#Astrid Deetz imagine

[toournextadventure]

a cold reunion

Summary: Astrid hasn't visited her mother's old house in a while. She wonders if someone new has moved in by now. Maybe it'll be a "ghost," like her mother claims used to live there. Ha. She would be so lucky.

Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: mentions of death, Tim Burton style tones Pairing: Astrid Deetz x Reader A/N: I know absolutely nothing about this movie, only the original, so I'm just gonna have some fun with it

Being a Deetz was one of the most irritating parts of life. At least, it was in Astrid’s opinion. Even without her own uncommon interests, she was held to the standards of her mother. Because her mother was weird, everyone assumed she was too. Which she was, but it wasn’t fair she couldn’t make that statement for herself.

She used to have a friend. You had been new to town and hadn’t known anything about her mother. It led to a wonderful friendship. Her favourite classes were the ones you had together, and eventually, she invited you over outside of school. Everyone thought you were crazy to agree, but you never faltered.

Even her mother and grandmother liked you, saying you were a “good kid.” Astrid knew better, you were trouble. Always in detention or being scolded by teachers in the hallways. You were anything but a good kid when it came to following the rules. But she wouldn’t deny, you definitely sweet talked your way into her mother’s and grandmother’s good graces.

You had done the same to her, pulling her in until she didn’t want to leave. The first kiss had been under the bleachers at a football game; disgustingly cliche. You had tasted of the cigarettes you stole from your mom. A disgusting taste, but it was good on you.

But as soon as she really started to like you - a little more than like, she would admit - you disappeared. You hadn’t been at school that morning, and when she went to your mom’s work, she had said she didn’t know where you were. Said it was no surprise you left; you could do better than this town.

That had been two years ago. Your mom had left town not long after your disappearance. Everyone assumed she had done something to you; a suspicion that came from the simple fact that your mom was, as the town called it, “trailer trash.” She was a nice person, Astrid had always liked her. She didn’t blame the woman for leaving.

Even Astrid had left for college once school was over. What else was she going to do, stay put? No, she wanted to get started somewhere else. Somewhere she wouldn’t be saddled with the name Deetz like it was some kind of curse. She loved her mother more than she would ever care to admit. But she wanted to do something for herself.

It was winter break before she came back home.

“Leaving already?” Her mother called from the porch when she grabbed her bike and started walking it to the street. “You haven’t even been here for three hours.”

“I’m going to check on the house,” Astrid said with a shrug. “I heard the owners moved out.”

“They did, thank god,” her grandmother said. “They did that house no justice.”

Bold coming from you, Astrid thought but kept her mouth shut.

“Don’t stay out too late,” her mother said.

“Lydia dear, when you were her age, you were almost marrying a ghost,” her grandmother said. “Consider it karma.”

“Mom,” her mother sighed.

Astrid had already hopped on her bike and started down the street. The path to the old house was well-worn; everyone knew it. The old owners had tried their best to convince everyone the house wasn’t haunted, but most of the town didn’t believe it. At least none of the school kids. They had jumped at the opportunity to have a haunted house in town whether it was real or not.

You had always liked that old house. No one had ever fully convinced you that ghosts had lived there, but you liked the thrill of it. I don’t think they’re real, but what if? You had asked one night after sneaking in through her window. We should check it out one day. After you disappeared, she had avoided the house like the plague.

But Astrid knew the path by heart. Snow had been plowed from the streets, and the dutiful citizens had shoveled the bridge. When she approached said bridge, she slowed until she could get off the bike, walking it across instead of riding. Her mother had made it clear that under no circumstances was she to ride or drive over the bridge. It was a silly rule; she followed it anyway.

The house was more run down than usual. It shouldn’t have upset her as much as it did. After all, it wasn’t like she had really ever lived in the house anyway. But it was still part of everything she had known growing up. To see it practically falling apart was… well, it was nothing short of devastating.

Without taking her eyes off of the house, she propped her bike up by its kickstand and slowly made her way to the front door. Step by step, each stair creaked under her weight. The house was a little creepy. Maybe it would be best if she just didn’t go in. After all, the door was practically falling off the hinge, if she actually knocked it would-

-the door swung inwards.

And you were standing there in the doorway with your eyes wide. You looked like you had seen a ghost.

“What are you doing here?” Astrid asked quietly.

You exhaled harshly, shoulders sagging with the movement.

“Want some tea?”

—---

Astrid looked as beautiful as the day you had left. Well, no, you hadn’t exactly left but… no, that was something you would face later. For the moment, you were going to enjoy seeing her again. It hadn’t been long, but she had grown into her own. Beautiful as always, too.

And way too quiet for your liking.

“Chamomile okay?” You asked when the kettle was near screaming.

She nodded once, not removing her eyes from you. It was unsettling; you had used to love it. Astrid wasn’t like normal girls, and not in the “too cool for school” kind of way. It was more of an “I’ll be me whether anyone likes it or not” kind of way. If she wanted to be weird and goth then she would and no one could stop her!

But you didn’t like how she was looking at you.

You placed the teabag in the mug and slid it in front of her. The kettle was only seconds away from screaming when you pulled it off the stove. No need to burst anyone’s eardrums. There was no point in being careful with the scalding water as you poured it into her mug.

“You disappeared,” Astrid said while you were mid-pour.

“About that,” you hummed.

“Does your mom know?” She continued. “That you’re right back where you started?”

Your mom. Momma. She had been left all alone after… how had she fared? Were the townspeople nice to her? They had better be, or you would personally bring hell to every single one of them.

“What does she think happened to me?” You asked as you turned around and placed the kettle back on the stove. You didn’t turn back around.

“What everyone else thinks,” Astrid said, “that you ran off.”

“Was she okay?”

“Honestly?” She asked. “She said she was glad you got out of this little town. Said you were too good for it anyway.”

Well that… that almost hurt worse than knowing she never knew the truth. Your momma hadn’t been perfect, but she had done the best with what she had. Time and time again, she had told you in her drunken stupor that you were destined for great things. You had always taken it to heart.

You need to tell her.

“Hey, Astrid?” You asked with a weak voice.

She hummed for you to continue.

“Remember in school when we would say we didn’t believe in ghosts?”

“Yeah, why?”

With a sigh, you turned to look over your shoulder. Astrid’s head was tilted slightly in that way you always found cute. It didn’t click just yet. She just kept looking at you, waiting for you to continue. You raised your brows at her. She was almost there, you could tell by the slight crinkle in her nose, and- ah, there it was.

“You’re joking,” she said.

You gave her your best tight-lipped “white person” smile but otherwise didn’t answer.

“You saw one?” She asked.

Oh. Oh, no, she didn’t get it.

“Well, yes,” you said, turning your full body so you could lean back against the stove and look at her, “but that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are-” there it is “-oh.”

There was something in her eyes when realisation dawned. Her eyes, while a gorgeous dark brown, were usually so bright. So happy, even when she was trying to act like she didn’t care about the world around her. But this was different. Any brightness dimmed to practically nothing.

“How?” She asked.

You shrugged and looked away. “The football team pushed me off the bridge.”

It wasn’t a fond memory, that was for sure. The icy layer covering the river had been rather sharp. But even that hadn’t compared to the pain of inhaling freezing water deep into your lungs. From what you could remember, it was slow. A memory you didn’t enjoy having, but maybe one day it would go away.

“You were murdered?” Astrid asked incredulously; horrifically.

“I mean listen, it’s not too bad,” you attempted to play it off. “It got me out of taking winter finals, which we both know I would’ve failed.”

“But it’s-”

“-I know, Astrid,” you interrupted.

You liked Astrid. You would even go so far as to say you loved her, mostly probably. Were you young? Sure. A little stupid and naive? Absolutely. High school sweethearts? You would say so, yeah. But she instigated a little too much, and she wanted to know everything, but this just wasn’t really something you wanted to indulge her in. Not yet, anyway.

Astrid was quiet for a moment. The gears were turning in her head, you could practically smell the smoke coming off them. What was she thinking, you wondered. Was she dwelling on the fact that you had died, cold and slow and alone? You certainly hoped not, it wouldn’t change anything. You were dead, you were now a ghost, and long-distance relationships weren’t that hard any more thanks to technology, so you could both still make it work!

If she wanted, of course.

“I thought my mom said her ghosts were stuck in the house for, like, a century or something,” she said instead.

You laughed. That was much easier to answer. “I told their caseworker I’d take their place. You know, let them rest in peace, or whatever,” you waved your hands vaguely.

“Caseworker?”

“It’s a long story.”

“So you’re why the previous owners left?” She asked.

“Guilty as charged.” You wiggled your fingers in her direction and smiled.

For the first time all day, she smiled back. God, you missed her smile.

“If you really are a ghost,” she said with a tilt of her head, “how can you pick things up?”

“Ooh, we’re getting to the fun questions,” you said with a smile.

The look on Astrid’s face was perfect. Curious, distrusting. The best mix of emotions; you loved when she was uncertain. It was a more genuine look for her, instead of trying to act like she knew everything and always knew what to expect. Always made her look super cute, honestly.

You walked over to where she was sitting at the run-down table. She turned to keep facing you until you were standing directly in front of her. It was going to be a risk, but one you were very much willing to take. Worst case, you stay stuck in the stupid house forever. No different from your current predicament.

“Took me a few months to really get the hang of it,” you said. Her eyes sparkled again. “You just focus on what you want to touch,” she blushed, “and voila.”

Her blush vanished when you picked up the mug beside her. What you really wanted to do was touch her. Gods, you wanted to know if you could still feel her warmth, the softness of her skin. But it wasn’t time. No, she was probably still worried about the fact that you had… well, you know. Died.

“It took you months to figure out how to do that?” She asked with a cheeky smile.

“Shut up,” you huffed, placing the mug back on the table. “It wasn’t like I had much to work with.”

“Why didn’t you ask my mom’s old friends how to do it?” Astrid asked before leaning back against the table. “I’m sure they would’ve helped you.”

“Never actually had the pleasure of meeting them,” you said with a shrug. “I only got to meet the other guy.”

“The other guy?” She asked, looking away in thought for a moment before looking back at you. “Oh, you mean Beetlegeu-”

-you slapped your hand over her mouth before she could continue.

“Don’t say it,” you whispered.

She nodded once, and you pulled your hand away.

“Was he really that awful?” She asked, matching your tone.

“He was that annoying,” you grumbled. “God, I swore the guy would never shut up.”

Astrid did her little crooked smile and laugh. The one that you would always try your best to force out of her during class to get her in trouble. Wait, that sounded bad. You didn’t want her to get in trouble, you just would have enjoyed her presence in detention. With you.

“So what else did you take two years to learn?” Astrid asked. She leaned forward until she was so close you could smell her shampoo. “Anything exciting?”

Wait. Wait, this could be your chance. You might be able to do something about it, this could be your shot. Two years in limbo, sitting in a run down house that did nothing but remind you of Astrid with everything you saw. It was her family’s house. You couldn’t leave her even if you had wanted to.

“Well,” you said, “there is something I’ve been wanting to test out.” You looked up to meet her eyes. “May I?”

“Let’s see what you got, ghosty,” she said.

You nodded to yourself and focused. Focused on her body, more specifically her face. Her stunning, beautiful, gorgeous, smiling face. Day after day, you had been thinking of her, and you had hoped time and time again that somehow she would come back to the house.

One deep inhale, hold your breath. Your hands were shaking so badly you would have dropped everything had you been holding something in the first place. And yet, Astrid didn’t budge when you lifted your hands and placed them on either side of her face. Exhale.

Her body was absent of warmth. Astrid had never been an exceptionally warm individual to begin with but this was… different. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell her that you couldn’t feel her. Sure, you could touch things, but you couldn’t feel any of it. It wasn’t something you could describe, except calling it surreal.

“May I?” You asked again.

You could feel her breath on your lips even as she nodded. It was all you needed to pull her into a kiss. There was still no warmth, but there was a… a comfort in it. In feeling her lips against yours again after so long. To feel her breath mix with yours, replacing everything you didn’t need but you so desperately craved.

Her hands attempted to settle on your hips but fell straight through. In turn, you felt her shoulders sag as she placed her hands on your knees instead. That was… not a nice feeling. Maybe you could learn to focus enough to let her feel you back. That was possible, right? Surely it was.

You pulled away slowly. If you could have stayed kissing her for the rest of your century in that hellhole, you would have. But unfortunately, Astrid still had to breathe, and you had to give her the space to do it. Earlier you had questioned if you had really loved her or if it was a puppy love?

Oh no. It was the real deal.

“You can’t leave at all?” Astrid asked. “Not even for an hour or so?”

“You mean the haunted house isn’t romantic?” You teased.

“What do you even do in here all day every day?” She asked.

Once again, she reached out to touch you. Somewhere, anyway. You looked down at where she was attempting to hold your hand. Maybe if you could focus really hard, it would work. As far as you knew, you couldn’t materialise. At least, you didn’t think you could. But if you really concentrated.

Her fingers slipped between yours and, for the first time in two years, you felt her squeeze your hand. Physical touch. Real physical touch.

“I, ah,” you stammered, looking down at where she was still holding your hand. “It’s in my contract to scare people.”

“Contract?” She asked. Your arm moved as she pulled you closer. Okay, maybe physical touch was a bit unfamiliar to you after so long, you would need to get used to it again.

“My caseworker says I have a quota to meet,” you said, finally looking back up to meet her eyes. “So many people each quarter, you know?”

“So you need people to scare?” She asked. “On a regular basis.”

There was a sparkle in her eye. Something dangerous; scandalous.

“You have something in mind?” You asked with a tilt of your head.

Her smile was vicious. And attractive.

—---

The house looked beautiful in the daylight. The paint was fresh, the inside was cosy, and when nighttime fell? Rumour had it the ghosts came out to play. That was why most people rented out the house; their own private haunting for a night. The listing said if you could survive the night, the stay was free. So far, no one had lasted long enough to even give it a good shot.

And as you stood at the end of the bed watching the young couple sprint down the stairs screaming, you knew they wouldn’t be the winners either.

You walked over to the window and watched as they threw their singular bag into their car and peeled out of the dirt driveway. It hadn’t even been any fun, they hadn’t given you any time to actually scare them. Hell, all you had done was stand at the bed! You hadn’t made any faces, hadn’t pulled any jumpscares, you had simply stood there.

Were you really that scary?

“Gone already?” Astrid asked in a sleepy voice as she walked to stand beside you at the window.

“Didn’t even stay long enough for me to have any fun,” you pouted.

“Well, you’ve hit your quota,” she said. She grabbed your arm and pulled it over her shoulder before tucking closer to your body. After a few months, you were finally starting to feel a bit of warmth from her.

At least, you thought you did.

“Your mom is coming by in the morning?” You asked.

She hummed her confirmation.

“Maybe I can try to scare her, then,” you said.

Astrid pulled you away from the window and started walking you toward your shared bedroom. Not that you really needed the sleep, but it was nice to be able to lay next to her. It was exhausting to keep a more physical form, but for her? You would do it all day every day.

“Good luck scaring her,” Astrid said as she pulled you onto the bed. “She practically grew up with ghosts.”

“I’ll scare your grandmother then,” you said softly, but she didn’t move.

Astrid was already asleep in your arms, just like you had always imagined. Maybe being dead really wasn’t as awful as everyone had always made it seem. After all, it got you your dream girl.

[6rookie-writer0110]

Don't wake me up

Astrid Deetz x Reader (Gender-Neutral)

Summary - Date night at an abandoned theme park.

“What are we doing here?” Astrid asked.

“This is our date here,” You said.

You and Astrid are standing in front of an abandoned theme park at night.

“You said you didn't want a normal date,” You said.

“I didn't say that. But this could be fun, but nothing will work without the power” Astrid said.

“You don't have to be negative, I already thought about that” You smiled.

You kissed her cheek and she smiled. She grabbed your hand and followed you inside. You showed her where is the powerbox and you turned it on. Some of the rides did turn and others didn't turn on. You and Astrid start to walk around and you are feeling a little scared, but you don't tell her. She felt the squeeze you did on her hand but she didn't say anything about it. You and Astrid are standing in the bumper car rink, you notice the power box and turn it on.

“Let's do it” You smiled.

You and Astrid go to the rink and pick a different bumper car. You are surprised it started to move then she bumped into you, then she started to giggle. You and Astrid are just driving around and bumping into each other.

You and Astrid leave the rink and walk around again. Then she dragged you toward the games then she got behind the counter. You watched her set up the metal-rusted cans into a small pyramid.

“Throw the ball and see if you can a prize,” Astrid said.

“I don't think I would want those dirty plush,” You said.

She grabbed the balls from the ground and gave it to you.

“Just throw, Y/N” Astrid smiled

She moves to the side and she watches you throw the balls. You did knock the cans down

“What did I win? Please don't say those dirty plush” You said.

She went towards you, grabbed your shirt, and kissed you on the lips.

“I like this prize” you smiled.

“Me too” Astrid smiled.

You kiss her back and she doesn't stop smiling. You and Astrid start to walk around again, then you follow her to the carousel.

“Do you think it will work?” Astrid asked.

“I don't think so, it hasn't worked over ten years,” You said.

“I think we should find out,” Astrid said.

“Okay,” You said.

While looking around, you saw the power switch. The carousel started to move and turn around for a few seconds then it stopped.

“I’m surprised it worked for a few seconds,” You said.

“I did wish it kept working, it would have been more fun,” Astrid said.

You have your hand on the horse of the carousel. At first, you didn't notice the spider going on your hand now you noticed it, your eyes opened wide.

“Y/N don't scream,” Astrid said.

“I hate spiders” Your voice cracked.

You were about to shake your hand but she was quick enough to get the spider away from your hand. You started to shake your hand and she started to pet the spider. You moved away from her and she started to giggle.

“Y/N, pet it” Astrid smiled.

“No!” You stated.

“Y/N, don't be a baby. Pet the spider, see it won't bite” Astrid said.

She likes bugs and she knows that you hate every single type of bug. She told you before that some bugs are harmless but you don't care. She kept walking towards you but you moved away from her then she laughed.

“Astrid Deetz stop it,” You said.

“Wow, full name. Such a baby, Y/N” Astrid giggled.

You kept moving away from her and she petted the spider. She gently put the spider on the ground and she walked towards you. She did catch up to you and grabbed your hand and she is still smiling.

“You don't have to be scared anymore,” Astrid said.

“Gross you touched a spider” You teased.

“Whatever, Y/N” Astrid smiled.

You and Astrid kept exploring the amusement park. You and Astrid noticed the fireworks then you helped her climb to the roof of the funhouse. She sits next to you and she wraps her arm around your arm.

“I had fun tonight, Y/N,” Astrid said.

“Me too. First time doing this with anyone glad it was with you” You said.

“I feel the same way,” Astrid said.

You and Astrid looked at each other, then she kissed you on the lips. Then you and Astrid continued to watch the fireworks together.

[fandomnerd9602]

Y/N-Juice slides up to their case worker…

Y/N: I think I might die again real soon

Worker: but you just got resurrected

Y/N: have you seen my girlfriend?!

Y/N holds up Astrid’s photo…

Y/N: that eyebrow wiggle is gonna make my newly beating heart stop dead…again!

Worker: just go back home

Y/N: you got it!

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

If you said ‘yes’, please send me requests!!

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii |

summary: In a town divided between two rival street racing crews, you’re caught between your cousin’s crew, the Sinners and Jenna, a mysterious girl from the Vipers who’s more than just a pretty face. Both of you need something from each other, but as the stakes rise, you’re left wondering: what makes your heart race more— the thrill of the competition or the girl who’s impossible to ignore?

word count: 6.7k

A very special thank you to @ortegalvr for giving me the very much needed nudge to start moving my work to Tumblr. And to @cobaltperun for being so patient and thoroughly answering all my questions, essentially giving me (a Tumblr noob) a dummies guide to Tumblr. Appreciate you both!

————

Why is it that some of the best feel goods in life can just as easily kill you if you indulge in it too much?

