#In my first group project in college this girl in my group ghosted so hard that she never even joined the group chat we made

[edettethegreat]

heyy edette!

it's been a while! how are you?

up for a game of random questions?

if so, here hehehe ~ 🍵

what year of college are you in?

how's your mental health?

how do you deal with free loaders in group projects?

im asking because its almost the end of my senior year, and my groupmates are unresponsive..so yes im lowkey projecting😅🤭

HI WAKANAI!!!!!

I haven’t interacted with you in a while so it’s great to hear from you!

-I’m finishing up my third year, but since I chose my major at the start of this year, I might need to take an extra semester to finish up my required courses

-my mental health has been pretty good lately, finals have been tough so far but I’ll survive :)

-actually currently actively working on a group project where I’m the only one doing anything, my only advice is get as much work done yourself as possible so you don’t all fail, and if you have a good teacher who would let you report that your groupmates aren’t doing any work then yeah in cases of group projects, I find it perfectly ok to tattle on people (unless they have some level of reason or excuse for why they’re ghosting everyone)

[reiding-writing]

ECHOES OF SILENCE — SPENCER REID!

digging too deep into something you’re not directly involved in can have consequences.

s1!spencer x fem!reader | mystery | 3.3k | event masterlist.

| part one. | part two. | part three. |

main masterlist.

a/n — part two babyyyy, with a few cameos for my babes, iykyk

You sit in the back of the lecture hall, but you’ve stopped listening.

The words from the professor dissolve into the noise of your own thoughts, thoughts that loop in a quiet, panicked hum.

It’s been weeks since you first brought up your theory—missing college girls, all within a radius too tight to be coincidence—and still, no one’s taken you seriously. A joke, they said. A distraction from exams, group projects, and campus parties.

The friends who once nodded when you talked now roll their eyes, turning their backs on you with easy laughter when you bring it up. Even your roommate, who had seemed concerned at first, has started to shut the door a little too firmly when you try to explain the latest detail you’ve uncovered.

Outside, the October air bites, but you hardly notice. You move through campus like a ghost, just as unnoticed as the girls who disappeared.

There's something wrong here, you can feel it—but nobody else seems to care. The administration deflected your concerns with vague reassurances about “young adults finding their own path.” The words were polished, as if they’d been spoken a hundred times before.

When you left their office, you couldn’t help but wonder if they had a protocol for when girls like that vanished.

You’re walking back to your dorm when your phone buzzes, Spencer’s voice echoing through the receiver. The relief is immediate; at least he believes you. You answer, and his voice, calm but strained, fills the silence.

“I’ve been looking into the disappearances,” he says without preamble. “It’s not just your local colleges.”

Your pulse quickens. You stop mid-step, scanning the quad as if something will jump out at you. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve connected similar cases in colleges further out in the city. Girls, vanishing from Maryland, Strayer—there’s a pattern. The BAU is looking at it now.”

You knew it. That cold knot in your stomach tightens further as he continues.

“We’re talking about a coordinated effort. Someone, or a group, is targeting them. It’s not random.”

The world feels sharper, the shadows darker, like something is lurking just out of sight. “Why hasn’t anyone said anything?”

Spencer sighs. “It’s under the radar. They know how to blend in, make it look like the girls left voluntarily, but the timeline doesn’t fit. Whoever this is, they’re careful. But they’re getting bolder. You were right to be worried.”

You swallow hard, but your throat is dry. This was more than you’d imagined. “So, what do we do?”

His voice lowers. “You need to be careful. We’re dealing with something bigger than just local authorities. The BAU is moving, but these people are professionals. If they know someone’s onto them…”

You don’t need him to finish the sentence. It hangs in the air between you, as heavy as the threat itself. You look around again, this time truly seeing the faces of the students passing by. Any one of them could be next. Or maybe it’s already too late for some.

—

The scent of stale coffee fills the local police department’s waiting area, mixing with the sharp tang of disinfectant. You sit across from Spencer, flipping through a stack of missing person reports he’s been able to pull.

The faces of the girls stare back at you from the pages—smiling in yearbook photos, carefree and young. It’s hard to reconcile the images with their fates, with the cold emptiness that follows their names and the faint, scribbled notes: last seen at a party, disappeared after a study group, no signs of forced entry.

You’re glad that Spencer agreed to let you in on the official investigation, unsure you’d be able to go about your daily life with that malingering thought in the back of your mind that any one of the girls you see on a day-to-day basis could be the next addition to your notebook, another number in the case. A statistic.

Spencer sets another file on the table between you, his brow furrowed in concentration. “We’ve got a disturbing amount of overlap here. Same age range, similar social circles. Most of them were last seen at crowded events.”

You nod, skimming through the details. You knew this was bad, but seeing it all laid out like this, in official reports, makes it more real. “They’re being targeted at parties,” you mutter, piecing it together aloud. “Whoever’s doing this knows exactly how to disappear them without raising any alarms.”

Just then, Detective Walker strides in. You recognise her as the officer you’d spoken to a few weeks ago when you first voiced your concerns. She was dismissive then, barely giving you five minutes before handing you off to a clerk. Now, her expression is more serious, though a hint of skepticism still lingers in her sharp eyes.

“So, you’re telling me these disappearances aren’t just coincidence?” Walker asks, dropping into the chair opposite you. She flips open one of the files but doesn’t really look at it. “I don’t know, kids come and go all the time. Some of them just don’t want to be found.”

Spencer, ever patient, sits up straight. “We’ve been tracking similar cases across multiple colleges across D.C. These girls didn’t just decide to leave. There are too many similarities. Someone is orchestrating this.”

Walker glances at you, then at Spencer. The silence stretches long enough for you to feel the doubt creeping in, but finally, she leans back, rubbing his jaw. “Alright. I’ll bite. Let’s say this is more than it looks. What exactly are we dealing with here?”

A flicker of relief passes between you and Spencer. Walker isn’t fully convinced yet, but at least she’s listening.

Over the next few days, you sit in on interviews with the families of the missing girls, listening as they recount the last time they saw their daughters.

Most of the stories are eerily similar: the girls were seen heading to a party or a study group, sometimes in crowded dorms, other times at social hangouts, but never alone.

No one ever saw them leave. No one noticed them slip away. One moment they were there, and the next, gone, like a shadow in the middle of a crowded room.

You start to notice something else too—the faint look of frustration in the families’ eyes. A few mothers mutter how the police didn’t take their worries seriously at first, how they’d been told their daughters were probably off with friends or boyfriends, that they’d come back eventually. But they never did.

And you sympathise, if you were frustrated by their negligence, you couldn’t even imagine how awful it felt for them.

Later that week, back at campus, you and Spencer sift through more data in the library’s back corner, out of sight of curious students. You’re exhausted, but you can’t stop, not now. The glow of your laptop screen reflects off your tired eyes as you comb through social media profiles and event listings. Then something clicks.

“There’s a circle,” you whisper, pulling up a list of campus groups, scanning for overlapping names and attendees. “They’re attending parties and groups in places that are all within an hour radius from each other.”

Spencer leans in, looking over your shoulder. “We need more data. There’s got to be something to lead us to a central location.”

Spencer rifles through his bag for a few seconds before pulling out his phone, failing in a number and letting it ring on speaker.

“Giver of all things pink and fluffy, how can I help you boy genius?”

You furrow your eyebrows at the response, but Spencer seems unfazed.

“Hey Garcia, we need access to everything connected to these campus events,” He explains, laying out your findings. “Emails, attendance lists, anything that could show us who’s been organising these things. There’s something bigger going on.”

The sound of keyboard taps comes over the phone, joined by a “Watch a true genius do her work,”

The line goes silent for a few second barr the keys, and then there’s a small tut from the woman on the other end. “Uh, there’s a student forum for D.C colleges, seems like they share addresses and dates for certain student events with each other, all of our linked events being mentioned at least once, seemingly by the same few individuals,”

There’s another small pause, and then an unhappy hum. “They just posted a new party listing today, I’ll send you the date and address,”

“Thanks Garcia,”

“No problem Wonder Boy, Penny G out!”

You glance at Spencer, a cold wave of dread hitting you as the phone goes dead. This is it, almost certainly proof that someone’s been hunting these girls. And worse, they’re not done.

Walker is going to have to believe you now.

—

The first message arrives late one night, just as you’re about to turn off your computer. It’s an email from handle that’s just a bunch of letters and numbers, but the subject line—STOP—is what catches your attention. You hesitate, thinking it might be spam, but something feels wrong. Against your better judgment, you click.

You don’t know what you’re getting into. Walk away, or you’ll end up like the others.

There’s no signature, no indication of who it’s from, but the message is clear. You stare at the words, your pulse suddenly racing, and glance around your darkened dorm room.

The blinds are drawn, but you feel exposed, as though someone’s watching you right now. Your hand hovers over the mouse, and instinctively, you delete the email, but the unease doesn’t go away. Instead, it festers, a growing knot in your gut.

You immediately call Spencer. His voice is groggy but sharpens when you tell him what happened. “I think they’re onto us,” You breathe out, voice heavy with concern.

You can hear the ruffle of what you assume to be his sheets as he sits up. “We need to be careful. You should stay somewhere else for a few days.”

You agree, but sleep doesn’t come easy. The next morning, you pack a small bag and move into a motel on the edge of town, one Spencer picked for its anonymity.

You don’t tell anyone where you’ve gone, not even your closest friends. It feels safer that way. Still, the tension clings to you like a second skin. You can’t help but check your surroundings every few minutes, scanning faces and cars, wondering if one of them belongs to the person who sent that message.

A few days later, you’re sitting across from Spencer in his car, watching the local diner where you’re set to meet Detective Walker. The message still lingers in your mind, but you push it aside as Walker arrives, sliding into the booth with a grim expression.

“We found something,” She says without any preamble, placing a thin file on the table between you and Spencer. “Her name’s Charlotte Francis. She went missing last year, same pattern—college student, disappeared after a party. Only, we found her. Alive.”

You and Spencer exchange a look. “Where is she now?” Spencer asks, leaning forward.

Walker sighs, rubbing the back of her neck. “She’s in a trauma center. We haven’t been able to get much out of her, but... what little she’s told us? It’s bad. Really bad.”

Your stomach turns. “What did she say?”

Walker hesitates before speaking. “She was taken by a group—an underground ring, we think it’s traffickers. They exploit them, sometimes for months, before they disappear completely. Charlotte’s one of the few we’ve ever recovered.”

You feel the blood drain from your face. Exploit. The word echoes in your mind, heavy with implications. “She’s... she’s still alive though, right? Can we talk to her?”

Walker nods, but there’s no relief in her expression. “She’s alive, but barely. She’s not the same girl who went missing. The trauma, the things they did to her... it broke her. She won’t even look people in the eye. Most of the time, she doesn’t speak.”

A chill runs down your spine. You’ve been chasing this story, desperate for answers, but now you wonder if you’re getting too close. The warning from the email comes rushing back—Walk away, or you’ll end up like the others.

Later that day, you and Spencer visit the trauma center where Charlotte is being kept. The place is sterile, too clean, and the soft hum of fluorescent lights only heightens your anxiety.

A nurse leads you to a small room where Charlotte sits on a bed, staring out the window, her face hollow and gaunt. Her eyes don’t flicker toward you when you enter, and she barely reacts when Spencer speaks to her in a gentle voice.

“Charlotte? My name’s Spencer Reid, I’m with the FBI, is it alright if I ask you some questions?”

She nods stuntedly, barely so much as a flicker of acknowledgment in her expression. “Charli,”

Spencer blinks. “Sorry?”

“Don’t— call me Charlotte, please,”

“Right,” Spencer nods softly, pulling up one of the plastic guest chairs and motioning for you to do the same. “Of course, that’s no problem,”

The conversation is slow, almost non-existent, and it’s only when you mention the parties that she turns her head slightly, just enough for you to see the pain etched deep into her expression.

“Don’t,” she whispers, her voice a fragile thread. “Don’t look for them. They’ll find you.”

The weight of her words settles over you like a suffocating blanket. You know now that this is bigger than you ever imagined—more dangerous, more personal. And suddenly, the fear isn’t just about finding out the truth. It’s about what happens when the truth finds you.

As you leave the trauma center, Spencer glances at you under his glasses, his face tense with unspoken worry. “We’re getting close, but this is going to get worse before it gets better. They’re watching us.”

You nod, but you can’t shake the feeling creeping over you. Charli’s warning plays over and over in your mind. How many girls have vanished without a trace? How many more are out there, waiting to be found—or worse, already gone?

And how long before you become one of them?

—

Garcia’s lead takes you to a club on the outskirts of the Georgetown campus, one of those places that’s just far enough from the city to feel unsafe but close enough to attract the usual crowd of college students.

