s just… You look different.”

“I guess.” She muttered bluntly.

“It suits you.” I smirk at her slightly.

She looked at me for the first time in all the conversation. “Thanks.” Her eyes sunk down at her book again, I didn’t feel her blush, her voice didn’t stutter neither, her eyes didn’t look at mine with warm, unlike every time I used to compliment her, and it hurt me, the fact that she treated me like a stranger was slowly killing me.

“Y/N… Listen, I’m being honest. I don’t like our current status.” I said snatching her book to have her full attention.

“Oh, you mean ex-boyfriend and ex-girlfriend? Well I’m sorry it bothers you, but it wasn’t my decision.” She took the book away from me.

“I know… I know I hurt you and I’m sorry for that, I didn’t mean to screw up the things between us, but, can’t we just be friends? Please…”

She locked eyes at me, thinking quietly, she slowly began to open her book, ready to ignore me again. Being as fast as I could I took the book again this time my other hand has gripping her wrist.

She sighed. “I guess I could pretend to.” I could her the bluntness in her voice.

“Pretend?” I repeat quietly amused. “I was expecting something more real… Like a true friend, I need you here Y/N.”

“Well I’m sorry it’s disappointing to you but is the best I can offer you.”

“Why can’t we just be friends, like when we were kids… Come on, don’t you miss me…?” I hold her hand between mine, craving to feel her warming soft skin.

“No. We can’t.” She removed her hand from mine.

I silently cursed, her rejection hurting me down my soul.

“Why not?” I asked bitterly.

“Because friends don’t love each other like I love you. Because friends don’t crave for the touch and the kisses of the other. Because friends can be okay to see you with your girlfriend. But I can’t, I can’t be your friend because I’m in love with you, you idiot, I want to be your girl, I want to be your best friend, your confident, your person. But I’m not, so don’t ask me to be okay and be your friend. Because I can’t, I just can pretend to.”

I saw her eyes growing watery, but I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t react I didn’t know how, she has never talked to me so harshly. She blinked, stopping the tears from falling, she avoided my eyes and stood up, walking trough the door, leaving me there, with her book between my hands, in the cold lonely bench, in a cold lonely mess.

I saw the book’s cover, it was a little antique poem book we stole from the library some years ago, I flip the pages until end, there in the back face of the book, was a little photo attached with some tape, it was an old polaroid photo of us, with Tobias, the baby was in her arms giggling, I had my hands in her waist as I embraced her, she between my legs, her back leaning against my torso, I was looking at the camera with a faint smile, and she was…

She was looking at me…

I tighten my grip on the book as I exanimated her face, her pupils were slightly bigger, and her smile was little, but warmly breathtaking, her eyes were soft, I knew that expression, it was the same she put whenever she admire something, like an art piece, or when Tobias said his first word, I loved that expression, yet, I never knew…

She saw me like that.

My heart sunk as the realization that maybe, maybe all this time I never took a moment to realize those little things about her, and our relationship, and now it was too late to think of them, maybe…

Maybe I got too used to have her around, that I looked at her, but I didn’t see her.

Life has mastered the irony, as the loner boy was now the one to say hi, when he was the first to say bye, and the sweet girl refused to answer back as she tried hard not to fall apart.

I went to the Red&Black office to clear my mind, I took the local newspaper and my heart pound as a read the headline, a cryptograph from the Black Hood to solve? Sounds like a case for Sherlock Jones, I sat starting to analyze it when the creaking sound of the door caught my attention.

There she was, Y/N herself entering the office with Toni, some boxes in their hands.

“Oh, you’re here.” Toni said putting her box in the desk.

“Yeah… Hey have you seen the news?” I said looking at both.

Y/N just left her box next to Toni´s and stormed out of the room.

Toni looked at me with a scold on her face. “Did you do something to her?”

“W-What? No, she’s just… We’re in the middle of the ex’s war zone.”

“Ex?” She said widening her eyes.

“You didn’t know? I thought you knew her!” I replied mimicking her expression.

“And I do, but she never talked about her love life, I didn’t get to ask her neither.”

I sighed covering my face with my hands. “Don’t tell anyone.” I asked sternly.

“May I ask what happen?” She said raising a brow. “Like bro, who dumps a girl like Y/N? or what did she did for you to leave her. No wait, did she dumped you? That makes more sense.”

I looked at her, too tired to explain myself or to discuss, I just told her everything vaguely.

“So, Mrs. Pony Tail and you started to grow closer, you both develop feelings and she convinced you to try a relationship even tho she knew that you were Y/N’s everything.”

“No!” I yelled angry. “When you say it like that it sounds cruel.”

“And you really just left an almost three years, relationship like that. You’re easier than I thought Jones.”

I growled. “Thanks Toni.” I give her the newspaper changing the subject. “Wanna solved it together?”

She sighted looking at me, smirking faintly. “Hell yeah.”

Y/N’s PoV.

There was an awkward silence in the room, just the sound of the pencils on the paper or the flipping of the pages filling the mood.

I can’t really tell how I ended up in this situation, I just know that I gave up at Toni’s begging for me to join she and Jug to decipher the Black Hood’s code, but she never mentioned it was going to be at Jug’s trailer, neither she told me that Betty was coming too, although the pissed expression in her face makes me believe she had no idea.

The bright side of this was that Kevin had come too, I was so happy to see him that I just jumped into his arms when he noticed me, he was currently resting my back against mine as we helped each other to reach a comfort

“These symbols look so familiar to me.” Said Betty breaking the silence, catching all our attention. “It's like I've seen them before and it's driving me crazy I can't figure out where.” She added sounding frustrated.

“Maybe if you loosened your ponytail.” Said Toni bluntly. I facepalmed internally as I saw the offended faces of the Northsiders. “What? That was a joke, guys.” she cleared, yet it was already too late, I sight hearing Kevin’s indignation.

“Betty's ponytail is iconic and beyond reproach.”

“Kev. It's fine. And at this point, I'm willing to try anything.” Betty said loosening her ponytail as Toni said, being free from it.

I looked at her for a moment as the other returned to discuss the important matter of the night. Betty wasn’t a bad girl, not even close, yet I couldn’t help but be mad, she knew all my story with Jughead, every single fucking detail, and yet she didn’t even think about it when they started dating… But then again, I didn’t have any right in the Jones boy… He was free to fall in love and leave, so was Betty.

I heard vaguely part of their conversation as I started to feel dizzy, getting even sicker as I notice the tension in their voices, there was a war getting near, I could feel it.

“No, I mean like why, why is he killing people? Or at least, why now? We know the Hood's obsessed with cleansing the town of sinners and hypocrites, right? And he seems to be attacking anyone with ties to the Northside.” I tried to focus in Betty’s analysis as my head spun around.

“Here we go with the fake news again.” Said Toni getting in a defensive attitude, I slapped myself mentally finally waking up as I knew this wasn’t going to end well.

“Toni.” I said calmly looking at her. “Breath.”

“No! This Northsiders and their privilege. All you do is demonize the Southside so of course you think the Black Hood's from there.”

“It's not demonizing, Toni. It's stating facts.” Betty excused herself not helping Toni to calm down. “There's way more drugs and gangs.” The little Cooper continued, yet it didn’t take long for Toni to interpose.

“And the drugs you mean which were sold primarily to Northside crackheads? And what about the Northside Neo-Nazis?” Perfect, Archie´s little gang was now on the discussion. I looked at Kevin’s awkwardness, sharing the feeling, as we were the ones in the middle watching all the drama.

“The Red Circle?”

“The Red Psychos, you mean. Hell, Betty, I'm surprised you haven't just come out and said it yet.”

“Said what?”

“That you think the Black Hood's a Serpent. We all know how much you hate us.”

“Okay, Toni. I don't hate the Serpents.”

“Oh, yeah? Says the girl who stole a good friend’s boyfriend, mostly just as a whim than for love. Then, tell me why is it that your boyfriend here lies about the fact that he sits with us at lunch?” She ranted her breath getting heavy, I took her arm as I stood up.

“That’s enough Toni, we should go okay?” she scoffed taking her arm back from my grip but starting to gather her things.

“Yeah I’m gonna go too.” Said Kevin looking away from the situation. “Maybe I can walk you home.” He added looking at us, Toni just glared at him. “Or you can walk me home.” He muttered as we exit the trailer, making me chuckle a little.

I took a last glance at the quirky couple we had left behind, being slightly worried for the fight I knew we had caused.

I sighed shaking the thoughts from my head and I looked at Kevin. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“I don’t know, then you’re gonna be all alone walking in the middle of the night when you return.”

“Who said we were going to walk?” I smiled at him passing him a helmet.

He gasped at the sight of it and looked at me in disbelieve. “No way.”

I just laughed. “This way.” I said guiding him to where I had parked my motorcycle. “Beautiful right?” I said caressing the seat.

“Who would imagine little sweet Y/N in a beast like this?” He said amazed. “Boys most be head over heels for your bad girl version, right?”

“Just a smidge” I winked at him jokingly “Wanna do a bad boy version yourself?” I said sit think in the motorcycle “Come on lazy turtle, hop on.”

After dropping Kevin at his house, winning a worried glance from our local sheriff by the way -I guess laying to him didn’t help our relationship- I returned to the White Wrym ready to shut everything down and gain a good night of sleep.

-

Since the day after the “solve coding party” was Saturday you decided to help serving at the White Wrym thing you usually did whenever you got the time as a way to show gratitude for your little room and your food. Life was just easier like this, not worrying about anything or anyone, your only problem now was, ironically, Forsythe Pendleton Jughead Jones III. Screw him for interrupting your peace.

“What are you thinking about?” The voice of the pink haired serpent girl woke you up from your thoughts.

You looked at her for a straight second without saying anything as if you were still on a trance.

“Um.. . There’s a murderer on the loose, I have to finish my report before Monday and Hog Eye is running out of tequila” you listed as you cleaned some glasses from the place “There’s a lot to think about Toni”

She raised an eyebrow skeptical “Yeah… Sure… That includes Jughead Jones, am I right?”

“Not quite actually, but it does include the little war that was throw yesterday at his trailer” You looked at her putting a glass down and sighed “They’re not bad Toni, Betty is not just a basic mean girl… She’s nice”

“Are you really defending that white Northside girl? And after she stole your boyfriend?” She asked indignated.

You took a heavy breathe “Northsider or not, that doesn’t matter at all, she’s not bad, and I still appreciate her as a friend. Am I hurt? Yes. Am I angry? Yeah, a little bit. But Betty didn’t put a gun in Jones’ head, he could have said no, yet he didn’t, and is his right, and is her right to fall in love with whoever she wants… I believe in sorority and I can’t just judge her and shame her or hate her because of this… This things… They just happens sometimes. She’s not the bitch you think she is.”

Toni looked at the floor taking your words in, thoughtfully, maybe even a little ashame.

“But” you continued, smiling at her truthfully “I highly appreciate the fact that you like me enough to acknowledge and worry about my feelings, thank you Toni, for real, you’re a great friend” You took her hand squeezing it a little bit, she looked at you slightly surprised at this new face you had never show to her.

You didn’t saw, or heard about anyone from the other side of the own in the whole, it was just as usual as before everything in Riverdale started falling down.

And even if you felt comfortable with the mood, you couldn’t help but think it was a bit strange too, as you saw the moonlight walking down the rain, an uneasy feeling started forming on your gut. Maybe it had something to do with the serial killer on the loose, maybe.

You heard a spray paint can, the unique sound of the paint being ejected against the wall caught your attention, yet you didn’t look for the source, since that wasn’t unusual in this part of the town, you decided it was better to ignored it, but after hearing Archie’s voice you couldn’t help but turn around.

“You can’t just come here and tag our turf.” Said Sweet Pea with anger in his voice. “So why don’t you get your ass back to the Northside before someone gets hurt?” He snapped at Archie threatening.

“Get my way, or someone will be hurt” said Archie without a glimpse of fear in his voice.

“You just made a terrible mistake” you saw Sweet Pea taking his knife out of his pocket, your blood turned cold and you ran as fast ass you could.

“Sweet Pea! NO! Stop!” You yelled, your words trying to reach him. Yet your steps stopped abruptly as you saw with fear the gun Archie had in front of you three, as you heard his heartbroken, heavy, tired and paranoid voice screaming “Who made a mistake?!”

“What the hell?!” Was the last thing you heard from the pair of serpent that was there before they ran off, yet you didn’t run, looking straight into Archie’s eyes.

You watched him carefully as he put the weapon down, breathing heavily squeezing his knees.

You contemplated the big red circle on the wall for a minute “I’ll guess you need a ride” He looked at you saying nothing, still in shock.

“It’s been a long time” You commented as you stopped in front of Archie’s house “The last time I was here Jughead broke my heart” a bittersweet laugh scape from your lips but you shut it as you saw Archie’s uncomfortable expression.

“Sorry, that was something dumb to say” the blush in your face creeped as you apologized.

Archie nooded, not knowing what to say “Do you want to come in and dry yourself?” He asked with concerned seeing your wet dripping because of the rain.

You smiled at him feeling that little nostalgic warmth “Yes, yes please” he opened the door as you followed him, both of you oblivious of the worried blonde her next door.

“Veronica? I think you better come here, quick!” Said Betty, concerned following her trembling voice.

“Archie might cheat on you!” Was the last thing Veronica Lodge heard before hung up her phone.

~

Hi again~ if you read everything till here and you liked it, thanks for the support! I’ll do my best to not disappear again oopsie

Tag list:

@somethingweird168 @evanpeters3826 @trumpettay @oxoxo0 @superhalsteads @the-mad-girl-with-a-book @beforethebraces @agusdoti @zarinnaaaa @unaveragewriterfreak @k-n-e @letsdosciencekids  @immanuelreblogs @prettyylamee @honeyveeeee @sineadgereal @buttercups145

#riverdale imagines #jughead imagine #jughead jones #jughead x reader #cole sprouse imagine #cole sprouse #forsythe pendleton jones iii #x reader #riverdale

[heckyeahitsnick]

Her Soul is Like Magnolia

Written By: @heckyeahitsnick​

Pairing: Harry Styles/OC

Word Count: 20,979

Warnings: Some explicit/foul language

Summary: 

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

Harry Styles has a ghost problem.

Mags has a Harry Styles problem.

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

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

Day 1: October 24th, a week from Halloween

“You’re stepping on my foot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait! I’m sor – “

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_______________________________________________________________________

Day 3: October 26th - 5 days until Halloween

“Be honest with me. Am I gonna die?”

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

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

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

“But I – “

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the boy! The boy from last night!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_______________________________________________________________________

Day 4: October 27th, 4 days until Halloween

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

“What’re you doin’?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you promise not to laugh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pinky promise.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Same day, later that evening

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

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

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

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

Hey, It’s Harry. Harry Styles.

Before she could respond, her phone dinged again.

Or as you like to call me, Ghost Boy.

harry!! im so glad u txted!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Things?” Mags encouraged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 5: October 28th, 3 days until Halloween

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Boo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The diner that Harry had chosen was very kitschy, decorated in a way that heavy handedly embraced the retro 80’s vibe, with neon signs and polyester covers on the booths. The diner even got into the Halloween spirit, as evident by the fake bats that were hung all around the place, and the jack-o-lantern tablecloths covering each tabletop. Harry and Mags were seated across from each other, staring at the menu, as a male artist’s voice crooned from the juke box, singing about holding hands.

“So,” Mags began as she finished assessing the menu, “My options are either a hamburger or a cheeseburger. How ever will I decide?”

Harry laughed at her reaction to the limited food options. “What can I say? Don’t need really need too many options when everything tastes amazing.” Ordering a cheeseburger and coke for herself, Harry followed suit, and Mags inquired, “You come here often?” “Yeah,” Harry admitted, his fingers interlocked and resting atop the table, “I just really like the vibes. It’s also a 24-hour diner and I’ve been coming here more often within the past week, since I’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

Right. Harry’s haunting problem. She’d almost completely forgotten, but she wasn’t really to blame. Was she really supposed to stay focused when she and Harry had walked to the diner, their arms intertwined, chatting about anything and everything? When he sat only a few feet across from her, trying to catch her eye but also nervously looking away?

“Hopefully, you can finally start getting some rest soon enough. Maybe we’ll finally be able to put this whole ghost business to rest tonight,” she suggested optimistically.

He gave her a sad smile in return. “Hopefully,” he said, his voice betraying the fact that he didn’t really believe that to be true.  

Her heart ached for him once more, so she decided to change the subject. “What song is this anyway? I kinda like it. It’s cute and – what?”

Harry regarded her strangely. “What’d ya mean who is this? It’s the Beatles.”

“Like the bug?” she joked, before quickly admitting, “I’m kidding, I know of the Beatles. I just don’t usually listen to this kind of music, now don’t go and have a heart attack,” she explained as Harry eyes had initially widened at her statement.

“So, what kind of music do you usually listen to?”

“I’m definitely a top 40’s kind of girl,” Mags responded, shifting in her seat. She thanked the waitress, who adorned a festive witch’s hat, as she set down their cokes and began to work on unwrapping her straw, planning to blow the wrapper at an unsuspecting Harry’s face.

“Top 40’s? What’s that?”

“Y’know,” she responded, “Like, the top 40 songs that are most popular on the charts. The songs that are always playing on the radio.” Harry held his hand against his chest, as if he couldn’t fathom anything worse. “You are so pretentious!” She laughed, “Those songs are popular for a reason!”

Harry laughed too, making sure to let Mags know that he was really just teasing her, no malice behind his mockery. “And just when I thought there was absolutely nothing wrong with you, you go ahead and admit to that.”

Mags couldn’t help her own smile from creeping across her face. “I’m far from perfect Harry.”

There’s a look of affection that seems to flash in Harry’s eyes and Mags flushes, not really sure how to deal with it. “Yeah?” he responds, looking down to swirl the condensation pooling at the bottom of his glass of coke, “Could’ve fooled me.”

The rest of their dinner passed by in a similar fashion. Comfortable jokes, casual conversations, and longing looks passing between them. It was the first time that Mags had ever seen Harry look truly happy. She decided it was a good look on him, and right then and there, she made a silent vow to herself that she would do everything in her power to keep that happiness. Even if it meant she’d have to face the devil himself.

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

Although Harry’s house was cold, it was still much warmer than the bitter icy wind howling outside. Entering his home, Mags immediately took off her shoes and coat, with Harry following suit. She looked to him to see where she should place her coat, and when he removed his dark peacoat and tossed it over an armchair, so did she. He was wearing a cranberry colored crew neck sweater, and he wore it well, leading Mags to ponder if his closets were just an endless supply of comfy clothes, each cozier than the last. Not wanting to be caught eyeing him, she shuffled into the living room, pausing to scratch Pumpkin under her chin, just like she liked it, and to drop her duffle bag onto the floor.

“There a bathroom just down the hall, if you’d like to change into your pajamas there,” Harry offered. He scratched the back of his neck, “I’m just gonna, um, go in my room and change into mine to give you some privacy. I’ll meet you back out here and maybe we can watch a movie or something?”