Alcohol, drugs, illegal driving... love?

Fortunately for you, you only indulge in only one of those.

There's just something so satisfying about watching your car pick up speed; watching the little arm on the speed gauge reach it's full potential.  If cars are able to reach those speeds then they should, it's a fact of the matter.  And when you're surrounded by cars all your life and the only reason you have a livelihood is because of those three thousand pounds of steel, you're bound to make some fun out of it.

You push down on the accelerator with more pressure, reaching speeds of almost 180 km/hour when you see the flashing blue and red lights in the rear view mirror.

The feds.

"Took them longer than usual." you thought out loud.

Now there could be two reasons they're after you. The obvious, speeding.  But then there's also the fact that you stole the beauty you're driving from the town's richest neighbourhood, Summer Valley.

Of course stealing it is not enough for you, so you made some tweaks here and there in the garage so this ride could be even more illegal than it already is, and now you're selling it to an off the grid buyer.

Escaping the police wasn't something new, it's become routinely. You'd be more concerned if the cops weren't on your tail during a delivery.

You make a sharp turn right into a short alleyway marking the start of this high speed chase.

Being the exceptional mechanic that you are, your work on this car has given it a larger than usual turn radius which allowed the turn to be much smoother, giving you a good head start.

"Why are these fuckers in the middle of road!" You yelled panickily, upon seeing the herd of people in front of you.

You don't know when people decided to ditch the sidewalks and walk in the middle of the road, but clearly, you missed the memo.  You were forced to sound the horn a few times, and luckily the pedestrians were responsive and didn't cause you to lose your lead on the cop, but it may have alerted them—if you were lucky enough to lose them in the first place.

Once you finally got out of the alleyway, your phone started ringing, stealing your focus from the dark road in front of you to glance down at your phone for a millisecond.

Anton. Your cousin.

Anton Y/l/n. Your older cousin of three years. He was an impulsive firecracker that has the tendency to rope you into his shenanigans, not deliberately of course.  Despite his flaws he'd do anything for family. You like to joke around and call him Dom Toretto, and those jokes have only gotten worse after he buzzed his head after an unfortunate grease spillage accident that was entirely his and your fault.

That five letter name is the most anxiety inducing noun known to man in your books and everytime you answer the older guy's call, you feel as if your gambling your mental health.  He could either be calling to tell you about a huge car gig that he scored for you both or that he owes a million dollar debt.

You legit never know.

You groan and answer the call, putting it on speaker and tossing the phone to the passenger seat.

"What now?" you yell over the sounds of acceleration and police sirens.

"Come to Chester and Dan's lane." He says straight to the point, not questioning the noises he hears on your end of the phone. "After your delivery of course." At this point he's used to his little cousin getting chased down by the cops too.

"What's happening at Chester and Dan?" You ask looking at the side view mirror, squinting at the piercing blue and red flashes.

"Sinners are doing a couple rounds before the big race tomorrow. Join us, it'll be fun."

You sigh at your cousin's billionth attempt to get you acquainted with the Sinners. He's been trying ever since he first started as a general member of the club to now, the leader of the street race club.

"We'll see, I'm kind of in the middle of something," you shout over the sound of the tires screeching from a sharp turn you just made.

"Ugh! I'm not gullible like the other fucks in your life. Don't 'we'll see' me thinking it'll keep me satisfied and off your back for a while."

"I'm busy."

"Just step on the gas you pussy, going past two hundred won't kill you."

With a roll of your eyes, you think that you've entertained Anton's wishes enough and hung up the phone with the determination to lose the cops and deliver the 1969 Ford Mustang you're driving in one piece.

Twenty minutes later, a handful full of sharp turns later and momentarily stopping to let a group of duckling cross the street, you were finally at your destination.

"Car looks good to me," the off the grid buyer who introduced himself as John said with an approving nod after surveying the vintage black vehicle for quite some time.

You let out a breath.  You've made your fair share of deliveries over the years, and just like Anton's calls, you never know the type of customer you're gonna get.

Some customers complain about the price of parts, or a scratch on the car that doesn't exist or they go back on their word and attempt to haggle the price to something ridiculous.

"Nice work kid," John says handing you the promised amount you both settled on a couple weeks prior.  You didn't have to count the stash of cash to know that all of it was there.

"Finally," you sigh, smiling at the wad of cash in your hands and running your thumb along the bills, walking towards the direction of home.

Suddenly a car pulls up. "Give me the cash or give me your life. Your choice." Before you can register the words, you're met with the barrel of a pistol pointed at you through an unrolled passenger side window.

You knew you weren't a fighter nor were you confrontational. Even though you grew up in the tougher parts of the town, your brain is what got you out of your predicaments. If you were a fighter you wouldn't be spending your life stealing, fixing and selling cars.

Laughter interrupted you from handing over the cash.  Confused, you focus on the face holding the glock, and all previous thoughts disappeared and was now replaced with relief and anger.

"What the fuck Anton!" you angrily say, hopping into the passenger seat of the car next to your laughing cousin.

You knew better than to question the fact that your cousin had a gun. When you're the leader of a street race club, you need protection. Especially when all the other club owners own a gun, and fights always break out.

"You should've seen your face," he slips out in his fit of laughter, beginning to drive off as his cousin settles in his car.

"I thought you were street smart, you know better than to walk around this time flaunting your cash."

"I can handle myself, but yeah I should've been more careful. I was just a little excited finally getting paid," You admit, recalling the rut you've recently been in and the struggles you and your mother have recently been facing to make ends meet.

Anton acknowledges the response, "You know you could always ask me for help?

"My mom wouldn't take it."

Anton let's out a loud sigh, "No offense dude, but I don't get your mom's deal.  She acts as if I'm the reason our dads are dead."

You wince at the mention of your dead fathers.  Sometimes you wonder how Anton could talk about this stuff so easily.  "You just resemble Uncle so much, and to be fair you are following the same path as him."

Anton's father and yours, who were brothers, founded the Sinner's Race Club.  Anton's dad had always been your father's right-hand man in races, often riding in the passenger seat.  During a high-stakes race meant to settle a territory dispute, the brakes on your father's car failed, and both men were pronounced dead at the scene.

Since then, your mom understandably kept you away from cars, Anton, and anything related to the race club. She forbade you from getting a driver's license and doesn't even know you have one. Hiding it wasn't difficult, though, given that your family has more pressing expenses than a car.

"Alright, we're here," Your cousin announces, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I still think you should show up tomorrow. Sleep on it."

You step out of the car, once Anton puts the money you made from your sale in a spare backpack he had. So your mom wouldn't ask questions.

"How was your shift?" your mom asks from the couch as you walk through the door.

"Fine, just sore from lifting all those boxes," you lie smoothly.

"Hmm, get to bed early tonight."

As you head toward your room, her voice calls out again. "Oh, and Y/n," she says, making you turn back. "That better not have been Anton dropping you off."

You stay silent and head to bed, unsure of what tomorrow will bring.

————

"How the hell does your mom not catch on? She really thinks some warehouse gig's got you pullin' in forty grand at a time?"

You wipe the sweat of your brow, while you grab a car wrench. "She doesn't know I make that much, I help pay the rent and get food on our table. The rest I save."

"Smart. So, what's the big plan? Get outta Brimstone? Buy yourself a mansion in Summer Valley?" Mason sneers condescendingly.

This morning, you woke up to a text from Anton that convinced you to at least help prep the cars for tonight's big race, even if you don't plan on showing up. Now, you find yourself at the Brimstone Sinner's garage, the garage where you do your car modifications which sits at the edge of Sinner territory.

The place is buzzing with other club members scattered around, working on various cars. You, Anton, and—unfortunately—Mason, a friend of Anton's, who somehow wormed his way into the conversation, are huddled by the main cars, making sure they're in prime condition for the race.

"Ay! Stop distracting my best mechanic!" Anton shouts over the hood of the car to Mason.

Before you knew it you were rolling under the car via the creeper to work on the underside of the car. As you were finishing up you suddenly heard the garage go dead silent, but you didn't know why since your view was limited.

You hear Anton break the silence, "You got some fucking nerve walking into my garage asshat."

As you were lying on your back you could see about one foot from the ground up. You couldn't see who it was, but you could tell where they were from. The grey Dior dunks paired with the most unfashionable pants ever told you everything you needed to know.

Someone from Summer Valley is here.

Then came the laugh. That short, arrogant chuckle, the kind that practically exhaled wealth. Privilege. The very thing you despised.

"Just wanted to see you pussies before you lose all your dignity—oh and your garage. I'm already imagining what I'm gonna do with the place," the voice laughs again.

The conversation around you fades as your mind fixates on a single phrase. Lose the garage? Your hand curls into a tight fist, knuckles turning white. Did your dumbass cousin actually gamble the garage for tonight's race?

You try to focus your hearing, trying to see if anyone else is upset by the fact. But it's silent, they're unfazed, indifferent to the fact that Anton—the club's supposed leader—might have just wagered the club's most valuable asset. Property. You let out a sharp exhale. This is exactly what you couldn't stand about racers. They're all thrill-seeking junkies who only care about going fast. Does no one else here realize the gravity of losing this garage?

Anton snaps you back to reality. "Percy you ain't riding tonight if you're dead. Now get the fuck out before you catch a bullet."

Percy.

Leader of the Summer Valley Vipers. Just another privileged trust fund brat, bored one summer, who saw that the kids on the wrong side of the tracks had a race club and wanted in. So formed his own club. For the Vipers, racing was a hobby. For anyone from Brimstone? It was survival.

Once the obnoxious figure in those ridiculous pants left the garage, you rolled out from under the car, wiping grease from your hands. A quick glance around told you that everyone had already returned to their tasks, like the tense exchange with the Viper hadn't even happened.

Jaw clenched, you stomped over to Anton and gave him a firm nudge—just hard enough to make your frustration clear. "What the hell, Ant?"

Anton, mid-conversation with Madison—one of the club's members—turned to face you, exhaling a cloud of smoke. His brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"What? Seriously?" you snap. "What was Pissy going on about, losing the garage?"

He let out a long, drawn-out sigh before flicking the ash off his cigarette. "Relax, Y/n. It's just to raise the stakes, nothing serious."

"Nothing serious?" you say, mirroring his words once again. "This is my fucking livelihood, I can't live without this garage Ant? Where else am I going to fix cars?!"

Anton calmy takes one last drag, puts out his cigarette, and gestures for you to follow him outside of the garage, away from the rest of the club members.

Once you were outside Anton wasted no time in getting to the point.

"I'm only gonna say this once, Y/n. Don't ever talk to me like that in front of my people again. I run this crew."

His gaze softened slightly as he added, "I know we're family, but out here, I gotta be their leader. You get me?"

You nod understanding the politics of running a club like this. It wasn't simple and it wasn't like Anton was being rude to you.

"Now kid, listen to me very closely." Anton starts, his eyes narrowing, words firm.

You hated when he called you "kid," and Anton damn well knew it.  He was only three years older, but you decided to bite your tongue this time, sensing he had something important to say.

"You don't take risks," he said, his voice steady.

You opened your mouth to cut him off, but he quickly held up a hand, his words rushing out before you could get a word in. "—hold on, let me finish! I know you think stealing cars, making illegal mods, and dodging the feds is risky—and yeah, it is... for most people. But not for you. You're too good at it. It's not a risk when you know you're always gonna pull it off. You're in your comfort zone. You don't even flinch anymore."

You crossed your arms, shaking your head. "I don't need the gamble, Ant. Why would I put myself in a position to lose something—everything?"

"But why wouldn't you?" Anton fires back passionately.

For a moment neither of you say anything.

"That's the problem, Y/n," he said finally, his voice low. "You don't take real risks anymore because you're afraid to lose. But sometimes... you gotta lose something to really win. You know what I'm saying?"

You frowned, not fully understanding. "What's that even supposed to mean? I'm not trying to play some high-stakes game just for the thrill of it."

"That's not what I'm talking about, kid. I'm saying there's more to life than just getting by. You can't just keep doing the same shit because it's easy and familiar.  You gotta challenge yourself, push yourself outta that comfort zone. That's where the real reward is."

You shifted uncomfortably, not liking where the conversation was headed. "So what, you want me to throw myself into danger for no reason? What are you really getting at, Ant?"

His gaze stayed steady, not backing down. "I'm talking about the garage. Everything we've built. If you keep playing it safe, we'll stay small. But if we take some risks?  We could grow this into something huge, we could run the city, Y/n."

His words hung in the air, heavy. You hesitated, feeling the pressure. "And what's the catch?"

A slow smirk crept onto his face as he leaned in. "The catch is, we go all in, or we lose it all."

Your head shook slightly, confused and uneasy. Anton sounded insane right now, with all this talk of taking over the city. "I don't know," you muttered, your voice wavering.

"I'm not saying you have to. Maybe this," he said, gesturing around the garage and the cars. "...isn't your thing, and that's fine. But you've got to find what is. What's your purpose, your drive Y/n/n? What makes your heart race? What's worth risking everything for?"

————

"Just get home safe, and grab me a pack of cigarettes on your way," your mom says, her tone casual.  You exhale, relieved she let you leave without too many questions.

After your talk with Anton, and spending hours tuning up cars for the race, you head home, but your mind lingers on what your cousin said earlier.  His words hit deeper than you care to admit—he was right.  You've been stuck in your comfort zone for far too long, and you can't even remember the last time you did something that pushed your boundaries.

So, here you are, lying to your mom about getting called in for a late night shift when in reality, you're on your way to the race between the Sinners and Vipers.

Anton was practically beaming when you told him you were finally coming to the race.  He couldn't wait to give you a ride to the track.

"Took me, what—six years?  Finally got you to show up," Anton shakes his head, laughing as you slide into the passenger seat.

You ignore his teasing, cutting straight to the point.  "You nervous?"

"Nah, fuck no. Pussy's a trash driver—he's got nothing on me."

Your eyes widen.  "Wait, this is a title race?"

You didn't realize the leaders of both clubs were squaring off tonight.  A title race meant more than bragging rights—both sides were gambling big, this race could mean life or death for both clubs.

You were about to ask what else Anton had on the line besides the garage, but the car suddenly surged forward, the burst of speed nearly throwing you out of your seat.

"What the hell! Slow down!" you shout, gripping the armrest tightly.

"Relax, I'm not even hitting two hundred yet—"

The older driver begins to roll his windows up, a sign that he wants to go even faster. The world outside blurred as the engine roared, drowning out the sound of your pulse hammering in your ears.

"Anton. Stop." Your voice is steady, firmer than ever leaving no room for argument.

The driver sighs, gradually slowing the car down to legal road limits.  "You need to get over it eventually Y/n."

Those were the last words said for the remainder of the ride, you didn't want to argue with your cousin before he has one of the biggest races of his life. He knew why you were antsy with the going beyond a certain speed limit. He knew. Of course, he knew. The crash. The speed. The helplessness you felt back then. You gritted your teeth, willing yourself not to dwell on it, not to bring it up again.

You finally pull into the track, and your eyes widen in awe. It's like you were stepping onto the movie set of Fast and Furious. The area is packed with custom cars, their paint jobs gleaming under the glow of neon lights and street lamps, unique to fit the personality of each driver. Engines roar and rev, filling the air with a pulse that matches the energy of the crowd. People are everywhere—leaning against cars, laughing, shouting over the music blasting from speakers.

The race course itself stretches down a wide, abandoned road, littered with warehouses and graffiti-covered walls. Smoke drifts in the air from burning rubber, and the smell of gasoline is thick. You can feel the intensity of the competition buzzing in the air. This wasn't just a race—it was a spectacle, alive with adrenaline and danger.

Anton slowly turns into beneath a large abandoned overpass that you've often heard was a hotspot for racers and ragers. You pan your eyes across the windshield and immediately spot the rival race crews: a sea of black jackets to the right and a wall of red to the left, each group eyeing each other with the tension only moments from snapping.

You were so caught up in the moment you didn't even notice Anton turn the volume up as he played I Don't Fuck with You by Big Sean while rolling past the Viper's crew. Typical Anton—always stirring the pot. The Vipers glared but didn't act, clearly aware of who you were. You both look at each other and laugh as you join the rest of your crew a bit further into the underpass.

As your cousin parks the car he grabs something from the back seat and tosses it onto your lap—a black leather jacket.

You stared at it for a moment.  The design was unmistakable. A large, detailed skull with flames rising behind it, symbolizing both danger and speed. The club's name, Sinners, arched above the skull in bold gothic, tattoo-style font. The club your father founded. The legacy you never wanted.

Your chest tightened as you ran your fingers over the smooth leather. Putting it on would be more than just an outfit choice—it would be an open declaration of association. Your mom would kill you if she ever found out.

Sensing your hesitation, Anton laughed. "Relax, I can see the steam coming out of your head from here. You don't have to wear it, alright? Just throw it over your shoulder or something. People need to know who you're with, that's all."

With that, you both stepped out of the car, and the cheers erupted. They were loud, wild, and unmistakably for Anton—he was their leader. But as the energy surged through the crowd, you couldn't help but wonder if a few of those cheers were meant for you. After all, it was your first time showing up to a race.

As you slipped into the crowd, a few familiar faces greeted you with nods and casual grins, clearly surprised to see you here.  You exchanged small talk with some of the members, their conversations a mix of race gossip, bets, and tales of past victories. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, but as the minutes ticked by, you felt the need to break away, the noise and energy overwhelming you.

Stepping out from the cluster of people, you wandered toward the edge of the underpass, taking in the scene.  The place was massive—graffiti-streaked pillars towering above, just like the one you were leaning against.

You took this moment to observe the Vipers. You've always had the displeasure of seeing the odd one or two while you were out doing your runs, but this is the first time you've seen the entire crew together. Your eyes land on a certain member. Percy. The only one that had a leader patch on the right sleeve of his jacket, an absurd attempt to assert dominance. You laugh at how lame this guy is. Anton exudes leader, he didn't need a patch on his sleeve reminding everyone he is one.

As you continue making your observations about the Vipers, from the corner of your eye, you noticed movement—someone else seeking the same kind of quiet as you. You glanced over, and there she was, leaning against the opposite side of the same pillar as you. The roar of engines and the blaring music made it easy to miss each other until now.

She was alone, her red jacket slung casually over her arm, a cigarette between her fingers. The contrast of her dark hair against the dim lighting made her stand out even more, and for a moment, she hadn't noticed you.

You tried not to stare, but there was something magnetic about her presence—like the calm before a storm. She flicked her eyes in your direction and froze, her gaze locking onto yours as if she wasn't expecting company either.

She glanced up at the black jacket draped over your shoulder, then at her own red one, casually slung over her arm. With a raised eyebrow and a playful smirk, she broke the silence.

"Guess neither of us is feeling the uniform tonight, huh?" she said, flicking ash from her cigarette, her voice low and surprisingly soft.

Of course her voice had to be the sexiest thing you've ever heard. You remained silent, not because you wanted to, but you didn't know how to respond. This is the first time you've ever spoken to a Viper—a hot Viper at that. You didn't know how to interact with a pretty girl, let alone someone who should be your sworn rival.

"Didn't think anyone else would find this spot," she sighs, not sure if she was saying it to you or outloud to herself.

You pushed off the pillar slightly, offering a small shrug. "Needed a breather."

She smirked, exhaling smoke slowly. "Yeah? Thought you Sinners thrived on chaos."

You glanced at the jacket hanging over your shoulder, then back at her. "Guess I'm not like the others." You weren't going to explain to a stranger that you technically aren't a Sinner but you also are.

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Clearly." There was a pause, then she gave you a once-over, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "So, what's a Sinner doing hiding out here, away from the action?"

You crossed your arms, feeling the pull of the conversation. "Could ask you the same thing. Vipers don't usually stray from their pack."

She let out a soft laugh, the sound almost lost in the night air. "Maybe I needed a break from all the posturing. You know how it is."

Posturing. What an interesting way to put it you thought to yourself. She wasn't wrong,  but it was an oddly honest thing to bring up barely thirty seconds into the conversation. As intrigued as you are, you're also cautious.