The police, along with Spencer and his team from the BAU, have planned the sting carefully—too carefully, you hope. The club is being watched, plainclothes officers mixed into the crowd, waiting for the moment to strike.

You’re there too, disguised as just another student, your nerves stretched thin as you wait for the signal. The goal is simple: get enough evidence to take down the ring, and rescue anyone being held against their will.

Spencer parks a few blocks away, both of you agreeing it’s better to approach on foot. The night air is thick with humidity, and a nervous energy buzzes between you as you walk toward the pulsing neon sign that marks the entrance.

The club is loud, chaotic. Inside, bodies move in time with the beat of the music, students laughing and drinking without a care in the world. But your focus isn’t on the crowd. It’s on the VIP section in the back, cordoned off by a velvet rope and guarded by two burly men. Spencer’s sharp eyes catch it too.

“That’ll be where it’s happening,” he mutters, nodding toward the area. “It’s the only place private enough to be able to make someone disappear without being noticed.”

You and Spencer inch closer, blending in with the throng of students. You act casual, pretending to sip a drink you grabbed from the bar. Your heart pounds in your chest as you try to look everywhere at once, scanning faces, trying to recognize anyone who fits the descriptions from the missing girls’ reports.

Then you see it.

A girl—too young, too innocent-looking—escorted by one of the guards through the VIP entrance. She glances around, clearly out of place, and you see the flicker of hesitance in her eyes just before she disappears behind the curtain. You nudge Spencer, your throat tightening.

“Spencer,” you say, voice barely a whisper.

He nods, tense. “Let’s get closer, but keep your head down. We can’t risk getting caught.”

You push forward, slipping through the crowd until you’re just a few feet from the VIP area. Spencer’s already pulling out his phone, discreetly trying to snap photos for evidence.

But as you lean in to catch a glimpse beyond the curtain, your foot catches on something, and you stumble forward—just enough to attract the attention of the guard.

“Hey!” the guard shouts, immediately stepping toward you.

Panic surges through you. Spencer grabs your arm, pulling you back, and you both make a quick retreat, weaving through the crowd. The music swells around you, but it does nothing to drown out the sound of the guards following close behind.

Your heart races as you dart through the narrow hallway toward the back exit, Spencer right on your heels.

“We need to get out of here—now,” he hisses, eyes darting toward the door.

You don’t need to be told twice. Together, you shove through the exit, spilling into the dark alleyway. The door slams behind you, and you take the opportunity to breathe.

“Oh thank god,” You slap a hand over your chest as you look over your shoulder towards Spencer behind you.

Except he isn’t there.

“Spencer?” you question, voice echoing empty in the alleyway.

A cold wave of dread washes over you. You spin in place, the sounds of shouting fading into the background. “Spencer!” you call again, louder this time, but it’s no use.

The realisation hits you like a punch to the gut. He’s not here. And you’re alone.

“Okay, okay breathe,” You exhale heavily, motioning downwards with your hand to calm yourself down. “Just go back to the car, yeah,”

You nod to yourself as you walk back towards the main street, taking routine breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth.

“Everything’s good, we’re fine,” You’re not exactly sure you’re convincing yourself, but you don’t deny the relief you feel when you spot the light spilling from a street lamp around the corner.

And then someone grabs you from behind, yanking you backwards. A hand clamps over your mouth, and you struggle, kicking and thrashing, but it’s no use. A van door slams shut, and everything goes dark.

— part three !!

[flanaganfilm]

Hi Mike!

I am loving the LONG posts you’ve been making about your career and films. I wonder if there is any such one for ‘Ouija: Origin of Evil’?

‘Doctor Sleep’ was the first film of yours I had seen where I went “What else has this guy made?” And I was so surprised to learn Ouija was yours as well, it took me back to that college date! When I bought it on blu-ray and showed it to my friend, she saw Alice and Doris and went “It’s Shirley!”

Id love to know what your thoughts and feelings are on the film, 7 years later. Cheers!

Sure thing! This will be a fun one... I had such a great time making that movie.

Back in the spring of 2015, we were shooting Hush. Blumhouse was coproducing the movie with Intrepid Pictures. This was my second outing with Blumhouse after they came aboard Oculus at tiff in 2013, and they'd even hired me do a little uncredited consulting on another movie they'd made - a teen horror flick called Ouija. The first Ouija movie was... well... not great, but it made a lot of money. And I mean a LOT of money. A sequel was inevitable.

Jason Blum started calling me about the project while we were working on Hush. Initially I passed on it, I wasn't interested - I wasn't sure how to make a movie about a Ouija board interesting, and I didn't see myself as a sequel filmmaker. It just wasn't a movie for me.

If you know Jason at all, you know he is one of the most persistent and persuasive people in the business.

He wouldn't take "no" for an answer, and the phone kept ringing. The bar was low, he argued. The first movie performed very well, and because the franchise was just hung on a board game, there was kind of a blank canvas. "What movie do you want to make, buddy? Because I promise you'll wait your whole career for someone to make you this kind of offer again. You are a fool if you don't say yes."

He finally made me an offer that I couldn't refuse: I could approach the film from any viable creative direction I wanted, just as long as it connected somehow to the first movie and involved a Ouija board, and if I did that (and brought in the scares the kids wanted), I'd have a guaranteed worldwide theatrical release through Universal Pictures.

It's hard to understate how appealing that prospect was at the time. Oculus had been released theatrically but only performed moderately well. Before I Wake had been caught up in Relativity's bankruptcy, so the promised theatrical release never occurred (at this time, the movie was tied up in bankruptcy court without any release on the horizon), and Hush had been scooped up by Netflix, which meant it would never see the inside of a movie theater.

This offered me substantial creative freedom and a guaranteed wide theatrical release with the full weight of Universal Pictures behind it... I finally agreed.

How could I not?

The first film was a contemporary elimination horror film about a group of teenagers who awaken a scary little girl ghost with a stitched-up mouth. She kills them one by one. I wasn't really drawn to that, and I pitched Jason instead on a prequel that focused on a single mother in the late 1960s. To my astonishment, he agreed.

They had their conditions - it had to be PG-13, it had to directly connect to the first film, and I had to deliver the movie on their budget. And I had my conditions - I wanted my crew (including my producer Trevor Macy and my DP Michael Fimognari), I wanted my period setting, and I wanted the movie to look like it was made in the late sixties, down to the zooms, the film grain, and all the other aesthetic bells and whistles. This wouldn't look like a contemporary movie.

Again, to my astonishment, they agreed.

They had one more stipulation, this one from Universal Pictures - no one could smoke cigarettes. And not just that, there couldn't be evidence of smoking in the movie; not even ash trays.

"But this takes place in the sixties," I argued. The NO that came in was emphatic and resounding. There was to be no evidence of cigarettes in our 1960's, and this was non-negotiable. This was a priority for Universal Pictures, and they were far more interested in eliminating cigarettes from the eyes of their young viewers than they were interested in historical accuracy.

Frankly, they were right.

We all agreed on the terms, and to my own admitted surprise, I went off to write and direct Ouija 2.

There was an immediate skepticism in the press when the project was announced, and a fair amount of mocking online. I was determined to ignore it. I really thought this could be fun. I felt like I had been given a gift; I had a huge canvas and precious few rules, and a guaranteed theatrical audience.

I wasn't just going to make Ouija 2; I was going to make Ouija 2 as well as it could possibly be made.

Sitting to write the script was a unique process. The only thing I knew for certain was the very, very end. Our connection to the first movie was that we were telling the origin story of Doris Zander, the ghost from the first film.

She came with some backstory that we were married to: the first movie told us her mother Alice was a professional medium. When Doris had been possessed after using an Ouija board, her mother had sewn her mouth shut and killed her. And we knew her older sister, Lina, had spent the rest of her life in a mental institution (where she grew up to be Lin Shaye), and was absolutely not to be trusted.

So no matter what I did, we had to land there. Everything else was fair game.

I was very interested in the idea of a family who worked as mediums, but most interested in them if they were not authentic psychics. I'd researched a lot about fake mediumship, and the tricks that were used in those performative seances to separate willing marks from their money. What if that was the family's business? What if her mother was something of a con artist, and her kids were part of the act? And what if they ran afoul of a real haunting?

And further, what if it wasn't that they were con artists - what if they were good people, behind it all? What if they had experienced loss themselves, and had rationalized their behavior by saying they were offering people comfort? This was interesting to me. It was cool, it was fun, and I hadn't seen that movie before.

The story was a lot of fun to write. I really enjoyed the characters, I really enjoyed the world, and I kept thinking about the kinds of movies that I loved growing up. Yeah, this was a movie for a younger audience, but maybe they'd sit in that theater and have an experience that would stay with them, the way the movies of my youth had stayed with me.

I thought about those movies: Poltergeist, The Omen, The Changeling, Watcher in the Woods... and I thought about the theatrical experience of them. Their music (I particularly honed in on Jerry Goldsmith's score from Poltergeist), their aesthetics, even the little markers in the upper corner that signal the reel changes - "cigarette burns", as they're called in the business.

All of those things were ornaments of my earliest theatrical experiences, and I wanted to recreate that for the young viewers who might seek out Ouija 2.

One thing that set Ouija 2 apart right away was that we were going to shoot in Los Angeles. I'd lived in LA since 2003, but I had never actually filmed a movie here (and haven't ever again, sadly). This was a really exciting factor - I could spend the day in prep at Blumhouse, and then go home and sleep in my bed.

This was also great for my home life. Kate and I were engaged by then, and Blum was very happy with Hush, so she ended up playing a small role at the top of the movie. Having just spent the Spring living in a hotel in Fairhope Alabama and only working nights, it felt very novel that I'd get up in the morning and go to the office, and be home for dinner. We absolutely loved it.

Casting was also fun. Terry Taylor at Blumhouse did the casting, and for the first time in a long time I could be in the room when actors came in to audition. This was all in-person, because we were in LA. For Before I Wake, we'd had to run the whole thing through the lens of foreign sales value and over choppy, pixelated FaceTime meetings that did not give us much understanding of who we were casting. Compared to that, this process was a real delight.

For Lina, I really wanted to bring back Annalise Basso, the young actress from Oculus. She'd done a terrific job on that movie, and this was a great chance to work together again.

Henry Thomas signed on as Father Tom, and we hit it off immediately. I had been a fan of his since... well, forever I suppose, but I was really excited that he'd be in our movie.

The big revelation, though, was Lulu Wilson. We auditioned a lot of girls for Doris, and we used a particularly upsetting monologue as the audition piece - a 60 second speech about what happens when someone is strangled to death. Lulu's audition knocked me over, and we cast her immediately.

(Fun note: in the film itself, Lulu performs the monologue almost exactly as she did in her audition. And she did it so well, we never cut away. Don't know many 10 year-olds who can hold an entire monologue like that... in fact, I know a lot of 40 year-olds who can't. Lulu Wilson kicks ass.)

Production began in September 2015.

From the jump, this movie was FUN to make.

We were using an antique zoom lens package to achieve the look, and after spending much of prep obsessively watching The Changeling and The Exorcist for inspiration, we were really excited to do something fun. Every day was like a trip to an amusement park.

Michael Fimognari and I enjoy one of the vintage cars

One set, it was a family reunion. I had a lot of my crew from Oculus, Before I Wake and Hush, and a few familiar faces in the cast as well. It even reunited me with Dougie Jones, who had worked for one day in my debut feature Absentia, and agreed to let us bury him in gross demon makeup.

I really can't overstate how fun this was. The movie had more genre set pieces than most of my other work combined, which meant every day we were dealign with ghosts, ghouls, and some wild stunt work. Annalise and Lulu were just delightful, and spent their days pulling escalating pranks on the crew. I would find myself tagged with dozens of C47's (clothespins) whenever Basso was on set, and Lulu was doing all of her own stunts and making us laugh like hyenas.

I was also really enjoying Henry. Toward the end of the shoot, I told him I wanted to put him in everything I did. He laughed and said "whatever, sure man, sign me up." He's been in everything I've made since.

We didn't have a lot of money, but had a lot more money than I'd ever had before, and because Universal was committed to a theatrical release, they wanted the movie to work. I felt supported at every turn. Trevor handled the production the way we'd always done, and this was now our fourth collaboration - I knew I had a producer for life.

Blum was also a delightful collaborator, popping up frequently to check in but always just to see if there was something we needed. I felt an enormous amount of trust from Blumhouse, Hasbro, Platinum Dunes and Universal. That's a lot of cooks for one kitchen, and believe when I tell you it can easily go south... but it didn't. In this case, it just clicked.