“Sure,” she replied, somewhat amused. In the bathroom, she changed into her pajamas, which consisted of an old Maroon 5 shirt she had from years ago and a pair of soft fleece pajamas. When packing earlier that day, she had briefly considered wearing something a bit more flattering, but she realized it was futile because she liked to be comfortable when she slept, let alone the fact she didn’t actually own any proper sleepover, her pajama wardrobe made of oversized promotional t-shirts unsuitable for public wear. She washed her face and turned to face her reflection in the mirror. She gazed at her big, brown eyes, droplets of water tinting the tips of her lashes. Her warm tawny brown skin seemed dull and washed out under the harsh fluorescent bathroom lighting. Her dark hair was due for a haircut, and in its windswept state, wasn’t doing her any favors. She swept back her hair into a high ponytail, the stubborn baby hairs quickly reclaiming their rightful spot by framing her face.

Mags was never one of those girls that couldn’t acknowledge that she was pretty (not that girls who struggled with their beauty were less than, everyone had their own struggles. Mags was a large supporter of girls and wouldn’t speak ill of her sisters). She found that she did quite well with the male population, garnering attention when she so desired, and sometimes unwanted attention as well (looking at you, creepy Walmart man that had the audacity to comment on her big boobs just because she wasn’t wearing a bra). But then men she usually gave the time of day weren’t men of substance. Usually, she sought them out for something physical sans the intimacy. But something about Harry had her feeling self-conscious, unnerved. Raw. It was like he was appreciating her outer beauty but also truly seeing her, erratic enthusiasm and all. And even more baffling? He seemed to like what he saw.

Mags broke out of her reverie and found Harry lounging on the couch, remoted aimed at the tv as he flipped through channels. He looked up and automatically offered her one of his signature smiles, “You look lovely,” he commented nonchalantly.

“Thanks,” she responded reservedly. She joined him, careful to sit on the other end of the couch and looked around. “Where’s Pumpkin?”

“I put her on my bed,” Harry confessed, “Figured it’d be more comfortable than the hardwood floor.” “You’re gonna spoil her,” Mags snickered, “She’s used to sleeping atop the rusty radiator in my apartment.”

Harry and Mags quickly decided they should watch a movie, both wanting to stay in each other’s presence for a little while longer but struggling to find the words to express as such. Picking a movie, however, was a more difficult challenge as Harry felt that he’d had enough horror in his life to last a lifetime and couldn’t bear to suffer through another horror film, prompting Mags to put on “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before,” partially because she wanted to annoy Harry and partially because she just thought the move was really cute, okay? The joke was on her, because apparently Harry loved romance films and was really into the movie.

As entertaining as the movie was, both found their eyes wandering from the screen, looking at each other and quickly glancing away. Mags was very hyperaware of Harry’s presence on the couch, aware of his every movement. It was like her body was in tune with his. Meanwhile, Harry couldn’t help himself. He automatically gravitated to her, like he was seeking out warmth that only she could give. Mid-movie, they found themselves to be sitting side by side, practically no space between them. If Harry wanted to, he could reach out and enclose her hand with his.

And he wants to. And so he does.

And she doesn’t pull away.

They don’t speak, just hold hands, the only source of light illuminating from the television. Neither saying a word in fear of breaking the moment. Harry finds that for the first time in a while, he feels safe. Safe and happy. He hopes she feels the same way. 

Needing to hear her voice, to get some reassurance, Harry breaks the silence once again, his eyes never leaving the scene playing out on the television. “I don’t get this part. Why is Lara Jean so scared to be with Peter? She’s so hesitant when he obviously cares for her and she does too.”

“I think it makes sense. It’s pretty accurate,” Mags responds, shrugging slightly. “Yeah? Why’s that?” “Because,” Mags bites her cheek in contemplation, “Love is scary, y’know? And letting yourself fall for someone? That’s…well, it’s terrifying.” “Not if it’s the right person,” Harry said with all the sincerity of an honest man, before quickly adding as an afterthought, “And obviously, Peter is the right person for Lara-Jean.” “Right, for Lara-Jean,” Mags agreed a little too quickly, “But it’s still scary nonetheless. Some guys aren’t all that great. It’s hard. To trust someone else, to trust them with your vulnerability, to let them know every part of you, and trust them not to hurt you.”

Harry broke the spell. He no longer referred to the characters and implicated himself. “Y’know I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you, right? I…I care about you. You do know that, don’t you?”

As she peers up at him through her lashes and meets his widened eyes, she becomes mindful of how close they had leaned towards each other. She fidgets under his intense gaze, his green eyes piercing through her own. She feels the warmth of his hand on her thigh as he inches closer until his forehead rests against her. A loose stray curl tickles her cheek and his lips just barely brush against hers. She hesitates for only a moment before deepening the kiss, pressing her lips against his forcefully. He pulls away, his pupils blown and the smallest of smiles playing on his lips, and his eyes scan her face for reassurance. Whatever he’s looking for, he must find because he rushes to close the gap and his soft lips captures hers again. She responds eagerly and her hand cups the nape of his neck. His tongue lightly sweeps across her bottom lips before slipping into her mouth, making her hum in approval.

He gently pushes her back until she’s lying on the couch. He breaks the kiss for only a moment to pull off his t-shirt and toss it carelessly across the room before swinging his legs over her until he’s practically straddling her. One hand flies to his head, pulling at his curls as the other rakes it’s fingernails into his shoulder. She angles her head back and lets out a sharp intake of breath as he leaves a trail of wet kisses down her neck. She feels the hand resting on her lower back slide up and swiftly unclasp her bra. His hands explore her body until he’s palming her breast, grazing her nipple and rolling it between his fingers, making her gasp. Harry always thought of himself as an ass man, but now, in this moment, he has a newfound appreciation for breasts. Her tongue darts between his lips hungrily and he pulls his body closer to hers, grinding steadily. She can feel her whole body on fire, the tingling sensation spreading to the pit of her stomach. Her hands immediately go for the band of his pants, but she breaks away suddenly, and he outwardly moans at the loss of contact.

“What – What is it? Are we moving too fast?” Harry questions, panting rapidly.

Mags places a hand against his chest, as Harry allows her to push him upright and she follows suit, both now sitting up.

He would never forgive himself if he had pushed her and scared her away. “We can slow down. I didn’t mean to –“ “No, shhhhh,” Mags harshly shushed him. “Don’t you hear that?” And suddenly, they’re still, unmoving like stone. The house just as quiet as the two, the only sound filling the air is their own ragged breathing stabilizing. In the silence, just as suddenly, another loud creaking resounded against the wooden interior.

“Okay,” Harry said anxiously, his eyes wandering upwards from where the sound was seemingly coming from, “I heard that.” “Do you think it’s Pumpkin?”

“I’m gonna go with no, considering Pumpkin’s right there by the fireplace.” And sure enough, Mags turned to see her kitten had at some point, bounded into the room and found comfort beside the warm flames.

Then an even more frightening sound could be heard. Mags would describe it as heavy, a hefty thumping sound that was very different from something that could be explained away, like the light scurrying of a rat.

Harry would describe it as footsteps.

It was irrational. Mags couldn’t explain it. She didn’t know what making that sound, but she did know that the sound was frightening her. She couldn’t rationally chalk it up to the characteristic creaking of an old house or wood settling, the thumps were too loud, too sporadic. Logically, she knew she should use the flashlight on her phone and go straight to the sound source. But the fact of the matter is, she’s scared. 

Just when she began to steady her racing heart rate and begin to think she could work up the nerve to go investigate the sound, a sudden crash came from the other side of the room, causing her to yelp in surprise and clutch Harry’s arm in fear. One of the picture frames that Harry had hung on the wall fell on to the ground, the glass shattered from the impact. It just fell. Nothing to cause it, as if the material had literally leaped from the wall to its untimely death. “Fat load of good you are,” Mags glared at Pumpkin who, unbeknownst to the danger, was playing with a discarded bottle cap.

Harry put in quick work to shrug his sweater over his shoulders, and then taking care to ensure that Mags wasn’t too frightened. “Well, at least now you believe me?”

“Believe you?” Mags asked in disbelief, facing him “I more than believe you. I think, I think we should get outta here. Let’s just go stay at my place.” She frantically stood up, brushing her stray hairs from her face, trying to clear her mind so she could form rational thoughts. Harry stood up just as suddenly, standing next to her, holding her elbow and shoulder, pulling her towards him in a comforting hug. 

“We need to come up with a game plan,” she said, her breath slightly muffled as she nuzzles her face against his sweater clad chest. “I think it’s best if we just spend the night at my apartment. And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Harry questioned encouragingly. 

“We’re going to do whatever it takes. A cleansing. Research. Anything to un-haunt this house, because this shit? It’s scary.”

They both spared one last glance upwards, to where the sound was coming from, an array of emotions filling the room; frightened (Mags, because ghosts can’t exist, they just can’t. It transcends the rules of physical science!), agitated (Harry because how could he be so dense as to put Mags in danger, though he figures that once she sets her mind to something, there’s no stopping her), and confused (Pumpkin, wondering why the humans were looking up when she was right here, as she softly mewls from the lack of attention).

_______________________________________________________________________

Day 6, October 29th, 1 day until Halloween.

The sun filtered in through the linen curtains, illuminating the white sheets beside her, warming her skin and giving her a bronze glow. Mags slowly peeled her eyes open, immediately noticing Harry’s absence. His side of the bed was empty, and Mags wasn’t sure how to feel. Was it really just a few hours ago that her world was shook by the presence of ghosts? If science wasn’t solid, then what else was there to rely on?

Once they got to her place, they were both too strung-out and tired to do anything. They shuffled under the covers and slept in her small bed, sleeping together in the most innocent way possible. The only touching was the hand holding that occurred under the bed, which although much less risqué than what happened last night had it not been for the potential ghost encounter, the thought of which still made Mags warm and blush. Stretching out her limbs and gathering her relentless hair into a manageable bun, she created an itinerary for herself. Bathroom first. Find Harry, second. Figure out what happened last night, third. Although she wasn’t so sure about the last one. Did she want to figure out the ominous sound they heard or figure out exactly what happened between her and Harry last night? All she knew was, it was way too early for this.

Once emerging from the bathroom, she tuned into the sounds of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen, immediately deducing Harry’s whereabouts. She knew it couldn’t possibly be Marisol, because she’d never be up this early, and she knew she had spent the night at Niall’s place.

His back was facing her, his shoulders moving as he poured batter into a frying pan, Pumpkin nuzzling against his ankles. Mags didn’t even know they owned a frying pan. Marisol and Mags mainly lived off of frozen dinners, take-outs, and Niall’s generous discounts at the café where he occasionally moonlights as a waiter.

“G’morning,” she croaked, alerting Harry to her presence. She cleared her throat and tried again, “Mornin’, Harry. What’s all this?” “I’m making pancakes,” He turned, greeting her drowsy appearance, his voice thickened with lack of use, guttural and raw. “Ran out to the convenience store this morning and grabbed some ingredients. Figured we could both use a hearty breakfast.”

Mags hummed in appreciation, rubbing a sweater-clad fist over her dreary eyes, sleepily offering help which Harry firmly denied and directed her to sit at the small kitchen table. “Are the pancakes chocolate chip?” “Is there any other way?” Harry responds, smiling warmly at her sleepy antics. He sets a plate of scrambled eggs and chocolate chip pancakes in front of her, placing a bottle of syrup within her reach without her having to ask.

Mags suddenly felt out her element. She wasn’t used to this kind of treatment with any guy she had ever been with, and she technically hadn’t even been with Harry. Was she meant to kiss him in appreciation? He was so tender in everything he did, always putting her needs and comfort first. The situation was foreign to her, so domestic and comfortable that it made her feel uncomfortable. “Um, thank you – It all looks delicious,” she finally managed to stammer out.

Harry carried his own plate of food in one hand, his other opening the fridge to grab a carton of orange juice. Witnessing how comfortable he seemed to be in her small apartment made her unnerved, but it was also exciting. Thrilling.

As he sat across from her, their eyes met once again. “I figure,” Harry began, “I mean, I think that we should probably talk about what happened last night. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Mags agreed, nervously wringing her fingers, “Good idea. It…scared me. Um, I didn’t like it.”

Harry’s face blanched for a moment before he smoothed his features into an expressionless façade. “You didn’t?”

“Of course, I didn’t, it was just so…I don’t know how to put it. It all happened so fast, one thing after the other. It’s a lot to process.

Harry nodded slowly, gently, as if Mags was fragile and he was handling the situation delicately, although she couldn’t figure why. “It is a lot. And it was a bit fast. Maybe we need to just slow down and figure out what it meant?” He suggested nervously.

Mags eyed him in confusion, his apprehensive demeanor puzzling her, as she continued speaking. “It was just so unexpected. I didn’t think that was going to happen when I went to your place last night. It was so awful.” Harry’s brows furrowed together, looking wounded, as he murmured, “I mean, well me neither but I don’t think it was necessarily a bad th-“ “What do you mean you weren’t expecting it?” Mags probed, pausing to chew her scrambled eggs, “it certainly seems like you were positive that it would happen.”

Harry’s face, despite his efforts, flashed with hurt. “Well, I mean, I hoped it would happen but of course I wasn’t expecting anything. I just –” Abandoning his food, he rubbed his hands over his curls, then dropped them to rest against his knees, palms up as if pleading, “Look, I really, really like you and obviously it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way but I really thought - ”

“Who says I don’t feel the same way?” Mags questioned in confusion, wondering if perhaps Harry, as cute as he was, might’ve been a few screws short. Guess people truly can’t have it all.  

Meanwhile, Harry’s own face contorted in confusion, his voice borderline hysterical. “What do you mean who says, you says! I mean, you just said that you didn’t like what happened last night.”

“Right,” Mags nodded empathetically, “The noise we heard really scared me and I think it’s quite normal to not like the fact you have an actual fucking ghost in your house.”

A beat passed. Then another.

“Did you think I was talking about, whatever happened between us?” Mags clarified, gesturing at their bodies. When Harry offered a sheepish look in response, Mags smiled with fondness, putting her fork down on her plate. “You’re silly. Let me be clear. Ghosts? Bad. Harry and Mags? Good. I’m not sure exactly what happened between us last night, but I like you. I think it should happen again, minus the paranormal encounter. Not just the, erm, the touching part. The diner part. The talking part too. We can table that for now and come back to it when we aren’t in fear of lurking ghosts. We can figure that part out together.” The relief that washed over Harry couldn’t have been more evident. “Oh thank god, I’m so happy to hear you say that,” and when Harry was happy, Mags couldn’t help but think that the sun was trapped within him, warmth, comfort, and blinding brightness and all. “And um, what about the other thing? The ghost thing?” Mags beamed at him, at the 6-foot boy that towers in her small apartment but looks over at all five feet of her with concern and care, before replying, “We can figure that part out together too. I have a game plan.”

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

After the tenderness and confusion of their morning breakfast, Harry and Mags got dressed for the day, each renewed with a determination to solve this ghost problem of theirs once and for all. It wasn’t just Harry’s problem anymore. Harry’s safety and happiness were now Mags’ priority as well. Cleaning up and getting dressed took a little longer than usual, as they spared moments to steal glances and accidental touches. By the time they made it out of her apartment, the sun was brilliantly shining in the sky, for once the skies clear of any clouds, and it was noon.

Mags truly did have an anti-ghost plan. And she intended to put it to use before tomorrow. It was as she explained to Harry, that tomorrow was Halloween, and everyone knows that on All Hallows Eve, the world between the paranormal and normal collided. Her extensive repertoire of horror movies led her to confidently assert that the if the dead were to roam the earth, then Halloween would be the best night to so do. She figured that now since science and everything she’s ever known has changed; she might as well rely on literature to guide them through this ordeal.

“So, first on our agenda is to seek out a priest,” Harry commented, eyes squinting at the sun, hand firmly holding hers. “Which church should we go to?” “Askin’ the wrong person here,” Mags chuckled while gesturing to herself, “Nearest mosque, I could help ya with. But church?” “Right,” he said, blushing despite her obvious joking tone, “Well, I guess we’ll have to trust google?”

Finding the church was easy enough. Getting the minister to believe that they weren’t pulling a prank was a little trickier. After much clarification and pleading, they left the church armed with some information.

“I dunno about you, but this bottle of holy water has me feeling a bit indestructible,” Harry joked, wagging the holy water tauntingly. Mags owns hands clutched the pewter candlestick holders and candles the church had generously donated to them. Though they had initially hoped for the church to interfere with their dilemma, the resources and tips they provided would just have to do. “Although,” Harry said, raising his eyebrows, “I must say, I’m surprised.” “Why? ‘Cuz I thought of such a brilliant plan?” “No. I’m shocked that you were able to last that entire trip to the church without swearing even once.” Mags opened her mouth, feigning offence, before shoving him. “So, what’s next?” Harry questions, after composing his laughter, “A psychic?”

“A medium,” Mags corrected.

“Oh, I didn’t know there was a difference,” Harry admitted good-naturedly.

“Me neither,” Mags confessed, but google sure did.

As they followed the GPS directions to the location of where the medium was located, Harry had another question. “How’d you pick this medium? Does she specialize in ghosts and exorcisms?” “Hmm?” She said, looking up, “Oh no, she just had the best Yelp rating.” She scrolls through her phone, thumbing through the device before presenting it to Harry. “And, she’s got a Halloween special going on right now. 50% off for her services. Pretty crafty of me, huh?”

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

The medium, a woman named Clair LeMadeline, had looked relatively normal. Her red hair curled into define ringlets and her eyes were a piercing blue. She was wearing a simple pea blouse and black slacks. The only thing that was even considerably odd about her appearance was her green eyeshadow, bold and unnaturally glittery. She was a stark contrast from what Mags was expecting, which was a woman, possibly raven haired, with a crystal ball in a dark room with thick purple drapes.

Even more so, she had hoped the woman would be able to help them out a bit more. For someone who claimed to have a unique ability to hover between two worlds and a connection with spirits without a physical body, she wasn’t really helpful.

Mags recalled the only bit of information that was slightly useful. Clair had taken Harry’s hands into her own, hoping to get a ‘read’ on his aura.

“Ah yes,” she had said, her sharp nails outlining the lines on Harry’s palm, “I’m sensing something here. I see that recently in your life, you’ve come upon some suffering.”

“Yes!” Harry fervently nodded, with Mags reservedly watching from his side.

“Your future,” Clair continued melodramatically, her eyes tightly shut as she focused, “it’s blurry. Unclear. I see, red liquid. Lots and lots of red. It’s staining your shirt, dripping onto your shoes, there’s so much red.”

Harry’s face pales, dread overcoming him, as he frantically tightens his hold on the medium’s own hands. “Is it blood?”

“Hard to say, but my best guess is that it is indeed blood. Yes, I can see that. And, you’ve suffered a great loss. I also see here that you’re a widower.”

“Erm, no,” Harry confessed, pulling his hands back slightly, “I’ve never even been married. Way off base.”

The medium had looked slightly put out with that comment, “Well, I never. Surely you must’ve been married. With those dimples and a body like that, you’ve probably had your fair share of wives. You don’t have to lie to impress your little girly over here,” she harrumphed, gesturing towards Mags.