You glanced her over in return, taking in her outfit—black combat boots, short black shorts, and a plain white tee, almost identical to the one you were wearing. It was shocking to see a girl from Summer Valley dressed so simply. But the simplicity suited her. She didn't need to be extravagant to stand out, if it wasn't for the jacket on her arm, you would've totally mistaken her for a flag girl, the ones who countdown the race. You've always heard that they're the most beautiful girls on the track, but clearly it wasn't the case tonight.

Your eyes met again, and something unspoken hung in the air between you. Two people from rival crews, both stepping away from the world that defined them.

She held your gaze. You didn't know what it was behind those intense brown eyes. Hatred, curiosity, attraction, a cry for help? You couldn't tell, but you also didn't want to define it. Defining it may mean having to look away. And you didn't want that.  Maybe she didn't either, you doubt she would force herself to stay here with you if she didn't want to.

The universe however, had other plans. The voice of one of the flag girls crackled through the megaphone, cutting through the tension. "The big day is finally here!" The rest of her corny speech faded into the background as your focus remained on the girl in front of you.  She tore her eyes from yours, sighed, and glanced back at her club.

"I have to go.  See you around, Greaser."

"Greaser?" you echoed, raising a brow.

She smirked, giving you a slow, deliberate once-over before turning away.

As much as you wanted to watch her walk away, curiosity tugged at you, pulling your gaze down.  You glanced at yourself and chuckled softly—faded blue jeans, white tee, and a black leather jacket.  Yeah, you did kind of look like a greaser tonight.

But then you saw it.  A grease stain on your shirt.  You chuckled softly. So that's why.

You decided it was time to head back to your group. You return a bit more upbeat than when you'd left. As you approached, you noticed Anton climbing into the car you'd been working on earlier with the crew gathered around, wishing him luck before the race. That's when he spotted you at the edge of the crowd and waved you over. The group parted, and soon you were standing face to face with Anton.

"You look happy. Having fun?" he shouted over the roar of his engine and Percy's nearby.

"It's been pretty cool," you replied with a shrug, nodding along—though it wasn't the race itself you were enjoying, but who it had brought here.

Anton hummed in approval before dapping you up and pulling you into a quick hug. "I'll see you in a bit," he grinned, hyping up his team one last time before sliding into the driver's seat, Mason settling into the passenger side.

As Anton shut his door, your eyes drifted to the car next to his. You watched Percy with his crew, their energy almost a mirror of your own. But then you saw something that left you utterly confused.

The mystery girl. She was on her tiptoes, arms wrapped around Percy's neck in a hug that felt way too intimate for your liking.

Is she his girl?  Disgusting. More thoughts crept in, but you quickly shut it down. She was a Viper, and you'd only talked to her for ten minutes. You didn't get to feel some type of way about it. She was just...intriguing. Nothing more.

You shook your head, trying to dispel the thoughts. Focus on the race, focus on Anton. You told yourself.

You take a step back and settle in a spot between Madison and Hunter as the flag girls strutted to the front of the starting line, their boots clicking against the asphalt. One girl raised a checkered flag high, her red lips curled into a seductive smile as she glanced at both drivers. The other girl held the megaphone to her lips.

"Racers, are you ready?!" Her voice echoed across the lot, the engines revving in response.

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!" Time seemed to slow. The crowd held its breath, and for a split second all that existed was the hum of engines, the gleam of metal, and the flashing lights.

Then, with a flick of her wrist, the flag girl swung the checkered flag down, and the cars exploded off the line.

Anton's car launched forward, while Percy's stayed right on his tail, neck and neck. The crowd erupted into cheers, the sheer speed of the cars leaving only a blur of metal behind them as they tore down the street.

With the cars gone you had nothing left to distract you from your thoughts. What were you genuinely doing here, you ask yourself.

Your eyes wandered back to the spot where you had last seen her. That girl—the one who had slipped into your mind with just a few words and a lingering look. Now, with Percy racing down the track, she stood with another Viper. This one was taller, with short hair, and they were both laughing, completely at ease with each other.

You laugh in disbelief shaking your head. This didn't seem like posturing to you, she seemed like she had fit right in. But again you catch yourself thinking, why were you even upset? She never said she hated her crew, she never said anything that implied she was like you, and now you wonder if you interpreted your interaction with her to something you wanted it to be rather than what it actually was.

The thought crept in, unwelcome. Maybe you were projecting your own loneliness, your desire to feel seen, onto someone who didn't even feel the same way. Someone who was just passing time in a moment. She was a Viper, fully a part of this world, while you were just an outsider passing through.

You turned to Madison and Hunter. "I'm gonna grab a drink. You guys want anything?"

They shook their heads, and you made your way to one of the cars stocked with drinks in the trunk. You opted for a soda rather than a beer.

You leaned against the car, slowly sipping your soda and trying to clear your head. The night had taken a strange turn—what started as excitement was now muddy with emotions you weren't sure how to handle. The hum of conversation and the occasional laughter from nearby crews were the only sounds cutting through the noise in your mind.

Then, suddenly, the atmosphere shifted.

It was subtle at first, a ripple of unease passing through the crowd. You heard hushed whispers and saw people glancing toward the far end of the lot. Then, like a wave crashing down, the sound of sirens pierced the night.

"Cops!" someone yelled, and the panic spread like wildfire.

People scrambled in every direction, grabbing their things and sprinting for their cars. Engines roared to life, and tires screeched as racers and spectators alike tried to escape before the police descended on the scene.

You tossed your soda to the ground, adrenaline surging through you as you looked around for Madison and Hunter, but they were already sprinting towards the opposite direction with the rest of the crew. You turned to follow, but something made you stop.

She wasn't moving.

In the chaos, you spotted her standing in the middle of the lot, frozen, her eyes wide but not making any attempt to run.  She wasn't panicked—she looked more...indifferent, like the flashing red and blue lights didn't mean anything to her.

Without thinking, you darted towards her. Your heart pounded in your chest as you weaved through the fleeing crowd, the sound of sirens growing louder by the second. When you reached her, you didn't hesitate—you grabbed her arm and pulled her.

"Come on!" you shouted over the noise, but she barely reacted, her feet stumbling as you dragged her away from the open lot.

You didn't stop until you reached the mouth of a narrow alleyway between two buildings. You pulled her into the shadows, pressing your back against the wall as you caught your breath. She was in front of you, calm in a way that made no sense considering the chaos unfolding behind you.

She gazed at you, a hint of amusement in her eyes as she was catching her breath. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

You shot her a look, exasperated. "You're welcome."

The distant sound of police radios crackled through the air as you both stood in silence, waiting for the madness to pass.

"You really should be more careful," you said, trying to break the silence. "It's not safe out there, especially with the cops around."

She shrugged, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I guess I'm just used to it. But I appreciate the concern."

You couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and curiosity. "So, what do you usually do in moments like this? Just... stand around?"

Her laughter was light, almost melodic. "Well, not exactly. Usually, I'd just blend in and keep my head down. But you've thrown a bit of a wrench in that plan."

"Is that a bad thing?" you asked, intrigued.

"Not necessarily," she replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But it's definitely unexpected."

You took a step closer, feeling the distance between you narrow. "And here I thought I was just being a good Samaritan."

"Good Samaritan, huh?" She raised an eyebrow, playful yet cautious. "Seems like you might be getting in over your head, then."

"Maybe I like the thrill," you shot back, trying to keep the mood light. But beneath the banter, you both knew the stakes were higher than either of you wanted to admit.

"Well, be careful what you wish for," she said softly, her expression shifting momentarily to something more serious. "Not everything is as exciting as it seems."

You paused, trying to decipher her words. There was a depth to her that hinted at more than she was letting on. But before you could ask, she turned her gaze back to the alley,

Your phone suddenly dinged, breaking the tension. You glanced at it and saw a message from Mason.

"Seems like the cops cut the race short. Your crew lives to see another day."

You chuckled, but she didn't respond, just watching you with her doe eyes. You thought about what it would be like to give in.

But just then, the light caught her wrist, glinting off the expensive bracelet she wore.  The sight of it sent a jolt through you—a stark reminder that she was from Summer Valley, a Viper, and probably a handful you couldn't handle.

The realization hit hard, and you felt a rush of uncertainty. She was part of a world you didn't want to dive into, no matter how intriguing she might be.

You decide to walk off, out of the alley.

"Hey! Where are you going?" she called out, jogging to catch up.

"Home. The cops seem to be gone," you replied, keeping your tone light, words short.

The brown-eyed girl looked confused, she thought you were building a connection. Now you were suddenly dismissive, leaving without a word, and you could see her trying to process it.

"...Wait, um..." she stammered, hesitating as if searching for the right words.

You turned back, sensing the moment hanging between you.  You had a feeling you knew what she was going to say, and a knot formed in your stomach.

You took a step back, breaking the spell. "I really should go," you said, your voice firm, not giving her a chance to speak. You turned away, leaving her standing there, a mixture of confusion and disappointment on her face.

With that, you turned and walked deeper into the night. You could feel her watching you, but you kept moving, the weight of your decision heavy in your chest. But telling her your name would mean chaos.

As you navigated the alley, Anton's words echoed in your mind. "Maybe this isn't your thing, and that's fine. But you've got to find what is. What's your purpose, your drive? What makes your heart race? What's worth risking everything for?"

You were sure it wasn't her. As much as you felt a connection, you couldn't get further involved with the race world. She was just a pretty girl you met, and seemed to have some semblance of intellectuality. You know how this ends and its not pretty. You had responsibilities waiting at home—your mom counting on you, the weight of family expectations pressing down like a heavy fog.  You had to figure things out on your own, even if it meant leaving her behind.

You can't just be the calculated person that you are and then immediately start taking risks because your cousin told you to. This was your nature. Careful.

Still, a part of you wondered if the real risk was not in chasing the girl but in denying yourself the chance to discover what could truly make your heart race.

next chapter

[eroscomet]

Make it Right

Chapter one- Love returned

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Pairing: Astrid Deetz x Fem!Ghost!reader

Context: Astrid and you have been dating two years before a tragic accident happened to you, ending your life. She spends a year alone somehow trying to contact you from the living as you're in the afterlife. When finding that all of her attempts are futile, she turned to her mother's ability but was quickly reminded of how her mother "somehow" could never see the people Astrid wished to see the most.

Warnings: Probably bad writing (I'm sorry), Death

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: I'm not so much familiar with tumblr other than reading. I'm not much of a writer either, this would be like the first piece I post ever. I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, I will correct as many as I see. Also, my brain was a bit foggy when remembering the new Beetlejuice Beetlejuice movie so if there's a mistake in that too, I'm sorry. Other than that, I hope you guys enjoy. I have been heavily inspired by many other amazing writers and I hope I really do capture all of the characters as correctly as I can. Also, I'm not expecting this series to blow up, i'll add another chapter if I see many people interact with this one.

╰┈➤Series Masterlist

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Letʼs be honest, Astrids life was definitely not one that usually someone finds themselves in. A ‘psychicʼ mother, who Astrid believes makes things up, an artist grandmother who seems to be an emotional wreck now that her husband is dead, and finally, a father who she no longer has. Astrid couldn't recall the last time her life was stable, from the beginning it had always be something with her family.

Now, with the passing of her grandfather and her mother suddenly marrying her manager who she is blindly following and clearly not seeing how he exploits her. She finds her world completely upside down and the one time she finds someone who makes her feel at least a bit normal, the universe seems to keep taking any form of normalcy from her. Once upon a time, it had been you and Astrid. The one person who kept her head straight as her world span.

Granted, you didn't come from the perfect family either but you always had found a way to excuse their actions despite Astridʼs constant nagging about your family and their almost pertinacious attitudes.

Your mother, a woman who almost seems to so desperately want to fit in with the women of the neighborhood. Your father who loved his image and his family's image. Your older sister who was always trying to somehow one-up you. Your family cared about the big things, you always found yourself content with the small things. You had always excused their behaviors with simple statements like,

“That's just how they are.” or, “No family is perfect.”

Astrid would cave eventually to your excuses but not with good attitude. Now remembering it, it felt like such a close but distant memory. It had only been a year, almost two, of your passing and yet Astrid finds herself dug in a hole the universe seemed to only bury her deeper in. Every memory had been bittersweet. Between every laugh shared, smiling in the middle of kisses, comforting smells theyʼd grow to find solace in, compliments, listening to music together, there had also been disagreements, comforting each other about things that neither of them had caused or been involved in, emotional damage, and trying to balance finding middle ground in each otherʼs crazy lives.

A year.

The thought of it makes Astrid almost wince, thoughts that seemed to be never ending and had loose ends. Why wasn't she there? She had always thought to herself. Why didn't she stop you? Questions to be left unanswered now that you were gone and she had no one to turn to. She had gone to her mother, who she had never believed was a ghost whisperer or paranormal insighter as everyone saw her, practically begging to have her somehow see you, hear you, feel you. But, like every attempt, they were once again futile.

This had made her more angry with her mother. First, she couldn't see her father and now she can't see you. Why is that every time she needs her mother to see a certain ghost for her, she never can but for others she can? It all felt stupid to her, how could people believe her mother?

Astrid found herself visiting Winter River frequently despite not liking staying with her grandmother and mother, especially when that daft man her mother called a “boyfriend�� was around. She saw right through his act of the ‘caring, loving, and supportive’ boyfriend. Yet, she felt like she was the only one who could see that. How could someone propose to someone on the day of their father's wake?! She disliked the town, even more the people who foolishly believed her mother “abilities” to see paranormal phenomenons.

Yet, there she had spent most of her free time at the town during spring, summer, and winter break. Her relationship with Winter River had always been horrible yet she couldn't bring herself to say that she hated it there. How could she say that when it was this very same town that she had met you?

Standing there once again, in front of a grave that she became all too familiar with. Yours. It was almost comical how your parents had practically milked your death with every ounce they could get from it. Parading around the town, almost as if making it an excuse to gain from. They had quickly became the family in which everyone had gone to support when you had died. People would constantly go to your home, try to show their support, bring gifts even. Your parents loved every second of the attention.

No surprise that your mother had gained popularity among the women of your neighborhood's community. They only pitied her but masked it with sympathy as your mother would say, “She would've loved to be here” whenever someone had invited her to some so-called ‘important’ event among the other dull rich women. Your father had gotten a raise from his job after your death, again, out of pity of the poor family who had lost their ‘precious’ daughter. Your sister had gotten annoyed about how much you had been the focus after your death. She had expect people to move on after months but now seeing that it has been one, almost two, years of your passing and you being the center of attention, it had made her a bit bitter.

As Astrid stood in front of your grave and the flowers that adorned it, a small half-hearted smile on her lips. Many of the times that she had found herself in front of your grave, though she thought that somehow talking to the dead and getting a response back was stupid, she had always found herself talking out-loud to your grave, hoping for a sign or response that never really came.

“I miss you. Iʼm sorry that I havenʼt visited recently. My grandfather passed away, guess heʼd be with you now, right? Sometimes I wonder if youʼre with my dad or talk to him over there. I know if you were to be listening to me, you'd be rubbing it in my face how I always thought these kinds of things were stupid and now iʼm standing here like an idiot talking to myself and expecting a response from you.”

She smiled to herself as she thought about how youʼd tease her for this. She missed the banter between the two of you, her smile somewhat fading at the empty ache in her heart.

“I wish I could say that I hate you for leaving me here by myself, knowing that life is hard. We were supposed to be going through this life together, though. I wonʼt, I canʼt. I love you and my chest is aching every single day at this back and forth in my mind of memories that we should be looking back at together, happily, and now I just get this bittersweet feeling with the horrible reminder of your death. As much as I don't like it or believe it, I wish I had somehow gained this stupid ability my mother thinks she has.”

Astrids voice had faltered as she felt a frown tugging at her lips and her tears begin to faintly blur her vision. She took a deep breath, pulling herself together as she spoke again.

“I just want you to come home. I know that I always thought it was stupid how you had said ʻhome is where the heart isʼ, but truly I had just felt so bashful to think that someone like me could possibly be someone's home. The statement itself, I had always thought was a bit corny. Now, I find myself saying that I want to go home even while being at home. Funny, huh? You were always such a sap..”

With that and a sad smile, Astrid backed away from your grave. A soft sigh escaping her lips as she once again hoped that you had somehow received her words.

━━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━━

Hours later, Astrid found herself, once again, in your room. She sneaks in through the window because she hates the idea of having to knock on the front door and have a conversation with your parents. They had been supportive of your relationship, yes, but like everything else, it was for their own personal gain. They had seen how other families were inclusive so they thought if they were too, theyʼd fit in more. Astrid had already known that they wouldn't dare to go into your room.

Your family had always hated the way that you decorated your room with endless posters, music, records and vinyls here and there, you loved your music. It was drastically differently from your sister and parents which preferred a more elegant and clean look. Thatʼs why whenever there were visitors, theyʼd never introduce your room to them. Yet, it was your safe haven and Astrid knew that.

After your death, she had taken it upon herself to take care of your vinyls, CDʼs, record player, and plants, all taken cared of. She felt that it made her feel like you were still here. As if she was staying in your room while you were out and about in the town. Her imagination took her far when it came to making up excuses for your absence rather than accepting the fact that you were dead.

She hummed to herself as she finished watering the last plant in your room. Once she was finished, she had gone over to your records, flipping through each of them, trying to find a song to play. Thatʼs when she had heard a small noise in the room. It was unusual to say the least, no one had ever dared to come into your room, it was just her. She shrugged it off as nothing or simply a noise coming from your window.

Then again, a small noise. The noise of a shoe squeaking from across the room. Her eyebrows had furrowed before she whipped her head around towards the direction of the noise. Upon landing her eyes on your face. She felt as if she was dreaming but it had startled her so that she felt her vision suddenly blacking out. When falling back, all she could remember was the feeling of someoneʼs cold hands catching her.

When Astrid awoke, she found herself lying on your bed despite having passed out almost across the room near your records. She almost dreaded waking up, she could have sworn she had seen you. Was it a dream? Did she make it up in her head because she missed you so much? Her vision blurred a bit before finally focusing, the feeling of a dip in the bed and a cold hand holding hers had startled her.

Quickly, she had shot up and off of your bed. Her eyes finally landing on you who had also shot up on the other side of the bed when she did.

“Where are we going?-” You had began speaking before you were cut off by Astrids loud exclaim.

“What the fuck!”

Your eyes scanned the room, your eyebrows furrowed as you turned around to see if there had been anyone behind you which earned a scoff from the other girl.

“Wait, you can see me now?” You asked as your eyebrows raised and your eyes returned to Astrid across the bed.

“Can I see you? Yeah, the better question is can I believe it? Is this another dream?” Astrid climbed over the bed and flung herself onto you. She clung onto your, now, cold body, that hadnʼt bothered her right now.

“What's the matter? You look like youʼve seen a ghost.” Your arms wrapped around the girl almost protectively, a soft laugh escaping you.

“Not funny.” Her words were flat, but a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She almost didnʼt know what to say as she stared at you. She had dreamed of you before, sure, but never like this. This felt too real. Your skin was more pale and less live as she had usually dreamed, your body cold, your chest was stilled, as if not taking air in or out. She hadnʼt noticed her bottom lip quivering or the tears in the corner of her eyes that had began to form.

“Hey, hey... Donʼt get all sappy on me now, iʼve been watching you this whole time! I hope you know that I followed you literally everywhere.” Your hands had gone to cup her cheeks, gently wiping away any tears as they fell from Astrid's eyes.

“Youʼd better have.” She had joked which earned another soft laugh from you. The sound of your laugh - so familiar - seemed to set her off. Her arms tightened around your shoulders as all of the feelings she bottled up over the past few months seemed to just burst out of her.