We got to do a lot of fun things that had nothing to do with horror, too. There's a lovely little scene in the movie where Lina has her first kiss. We modeled the entire shot sequence after the best kiss in the history of movies: Jimmy Stewart and Grace Kelly's smooch in Rear Window.

We were even able to perfectly mimic a slower frame rate just as their lips meet, exactly as Hitchcock had done in that movie. If you look in the background, the Rear Window poster is hanging on her wall. We were always careful to cite our sources (and there were a lot of them).

My favorite scene of the whole movie was a dinner date between Elizabeth Reaser and Henry that we filmed at the Cicada Club in downtown LA. This was a restaurant that I loved, as once a month it transformed into a full-blown time machine, putting a brass band on the stage and functioning like a 20's-era speakeasy.

The scene where Alice and Father Tom spend an evening out together was among my favorites in the script. It was two adults who were clearly attracted to each other, and who acknowledge it, but recognize the reality of their situation. As we were filming, I remarked to Fimognari that - for a movie about a haunted Ouija board - we were really getting away with murder. This was lovely, sweet, subtle character development, and no one was stopping me. After what we'd gone through on Before I Wake, I had to pinch myself.

My favorite scene of the film

It was set in a restaurant in the late 1960s - almost everyone in that room would realistically be smoking. Universal had been clear that there was to be absolutely no suggestion that cigarettes even existed in this world. But for the restaurant, I had to haze up the air. It was the only time I was questioned creatively, as there was immediate pushback.

"It's a restaurant," I said. "What if there's a fire in the kitchen, an entree got burned and that's why it's smokey?"

No one bought that for even a second. But they let me go ahead anyway. Man, I love that scene. And later, when it was all said and done, Jason Blum shocked me by telling me it was his favorite as well.

We wrapped the movie just before Halloween, and off we went into post. The holidays came and went, and Kate and I got married in February 2016. There was gentle pressure in the cutting room to make the film as tight as possible, and keep things short, but as with everything else, the pressure was decidedly gentle.

The movie's test screenings were very positive. People were very engaged by the story of the family, and the only issue people took seemed to be with the ending. It was a real downer to get so attached to everyone, only to have to kill Doris so brutally. The ending was, to put it mildly, very depressing - Father Tom was dead, Alice was dead, Doris was dead (and her mouth stitched up to stop the demonic voices), and Lina was condemned to the asylum. It was exactly what was required of us, and what was dictated by the first movie. But it hurt people's feelings.

My original ending had Lina in the asylum, crafting a handmade Ouija board out of her own blood, and trying to contact her dead sister. She tries and tries, but there is no answer. It is just silence. And we leave her saying "are you there? Are you there?" over and over again, as tears fall down her face. Doris wouldn't answer - in fact, Doris wouldn't answer for decades, when the first movie finally caught up to us. It was a haunting and sad ending, and I kind of loved it.

But test audiences are a fickle thing, and so we came back to tweak the ending, as the studio wanted one last scare to send us out on - not an unreasonable position, though it was a cliched one. We shot the film's current ending, with Doris' ghost on the ceiling of the asylum. It's as rote and impersonal a horror movie ending as I can imagine, but... well, it was Ouija 2, for crying out loud.

The movie we'd made up until that point had no business being as much fun as it was.

I remember the phone call I got from Blum after the movie was done. Universal had decided that they wouldn't call the movie Ouija 2 after all, they were worried about the number 2 making it feel less interesting.

Instead, they'd taken a big swing: the movie would be called Ouija: Origin of Evil.

I laughed out loud. I thought he was kidding. When it became obvious that he wasn't, I filed a protest. "It's not very good," I said. "It's cheesy. And not to put too fine a point on it, but the movie depicts neither the origin of the Ouija board, or of - um - Evil."

"Buddy, the title tested well. That's the way the cookie crumbles. Trust us, if the studio says it's Origin of Evil, it's Origin of Evil."

With a big theatrical release comes a lot of pomp and circumstance. There was a huge premiere for Ouija: Origin of Evil that October, and whatever nerves I had about the critical reception to the movie proved to be short-lived. People really enjoyed it. The overwhelming sentiment was that a sequel to a movie like Ouija frankly had no business being this interesting.

For all the pomp and circumstance, I missed it all. I didn't get to go to a premiere or walk the red carpet, as I was already in Alabama shooting Gerald's Game. On opening weekend, I took the cast and crew to a local theater in Daphne Alabama to see Ouija: Origin of Evil on the big screen.

The projection in this little backwoods theater was NOT good. The lamp was too dim (a common cost-saving strategy in some theater chains), and it was out of focus. I ran up to complain to the manager.

"The movie's soft focus on purpose," he said. "That's what the filmmakers wanted."

"No, it really isn't," I said.

The movie ultimately was not the runaway hit that the first Ouija was. Not even close, in fact.

To everyone's surprise, the teenagers just... didn't really show up. The first movie had grossed 103 MILLION dollars worldwide, but our little prequel only managed to do about 80. It was considered a modest success, not a hit by any means, but no failure. In the end, Universal decided maybe there wasn't a franchise to be had here after all.

So in the end, I had single-handedly revitalized and destroyed the Ouija franchise.

But man, believe when I tell you I've got no regrets whatsoever. I had the time of my life making that movie. Sure, some people groan about the ending, but that was kind of our only job - those were the cards we knew we had to turn over. Did you see everything that led up to that, though??? Did you see what we got away with?!

Since this movie, I've worked with a lot of people again. True to my word, I've put Henry Thomas in every single thing I've made since. Elizabeth Reaser came back to play Shirley in The Haunting of Hill House, and little Lulu Wilson - who was so wonderful as Reaser's daughter Doris - played the younger version of Shirley on that show. Lulu is also in The Fall of the House of Usher (and if you look closely, her original Ouija board and planchette are in frame with her.)

Kate sported a fun blonde hairdo for her small role in Ouija: Origin of Evil, and it was a really fun stepping stone between Hush and Hill House for her as an actor. There's a fun deleted scene where she goes home and murders her father, played by the great Sam Anderson. I really dug that scene, and I wish it was in there. You can see it on the blu-ray and DVD though, because even in a world where Netflix is trying to erase such things, Universal Pictures actually takes care of their movies with proper physical media releases.

I haven't yet found the next project to do with my friends at Blumhouse, but it's not for lack of trying, and my dance card has been booked solid since we wrapped this movie. It was an important step for my career, and their support was amazing. I know that we'll work together again, as soon as the timing is right.

Also, get this...

Ouija: Origin of Evil is my most successful movie.

Ever. Of all of them.

It did 82 million worldwide. That's better than Doctor Sleep, which did 72 million. It's better than Oculus, which did 44 million. The rest were all dumped to Netflix.

So yeah, Ouija: Origin of Evil is my most successful movie. Ain't that a trip?

We weren't trying to change the world, or reinvent the genre. I was making the second entry in a PG-13 franchise about an evil board game, and dammit if I didn't get to do everything I set out to do. There's an exuberance to the camera movement, the staging, the set design, and the lighting. There's an unbridled joy in this movie, and I smile whenever I think about it.

Up until this point in my career, every movie I had was hard-fought. Oculus was a trial by fire whose distribution deal was detonated days before it premiered. Before I Wake was a brutal experience both creatively and logistically. Hush was a labor of love and determination against all odds. But this one... man, this one reminded me why I wanted to make movies in the first place.

Because it can be really, really fucking fun.

[solarwonux]

Crop Tops and Tattoos || Wonwoo

soccer player!Wonwoo x f!reader

w.c: 3.2k

warnings: smut, shower sex, wonwoo soft!dom, oral sex (female receiving), friends with benefits, friends to lovers, public sex (kinda) I think that’s all. 

note: another repost I’m sorry lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, honestly I literally have like a bunch of works that literally take place in the same soccer!svt/college!svt universe but really have nothing to do with one another except for like 3 and they’re all spicy lol. Let me know if you’d want them and also enjoy this one and lmk your thoughts hehehe :)

masterlist

“W-What?”

“Come to my practice tonight.” You rubbed the sleep from your afternoon nap out of your eyes, listening to Wonwoo’s soft voice through the receiver. “I miss you, come to my practice tonight, we can hang out after.” Wonwoo all but begged, and you can almost picture the pout that was on his face.

“Woo, I can’t I have to finish my half of the group research project.”

“Perfect, I’ll help you. You’re my partner anyway. Please love, I just want to see you it’s been forever.”

“It’s been two days Woo.” You rolled your eyes sitting up on your couch, retreating your phone from your ear, checking the time, 7:30PM it read. So much for a thirty-minute nap, you sighed.

“Precisely why you should come to my practice…hold on a sec,” Wonwoo pulled the phone away from his ear and gave the lost student instructions to where the art history section of the library was located at. “Please, it will be worth it, I promise.” He whispered, cupping his mouth over the receiver, muffling his words a little making you laugh.

“I’ll think about it, get back to work.”

“Okay see you tonight.” He said a little too excited and hung up the phone, a wide smile appearing on your face, making your stomach perform a whole gymnastics routine in the process.

The relationship you and Wonwoo had was interesting, it had started off as mindlessly flirty with one another, graduated to ghost touches and during a hot summer’s day. Where the air conditioning in the library had leaked and instead of Joshua calling everyone to tell them to stay home, he had made sure everyone showed up. Or else. His exact words.

The touches and flirting had escalated to the point that Wonwoo had dragged you to the forgotten encyclopedia section of the library and pinned you against the dusty bookshelves.

Since then your relationship grew more to just sleeping with one another to let off some steam. He would hold your hand underneath the reception desk at the library, mindlessly drawing patterns and phrases onto your skin. He would walk you to class when he could, sometimes with a bubble tea in his hand, other times empty handed. If you were scheduled to close on days, he had an earlier shift, he would wait and walk you home holding you close while the two of you talked about your day. And as of recently, after sex he had started to spend the night, claiming he slept better with you by his side.

In your head Wonwoo was your boyfriend just without the label. It was also a conversation the two of you needed to have, but it was also one you feared because you didn’t want it to ruin it.

You ran through the gates of the soccer field and started up the steps of the aluminum bleachers, earning weird stares from the guys and girls that decided to attend SVT’s first soccer practice of the season. You sat down, out of breath, holding your bag close to your body as you tried your best to regulating your breathing. A reminder that maybe hitting the gym every once in a while, wasn’t such a bad idea, because clearly having mind blowing sex with Wonwoo wasn’t helping with building your stamina.

“Woo your girl’s here now you can finally start playing.”

“Get your head out of your ass Jun.” Wonwoo scoffed shoving Jun lightly, earning a laugh from the other boy. Wonwoo gazed over at you a knowing smile evident on his face and waved at you. You felt your cheeks heat up and your eyes grew wide as you took in his appearance.

Wonwoo had sworn to you that he would never wear his old jersey again, especially since Seungcheol and Jeonghan had deviously cut it up after their last game last season. Yet, here he was in all his glory. The shirt stopping just above his belly button, the sliver of his toned stomach peeking through and you felt the beat of your heart start to raise. You warily waved back, before placing your cold palm against your forehead trying to cool yourself down.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, lifting his hand up and threaded it through his dark locks. His shirt riding up, exposing himself more and you felt the air leave your lungs. It was stupid, you have been seeing him in a lot less clothing for months and in every angle. But for some reason now as he stood boring his soft eyes into yours as Jihoon shouted commands to his teammates. The sweat dripping down the sides of his face, his glasses fogged up slightly due to the humidity and a knowing smirk adorning his face, teasing you. And you felt like you were about to burst.

“Hey, Woo, stop ogling at your girlfriend and get into position.”

“I like your shirt.”

“Hmm, yeah?” A devilish snicker fell from his lips as he pushed up against the cool tile wall. You nodded dragging your nails across the sliver of teasing skin, leaving red marks behind in their wake making Wonwoo shudder. “So sexy.” He groaned lowly pressing his lips onto yours forcefully, his hands snaking around your waist down to your ass giving it a squeeze making you gasp. He pulled away from your lips and trailed them down your neck. He swiped his tongue over your sweet spot earning him a whimper from you.

“You gonna let me fuck you in the locker room showers?”

“If you ask nicely.” You breathed out playing with the elastic waist band of his shorts. Wonwoo laughed against your neck and bit down before pulling away. “Can I fuck you in the locker room showers please?” He pouted playfully, grabbing your thigh and wrapping it around his waist.

“God Woo, yes.” You wrapped your arms around his waist pulling him closer to you feeling his growing cock against your aroused pussy. “As you wish darling.” He mumbled pecking your lips repeatedly before pulling away from your body, making you whine at the loss of his body heat.

Wonwoo chuckled sinking down to his knees, your eyes hooded with pleasure, feeling the wetness between your legs grow. He left teasing kisses down your clothed thighs, his thumbs hooking underneath the waist band of your leggings dragging them along with him. “Woo my shoes.”