“Okaaay,” Mags announced, offering the medium a tight polite smile, “I think we’re done here.”

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

“That was a waste of time,” Harry groaned. “She was obviously a scam artist. Also, I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.” He glanced at his watch and groaned even more audibly, “And we’re running out of daylight. Halloween is tomorrow. What are we gonna do?”

“That woman certainly was…a lot of things,” Mags said, carefully choosing her words, “But she was surprisingly helpful.” Harry brows furrowed, his face distorting in disbelief. “Think about what she called you,” Mags explained, answering his unasked question. “She said that you were a widower.” “And you believed her?” He explained, “Mags, I’ve never – “ Huffing slightly, she interrupted his speech, “Okay, no. Obviously, I’m not an idiot. But that just got me thinking. Didn’t you say Bertha was a widow? Do you know anything about her husband? Maybe we can look into his death. Maybe his spirit was awoken by the Ouija board and it’s restless for some reason and unless we help him with his unfinished business, he can’t pass over to the other side.” “You’re a genius,” Harry commented, which prompted Mags to thank him and inform him with sincerity that it was all because she watched a lot of Buzzfeed Unsolved. “I don’t know much about her husband, but I know how we can find out more.”

And that’s how Harry and Mags found themselves standing on the steps outside the town’s public library. Harry’s idea was brilliant, Mags had to admit. The town newspaper always printed the obituaries for residents that passed. Older editions of the newspaper could be accessed using the microfiche. Even more promising was that if Bertha’s late husband had passed under unusual circumstances, the paper was sure to have done a story over it. But even with a great idea put into action, and their hopes and spirits renewed, Mags couldn’t help the nauseous pit growing in her stomach.

As they embarked up the steps, Harry looked over at Mags in concern. “You okay there? You look a little green.”

“Hmm?” She feigned ignorance, “No, I’m fine.” Harry opened the door, ushering her inside before stepping into the heated building. “Must’ve been something I ate.” “My pancakes have you feeling nauseous?” Harry exclaimed in concern.

Oops. Right, Mags had forgotten that the only thing she’d eaten today was Harry’s cooking. This was why she hated lying – she was bad at it.

“Hush, Harry,” is the route she decided to go with, “We’re in a library. We don’t wanna disturb the other patrons.” She gestured to the room, mentally groaning when she saw that the library was jam-packed with three other people, a young girl and her mother were fiddling on the computers, and an old man that was sleeping on one of the armchairs. Or, at least Mags hoped he was sleeping. One would think the library would be more popular on a Friday night.

Harry shot her another concerning look but chose to drop the matter, for now. In fear of being shushed again, he gestured to the circulation help desk, indicating that they should ask one of the library assistants where they could find the catalogued newspapers. As they approached the desk, Mags legs felt like they were heavy lead as she dragged them across the carpeted floor. She just needed an excuse to slip away for five minutes and then this upcoming crisis could be averted.

She stopped in her tracks, spinning around to face Harry. “I, um, need to go to the bathroom. It’s an emergency. Not that you asked,” She nervously chuckled. “Anyways,” she pushed Harry’s back towards the help desk, “Why don’t you ask where we can find the newspapers while I’m gone and I’ll just meet you there and – ” “Magnolia?” The voice came from behind her, just as smoky and honeyed as she remembered.

She froze in her tracks. This cannot be happening. I’m a good person she thought, I fast during Ramadan. I try to be nice to others. I’m fairly sure that I pay all my taxes. Why is this happening to me? Would it be too late for her to make a run for it? She could just tell Harry it was an emergency and then meet him back at his house once he acquired the information.

Just as she began to inch towards the exit, the voice called out again. “Magnolia, that is you! I thought it was. I’d recognize you anywhere. ” Ignoring Harry’s look of confusion, she turned around reluctantly. She looked at the other boy, his dark hair perfectly styled atop his head, not a strand out of place. His cheekbones sharp and proudly protruding, his lips slightly turned into a familiar smile. Unlike her, his brown skin didn’t seem to have a problem with dulling under florescent lights, as he was golden and glowing. One tatted arm reached out to embrace her in a hug, pulling her softly against his chest, before pulling back to get a look at her. “You look good,” he professed, looking at her intently form head to toe, “Beautiful like always.” From her peripheral, she could see that Harry certainly didn’t like that, if his body language was any indicator as he crossed his arms and shifted his stance to stand closers to Mags.

“Zayn,” she greeted, trying to modulate her voice and stifle her feelings of panic. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” “At the library?” Zayn questioned, “Where I work?”

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” She nervously answered. Just as she was going to grab Harry’s arm and steer them away from the upcoming train wreck, Harry himself piped up. “I’m sorry. Mags hasn’t introduced us. Who are you?”

Zayn looked at Harry, as if he just registered that Mags wasn’t alone. “This is Zayn,” Mags answered quickly, “He’s my –”

“I’m Magnolia’s ex-boyfriend,” Zayn interrupted, reaching over to shake Harry’s hand, muscles tightening, jaw clenched, “She and I used to date.”

“He knows what ex means,” Mags hissed.

“Oh really?” Harry responded, his face unreadable, “Funny. Mags actually hasn’t even mentioned you.” His emphasis on her preferred nickname was evident to both Zayn and Mags, because Harry was as subtle as horse. “I’m Harry.”

Mags, despite the train wreck happening before her very eyes, was relieved that Harry introduced himself. She didn’t know what title she would’ve given him. She didn’t even know what they were. They were in some weird limbo until this ghost mess was past them. What would she have said? Harry piping up saved her from the verbal onslaught that would’ve been sure to follow. Hi, yes Zayn, my ex-boyfriend who broke my heart, this is Harry, a boy that I almost slept with and really want to sleep with but haven’t yet because I was cock-blocked by a ghost. Anyways, can you point us to the non-fiction section?

“Um,” Mags spoke, breaking the palpable tension, “While we have you here Zayn, we could actually use your help with some questions.”

Ignoring Harry’s disgruntled expression and Zayn’s self-satisfied smirk, she continued on. “Aren’t you doing your senior thesis on like witchcraft or something of that nature?”

“It’s on magical realism and occult fiction,” He clarified, before giving her a sly smile, warmer and more comfortable than his smirk, looking more like the Zayn she knew. “Y’know, all that haram and Jinn stories that used to bother the hell out of ya.”

Despite not wanting to, she couldn’t help but smile in return. “Right,” she warmed at the mention of their insider, “Well, we could use your help. For your research, did you come across anything about how to perform an exorcism on a house that’s possessed by a ghost?”

Zayn, to his credit, didn’t bat an eye at her odd question. He was used to Mags’ antics. “Yeah, from what I’ve read, the best bet is to light some sage. Ask the ghosts what they want and try to get them what they need, and they’ll leave.” He paused as if he truly registered what he just asked her, and then eyed Harry suspiciously. “But I know you. You don’t believe in that kinda stuff.”

“It’s nothing,” Mags lied, wanting to end this conversation, like, five minutes ago. “Can you tell us where the newspaper archives are? Ones from like 10 years ago?”

Heading towards the corner of the library that Zayn pointed them to, Harry and Mags walked in silence. Unable to take it anymore, Mags spoke up. “So, that was Zayn. My ex-boyfriend. But you already know that.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Harry assured her. And it seemed like he truly meant that sentiment, his voice unwavering and genuine He didn’t seem the slightest bit accusatory, no hint of sarcasm lining his tone, which was so unlike what she was used to when she was dating Zayn. Not that she was dating Harry, but she and Zayn had a knack for being able to get under each other’s skin. Had the roles been reversed, Zayn wouldn’t have let that interaction go, hounding Mags for more answers to impossible questions until they’d inevitably get into another one of their infamous fights. Zayn was an English major, through and through, envious and passionate. He felt deeply as an artist and fought just as dramatically too.

It was the fact that Harry was nothing like Zayn that encouraged her to share. “No, I want to explain,” She insisted, as they carried a stack of newspapers to a table, ready to dive into their town’s obituaries. “Zayn and I, well, he and I dated for a good while. It was one of those things where, when it was good, it was really good, y’know? But when it was bad? It was awful.”

Harry encouragingly nodded, his green eyes looking to her in sincerity, letting her tell the story at her own pace. “Well,” Mags exhaled, “It was serious. One of the most serious relationships I’ve ever had. But it didn’t work out. Obviously. We were just too different. We both retreated when we were hurt and angry instead of talking things out. And it wasn’t just his fault, it was both of ours. It wasn’t anything dramatic or serious. We just broke up because we never really tried our best, never gave our best effort to fix our problems.” She recalled the months after the end of their relationship, Mags tried her best to hold it together, but it really did wound her. “The break-up still sucked though,” she admitted. She may act collected and composed, but when she does let someone into her heart, it’s different. If it wasn’t for Niall and Marisol, she wasn’t sure if she’d have gotten through it.

Harry placed his hand atop of hers, taking care to look into her eyes. “He’s the guy that broke your heart, isn’t he? The reason that you’re scared to be vulnerable with someone.”

Mags kept her gaze on the stack of newspaper, unable to meet his eyes, wordlessly nodding in affirmation.

“Well, thank you for sharing that with me,” Harry said earnestly, reaching over to put a finger under Mags chin, turning her face so they were looking at each other. “Thanks for being vulnerable with me.” Mags raised her gaze, smiling at the kindness of the boy who sat across from her, unsure how to respond.

She needn’t worry though because she didn’t have to reply. “Anyways,” he continued, “We have a ghost to get rid of. Let’s get to looking through this decade’s worth of obituaries.”

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

As they started to head back to the house, Mags was a ball of nerves, filled with anticipation. The trip to the library had been a success. Mags was able to find Bertha’s late husband, Tom’s, obituary. It simply stated that he passed due to a head contusion, with no information on how it occurred. News must’ve been slow that week because Harry then found the real treasure: an investigative article that revealed more information about Tom’s death. They discovered that Tom and Bertha had gotten into an argument, over something silly as she had to remind him multiple times to check the circuit breaker in the basement. Tom had begrudgingly gone to do so when one the wires in the breakers shocked him with a small current of electricity. The electrical shock didn’t kill him, but it did surprise him enough so that he stepped back, falling over and hitting his head on the edge of his workbench. The death was quick and painless, the article assured readers, but Mags still felt awful while reading it. Poor Tom, she thought, and poor Bertha. Even more so, it was a bit unsettling to Harry that a death had occurred in the house in which he was currently living.

As they had prepared to leave the library earlier, armed with knowledge and a secure plan to conduct their exorcism, Zayn had caught up with them, giving Mags a bottle of sage that he had lying around in his office that he acquired during his thesis research.

Now, she and Harry trekked back to the house, loaded with goodies that would hopefully guarantee an end to the paranormal activities; bottle of holy water, pewter candlesticks, and a bottle of sage, not to mention everything that they learned throughout the day. As she mentally recounted the day’s hectic and odd events, she voiced her thoughts. “Wasn’t that medium funny? The things she so-called predicted about you were so wild.” Mags laughed, brandishing her speech with air quotes.

“Heh, yeah,” Harry said, uncharacteristically without elaboration. There was a small pause, and then, “Actually, she wasn’t all wrong.” “How’s that?” Mags inquired, wondering how much longer their walk would take. She was so ready to deal with the ghost. Especially now since she knew it was Tom and he probably didn’t mean them any harm.

“I actually, uh, well you know how she said I suffered a great loss?” Harry reached over to rub the back of his neck before continuing, “Well. She wasn’t wrong about that. My uh, my dad passed away. Not too long ago really.” “Harry,” Mags said, concern and sympathy and sadness all intertwined in her voice, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“We don’t,” Harry agreed, but then he looked at her. And if Mags had to guess, the look in his eyes showed that he felt comfortable with her. Safe. “But I want to. My dad was an okay guy, not the best husband but a good father. He passed quickly – cancer, but not painlessly. It was tough for my sister and mom. Tough for me too.” He cleared his throat, sneaking a peek at Mags before looking down at his feet. “I just, I wanted you to know that about me. I like sharing things with you. You’re easy to talk to.”

Usually, Mags was quick to stick her foot in her mouth. Her special talent of saying the wrong thing reared its ugly head when it was most unwanted and in the most awkward situations. But surprisingly, that didn’t happen this time. Mags took one look at how exposed and open Harry was, how he shared his sorrow and confided in her, and she knew exactly what she wanted to say. “He must’ve been a great father,” Mags noted, “To have helped raise someone as wonderful like you.”

They shared a smile. A small one that meant that whatever this was, whatever was happening between them, it was going to be big. The shared smile revealed that there were wonders and adventures yet to come between them. But it would all have to wait until after tonight, when they would finally leave Harry with a ghost-free home.

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

When Harry unlocked the door to his house, they didn’t waste time in removing their shoes or coats and got straight to work. Harry began to burn the sage and Mags set the candle around the room, lighting the wicks and igniting flames. They worked in silence, the magnitude of what’s to come weighing heavily on their shoulders. When finished with their respective duties, they met back at the center.

Harry’s grip on the bottle of holy water tightened. “You don’t have to do this, y’know? I won’t hold it against you.” He was offering her an out, not wanting to put her in any unnecessary danger.

Mags rolled her eyes, before reaching over to grasp his free hand. “I’m not that easy to get rid of. I’m not going anywhere.”

Just then, the awful thudding and heavy footsteps could be heard from above. It was loud, the steps so heavy that it caused bits of wood shavings to fall from the ceiling. It was now or never.

“Hello?” Mags called out, her voice trembling at the unknown. “Is that you Tom? I mean Mr – “ “Bleakman,” Harry helpfully supplied.

Mags gulped, “Mr. Bleakman. If that’s you, can you give us a sign?”

Was it her imagination, or had the room suddenly gotten colder? The inside of the house seemed to be even more freezing that the harsh winds outside. It was chilling. Goosebumps began to dot her arms and an uneasy feeling settling around her.  She held her coat closer to her exposed neck, her grip tightening in Harry’s intertwined hand.

“Mr. Bleakman?” Now it was Harry giving it a go. “If you can hear me, I just want you to know. I’m Harry. Your wife, Bertha, rented this house to me. She’s a real sweet woman.” “They play Bingo together,” Mags offered.

“We did. We played a lot of Bingo together and – “ “Which isn’t a euphemism by the way!” Mags exclaimed, before mouthing an apology to Harry when he shot her an exasperated look.

“Right. Well, Mr. Bleakman. Tom. I was hoping that you could stop haunting this house. The thing with the Ouija board the other day? It wasn’t very cool of me and I won’t do it again.” The thudding didn’t stop. The cold air didn’t seem to warm. In fact, things began to worsen. Mags and Harry looked around just as the lights began to flicker, casting an ominous lighting around the room. Just as suddenly, the lights went out all together and everything was dead silent. In the dim lighting, with the candles their only source of light, Mags eyes struggled to adjust. A chill ran down her spine, causing her to tremble. She clumsily reached out for Harry, having let go of his hand earlier, and then let out an audible sigh of relief when his hand found hers instead, squeezing it once as reassurance.

The thumping sound stopped. The only sound that could be heard was their shallow breathing that seemed deafening in an otherwise silent room. They waited, breath baited, for something to happen. It couldn’t be that easy Mags thought. There’s no way.

And though she didn’t want to be, she was right. No sooner has she mentally expressed that sentiment that there was a loud smashing sound that came from the right of her, followed by a loud bang of something crashing to the ground. She screamed, backing up into Harry, who immediately pulled her behind him, trying to shield her from whatever danger that lurked. Before they could even question what caused that smashing sound, a sudden gust of cold air could be felt, causing Mags to shudder and simultaneously, and all the flames in the candles went out. They were trapped in pitch darkness.

The front door slammed open, and the pair whirled around to look at the entrance. A hooded figure could be seen, face hidden, a blunt object in his hand.

This time, both Mags and Harry screamed bloody murder.

The figure screamed back.

A voice thick with an Irish accent resounded in the room. “Why’re ya screaming?! It’s just me!”

“Niall?” Mags questioned desperately, while Harry shouted, “What’s wrong with you? You don’t just bust into someone’s home like that!” The latter’s voice sounding suspiciously scared in a falsetto.

As if this was a playwright and not reality, the lights flickered back on, almost on cue. The lights revealed that it was indeed Niall, as he pulled down the hood from his jacket and stepped into the room. The large object in his hand was just a scroll of paper, rolled up into a tight cylindrical shape.

Mags took long strides to cross the room and stand before Niall before not so lightly pounding him on the arm repeatedly. “What is the matter with you?” “Ouch!” The Irishman exclaimed, wincing and rubbing him tender arm. “I’m here because I’ve found the answer to Harry’s problem.” He was met with unimpressed stares. “Yikes, tough crowd. Look, why don’t you guys take a seat?”

Mags and Harry shared a look, and then walked over to the couch, sitting close to each other, practically on the same cushion, not wanting to be apart after what they’d just witnessed. Once settled, all eyes were on Niall, who physically claimed the center of the room.

“I have found the solution to this haunting,” Niall began. Mags noticed that he was using the same rambunctious, haughty voice he employed when he had to present a subject in class over something that he hadn’t done the reading on, but she ignored calling him out as he actually had piqued her interest. Could he truly have the answer to stop all this madness?

Harry hunched over and ran his palms across his face, and Mags instinctively reached out to rub his shoulders comfortingly. “Oooh! When’d this happen?” Niall asked excitedly, pointing at them.

Mags eyes just flashed in irritation.

“Right!” Niall exclaimed, as if he suddenly remembered he was in the middle of something important. “The solution.”

He began to pace the length of the living room rug, his hands tied behind his back, the rain droplets from his jacket dripping onto the floor. “I’ve been thinking long and hard about everything that Harry had said about this house. All the things that spooked him. I didn’t know what to make of it, so I did some digging of my own.”

He bent over and unfolded the roll of paper, and Mags and Harry reached out to hold opposite edges to keep it straightened.

“Erm, what exactly are we looking at here?” Harry questioned, his head cocked to the side trying to make sense of the white lines and measurements adorning the navy-blue page.

“I went to the town hall and asked for a copy of this house’s floorplan. You mentioned it was old, Harry, something in Bertha’s family for a while so I figured they would have it. If you look closely, right about here,” he pointed to a section on the paper of what Mags deduced was the living room that they were currently in, “that’s the room we are in right now. And if you follow the measurements of the floorboards, you’ll see that they don’t quite align.”

From Harry’s squinted eyes, it was clear he hadn’t caught on yet. But Mags had. The paper showed the square footage, measurements, and scales; Numbers! She was back in familiar territory! She excitedly traced the area that Niall pointed out. “Oh my gosh,” she whispered, “This bitch is built crooked.”

“What?” Harry exclaimed, exasperated at being out of the loop. “What is this even showing me?” Niall seemed gleeful at Mag’s realization, validating his findings. “The house, while structurally sound, was built crooked. The plot of land it’s on is uneven. The left dipping lower than the right. Which is why sometimes,” Niall threw his arm out to point at the right wall, splattering Mags and Harry’s faces with more water droplets that flew off his sleeve, “the painting from that wall falls off periodically.” They all looked to where he pointed. The sound Mags and Harry had heard moments ago, the loud banging in the darkness, had been a picture frame that fell off the wall. That’s all it was. Mags felt just the tiniest bit of air fill back into her lungs in relief.