“I literally watched over you for a whole year. Trust me, I heard every word you were saying to the sky or my grave, hoping I was near to hear you. I was and I canʼt believe you've gotten all sappy, Deetz. You always told me that I was the sap and there you were spilling your guts and hoping my ghost was near.” One of her hands unconsciously moving from her cheek to her back, gently rubbing it.

“They were never one-sided conversations, I was always replying you just couldnʼt hear or see me. I did have some one-sided conversations, though. Like when youʼd be listening to my music or watching a movie and laying on my bed, moping, Iʼd be laid next to you and talk to you. I was always geeking out anyway, you know how I am about my passions.” You added and a snort escaped Astrid.

Her grip on you seemed to tighten as your voice registered in her ears. You were here, you were real.

“I know I sounded like an absolute idiot - I sounded like a broken record begging for you.” Her voice said as she buried her face into your shoulder.

“Come on, I never really left your side, Astrid. I was just hoping the entire time that what you had said about your momʼs ability being fake was real and that you'd somehow gain her ghost whispering abilities. I just wanted you to see me, hear me, feel me. Iʼve been so lonely. Sure, I hang out and laugh with you all the time but I missed actually talking to you and you bantering with me.” A frown tugged at your lips involuntarily.

“You didnʼt sound like a broken record. every word youʼd hope I had heard was beautiful - sappy - but beautiful. Gosh, you donʼt know how horrible it has been watching you cry about me and not being able to do anything about it. My ghosted body was always reaching for you but you wouldn't feel a thing. I promise you, I always held you and trying to do anything I can to get you to seem me but nothing was working.” You added as you buried your face into her shoulder, trying to get impossibly closer to her.

“Iʼm not a ghost whisperer. Don't think youʼre on the loose. I am mad at you, for the record.” Her hands balling the fabric of your shirt between her fist. She inhaled and exhaled deeply - as if your presence was the only thing keeping her grounded at the moment.

“I know, I know. I promise to make it up for the rest of my afterlife. Though, you gotta to admit, you have to believe your momʼs abilities now that you can see me. I know you said you hated the attention that your mom receives for being... Well, her. But they weren't fake after all!” You shook your head with a small laugh.

“Ghost whisperer.” You mumbled with a small smile, her hand immediately smacking you in the back of the head. Which had earned a small, ʻowʼ, from you.

“I donʼt-” She had began saying before her protest had been interrupted by a shuddering breath and a few silent tears falling from her eyes as she held onto tightly.

“I donʼt hate them.” She mumbled before sighing.

“I just-” Again, cutting herself off with a scoff. She wiped her tears as she pulled away from your embrace to scan your face with a soft smile.

“Gosh, I canʼt even remember what I was about to say. Iʼm so happy to see you and i'm a bumbling idiot and-”

“Iʼm so sorry. I've been trying everything, I swear. I even read that stupid ʻHandbook for the Recently Deceasedʼ from cover to cover many times. Only the strange and unusual could ever see me and I tried to reach for your mom but I couldn't for some reason. Slow down, we have so much to talk about.” You said as a frown tugged at your lips again. If you had a beating heart, it would have ached at Astridʼs tears. All you could find yourself doing was trying to make up for the lost time of not being able to comfort her.

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

A/N: Hey, guys! I hope you enjoyed it. Should I continue writing this story? There could be multiple parts to this if you guys do enjoy this! Thank you so much for reading! Reqs and or comments, even questions, are all open on my profile! Thank you again! Also, I'd like to add that I understand that in the movie, ghosts are not permitted to leave their area of death or change their clothes. But, for the sake of this fic, let's pretend!

[fanficlolsblog]

MY MAIN MASTERLIST

(i write for mainly gxg sorry. i also take requests so let me know if you want anything written.)

female celebrities!

taylor swift

HEADCANONS! here

drunk (non smut version)

summary: you're drunk and your girlfriend, taylor wants to take you home, which you try to resist.

casual (REWRITING!)

summary:

good luck, babe

summary: Y/N is in a complicated relationship with taylor swift, where she wants more than just fun, but taylor isn't ready to commit. after a tough conversation, Y/N decides to end things, realizing they deserve more than casual affection. though it hurts, Y/N feels a sense of freedom and relief after walking away.

the fan

summary: y/n, a dedicated swiftie, runs a popular social media account showcasing her edits and paintings of taylor swift. after being noticed by taylor nation, she’s invited to the eras tour. throughout the concert, y/n repeatedly catches taylor’s eye, leaving her flustered. backstage, taylor compliments y/n’s art and admits she couldn’t stop looking at her during the show. as y/n leaves, taylor runs after her to ask for her phone number, making the night even more surreal.

we don’t talk anymore

summary: falling in love with taylor swift felt like a whirlwind, but when the pressure of fame and her struggle with coming out grew too much, you broke up. as she tried to move on with travis kelce, you both admitted to missing each other, but her jealousy over your friendship with shawn mendes created tension. despite the distance, you both realized that your love story wasn’t over and that there was still hope for a future together.

all too well

summary:

i miss you, i’m sorry

summary:

loathe you

summary:

dress

summary:

all i want for christmas is you (WRITING!)

summary:

jenna ortega

HEADCANONS! here

the co-star

summary: on the set of wednesday, Y/N and jenna ortega, who have an on-screen romance, face tension due to jenna's aversion to Y/N. during a heated kiss scene, jenna’s unexpected passion creates an awkward situation, leading her to avoid Y/N for the rest of the day. Y/N is left embarrassed and uncertain about their strained relationship.

the co-star part 2

summary: the day after a tense kiss scene, Y/N and jenna ortega face awkwardness on set. jenna's avoidance creates discomfort, but a heartfelt conversation helps clarify the situation. jenna reveals she's dealing with personal issues, easing the tension and allowing them to start rebuilding their professional rapport.

yandere!unhealthy obsession (WRITING!)

summary: after a brief encounter with jenna ortega at a meet-and-greet, y/n is surprised to receive a follow request and a message from her. what starts as a seemingly innocent exchange soon spirals into a possessive obsession, with jenna constantly messaging, showing up unannounced, and isolating y/n from friends. as y/n tries to distance themselves, jenna’s behavior grows darker, her obsession tightening like a trap, until y/n realizes that escaping her hold might be impossible.

coachella

summary:

we fight, we break up, we kiss, we make up (WRITING!)

summary:

flawless

summary:

it’s always been you

summary:

strangers

summary:

watching horror movies

summary:

billie eilish

HEADCANONS! here

guess?

summary:

i could eat that girl for lunch

summary:

wasn’t it obvious?

summary:

boyfriend

summary:

lana del rey

HEADCANONS! here

cinnamon girl

summary:

flirt

summary:

will you still love me?

summary:

kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor

summary:

gracie abrams

HEADCANONS! here

i love you, i’m sorry

summary:

us

summary:

sabrina carpenter

HEADCANONS! here

taste

summary: your favourite artist, sabrina carpenter asks you to be in her new music video, ‘taste’, which of course you couldn’t refuse…

it’s not christmas without you

summary:

red wine supernova

summary:

we never go out of style

summary: y/n is caught in a complicated relationship with singer sabrina carpenter, who picks her up for a late-night drive. despite knowing their connection often leads to heartbreak, y/n can’t resist sabrina's allure. they share a passionate encounter, but y/n realizes they're stuck in a cycle of returning to each other. after their intense moment, y/n chooses to leave, aware that they will likely reunite again despite the pain.

i’m not perfect (WRITING!)

summary: y/n develops an intense obsession with singer sabrina carpenter, feeling both admiration and jealousy. after meeting her at a performance, y/n’s fixation deepens as sabrina acknowledges their presence, making the attraction even harder to ignore. despite sabrina’s kindness, y/n struggles with the emotional pain of unrequited feelings, caught between admiration and the torment of knowing sabrina is out of reach.

demitra kalogera

HEADCANONS! here

sunday kalogera

HEADCANONS! here

jennifer lawernce

HEADCANONS! here

just good friends

summary:

the interviewer

summary:

coffee?

summary:

emma roberts

HEADCANONS!

the babysitter (WRITING!)

summary: Y/N, a 19-year-old college student, gets a job babysitting actress Emma Roberts’ 4-year-old son, Rhodes. As Y/N cares for him, she starts to feel a growing tension between her and Emma. They share small, intense moments, and Emma admits that Y/N feels “different” to her. Though their conversation is interrupted, the unspoken attraction between them is clear, leaving things unresolved.

never too old

summary:

male celebrities!

timothee chalamet

HEADCANONS! here

no strings attached

summary:

i hate you

summary:

matt sturniolo

HEADCANONS! here

again

summary: you and matt have been so called 'friends' for years even though there is something clearly there. matt is sick of being just friends and decides to do something about it…

teachers pet (REWRITING!)

summary: on the first day of school, Y/N encounters Mr. Sturniolo, a young, charismatic new english teacher who draws her attention with his engaging manner and attractive appearance. during a private discussion after class, his intense concern and personal focus create an underlying tension, leaving Y/N both intrigued and unsettled about their evolving relationship.

sick

summary:

the grudge

summary:

cardigan

summary:

chris sturniolo

HEADCANONS! here

idfc

summary: y/n is stuck in a toxic relationship with chris sturniolo, who often disappears and returns drunk. despite knowing he's not truthful or committed, y/n can’t let go. one night, after he comes back, they share an intimate moment, and she asks him to lie and say he loves her, even though she knows it’s fake. unable to break free from her feelings, y/n accepts the lies for the fleeting comfort they bring.

frat boy

summary:

i trusted you

summary:

invisible string

summary:

characters!

wednesday addams

HEADCANONS! here

just a little bite

summary: Y/N, a vampire, returns to wednesday addams' dorm after a day out, sensing her girlfriend's hidden frustration at being apart. as Y/N teases wednesday about her vampire nature, they share playful intimacy through biting. their connection deepens, revealing Wednesday’s vulnerability and desire, ultimately strengthening their bond in the shadows.

smoking

summary: you and wednesday addams, your stoic roommate, share an unspoken romantic tension. one night, she catches you smoking and warns you about the dangers, impulsively throwing your last cigarette out the window. angry, you confront her, but the confrontation reveals deeper feelings between you two, culminating in a tentative kiss that changes everything.

jealous girl (WRITING!)

summary:

mine

summary:

i despise you

summary:

the perfect girl

summary:

ethan landry

HEADCANONS! here

i did this for you, for us (WRITING!)

summary:

that boy is a monster

summary: y/n becomes dangerously infatuated with ethan landry, who hides a dark, monstrous side behind his charm. despite knowing he’s dangerous, y/n can’t resist the pull of his intense gaze and possessive nature. as ethan slowly consumes y/n’s heart and soul, y/n falls deeper into the twisted relationship, unable to escape the hold he has over them. in the end, y/n willingly lets ethan devour their heart, accepting the monster he truly is.

boyfriend

summary:

nerd

summary:

yknow i’ve always had a thing for you

summary:

kiss me

summary:

you belong to me

summary:

jill roberts

HEADCANONS! here

come here dressed in black

summary: Y/N discovers that her girlfriend, jill roberts, is ghostface. despite the horrifying truth, Y/N feels a strong attraction to jill, especially when she reveals herself in the ghostface costume. caught between fear and desire, Y/N struggles to leave the dangerous relationship, unable to resist jill's dark allure.

i won’t hurt you

summary:

you’re mine

summary:

can’t even

summary:

ghostface

HEADCANONS! here

pretty girl (WRITING!)

summary:

billy loomis

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

stu macher

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

tara carpenter

HEADCANONS!

caught

summary:

let’s ruin the friendship (WRITING!)

summary:

the roommate

summary:

my axe (WRITING!)

summary:

vada cavell

secret

summary:

astrid deetz

just friends

summary: you find yourself caught in a complicated relationship with astrid deetz, who is spending time with another guy named jeremy. as you navigate your feelings of jealousy and confusion, you confront astrid about her intentions, leading to an emotional struggle between love and heartbreak. despite your desire to be together, it becomes clear that the timing may not be right, leaving you to question what you truly mean to each other.

do i wanna know?

summary:

jackie taylor

HEADCANONS!

am i making you feel sick?

summary: y/n alone in the wilderness, applies lipstick to jackie's lifeless body and is visited by jackie's ghost. jackie hints that your true hunger is for her, not just for food. as jackie's spirit fades, y/n is overwhelmed by the realisation of jackie's death and her own deep grief.

katniss everdeen

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

finnick odair

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

tori vega

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

jade west

HEADCANONS!

leaving tonight

summary:

quinn fabray

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

rafe cameron

HEADCANONS!

ruin the friendship

summary:

max mayfield

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

eleven

HEADCANONS!

first kiss (WRITING!)

summary:

tate langdon

nothing yet…

madison montgomery

i insist

summary:

living dead girl

summary:

brooke thompson

nothing yet…

lee (bones and all)

nothing yet…

michael myers

sick love story

summary:

chop, chop, slide

summary:

leon kennedy

nothing yet…

bela dimitrescu

nothing yet…

lara croft

nothing yet…

rick grimes

nothing yet…

daryl dixon

nothing yet…

vanessa afton

nothing yet…

pyramid head

nothing yet…

[writingsfrombeyondthegrave]

Helloooo there!

Just wanted to say that I absolutely loved the Astrid x ghost!reader fic and was wondering if you were considering doing a part two?? maybe Astrid finds a way to save them and they end up dating or something?

I hope you Have a lovely day! Xx

An Accidental Haunting Part 2

Astrid Deetz x Ghost!Reader

*Platonic to Romantic*

Requested by anon

Summary- Now that Astrid could see you clearly, an unlikely friendship formed. She wanted nothing more than to be with you now that you two had gotten the chance to spend more time together. She would find a way for you two to be a couple. A proper living couple.

Warnings- Reader was m*rdered, Details about death and the afterlife, angst, depression, mention of cancer, trading one life for another, kissing

The afterlife is a complex thing than many humans never truly understand. Ghosts, often thought of as a figment of the imagination or a misguided illusion of the light, were more real than Astrid had ever anticipated.

Admitting her mother wasn't crazy was a big step in her life. Not to mention the fact that she was gaining feelings for a ghost, this time while knowing about the fact you were deceased. Your morbid humor, self-deprecating jokes and obscene amount of knowledge on the paranormal had a death grip on her heart.

Death was much more interesting with Astrid in your life. You didn't feel the dread or crushing depression as much as before. Sometimes you dare say, you felt more alive than you had when you were actually living.

Lydia had decided to move back into the old "Ghost House" after Astrid had begged her, claiming that she would even consider going to Miss Shannon's School for Girls until graduation. It was only one year away, but she had been adamant about it.

In the end, it happened to be a convenient idea. Lydia's Tv show career had ended and she opted to be an in-area Psychic for those in need. Somehow, however with your meticulous hiding, she never once saw you in the house. You have been very deliberate about keeping your identity there a secret between only you and Astrid.

"I hate to say it, but that uniform is lame" You spoke as you laid back on her bed with a teasing smirk, head tilted in her direction as she tried on the uniform, smoothing down the skirt.

She turned to you and raised an eyebrow, challenging you. "At least I don't have an old rock shirt than looks like you scraped it off of an 80s arcade floor."

"Ha. Ha." you laughed emotionlessly, tossing a stuffed bear at her to defend your honor. "Arcades are fun, but nice try at trying to offend me beautiful"

The smirk that remained on your lips made her heart skip a beat, but she would rather die than tell you how much power you held over her. Your nonchalant flirting always hurt, knowing it never held much meaning behind your words, but she continued to ignore it in favor of her sanity.

"Tell me again" Astrid said as she sat beside you on the bed, making the mattress bounce lightly. "What's it like to die?"

The quietness between you both stretched for a moment before you answered. "It's different for everyone. For some its peaceful, for some its painful."

"I meant for you personally, what was it like?"

Your amused laugh echoed through her room. "What was it like to be stabbed brutally to death? Just a normal Tuesday, of course"

No matter how many times you talked to her about the afterlife, you were always careful to leave out the specifics of your own death. The last thing you ever wanted from anyone was sympathy, especially from her. Sadness should never be an emotion she felt when you were around. So, you opted to made jokes and avoided those awkward looming moments of despair and helplessness.

Instead of laughing, she seemed to be deep in thought. "What if there was a way to bring you back?" She spoke so soft that you almost missed it, but of course you didn't. Instantly you sat up on her bed and faced her properly, startling her a bit at your sudden movement.

"Are you crazy? You of all people should know that's a terrible idea, Astrid. It's a life for a life, a crazy scheme that only the self-centered scumbags would pull"

"I know... I know. But you didn't deserve to die"

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "You don't know that. you don't know me! I'm a freak, Astrid! Thats why I'm dead, no one wanted to talk to me. Everyone feared me because the only people who understood me were already dead!" The screams you sent her way felt like daggers piercing her skin. There hadn't been a single moment up until now that you had acted any other way besides happy.

Without warning you vanished from sight, completely dematerializing Infront of her eyes. She stared in shock at the wall Infront of her, not knowing how to react.

All of a sudden it hit her, you needed her help to come back alive and she would do anything in her power to help you, even if that meant seeking out her mother for guidance.

The instant regret you felt after yelling at Astrid was eating at you from the inside out. Your knees were pulled up to your chest while you sat in a rickety old rocking chair. You looked over at the town model in the attic to distract yourself from falling even further into the darkness.

What you never mentioned to any of the spirits you helped, was that the longer the dead lingered on the living plain, the quicker your soul decays. The deceased were to move on after dying, in favor of protecting what mortality they died with. Your soul fades and your own morals that you once valued in life start to get corrupted.

"The Darkness" as you referred to it was the depressive black hole that swallows the last remaining happiness and hope that you hold onto. If you let yourself get sucked into that darkness, you may never find your way out of it again.

That is how some spirits get sucked into a loop, replaying their death and their most horrible moments over and over again until there is nothing left of their soul.

Smiling seemed to be your coping mechanism to avoid this, always happy and never upset over trivial things. Never allowing yourself the simple happiness that the living still enjoyed and took for granted.

Lydia was cooking in the kitchen when she heard rapid footsteps descending down the staircase. Astrid stopped and stood in the doorway, looking at her mother blankly for a moment. She couldn't believe how much progress that they've accomplished, yet she feared the awkward tension would always be there lingering.

"I... I need your help."

Lydia stopped what she was doing to look at her daughter in shock. "You do?" She dried her hands with the kitchen towel and quickly turned her full attention to her. "Of course, what do you need?"

"The handbook. I know you kept the one that the Maitlands had and I need to see it"

"Why would you need that?"

"I'm interested in your work" Astrid lied, forcing a small smile that she hoped was more than convincing. The smile that Lydia provided could've lit up every dark corner in the house.

After moping in your sorrows for the better part of that night, you finally appeared in Astrid's room the next morning, an apology ready on your tongue before you saw what she was doing. She was furiously flipping through The Handbook for the Recently Deceased, writing down notes in an old notebook.

You cautiously stepped up next to her and looked over her shoulder. "What could you possibly need that book for? You're not dead, babe."

She looked up at you, realizing your looming presence near her. The bags under her eyes were the only indicator that you needed to show her lack of sleep. Her body physically relaxed from its tense stance at seeing you back in her room. "I have the perfect plan on how to bring you back to life"

You groaned and flopped down into her beanbag chair dramatically. It seemed like your usual playful behavior was back at least. "Why must the living be so stubborn?"

"We are going on a trip, come on" She closed the book and tossed it in your direction, clearly expecting you to catch it. It hit the wall behind you with a heavy thud, thankfully not indenting it. You slowly turned your head to look at the book and then back to her.

"Did you really expect a different outcome?"

Astrid hugs her bag over her shoulder with the handbook in it, waiting for you to grab ahold of her so she could start her ride to the town's nursing home. After a deep sigh you hook your leg over the seat and wrap your arms around her midsection.

Your touch felt like a winter chill, but her body had never been warmer. Her heart beat quickly and she prayed you couldn't detect it. Your chin rested on her shoulder as you looked around the town.

You never were a very affectionate person in life, but for Astrid, you made an exception. There was no fear in her eyes when she looked at you now, and that made you feel as if you were finally home again.