“I was getting there, you’re so impatient sometimes.” He mumbled sitting back on his knees tapping your calf silently telling you to raise your leg. “It’s your fault…how am I supposed to be patient when you always look so good.” You obliged watching as he slowly took of your shoe and throwing it outside of the shower stall along with your sock. He repeated the process with your other leg before attaching his lips against your clothed thigh and left gentle open-mouthed kisses up your leg.

“I guess it’s time I teach you how to be patient.” He smirked pulling down your leggings along with your panties in one go. He threw them aside, placing a kiss against your hip bone, where the small stick and poke infinity sign tattoo he had made after a long night of immoral rendezvous. “Still can’t believe you let me talk you into giving you this.” He mumbled giving it another kiss and stood up.

“I wanted a tattoo but didn’t want to experience the pain.”

“It still hurt you, I had to stop, that’s why it’s all crooked and unfinished.”

“But it’s my favorite.” You whispered, his dark lust filled eyes boring into yours as he slowly started to take off his shorts and underwear, exposing himself to you. No matter how many times the two of you slept together, the sight of his body always had your heart beating out of time. He was perfect, an Adonis carved out of marble and to your surprise he was all yours.

“Don’t take off your shirt.” You whispered reaching and grabbing a fistful of the cloth and pulling him to you. “I want you to fuck me with it on.” You eyed him, a teasing finger running down his chest. “You’re so naughty today.” He laughed grabbing your hand and moved it up to his lips kissing each of your knuckles his sensual gaze lingering on yours. You felt your breathing pick up, the heat trailing down your thighs. “Please touch me.” You whimpered pulling your hand away and taking your shirt of throwing it behind him.

“Not yet I need to shower, I’m all sweaty from practice.” He winked, his hand finding the shower handle and turning it. A gasp left your lips as you felt the cold start to coat your heated bodies. “Now behave princess.” He kissed you hard, running his tongue over your bottom lip asking for entrance in which you granted. His hips flirting with yours and all you wanted to do was get down on your knees and beg him to use you in any and every single way possible. He pulled away detaching the shower head sending you a wink before putting it against your clit. The harsh water jets sending a sweet wave of pleasure up your spine.

“You’re going to cum like this and then I’ll fuck you.” He mumbled, before sinking down on to his knees again. He kept the shower head in place and alternated in kissing your thighs. Desperate whimpers falling out of your mouth. Wonwoo hooked one of your legs on top of his shoulder and bit down on your thigh, sucking making you yelp. “Your body reacts so well to me.” He kissed up your thigh sucking another love bite next to your tattoo before pulling away, shifting the shower head slightly. The sensation sending a new wave of pleasure up your body making you moan.

“W-Wonwoo, mmm, please.”

“Please what?” He teased the sound of a smirk evident in his voice and you’ve never wanted to hit someone so badly before. “I-I need you please.” You cried out, the tip of his index finger teasing the entrance of your pussy. “Yeah…you need me baby?” He chuckled moving your arousal around coating his finger with it before pulling away and bringing it up to his mouth, moaning sinfully as he licked it clean

“Y-Yes need your fingers, or mouth anything p-please W-Woo.” You raised your hips trying to grind yourself against the water, searching for a release in every way you could. “I’ll give you what you want but you can’t touch me.” He tsked giving you a pointed look. You whined nodding your head grabbing onto the smoothness of the shower wall. He ran his hot tongue against the lips of your pussy, the sensation mixing with the coldness of the water sent shivers up your spine.

“You always taste so sweet.” He mumbled against you flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit. Your mouth hanging open as your fingers itched to touch him and push him against you even further. “L-Let me touch you?” You breathed out your nails digging themselves into the skin of your stomach. He nodded against you repeatedly licking strides up your lips before attaching his mouth on your clit. By now the shower head was long forgotten as it fell from his hand, hitting the shower wall with a loud clank making you jump.

You threaded your fingers in his short hair tugging at the roots making him moan against you. He wrapped his arms around your ass pulling you closer as he lost himself eating you out like a starved man. “B-Baby I’m close.” You moaned arching your back against the wall as he lightly bit down on your clit and pulled away. He licked his lips savoring you and adjusted his round glasses earning a lighthearted laugh from you. “Don’t laugh or I won’t help you cum.” He grumbled pressing his index and middle fingers against your entrance and slowly sinking them into you immediately curling them up in search for your g-spot. A satisfied smile etching across his face as you moaned out the second he found it.

Wonwoo attached his lips onto your clit again, this time wasting no time and sucking on it roughly, his fingers moving inside you at a fast pace. The coil forming at the pit of your stomach, your hands tugging on his hair, your hips bucking against his mouth and fingers. He moaned feeling your clench around his fingers, giving him the motivation to pick of his pace, the pleasure getting too much for your body to handle and before you knew you came undone screaming out his name. He helped you ride out your orgasm, desperately licking up your release making your body twitch from the oversensitivity.

“You did so well baby.” He mumbled before pulling away, licking his lips moaning in approval as the remnants of your arousal hit his taste buds. He thrusted his fingers a few more times before pulling them out making you whine, missing the way they felt inside of you. He chuckled licking them clean before standing up.

“Think you can give me one more?” He asked giving your lips multiple pecks and then your cheeks. You laughed pushing his face away resting your tired body against the wall of the shower.

“Yes.”

“Can I ask you something?” You crossed your arms in front of you holding up the towel Wonwoo had wrapped around your body. Wonwoo hummed handing you his extra t-shirt as well as the sweatpants you had left at his place weeks ago. How he knew to bring them along with him was beyond you, but you decided to save that question for another day.

“Why do the guys call me your girl.” You emphasized standing up from the bench and started getting dressed. Wonwoo closed his locker resting his back against it drinking you in slowly, making you feel a little insecure. “Jeonghan saw you leave my apartment one day and texted the group chat to share the tea.” He rolled his eyes using quotations around the last word of his sentence before pushing himself away from the locker. “Now the guys think we’re dating.”

“But you never corrected them?” You tugged his shirt over your head gathering your semi dry clothes and folded them. “Do you want me to correct them?” He placed his hand on your cheek moving your head gently to meet his eyes.

“I-I mean yeah, we aren’t dating you made it very clear that you weren’t looking for a relationship when this started.”

“I wish I could eat my words.” He whispered running his thumb over your swollen lips. “I think I’m past just wanting to fuck you; I want more.”

You felt the air leave your lungs; your cheeks heated up and you desperately searched for a new point of focus because the intensity evident in his gaze was overwhelming. “We should go, I need to finish my half of the project.” You picked up your drying clothes and your bag and rounded the corner of the bench you had been sitting at.

“You don’t want to be more?” Wonwoo caught up with you grabbing your free hand to stop you from walking and held it close to his chest. “I do, I’m just scared you’ll end up regretting it if we ever do try to be more.” You confessed trailing your eyes down his body and stopping at your interlocked hands.

“I won’t, you make me feel so good an—”

“Exactly, I make you feel good. All you’ve ever known is how it feels like to be with me naked. You don’t know what it’s like to actually be with me.” You pulled your hand away. A frustrated sigh spiraling out of his lungs as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Your worst habit is jumping to conclusions.” He mumbled lowly tugging at the roots of his hair. It didn’t feel nearly as good as it felt when you would do it to him, but that was something he would ever confess out loud. “I want to be with you in every way possible, I know what I said before and if I would take back my words I would because that was before I found myself falling for you.” Wonwoo closed the gap between the two of you holding you tightly. His confession had your mind running nonstop, the weight of his words making their way into your heart and finding a home. You hugged him tightly, burying your face into his chest. “Is that a yes?” Wonwoo asked confusion laced in his voice as he hugged you back running his hands down your back soothingly. You hummed nodding your head taking a whiff of his lavender body wash and somehow it felt like home.

“You can’t just say things like that so casually.” You groaned raising your head from his chest placing a kiss on his chin. “Give me a warning next time.”

“Would you have preferred reading the essay I wrote about it instead.”

“Wonwoo stop fucking around you didn’t do that.” You scoffed pushing away from him and started down the hallway to entrance of the locker room. “Yes, I did it’s fifteen pages long, I even used citations.” He yelled following you a few steps behind, the teasing tone in his voice made you doubt his word. But he did once write a whole essay on how Soonyoung was the worst co-captain in the history of co-captains because he had beat him in Mario Kart.

“You have two options I can read it for you tonight after you’re done with your half of the project or I can read it for you on your wedding day.” You choked on your saliva making him laugh. He patted your back gently before pushing open the door to the locker room.

“What the fuck Woo, our weddi—”

“Finally, we’ve been waiting out here for hours. I’m starving.” Hoshi exclaimed throwing his hands up in the air before starting down hallway. “I told you guys to leave.” Wonwoo sighed rolling his eyes and extended his hand for you to take.

“Half of us did once they heard you guys fucking.” Vernon shrugged shoving his hands in his pockets. Your cheeks started to heat up, you prayed to every god out there to do you a solid and open the ground up and have it swallow you whole. “And you guys didn’t?”

“Nah, you’re paying for dinner remember, plus we made a bet while we waited.” Vernon took two long strides over and placed his hand on top of Wonwoo’s shoulder. “I never expected you to have a daddy kink and now I lost fifty bucks to Jeonghan and Dino each, that’s a hundred in total.” He shook his head and walked away running to catch up with Hoshi.

“I don’t have a dad—”

“You know bathrooms have echoes right?” Dino pushed himself way from the wall and started walking away. “We heard the two of you loud and clear, so you can’t deny it, Jeonghan even took a voice note just in case you wanted to deny it.”

“Baby you’re going to have to visit me in jail cause I’m about to commit homicide.” Wonwoo placed a chaste kiss against your head and let go of your hand and charged over to Dino. He turned around laughing before running down the hallway leaving you behind with a smirking Jeonghan.

“Honestly, I just hope you guys disinfected the stall the two of you used.”

[hansolmates]

popular-ish | (04)

pairing; popular!jk x normie!reader summary; you are way out of jungkook’s league. Or is it the other way around? genre/warnings; self-deprecating language, your typical college!au, jungkook is a piner, shy!oc, oc just wants some damn pizza, maaa yyybeeee eventual fwb 2 lovers au, oc is also a little cold-cutie but who can blame them, dang how did this get so angsty? this is comparable to cher’s reflection arc in clueless–jk’s a doof in this one :((( w.c; 1.1k a/n; happy saturyay y’all :) 

taglist is OPEN: @jiminskth​ @scalubera​ @aretha170​ @apollukee​ @livewittykid​ @papamochiissad​ @koo-zy​ @honeyj00ns​ @iflruledtheworld​ @betysotelo18​ @zeharilisharaban​  @loversometimesafighter​ @mukeovernetflix​  @betysotelo18​ @koochiekoo​ @shubhiixxx​ @hermiones-enchantment​ @iamnamjoonsbxtch​ @gracehiii​ @tea-n-kookies​ @iamnamjoonsbxtch​ @codeinebelle​ @ggukkieland​ @celestialflamefairy​ @dammit-jjk​ @kurochan3​ @sunsetsnsirens-blog​

unable to tag: @btsfanficsrepost @monvieesdaebak

“So in a Think-Win-Win situation, why do you think empathy and maturity are large factors in a high success rate?” 

“Uh.” 

“Jeon?” you look up from your lashes, and Jungkook can see the way the yellow lamp puts a little golden glimmer to your eyes, “Jeon, did you even study?” 

“I—I uh yeeess?” 

He can’t help it, feeling out of water as he babbles for an answer like a fish gasping for air. You can’t help the subtle roll of your eyes, masked by you picking up your textbook to peer closely into the text. It hurts him, and he suddenly feels tiny and sweaty despite bench pressing two-hundred and taking a quick shower an hour before. 

Jungkook notes that you’re also the only one who brought their textbook, the rest of the study group either coming back from lacrosse or just decided not to. 

“C’mon,” Jimin smiles lazily, bumping his knee with yours. Your eyes shift to where his skin makes contact with yours, “we’ve had practice all day. We’re tired. The cheerleaders had a rough evening too,” he sends a wink to Sooyoung, who just scoffs with her berry tinted lips, “I’m pretty sure you finished the project anyway, so why are we here?” 

Jungkook watches the way your legs press together, black leggings hugging your thighs. He doesn’t mean to stare, he probably looks like a weirdo if not for the fact you’re so focused on burning stare to Jimin. It’s then he realizes he knows you. A hookup, maybe? A friend of a friend he was introduced to in-between practices? He isn’t sure. He really fucked up not noticing you the second time around, and he’s not sure you’ll give him a second chance. 