“B-but,” Harry nodded his head side to side in apparent puzzlement, “But how does that explain the lights? We – “He nodded his head at Mags, “We found out that Tom, Bertha’s husband, had died while messing with the breaker in the basement. The flickering lights has to be his ghost.” Niall only patted Harry’s head in response. “Oh, you silly lad! If only that were true. In actuality, Bertha forgot to tell you that in the winter months, the house needs a scheduled appointment with the town’s electrician. The house is old, the wiring is faulty, and it needs a nice tweak now and then in the cold weather.”

Niall stood up once again with a flourish, one finger raised and poised in the air, “And how would I know that? Fret not Harry,” to which Harry deeply exhaled in frustration. “I looked up Bertha, found her granddaughter on Instagram. She’s a fittie by the way, has a boyfriend though. Real shame.” A swift kick to his shins from Mags got him to stop his harmless flirting and get back on track. “Right, so I reached out to her. She relayed that information to me. She also pointed out something else that she thought we’d ought to know.”

He treads to the other side of the room, to the wall that has four large windowpanes covered by thick, velvet drapes. Grabbing the curtain from one corner, he peels it back, loudly exclaiming “Ta-daa!”, his hands outstretched as if he was presenting something fascinating to them, a magician in front of an audience.

Eyes blinked back at him. “There’s nothing even there!” Harry exasperatedly noted.

“What?” Niall did a double take, and then chuckled to himself. “Oops, wrong window.” He repeated his same dramatic motions, this time uncovering a window with a large, crack on it. On the corner, was a missing shard of glass. “Bertha had been meaning to get this fixed. The neighbor’s kid accidentally threw a baseball through the window. She got really forgetful towards the end, according to her granddaughter, which is why she whisked her away.”

Mags nodded excitedly, “That’s what’s been causing the drafts.” She turned to Harry, eyes glowing with relief, “That’s why it always so damn cold in here. Your thermostat can’t compete with that.”

“Hopefully the flickering lights will offset how high your electivity bill is going to be,” Niall joked.

Harry seemed unconvinced. “What about that smell then, huh? It smells something dreadful in the kitchen and I’ve cleaned the place spic and span.”

Mags turned to Niall in wonder, looking at him in a whole new light, as if he was an all knowing being that held all the answers.

“Follow me,” Niall said, leading the trio into the kitchen while continuing his monologue. “I called up our dear friend Louis. Hard guy to keep track of, that lad, with the time zones and all. I told him about the smell, and wouldn’t you know it? Our friend remembered the fact that when he was here, he had drunkenly tried to make himself scrambled eggs for breakfast when you,” he pointed accusingly at Harry, “were passed out on the couch. What he actually did was drop an egg on the ground. In his drunken state, he simply just kicked the egg yolk under the fridge, like ice, and promised to clean it later.”

Niall leaned against the fridge, arms crossed dramatically. “As we know, no follow-through that one. He forgot to clean his mess. So that smell you smelt? The scent of rotten eggs? It actually was a rotten egg. Disgusting but true.”

“I –” Harry couldn’t believe it. Gently pushing Niall away from the fridge, he knelt down on one knee, sinking onto the cool tile. Sliding his phone out of his front pocket, he turned on his flashlight app and shined in under the fridge. Niall and Mags also leaned in to get a closer look. Audible gasps could be heard from all three of them. There, under the dusty and sticky tile bottom of the fridge, wedged between a dust ball and an expired coupon, was a broken, rotten egg.

Mags pinched her nose, unable to take the scent anymore. “Niall, you’re an absolute genius,” she complimented nasally.

Before Niall could bask in his glory for long, Harry interrupted once again. “You’ve explained the lights. The painting falling off. The cold. The smell. But,” his eyes bleary and red, his arms flailing in frustration “what about the sounds coming from the ceiling? The footsteps?”

He turned around and looked at Mags frantically for support. “Mags heard it too! The night that she stayed over and we – um, she just heard it too!” while Mags nodded feverishly in the background.

Niall looked away, breaking eye contact. “That’s the only part I can’t explain,” the blonde confessed, scratching his scalp. “But the blueprints show this house has an attic. Let’s all go search up there together.”

Emboldened by Niall’s other explanations, everyone geared up for their excursion, which really meant that everyone had their phones in hand, flashlights shining. Once again, Niall lead the way, stopping in the middle of the hallway. It was no wonder Harry had never noticed it before. There, on the ceiling, was a subtle outline of an attic door and a very small chain dangling. It was so high up that Niall and Harry took turns hopping and trying to reach the latch, while Mags didn’t even try, watching the boys struggle because she know her attempts would be futile. Eventually Harry was able to grab ahold of the chain and pull the attic door open, as the wooden steps fell along with it. Harry looked back at Mags, feeling a surge of affection for this girl that was willing to risk everything for him, and then looked at Niall, the friend who jumped through hoops to help a friend. Inspired by the love and support around him, Harry took the lead, climbing up the steps as Niall and Mags respectively followed.

“Please don’t be a creepy man that’s been hoarding and hiding in Harry’s attic for shelter,” Mags whispered, climbing the last steps “Because I WILL die of shock, and that’s a promise.”

Niall and Harry helped her up, and she stood upright. They each flashed their lights at different corners of the attic, trying to find something amiss among the dusty boxes of forgotten belongings and storage.

“Wait,” Harry whispered, pointing in the opposite corner. “Look over there. Something’s glowing.”

And sure enough, Mags saw it too. Something was glowing and moving. Two little round balls of light.

“I think,” Harry began, taking a step closer to the source when all Mags wanted to do was drag him back to safety, “Oh wow, it is.” “Is what?” Niall exclaimed, unable to handle the suspense.

“It’s a family of possums!” Harry cried in relief, “It’s just a mama possum and her babies. It’s not a ghost!”

“Awww,” Niall cooed.

The release that everyone felt was almost palpable, the relief tangible. There was no ghost after all! No otherworldly being! All of this was caused by a forgetful old woman, a drunk friend, and a family of critters.

Mags could almost cry tears of joy. Science was valid. Her whole wasn’t flipped upside down. Numbers were important, her beliefs restored. Rationale could explain everything unusual that had occurred within the confines of this house. Without being too dramatic, she could firmly declare that once again, her life had meaning.

She took a few minutes to herself to truly appreciate that there was no haunting before finally speaking up. “I hate to ruin the moment,” Mags said as Harry and Niall admired the critters, “but mama possums are very territorial and will attack if she feels threatened.” When neither Harry nor Niall made any intentions to move, she added, “And possums are at high risk to carry strains of rabies.”

“And that’s our cue!” Harry quipped, as Niall vehemently added, “Yup!”

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

Day 7: October 31st, Halloween!!!

Mags beamed with content, relaxing every muscle in her body as she laid on the bookshop’s couch, her head resting on Harry’s warm thigh, his face partially obscured by a book, reading snippets from the murder-mystery novel she had started but never got to finish given how hectic the past few days had been. His other free hand was draped across her shoulder and chest, and Mags divided her attention, taking turns to hold his hand and running her fingers across his forearm, despite Harry’s constant claim that it tickled.

It was Halloween, the day that she had first anticipated because she loved all things horror and it was her favorite holiday, and then the day that she had started to dread when she believed that Harry’s house was being haunted by a ghost. Now, she was back to loving her favorite holiday again, the world was ruled by science, and everything felt right. And it truly did. Ever since last night, when Niall was able to demystify all of the strange occurrences, Mags felt lighter than she had ever before. She let out an exhale as she relaxed into her position, nuzzling closer to Harry as his low voice rumbled, reading aloud to her, and embraced the pleasant sound.

She was so comfortable, so relaxed, she felt could fall asleep right here and now. A little nap was well-deserved at this point, she decided as she closed her eyes contently, considering the hell she’d been through this past week.

“Do not fall asleep,” a voice demanded.

She inhaled deeply in frustration, peeling one eye open to see Liam passing by. He eyed her, irritated, though Mags knew he wasn’t truly annoyed. “You’re still on the clock, y’know?” Liam said, “Just checking in to make sure you’re all set to close up.” He paused to nod at Harry in greeting, because apparently it was really a small world and Mags had found out that Liam and Harry actually knew each from freshman year history class.

Mags sat up, running her fingers through her hair in a futile attempt to tame it. “I don’t understand why you always ask me that when you never offer to actually help close up.”

Liam laughed in response. “I’m nothing if not consistent.” He reached over to give Harry one of those boy handshakes that would always elude Mags. Why couldn’t boys just say goodbye normally? “Anyways, I’ll see you at Harry’s place tonight. I’ve got a wicked costume planned,” he concluded as a farewell.

It wasn’t hard for Niall to convince Harry that he should host a Halloween party at his house, to celebrate the fact that he wasn’t haunted, but also because it was a great excuse to bring everyone together and get drunk. Mags, always eager to wear costumes, agreed with his sentiments and thus, they were hosting a last-minute Halloween party with no invitations spared.

Mags twisted her body to face Harry, his eyes already on her. “I probably should get up and start to close up.” She straightens herself up, ready to check inventory and cash out the register. “Before another student comes rushing in last minute again. Or God forbid, an English major,” she jokes.

“Um,” Harry treaded cautiously, “You know I’m an English major, right?” “You’re a what?” Mags eyes widen in shock. “Nope. No way.” She shakes her head vigorously. “Absolutely not.”

Harry smirks in amusement. “Unfortunately, yes. Sorry to break it to you, hon.”

Mags froze, flabbergasted. She guessed she really did have a type. Karma really was a bitch. “I’m so glad you decided to reveal your major after the fact,” she joked, “Or else it might’ve been a deal breaker.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed, changing the subject, “Don’t forget! I’ll need to rush home and put on my costume before meeting you at the house.” “Ooh,” Harry resounded in excitement, “Can you pretty please bring Pumpkin with you? I haven’t seen her all day.” She rolled her eyes in response. “I’m beginning to think you’re only dating me for my cat,” she joked amicably.

And that is what they were doing. Dating. As soon as all the ghost nonsense was put to rest, she and Harry finally had the opportunity to address everything that happened between them. Though their coming together was unconventional, the feelings were real and strong, and they decided to give their relationship a try. Mags felt good about it. They way Harry made her feel made her think they were in it for the long haul and she was excited about their future holds.

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

Adjusting her halo that fell askew when she threw her head back to take a shot, Mags looked around the kitchen in happiness, the kind that fills your heart when you’re in a party, surrounded by close friends and loved ones, loud music thumping from a distance and filled with good vibes. Alcohol definitely plays a part too.

Suddenly, two tattooed arms reached out to envelop her, careful to avoid smushing her wings. She leaned her weight against Harry’s chest, allowing him to support her, as she turned her face slightly towards him. He lowered his head to her ears, his breath tickling her skin and making her blood rush. “You look so good,” Harry murmured, “I’ve got half a mind to call the cops on my own party so they can kick everyone out. Want you all to myself.”

Despite rolling her eyes, Mags couldn’t help the pleased smile that snaked across her face. “Easy there, I’m spending the night anyway.” She turned around so that her wings were no longer a barrier between them, wrapping her arms around Harry from the front, her face against his chest, as he placed his head affectionally atop hers, the wisps on her Halo tickling his cheeks.

Mags had chosen an angel as her last-minute Halloween costume, mainly because it was an easy outfit, but also because the white contrasted well with her golden-brown skin and this particular outfit did wonders for her boobs. A fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Harry, if the look he gave her when she first made her entrance was any indication. On the other hand, Harry had chosen to dress as a devil. Or at least, a very lackluster devil. He had a red sweater on earlier, but the warmth from the house crowded with bodies caused him to abandon that hours ago, and he was left with a white t-shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of devil horns hastily placed atop his mass of curly hair. It was mysterious the way the world worked. Just a week ago, she imagined that on Halloween she would be at home, watching the Scream movie series with Niall, Marisol, and Pumpkin, with a bag of Halloween candy to pass out to trick or treaters. And now, she was celebrating her favorite holiday with her friends and her boyfriend with a fun party.

As the Monster Mash played deafeningly in the background, and they were jostled from people entering and exiting the kitchen to get punch, they swayed to their own silent music, content to be lost in their world for just a moment.

A moment that was interrupted by Niall. “Seriously Harry? You were supposed to grab Mags so we could play charades!” To which Harry muttered an insincere apology. Niall turned to Mags, “It’s a Halloween version of charades. I know how competitive you get. You and Harry can be on the same team. It’ll be a true test of your love!” He declared, his speech slow and slurred.

Mags was game. “Oh, we are so gonna win!” She declared, already leaning into her competitive streak.

“Great!” Niall declared enthusiastically, his arms sloppily flailing in excitement. Unfortunately for him, and for Harry, Niall had forgotten about the cup he was holding and just emptied its entire content onto Harry. His white shirt was completely stained with red punch.

Niall avoided Harry’s harsh glare as Mags slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. “Oops! I’ll just let ya take care of that before our game,” he announced, adjusting his fake leprechaun beard before hurriedly making his exit.

“Great,” Harry groaned, dabbing his shirt with a paper towel in vain, “I have to go change my shirt.” Unexpectedly, Mags was hit with a sudden realization. “Oh my gosh!” She exclaimed in a tone of wonder. “You’re completely covered in red liquid.”

It took Harry a moment, but then his eyes flashed with recognition. “That crazy old psychic was right!”

Mags laughed at the absurdity of it all. “I wonder,” she began, rubbing her chin thoughtfully, “If she was right about two things so far, I’m starting to suspect that she was right to warn me. I’ll bet you are a widower! How do I know I’m not dating a married man?” She teased.

Harry just looked at her fondly in response, at the crazy girl that he called his girlfriend.

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

Buzz! The electronic buzzer resounded, indicating that Mags and Harry’s turn was over. She threw her arm up in frustration. “Seriously Harry? The word was Leatherface! It’s the killer in Texas Chainsaw Massacre!” “How was I supposed to get that?” He howled with laughter.

“I was pointing at Zayn’s leather jacket!” She explained, pointing at the boy dressed as a Greaser, “And I was miming a chainsaw!”

“A chainsaw?” Harry questioned, as Niall guffawed, “I thought you were chopping vegetables!”

Mags sat back next to Harry, arms crossed, and lips pouted in pretending to sulk. “It’s okay baby,” he comforted her, “We’ll get them next round.”

“You promise?” She teased.

His pinky reached out to capture hers. “Pinky promise.”

Mags had chosen a seat next to Marisol and Niall, her main competition in this game. She had squeezed Liam’s shoulder as she passed to get to her seat and shot Zayn a smile in greeting, noticing other familiar faces in the room. It seems that the people that she was the closest with had chosen to join the game.

Niall observed Mags and Harry tangled within one another, as she sat close to Harry, her back to his chest, his arm slung around her shoulders as they waited for their next turn. “You guys are so cute. We should go on a double-date!” He exclaimed, the alcohol causing his enthusiasm to increase ten-fold, “Marisol,” he called, turning to his girlfriend, “Let’s all get brunch tomorrow morning!” Marisol shared a knowing look with Mags, to say Gosh my boyfriend is so cute but such an adorable handful when he’s drunk. “Sweetie,” she began understandingly, as if she was speaking to a toddler, “Y’know I have church in the morning. The church on 3rd street holds their sermons really early on Sunday mornings.”

“Oh, the one with Pastor Mike?” Mags questioned, “He’s super nice!” Marisol looked over at her roommate in concern. “Why do you know that?” She questioned in exasperated confusion, the synthetic hair from her blue Coraline wig slipping over her eyes as she narrowed them at Harry suspiciously, who was busy playing with the ends of Mags hair, the long strands skirting against the small of her back. Marisol lowering her voice in a drunken whisper that wasn’t actually that quiet, “Is he trying to convert you?”

Harry looked offended at the accusation and Mags bubbled over in laughter, unable to explain to Marisol. She didn’t even know what’d she say. Yes, I know Pastor Mike is really kind because he helped Harry and I with an exorcism.

As Marisol and Niall got distracted because it was their turn, Mags turned to admire the mantle above the fireplace. When rooting through the basement for Halloween decorations, she and Harry had found a beautiful picture of Bertha and Tom. They felt it was appropriate to have it up, as a reminder of the love that once filled this house, instead of the horror they previously feared. “I guess I’ll have to go out and buy another frame,” Harry commented, following Mags eyes to see what got her attention. “Why’s that?” Mags asked curiously.

“For a picture of us, of course!” Mags shoved his arm playfully. “Harry, we’ve literally been officially dating for one day, why are you like this?” In turn, he dropped all pretenses of joking, carefully looking into her eyes. “When you know, you know,” he explained, his words firm and laced with adoration. He reached out to tuck a strand of her dark hair behind her ears, his actions tender and careful, his gaze unwavering. This time, Mags didn’t have to guess what expression was on his face, wasn’t confused about the look in his eye. As he ducked forward, dipping down to touch his nose against hers, she recognizes the emotion that all the signs point to: love.

Just as Harry’s lips are about to make contact with hers, Liam speaks up boisterously, gathering the attention of everyone in the room. “After this,” he boldly proclaims, his once carefully applied zombie makeup now smudged and his speech imprecise due to the effects of the punch, “we should all get into the true Halloween spirit by playing the ultimate spooky game.”

His proclamation is meet with cheerful jeers of encouragement and questions about what the game was.

“Great!” He all but shouts in enthusiasm, “I’ll just go and find us a Ouijia board.”

Time stood still. Everything seemed to move in slow-motion.

Completely in sync, their motions fluid and graceful, contradicting the amount of alcohol consumed between the three of them, Niall, Harry, and Mags jumped up from the couch in harmony, bellowing a resounding chorus of “NO!”

The End. (or isss iiiiiit?)

(Just kidding, it is.)

#1dff #1dff challenge #harry styles #one direction #1d fic #one direction fic #harry style fic #one direction au #zayn mailk #louis tomilson #niall horan #liam payne #1d au #harry styles au #Louis tomlinson #spooky

[alaina-achilles]

ii

challenge one

((sorry for the kinda short fic haha, I’m getting crazy busy with assignment deadlines smh. anyways thanks for the nice rp anna @arin-schreave. and love our rps as usual ana!! @itssara-oc @itzelbm-oc ))

The etiquette lesson was… uneventful. And I certainly was not ready to be thrown on so much information so early in the morning. Especially with an empty stomach. Luckily I’ve got that covered and ate a packet of oreos in my room before going out. And I’m also lucky I know most of the basics thanks to the gatherings my sisters and I are often forced to attend. My maids were really nice and they did my hair nicely and I opted for a simple and formal dress for the interview.

The interview.

I sigh as I think about it. To be honest, I’m quite… nervous. I've had many interviews in my life before and my mom has certainly prepared me well for each and every one of them. It’s not the cameras that worry me - I’ve had a few interviews with them before on my book and career… It’s the prince. I’m so used to knowing the interviewee well (by doing my research, of course) that I often know just what to say to please them and make them like me. But I know none of that about the prince.