The ride to the nursing home was quiet and quick. Astrid greeted the staff with a quick smile, claiming to be visiting her grandmother.

An argument soon broke out between the two of you as you crossed your arms, not happy by what she was proposing.

"Ms. Silvers has been in pain for years from the cancer. Death was inevitable anyway so what's the issue? She seems fine with it" She argued, and you just tilted your head, unconvinced. It was silent for a few minutes before you finally nodded your head, not being able to find a good enough argument to disagree with her plan.

Ms. Silvers was a good sport as you all headed to the cemetery together. She was a sweet old lady with a cane who seemed to be admiring the world through aged eyes.

"My husband loved this time of year" She spoke, her voice scratchy. "I just know he's been waiting for me. Thank you for this, Lovey"

Astrid smiled, walking beside her and making sure she was alright. You looked over at them, still cautious about the whole thing. Your entire life, you had never put yourself before anyone. This felt wrong, yet the old woman beside you could've been the strongest woman alive now. She had more courage than you could've imagined and you admired that.

The quiet Winter air blew past them, and she didn't so much as shiver.

After repeating the incantation in the crypt and entering, you decided it was best to lead the way. You had been to this part before when you first died. Youve come a long way and grown as a person since then. The confident look you always wore wavered slightly, but they couldn't see it since you were far ahead.

The picture for the transfer was about to be taken when Ms. Silvers reached over to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Young love is a powerful thing. Take care of each other, alright?"

You couldn't help the smile that overcame your features as you nodded, giving her hand a squeeze in return. "Tell your husband we said hi, would you?"

The transfer went smoothly, and you both walked her to the soul train together. Once inside the train, she sent you both a sweet smile and a wave before she departed.

Your body healed almost instantly; no indications left behind of what had happened to you. Your shirt however, still remained in shambles.

Crawling out of the crypt, you felt as if a rush of air filled your lungs. Your feet met the grass of the graveyard, and the world moved with you instead of without you. It acknowledged your presence and welcomed you with open arms.

You turned to Astrid with a bright smile. "I don't know how to thank you"

"Oh... it was nothing, really." Astrid laughed awkwardly, turning away to avoid your gaze. You looked at her as if she hung the very stars in the sky. The blood flowing through your veins and the shine of your lively skin looked heavenly to her, and she had to stop herself from staring in awe.

Without warning you cupped her face in your hands and kissed her softly, afraid that you might vanish from existence yet again. Her eyes widened in shock before she allowed herself to relax to your touch. Her hands instinctively held your hips, just barely. You pulled away after a moment and rested your forehead against hers.

"Even when I was dead and I couldn't feel anything, I swore I could feel the pounding of my dead heart as if it was beating for you. I'm afraid it will only ever beat for you now that I'm alive again"

She laughed, smiling freely as she looked into your eyes. "Thats the cheesiest thing I've ever heard you say, you dork"

"So, if I asked to kiss you again it wouldn't be as cheesy?" You smirked, and she swore she could get used to this every day for the rest of her life.

Extra:

"Now that your alive, can you finally change that crusty t-shirt?" Astrid teased, holding your hand tightly as you walked back to her house.

You pretended to think about it before laughing "Yes, Ma'am" You winked.

A/N- Thank you lovely anon for requesting a part 2! I have another Astrid fic lined up and, in the works, currently along with the lost boys and others. Please continue to send in requests and I'll get to them as soon as possible. Thank you all for the love on my writing, it means so so much to me.

If there is a possible part 3 wanted it would probably just be filled with little incidents when Astrid now saves the readers life because they forget they’re alive now and could actually get hurt.

If anyone wants to be tagged in any sort of tag list (doesn’t just have to be for Astrid fics), please let me know!

Also, I apologize for the extensive knowledge of the paranormal that I have lol. The afterlife has always fascinated me.

Credits-

Ghost and Graveyard Dividers- @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[rtfics]

Winona Ryder Still Ships Beetlejuice & Lydia, "He's Endgame for Me"

Beetlejuice 2 star Winona Ryder explains why she ships Lydia Deetz and Beetlejuice, nearly 40 years after the original film.

Via ComicBook Movies:

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is already a major cinematic milestone, just for finally giving fans a sequel to Tim Burton's 1988 cult classic. It's even more of a milestone that just about every major star of the original film went on to have a long-lasting career in film and/or television – to the point that almost every surviving member of the original cast was still around to return for the sequel. 

Many things distinguish the original Beetlejuice as a cult film – most of it due to the one-of-a-kind imagination of Tim Burton. That includes a (now-questionable) subplot that saw a psychotic and malevolent ghost (Michael Keaton's Beetlejuice) try and wed an emotionally vulnerable teenage Goth girl Winona Ryder's Lydia Deetz). 

However, when ComicBook sat down to interview the cast of Beetlejuice 2, Winona Ryder explained how real-life times and circumstances influenced the story of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. In that same conversation, she also revealed that she still keeps a flame of hope burning for Lydia and Beetlejuice's relationship, nearly 40 years later: 

"[Tim] he was sort of doing it with everyone, but it very sort of top secret: I would go over to his house and like we would talk, and he'd always say 'Life happens! And you find yourself and you're older...' [It's] sort of I think a lot of what he's [Tim Burton] gone through in his life... And everyone evolves – except for maybe Beetlejuice maybe [laughs]... He's like endgame for me. I totally want them [Beetlejuice and Lydia] to be truly together! It's [makes a gesture indicating "crazy"] I know, but..." 

Only time will tell if Ryder dropped any kind of SPOILER with that statement: The trailers for Beetlejuice 2 have at least hinted that Beetlejuice could be making another play to secure Lydia (or her daughter, Astrid) as his bride. Of course, that won't go over well with Beetlejuice's ex-wife Delores (Monica Bellucci) – but it's not unthinkable that by the end of the film, Lydia may have to finally make the sacrifice she side-stepped in the first film, and actually go through with that ghostly wedding. 

*a HEM*

"He's like endgame for me. I totally want them [Beetlejuice and Lydia] to be truly together!"

Hey, antis! Are you going to go after Winona Ryder now? Are you going to threaten her with rape and doxxing and killing her pets?

The ones who say that if you see a Beetlebabe at the movie theater you'll punch her, are you going to find Winona and hit her?

[moonsceptre]

What is your opinion on the Beetlejuice 2 Dream Theory?

This theory?

My opinion is that it's very likely to be true. I walked away from the cinema extremely happy with all of the shippy moments—so happy I hadn't even considered theorising anything yet, however my first thought about the ending was, So it was all Lydia's dream?

I read through the post and was blown away by how much sense it made, but I think it helped push me to believe it when my friend sent me this

My friend is not interested in theorising or shipping, and has no connection to the BJ fandom, he's just a horror fan. Yet his interpretation of the movie's ending was a summarised version of the whole dream theory. Isn't it far more romantic to imagine Lydia having spent her life with Betelgeuse, and he's indulging her with a dream of her own child? Considering they both have a 'psychic connection', I'm not convinced that Lydia hasn't been thinking about BJ just as much as he's been thinking about her.

This user pointed out both of Betelgeuse's love songs are by artists named Richard, conveniently the name of Lydia's previous partner. The same partner who was described as a horror fan that loved playing pranks, and dressed as a Beetlejuice lookalike for Halloween.

Looks like Beetlejuice, acts like Beetlejuice—either Lydia is equally obsessed, or it's BJ projecting himself onto Lydia's human lover within the dream. Watching the movie with new eyes, I noticed in the "Later, fucker" scene that BJ is sitting in the same place Richard sat while working at the border control. "Astrid" herself has a name related to the celestial bodies, much like "Betelgeuse". You can either take this as a romantic parallel, or Tim is trying to show us that Richard's creation is based on Lydia's fixation with Beetlejuice.

Dream sequences often use characters to represent something within the dreamer's psyche. It's like an abstract analysis of the way that character thinks and feels. Astrid's sequence within the dream shows Lydia's material desires—it confirms everything was based off of what Lydia wanted, which included getting married to a 'monster' (in the sequence of events, Astrid marries a guy dressed as a vampire), and then gives birth to the Beetlebaby. I know in the first movie there is a reference to the horror movie "The Fly", so I imagine this was too.

Did anyone notice the dream sequence watching Astrid didn't actually have a clear indication for when it began? It transitioned from the movie as if everything was a dream right from the start.

Let's not forget BJ straight up looking into the camera and saying "I love a good dream sequence". Lol.

My other reasoning for believing the dream theory is what Winona said about Lydia. Winona and Tim are close friends. Winona pitched the idea of having Betelgeuse and Lydia be the endgame ship in her words, and she happily took part in this movie. If Tim had rejected the idea, why would Winona reprise her role for a story she didn't agree with? Winona knows that Lydia is Tim's self insert (Tim has said many times he relates the most to Lydia), so why would Tim approve of all the shippy moments if he opposed Winona's pitch? No one knows Lydia like him!

Winona said in this interview that she hadn't imagined Lydia ever becoming a mother, but that after a while it started to make sense. She does not elaborate on that, but explains her idea for Lydia was that she would end up a spinster in the attic. If you read the dream theory, it highlights how the movie begins with Lydia in the attic, and then transitions to Lydia's TV show, but the background is still the attic. I found the whole film very dreamlike in this way, and I think the fact that Tim has said Wizard of Oz (a movie where the girl wakes up after a dream, in which those she knew acted as characters within the sequence) is one of his favourite movies helps to put it into effect.

And finally...

It's Lydia Deetz. Lydia loves the strange and unusual.. do you really think she wasn't curious enough to contact Beej again?

[eyecan02]

My Upcoming Beetlebabes Fanfic

Summary: Told in dual time lines. After seeing the new tenants of the old Deetz home being relentlessly haunted with Lydia's name cryptically left on their walls and mirrors, Jane Butterfield enlists Lydia's help in convincing Beetlejuice to leave the home for good.

Upon reuniting with Beetlejuice he presents her with a new contract- one where she will spend one hour sessions with him in his therapy room, and says he will only leave the Deetz home once he finds a loophole in resurrecting in a way that doesn't involve marriage. In the present, Lydia is gone and a human Beetlejuice is scouring the country with Astrid in hopes of a lead in Lydia's whereabouts.

I'm very excited about this passion project I'm working on. I rewrote my initial fanfic so that I could write this instead. The idea was born from the most beautiful ending I could've ever imagined for Beetlejuice and Lydia.

From there, a roadtrip plot line developed, and I just liked the idea of human!Beetlejuice and Astrid on the road together getting on each other's nerves, getting into hijinks and bonding as they work toward the same goal- getting Lydia back.

The road trip part is more of a secondary storyline happening in the present time line. The main storyline is in the past so there's plenty of Lydia and Beetlebabes scenes. With each chapter, you'll get closer and closer to discovering how Beetlejuice became human and the mystery behind Lydia's disappearance.

I can't tell you what happened to her, but I can say that there will be plenty of romance, laughs and some tears. It's OK. We'll all cry together. lol Despite that, I can assure you this fic has a very happy ending because this world needs more happy endings.

On a final note, chapter 1 is done. Now half way into chapter 2. Hoping to try to upload at least 2 chapters a week. I think the fic will be 15 or 16 chapters total. Also still not sure what to name this fic.

[herefortheships]

I know I totally just posted about this in another post, but I thought it deserves its own post, since it was at the end and it's a pretty long post.

Here it goes. I am getting a vibe that the WB wants us to see Betelgeuse, Lydia, and Astrid as a family.

Not only are they front and center on the DVD cover, instead of them having something like a big picture of Betelgeuse front and center and the Deetz women next to him or below him, with the rest of the cast around, or something like that; a choice was made to have Betelgeuse, Lydia, and Astrid together front and center, separate from the others, as we've all seen now. Then there is this promotional TikTok they put out, hinting at Lydia and Betelgeuse as part of Astrid's "strange family". Lydia is her mom, but why is Betelgeuse included as a part of her family?

So you see? Maybe it's my shipping goggles, so please don't take this for a fact, but with the talk about Tim Burton having official meetings with the WB about Beetlejuice 3, and now seeing these little details, it kinda makes me go "hmm 👀".

Tell me, do you get this vibe as well or am I imagining things? 😂 I feel like they're leading us to see these three as a family or as a unit. My hope is that they will take Beetlejuice 3 in the direction of establishing them as a family by the end. Of course, it might be wishful thinking. But I have a vibe, ok? A vibe. 👀

Editing to add these links to Beetlejuice merch promoting Betelgeuse as a stepdad and the trio together. That one also has Bob though, but the fact that it’s referring to them as a trio is what caught my attention. Putting up the links from Hot Topic, but other stores have the same designs since these seem to be officially approved designs to be on BJBJ merch. ✨

[fandomnerd9602]

Astrid: hey nerd

Y/N: m-me?

Astrid: I like you…would you be interested in seeing a movie with me?

Y/N: y-yeah. I’d like that.

Astrid: cool

Astrid walks off all calm…

Inside she’s completely giddy…

[royalwhumpness]

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice - Reimagined [Fanfic]

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice didn’t quite live up to my expectations. I was disappointed by some of the creative choices, particularly in how certain characters were portrayed and the story direction. This fic is my re-imagining of the movie, reflecting how I feel the characters and story could have been better developed. ’ve removed the fiancée/manager character entirely. I found him unnecessary, and his execution felt lacking. The overuse of mental health terms to villainize him and, by extension, the mental health movement, struck me as lazy and problematic. While his manipulative nature was meant to control Lydia, there was no positive representation to counterbalance his portrayal, leaving the audience with little context for his misuse. Instead, these issues were treated as punchlines, which, in my opinion, trivialized the subject matter. In my version, Betelgeuse’s ex is introduced more subtly, with hints of her greater role as the main antagonist in a potential third installment: Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetljuice. Her character was completely underutilized in the film, and I felt she was given one of the most anticlimactic ends for any villain. Bob is not in this story. I’ve slightly re-imagined the detective, a character with a lot of untapped potential. On the other hand, Jeremy was the standout character for me and should have been the central antagonist. I’ve developed his relationship with Astrid more deeply, creating a stronger emotional impact leading up to his betrayal. Astrid, in my version, is a more realistic teenager—not the stereotypical brat she was in the movie. She and Lydia have a complex relationship, which, while strained, is more balanced. (Let’s not forget that Lydia herself was once a moody, gothic teen. She had personality, moped around, and resented her stepmother, but her characterization felt more nuanced and authentic than Astrid’s does here.) I was also disappointed by Delia’s treatment in the sequel—she felt like a mere caricature of her original self, and I believe she deserved much more. As for Betelgeuse, he went from being an outcast in the first film—someone you were warned against—to having an office and a legitimate business? That felt completely out of place. Much like Delia, he seemed like a caricature of his former self, and he’s significantly overpowered in this version. I’ve returned him to the chaotic, outcast anti-hero we all know. If you enjoyed the movie, that’s great—everyone has different tastes, and I respect that. But I hope you’ll give this version a chance and maybe find something to enjoy here too. If, like me, you were left wanting more from the sequel, perhaps this re-imagining will help scratch that itch. It’s been a cathartic project for me, and I hope you enjoy the read.

You can visit my AO3 if you'd like instead of reading here! Kudos would be much appreciated <3

PART ONE

“I can’t believe he survived that crash,” Lydia said, kneeling beside Delia and her daughter Astrid in front of her father’s gravestone. His likeness was etched into a chunk of stone shaped like a shark’s fin. Under the portrait, the inscription read:

Charles Deetz Husband, Father, Grandfather Peace Embraces the Dead Ones 1946-2024.

“Yes, well, I can’t believe that dreadful shark has his head in its belly.” Delia replied wryly, dabbing her eyes with a black handkerchief.

Silence hung in the air until Delia broke it with a sharp, ill-timed squawk: “Welp!” She slapped her knees and stood up abruptly. “Time to sell the house.” Lydia’s mouth fell open as Delia walked away, and after a brief moment of shock, she scrambled to chase after her. “Sell? Wha-why? You can’t, I-“ Lydia stammered. Delia silenced her with a raised, gloved hand. “Lydia, I’ve tried dressing this house in as much metaphorical gold as possible, but it’s still painfully clear that it is shit.” She lowered her hand, “I only stayed because your father loved it, but now I can finally rid myself of its stench. Not to mention that it is now an ugly reminder that my husband is no longer here.” With that, she stormed off, leaving Lydia frozen, watching her retreat. Every fragment of her life she held dear seemed to slip through her fingers, and with each heartbreak, the weight of grief grew heavier. She started bracing herself beneath the looming shadow of yet another impending loss.

Astrid came to stand beside her mom, gently placing a hand on her arm. Lydia glanced down at her daughter, and for a moment, she marveled at the beauty she had brought into the world. She saw herself in Astrid’s smile, but her inky black eyes, high and rounded cheekbones, and even her cute, small ears were all her father’s. At 15, Astrid had endured more than her fair share of losses. For years now, it had been just her and Lydia. Before she turned four, her grandparents had been a constant presence, always nearby. Then one day, with arms full of suitcases, they drove off, their car shrinking into the bright summer horizon. Only her grandfather reappeared from time to time, sitting with her to watch the birds while her mother tended to grieving clients. And instead of growing up surrounded by the warm, steadfast presence of her father, Astrid and Lydia had to confront his absence, mourning him when she was barely seven. Lydia placed her hand gently over Astrid’s. “I’m not going to let her sell the house.” Astrid remained silent, but she didn’t need to say anything. Astrid had never shown any affection for the house or its bygone charm. She had never known its vibrant, ghost-filled days. The town was small, and Astrid had eagerly accepted the chance to go to boarding school when she started her freshman year. To Astrid, this place, steeped in Lydia’s memories, was just a house. Instead, Astrid extended a soft, comforting smile before quietly following Delia’s path.

A little while later, Lydia found Delia in Charles’ office, researching how to list the house for sale and how soon after a death it could be done. “Delia, you don’t even live here anymore. I live here, and Astrid lives here. Doesn’t that mean something?” Without looking up from her screen, Delia replied, “You live here. Astrid goes to boarding school.” Lydia just stared. Where there should have been a beating, pulsing red glob of muscle in Delia’s chest, Lydia saw a yawning, gaping void. She watched as it seemed to draw in and distort the light around it, bending and warping everything towards its dark, insatiable center. Noticing the silence, Delia looked up. “Why are you so determined to stay? The Maitlands have moved on, Astrid is rarely home, and your ex-husband and father are both gone. I don’t see-“ She paused, her gaze meeting Lydia’s. The expression on Lydia’s face made her feel foolish. “I’m making an ass of myself, aren’t I?” Lydia responded with a slow, exaggerated nod, her eyes widening and lips pursed as if to underscore the obviousness of the answer. “I have a business here,” Lydia said quietly, “and memories.” Delia’s face softened. Lydia could see that her usual scowl had melted into something of a motherly expression of genuine compassion and sympathy. “Oh, Lydia.” She rose from her chair and approached her, reaching out to gently touch her face. “We’ve never really gotten along, have we? But you’re still my daughter, and we only have each other now.” “Then why are you uprooting my whole life right now?” Delia had no answer. She hadn’t lived in the house for over a decade. She and Charles had bought a condo in New York, allowing her to pursue her artistic endeavors and escape the ghost house. Charles would often travel back and forth, spending months at a time with Lydia and Astrid to indulge in his seasonal bird watching hobby. Meanwhile, Lydia remained behind, raising Astrid, supporting the house with her psychic business, and keeping Charles company during his visits.

“Alright,” Delia began, “I’m going to wait. But I still intend to sell the house.” Lydia started to interrupt, but Delia raised the same gloved hand to silence her. “I’m going to sell it eventually. But I’m not doing this out of spite. I want you to have the chance to move on, Lydia. I’m giving you a year.” Lydia sighed, lowering her gaze. A year might as well have been next week. The pause stretched long. An overwhelming urge to argue or plead spread through her bones and soaked into her throat, but she swallowed it down, managing a quiet, “Thank you,” paired with a soft, sullen smile. Delia’s expression brightened, and she gave Lydia’s nose a playful boop before leaving the office.