Instead of biting back, you flush. You shrink in the uncomfortable wooden seat, looking at Jimin with furrowed brows. Jungkook squeezes his hands between the kangaroo pocket of his lacrosse jersey, wishing he could instead squeeze his hands between the two apples of your cheeks. It’s unfair how adorable you are, even in a situation as fucked up as this. Unfortunately it’s still majorly unfair to you, being paired in unnecessarily hard core-elective with three prime procrastinators and D1 athletes. The professor must’ve done it on purpose, hoping you’d knock some sense into them.

You frown, and press your lips together as you stuff your things in your Mickey Mouse tote bag. In goes your textbook, then your MacBook, and finally your fuzzy pink pen. “Right,” you mutter under your breath, most of the fire directed towards Jimin, “because I orchestrated and worked around all your schedules just for fun.” 

Jungkook’s hands twitch by his sides, watching you walk out of the library without so much as a glance towards their table. He shakes his head towards his teammate, “You didn’t have to be such a dick about it,” and grabs his phone, following you out. 

Cool air slaps Jungkook’s face, and he immediately finds you hunched over your phone on a bench. You’re not even trying to make a getaway, legs spread comfortably as you scroll the Grubhub menu for the nearest restaurant. He calls your name, and you jolt out of your relaxed state. You look up at him, startled at the way your name rolls off his lips. 

“Hey,” Jungkook says, sitting down next to you. 

You blink at him, confused. “Jeon? Did you need something?” 

“I wanna help you with the project.” 

“Didn’t seem to contribute much back there.” 

Ouch. “Okay, but I’m a really good listener and I can follow directions. Just tell me what to do and consider it done,” Jungkook usually prides himself as a smooth talker, but now he feels like he’s grappling on strings when talking to you, “that’s… what a Think-Win-Win situation is, right?” 

A small huff of a grin ghosts on your lips, and he smiles wide. “Not really,” you answer smoothly, “but it’s a start.” 

He takes that as his in, and immediately rolls with it. He follows your pace, trying to slow down because you’re so much smaller than him and he’s so excited that you’re not immediately pushing him away. 

“After we finish, it’ll only be like 10PM,” he follows you to your first destination, a local pizzeria. “It’s a Friday night, and I was wondering if you wanted to go to a party with me? It’s for  Hoseok. I don’t know if you know him but he’s sort of my captain and we could celebrate finishing the project together that way?” 

“No thank you,” you reply to Jungkook, and then you point at whatever item is on the menu to the counter lady, “and please have extra chilli flakes on the side.” 

You said no to him, and it didn’t even take a heartbeat for you to think about his offer. “Wait, why?” 

Your smile twists into something undecipherable, “Not my crowd,” you eyes scan him briefly, taking in the clean lacrosse jersey and the baggy sweatpants, “besides, you’d leave me within the first five minutes of arriving. And even if you didn’t, girls would probably steal you anyway.”

Jungkook feels a little gross at your blunt honesty. He’s insulted, to be bunched up and lumped with a bunch of popular jocks and cheerleaders and all the in-between. It isn’t fair for you to be making assumptions about him when you barely know him and he’s trying to let you get to know each other a little better.

When Jungkook looks down however, his hands are empty because he didn’t bother to bring the textbook and materials he was supposed to bring. His hair is still damp from the shower and not blow-dried, proof that he rushed to the library because he was late to the meeting you spent all week arranging. His mouth is shut because he didn’t defend you when Jimin called you out in the library, even though he knew he and his friends were in the wrong. 

He hates how much you’re right. It’s like you’ve stabbed him with a fleet of truths, mapping out his night down to a T. His habits are a notorious connect-the-dot puzzle, cultivated over the course of four years: whoever he’d bring would escape his thoughts, too absorbed in how everyone compliments the All-Star’s record last match. Girls and boys alike will flock to him like bees to honey, reveling in him and he’ll lap up the attention. He’ll get requests for a quick fuck, and if it’s a nice night, he’ll oblige. 

And what, he expects you to think this time is different? 

You’re pretty, and smart, and Jungkook’s undeserving of you. 

“I’ll see you Monday, Jeon,” you say breezily, brushing shoulders. He gets a whiff of your hair and the scent of fresh bread as you walk away with your pizza pie. 

[schleierkauz]

Some Highlights from the 03.05 Stream

As usual, here’s some interesting bits of the last Cornelia Funke Q&A. I tried to structure it all a bit better this time but these talks are pretty chaotic sooo... bear with me. There’s more interesting stuff under the read more, I just put it there because it was getting so long. Anything in (brackets) is my own commentary. I hope you enjoy! :)

Inkworld

Q: What's the deal with the death bond between Mo and Dustfinger and will it be relevant in the new book? A: Since Dustfinger is probably immortal now, he’s been operating on a different level than Mo who is very much still mortal. Other than that, Cornelia doesn't want to reveal too much about TCoR for now. She worked on it the day before the stream, and she shows us the notebook she uses for it.

She thought she had a pretty good idea of what the story was going to be but more and more things keep happening and the book is already looking to be a lot longer and more complex than she intended.

- She will focus on TCoR once the move to Italy is complete and she's very excited about that since the Inkworld is essentially Magical Italy. She can't wait to sit in Volterra and write about Ombra.

- The TCoR sketch book might just be published at some point as a sort of bonus making-of book since it's already full of illustrations and other fun stuff

(That looks like the witch character, doesn’t it? I wonder who the other woman is... And god, I wish I could actually read the text. :/)

- The Inkworld exists around 1360 by our understanding of time

- The Mystery Chapter I translated ages ago is still canon! More info on that in the Reckless section

Q: Will we ever get to read the "original" Inkheart by Fenoglio? A: No, never. Cornelia's writing style is too different from Fenoglio's and she wouldn't be able to pull it off. 

However! Cornelia still hopes for an Inkworld TV show that would begin long before the story of the first book. She already has a notebook all about Dustfinger's and the Black Prince's childhoods, how they met each other as well as other characters such as Roxane etc. Fenoglio didn't care much for their backstories so Cornelia feels like she can explore them without stepping on his toes.

- A long time ago, Cornelia had an editor who thought Dustfinger was a bad character (lmao. imagine being that wrong.)

Reckless

Q: Will one of the short stories Cornelia wants to write about the Mirrorworld be about Nerron's mother? A: Interesting idea! She will consider it.

Q: Will Cornelia include African and/or Indigenous stories in the Mirrorworld? A: Yes! She planned to do it in the sixth book but right now it looks like it might happen in the fifth, so she's trying to figure out how to include South-American fairytales alongside African and Indigenous ones. She wants to include those stories through characters we meet along the way, without necessarily taking the story to those places directly. Or maybe she'll write a separate book entirely to do those fairytales justice. 

- The Mirrorworld exists around 1860 by our time

- Cornelia feels like there will be a lot of Mirrorworld spin-offs because she keeps having ideas and loves writing in that world

Q: Did Spieler (Player(?)), when he was in the "real" world, know about Capricorn and Fenoglio's Inkheart book? A: The silver book that makes people into silvertongues was created by Spieler. For a while he found it very convenient to travel the worlds through books but eventually he realised that books tend to develop a will of their own, which is why he ultimately decided to travel via mirrors. He probably knows about Fenoglio but Cornelia doesn't think he'd care much about Capricorn since he's playing in an entirely different league of villainy.

- Cornelia just signed a contract for a Reckless TV show

Cornelias new Farm in Italy

Q: Will she have animals on the new farm as well? A: Probably not! Right now she's more interested in befriending wild animals. Her dogs will stay with her but otherwise she wants to focus on wild animals as well as wild flowers. She wants to share her garden with any animal that stops by - including, hopefully, the occasional feral cat.

- Cornelia is getting into animation! She will work with a friend of hers who is a teacher in that field to create a little stop motion/animation studio on the farm so artists can bring their characters to life in a new way and create short movies.

Q: How can artists apply to be invited to the farm? A: Cornelia doesn't want people to apply directly, she'd rather leave it up to chance and fate. Most of her artists were recommended to her by friends or former colleagues and this method is working very well. She encourages people to post their work on the internet or send it to her via her website or twitter or something, she just doesn't want to hold contests regularly because it would be overwhelming and she doesn't want to have to reject people. Also, it's aimed at young artists who are just starting out and it’s mainly for girls/women, although not exclusively.

Side note, she plans to have another farm in Germany (probably in Schleswig-Holstein) and there will be other projects that happen there.

Q: Will it be possible to visit the farms, will they sell tickets? A: Cornelia doesn't want to sell tickets and definitely doesn't want "Disneyland vibes". The Mirror Farm (in Germany) isn't supposed to make money but she rather wants it to be a gift to her readers. They'll have to somehow limit how many people show up at once but there will be "open days" where anyone can just show up. Cornelia also wants to offer workshops or something similar herself once or twice a year, where people would have the chance to meet her in person.

Bonus: Life Lessons with Cornelia

Q: Does Cornelia have any advice for people in their mid-twenties who are not quite sure what to do with their lives? A: Figure out what you want to do and follow your heart because being stuck doing something you don't care about at all will make you miserable. And then it comes down to discipline and hard work. You might never get rich doing what you love but someone in their 20s is still young enough to try all kinds of different things and find a path that works. The important thing is actually following through instead of just endlessly thinking about what could be. Travel the world, try different jobs. Don't be fooled into thinking you have to go to university/college, that's nonsense. Knowing how to build a sturdy table or plant a good herb garden makes someone an artist in Cornelia's eyes. Listen to advice but don't blindly follow it. Don't be afraid to change your dreams. Make mistakes and learn from them. You live in one of the richest countries in the world, you won't starve or die on the streets so be grateful and be brave.

Misc.

- The three of them spend the first eight minutes of the stream telling us to visit this website and check out the cool bridge their bookshop is built on and the blackbird that moved into the store

- Cornelia's daughter got married and it was beautiful :)

- Cornelia is looking forward to moving to Italy and being closer to "us" and European artists. She says she'll miss California but she is incredibly tired of all the wild fires.

- Cornelia is now fully vaccinated 

- Cornelia is working on a book about two girls. One used to live in Germany in the 40s-50s, was blind and collected plants from all over the world with her father. She would write letters about those plants to her sister, and those letters are found one day by a girl from Brooklyn. She starts to go looking for the plants the letters are about in the botanical garden. Cornelia has an assistant who keeps sending her pictures from that botanical garden and it's a very fun project because it's very rooted in the real world yet Cornelia still gets to tell a story about a friendship that takes place through letters. She hopes to have finished it by August

- The Wild Chicks movie might just actually happen and everyone's excited about it

- An animated Igraine Ohnefurcht movie is in the works

- So is an animated Geisterritter/Ghost Knight movie

- Cornelia keeps losing books and other important things in the mail and it is pretty infuriating

- Cornelia recommends the book "Sand Talk" and once again says white people should be careful about not speaking over marginalised groups in the name of protecting them

[narcissasdaffodil]

Day 2: @writersmonth

Prompt: Cold

Tag list: @ariendiel @eskiix @follies-fixture @kiki-the-creator @simonsmontjoy

Marisol got ready for the party. She was ready for her summer to start for real, it felt strange to have finished five years of school already. She only had her A Levels to go, and Lottie was leaving for college which meant that she wouldn’t see her in school anymore. Dating her best friend was one of the best decisions possible, she was so happy with her. Not even her sister Isabel could ruin that feeling for her.

They had finished school early on a Friday due to the leavers’ do, and she had rushed home to get ready for the after party. Lucie was going to pick her up, and they were going to go together. She was strangely excited, she felt butterflies multiplying in her stomach.

She changed out of her uniform, putting it in the washing basket. She grabbed a black jumper, t-shirt and a short skirt, choosing to keep her outfit simple. Her skirt was shorter than she was used to, and she decided to not wear tights with it due to it being warm outside. She left her hair loose, neatening up her fringe. She studied herself in the mirror, choosing to put on a little lipgloss and mascara. She put her phone in a small bag, pushing her glasses up her nose. Lucie was expected to be here around seven ish, and she was nearly ready already. She grabbed a pair of boots from under the bed and slipped them on.

In no time at all, she heard a knock at the door and grabbed her bag, slipping it over her shoulder. She grabbed her key and rushed downstairs, opening the door. Lucie smiled at her, the other girl made her feel slightly insecure and overdressed. Lucie was just in a strappy top and a wraparound skirt, and she found herself feeling too hot in her clothes.

“You look lovely! You won’t need the jumper, it’s going to be hot in the house. House parties tend to be, anyway.”

Marisol quickly took it off, bringing it back to her room and left it there. Part of her wanted to keep it, she did get cold easily, but she talked herself out of it. She ran a brush through her hair, and grabbed her bag, leaving again and locking the door behind her.