I sigh and bite my lip and turn around to walk to the food when I see the girl I was hoping to see for the entire morning.

“Hey!” I say as a way of greeting. My friend looks up, sees me and immediately smiles.

“Achi!” I smile at the sound of my new nickname. Sara quickly pulls me into a hug. “that quick etiquette class was something…” she lowers her voice. “I'm sure I wasn't the only one who can feel the tense atmosphere.”

“I know what you mean... I’m glad I already know the basics... how are we supposed to learn all of that in one go” I agree with her, shaking my head as I feel sorry for those who have never learnt any of that before. We talk more about the class and decide to start piling food onto my plate. I hope nobody heard my stomach growl.

“You know I'm so tempted to ask to switch seats but I know it probably won't be the best idea.” Sara says as we groan about how far each other are.

I giggle at the thought of Sara asking another girl to switch seats. “yeah, i guess it’ll be a good chance for us to meet new people…” I frown as I stress about how I haven’t actually met anyone else yet. “Have you met any other girls yet?”

Sara chuckles. “I guess you can say that.” She cocks her head to the side and sighs “I've said a few words to some of them but I'm not sure anyone clicked with me like you. How about you?”

I smile at her words. “yeahh I havent really too…” I say with a shake of my head as I think of how I spent the whole night talking to my sisters instead of socializing. I turn to the drink selection and widen my eyes in awe. “I never knew there are SO many types of milk!”

“Ah milk something I wish I could drink but I'm lactose in tolerant” Sara replies with a giggle. “Anyway look at all the food. I'm just hoping to enjoy my time here!” She smiles, but for some reason, it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I don't feel like I'll last one. First of all the prince isn't in my opinion really aware that this is a selection, he has 35 girls hoping to ask for his hand in marriage. Second of all, as someone who was once thinking of marrying the so called love of my life I know he's not completely over his ex, and third there is going to be a lot of drama.”

I cock my head to the side as I think about her words, not expecting that. “Yeah I know what you mean... The prince doesn't seem happy at all.” I sigh. “I honestly don't know what to do with the interview later... hopefully he’ll find someone he can love and be happy about”

She shrugs in response. “I don't know how I'll introduce myself. I could smile and lie or tell him what I really think.” She bites her lip. “I really do hope he finds someone among these girls to make him happy. Or at least someone who would even remotely fall in love with him despite possibly being a rebound. Anyway, do you know who's gonna be at your table? Anyone you wanna be friends with?”

I nod at her words. “That’s true... I think I’d give him one chance, the interview, to see who he really is…” I say with a smile. Sometimes I forget that this selection goes both ways too. I’m not the only one who has to be liked by the prince. “I’m not sure but I think Itzel’s on my table... I haven't met her yet but she was sitting near me during the etiquette class so yeah. You?”

“I wish I could but I myself am in a similar situation as him. And I feel awful I took a place of someone who would have tried harder. Or at least wanted this. Anyways, I'll be cheering for you!!” She says with a smile. “What kind of vibes does she give? She seems cold and intimidating to me. Jen and Andromeda, and a couple more. They seems nice. I just hope I'll be able to make small talk.”

I thank her with a smile. “And I hope you also find the one you love and loves you back... “ I pause as I think about her question. “Itzel... I don’t know, she seems like a bit cool and we didn't say much just now. Hopefully some good food will cheer her up!”

We continue chatting about Itzel and other stuff as we continue to fill our plate. We finally decide to finish our conversation to go and enjoy our food after a short while. I tell her good luck with finding new friends.

She nods and gives me thumbs up. “I will try my best, Achi.” For some reason, I feel like she’s acting a bit off, but I brush it off as nerves from the interview. But as we walk away, I turn back around and mouth “thanks bun” to which she smiles in response. I sigh and look at my plate of food happily as I walk back to my table.

“Hi, Itzel, right?” I say to the girl near me.

She smiles politely, nodding in acknowledgement. “Hello and you are correct, I am Itzel.” She hums in thought as she looks at me. “I am trying hard to remember names and faces, I am bad at this so I am sorry for not quite knowing. I believe your name starts with an A, right?”

I brighten up at her guess. “Yup!! I’m Alaina!” I look at my plate. “How’s the food?” Food is always a good topic to start off.

She chuckles. “Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Alaina. It is delicious. There's quite a few things that are new to me so I'm very happy right now.. You'll enjoy the food very much. Are you excited to meet the Prince after this?”

I smile at her reply and take a bite of my food and widen my eyes. “this IS good!!” I laugh. “ I am! And also quite nervous”

We continue to talk more and I learn that Itzel is into neuroscience.

“Wow neurology and neuroscience... I did a few psychology courses in uni and I struggled so badly with the neuro stuff.” I tell her truthfully with a laugh. “You are one brave girl for wanting to do that.”

Itzel turns out to be super nice as we get to know each other. She also helped calm my nerves as we finished our lovely breakfast. I make a mental note to tell Sara about it.

“Anyway, let your other friend know I'm not THAT bad. I could see her shake every time she looked at me.” Itzel tells me as we stand up, seeming to have read my mind.  

“I definitely will!! And good luck on your interview with the prince!” I tell her with a laugh. She smiles and wishes the same to me and soon we are ushered into a waiting room. I look around to find Sara, but can’t see her as I scan the room a few times. I shake my head, she’s probably touching up in the bathroom. I sigh and before I can even choose a new girl to talk to, I’m called into the room.

I take a deep breath and hold my head high like Mom always tells us to as I step into the room filled with cameras. I smile at the cameras and try to keep my walking natural and elegant.

You can do this.

And if all goes wrong, blame your sister. She caused all of this anyways.

I hide my smile at the silly thought and turn my focus to the gorgeous guy that is the prince. While I may not know the prince well, one thing I know for sure. He is definitely good-looking. Despite the lack of a er genuine smile. He must not have been taught acting in his education. I think with a giggle as I keep my smile intact. I don’t miss him looking at my name tag. And I guess, he also didn’t take the time to learn our names.

“Good morning, Lady Alaina, please have a seat.” He says formally, motioning to the sofa.

“Good morning, your highness.” I say with a smile before pausing in slight anxiety. Do I curtsy or…? I decide to quickly bob into one before sitting down hastily. I can instantly hear my mom’s voice in my head.

Be professional, Alaina. Stop with the fidgeting nonsense. You’re a lady, Alaina. And don’t ever drop that smile. You know that’s one of your best physical traits.

Prince Arin sits down next to me gracefully and angles his body towards me. “How are you doing this morning?”

A simple and straight-forward question.

I place my hand on my lap as my mom has taught me to since I was a little kid. “I’m good. I met some of the other girls and that was quite interesting-” I answer. “And also what you’ve been doing the whole morning.” I add with a laugh. “How’s yours?”

He nods at me. “It’s going well, thank you. Did you sleep well?” I vaguely remember some random guy saying their morning had been bad but now that they’ve met me, theirs is perfect. I almost laugh at the memory.

Focus, Alaina.

“I didn't sleep for very long as I was busy talking to my sisters.” I tell him truthfully as I smile fondly at the thought of my sisters. “But the sleep is good, the bed is really comfy!”

He nods. “I’m glad you were able to speak with them. Big changes can be difficult.” His eyes go to the cameras then back to me. I wonder what is he thinking. Does he wish for them to be gone like I do? I wonder if he is different when away from the cameras. I catch myself almost frowning at the thought but quickly smooths my face back to the perfect smile. “Which province are you from?”

“Atlin.” Then I decide to try to make him smile. My friends laugh a lot at this alliteration. “Alaina Achilles of Atlin.”

He does not smile. “And what do you do in Atlin?” I almost frown again as I realize how factual his questions are. All of them should be written in my profile or something…

Maybe it’s all just for the cameras.

“I just got my degree and was in the process of finding a job. I ended up deciding to give writer another try.”

He nods again. “What kind of writing do you do?”

“Fiction…” I look a bit embarrassed as I think about my published book that I’m not very proud of. It was definitely not my best work. I sigh and lower my voice so that only he can hear. “Okay fine, y’all prolly have had people stalked us thoroughly so no point in hiding this... “ I say then louder “I wrote and published a book a few years ago.”

He does not just nod at this! “Oh.” He pauses as his head bobs. “What kind of book? I didn’t read your files so I’m not up to speed on your accomplishments.”

Guess the questions aren’t just for the cameras then.

I almost scoff at his choice of words. “Accomplishments” make this really sound like a job interview. Perhaps it is, in a way. So instead I act surprised and look down as I realize I have to tell him about my book in front of cameras. Not like the media doesn’t know about this already. “it’s a um teen romance…”

“I haven’t read any books from that genre but I’m sure it must be wonderful. Being published is an accomplishment.”

Accomplishment.

“It’s not... it’s a cheesy book written by a sixteen year old…” I peeks at him through my eyelashes. “I’m sure you’re gonna laugh if u ever came across it.”

And for the first time, he actually shakes his head instead of nodding it. “I tend to stick to non fiction so I think you’re safe.” He finishes with a weird expression that looks suspiciously like a ghost of a smile. I soften as I realize how much this is bugging him as it’s bugging me and decide to laugh it off to ease the tension.

“Well it’s actually called “the bad boy ruined my project” so I’m not really worried. Do you like reading?”

“I do, if I can find the time. Your book sounds like something my sister would enjoy.” He looks a teeny bit more relaxed as we talk about something less er formal.

I nod. “Well, then I’ll recommend it to her when I see her. Any favorite genres?”

“I’ll read mostly anything.” I almost roll my eyes at his answer that tells me nothing about him. He glances over at his watch then looks back to me. “Thank you for speaking with me this morning, Lady Alaina, it’s been a pleasure.” He says as he stands up.  “I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay.”

I instantly nod and stand up as well, relieved that this is finally over. “Thank you for your time, your highness. The pleasure’s mine.” I tell him with a smile as I awkwardly bob another curtsy. “You too.” I say as he just looks at me without any expression at all. I hold back a sigh and smile at the cameras again and give them a little wave as I walk back out of the room.

I take a deep breath the moment I step out of my room. I really need to talk to someone. That interview was… nothing that I ever had before. I think about going back into the waiting room, but I really am not in the mood of making small talk with other girls. So I decide to go back into my room. Since I’m one of the first few girls to have finished the interview, the halls should be nice and quiet.

As I walk up the stairs to my room, I hear a bit of hushing and then a closing of a door followed by the sound of the door locking. I ignore the sound as I walk past the first two rooms to my room. As I walk past Sara’s room. I pause. There seems to be someone else in the room with her… But I know for sure, she isn’t due to have her interview until later…

I shake my head and decide she has probably met a new friend. Despite myself, I can’t help but feel a bit sad. Even Sara’s making new friends, probably someone she enjoys the company of over me since I haven’t been to her room before. What am I doing here? I ask myself as I walk into my own room and unzip my dress.

Not bothering to pull my dress off, I reach for my phone and call my sisters.

#challenge #selection oc #alaina #sara #itzel #arin

[bluetortoist]

Questionnaire 1

What is their name, gender, and age?

Punkie, and she is a 22-24 yr old female mixed tabby. (Her specific breeds are unknown)

What are three adjectives to describe them?

Shy, Sweet, Lazy

Do they have a human home or are they a stray? If they have a human home, what is their home life like? If they are a stray, what is life like on the streets?

She has a human home, but no one really pays attention to her or realize she's there most of the time.

What is their ‘role’ within the tribe, or what are they known for? (Ex: Tugger is the curious cat/rockstar, Gus is the theatre cat, Mistoffelees is the magician, Munkustrap is the Jellicle Protector, Jelly is seen as a caretaker, etc)

She doesn't have a role. She considers herself, more or less, a bystander or a wallflower.

Who are their best friends? You can include characters from the show or tag other people’s OC’s. How popular are they?

She is a shy one and hasn't introduced herself to most yet. But she is close to Bandit, Cosmo, and Tim. Atticus, though she has only ever talked to him formerly, she considers him a nice Tom.

What is their favorite food? Do they prefer human food or something they’ve hunted?

Meat meat meat. Cooked, raw, She loves meat of any kind. If not meat, She's very fond of fish too.

Do they have any accessories? Scars? Why or why not?

She mostly wears shorts, tank tops and black thigh highs. She has a collar, but its too itchy and doesnt like wearing it.

What style of dance do they work best in?

She doesn't have a preference. She likes the look and feel of all dancing, but doesn't have a lot of confidence in her abilities.

Do they have any sort of magic? Do they fear magic?

She has no magic. She's a bit spooked at some magic, but she does like most of it.

Any fears?

Quite a lot. She has sensitive nerves. She can get a bit nervous around dogs or even sometimes rats.

Do they believe in love? If so, what is their “type” and how do they act when they are in love? If not, then why?

She believes in it and hopes that she'll find it sometime in her life. She has more than enough crushes on a lot of different cats and is always a mess when near them. Shell jump at the chance if anyone shows/ confesses attraction to her. But if she's in love, she won't notice that she's finding herself spending more time with them and opening herself up more.

Do they personally know anyone who has gone up to the Heaviside layer? Do they believe in the Heaviside layer?

She has heard bits and pieces of the Heaviside Layer. But she doesn't know anyone personally.

Any passions or hobbies? (Ex: Dance, hunting, etc)

She likes singing when she's alone. She's actually really good at sewing and likes making clothes and stuffed toys and what not. Shell sometimes play with the kittens in the junkyard.

If a song was sung about them at the Jellicle Ball, what would it be about?

Probably about how much of a poor, hopeless cause she is. Some feel sorry for her, some try to make her feel better, and some would tease her and sing about how high strung she is about everything.

What are their thoughts on some of the main characters in the show? (Ex: Tugger, Munk, Jenny, you get to choose!)

She has a crush on nearly half of them. But really, she has so little a presence, some of the MC's don't know she's even there half the time.

Do they have any secrets they are hiding?

She's pretty tight lipped and doesnt mention it often, but she kinda keeps her past homes a secret because she doesn't like to think about it.

Questionnaire 2

What are they like on the outside?

She's shy and socially awkward from how sheltered she was and how long she had went without socializing with other animals.

How do others perceive them?

A lot mostly see her has this timid, skittish; someone afraid of their own shadow. Might even think she's a bit troublesome with how little confidence she has in herself or how she doesnt assert herself. Basically a doormat.

What are they actually like on the inside? Are they similar to how they are on the outside, or totally different?

She's still shy and awkward, but she is also very sweet and kind towards other people. As much as she worries about the constant idea of people taking advantage of her, she doesn't want to change that part of her mentality. Shes a good listener and would offer a hand or anything shed be capable of. She loves children and is a little better talking with them.

How many cats truly know who they are on the inside? Does your character often show who they truly are?

She tries to, she really does. She knows how much trouble she puts herself through with how she is now and is trying to be more assertive and talk more. Not a whole lot know. Just her close friends really know her real nature. She can open up more when it comes to kittens because she thinks they are easier to talk to.

What makes your character appealing to other cats? What reason do others have to like them?

She is kind and patient to smaller kittens and animals and has a very quiet and calm demeanor. In a way thats what makes her approachable. Some cats like her sewing/knitting skills and would ask stuff from her and that makes her feel good about herself.

What flaws does your character have? Do they give anyone any reason to dislike them?

She is afraid of all sorts of things and that can get sort of irritating to some. Her social inaptability is also a problem for her and some people don't have that sort of patience and she knows that. Her biggest problem though is her inability to fend for herself with how prone to teasing she can be.

Can they fight?

No she can't.

Do they often get into fights? What do they get into fights over?

She tries desperately not to. She's not strong and doesn't know how to fight at all. She'll mostly cower or try to talk out of it.

Who are their parents? Are they alive? Do we know what they are like personality wise? Does your character have any sort of contact with them?

She knows she has a mother, but hasn't even met her and only vaguely remembers what she looked like. She figures she may or may not have rejected her, but tries not to think that. She doesn't know if she is still alive or not still. She might be able to find her if she looked hard enough.

Do they have any siblings or other relatives?

She does. about five older siblings, but they more or less considered her a stranger rather than a sibling, likewise her. She was considered a runt and had to be taken care of by her first human owner.

(If they have a home) How did they end up in their current home? (If they’re a stray) How did they end up on the streets?

She went through a pretty fair amount of adoptions at a very young age. She is now on the streets because of how little her current "owners" cared for her and made them let her out for whatever reason they thought at the time. They still haven't wondered about her whereabouts.

What was their childhood like?

Her first home mostly consisted of her moms' owner taking care of her needs before she was given to another home. Her second family couldn't keep her long with how their older cat would hiss and scratch at her. Her third and current family didn't really pay her any attention other than feeding her whenever she started crying. She was very lonely in this home and would just laze around and paw at the door to be let out.

What was the worst experience they ever had to go through, in their opinion?

A couple of experiences, but one that stayed in her mind was the older cat from her old home. She was a real bully and really affected her self esteem.

Do they potentially have a crush or a mate? Have they ever been in love?

Nothing too serious at the moment. She has a couple of crushes and has a friends with benefits thing going on with Bandit, Tim and Cosmo. She has yet to find anyone she thinks she'd want to spend her life with.

Who do they look up to?

Confident, and bold Queens like Bandit or Bomba. She wants to be as confident and beautiful as them.

Greatest achievement?

Any time when she speaks up or stands up for herself or someone.

Do they have any pet peeves?

She doesn't like when people crink their necks, the image freaks her out a bit.

How do they react to a compliment? An insult?

To a compliment,

To an insult, she doesnt have the guts to stand up yet, and just takes it and tears up a bit or apologizing.

What are they best at?

Sewing/knitting/crotcheting, taking care of/playing with kids, and singing (by herself).

What do they often fail at?

Talking and being part of a crowd for now. But is working on it right now

What assumptions do others make about them and how does your oc react to them?

She has been made fun of a few times already and was bullied seriously once in her life. Shell try to ignore it, but if its bad or gets physical shell end up crying.

How many languages do they speak? Do they have an accent?

She only speaks english.

Do they label their sexuality? (Pan, Gay, straight, etc)

Cis, Bisexual

What is their ‘outlet’? How do they express themselves?

Mostly through her sewing. She doesnt have a lot of outlets and hasnt explored anything new yet.

Are they secretly worried about anything? (Worried about a friend, the future, family, etc)

Nothing serious, but her anxiety makes her worry about every little thing even when there's nothing to worry about.

(Extra, for the creator)

Why did you decide to make an oc?

The idea of a Jelliclesona sounded really cute and I ended up loving her a bit too much haha.

How did you pick their name?

Its one of my many nicknames my family calls me and I thought it sounded cute enough for her.

Are they modeled off any specific breed?

Not any in particular, all that I could think for her is that she would be some sort of a brown tabby mix. Her technical traits are unknown atm.

Are you currently in a rp with your oc?

Yes

Why did you pick that design for them?

All just because of my favorite things to lodge around in. The thigh highs are just personal aesthetic.

#cats musical #cats the musical #cats ocs #my ocs #jelliclesona #punkie #long post

[fantroll-purgatory]

Xanatl Cambre, or whatever!