Astrid found her mom sulking on the couch, playing with her wedding ring. “You haven’t worn that in forever,” she said, sitting beside her and resting her head on her shoulder. Lydia returned the gesture, gently resting her own head on Astrid’s. She showed Astrid the ring and the inscription inside: ‘I will be with you, always.’ “Why can’t you see him, Mom?” Astrid asked softly. “I wish I knew, Astrid. Why can’t you?” Astrid lifted her head abruptly and shifted towards the edge of the couch, as if preparing to leave. Lydia, sensing Astrid’s frustration, said, “You can see them.” “So you say, but I have never seen one.” “You saw one when…“ “That I remember,” Astrid interrupted, cutting Lydia off before she could remind her, yet again, of the ghost she saw when she was four. It had been just over ten years since then, and she hadn’t seen one since.

“I’m going to ride my bike around town. I’ll see you later.” Astrid said. Lydia reached out to lovingly rub Astrid’s back before she left. “Okay. Be safe.” Astrid gave a slight smile and stood up. She often felt frustrated whenever her mom brought up her ability, or inability, to see ghosts. Thoughts swirled in her mind: Why can’t I see them? Am I not good enough? Are they even real? Would my mom really lie about something like this? She found it best to distance herself in these moments to avoid lashing out at her.

It had happened once before. Lydia was attempting to teach Astrid how to see ghosts, despite not fully understanding her own abilities. Frustrated by her failures regardless of her mother’s guidance, Astrid snapped. She accused her mother of being a fraud, claiming her psychic abilities were fake and that her business cheated clients out of their money. Astrid instantly regretted her harsh words. Though she didn’t see her mother’s reaction, she sensed it— the subtle shift—and prepared herself for what felt like the beginning of a strained relationship. It became routine then that at the first sign of rising anger or frustration, Astrid would remove herself from the situation to avoid confronting it altogether.

Astrid walked out the front door without a backward glance. Lately, her words had grown fewer, the once-eager stories about her day fading into silence. She barely met Lydia’s eyes anymore, and though small gestures of affection remained, the growing distance was unmistakable. Lydia’s heart ached as she watched her daughter go. Rising from the couch, she looked around the empty house. It was now haunted not by spirits, but by the echoes of a time when it was alive with the Maitlands’ presence and her family’s warm company. Longing to reclaim those cherished moments, she wandered through the house. Her eyes settled on her room, and a deep wave of sentimentality washed over her. An irresistible pull drew her toward the attic, driven by a quiet hope that revisiting the past might help her reconnect with what had been lost.

In her room, Lydia pulled out a small drawer from her jewelry box and carefully took out the old, familiar skeleton key. She smiled at it wistfully before heading for the attic. The stairs were draped in cobwebs and spider silk, hinting at years of neglect. Lydia unlocked the attic door and, after a struggle to unstick it, pushed it open and stepped inside. Waves of familiarity and longing enveloped her. Everything was covered in thick sheets and layers upon layers of dust undisturbed on top. It was clear that neither Lydia nor any other Deetz had ventured into this attic in years. She pulled the sheet off the town model and flicked on the switch. The model illuminated, instantly rekindling its old charm and wonder. Lydia leaned on the table, taking in the intricate details of the small buildings she hadn’t seen since before Astrid was born.

“Oh, I miss you so much,” Lydia said with a sigh. “I wish you had never moved on. We could have stayed a family, even in death.” She spoke aloud with the same reverence and cadence as one might when addressing an unseen deity. Speaking with the departed had always come easily to her—unless they had crossed beyond the reach of the afterlife. At that point, she was merely talking to herself. She knew they couldn’t hear her, but she needed to talk to them anyway. She lowered her head. “Why did you leave me?” She poked absentmindedly at a red toy car in a miniature driveway. “I wish you could have met Astrid. She would have loved you both.” She saw visions of Astrid coming home with her class drawings, eagerly showing them off to the Maitlands. She wanted Astrid to experience the joy she felt when they used their silly ghost powers. “You barely knew Richard before you were given your ticket to the Ethereal Express. Gone forever. And now Richard is gone, too. I can’t even see his spirit. My father is gone, my daughter is unreachable, and Delia is going to sell the house.” Lydia rested her head lightly on the table. She could feel the emotions bubbling up in her eyes, but she wasn’t willing to cry just yet.

She straightened up, sniffling back her tears and swallowing the sob in her throat. She lingered for a moment in silence, watching the dust particles swirl around the model town. Her gaze, initially soft, allowing herself to be at ease watching everything blur, suddenly sharpened. A vivid neon red light flickered on in the model, casting eerie patterns across her face. A soundless gasp escaped her as she saw Betelgeuse’s gravestone had materialized, and above it, a marquee sign surrounded by bulbs flashing in a captivating chase illuminated the words: "I'm still here, Lydia." Panicked, Lydia yanked a sheet over the model, turned off the lights, and rushed out of the attic, locking the door behind her before bolting down the stairs.

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit - pt.iii

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii |

summary: As Jenna becomes more entwined in your life, you find yourself pulled deeper into the high-stakes world of racing—looks like you've got yourself your first race.

word count: 8.4k

————

The garage is usually alive with the hum of engines, the clank of tools, and the scattered voices of the crew. Everyone has their own rhythm here, groups within the crew naturally falling into place as they work on separate projects. But today is different. As soon as you walk in, you notice the shift.

The crew is huddled around Anton who has his phone out, their laughter cutting through the usual noise. You can't see what's on the screen from where you stand, but whatever it is, it's got everyone's attention. Curiosity pulls you in closer, your brow furrowing.

As you approach, Anton's voice carries over the group, smooth and teasing. "And here she is, looking all serious and focused... but wait for it..."

The guys chuckle, and you stop in your tracks, confused. You can't quite make out what's on the screen yet, but the way they're talking—it feels weirdly intimate. You shake your head, taking a few more steps forward, trying to get a look.

Anton continues, now with a mocking tenderness. "Right there! Look at that—I believe that's what we call young love, folks."

The laughter rises again, and something clicks. A sinking feeling erupts in your stomach. Heart racing, you push through the crowd until you finally see the screen. Your heart skips.

It's you. And her. Jenna.

There it is—your encounter in the garage yesterday. The split-second moment when you locked eyes with her, the subtle smirk she flashed your way. The way your hand wrapped over hers as she was holding the wrench. It all plays out on the surveillance screen, frozen in time, but somehow magnified, more intimate than you even remember.

Shit.

"Awh, my little Y/n's all grown up," Anton coos, not missing a beat as he notices you standing there now. His voice is laced with smugness. "Didn't know you had it in you."

You clench your jaw, "Shut up, Anton."

"Oh, come on! It's cute," one of the guys calls out, nudging you as if this whole situation isn't embarrassing. "A girl like that?" another crew member hollers with a whistle. "She's no Brimstoner, that's for sure. Where'd you find her, Y/n?"

As you look around you notice that everyone is looking at you with curiosity. You let out a breath. It seems like no one was able to recognize Jenna from the race. No one knows she's from Summer Valley—that she's a Viper.

"It's not what it looks like," you mumble, trying to sound indifferent.

Anton lets out a low laugh. "Sure it's not. Admit it, you've got yourself a girl now."

The teasing hits deeper than it should, and you feel your heart pounding. They're all grinning, eating this up, but for you, it's just a reminder—you still haven't texted her. Despite knowing your answer, you weren't sure when it was appropriate to text her, it's only been about 12 hours since you dropped the girl off at her home. And you were dreading seeing her again.

"Alright, alright, enough about Y/n's mystery girl. Everyone, get back to work!" Anton says, half-joking but with a playful edge. "I need a word with my cousin."

The rest of the crew grumbles as they scatter, returning to their tasks. Anton slings an arm around your shoulder, guiding you over to the car you'd stolen the night before.

"Market value on this baby is through the roof," he says, his fingers trailing along the sleek metal. "You probably won't need to work for a while after this score."

"Yeah," you reply, your mind already preparing for the real reason Anton pulled you aside.

"So... who's the girl?"

Who is she? The question lingers, heavier than you'd like to admit. What could you even tell him when you didn't fully know yourself?

"She's just someone I met at a pub a while back," you lie smoothly.

Anton clutches his chest dramatically. "You're hitting up pubs without me now? I thought we did everything together!"

"It was after one of my sales," you say, rolling your eyes. "I needed to unwind, grabbed a drink, and met her. Simple as that."

He raises an eyebrow, grinning knowingly. "I've never seen a Brimstoner that looked like that."

"She's not from Brimstone," you say quickly, the words tumbling out. "She's from... Ridgewater."

"Ridgewater, huh?" Anton mutters, as if that explains everything. "So, she your girlfriend?"

The question catches you off guard, heat creeping up your neck and flooding your cheeks. You'd been battling that blush since you stepped into the garage, memories of the night before playing on a loop in your mind. Everything about her made your pulse quicken. The thought of being her girlfriend... it sent a jolt of excitement through you, one you weren't quite ready to face. It was too early to sort out your feelings, but you couldn't deny she was stunning, and the pull between you both was undeniable. The lingering glances, the teasing banter, the subtle touches—there was a chemistry brewing between you two that you couldn't ignore.

"We're just... talking," you reply, though a small part of you wonders why you didn't just say she was a friend. Too late now.

"Anyway, what did you want to talk about?" you ask, eager to change the subject.

"It's actually about your girl's ends," Anton begins, leaning in. "I've got some friends from Ridgewater in town, and they're looking for a friendly race with our club."

You raise a brow, not quite sure why this involved you.

"I, uh, might've mentioned your name for a race against one of their drivers," he admits, mumbling the last part under his breath.

"Anton, what the hell?!" you snap.

"Come on! It's just for fun—one race, no big deal. No stakes. You don't even have to wear a Sinner jacket."

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to keep calm, but you still end up rambling. "Anton, you know how I feel about this stuff. I... I still don't even know what I want. I've never raced before. I'm going to suck."

"You could lose by an hour, and I wouldn't care," he says with a shrug. "I just want you to give it a shot, Y/n. Like I said, no stakes—just a little friendly racing."

You sigh, unsure but softening. "I'll think about it."

Anton nods, clearly taking your indecision as progress. A week ago, you would've shot him down without a second thought. "Race is in a week today, 7 p.m., same spot as last time," he says, already walking off with a wave.

He stops just before he reaches the other end of the garage, turning back with a grin. "Oh, and invite your girl! Bet she'll find it hot!"

And just like that, your cheeks burn again.

You blame your inexperience with girls for how easily your cheeks betray you. It's just embarrassment, that's all. Now, you're apparently faking a relationship and have a race tomorrow. Perfect.

Needing to clear your head, you turn toward your workbench, ready to lose yourself in modifications to the car you'd stolen. But the moment you pick up the wrench, an involuntary smile stretches across your face.

"Oh, you've got it bad," a familiar voice chuckles behind you.

You groan, not again. Bracing yourself for another round of teasing, you turn around only to feel a sense of relief wash over you. It's just Hunter.

Hunter always seemed out of place among the crew. He was too pure to be mixed up in Brimstone—too decent. But everyone had their reasons for being here.

"You're lucky no one recognized her," he whispers, stepping up beside you.

"W-what?" you stammer, caught off guard.

"I was right next to you at the Vipers' race, remember?"

Your eyes widen, your heart rate kicking up a notch as you realize he knew who—or rather what Jenna was. Although you trust Hunter, it only takes one slip for the crew to find out about your association with a Viper.

"Relax, my lips are sealed," he says with a reassuring smile. "You were practically making heart eyes at her the whole race though—hard not to notice."

"I was not watching her like that!" you protest, maybe too quickly.

"Uh-huh, and I'm not gay. Come on, Y/n/n, let's not lie."

You drop the wrench and face him, unsure of why he was so accepting of this. "You don't think it's weird that she's a Viper? We're supposed to be, like... sworn enemies!"

Hunter smirks. "Please. That's half the thrill, isn't it? And since when have you ever avoided doing something just because it's 'not allowed'?"

You both glance at the car you stole and burst into laughter.

"We're not dating," you start. "I wouldn't even say we're friends. Last night was the first time I saw her again since the race, and that's what you saw on the camera footage." You find yourself admitting more than you planned to, trusting the older guy more than you expected.

"Do you want to date her?" Hunter asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No!" You blurt out, way too fast.

Hunter just narrows his eyes, giving you that look. "I thought we agreed no more lying."

You fumble for words. "I-I mean, I don't even know her! I've known her for what, four hours? Sure, she's beautiful—okay, really beautiful—but that doesn't mean I'm thinking about a relationship." You pause, trying to gather your thoughts. "Besides, I've got a lot going on right now. You know that."

"You and your excuses," Hunter sighs. "When are you going to start living for yourself? I care about you like a little sister, and you need to take chances before you regret it. If you keep waiting for the 'perfect time,' you'll just end up with a bunch of what-ifs. If you don't know what you want, how will you ever find out if you don't try?"

This is the third person to lecture you about your life choices and philosophy in the span of two weeks. Anton, Jenna, and now Hunter. Clearly you were doing something wrong if more than one person has called you out on it.

"Alright, I want to—I want to get to know her," you finally manage to say. "I should probably text her, right?"

"She gave you her number?" Hunter asks, raising an eyebrow.

You nod. "Yeah, last night. But it's only been 12 hours, I don't want to seem desperate."

"Oh my god, text her, you idiot!"

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you pull out your phone, search for Jenna's name, but you couldn't find her number. You go to your recently added numbers and smile at the name she saved herself as: Your Favourite Viper. You send her a text.

"What'd you say?" Hunter asks leaning closer taking a look at your screen.

"Hey? You fucking just said 'hey'?" He looks at you incredulously. "I thought lesbians were supposed to move fast. At this rate you'll maybe get a hug in a couple years."

Before you can fire back, your phone lights up, showing an incoming call.

"Holy shit," you mutter, eyes darting to Hunter in panic.

"Answer it! Oh my god, see what she wants!" he whispers urgently, practically vibrating with excitement.

You stare as her name flashes across the screen with shaky hands. It was just another call. Just another girl. Why are you so nervous?

You take a breath and answer. "Hello?"

"Hey Greaser! You busy right now?"

Even though the phone isn't on speaker, Hunter's glued to your side, frantically shaking his head and mouthing, No! Say no! His exaggerated hand gestures make you laugh.

You laugh at how insane he looks. "No, I'm free. What's up?"

"Great. Meet me at Birch and 49th."

"Why? What's happeni—"

Before you could finish your sentence you're caught off by a beep, indicating the call ended. "Anddd she hung up," you sigh.

"I like her," Hunter grins. "She's got moxie."

"Where even is Birch and 49th?" you ask, frowning.

"Hold on, I got you." He pulls out his phone, tapping around for a moment. "That's weird. It's a shopping mall in Summer Valley."

"A mall?" you echo, confused. "Is she taking me shopping. What the fuck?"

The older guy laughs and shrugs. "No one told you to go after a girl from Summer Valley."

"I'm not going after anything."

"Sure you're not," he teases, smirking. "Yet, you're still heading to this mall. Sounds like you're going after her."

You flip him off with a grin as you walk away.

"Keep me posted, Greaser!" he calls out, teasing.

You shake your head, already feeling the nerves returning. If you're really going to meet Jenna, you need to pull it together.

You decide it's best to meet Jenna with some leverage—maybe some news on Percy.

You spot Anton deep in conversation with Madison, just like the day of the race against the Vipers.

"Yo, Ant! I'm heading out!" you call, interrupting them without a second thought. You weren't in the mood for formalities.

Both of them turn, startled by your sudden presence. There's something off about them—stressed, maybe? Anton looks angry, but whatever flash of frustration you thought you saw vanishes quickly. "Oh, hey. Where you headed?" he asks, casual but guarded.

"Just heading to the Valley to look for some parts," you lie smoothly, keeping your story close to the truth. No need to risk getting caught if someone actually sees you at the mall.

Anton nods, signaling the end of the conversation, but you're not done yet. You clear your throat. "Actually, speaking of Summer Valley, what's the deal with that Percy guy?"

Anton's brow furrows, and Madison gives you a curious look. "I saw him at the race," you explain with a shrug, trying to play it off casually. "He just gave off a bad vibe, like he was up to no good or something."

The tension between them is palpable, but neither of them dives into it. Anton brushes it off, saying, "He's just a dumbass."

At the same time, Madison leans in with, "What'd you see?"

You turn to Madison, sensing she might let something slip. "He was talking to someone. It looked... heated?"

"Georgie," she whispers under her breath, barely loud enough for you to catch. But you do.

Before you can ask more, Anton steps in, commanding the conversation, clearly trying to shift focus. "Look, Y/n, he's bad news. I don't know what those Vipers get up to in their little after-school club, but I don't want you getting involved, okay? Vipers are trouble. Stay clear of them."

"Yeah, don't worry," you reassure him, hiding the fact that you're about to meet up with one very soon.

Suddenly Hunter's words echo in your head again: If you don't know what you want, how will you ever find out if you don't try? He was right. And now, you figure the best way to shift the conversation is by dropping a bombshell of your own.

"I'll do the race," you say, throwing out the unexpected decision.

Anton's eyes widen in surprise, and you can tell that you've just given him the perfect distraction from Percy and the Vipers.

————

As you start your drive, you can't help but notice the streets are teeming with more drugged-up souls than usual. Young, old—it didn't seem to matter; the drug epidemic in Brimstone spared no one. A familiar ache settles in your chest as you watch people you once called neighbors and classmates wander aimlessly, trapped in their addiction. It was an all-too-common escape in this town—a place where ambition had no room to grow, where dreams were crushed before they even started. The further you get out of Brimstone, the fewer of them you see, like the weight of the city's decay is gradually lifting.

You pull into the bustling parking lot of the mall, the engine's rumble fading as you find a spot near the back. It's just past 6 p.m., and the place is alive with activity. Cars are circling for spaces, people weave in and out of stores, and teenagers being obnoxious. You check your phone—Birch and 49th, just like Jenna said.

Your eyes scan the area for any sign of her, but there's no sight of Jenna. You cut the engine, but the adrenaline from knowing you're about to see her again hums under your skin.

The evening air is cool as you step out, leaning against the side of your car, trying not to seem too anxious. You check your phone again—no new messages, no calls. Maybe you should text her and let her know you're here.

Before you can even unlock your phone, the sound of soft footsteps approaching catches your attention. Instinctively, you straighten up, your eyes tracing the sleek black loafers in front of you. Slowly, you lift your gaze, and there she is—Jenna. That same confident smirk that's been etched into your mind since the last time you saw her.

She's wearing a flowy brown skirt paired with a black cashmere sweater, looking almost... harmless?

"You done checking me out?" she teases.

Your eyes snap up to meet hers. Despite her bold words, you catch the faint blush colouring her cheeks, and you can't help but hope it's because of you, not the cool evening breeze.

"Yeah, I am," you shoot back with a smirk, holding her gaze confidently.

She rolls her eyes, but smiles whilst doing so. "Alright Casanova, come on," she starts walking away from you, and you follow with no hesitation.

"Wait we're actually going to the mall?" You ask confused, as she leads you both to one of the entrances.

"Yes? Why else would I call you here. Tonight, I'm taking you shopping."

You didn't actually think she called you to go shopping.  You were only joking when you said that to Hunter.  Yet here you are.

You blink at her, caught completely off guard. "Shopping?"

"Yeah," she laughs, walking into the mall. "Come on, you'll need to keep up."

You follow her lead, trying to figure out how shopping was part of her plan to one-up Percy. A race? Sure. A late-night coffee run? Maybe. But shopping? This was a curveball.

"You're taking me shopping?" you ask again, almost incredulous.

"Yeah," she repeats with a teasing look. "You need a better jacket. That one's not cutting it."

You glance down at your worn-out jacket. It's not exactly new, but it's comfortable. "What's wrong with my jacket?"