Her parents were both out with Isabel, they only cared about her sister’s results. You were nothing but a ghost to them, and you’d given up trying to pretend otherwise. You were perfect, but it was never entirely enough.

Marisol shook her head, snapping out of her thoughts. She learnt to smile and nod, pretending to be listening to Lucie talk. Her heartbeat was echoing in her ears and she couldn’t ignore the feeling that she wasn’t meant to go to this party. Lottie had asked her, and she would follow the other girl anywhere.

“Umm...will Hannah be here? I know Isabel isn’t, but I hope Hannah isn’t either.” Marisol asked, accidentally cutting off Lucie.

“Hannah’s probably coming. But I’ll watch out for you anyway, don’t worry. Besides, Lottie’s not friends with her, so as long as you stay with her, you’ll be fine. I know you haven’t been to one of these parties before, but you’ll enjoy this one, believe me.”

Marisol nodded in response, forcing a smile to her face. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”

She felt a strange omen in the air and shivered. She was already getting cold, but she knew she couldn’t turn back now. Lucie grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “We’re here. Lottie’s probably already there.” Lucie raised her hand and knocked on the door.

When it opened, the immediate sound of pounding music took Marisol by surprise and she blinked. Lucie had already disappeared into the party and Marisol followed, keeping her head up and scanning for Lottie.

The house was packed, pretty much everyone in her year was inside. She decided to go to the kitchen first and made her way through the door. A conversation halted as she walked through the door, and her breath caught in her throat. Oh shit. Not Olivia. You made a complete fool of yourself in front of her in French, she even had to switch partners as you couldn’t speak without stuttering.

“So...you showed your face here then. I didn’t expect that you would, you’re too much of a teacher’s pet for that. I don’t understand how you’re dating Lottie of all people, you two are polar opposites.” Olivia laughed, shifting long dark hair over her shoulder.

Marisol’s mouth opened and shut, and she blushed. She cursed how awkward she was, just the sight of Olivia was enough to make her small again. It was humiliating to not even be able to do a full sentence around her.

“H...have you seen Lottie? I’m just l...looking for her.” Marisol forced the words from her throat, not making eye contact with Olivia. Olivia giggled in response, turning to her friend. Both of them were laughing and Marisol felt her stomach churn in response. Something about the look in their eyes was wild, and it made her uncomfortable.

“No. Keep looking, you’re bound to find her.” Both of them cracked up again as Marisol made her way into the living room, dodging through groups of people. There were a lot of people dancing, but no one she could recognise as being Lottie. She noticed a tall blonde standing together with her sister and she looked away, making her way outside. Stay away from Isabel. And if Astrid’s friends with Isabel, that adds her. Neither of them would help with this stupid mess.

It was cold, and she shivered. There was only a cluster of smokers and she hurried back inside again. She was panicking slightly and hurried back into the kitchen.

“Just go upstairs if you’re desperate to find Lottie. She’s definitely there.” Olivia called over to her. There was a smirk on her face, which Marisol tried not to focus on.

She hurried upstairs, nearly tripping over a kissing couple on the stairs. She opened the first door she noticed when upstairs and stopped in her tracks. No. No, it can’t be her. It must be another blonde with Hannah, right?

As she tried to reassure herself, she felt her heart shattering in her chest. She moved forward, eyes fixated on the kissing couple. She felt tears spill down her cheeks and she covered her mouth, muffling her sobs.

“We’re over. I can’t believe you’d cheat on me with her, I thought better of you. My worst enemy, really!” Marisol’s voice was all over the place, and she refused to look directly at Lottie and Hannah. She turned on her heel, tripping over the doorstop and came down hard on the floor as she wiped out. She wasn’t hurt, just her pride and her heart. She curled herself into a ball, shaking violently.

Hannah laughed at her, she had separated from Lottie. She had snapped photos of Marisol in her state, and disappeared with her phone. Lottie was about to follow her, but went up to Marisol and put her hand on her shoulder. Marisol flinched away.

“L… leave me alone! You play with people’s feelings, did I ever mean anything to you? No, I don’t want to know… You betrayed me, I’m certain I mean nothing to you.” Marisol’s words were muffled from her sobs and the curtain of hair in front of her face.

Lottie sighed. “Mari, come on. It was one drunk kiss. Nothing else.”

Marisol forced herself to stand up, brushing down her skirt. Her phone beeped in her bag, and she noticed she was tagged in a video with a set of photos, showing how much of a mess she was. Without her realising, someone had been recording the moment her life fell completely apart.

She shivered, her teeth clicking together. She hurried downstairs, disappearing outside and ignoring the other people at the party. It felt like all of them were staring at her, were enjoying her misery.

She hurried back home, sneaking into her house and curled up on her bed. She quickly blocked Lottie on social media and blocked her number, deleting it from her contacts. She wished her friendship with Lottie could be deleted as easily, but she was stuck with it being a permanent stain on her heart. You were so stupid to believe for a minute that she was different. She never cared about you, you meant nothing to her.

[dannyphantom-rewrite]

Character ref for; Jack, Maddie and Jazz,

Art by @gally-hin / @gally-hin-phantom

Okay so first off; in terms of Actual redesign, I didn't change a whole lot. I'm actually very fond of Jack and Maddie's design's, my only real issue was with their proportions. Like...look as a lady person who is also thiCC I do not have a fucking wasp thin waist and I'm sure I'm not the only one, lmao. As for Jack? Godamnit he looked like a brick on toothpicks. Just Let him be a fucking Bara man! Anyway of course I asked Gally to do this one bc they're fucking great at drawing different body types

I also cannot and will not take credit for Jazz's outfit. I didn't have any issue with her canon clothes aside from them being a bit plain, so what she's wearing here was literally pulled straight off of her original concept art, which I will link here.

Anyway, getting to the Actual character lore now, let's start with

Maddie Fenton

-Full name is Madeline (I haven't decided on a maiden name yet)

-Born and raised on a farm in Arkansas, had a southern accent that she trained herself out of in college bc it was just one more reason for people not to take her seriously. Still sometimes uses "y'all" completely unironically bc old habits die hard.

-She has a really big family, and they're proud of her accomplishments but feel like she's wasting her talent studying ghosts, because really, up until the Fenton portal was up and running there wasn't even any solid proof they existed. Her sister Alicia is the one outlier there, and even if she doesn't understand, it she completely supports her.

-She majored in engineering and minored in psychology at Wisconsin EDU. Her, Jack and Vlad were all in the same engineering class, and that's where they met.

-Maddie is particularly interested in how ghosts think, analysing their behavior, their motives. Not only that, but they aren't just dead people with unfinished business, they've built an entire culture in the Ghost Zone that is completely seperate from humanity, and she wants to understand all of it.

-skilled marksman and 9th degree black belt, (which is. The highest fucking level there is holy shit? I looked it up after I saw it on her wiki page.)

Jack Fenton

-He's from Minnesota (Amity park is in Illinois and him and Maddie didn't move there until after they got married) 

-okay, "but why minnesota specifically" you ask? Because. I crave. Foot ball discourse. 

-minnesota vikings vs green bay packers guys do you UNDERSTAND WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS 

-The funny thing is that Jack only watches football casually while Vlad is a fucking die hard so when these two got together to see a game it was like....

-Jack: Here to chill and have a good time.

-Vlad: Primed and ready to start a fist fight at any given moment.

-I am never not going to be salty about how Canon Jack was portrayed like a complete moron 99% percent of the time. Like no...theres a difference between Actual Stupid and ADHD induced dumbass-ery.

-Am I saying Jack Fenton has ADHD? Yes. why? Because I also have ADHD and I have always vibed So Hard with his Character.

-Jack is loud and easily excited about things that interest him. He's impulsive and fidgety and yeah, a bit absent minded. He has a mouth that clearly runs so much faster than his head. His train of thought doesn't get derailed so much as it stops and takes several different detours on the way to it's final destination.

-and that's only the tip of the iceberg, really, I'd need an entire essay to get into this completely, but I just really relate.

-Jacks skill-set / interests regarding ghosts vary a bit from Maddie's, most notably in the sense that he doesn't believe that they're static entities already set in their ways, completely incapable of change.

-Jack majored in engineering and minored in Biology at Wisconsin EDU.

-Jack's work with tech is a bit hit or miss. He definitely HAS the engineering skills, but the intrest isn't always there and he's constantly jumping back and forth between different projects. He tends to focus on the concept work and schematics and leave most of the assembly to Maddie as a result. It's an arrangement that works well for them, and has drastically decreased the number of unintentional explosions in the lab.

-A lot of Jack's work tends to revolve around ghostly biology and Ectoplasm, figuring out how ghosts are made, what makes them tick, what the hell Ectoplasm Actually Is, how it's used as an energy source, ect.

-and yes, that does also mean he handles the dissections.

-See that facial scar? Yeah, that's not actually there at the start of the series rewrite but it's very important for plot reasons so I had to include it. Can't say much more on the subject because SPOILERs owo.

Jasmine Fenton

-Jazz is a 18 years old, and a senior at Casper high.

-Which means she prepping to go away to college and won't be around to keep an eye on Danny.

-Obviously that doesn't mean I'm just writing her out of the story, oh no. Know why? Because she's also gonna go to Wisconsin EDU. ya know who else is in Wisconsin? Fuckin' Vlad.

-Jazz is autistic, Although she passes for neurotypical in part due to symptoms being completely over looked in girls due to gender stereotyping and also the fact that she doesn't have any special interests that are considered " "too weird.""

- Her hyperfixation with psychology started at a young age in an effort to better understand people, and social/emotional cues and all that.

-Jazz is well liked at school but she's not popular or apart of any specific group or clique. She's very kind and compassionate to people, and just about everyone knows her, but you'd be hard pressed to find someone who actually Considered her a friend. Except maybe Spike.

-I'm gonna have to give spike his own Character ref at some point, but he's this scary looking goth kid that's been held back twice. He's actually super sweet, just really fuckin' quiet and anxious. Him and jazz kinda ended up gravitating towards each other. She might do most of the talking, but they look out for each other.

-its not like jazz doesn't try to socialize, but it's difficult and she's found it much easier and less stressful to just. Keep to herself and let her interactions with her peers stay shallow and superficial. Sure, it's lonely sometimes but it's better than constantly worrying about saying the wrong thing or making some other misstep.

-One of Jazz's other special interests is football, and it's not so much the players or the game as it is the strategy of it? Started out as one of those things you do to bond with your dad, and she ended up getting really into it.

-She absolutley winds up getting into stupidly intense discussions with Vlad about it, too, lmao.

-Her and Danny probably bonded over SBNation bc that shit has both sentient satellites and ridiculously complex football mechanics.

-She's completely oblivious to the fact, but Dash has a massive crush on her bc holy shit this girl understands football (hey bud your toxic masculinity is showing put that shit away)

-I mentioned that Danny was in Cheer for a bit in middle school so it makes sense that she'd also be pushed into doing some kind of extracurricular activity.....so.....she was in a martial arts class for a bit thanks to Maddie and has a good grasp on self defense.

I think that's everything? I feel like I'm leaving things out tho? Idk if I did I'll come back and add on to this later and also pls don't hesitate to ask questions bc it really helps me flesh things out better.

[canarygirl1017]

Ghosted Chapter 2

Pairing: Reader / Jungkook, Reader / Taehyung (past relationship, friends to lovers to friends)

Genre:  College!au, fluff, angst, supernatural drama, smut, friends to lovers, emotional trauma, hurt/comfort

Length:  9, 806k words

Warnings:  language, episodes of anxiety, panic attacks, sexual themes in later chapters.

Summary:  Living in a world full of things only you have the ability to see, growing up with Jungkook has been your island amidst the chaos. But when your best friend makes an impossible request, your friendship is fractured, and your sudden decision to cut ties and move abroad changes everything. Three years later, Jungkook is thriving at university as he begins his junior year. He’s a star athlete, member of a popular fraternity, and every girl’s ideal boyfriend. He tells himself that he’s long forgotten you and the friendship he never had a chance to mend – that is, until you show up on campus as a transfer student with new friends in tow. It’s been three years, and everything has changed, but the biggest change is you. Your new found determination to use your abilities to help the ghosts you used to live in fear of, no matter how dangerous it might be, makes Jungkook fear he’ll lose you before he has a chance to fix what he broke. College AU. 

Disclaimer: Just for funsies, I don’t believe in real-life shipping. But I like to write, and I like fandom, so here we are. Please do not duplicate this work or repost anywhere else without permission.