I read homestuck the first time when I was 13 and now that I’m rereading it I realized I processed almost 0 things in it the first time. So this is BASICALLY my first homestuck oc as someone who understands what the hell is happening in homestuck. I’m only about 3000 pages in, so I might have some misunderstandings still, sorry! Please go crazy telling me what I could fix or change, and I also have 0 clue for his appearance soooo. 

Okay! I’ll do my best to tighten this character up a bit!

Name: Xanatl Cambre 

Pronounced “Shan-uh-teal Cam-bray” (for the Aztec god Xolotl, and the coloration of darker axolotl’s- axanthic + the Spanish words for walk and fire/light)

Camnar is a seven-sweep-old violet-blooded troll who failed to fully complete his metamorphosis, for some reason or another- it happens! He possesses an extra set of fully functioning arms, a small flippy-flappy finny-tail-nub, and big bright purple shiny eyes. Everything else seems like it’s grown in okay, probably. Though he was fully capable of surviving his grub trials, his defects are admittedly uncomfortable enough to maybe have earned culling when he was only a few sweeps old, if not for [name here], a jade-blood with a penchant for healthy freaks and everything there is to learn about them (ESPECIALLY messed-up metamorphisizers) assisting in chopping off the extra bits every once in a while when drones come around. And definitely NOT keeping them in a walk in freezer to study. He’s not crippled or weakened by any of them, anyways, they’re just weird to look at- his eyesight might not be great, but he wouldn’t admit it. 

Fire, salamanders in general, the Aztec god Xolotl, and all around childish imbecility are all pretty big parts of and inspiration for his character. 

Hmmm. I feel like this passage comes off as fairly ableist, so watch your language here (i.e. “freaks,” “crippled,” “childish imbecility,” etc.). There is nothing wrong with a jadeblood being interested in mutants who remain healthy or in Xanatl not being weakened by losing body parts or even in him being childishly careless but language matters and I don’t feel comfortable letting it slide.

Interests: Penchant for outdoor land activities, especially camping. Loves using the time on those camp-outs to start fires, make star-maps, and attempt to commune with the dead through rituals found on old forums (with little success).

I like this bit as an emphasis on the fire theme, and I actually really like that you made a seadweller with that fire theme!

 A very keen interest in the occult and black magyks generally, but too lazy to go all the way with it, and too scared to perform it in his underwater home. A notable interest in weather-tracking, especially large storms and how they grow, change, and die. Mild inclinations to cannibalize other trolls- luckily, most don’t fit in his mouth.

WGAT

Finds great joy in training his lusus to do tricks and assist in hunting for dinner. A great cook! Especially loves spicy food (mustard flowers grow around his hive, and he uses their seeds/”eye of newt” for a kick a lot of the time). General propensity to put whatever he can fit into his mouth in his mouth that caused a lot of sickness as a young troll. One of his favorite non-food things to eat that isn’t necessarily dangerous are agave americana plants, which he grows and keeps all over the top floor of hive (he probably could not keep any other plants alive). Spends a lot of time with [insert jadeblood’s name], but mostly out of the obligation of their friendship, because he’s kind of tired of her cutting his fingers off to study their regrowth. He’s also mildly obsessed with siren stories and myths, but he doesn’t really know why. 

He lives in a two-story hive. The lower story sits below the water in a somewhat shallow muddy canal, and the top half hugs the shoreline. He spends most of his time in the bottom half, though.

Ooooh I really like that setup!

Personality: He’s kind of a coward. Very averse to change, but not fully content in his quiet life. He doesn’t particularly like company and when other trolls are around he feels urges to hurt them until they go away/are digested. Those urges don’t make him uncomfortable or guilty. It’s natural! Despite enjoying his outside time, most things he indulges in are sedentary- he’s very lazy and drowsy most hours of the night. He’s very defensive of his interests and his home, a little insecure in general. His high caste boosts his self esteem and his mutations knock it down- though he’s very removed from his society as a whole, self isolating with abandon, he dreams of mingling with the upper class in the deep ocean. Every troll and lusus around would probably kill him if he tried though, haha! He doesn’t like to talk about his emotions, or his future.

Wow unfortunate mood.

Special Abilities: None! Not notably strong, compared to any of his peers. A pretty normal kid/fish. Well, his extra arms and tail have some regenerative properties- he’s not sure if this extends to the rest of his body, and he refuses to test it. 

Strife Specibus: Mandible-kind. Xanatl’s teeth are fairly small and underdeveloped, sharp but tiny. He has a set of big dentures he fits over his own teeth, fixed from a few native canal beasts lost teef. 

Ooooh I really like that! You could also maybe have him fashion Greek-fire like molotov cocktails that he is verrrry reticent to use since it would burn his house down possibly.

Fetch Modus: Not sure! Maybe something to do with those lame circular life-cycle charts. Or a call to lotl’s regenerative abilities, like it breaks a piece off the item and it has to regrow so he can use it.

Hmmmm. What about a MITOSIS MODUS, which accepts an item and begins the process of cell division. For the next 24 hours, the item is inaccessible, but after those 24 hours he has two of the item!

Symbol and Meaning: Oh, no idea.

I’ll explain a little more down under title assignation, but I think Aquamini, Sign of the Idiosyncratic works exceptionally well.

Handle: neotenticSalamancer OR neotenicNecramander ? I wasn’t sure if it HAD to follow the GCAT thing, and if it did, what to use. 

You don’t have to follow GCAT! Those trolltags were specific to Hussie’s narrative and you don’t have to adopt that convention. I actually really like neotenicNecromander it’s cute.

Quirk: So I have two ideas for this:

replaces “sh” sounds with “x”, misspells often, not one to xout or use capital letters in general, and ends sentences with his tail =>

Or

u232 3 to r3plac3 “e” and 2 to r3plac3 “s”, 32 billion b3ing th3 numb3r of ba23 pair2 in th3 axolotl2 g3nom3… 2till u232 th3 cut3 tail too tho =>

Ooooh I like the first one for readability! Like yes leetspeak is a valid quirk but also I like when people break from that.

Lusus: Giant salamander-sized two-faced Xoloitzcuintli-type amphibious woofbeast. Not sure what to call this guy! Maybe “Mudpapi”, like mudpuppy. 

I love that nickname :D

Land: Land of Tilapia and Lightning, LOTaL (haha). Big beasts and big storms both threatening to swallow him. 

I super appreciate the acronym so I wanna keep that, but the first word of the Land usually related to its feel and the second to its quest. I can kiiiinda see how you could build a quest around lightning but the Vibe being tilapia doesn’t quite track for me. What about Land of Torches and Lightning, so it’s a bright planet but with two light sources trying to extinguish one another?

Title: I’m not sure I want him to ever god-tier because of his crippling fear of death and change. Like he would probably just blatantly refuse to, and stay content with being at the top of the echeladder pre-god tiers. I don’t know what his title would be, it’s a tough one! It’d be funny to make him a seer (for axolotl’s terrible eyesight, and the myth of xolotl crying his literal eyes out), but he’s probably a page. Of what? I’unno. 

:) I think he is for SURE a Page of Doom then. He has so much to do with death and rot and a lack of embracing that, and I can see potential for the character to really grow into that.

Lunar Sway: Derse? I’m inclined to want to give him both, because of the minor twin theming, but not sure what the rules are there. 

Ehhhh his personality is a lot more Derse with the desire for control over his circumstances. There are certainly cases where characters can have two moons but I don’t think this is it.

Thank you!!

No problem! I hope this helped!

-TR

#violetblood #seadweller #submission #review #tr review #xanatl #cambre #xanatl cambre #anonymous

[lostinshawnsmemory]

Figure You Out: Chapter 1 - Shawn x African OC

A/N: I’ve had the idea for this fic for a while but it wasn’t until @vnv21 mentioned in a post a few months ago that she wanted to see Shawn and an African OC that I knew that I had to write it being African myself. It took a while to get to this point and I wanted to thank everyone who helped.@rulerofnocountry who came up with the name, @bugheadfanatic, @sean-mendezzzzz, @shawnssnack and @justbeingoceana who read through it and threatened to unfriend me if I didn’t write it, as well as @shawnsvalentine, @thotmendes and @shawnase for showing interest in it, and @tisvanessa (tagging her again 😂) for designing the mood board. I hope you enjoy it and feedback is very much appreciated.

PS: Music plays a huge role in the story as well as the writing process. As the fic goes on there are going to be songs used that aren’t very familiar so at the end of each chapter, I’ll link the song(s).

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: The N-word is alluded to in a song title, but it’s censored.

MASTERLIST

Series Masterlsit 

Fic Playlist

“T! Are you ready? We’re going to leave soon and you haven’t had anything to drink yet!” Tolani was still doing her makeup while her new housemates were in the common room pre-drinking. This was their first outing as a house and while she would have preferred to do something else, everyone wanted to go out, so she was putting the final touches on her makeup and spraying her hair with some braid sheen.

She looked in the mirror one final time before heading out of her room. Her gold highlighter paired with the gold shimmer on her lids made her skin glow. The addition of a dark matte lip made her look like an ethereal badass. While she never wore makeup that much, she had to admit that she looked damn good when she put in an effort. 

“T!” she could hear one of her flatmates yell. Her name was Desire, the one person she’d spoken to the most, being the only other black girl in the dorm they’d formed a strong bond and it was nice to have someone that understood her at least a little bit.

‘Okay.’ she thought, ‘I can do this, I can go out there and socialise.’ As she walked down the corridor she could hear music in the kitchen, it sounded like an EDM track. ‘Not my choice of music, but it could be much worse.’ “Oh my gosh! You look stunning !” another one of her housemates named Nicole, exclaimed as she walked into the kitchen. Nicole was one of those girls that you misjudged when you first met her. She seemed obnoxious and stand-offish when they first met but Tolani later found out that Nicole was incredibly sweet. ‘A small girl with a big personality.’ “That outfit is perfect!” She was clearly a little tipsy, as Tolani was only wearing a black tank top, black skinny jeans under a black denim jacket and heeled boots. “We need to get you something to drink! What do you want? We have vodka, beer, tequila, gin and a whole lot of mixers.”

“Um, I-I’m not sure.” Tolani stuttered. While she knew what she liked and liked a drink every now and then, she didn’t want a situation where she found herself in an awkward position, given the fact that she didn’t know these people very well. Being in a dorm with 10 other people she didn’t know wasn’t her idea but that’s what university was all about, new experiences and while she was open to them, she wasn’t as open as everyone else seemed to be.

“I think I’ll just have a coke for now.”

“You sure?”

“Positive” Tolani replied with a tight smile.

Getting drunk after only being here a few days was not at the top of her list but she seemed to be the only one concerned about it. “You know, we don’t know much about you, other than the fact that your name isn’t actually T” Nicole turned to her. ‘Having people butcher my name isn’t fun’, she thought. Tolani hadn’t bothered telling people her full name seeing as Tolani Aderogba didn’t exactly roll off the tongue. All she’d told them was that it was a nickname when they asked her if her name was actually the letter T.

There seemed to be a friendly atmosphere, which was made friendlier by the large amounts of seemingly free-flowing alcohol. They’d moved in only in less than a week but she could already hear people drunkenly professing their love for each other. And while she knew they were all somewhat nervous to be in a confined space with people they didn’t know, she felt out of place. From what she could hear from snippets of conversation most people had grown up in and around Canada, there were people from Quebec, Vancouver and  Toronto and from what she could tell, she was the only international student in her house and that made her feel like an outsider. ‘To be fair not everyone has moved in yet, maybe there will be more people like me.’

30 minutes of small talk and one rowdy uber ride later, they were in line to get into the club “Chin up you look miserable” Desire gently elbowed her in the ribs. “You definitely should have had something to drink.” “Well now I can be the designated sober friend” Tolani joked, Desire was the only person she would consider her friend at that moment. Hopefully, that would change. ‘Maybe I should loosen up and have a little fun.’ Tolani thought as they walked into the bar. ‘I can have something to drink, that doesn’t mean I’ll get drunk and lose control.’

The club wasn’t very crowded but it took a while to find a table large enough for all 6 of them.

Tolani ended up sandwiched between Desire and one of her other housemates Kyle. “So, T” he turned to her when they were seated with their drinks “Tell me about yourself, I feel like I’ve only seen you in passing and I’d like to get to know you.” He said as he shifted closer to hear her over the music. “Oh,” Tolani replied, taking a sip of her drink. Desire has ordered her a Smirnoff ice, not her drink of choice. “To start you off easy” she joked.

“Well as you know my name is T, well not really but that’s what everyone calls me.”

“You’re not Canadian, are you? Where are you from?” He interjected. ‘Wow. He’s enthusiastic.’ She thought

“I’m actually from-”

“Wait let me guess you’re from Africa. I say that cause your accent is different”

At that point, Tolani was prepared to shut down the conversation.

“I am from Africa.” She said with thinly veiled irritation. “But there are 54 countries. I’m actually from-”

“Have you seen a lion before?”

‘Oh for fuck's sake. I’m not drunk enough for this.’ “Before I answer your question, I need another drink.” she turned and looked at Desire hoping my her eyes signalled that she needed to leave. Luckily her friend got the message.

“What was that all about?” Desire shouted in an attempt to talk over the blaring music as they walked towards the bar. “He asked me if I’ve seen a lion.” Tolani scoffed with an eye roll. Desire couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe he’s nervous when he talks to pretty girls.” She winked. “Haha very funny. Either way, it would be nice to have a word in.”

“What would you like?” The bartender asked. “Can I get a double Hennessy and Coke please?” She responded politely.

“Straight for the Henny I see?”

“Well, if I’m going to listen to Kyle ask me if I’ve seen lions I might as well drink something really strong.”

By the time they were seated, Kyle was deep in conversation with Nicole about their childhoods growing up in Mississauga, while Desire was flirting with a guy who had walked up to the table. Feeling a little awkward Tolani started humming, along to the songs the DJ was playing. As soon as he changed songs she couldn’t help but smile and she started absentmindedly rapping along to ‘Good Life by Kanye West, one of her favourite songs. There was something about Kanye West telling you to throw your hands up in the sky that made her feel free.

“And she got the goods

and she got that ass I got to look, sorry.

Yo, it’s got to be, cause I’m seasoned, haters gimme them salty looks, lawrys.

50 told me go ‘head, switch the style up.

And if they hate, let ‘em hate and watch be money pile up.”

One by one, everyone at the table turned to her as she rapped along and vibed to the song flawlessly. Soon enough everyone joined in encouraging her. ‘This is what I needed.’ Tolani thought to herself as she continued singing, getting louder with each line.”I go for mine, I got to shine. Now throw your hands up in the sky.”

When the song ended, Desire leaned close “We’ve got to get you on the dance floor.” Desire chanted in her ear. Usually, Tolani would decline bu the alcohol combined with the excitement had her smiling and turning to Nicole. “Wanna dance?”

“Of course!” She nodded enthusiastically.

The three girls made their way to the dancefloor where the DJ was playing Juice by Lizzo, the definition of a feel-good pop anthem. After that, the DJ played some dancey in EDM tracks and while Tolani would usually roll her eyes at songs like this, she was tipsy enough that she could enjoy them.

Soon she heard the familiar synth beat of a song that made her yell in excitement. Ni**as in Paris was a song that never failed to get her excited, whether she was at home reading a book or in a club, her reaction was always the same. She knew all the lyrics and she made sure her friends knew it.

“She said, “‘Ye, can we get married at the mall?”

I said, “Look, you need to crawl 'fore you ball

Come and meet me in the bathroom stall

And show me why you deserve to have it all!” Everyone at the club was screaming the lyrics and Tolani could have sworn the floor was vibrating with the force of everyone jumping.

By the time the song ended, the 3 girls needed a break. “How about we get drinks.” Tolani proposed. As Nicole turned to answer her face morphed into an expression of shock. Soon after Desire’s face had the same expression. It took her a few seconds to realise that they weren’t looking at her but at something behind her. Before she could turn around she felt someone lightly tap her on the shoulder. Tolani proceeded to turn around and answer the person who had tapped her.

The first thing she noticed was his height. He was incredibly tall, easily 6 foot tall. Even though she wasn’t short at 5 foot 7, he still towered over her. As she tilted her head slightly to look at him the next thing she noticed were his eyes. While she couldn’t tell what colour they were, but even in the dim lighting, they seemed to sparkle. He was smiling down at her, his curls falling onto his face. That face, she could have sworn she’d seen him before but she couldn’t put her finger on it. One thing she couldn’t deny was that he was good looking.

“Hi.” His voice was light and silvery. It had an almost musical quality. She didn’t really think you could find people’s voices attractive but here she was.

“Umm hi there,” Tolani replied cautiously. She didn’t have a lot of experience with guys coming up to her and didn’t really know how to react.

“Feel free to tell me to leave, but what are you drinking? Can I get your next round?”

Before she could consider her answer her friends already answered with a resounding “Yes she does!” in perfect unison. Tolani whirled to look at them. A look of complete bewilderment on her face. She was surprised that her friends were so enthusiastic about this particular guy buying her a drink. She was definitely missing something.

“Umm… yeah, I guess you can?”

“You don’t sound sure. It’s okay if you feel a little uncomfortable. I can go.” he smiled politely.

“No, it’s fine.” She answered. “I just need to talk to my friends real quick.”

“I’ll wait at the bar.”

When she turned around her friends were looking around expectantly. “What?” She asked defensively. “You don’t know who that is, do you?” Nicole asked, a shocked look on her face.

“I’ll admit he looks really familiar but I’m not sure where I’ve seen him before.”

“That’s Shawn Mendes. He’s an incredibly famous singer. How do you not know who that is?”

“It’s probably because he isn’t very popular back home.”

“Oh yeah!” Desire exclaimed. “I forgot that you’re not from here.” While she meant well, phrases like that stung. It’s made her feel less than, like she didn’t belong here. And seeing as she didn’t know Desire and Nicole that well, she wasn’t sure how they really felt about her.

“What are some of his songs?”

“Where do I start?” Nicole rambled excitedly. “In my Blood, There’s Nothing Holding Me Back, Lost in Japan, Stitches-”

“He sang Stitches? I love that song.”

“Yeah him! Now go to the bar and go talk to him.”

SHAWN’S POV

Shawn saw being home from tour as a godsend. While he loved playing sold out arenas around the world, he also loved that he was able to relax and spend time with family and friends and be something that resembled “normal”. Hanging out with friends usually meant going for drinks and this night was no different.

Getting into the club was easy. Being a celebrity had its perks after all. Soon enough they were all seated and had ordered their drinks. When they all got together, it was like they never left. Trading stories about life, tour, girls. Anything and everything.

During a rare lull in the conversation, Shawn found himself scrolling through messages on his phone when his head snapped up as he recognised the song that the DJ was playing.

His love for Kanye was well documented. He’d said multiple times in multiple interviews that he listened to Kanye more than most artists. So hearing one of his favourite songs off his favourite Kanye album elevated his mood further.

He looked up and noticed that he wasn’t the only one enjoying the song. Across the room, he saw a girl rapping along to all the words and while he couldn’t hear her, he could see that she knew all the lyrics and was having a great time.