"Nothing," she shrugs, her eyes flicking over you, clearly enjoying this. "But I want to see you in something that fits my vibe.  Something that makes you look like you're not from Brimstone."

Her words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you're unsure how to respond.  The idea of her buying you something feels... strange.  It wasn't like you needed new clothes—especially not from some fancy Summer Valley mall.  Your jacket was fine, and if it wasn't, you'd handle it.  But the fact that she wants to spend money on you?  It makes your stomach twist.  You couldn't help but wonder if she saw you as some kind of charity case—a girl from Brimstone who couldn't afford to keep up with her polished lifestyle.

You didn't want to be a project for her, someone she could mold to fit her world.  The thought makes you feel a bit defensive, but you swallow it down, not wanting to ruin the moment.  You glance at her again, her playful expression making it harder to argue.  Maybe this wasn't a charity thing.  Maybe she just liked you.

Still, it felt...weird.

You roll your eyes but can't help the smirk tugging at your lips. "So, what, you're my personal stylist now?"

She grins. "Maybe."

The two of you wander through the mall. The overhead lights cast a soft glow, reflecting off the shop windows as Jenna leads you into one of the higher-end clothing stores you'd probably never step foot in on your own.

She immediately heads toward the jacket section, flipping through racks like she's done this a million times.  You hang back, watching her with a mix of amusement and curiosity. There's something weirdly endearing about how serious she is about this.

Jenna pulls out a black leather jacket, holding it up and inspecting it. "This," she says confidently, turning to you. "Try it on."

You raise an eyebrow but take the jacket from her. As soon as you slip it on, you feel the weight of the leather, the way it fits snugly across your shoulders. It's different—definitely edgier than anything you'd pick out for yourself.  It resembled the Sinner's jacket only in that it's a black leather jacket, but something about it was entirely different—it was more you.

Jenna steps back, appraising you with a smirk that makes your stomach flip. "Now that," she says, her voice a little lower, "is hot."

You glance at yourself in the mirror, feeling a little out of place but... liking it.  You catch Jenna's eyes in the reflection, and for a second, the air between you feels charged, like there's something unsaid hanging between the two of you.

"Alright," you say, clearing your throat, trying to shake off the intensity of the moment. "I guess it's not bad."

"Not bad?" she teases, stepping closer to you. "You look like a Viper that got dipped in ink."

"Is that your plan?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Turn me into one of you?"

"Maybe," she replies, her voice light but her eyes lingering on yours a moment too long. "One step at a time, Greaser."

You laugh, shaking your head, and take off the jacket. "Okay, your turn."

Jenna raises an eyebrow. "My turn?"

"Yeah," you say, grinning now.  "If I'm trying on stuff for you, you're doing the same for me."

You have the money to spend, you just don't spend it on clothes, so one high-end purchase wasn't going to be the end of the world for you.

Jenna looks like she's about to protest, but then she shrugs, her lips curving into a playful smile.  "Alright, let's see what you've got."

You head toward a rack of clothes, picking out something you think would suit her but also give her a taste of her own medicine—something just slightly outside her usual vibe.

You hand her a dark red bomber jacket.  "Try this."

Jenna eyes the jacket before smirking at you. "I see what you're doing."

"Just trying to give you a taste of your own advice," you say, crossing your arms.

She rolls her eyes but takes the jacket anyway, slipping it on.  And of course, she pulls it off effortlessly. The red complements her dark hair and pale skin perfectly, and for a moment, you're speechless.

"Well?" she asks, spinning around with a grin. "How do I look?"

"Like you could kick someone's ass and look good doing it," you say without missing a beat.

Jenna laughs, and it's the kind of genuine, carefree sound that makes your chest tighten a little.  The two of you continue bantering, trying on ridiculous combinations of clothes, mixing high-end with completely impractical.

By the time you leave the store, both of you are laughing, arms full of shopping bags—most of which Jenna insisted on buying.

As you step back out into the quiet night and you drop off your bags in your respective cars, she turns to you, her playful smirk softening into something more genuine.

"That was fun," she says, nudging your shoulder.

You smile back, feeling lighter than you've felt in a while. "Yeah, I guess it was."

Jenna looks at you closely, searching your face, as if trying to read whether you're on the same page as her—whether you've enjoyed this evening as much as she has, and if you're not ready to call it a night just yet.

"Want to get ice cream?" she asks suddenly, her voice casual but her eyes giving her away.  There's a hint of something more in the offer, like she hopes this isn't the end.

You can't help but smile at the unexpected suggestion.

"Why not?" you say with a grin. "This one's on me."

With that, the two of you run back into the mall, a sense of urgency and excitement as you try to beat the closing time. Laughter echoes between you as you race toward the ice cream shop, determined to grab your scoops.

————

"So how exactly does shopping fit into your plan?" you ask, taking a bite of your ice cream.

The two of you ended up sitting on the edge of the now quiet parking lot, legs dangling over the curb as you chatted.  Finally, you decide to address the question that's been nagging at you all evening.

"Plan?" Jenna echoes, pausing mid-bite as she swallows her ice cream.

"Yeah, the whole thing with Percy—finding out his secrets?" you explain, slightly confused as to why you even need to clarify.

"Wait, so you're helping me?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah? Isn't that why you asked me out?" you reply, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"You didn't text me back saying yes. How was I supposed to know?"

You give her a look. "...Then why'd you invite me out?" you ask, still confused.

"Because I could," she says casually, like it's no big deal. "You said you weren't busy."

You blink at her, still trying to piece it together. "So, you just... invited me out for no reason?"

Jenna tilts her head, giving you a playful smile. "Do I need a reason?"

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. The girl sitting next to you is a complete enigma.  First, she ropes you into some covert mission to gather dirt on Percy, and now she's taking you shopping and out for ice cream like it's a casual hangout.

"Well... I guess not," you mumble, feeling a little off-balance.

Jenna takes another bite of her ice cream, her gaze drifting up to the fading evening sky. "Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you.  Ever think of that?"

Your heart skips a beat at her words, but before you can react, she nudges you with her elbow, breaking the tension.  "Plus, I figured if I was going to enlist your help with the whole 'Percy situation,' I might as well reap all the benefits."

You frown, puzzled. "Like what?"

She shrugs, smirking at you. "Like seeing you in that jacket. You look good, by the way."

You can't help but laugh at that, shaking your head.  "So this was all an elaborate ploy to dress me up?"

Jenna grins. "Maybe."

You shake your head with a blush, a soft chuckle escaping you. "You'll see me in it again next week."

Jenna raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "What's happening next week?"

"I'm racing."

Her eyes widen in surprise. "Wait, seriously? You've joined the Sinners now? And you're just casually dropping that on me?"

You wave your hand dismissively. "Not exactly. It's just an exhibition race.  A week today at 7.  Same place as where we met actually. I figured it's a good chance to see if it's for me, you know?  No commitments yet."

Jenna nods thoughtfully, her expression shifting from shock to approval. "Well, it's about time you took the wheel—literally and figuratively." She smirks. "One step closer to sorting out all your issues, huh?"

"Mhmm, so you coming?"

Jenna looks taken aback by your serious tone. "How would that work? What would your crew think?"

With a sigh, you finally reveal, "They think you're my girlfriend."

She nearly chokes on her ice cream. "What?"

"They saw footage of us last night in the garage and, well... yeah. Thankfully, they didn't recognize you. I told them you're from Ridgewater."

"Ridgewater?" She scrunches her nose in disgust. "Ugh, even I can't stand those snobs."

"You're literally in the same tax bracket," you fire back, amused.

"We're way more tolerable," she insists, clearly offended. "But seriously, how could you let us get caught on camera? Don't you know there are cameras in your club's garage?"

"It's not my club. And yeah, I know, but no one ever checks them. I have no idea why Anton did that day."

Jenna sighs, the sound dripping with annoyance. The noise hits you hard, like a voice inside your head that reminds you that this doesn't mean anything, she hates being seen with you and all she cares about is risking your alliance. It stings, leaving you wondering if she's only hanging around because she needs something from you.

Wanting to shift the mood, you bring up what you overheard earlier. "Is there a Georgie in your club?"

Her eyes narrow with curiosity. "Yeah, there is. Why?"

You explain the interaction with Anton and Madison, how Madison had whispered Georgie's name when you mentioned seeing Percy having a heated conversation at the race. "I have a feeling he could help with your plan."

Jenna hums thoughtfully. "I'll get Emma to work on him," she says, already tapping away on her phone.

"Emma?" you ask.

"Yeah, she's a friend in the club. One of the few nice ones. Georgie's got a thing for her, so she'll probably be able to squeeze some info out of him."

You nod, piecing it together. That must've been the girl you saw her talking to at the race. Still, the earlier sting lingers in your chest. It bothers you more than you'd like to admit that Jenna might only see you as a means to an end.

The mood feels heavier now, so you stand up. "It's getting late. I should head back."

Jenna pauses, clearly wanting to say something more. A part of her seemed to regret driving herself here. If she hadn't, maybe this night could've stretched out longer, and you could've dropped her home like you did the previous night. But she nods, keeping her thoughts to herself. "Yeah. I guess you should."

————

The week flew by in a blur, and before you knew it, race day was here. Your first race.

You and Jenna had been texting off and on all week—mostly about the frustrating lack of progress with Percy, but there'd been some banter too, the kind that was just toeing the line between playful and flirty. At least, you hoped it was flirting.

Your nerves buzzed as you pulled up to the track, the sun starting to dip behind the skyline. The place was already alive with revving engines and the thick smell of burning rubber.

Unlike the Viper race a few weeks back, there wasn't any strict segregation going on. Sure, the Ridgewater crew—the Ravens—hung out on one side, and the Sinners were mostly on the other, but people were still mixing. Talking. No tension, no invisible lines drawn in the sand.

Stepping out of your car, the weight of the moment finally started to hit you. Anton and the crew were scattered around, but your mind kept drifting. You were thinking about the race, sure, but also about her. You hadn't seen Jenna since the mall, and even though she texted you "Good luck" this morning, the thought of her showing up was stuck in your head.

And yeah, you were buzzing to see if she'd actually come.

Hunter appeared at your side, breaking your thoughts with a friendly clap on the back. "Ready for this?" he asked, wearing that usual cocky grin of his.

You took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. I think I am."

"Good," he said with a laugh. "Because everyone's waiting to see what you're made of." He gave you a little shove, then wandered off to catch up with the others.

With one more deep breath, you walked over to where Anton and the rest of the crew were hanging out. The adrenaline was kicking in, but so was that nagging thought in the back of your mind—Would Jenna show up?

"Sweet jacket Y/n, looks like you finally splurged on yourself huh?" Anton laughs, pulling you into a bear hug.

You grin, knowing full well the jacket wasn't your doing but Jenna's. The rest of the crew were hyping you up, throwing questions your way about the race—how you were feeling, if you were ready—typical racer small talk. You played along, but your mind kept drifting.

The group started to thin out as people dispersed, and your eyes wandered over to the pillars near the edge of the lot, the spot where you first met Jenna. It was hidden, quiet—your secret spot. Was she here?

You started walking toward it, curiosity pulling you closer. That's when you saw them—four Ravens, the Ridgewater crew in their signature blue, standing around in a tight circle, talking to someone you couldn't see clearly at first. But as you got closer, the fifth person came into view.

She did come after all.

Your heart skipped a beat, that giddy excitement rising up. But that feeling was quickly replaced by something else. Her expression wasn't one of excitement or amusement. No, she looked uncomfortable. You could see it in her stiff posture, the way she subtly shifted as the Ravens talked around her.

You step closer, the voices of the Ravens becoming clearer as you approach. One of them, a tall guy with bleach-blond hair, was leaning in a little too close to Jenna, his smirk all too familiar.

"Come on, sweetheart, why don't you ditch the pillars and hang with us tonight? We're a lot more fun," he drawls, eyeing her in a way that made your blood boil.

Jenna's eyes narrow, her body language practically screaming discomfort, though she keeps her cool. "Yeah, I'm not interested," she says flatly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Blondie chuckles, not getting the hint—or choosing to ignore it. "I don't see any affiliation on you," he retorts, motioning to her lack of a jacket. "You're no Raven, not a Sinner either. You're a free agent, sweetheart. Why stick around?"

That's when you decide you've heard enough.

Stepping into the circle, you make your presence known. "She's with me."

The guy looks at you with an unimpressed raise of his brow, but before he can say anything, you shrug off your jacket—the one Jenna had bought for you—and drape it over her shoulders. "She's mine," you say, locking eyes with him, daring him to push it further.

Jenna's cheeks flush a soft pink, her eyes darting to yours, clearly taken aback by your sudden boldness. She instinctively grips the jacket tighter around her, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the situation.

Blondie snorts, glancing at his buddies before looking back at you. "Alright, alright, no need to get possessive. We were just talking." He raises his hands defensively, but the look in his eyes says he's not completely backing down. Still, they start to shift away, slowly retreating as the tension fades.

Once they're out of earshot, you turn to Jenna, your expression softening. "You okay?"

She nods, her lips curving into a grin. "Nice save," she says, still clutching the jacket. "I didn't know you were the possessive type."

You chuckle, feeling the adrenaline from the confrontation fade. "Just making sure they knew the deal."

"Yeah, well, I could've handled it." She smiles, but there's a twinkle in her eye. "But...thanks for the jacket." Her blush deepens, and you can't help but feel a little victorious seeing her like that again.

"Anytime," you reply, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. The race may be on your mind, but right now, it's her that's making your heart race.

You glance over your shoulder to check if anyone can see you, but Anton is deep in conversation with what looks like the leader of the Ravens, drawing all the attention his way. Typical Anton.

"I didn't think you'd show up," you admit, turning your gaze back to Jenna, noticing how your jacket swallows her frame, the sleeves hanging past her hands. Somehow, it looks perfect on her.

"How could I miss your first race?" she teases, her lips curling into a smirk. "You could walk out of this a full-fledged Sinner if you end up loving it."

That thought hadn't really crossed your mind before. What if you did enjoy racing? Were you really going to add "racer" to your list of titles? And if you hated it—what then? Would you leave Brimstone behind for good? Your mind starts spinning with all the possibilities, but you stop yourself before the spiral goes too deep. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

Jenna tilts her head thoughtfully. "You said this race had nothing on the line right? Just a friendly race?"

You nod, though a flicker of doubt lingers.

"Then yeah," she says, her voice firm. "I think it's fair for you to give it a shot. Figure out what you want." Her eyes meet yours, steady and reassuring. "Sometimes, you don't know until you try."

Her words calm the storm in your mind, and for the first time tonight, the weight of your choices feels a little lighter.

"I'm totally making fun of you if you lose though," she adds, giving you a playful wink.

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Of course you will," you reply, trying to play it cool, though her teasing still makes your heart skip a beat.

She smirks, leaning back against the pillar with a casual confidence that somehow makes you feel even more jittery. "Just trying to keep you grounded, you know. Can't let you get a big head if you win."

"Like I need help with that," you shoot back with a grin.

For a moment, the banter eases your nerves. But then the reality of the race looming ahead creeps back in, and you glance over to where your car is parked, engines revving in the distance. The scene is alive with anticipation, and you can feel the electricity in the air, building up to something big.

"Seriously though," Jenna adds, her tone softening, "I think you'll do great. You've got the skill, the focus. Just don't overthink it, okay?"

Her words hit deeper than you expected, and you feel a warmth spreading through your chest. "Thanks," you murmur. "I'll try not to."

She gives you a small nod, her eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before flicking to the track behind you. "Go show them what you've got," she says, her voice soft but full of that undeniable spark.

You take one last look at her before stepping back, the jacket still draped around her, fitting like she was always meant to wear it.

She must've thought that look meant you wanted the jacket back, because she started to shrug it off.

"—no, keep it on," you quickly interrupt. "I can't have anyone else bothering you, especially when I won't be there to stop them."

————

Anton stood next to you outside the car, arms crossed, his usual smirk tempered by something more serious. The roar of engines filled the air around you, and the crowd was buzzing with energy as the race time drew near.

"You ready?" he asked, eyeing the car, then looking back at you with raised eyebrows.

"As I'll ever be," you replied, your fingers itching at your side. You tried to shake off the nerves, but it was easier said than done.

Anton clapped you on the shoulder, a rare look of pride on his face. "Remember, this isn't just about winning. You gotta feel it, the rush, the adrenaline. If you're not in the zone, it's game over."

You nodded, knowing he was right. Winning is not the end goal—it was the feeling, the test, to see if this whole world was something you were cut out for. You glanced around, spotting familiar faces from the crew and a few more you didn't recognize. The Sinners, the Ravens, and everyone else, all here to watch and see what you'd do.

"I know," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. "Just got to stay focused."

Anton gave you a once-over, then grinned. "You're already ahead of the game. You've got your crew, and your girl showed up to watch. Not a bad start, huh?"

You chuckled, though a part of you still didn't fully understand what you were doing here—or what you were trying to prove. But you couldn't deny the thrill of the moment.

"Speaking of which, how's she doing?" Anton asked, leaning in closer. "Saw you two getting cozy earlier."

"Don't start with that," you muttered, shaking your head.

He laughed, stepping back. "Just saying, keep your head in the game. Show them what you've got."

The loudspeaker crackled to life, announcing the final call for drivers to get to the line. Anton gave you one last pat on the back. "Oh—and Y/n? Step on it. Don't stay in your limit."

You watched him walk off with those final words. It was time.

As you slipped into the driver's seat, adjusting your gloves and gripping the wheel, you glanced out the window toward the starting line. The pit of nerves in your stomach twisted a bit tighter when you spotted the racer pulling up next to you. Of course, it had to be him—the blondie from earlier, the one who had been hitting on Jenna.

He threw you a cocky smirk as he revved his engine, clearly more than ready to leave you in the dust. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the sight of him. Typical. He looked the part—flawless car, arrogant attitude, and an ego that seemed to fill the entire track.

Here he was, thinking he'd outshine you, thinking he had this in the bag. The thought sent a new wave of adrenaline through your veins, change of plans—winning is the end goal. It was personal now.

Settling into the driver's seat, you gripped the wheel tightly. Anton's last words echoed in your mind: "Step on it.  Don't stay in your limit." But the speed he wants? You'd never gone that fast, and you weren't sure you wanted to.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you glanced at the blond in the car next to you. He was smirking like he already had this in the bag. It The memory of him hitting on Jenna made your grip tighten even more. Then your eyes shifted to where Jenna stood, wrapped in your jacket. She met your gaze for a second, and you had to look away. God, what was I thinking? You cringed internally, remembering how you had jumped in like some hero and blurted out, "she's mine." What were you doing? This wasn't you.

The signal blared. Instinct took over, and you slammed your foot on the gas. The car roared to life beneath you, and you shot forward. The world around you blurred as the race began, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Blondie took the early lead, just as you expected. He was gunning it, probably trying to hit that 200 mark like Anton said.

You weren't even close. And you still weren't half way into the race. The speedometer was climbing fast, but the memory of your father's crash came rushing back. 200km/h—that was the speed he'd hit before everything went wrong. Your heart raced faster at the thought. No way am I hitting that. I can't. But you didn't need to. You weren't trying to match raw speed; you had something better—control, technique, and years of dodging the cops under your belt.

The first stretch was relatively straightforward, and you stayed just behind Blondie, pacing yourself. He was fast, sure, but he was reckless. You could see it in the way he took the turns, wide and messy, eating up his speed. You kept to the inside, handling each corner with precision, hugging the pavement like you were born to do this. Blondie kept glancing in his rearview, probably wondering why you weren't trying harder to catch him. He didn't get it. He didn't know you didn't need to reach that ridiculous speed to win.

The track began to curve—the finish line in sight, and you knew this was your moment. There was a sharp turn ahead, one that Blondie was approaching too aggressively. You could already see it. He wasn't going to slow down enough, and when he hit the curve, he'd either lose control or slide wide, giving you the opening you needed.