Read Chapter 1 

Chapter 2

Gettis University, and the surrounding town, were as full of creepy feelings and shadows as you’d expected. The strong presence of the otherworld could be felt as soon as you got within a couple of miles of the city limits, and the hot spots you’d passed as you drove through town would likely test your abilities in ways they’d not been tested before.

You paused in the great room of the old house where you’d be living for the next two years. It was a Victorian style home and though light, bright and newly renovated, you’d already felt the presence of something that you’d need to run out before you all slept that night.

You turned when you heard Yeontan’s little nails tapping on the floor behind you. You scooped him up and buried your face in his soft, black and tan fur. “Hi baby. Did you have a good walk?”

“He did,” Taehyung said as he walked in. “It’s good that we have an enclosed garden out back, but he loves the park down the street, too.”

“This house is way too big for two people, Tae,” you said, your tone admonishing. “What are we even going to do with all this space?”

“Well, we need space to set up an office for Namjoon and Chloe, plus the paranormal group they’ve been in contact with here will probably be over. We need extra bedrooms for when my parents visit because now that we’re back in the country, they probably will. And it was the only house near campus that also has a guest house for Joon and Chloe to have their own space.”

“Well, I’ll leave it to you to figure out what you want to do with all these rooms,” you said, knowing he probably did have some kind of plan for them. He’d need an office for himself since he often worked late on photography and art projects, and he liked having a home gym. “I’m glad your mom arranged to have it furnished before we got here. We just need to move in our personal things.”

“Yeah, Joon is sorting boxes outside.” Taehyung closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders. “I’m kind of sensing something here. Dark spirit?”

“A weaker one, but yes,” you answered. “We’ll deal with it after we get Joon and Chloe set up, and then we’ll hang talismans.”

While Taehyung couldn’t see the things you saw, with the rare exception that a spirit was strong enough to break through the barrier of the otherworld, he was sensitive to their energy. It was something that had wreaked havoc in his life before he met you because he didn’t understand why he had such dark and negative feelings all the time. When he’d started getting into trouble and drinking too much, his parents had sent him to England to attend boarding school with his cousin.

You’d known as soon as you saw him that he could feel the spirits that hung around him even if he didn’t know what they were. And so, one day after classes, you gave him one of your talismans and told him that he’d sleep better if he put it next to his pillow. You could tell by his raised brows that he thought you were kind of crazy, but he’d fallen asleep looking at it that night and finally slept better than he had in years.

At first, it had been weird to talk to someone other than Jungkook and Mrs. Kim about your abilities. You kept expecting him to think you were nuts and exit stage left because even your own mother had never believed you. But Taehyung never thought you were crazy. Even when you started exploring your abilities, looking into the resources you’d gotten from Mrs. Kim, and making contact with others whose work lay in the paranormal realm, he’d never acted like you were a burden, and he’d never abandoned you. His support had given you the strength to keep going on an increasingly scary and dangerous path.

While your academic focus was English literature and linguistics, Taehyung was most interested in art, photography and art history. Taehyung’s parents had expected him to return to California and perhaps study art at Berkeley or apply to NYU’s fine arts program. Instead, he’d followed you to Oxford when you were both accepted.

You had the support of a team now as well. During your Oxford years, you’d met Namjoon, a grad student who had been doing research on paranormal abilities as an unsanctioned side project while also studying experimental psychology. His girlfriend, Chloe, had a background in engineering and computer science and a similar interest in recording paranormal activity.

With their help and that of Mrs. Kim, with whom you’d remained in touch, you’d gradually built a network of contacts – people who were able to see the otherworld as you did, sensitives like Taehyung, and those who sought to understand the paranormal world. One of Mrs. Kim’s contacts, an elderly Chinese man named Mr. Lu, also had the ability to use Taoist amulets to banish spirits.

And not just spirits – you’d been stunned to learn that demons also inhabited the otherworld. You finally had an explanation as to how the ghostly man in the library had hurt you that night. While the strongest of the ghosts in the otherworld could also harm you if they gathered enough energy, burning someone with a touch was the specialty of low-level demons.

You had worked hard for the past couple of years to hone your abilities. It was a surprise to find that many of the spirits who inhabited the otherworld were harmless. They neither sought out human contact nor attempted to cause harm; they merely drifted in the remnants of a world that felt familiar to them, or they sought comfort by occasionally observing loved ones who remained among the living.

Some were nuisance ghosts who enjoyed playing pranks, but they were quite easily dealt with and did little to cause lasting damage. A small percentage fell into the realm of dark spirits – vengeance ghosts who were still angry at their manner of passing were some of the strongest ghosts and could pose real danger to people. Similarly, places that had seen evil acts committed, or mass deaths, were often portals of darkness which attracted demons and dark spirits alike.

Aided by Mr. Lu, you discovered that you had untapped potential to help spirits cross over to the light, as well as the power to harness dark spirits and banish them from the otherworld. Demons were trickier, but you were getting better at dealing with them. It had taken you time to recognize the power you held, but as you got older and it grew stronger, and as you became less afraid, you could feel it inside yourself – a little ball of light that you could coax forward and wield at will.

Learning to wield that power had not come easily. The burn mark on your arm wasn’t the only scar you carried on your body now either; you glanced down and traced the long, jagged mark that ran the length of your left arm from your inner elbow to your wrist. Strong fingers suddenly clasped yours and you looked up to see Taehyung looking at you with worried eyes.

“You can still change your mind about this,” Taehyung said softly. “We both know that being here is dangerous for you. If your friend still cares about you, he wouldn’t want you doing this for him.”

“I’m not just doing this for him, Tae,” you said truthfully. “I’m doing this for me. Because I have regrets about how and why I left, and I can’t keep running away from my past. There’s Jungkook, yes, but also Jin, and Jimin, and Emmie and Robbie. My mom. I ran away from everyone, thinking I was better off alone, and they were better off without me. Now I have to consider how I can merge my old life with my new one, at least enough to repair those relationships.”

“And if you can’t?”

“Then at least I’ll know I tried,” you said with a smile. “I know I can’t go back to how things were, but maybe there’s a way forward.”

Taehyung suddenly pulled you close, wrapping his arms around both you and Yeontan. “You know I’ll help you any way I can.”

Leaning your head against his chest, you nodded. “I know. I just hope your parents don’t hate me for dragging you to yet another university where you never intended to enroll.” It was one of the best universities in the country, and it did have an excellent fine arts program, but it wasn’t even on Taehyung’s radar before you applied for transfer.

“Hey, my parents love you. They credit you for getting me on the straight and narrow path, and even though I told them we’re not dating anymore, I’m certain my mom is still planning our wedding.”

Taehyung’s parents were Hollywood A-listers. His mom had a long film career that had eventually transitioned to television, and she was the popular star of a long running cable drama. His father was an English filmmaker who’d won two Oscars and now spent most of his time on documentaries. Taehyung had no interest in acting or film, but with his fine boned features, dark wavy hair and almond shaped, deep brown eyes, he did a handful of modeling assignments every year that fueled his interest in photography and fashion.

You pulled back and kissed his cheek before lifting Yeontan to give him a lick, making him laugh. “Come on, we should go help Joon and Chloe sort boxes and get things set up. Then I need to have a chat with this little spirit lurking about the place.”

___________________

 You woke the next morning feeling refreshed after a deep, dreamless sleep. You and Tae had helped Joon and Chloe set up their equipment in the room designated for their office. Then you’d made up the beds and begun the arduous task of unpacking and organizing personal items. By the time the sun set, you’d been ready to tackle the dark spirit haunting the house.

Like most weak spirits, its energy grew as night fell, and you’d caught it at just the right time before it gathered enough energy to put up a real fight. Still, using your Taoist amulet drained your energy too, and you were exhausted by the time your dinner order arrived. The last task had been to hang talismans at centrally located windows and main entrances, both in the main house and in the guest house, concealing some among the curtains and hiding others behind the artwork that Taehyung’s mother had selected for the house.

Though you still thought the house was too large for you and Taehyung, you couldn’t deny you were happy to have a tranquil bedroom overlooking the garden, and you owed Tae’s mom a phone call to thank her for having it decorated in your favorite colors. The walls were the palest of lavender with cream trim, and the cream, padded headboard of the queen-sized bed dominated the far wall. The light purple of the silk duvet was accented with splashes of cream and sage, and the bed held an array of pillows in similar colors.

Dramatic, arching windows were draped in swathes of delicate cream fabric tied back to let in the light. Comfortable sage armchairs created a cozy reading nook in the corner, and a large area rug in an irregular but complementing color pattern covered the hardwood floor. She’d thoughtfully selected artwork for the walls – an abstract floral design here, a water landscape there. Considering the negative energy that you felt so strongly in town, you knew this space would go a long way towards helping you feel calm, focused and centered.

You’d been too tired the night before to take note of the spa-like retreat that was the adjoining bathroom. Its marble floors and tiles had been warmed up with sage accent colors and a teak wood double vanity, while a claw foot tub sat in front of the large window that faced the far mountains. You eyed the tub longingly before opting for a quick shower, enjoying the rainfall effect.

After drying your hair and applying light makeup, you put on a lemon-yellow sundress, a gossamer thin white cardigan, and clasped your gold locket around your neck. Then you selected the gold watch and earrings Tae had given you for your birthday the week before.

You had one suitcase left to unpack and set it on the bed to sort through its contents – mostly fall and winter clothes that it was still too hot to wear. You paused when you got to the bottom and saw the black hoodie. You’d found two of Jungkook’s hoodies in your room before you left for England. You left one of them in the box that you’d told Emmie to take to him when he returned from camp. The other, you’d thrown into your suitcase a few minutes before you left.

You remembered the night he gave it to you. A few weeks before Christmas during your sophomore year, Jimin’s parents had gone away for the weekend and as he always did when they were away, he threw a party. You were sixteen, and Jungkook had decided it was time to try beer.

Hauling his drunk ass home later that night was quite the experience.

You snorted with laughter as Jungkook stopped beneath a streetlight and did part of a girl group dance that Jimin had dared him to do earlier. But he’d forgotten part of it and had been stopping every few minutes on the way home, trying to remember.

“Damn it,” he said, frustrated as he shook his hips, arms up, and then paused. “Are you sure you don’t remember it?”

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t do it in front of Jimin’s drunk friends or here on the street,” you replied. You tugged his arm. “Come on, if we miss curfew your mom is going to kill us.”

“Nah, as long as we’re together, she doesn’t really worry. She knows we’ll take care of each other.”

“It seems like I’m the one doing the work tonight,” you said with a grunt as he leaned into you. “Geez, you are heavy.” Once he hit his growth spurt, making him nearly a head taller than you, he’d also started putting on muscle.

“But you love meeee,” he sang, spinning you in a circle.

You couldn’t help laughing even as you stumbled sideways again. “I think we need to sit and let you sober up a little. We still have about thirty minutes.” Since you were staying at Jungkook’s tonight, and you were only going to Jimin’s house, his mom had extended the curfew until midnight.

You’d reached the halfway point, a large park that connected your neighborhood to Jimin’s, so it wouldn’t take more than ten minutes to get home. The park was well lit and safe as well, rarely home to any spirits. You guided Jungkook over to the swings and helped him sit before sitting in the one next to him.

“Remember when I fell out of this swing?” Jungkook asked as he started swinging.

“Of course. You just had to get as high as possible and then jump.” He still had the mark on his cheek where he’d hit the ground. “Even when we were kids, you were never afraid of anything.”

“I am scared, sometimes,” he said after a moment.

“Really? Of what?”

“Of things that can hurt you. It’s the only thing I’m really scared of.”

You looked over at him to see him staring up at the sky, a lot more sober than he’d been a few minutes ago. “You never told me you were scared before.”

He scuffed his boots against the ground and then pushed off again. “I have this dream sometimes, or a nightmare, I guess. You’re in the water and something comes for you, and I can’t get to you in time.”

You had that nightmare too, which is why you never went near the water after your encounter with the water ghost. “I’m sorry.” It was the first time you’d realized that he was carrying the weight of your personal horrors, and you felt the guilt creeping in.

“It’s not your fault. I just wish I could take it away, you know? Like, I wish I could be the one to see them and you could be safe.”

“I wouldn’t wish that on you, though.” You twisted your swing sideways, back and forth, and then leaned back to look at the sky. The moon was almost full and very bright, and it reminded you of the moon in the storybook you’d read to Emmie earlier that evening.

“I love you to the moon and back,” you murmured, leaning back further.

“I knew you loved me,” Jungkook said, laughing.

“Funny. The moon made me think of that book I read to Emmie earlier.”

“Well, I love you. To the moon and back, and to Saturn and Jupiter, and back to the moon…”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay. I love you too, to the moon and back.” You shivered as you stood up, holding out your hand. “We should get going.”