She had dark skin, the colour of umber and as cliché, as it sounded, she seemed to glow. Her braids moved as she swayed from side to side a huge smile on her face. Everyone around her watching and eventually joining in and soon enough the entire group singing along to the chorus.

As cliché as it sounded, he couldn’t stop watching her either. He wanted to go up to her but decided that it probably wasn’t in their best interest. When he was pictured talking to girls they fell subject to scrutiny from all angles. Mostly from his fans and it could get rough. 

25 minutes later that all changed. Even though he was here to spend time with his friends, his eyes kept wandering to the other side of the club where she was one the dance floor with 2 of her friends. She moved with the ease and comfort of someone who danced frequently, perfectly on beat to every single song regardless of the genre. She clearly loved Kanye as evidenced by the way she way jumping around to Ni**as in Paris. While most people looked drunk and uncoordinated repeating lyrics they shouldn’t be, she looked like she was in her own world, completely lost in the song.

“Shawn… Shawn!” The voice of his best friend Brian drawing him back to the conversation.

“Yup” he answered absentmindedly. “Dude, just go talk to her. You’ve been looking in her direction all night man.”

“Is it that obvious?” he asked sheepishly.

“Yes. Now stop stalling.” And with that, he got up and walked towards her.

By the time he got to her, the song had just ended and she had her back to him. He heard her ask her friends if they wanted to get a drink. He also noticed her friends eyes widen in shock when they noticed that he was standing here, but she was completely oblivious till he tapped her on her shoulder.

He finally managed to get a good look at her when she turned around. The first thing he noticed was her eyes. She had eyes that were clearly very expressive albeit clouded by confusion. He face was framed by black braid that hung down to her waist. While he couldn’t make out more of her facial features he couldn’t help but stare at her lips for a few seconds, he wouldn’t immediately describe someone’s lips as kissable but that was all that came to mind. Her lips were full in a way that could only be natural and they were currently pouted as she looked at him.

“Hi.”

“Umm hi there.” Her voice was husky and he noticed she spoke with a slight accent but he couldn’t place it.

“Feel free to tell me to leave but I was wondering if you wanted to grab a drink?” While he wouldn’t have been surprised if she said no, he was hoping she would say yes.

While she looked a little uncertain, her friends were the opposite, answering for her. “Yes, she does!”

“Umm… yeah, I guess you can?”

“You don’t sound sure. It’s okay if you feel a little uncomfortable. I can go.”

“No, it’s fine. I just need to talk to my friends real quick.”

“I’ll wait at the bar.”

As he walked towards the bar, he couldn’t help but smile. It only took a few minutes but she joined him at the bar.

“Hello again.”

“Hi. What would you like?” He asked trying to sound as calm as possible.

”I’d like to say surprise me but I’m not that confident in your ability to choose drinks” she said with a smirk. And that was when he noticed the dimples in her cheeks. “so I’ll go with a Hennessy and Coke please.”

Shawn ordered a Hennessy and coke for her and a reposado for himself. After the bartender placed both drinks in front of them, he took a sip of his and turned to her.

“So you like Kanye?”

“How’d you know?”

“I saw you when you were dancing to Kanye with your friends earlier.”

“Ahh! Well to answer your question, yes I like Kanye.”

The two talked about their favourite Kanye albums. Shawn telling her that his is Graduation. She told him that hers is My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Then the conversation morphed into a debate over which was better, both fiercely defending tier choices with much laughter.

“So I know you like Kanye a lot, but I don’t even know your name.”

“That’s because I haven’t given it to you.” She tilted her head to the side, almost as if she were sizing him up. “My name is T.”

His thoughts stopped dead in their tracks. ‘Her name is Tea? As in T-E-A?’ He thought before it dawned on him ‘No you idiot, she means the letter T.’

“T. As in the letter T?” He asked confusion lacing his words. “Does it stand for something?”

“It does stand for something but I haven’t decided if I’m going to tell you what it means yet.” She said smugly.

“Can I guess?”

“I can guarantee you won’t guess.”

Shawn then began listing every name he could think of that started with T.

“Tiffany”

“Nope”

“Theresa”

“No” she shook her head, braids swaying with the motion.

“Tyra”

“Not even close” she scoffed.

“What about Tiana?”

She chuckled and muttered something under her breath that he couldn’t make out. “I told you, you can’t guess.”

“Will you ever tell me what it stands for?”

“Okay,” she rolled her eyes playfully. “It’s…” she leaned close whispering in his ear “Tolani”

“Tow-lah-ni” he repeated.

She couldn’t keep in the laugh that exploded from her and had her banging on the table. He noticed that her dimples became even more prominent when she laughed. ‘Something to note’ he thought.

“Close enough.”

“It’s a beautiful name but I’m guessing that my pronunciation is off?”

“Way off, but I’ll forgive it. So now you know my name, but I don’t know yours.” She said with a raised eyebrow.

“Something tells me you do.” He replied.

“I do, but I want you to tell me.”

“My name is Shawn.”

“Shawn Mendes.”

“I’m assuming your friends told you?”

“They did. I probably should have known huh?”

“Not necessarily. It’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t completely starstruck even though I don’t mind that.”

“Ah, the pop star that wants to be normal.”

“Something like that.” He shrugged.

The conversation lulled, they both took a sip of their respective drinks.

Before he was able to something she looked behind him and started to leave. “My friends are signalling. I think they’re ready to go.”

“Wait.” He grabbed her arm before she left. “Can I at least get your Instagram or something?”

She hesitated for a second, before asking the bartender for a pen. She scribbled something on the bar napkin and handed it to him. ‘@tolani.a’

“It was really nice to meet you, Shawn.” She said before turning to meet her friends.

Before Shawn left the bar he opened the Instagram app on his phone and searched for her, his thumb hovering over the follow button before tapping it. Then he locked his phone and placed it in his pocket.

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes x poc #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fan fiction #my writing

[qrimson-quill]

3, 5, 8, 15! Fave 3 OCs currently!

Aight ‘non, guess I’ll choose Padma, Chath, aaaaaand...Poe?

3) Are they a sore loser or a sore winner? Padma: Between the two it would be “sore loser”, and even then she really isn’t a sore loser unless the reward would’ve directly benefited her. Say she and a group of assassin’s all have the same target: she would gun it to be the person to complete the mission first because it would do her reputation a whole lotta good, plus earn her props for being the executioner. Now if she’s in a drinking contest and loses she doesn’t mind as much--the point is to get as drunk as possible with good company!

Chath: When Chath first came back, and for a good chunk of time after, she FOR SURE was a sore loser. She lashed out at almost everything and was a completely different person. Hate to say it but when she realized she would never escape her undeath and regain her old life, Chath mellowed incredibly. Still, it’s really not advised to insult or underestimate her--Chath is not nearly as volatile as she used to be but her deadliness has only increased.

Poe: Neither! Poe is the odd-one out. Even if she’s trying to impress a lady and fails, Poe will try and spin the comedy of the situation. If it doesn’t wind up working out, well--Poe’s just happy to flirt with beautiful women and sing a little tune :’)

----- 5) How well do they know their limits with eating too many sweets? 

Padma: honestly my girl hasn’t had many sweets. On one instance Master Drëd gave Padma a slice of sand-melon which sticks out to her because Drëd *never* believed in giving her food (he viewed hunger as the best teaching tool) and it was the sweetest, most delicious thing she had ever tried! It doesn’t say much but it’s her favorite fruit now--and once Padma had “dainty crumble-bread” (cookies) when she was rescued from dying by a cleric named Hypatia. The woman made cinnamon-cherry cookies and Padma smashed the whole tray of 30 before getting very, *very* sick. Padma hasn’t found anywhere else that sells or makes them yet but if she ever comes across cinnamon-cherry cookies, she has to have AT LEAST eight. Or ten. Or fourty.

Chath: Chath is not a fan of sweets, for the most part. Her village didn’t have a lot of money so sugar wasn’t a common ingredient, thus there weren’t opportunities to try many candies, and as a revenant now she doesn’t see much point in eating sugary sweets. She’ll indulge Heart and Poe whenever one of them wants Chath to come over for tea and eat a small bit of tea-cake, otherwise its rare to catch her snacking on confections.

Poe: Again, not really a “sweets” eater, but definitely the most out of the three. Poe doesn’t go out of her way to eat candies but she doesn’t mind trying some (ormaybepassingoutpotcandy) and she’s the most likely to accept chocolates or sweets. She tries not to eat too many and has a good limit--catch her on the Dragonleaf though and you’d probably get her to eat anything by the fistful, haha.

------

8) If they are going out partying, what would your OC(s) look like? 

Padma: Inviting but dangerous, a palette of black, red, and purple. Padma would exist in clothes that show skin beneath baggy hoodies or flowing shawls. Short-short black jeans with rips and distress, fishnets, a crop-top of some design, a good pair of shit-kicker boots or some cute creepers; if this was back when she was with the guild, working for Drëd, she would wear a rainbow-metal eternity collar. After Drëd, Padma wouldn’t wear necklaces. Bold eyeliner, dark lipstick, and her hair down instead of braided for once. Also she’d probably swap her gold nosering for a cute sapphire stud or something.

Chath: Threatening. Dark. “Do not speak to me, look at me, or breathe near me”. No skin showing at all--dark black skinny jeans, boots with a small heel and the witch-point at the front. A baggy graphic tea if she’s feeling casual, a long-sleeve black shirt if she’s feeling fancy. Dark makeup, pale face.

Poe: The odd-one out! Flannel sweater either open and baggy or tied around her waist, some nice distressed blue jeans, a tank-top with some sort of weird design on the front, and either some doc martens or some cute-ass flower-detailed boots. Poe is a lover and she wears that on her sleeve.

----

15) What OC nicknames everyone? 

Out of the three? Poe, for sure. Poe loves indulging her friends and families with nicknames that inspire her about them--Aislinn is “Belladonna”, Chath is “Frosty”, Heart is “Catnip”...the list literally could go on forever. Padma would be the second choice. She came up with the codenames for herself and her boys, after all! Thanks for the ask, ‘nonny! And thanks for being interested in my babies! :) <3

[staytheb]

Private Matter

Pairing: NCT’s Jaehyun x OC [Nayoung] Genre: slice of life, slight fluff Word Count: 1,206 Summary: Nayoung encounters Jaehyun at her niece’s birthday party. She’s been avoiding him, but it doesn’t seem to quite work as Jaehyun doesn’t plan on leaving her alone. sequel

Warning: none, curse words, suggestive words or whatever lol

this was another previous work written like six years back and got a new character change lol but yeah, i felt like Jaehyun fit as i wanted to write with someone else and my sister’s been wanting to read about some other person. anyways as for the title, that’s all i can really come up with. i am really bad with them and always have to find something within the story itself to title it. so yeah, happy reading and kthxbai, Admin Lia~

"Happy birthday to you!"

Everyone sang in unison for baby Roah's second birthday as they gathered around the toddler as she happily sat upon her mother's, Sieun, lap. Sieun helped her daughter blow out the candles on the cake as everyone cheered and clapped before Eunwoo, Sieun's husband and Roah's father, began to cut the cake into pieces. As this was going on, Nayoung, Sieun's sister, found herself backing away from the crowd of family and friends as to withdraw herself quietly from the merriment. While successfully backing away a good distant without being noticed, Nayoung's back suddenly bumped into someone from behind her in the process. Nayoung whipped her head to see who it was and came face to face with the person she's been ignoring for the past few days.

"Oh, it's you." She said drily as she faced the person while crossing her arms over her chest.

The said person was none other than her fellow co-worker, Jaehyun. Her non-acknowledged childhood friend and whatever else she felt like calling him. Majority of the time it was 'Casanova' and 'Idiot'.

"Oh, Nayoung, ouch."

Jaehyun faked hurt as he grabbed the left side of his chest where his heart laid underneath.

"I thought we were passed this stage already, Love."

Nayoung scowled upon the nickname as Jaehyun cast a playful smirk in her direction before returning to an upright position. Nayoung really hated that he called her 'Love', but no matter what she said, Jaehyun would call her that regardless.

"Oh, haha, funny. Bite me." Nayoung remarked sarcastically not really in the mood to deal with the male.

"It would be my pleasure, Nayoung."

Jaehyun shot her a charming look as Nayoung rolled her eyes.

"It's a figure of speech, Idiot."

"The only figure I see is you."

He grinned as he wiggled his eyebrows up and down while giving her a once over. Nayoung once again scowled as she rolled her eyes once again at his lame line.

"Well, I don't have time to mingle with the likes of you. I need to get going."

Nayoung made to move past him, but Jaehyun caught her by the wrist and prevented her from walking further with his free hand.

"Oh, you can't leave yet, Nayoung. I just got here." He pouted while giving her his so-called "famous" puppy look.

"That totally doesn't work on me, Casanova."

Jaehyun returned back to his former expression with a slight smirk.

"I like trying though."

"Yeah, I know. Anyways, I don't have to tell you and you can just hang out with Sieun without me. She's like me, but older and has a different name and personality than me." Nayoung told him as she freed her wrist from his grasp. "Besides, it's not my fault you got caught up at the office with the new girl."

"Why? Jealous?" Jaehyun asked as he cocked an eyebrow.

"Of Naeun? Yeah right." She scoffed. "I'm not the jealous type when it concerns you."

"Oh? Then what type are you when it concerns me?"

"The nothing type. Now I'm definitely gonna be late. I need to get going."

"Don't leave yet. You haven't seen the present I got for Roah."

"And what is that?"

"Ta-da~" Jaehyun chimed as he brought out a cute plush toy from the bag he held in his left hand. "She'll love this, don't you think?"

All Nayoung did was scrutinized intensely at the medium-sized white and red stuffed animal. She had an inkling feeling that she's seen this before and she couldn't figure out why. Then it finally hit her.

"That's the stuffed animal that Naeun gave to you on Valentine's Day, isn't it?" Nayoung accused him.

"What no way!" Jaehyun denied as he quickly put the plush toy back into it's gift bag. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"It is!" Nayoung countered as she noticed his ears slightly turning red.

She slapped him on the arm with a glare.

"That's the big-eyed owl I helped picked out for Naeun to give to the person she liked on Valentine's Day, which turned out to be you, unfortunately."

She cast him a look of displeasure.

"I can't believe you're going to give that to my niece. Do not give it to her. So take it back."

Jaehyun let out a scoff.

"Take it back? It's completely new and hasn't been played with at all. You're crazy."

Jaehyun then redirected the topic away from him.

"Don't you have somewhere you need to be right now?"

"Don't try to changed the topic, Jaehyun, even though I really need to get going."

Nayoung glared at him.

"You're lucky I need to be somewhere in a hurry or I would have beaten you black and blue right here and now."

"Oh, my love, we can have that moment in a more private matter later when you returned." He cheekily remarked.

Jaehyun dodged a punch aimed towards his left cheek.

"Oh, Nayoung, watch it there. I need this face for a photo shoot tomorrow."

"Humph, maybe I should hit you somewhere else that won't show."

She shook a fist at him, but Jaehyun took a hold of her fist with a playful look.

"Like I said, Love, we can have a private moment to ourselves another time."

"Gah! You're so insufferable."

Nayoung shook his hold on her and threw her hands up in the air in frustration instead.

"I don't know why I even bother with you. I'm going and if I find that toy near Roah at all, I'm tearing it to shreds."

"Tsk. Why are you going to hurt a poor defenseless plush doll like that? I thought you like stuffed animals."

"I do, but not as much as my sister. Besides, that one doesn't count. Bye." Nayoung dismissed herself as she stalked off in a hurry.

Jaehyun watched her go with a small smile on his face.

"She's real cute when she's angry."

"I don't get you two at all." A female voice spoke up from behind him.

Once he turned around he saw that it was Sieun.

"It's just how our relationship is." Jaehyun answered with a secretive smile. "It's just our thing and no one else will get it."

"I bet." Sieun agreed with a laugh before motioning with her head. "C'mon, Roah's been asking for you and Eunwoo wants to talk to you about something."

The two began to walk towards the others when Jaehyun asked Sieun where Nayoung had to go off to in such a hurry.

"Oh, that. Well, Dad asked her to do something at the office that he needs to be submitted by today and she's the only one that can do it as she's been working on whatever it is that Dad asked her to do." Sieun replied while shooting him a playful look. "Why? Already miss her?"

Jaehyun didn't bother to comment on the last part, but mused on the other information.

"So, she went to the company you say?"

"Mmhmm."

"I'll be back."

Before Sieun could even asked what Jaehyun meant, he had shoved the birthday gift into her arms before going after Nayoung. Sieun shook her head with a smile before returning to her daughter with Jaehyun's gift.

#staytheb #nct scenarios #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct 127 #nct u

[misssquishy]

an old fanfiction that I wrote when I was 16.

So I wrote this about three or four years now, and I forgot about it until now. I had no idea what the hell I was doing, my grammar is terrible and I want to share this gross shit. starring two of my OC's Red and Aaron, I didn't know what I wanted to do with the characters at the time but I made it anyway, If you want part two of this just asked, I still have it, enjoy.

Nsfw 18+ oral/ language/ gay shit

Red "OK, which one Steven Universe or Family Guy" Red said holding up two DVDs.

Aaron " I don't care" Aaron replied flopping on the couch, it's been a year since they hang out before Red got married they just didn't care about each other the only reason that they know each other because they dated the same girl (Jessica) and they will always fight for her affection. But tonight they were friends, drinking beer, watch TV and get high like the good old days before the money, fame and the fans.

Aaron "WHY WON'T IT STOP" Aaron scream in his head trying to hide the pain.

Red "dude are you okay?"

Aaron "y... yeah, yeah why you ask?"

Red "because it look like you're about to rip the material out of your pants" Red pointed at Aaron's hand that was gripping his jeans.

Aaron "oh I'm fine"Aaron replied

Red "are you sure we can st..?"

Aaron "I SAID!...I'm fine" Red knew something was wrong but he left it alone he didn't want Aaron to get mad, Red start over the few seconds of the show that they missed by talking. An episode went by and it didn't take long for Red to notice Aaron leg was shaking.

Red "do you feel ok?"

Aaron "I think, i'm just going to take a walk" Aaron jumping up and scaring Red, Aaron walked to the door slipping on his shoes and grabbing his jacket, Red did the same thing also while following him.

Red "wait let me come with you, I don't want you to get robbed" Aaron stopped slowly turned around and looked at Red.

Aaron "first of all, I don't need a babysitter and second, who the FUCK! is going to rob me, you live in the middle of BUTTFUCK! nowhere surrounded by trees and shit, who the hell I'm i going to get robbed by, Bambi?" Red looked at Aaron and just sighed. Aaron and Red walked outside to their surprise the sky was red.

Red "hey a Blood Moon cool" Red look up at the sky then he looked at Aaron, Aaron face had the look of pain and disgust.

Red "Aaron, are you okay?" Red said reaching his hand out trying to touch Aaron shoulder, before he was able to touch him Aaron ran back inside, red try to keep up with Aaron speed but he was no match for him.

Red "Aaron, what's going on?" Red said out of breath. Red found Aaron in the living room pacing and mumbling to himself, Red walked over to Aaron trying to calm him down but Aaron pushed him away.