Now, you thought, pulling back just slightly as you hit the turn. You feathered the brakes, hugging the inside of the corner while Blondie flew into it way too fast. Just as you expected, his car swerved wide, giving you the perfect opportunity. You floored it, slingshotting around him with precision. He was still fighting to regain control when you shot past him.

Your heart raced, the finish line right there for the taking. The engine growled beneath you as you pushed forward, ignoring the urge to check the speedometer. It didn't matter now. You were in control, and that was all that counted. The crowd blurred into the background as the finish line rushed toward you.

You crossed first.

The roar of the crowd engulfed you like a tidal wave. Cheers erupted from every corner, your name ringing in your ears like a victory anthem. "Y/N! Y/N!" they chanted, and the excitement surged through you, igniting every nerve ending. You felt invincible, a high unlike anything you had ever experienced. The adrenaline coursed through your veins.

In that moment, you understood why people chased this feeling. It was intoxicating, addictive even, and a part of you hated that you were reveling in it. The thrill of victory mingled with the elation of having just pushed your limits. But then your eyes found her in the crowd—Jenna. She stood there, a radiant smile lighting up her face, and all at once, the adrenaline surged anew.

It was a reckless desire that ignited within you, overwhelming and raw. You wanted to kiss her, right there in front of everyone, to pull her close and celebrate your victory together. The image flickered in your mind, vivid and enticing, and suddenly, all you could think about was her. You remembered reading an article once about bank robbers who, after cracking the vault, had sex right in front of the safe due to the adrenaline. A story you once thought stupid, in that moment, it made sense. The adrenaline, the thrill of accomplishing something audacious, the heat of the moment—it was all a cocktail of desire that was too intoxicating to resist.

But as your heart raced for both the victory and for her, a small part of your mind pushed back. You couldn't deny it any longer; you wanted Jenna. You wanted her bad. And you didn't care if the crew found out who she was or if they learned she wasn't from Ridgewater. You didn't care if your alliance crumbled under the weight of it all. But as quickly as the thought ignited, a flicker of caution settled in. I can't jeopardize it for her, she's in trouble.

The cheer of the crowd faded momentarily as you wrestled with your feelings. Was this thrill rooted in the race itself, or was it because she was watching you? The two sensations intertwined, leaving you breathless. You wanted to close that distance between you—you at the finish line her at the pillars.

You leaned against your car, grinning widely as you took in the moment, the reality of what you'd just accomplished. The rush of adrenaline, the celebration of the crowd, and the promise of what was to come. With Jenna smiling back at you, you knew you were fucked. You thought with this race now over some of your questions would be answered, but now you are left with more.

————

The celebration continued long into the night, the energy of victory electrifying the air around you. The next hour unfolded in a blur of races, laughter, and clinking beer bottles. Your heart was still racing from the earlier adrenaline, but now it was fueled by the heady mix of joy and the shared exhilaration of the crowd.

As you mingled and celebrated, your eyes continuously searched for Jenna, hoping to catch a glimpse of her amidst the people. But luck was not on your side; you couldn't spot her anywhere. It was only once everyone started leaving, and you were getting ready to leave, did you spot the girl.

"Mind giving me a ride home?" she asked, knowing you won't say no.

And so there you both were, on the highway to Summer Valley. "I knew you would win," she broke the silence. "How did you like it?"

"It was...nice." you answer, eyes straight on the road. After finally admitting to yourself your growing attraction to Jenna, you found it hard to look her way; the adrenaline was still coursing through you, making your thoughts a tangled mess.

"Nice? All you're going to give me is nice?" she fires back with sass.

You laugh, "I'm just confused. I don't know if I enjoyed racing, or the attention that came from winning."

The attention that came from you.

Jenna tilted her head, studying you with a curious expression. "Come on, don't play coy with me. You know you loved it. That rush, the speed, the crowd cheering your name—it's addictive. You can't deny that."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you kept your eyes on the road. "Yeah, I guess it is. But it's more than just that. It's everything that came with it. The energy, the victory...and yo—." You cut yourself off before you regret your words.

Her brow furrowed slightly, "And what?"

You bit your lip, debating whether to dive into your feelings now or keep it light. But decided to can the idea as a whole. "Nothing, anyways was your friend able to make Georgie or whatever spill?" You ask trying to change the subject.

Jenna seemed upset about the change in topic, but didn't press it any further. "Actually yeah. He didn't give much context, but Percy's meeting someone tomorrow, and we are going to spy on that meeting," she smiles proudly.

"Sounds like a plan. Do we know anything about who he's meeting or what it's for?"

"Georgie just said something about Ghost Smoke. I don't know what that is—a new racing crew maybe? That name mean anything to you?"

"Ghost Smoke?" You parrot, making sure you heard her right. She nods her head.

From what you knew, Ghost Smoke was the latest drug that was being pushed out onto the streets. The one that's been causing the latest drug epidemic in Brimstone. If what you're thinking is true—then Percy is not someone that should be fucked with. You consider telling the girl in your passenger seat about what you know, but decide to keep quiet. Not tonight.

Before you knew it, you found yourself on the brown-eyed girl's street. You instinctively slowed down, stopping about twelve houses away—probably out of habit—but she didn't seem to mind. As she turned to you, her intense gaze pierced through the dim light, leaving you wondering what she was thinking. Was she going to lean in for another kiss on the cheek? Just as that thought flickered in your mind, it was swept away by the sound of her opening the car door.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Greaser," she said, her voice playful yet filled with a hint of mystery, before walking down the road, still wrapped in your jacket.

You remained parked in the shadows of the dimly lit street, your thoughts racing as wildly as your heart had during the race. That uneasy feeling nagged at you, refusing to fade. You had thought Jenna was the answer to your questions, a beacon guiding you through the chaos, but she also seemed to be the source of many new ones. Just what was this girl pulling you into, and why couldn't you bring yourself to walk away?

[eroscomet]

Make it Right

Chapter two- Hauting for Home

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Paring: Astrid Deetz x Fem!Ghost!Reader

Warnings: Mentions death, a bit angsty, bad writing. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 3k+

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm so sorry that this chapter took a while to make. I was busy on the weekend; however, I found time to finally finish the chapter for you all! I really do hope you guys enjoy this one! I will try to get a specific schedule for updates on certain stories. If you guys are wondering about updates for 'Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours,' I will try to update that as soon as possible. I will also be doing a couple drabbles on different characters and or drabbles of characters I've already written for. I would also like to thank you guys so much for all the support you all have been showing me! I am so thankful and grateful for each and every one of you! Thank you so much for every like, reblog, and comment, it means a lot to me!

╰┈➤Series Masterlist

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"You talked to my dad?!" Astrid had exclaimed with an amused smile on her face. There it was, that twinkle in her eye that you had missed so much. She hadn't been very happy recently, with you not around and everything else in her life that had been happening.

"Yeah, when I had first died. I got sent to the immigration office, and what do you know? There he was behind the glass. He's just as kind as you always told me he'd be. Surprisingly, he immediately recognized me. He told me that he had been watching after you and practically watched our love 'blossom,' as he put it." The two of you continued walking outside.

You couldn't help but think about how people must be seeing this. Astrid looked as if she were talking to herself from an outside perspective. Aware of her past, you knew people had a tendency to bully her, so when nearing Miss Shannon's School for Girls, you tried to get her to talk as much so that others wouldn't look at her funny. So, you took up most of the time on the way there, talking as much as she could so that she didn't have time to talk. Which was odd because she was usually the one who'd talk while you'd listen.

"He said he liked me, which is a relief. Sometimes, I feel like your mom is more confused but is trying to be supportive. I mean, remember when I had first come over, and she started talking about how she too 'experimented' as she said. Anyway, that isn't the point. I met your dad, and we actually frequently visited you together. It's funny, sometimes we'd bond over how much we missed you."

Astrid's eyes had furrowed as she had begun to notice that every time she began or wanted to speak, you only spoke faster, almost sputtering out information. A frown tugged at your lips as she had caught on.

"I just don't want people to look at you even more weirder than they already do. If you're talking to yourself, they'll find that an easy target. Try...putting on some headphones and pretending you're on the phone? Or you can just put your phone up to your ear?"

She smiled as she took her phone out of her pocket and brought it up to her ear.

"Thanks, you're right. So, what else did he say about me? Did you see my grandfather? What's the afterlife like?" Astrid felt like she had a million different questions to ask.

"Your dad says he's proud of you and that he sees himself in you all the time. As for your grandpa, no. I mean, I feel as if it's harder to find him since he did lose his head to a shark. The afterlife is a bit weird. I can't tell you much about it since I haven't exactly crossed over. I basically only know what headquarters and a few shops look like. I mean, there's a 'Soul Train' which essentially takes you to the 'Great Beyond,' but I never went because I don't want to risk not being able to watch over you."

You grabbed Astid's shoulders, moving beside her to walk toward the street end of the sidewalk. Even though you were dead, the sidewalk rule never really left you, even while Astrid couldn't even see you.

"Yeah, I figured. I almost can't believe that a shark bite ended his life, I knew my family wasn't normal, but we can't even have a somewhat normal death? The Great Beyond, huh? Soul Train is a clever name though. Does no one know what's on the side?"

"I mean, I've never seen someone leave then come back from the train in the full year, almost two years that I've been here. I'm not taking the risk and crossing anyway, I can't lose you again after we just got back to each other."

"You're right..." Her eyebrows furrowed, her attention on the sidewalk as they continued to walk. She thought to herself for a moment before speaking again.

"So, you don't have any ghost tricks you learned?"

"Of course, you'd ask that, would you be disappointed in me if I said I didn't?"

"I mean, you've been gone for a year almost two, I'd expect you to know at least something to make me feel better for all the time you've been gone."

"Okay, uhhh... I can walk through walls and, I guess, float a bit."

"That sounds like every other ghost."

"Just because i'm a ghost doesn't mean I have super powers, Astrid."

"Just saying."

"I mean, I do have this nasty scar from the accident." You lowered your shirt neckline, showing the scar on the lower part of your neck. Astrid winced at the scar before looking away.

"Right. Weird how all it took was one neck twist for you to die.

"Well, it's more like my neck twisted as if I was a cartoon character that got punched, and my head began spinning-"

"Ew, shut up. Don't talk about it like it's something light."

"I'm sorry, you're right."

It was silent for a bit as you guys walked into the school, Astrid opened one of the doors while you phased right through the other door. Astird put her phone back into her pocket as she walked upstairs and past the other students. You followed after her, your eyebrows furrowing at the other students nearby her dorm. Some of them whispering to each other while giggling.

That's when Astrid opened her dorm room's door, a bedsheet attached to the ceiling by a rope coming straight towards her. The bedsheet makes out a ghost with a 'Boo' sign in its chest area. Astrid stumbled back before turning around and looking at the other girls, who began to burst out into laughter behind her.

"When you're all driving carpool and banging your pilates instructor to fill the empty voids in your life, we'll see who gets the last laugh."

The girls smiles and laughs quickly died as she finished speaking. Astrid turned around as she went into her room, shutting the door behind her. You smiled proudly, a laugh escaping you as you saw the looks on the girls faces as they disburst from Astrid's door.

"Witty as always." You said as you phased through her dorm room's door. The make-shift ghost on the ceiling startling you a bit as you had almost 'ran' into it. Sometimes you forget you're a ghost even if it's been a year.

"They have not toned down with the comments? You had always been careful about this topic, not wanting to bring it up too much with Astrid.

"No." It was a simple and straightforward answer that made you not want to question further. A part of you felt angry that you were helpless to all of it now that you're dead. You had gotten so used to defending her against everyone but now your words would only fall on deaf ears.

You sighed as you plopped yourself onto her dorm room's bed, thinkiing for a moment on how to steer away the conversation of bullying that she obviously did not want to talk about.

"Did you hear that my sister's pregnant? I know that I shouldn't bother looking over them since they're perfectly fine.."

"I'm not surprised."

"She's naming the baby after me."

"God, that's ridiculous! Naming their kid after a relative who isn't even dead yet-" Astrid's voice faltered for a moment. The fact that you were dead and have been for almost two years was still a punch in the gut after all this time.

"That's what I said, baby." You offered her a small smile as you played into the bit that you were still alive for Astrid. She still wanted to make her at least feel a bit better.

'Baby.'

Your words - and your smile, even if it was for her benefit - just made Astrid's heart twist further in her chest.

"You're killing me here."

"Why?" Your head tilted to the side as you looked at her.

"Because you're supposed to be dead." Her voice came out in a strangled whisper as she looked down at the papers scattered on her desk.

You bit your lip, you didn't want to show that what Astrid had said hurt you. Even if you were dead, you still had emotions and feelings. You paused for a moment before deciding to drop the topic.

"So, they're having a baby shower. You should go."

"Oh god, a baby shower? Is it too late to make you disappear again?" Her face had immediately scrunched up with distaste at the idea of being forced to go to a baby shower - especially your self-centered sister's baby shower where she'd name her child after you for her own gain.

"Come on, you couldn't see me for a whole year, and now that you're finally able to, you already want to get rid of me? That's cold, babe, even for you. Even for me who's dead cold. Get it? Huh? Dead cold. Because i'm dead? And i'm cold now because I have no blood. No? Okay."

"Oof, that was horrible." She said as she shook her head and grumbled in response.

"Come on, admit you missed me. I heard all your late-night talks that you thought weren't reaching my ears."

"I did miss you - I've missed you for a whole year." She confessed, sounding a bit surprised by her own confession. The room fell silent, the weight of everything that had happened falling onto the both of them. Neither of them wanted to address it, though, they didn't want to have to deal with it now.

"Did you ever-" She paused for a moment as she thought of the right words to say, "When I'd lay in your bed and mope, were you just...watching me?"

"No, I hated that. I'd still do what I would've done if I were alive. I tried holding you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear that never got to you."

"Sweet nothings, huh?" She teased, which earned an eye roll from you. Again, the room had fell silent as the two were lost in thought before Astrid spoke again, breaking the silence.

"How bad did it hurt?"

"Uh.. Well... I just remember being on the ground one second, then in the air the next. I landed, and well- You know what. It had hurt for that second that I was alive, but it had been an instant death if anything."

Having to talk about your death wasn't an easy topic. It was a reminder of how quick you had lost it all. The blood in your system, the beat of your heart, Astrid. The sight of you nervously fidgeting with your own fingers made Astrid's heart ache.

"I hate that." She muttered, her voice coming in strained, almost as if she was forcing herself to get the words out.

"I'm sorry." Your words were mumbled as she continued to fidget with your fingers, now more anxiously than before. The apology caused Astrid to shut her eyes, trying to hold herself together. She felt that now was not the time to start breaking down.

"Don't. Don't apologize." She had almost snapped at you as she opened her eyes to shoot a glare at you.

"Okay." You were never one to go against her word, you didn't want to start a fight. Especially not now. All you could do was bring up one of your hands, beginning to gently pull on the hairs on the back of your neck as you avoided Astrid's eyes.

"Is that a nervous habit of yours now? Pulling your hair." She asked as she reached her hand out idly to brush your hair out of your eyes.

"I had gotten it when I first reached the afterlife. When you watch the people you love hurting, and all you can do is ghost around them..." Your voice had faltered, forcing yourself to clear your throat and then begin to speak again.

"You feel so helpless. Watching everyone who used to be around you and love you so miserable about your death. It makes you feel guilty but, most of all, useless. There's no way to hold, touch, talk to, comfort them... It's hard."

The room had fallen silent after your words. Astrid's fingertips gently brushed along the back of your head - tracing the place that you usually pulled at. She let her hand rest there, trying to keep you from pulling at your hair again.

"How cold am I?"

Your words made Astrid pause for a moment. Leaning closer to you as she wrapped an arm around her now ghost girlfriend. The chill of your skin made her shiver involuntarily - but Astrid tried not to show the way her body automatically wanted to shy away from the cold.

"Really damn cold. It's like you're an ice cube almost." Her words a mumble as she got closer to you, laying next to you as she rested her head on top of yours.

"I'm sorry that I'm not warm anymore." Your own words come out as a mumble as well, instinctively, your head rests on her shoulder.

"I know you don't much like when it's really cold. I thought I was keeping myself with this sweater but now that someone's actually able to touch me, I realize it's doing nothing for me."

"Gosh, you don't have to apologize for that. At least you're here." She pulled you closer against her, her arms wrapping around your waist - burtying her face into your shoulder, even if your skin was freezing and caused a slight burn against her own warm skin. She ignored the way that her body had involutarily shivered at the contact - focusing instead on the fact that her girlfriend was here.

"Barely." You mumbled quietly as you gently pulled away from your girlfriend, knowing that you were probably burning Astrid's skin with your own cold, dead skin that was now a pale blue hue.

"Don't be like that. You're talking as if you have no more hope."

"Death has a way of doing that."

Astrid let out a quiet huff at your words. Her eyes flickered back and forth from you and her own hands that were now gripped tightly on her bedding - but in the next moment, she let go. Almost as if with a full burst of speed, she darted to you. Her arms wrapping around your body, hauling you into her bed in a tight, crushing embrace.

"Astrid-" You had said in surprise and protest. You knew that you were cold. Dead. The cold would burn Astrid at one point, and you didn't want that. Not when you used to be alive and warm for her. You used to keep her warm and now you can only burn her with your icy dead skin.

"Don't even think about complaining. I don't care if you're cold." Astrid snapped as she held you impossibly close against her. Her body shivered once again as your cold skin was like a bucket of cold water dumped over her body - but she ignored the cold, focusing on the sensation of her girlfriend in her arms.

A frown had tugged at your lips, knowing that eventually, Astrid would get too cold, but after a year of being a lone ghost who watched your loved ones move on or suffer because of you, you couldn't help but be a little selfish. Your arms wrapped around her as tightly as you could.

You missed your girlfriend so much. Watching over her for a year, her suffering for a full year over your death, had done a number on you. You'd cry if you could, but all you felt was this deep internal sadness. You had no heartbeat, you had no blood to warm your body, you had no tears to shed from your dry eyes. Your chest was the most still it had ever been, you had no air to breathe anymore.

It had begun to feel like too much for the both of them. Being this close to each other after a year of thinking they'd never be able to have contact again, feeling each other's skin despite the feeling of a small burning on her own skin from your own. It was almost enough to make Astrid cry.

The cold was beginning to seep into her skin - making her shiver and leaving her skin prickled. But Astrid wouldn't - couldn't - let go of you. Not when it had been a year since she was able to hold you. You had only frowned as you held her tighter. A small hiss escaped Astrid from the cold contact as she tried to get herself impossibly closer to you.

"Damn it, it's getting too cold." She hissed, speaking between clenched teeth as she tried to bury her face into your shoulder further.

"Warm up with the blankets, I'll just lay beside you. I promise I won't disappear." You pulled away, gently moving Astrid off of yourself as you carefully pulled her bedsheets over her body. When you finished tucking her in, you lay beside her, admiring every detail you could land your eyes on.

She only huffed a bit, feeling oddly petulant about the fact that she had to let go of you However, she did as she was told. A small shiver rattled her body as her eyes locked onto yours. She managed to mumble something incohereently as she reached for you, trying to tug you close again.

"Too cold, baby. Just give it a moment. I'm here, you see me." You tried to reassure her as you gently tugged a strand of hair behind her ear.

'Baby.' The soft nickname only made her want to pull you close again, but she knew that you were right. Her boy was cold - skin still pricked and burned from being in contact with her girlfriend. She snuggled further into the bedding, her hand gently reaching out to yours. Linking her own pinky with yours, causing you to smile. Her eyes looked into yours as if asking if it was okay to which you had nodded.

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A/N: I don't know why this felt like such a short chapter to me despite it being the most words I've written so far?? I might have some filler chapters for this and 'Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours' sometimes. Then again, there is still a lot to write for the storyline themselves. Thank you, lovelies, for all the support on my posts! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I'm so sorry if some days I do not have time to update. Also, if there's anyone that wants to be tagged for updates on this story, leave a comment saying so! Bye, loves!