Red "Aaron calm down" Red walked over to Aaron once again successfully placing a hand on Aaron's arm but once again Aaron pushed him away harder this time, Aaron pushed Red into the couch making it slide back a little Red grabbed his side in pain.

Red " WHAT THE FUCK!" Red was about to get up and punch Aaron in the face but when Red looked at Aaron he froze, Aaron eyes was glowing yellow.

Red "Aaron, please tell me what's going on" when Aaron saw what he had done he smiled. Aaron grabbed Red by the collar and slammed him against the wall knocking down things off the shelf and picture frames off the wall Aaron and Red eyes met one another.

Red "let me call Jessica maybe, she can calm you da"

Aaron "SHUT UP!" Aaron said cutting off Red sentence.

Red "what?"

Aaron "shut your dumb fucking mouth for once " Aaron let go of Red shirt and backed up.

Aaron "I'm sorry, just don't call Jessica she don't need to see me like this " Red walked to Aaron solely.

Red "you need help".

Aaron "ha, HAHA!".

Red " why are you?"

Aaron "haha you, you think she can help me" Aaron said with a Devil's smile, Aaron walked to Red and smiling.

Aaron "the only one can help me is you, Reddrick".

Red " what do you mean?" Aaron push Red against the wall and kissed him, Red pushed Aaron away from him in disgust.

Red "WHAT THE HELL, AARON!" Red screamed at Aaron

Aaron "I'm sorry it's the blood moon" Aaron said backing away from Red.

Red "what?" Aaron grab Red once again his eyes glowing yellow and staring into Red's eyes, Aaron then whispered into Red's ear.

Aaron "I mean I'm going fucking crazy"

Aaron "when a blood moon rises i became an animal" Aaron said without breaking his smile.

Aaron "I became a horny dog in heat" Red remember that Aaron was a werewolf but he didn't say anything about this. Aaron begin to slide his hand up Red's jacket. Red pushed Aaron hand away in anger.

Red "Aaron i'm married now i am not doing that again with you"

Aaron "you think i want to do this, I CAN'T CONTROL IT!"

Aaron "please I need you" Aaron sighed while kissing Red on the check.

Aaron "please....please Reddrick" if Red say no, Aaron will go out and kill someone but if he go through with this he risk his marriage.

Red "I'll....god damn it...I'll do it" whit out hesitation Aaron kissed Red lap's, feeling the old familiar lip's that Red had forgotten, Red slip his tongue into Aaron mouth feeling there own warm saliva run down there chen's. the boys pull away from each other panting.

Red "I forgot how good that felt" Red said while wiping the spit off of his face and Breathing heavily.

Aaron "I remember you being a terrible kisser I guess all the months eating out your wife really paid off, huh?" Aaron said with heavy breaths.

Red " will I remember you being a dick about it" The boys looked at one another then laughed in unison. The laughter quickly decrease when Aaron grabbed a fistful of his hair and start wincing in pain, Aaron crouched on the floor and a painful sigh left his mouth. Red walked over to comfort Aaron pulling his hands away from his head and holding them in his own hands, Aaron looked that Red with the same glowing yellow eyes.

Red "I'm really going through with this" Red sighed. Red lift up Aaron off of the floor entwine his fingers with Aaron's and slowly walking him to the stairs.

Aaron "What are you doing?"

Red "We're going upstairs, i'm not fucking you on my couch" as they began to walk up stairs. Red smile he know what was about to come and he couldn't wait. Memories started to overflow Red's mine. Red reminisce of moments Aaron and him shared the hate sex was glorious. Red pushed Aaron into the room closing the door behind them and rushing over to close the blinds.

Aaron "what the hell are you closing the curtains for? your neighbor lives a mile away from you" Aaron asked confusingly

Red "the old woman like the all seeing eye" Red jokingly explained then Red stopped dead in his tracks and realized something.

Red "hey, my marriage is on the line so if anyone find out about this"

Aaron "No one will know" Aaron said cutting Red off and pulled Red closer to him.

Aaron "Now, can we please just fuck?" Red pushed his lips against Aaron's and slowly unzipping his jacket and Aaron did the same with his own. Without breaking the kiss Red took off his shoes kicking them to the side Aaron soon followed doing the same thing with his own, Aaron then grab Red's hips and pulling him closer to his crotch, grinding against Aaron's bulge. The feeling of his jeans was uncomfortable to Red, he can feel his erection scrape against his zipper. Red pulled Aaron away and then sat down on the bed.

Aaron "what's wrong?"

Red "it's nothing i just, i want to cum Inside you not in my pants" Red took off his shirt then he pat the bed gesturing Aaron to sit next to him to him. Aaron got closer to Red but he didn't sit on the bed, instead he crouched down between Red's legs feeling the outline of Red's bulge.

Aaron "take them off" Aaron demanded. Eagerly Red stood up and pulled down his pants, as soon as Red pulled down his boxers his dick popped out his boxers and hit Aaron in the face.

Red "sorry" It didn't seem to faze Aaron, Aaron got right back into position and opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue gesturing he wants to take in Red. Realize what Aaron wanted Red shoved his dick into Aaron's mouth, Aaron gagged on Red's cock feeling him hit the back of his throat but Aaron didn't care, he needed it this, he wanted this.

Red "that AMMM!, that's my good puppy" Red moan while he fumbled with Aaron's hair. That nickname, that damn nickname "Puppy" was the name that Red give Aaron when he found out that Aaron was a werewolf. Aaron love when Red called him that, when Red called Aaron Puppy he got excited. Aaron started to squeeze his own bulge softly, Aaron moan around Red's cock pulling it in and out of his mouth, licking the tip and slowly licking downward to Red's balls and gently sucked on them, that cause Red to moan. Red missed Aaron warm mouth, everytime Aaron looked up at Red, he just smiles. Red gasp when Aaron took his cock and balls in his mouth, Red threw his head back and his loud moans echo through the room.

Red "FUCCCK!" Feeling like he was about to blow, Red pulled out of Aaron's mouth. Red grant Aaron by his hair and pulled him into a kiss, tasting his own salty pre Red then whispered into Aaron's ear.

Red "take off your clothes and get your ass on the bed" Aaron knotted taking off his clothes and hopping on the bed, taking off his boxers Red climbed on top of Aaron. Feeling Aaron soft warm skin with his fingertips Red rubbed his hand over Aaron's chest moving his hand slowly down and gripping Aaron's tip. A soft whimper escape from Aaron's mouth, small touches begin to turn into full strokes Aaron's moans filled the room that inspire Red to move his hand faster, Red's hand was quickly covered by Aaron's precum.

Aaron "Red AHhnn!, Reddrick stop I can't take anymo..ANH!" Red grip the tip of Aaron's cock making Aaron scream. Aaron shuddered from the feeling of Red's fingernails digging into his tip, the feeling of pain shot up Aaron's spin that caused him to orgasm cuming into Red's hand.

Aaron "i..i..hate you" Aaron said with a shaky voice

Red "you're the one that wanted this" Aaron smirked, Red was right Aaron did wanted this, that's why Aaron grabbed Red's hand that was covered in his cum and began to lick it.

Red "ha, you are so gross" Red said while Aaron stared into Red's eyes as Aaron licked up and down Red's palm and between his fingers. Red phone started to ring pulling both of the boys out of they trance, Aaron let out a deep sigh.

Red "shit, it's my wife"

Aaron "You better not answer that" to Aaron dismay Red picked up the phone he was hesitant it at first, he turned to look at a pissed off Aaron.

Red "hey Allison, how's the trip?" Red answer the phone trying to sound happy. Allison is Red wife, they married for about four months now, everyone thought they made a cute couple. Allison went back to Wales to visit family for a few weeks.

Allison "it's going great"

Red "that's good"

Aaron "are fucking serious?" Aaron whisperedm

Red "shut up"

Red "sorry, Aaron is being a cunt" Red said to is wife. Aaron got impatient, he didn't want to wait. Aaron jumped on Red started to grind on him. Red moaned in to the phone, realizing what he had done he covered his mouth. Aaron spit in to his hand and started rubb it on Red's dick.

Red "stop it"

Allison "are you okay?"

Aaron " hi Allison, your husband is being a pussy" Aaron said while stroking Red's cock. Aaron placed Red cock that his entrance and slowly put it inside of him, both boys moaned in unison.

Red " I have to call yo...you back" Red hanged up the phone his mind filled with regret and betrayal he is betraying his wife but Red couldn't help but moan as Aaron tighten around his cock, short and sharp moans left Red body as Aaron ride him.

Red "this is bad" Red moaned

Aaron "hush, you know you want me" Aaron kissed Red deepening there embrace, Aaron moaned as the feeling of Red's cock hit his sweet spot and stretching his hole. Red grabbed Aaron's hips and shoving him all the way down on his cock, a shriek escape from Aaron's mouth. Aaron sucked on Red nipples that cause to Red quicken his pace as Aaron tightening around him.

Aaron "am i tighter than your wife?" Aaron moaned. Red nodded an response' Red rubbed both of his thumbs on Aaron's nipples and pinching them, Aaron started to jack off rubbing up and down his cock while moaning Red's name.

Red "I don't no ho..how long I can la..last. Red moaned.

Aaron "FILL ME UP WITH YOUR CUM!" Aaron screamed, Red came filling Aaron with his seeds followed by Aaron's own orgasm that drench his hand and covered Red's chest.

Aaron "well that was fun" Aaron moaned, Aaron licked Red's chest that was covered in his cum. Red pushed Aaron away, he hated hisself all he can think about was his wife crying, his face quickly fill regret and Aaron noticed. Aaron wrapped his arms around Red laying on his chest.

Aaron "I'm sorry if your marriage go to shit, you can blame me"

Red "you're damn right!" Red chuckled, Aaron ran his fingers through Red's hair. Feeling Aaron's warm embrace Red started to ease up, feeling Aaron's hot body on his made Red happy but that ended when Red heard soft snores from Aaron.

Red "HEY!, get off of me" Red said while shaking Aaron. Aaron popped out of his quick swamper and stared that Red.

Aaron "I missed you" Aaron drifted back into sleep and once again Red try to wake him up but Red stop and smile, he can't deny that did miss Aaron to. Red relaxed he match Aaron's breathing with his own and quickly went to sleep as well.

Aaron worked up feeling tired, he looked over to see a sleeping Red. Aaron get up and creeped to bathroom, when his are done Aaron looked into the mirror and smiled to himself. But Aaron smile turn into a deep frown when he heard little laughs that filled the room catching Aaron's attention, Aaron looked around the room but to no avail no one was there however he did know who's laughing.

Aaron "i know you're here, where are you limn" A dark misty figure appeared in front of Aaron and floating around his head.

Limn"Well that's a Laugh and a half"

Aaron "what do you want?"

Limn "You always think that I want something"  "Limn" is a figment of Aaron imagination a "substitute" the doctors call it from his PTSD, If something bad happens or if get in trouble Aaron will always blames Limn but Aaron knows it's real.

Aaron "you're an asshole that stalks kids"

Limn "I was just watching the show"

Aaron "I don't have time for this" Aaron walk towards the door but before he could leave he was stop by Limn who was floating in front of the doorway.

Aaron "I want to go back to sleep"

Limn "You can go, i just wanted to say hi. So how was the hate sex? Your lover seem to enjoy himself"

Aaron "he's not my lover"

Limn "But you do hate him?" Limn floated behind Aaron, his face turned into Aaron's face, the mist that was Limn's body turned into a dark cape, he copied Aaron perfectly to his hands, his hair, his height even his voice but Limn eyes was different then Aaron's, Limn scleras was black and his irises was White.

Limn "You do hate him, why?"

Aaron "I don't hate Red"

Limn "You hate him, because he left you for her" Limn turned Aaron's face to the mirror.

Limn "See? Even your body know the truth" Aaron's eyes was yellow feeling his body fill up with anger, Limn whisper into Aaron's ear.

Limn "Just imagine ripping his heart out and leaving it for that bitch to fine" Aaron smile he thought about killing Red before, he thought about shoving his hand into Red's stomach and pulling out his intestines, Aaron thought about breaking every bone in Red's body, ripping his flesh apart with his teeth hearing his blood gargling screams as he tear Red's eyes out of his head.

Limn "let me take control" Aaron thought about it if you go through with it he will break his contract, Jessica will be angry, he will loses trust with his brother and he'll be in prison for murder and he will have killed the man he love even though he didn't love him back, Aaron took a deep breath.

Aaron "go to hell"

Limn "No?,listen here brat"

Aaron "no listen here to me bitch" Aaron said with a deep serious tone.

Aaron "I changed, i'm not the same kid that you bossed around, this is my body, and no way in hell you're getting control" Aaron stormed out of the bathroom trying to put the conversation behind him. Aaron stand in the doorway of Red's bedroom saying his past lover sleeping peacefully made him feel happy, he know it won't last but for now Red is his.

Limn "You think you can get away from me that easily?" Aaron's eyes widened his mind filled with pain, feeling Limn cold breath against his skin Aaron notice he wasn't in control.

Aaron "how?"

Limn "No matter if you beg or cry or how many drugs the doctors give you to forget me, you can never get away from me, Marshalmis "

Aaron "if you hurt him"

Limn "I'm not going to hurt him, but you are"

Aaron "what?" Aaron start to coughing up black blood Aaron turn to see Limn smiling, Aaron felt like he was on fire that caused Aaron to scream but nothing was coming out. He was begging for Red to help him but no words came out of his mouth.

Limn "Have fun" Limn disappeared, leaving Aaron to lie in pain.

Aaron "YOU BASTARD!"

the end of part 1

#fanfic #fanfiction #lemon #gay shit #i want to diiiiie #werewolf #demon #the birds was invented by the booshwazee #original character #fantasy #its 3am #original #original fanfiction

[dazaaaai]

Was having a summoning ability your first choice? Did you have any other abilities in mind and why did you choose them? Why did you choose your ability?

This is the loveliest ask I could’ve gotten, I think. It’s really very thoughtful and I’m so glad you sent it, anon-chan!

My summoning ability was not my first choice. There were many other things I thought of before I settled on it, but I’ll explain how I got there!

I follow a specific formula when trying to come up with names by basing it on the title of a piece of writing (any writing!) instead of its plot, like the authors in BSD, who often times have quite clever ways of interpreting their books and poems. I had a few titles to work with, and they were my half-finished (at the time, now they’re completely finished!) novels, Prince of Shadows and Road to Ruisea, plus my “show idea” that I made a pitch bible (but not an actual book) for, Crossed Over.

Plots of the things regardless (you can poke around my art blog if you want to know all that!), I only focused on the titles. Road to Ruisea was something I didn’t come up for an ability at the time (now it’d be a traveling ability of some sort, I imagine), but it was one option I pondered. I decided to focus on Prince of Shadows instead, as it was my Big Novel Project, and the ability I came up for that was either to summon a shadow to fight my battles for me (a la Demon Snow, Golden Demon, or Vita Sexualis) or alternatively, to control people via controlling their shadows. Both of those things seemed a little violent or villainous to me, and a little contrived! There are a lot of abilities like that even in canon. (My character Teddy, who is the Prince of Shadows in that novel, comes to BSD in OC form to have that ability himself. It basically makes him a ghost.)

It really had to be perfect. I decided that Crossed Over, despite not being so much a book, was definitely a) a creation that was most significant to me - and the one my friends knew the most about - and b) written! Partially. So that had to be the name of my ability. The first idea I had for that was a body-swapping ability, and it was the one I was very close to sticking with but um it was . Kind of ew, actually! I didn’t want to be in somebody else’s body. Another idea was a dimension or portal ability, because Crossed Over is kind of about other dimensions and portals. Buuut that seemed fairly useless, and Lucy kinda had a thing like that too. So… No.

The summoning idea hit me when group chat friends pointed out to me that I had this incredible knack to be able to bring anyone to our side just by mentioning their name. People could @ them for days but as soon as I mentioned them they showed up! I got the nickname of Sara the Summoner, and it was pretty important to me, haha! I could bring any of my friends to my side if I wanted just by saying their name.

Oh.

That was cool. That was going to be my ability and it made sense, too! “Crossed Over” from one place to another, forcibly, for me. Kinda like in my storyline, ha!

But how would it work? Just by saying their name? Things in BSD are never that easy. There had to be a catch, there always is… The first catch I figured would have to be a time limit, right? If I haven’t seen them in an hour. Would the second catch be that I had to draw them? That seemed useless in a fight, it’d take too long and I am not that good of an artist!

Photographs came about because I realized that the screenshots of the show I was making were also very important to me. I took it very seriously! I was literally taking pictures of the characters. That could be my job in the Agency… That could be the catch of my ability. I needed a photo of them. I took so many outside the universe, it’d make sense if I did so in-universe, too!

And the ability as a whole was a cute way to acknowledge I’m not much of a fighter! I depend on other people. Especially Dazai

Hope this answers your question, anon-chan! Thanks for letting me talk about it!

#bungou stray dogs #self insert #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou sd #literary stray dogs #ask #anonymous

[ofvisitorsthefairest]

5 Facts Tag Game! 🧡

The aim of the game is simple; list at least 5 lesser known facts about your WIP and/or the OC of your choosing! I was tagged by @kidsarentallwrite who wrote about her wip Poster Child which I am seriously in love with.

I’ll write about Splitsville since essentially every fact about DWCB is unknown, haha. That would be too easy.

1. It was originally going to be a story about a girl adjusting to her first year of college, becomign close with a new group of friends. The only real carry over from that (besides the female protagonist) is that that version was going to feature a boy who was deaf in one ear (although Archer is deaf in both)

2. The name was originally a placeholder, inspired by the group for divorced kids at my elementary school called The Banana Splits. 

3. The concept came to me while I was researching adult childs of divorce one day and remembered the aforementioned Banana Splits. It’s slightly inspired by my parents’ separation, but moreso emotionally. No character has the same situation as my family.

4. Normally I have a very easy time naming characters, but not with Splitsville. Sid and Archer were easy. Sid I deliberated on for a few minutes; it was between that and another boyish nickname I can’t remember anymore. Archer was going to be Fletcher for a split second before he renamed himself and jumped into my mind instantly fully formed. I made a nameberry forum to help with Pamela and Teddy. Teddy was very nearly Benji. Pamela went through a lot. She was going to be Fiona at first, but I was legit worried about the shrek association. Felicity and Cosima were also options. Pamela’s little sister was going  to be Maisie (I was worried it was too similar to another character, Marcy). Then she was Antonia, and now Birdie.

5. I view the main cast of 4 as being like me in one of 2 ways--personality or interests. Because I’m less like Teddy and Pamela, I gave some some of my interests to make them more relatable to me. It’s the opposite for the other two. Because I more easily relate to their personality/roles in the group more, I gave them hobbies I’ve never had remote interests in. To put it better, I worked backwards to find ways to relate to Pam and Teddy, and I worked backwards to find ways to differentiate from Archer and Sid.

Sorry, those were long winded. Tagging (optional, of course) @whollyart @dreamstormdragon and @reining-in-the-fire-writing

#my wips #splitsville #tag games