Jungkook stood and unzipped his black hoodie. “Here, put this on. I’m getting kind of hot anyway.”

You pulled it on and zipped it up. He laughed at you when you had to roll up the sleeves, his nose crinkling in amusement.

As you started walking again, Jungkook said, “I love you to…. infinity and beyond!”

“Shhh, God you’re loud. Please please be quiet when we get to your house.”

You ran your fingers over the soft material as you thought about that night. You’d worn the hoodie home the next morning and you’d just never given it back. It had become a type of security blanket over the years.

You carefully tucked it in a drawer, slipped on your sandals, and went to look for Taehyung. He wasn’t in the great room or the kitchen. Next you checked the downstairs master suite he’d claimed, but he was already up. Grabbing a cup of coffee, you walked past the guest house and out into the back garden where you spotted him sitting, legs crossed in a meditation pose, on a bench near the far wall.

He opened his eyes and smiled at you as you approached him. “Good morning. Feeling better?”

“Much.” You sat next to him and watched Yeontan nosing around the bushes. “I think I’m going to drive to campus and look around, get a feel for any hot spots. Do you want to come with me?”

“I can’t. The guy is coming to finish the water features.” Since water often served to deter spirits, Taehyung had enlisted a gardening company to install a water feature that ran along the walls of the back garden. The work had begun before you arrived; natural rocks had been carefully placed in a design that would create waterfalls flowing into small pools on either side of the garden. “Once they finish up today and get the water going, I think those pools will be deep enough for koi fish.”

“That will be pretty.” It was a lovely garden. Several trees provided shade, the lawn was expertly manicured, and lush flowerbeds and carefully pruned flowering bushes presented a pop of color among the greenery. “The water will make it cooler back here too. We could add a table and some lanterns and hang out here in the evening.”

“Are you okay going by yourself?” he asked, pushing his wavy hair out of his eyes as he whistled for Yeontan. “You could take Tannie with you.”

“Probably a good idea since they’re coming to finish up back here.”

“Hey.” Taehyung reached for a lock of your hair and tugged it gently. “Don’t confront anything by yourself. If you want to wander around, get your bearings, then fine. Just please don’t follow anything or let anything follow you until the rest of us are with you. This place is… dangerous. We need to be really careful here.”

“I know, don’t worry.” You reached for his hand and threaded your fingers together. “Thank you for coming with me, even though I was afraid to ask you. This would be so much harder without you here.”

You collected Yeontan’s leash and other essentials and drove to the main university parking lot, which was central to the sprawling campus. Yeontan trotted happily next to you as you took note of buildings. The Gothic architecture was a sharp contrast to the bright, late summer sun beating down, and you imagined the campus took on an entirely different aesthetic at night.

There were also plenty of hot spots. Dropping pins as you walked, you wondered exactly what type of spirits you would encounter here. You expected the usual vengeance ghosts, but you occasionally got impressions of something much, much darker as you walked. You dropped yet another pin as you passed the building that housed the pool and athletic departments. Mindful of your promise to Taehyung, you didn’t explore further.

When Yeontan got tired, you picked him up and followed a group of students chattering away with each other about classes beginning soon, upcoming mixers and welcome back activities. Soon you found yourself at a park that abutted a large, sparkling lake. You didn’t need to get too close to sense something in those waters, and so you kept a healthy distance as you turned your attention to the group playing baseball in the field.

And then you saw him. Jungkook wore loose black shorts, a white t-shirt, and a backwards black baseball cap as he stood with a group waiting for their turn at bat. From the people talking around you, you learned that it was just a friendly game between rival fraternities, which explained the number of girls hanging around.

This was your chance to talk to him – to let him know you were here. To explain why you had left. Seeing him again brought a wave of longing, and with it the familiar anxiety you felt when you thought of him.

“Oh, such a cute dog!”

You turned to see a very pretty girl about your age wiggling her fingers at Yeontan. Her dimples flashed when she smiled, and her eyes were such a clear shade of blue that you wondered if they were contact lenses. Her auburn hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she held a sign supporting Pi Kappa Alpha.

“I’m Sera,” she introduced herself. “And who’s this?”

“Yeontan,” you replied. “And I’m y/n. You can pet him if you want. He’s very friendly.”

“Are you new here?” Sera asked, scratching Yeontan’s head. At your surprised look, she nodded at the brochures sticking out of your open bag. “I recognize the welcome package.”

“I’m a transfer student from Oxford,” you confirmed, shifting the wiggling Yeontan in your arms. “We just got here yesterday.”

“Are you off campus? I’m in the Alpha Omicron Pi house.”

“We have a house – the old Victorian on Elmhurst Street.”

“Oh, I noticed they were renovating that house this summer. I grew up here,” she explained. “My parents live three streets over from you. That’s a big house – did you move here with friends?”

“My… friend, Taehyung, came with me,” you said. You weren’t dating anymore, but your relationship with Tae had fallen into something between friend and boyfriend, a kind of ambiguous realm you both were still feeling your way through. “And two other friends, Namjoon and Chloe, are living in the guest house.”

“That’s cool that you all came here together. I guess this will be a big change from Oxford. Hey, so tomorrow there’s a big welcome back picnic happening here around noon. My sorority is co-hosting. Why don’t you and your friends come? I can introduce you around.”

Your eyes drifted back to the field to see Jungkook up at bat. As expected, he hit the ball with a loud crack and took off running around the bases, making it to home before the outfielder had even retrieved the ball. He high fived a guy on his team who you recognized as Jimin when you saw his profile. Someone shouted Jungkook’s name and he suddenly looked in your direction.

Slipping your sunglasses back on, you let your hair fall to cover your profile. “I have to get going, but I’ll ask my friends about it when I get home.” With a wave at Sera, you turned and began walking back to your car as quickly as you could without drawing too much attention to yourself.

“Hope to see you tomorrow!” Sera called after you.

______________________________

 Jungkook ran the bases with ease and did a shimmy on home base before high fiving Jimin.

“Such a showoff,” Jimin said with a laugh.

Jungkook grinned and glanced over at the crowd watching when he heard his name called, waving at Jimin’s girlfriend, Ayeong, and her friend Erin, who was waving her Pi Kappa sign enthusiastically. Then a girl in yellow caught his attention. He froze as the girl turned her face away before he could see her clearly. She was holding a small dog as she talked to Sera from the A O Pi sorority. Then she was hurrying away.

Jungkook didn’t realize he’d started walking in her direction until Jimin caught his arm. “Where are you going? You’re pitching.” Jimin followed his gaze, a troubled expression on his face. “I know that girl kind of looks like…”

Jungkook cut him off. “Let’s get back to the game.”

He tried to concentrate on the rest of the game, but he was agitated now, and pissed off. He’d promised himself two years ago that he’d stop looking for you in crowds and chasing the shadows of girls who looked even vaguely like you. That girl might have the same hair, and she might’ve been wearing one of those dumb, useless little sweaters you always liked, but she wasn’t you.

The problem was that now his head was full of you, and he did his best to push you back out like he always did when something reminded him of you. His team won, but he didn’t enjoy the victory, and he was silent in the car as Jimin drove back to the house they’d just moved into with Jin, who was enrolled in the theater program as a grad student.

“I’m glad you finally got permission from your coach to move off campus,” Jimin said. “I guess it helps that you’ll be living with family, so he trusts you not to get too wild or slack off on training.”

Jungkook leaned forward and turned up the radio, a signal that he didn’t want to talk.

Jimin sighed but fell silent. When they pulled up to the house, he jumped out and headed inside to find Jin had started painting the living room. He went straight through to the kitchen, ignoring his brother’s greeting.

“Hey, the least you could do is pick up a brush and help!” he heard Jin yell after him.

Jungkook got a bottle of water from the fridge and took a long drink. He could hear Jimin talking to Jin now.

“There was a girl at the game who looked kind of like y/n,” Jimin said in a low voice. “Plus it’s that time of year – you know how he gets.”

“Her birthday was last week, and his is coming up soon,” Jin said. “Not that he’s ever in the mood to celebrate it anymore anyway.”

Jungkook ignored them as he walked back into the living room and picked up a brush. “Let’s get this finished. Remember we have to go early to pick up the coolers and ice for the picnic.” He and Jimin belonged to the Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity, and they were co-hosting the welcome back picnic with the A O Pi sorority.

He let Jimin and Jin talk and concentrated on painting. He wasn’t going to think of you anymore and that was that. You hadn’t been back to the U.S. in three years – the last he’d heard from his mom, you opted to attend Oxford University. You’d cut everyone out of your life, and he wasn’t going to waste any more of his time thinking about the past.

That night he dreamed of you.

He stood at the edge of the lake, wading in when he saw you drifting further out in front of him. It always happened the same way; you would smile and stretch out a hand to him, and then you disappeared beneath the surface. And no matter how many times he dove under the water looking for you, you were just gone.

Jungkook woke in a cold sweat, gasping, heart pounding. He switched on his bedside lamp and sat up, glancing at the clock to see it was nearly four in the morning. Running his hands through his hair, he breathed deeply and willed his heart rate to slow.

He hated that fucking nightmare. He could tell himself all day long he wasn’t going to think of you, but then this would happen. He told himself that you were fine, wherever you were. If something terrible had happened to you, he would have heard about it from your mom or his mom. Your life wasn’t his business anymore.

Jungkook was sleep deprived and cranky the next day as he helped set up for the picnic. Students were arriving on campus now, and there were a lot of mixers and activities planned for the next week, many of which he was expected to help with because Jimin was a social butterfly who kept volunteering you both.

Ayeong and Erin were there as well, and he did his best to avoid Erin, whose crush on him was starting to make him uncomfortable. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he didn’t want a girlfriend and she definitely wanted a boyfriend. The last person he had seriously liked was Grace, and they’d broken up before senior year started. Since then, he’d kept his relationships casual – maintaining his grades and baseball took up most of his time anyway.

An hour into the picnic, he was sitting in a shaded area with Jimin and Ayeong when a little dog ran up and panted at his feet. He smiled as he leaned over to pet the little ball of black and tan fluff. “Hey, little guy, who do you belong to?”

“That would be me – sorry.” A tall man with dark wavy hair approached holding a leash. He leaned down to clip it on the dog’s collar. “He doesn’t usually run away like that, but I think he’s excited about all the new people.”

“Cute,” Jungkook said with a grin as he scratched the little dog behind the ears. “What’s his name?”

“Yeontan,” the man replied with a smile. He held out his hand. “And I’m Taehyung.”

Jungkook shook his hand. “I’m Jungkook. This is Jimin, and that’s Ayeong.”

Taehyung’s smile faded. “I should get back to my friends.”

He was leaning down to pick up the little dog when Sera joined them. “Hey, it’s Yeontan!” She stroked the dog’s head and looked over at the man holding him. “Let me guess – you must be Taehyung?”

“Have we met?”

“No, but I met Yeontan at the game yesterday when I met your girlfriend.”

“Ah, you must be Sera.”

“So where is y/n? I haven’t seen her yet.”

Jungkook’s head shot up at the name. “Y/n?”

“Oh, there she is!” Sera waved at a girl who walked over to join Taehyung.

Since your eyes were on the dog, you didn’t notice him at first. “Oh, thank God. Bad Tannie!” You reached for the small dog and dropped a kiss on his nose. Behind you were two more people – a tall man with silver blond hair, and a woman with long, brown hair threaded with blue streaks.

It was a surreal moment seeing you again. You were wearing a dark blue, silky sundress and what looked like the same thin white sweater he’d seen you wearing the day before. Your wavy hair was held back from your face with little clips, and your gold locket hung around your neck just as it always had. The little dog yapped and licked your cheek, making you giggle, and you smiled up at Taehyung, who placed an arm around your waist.

“Oh, shit,” he heard Jimin mutter next to him.

That got your attention and when you glanced over to see him, you froze. Your eyes held his for several moments. Then you took a deep breath and said, “Hi, Jungkook.”

Sera was looking between you, her expression curious. “Do you know each other?”

When Jungkook didn’t answer, Jimin said, “We all went to school together until y/n left for boarding school senior year.” He stood up and walked over to give you a hug. “It’s nice to see you again.”

You smiled at him gratefully. “I’m happy to see you, too. I was going to call or something, but we’ve only been here for two days.”

Jungkook felt his jaw clench. He said nothing as Jimin introduced Ayeong, who seemed uncharacteristically shy as she greeted you and Taehyung.

“This is Namjoon,” you said, gesturing to the blond man. “And his girlfriend, Chloe.”

“I heard you guys moved into that big old Victorian house,” Sera said to Taehyung. “I was telling my mom about it when I talked to her last night. She’s an interior designer, so she was interested in how it had been updated.”

“You should come by some time,” Taehyung told her.

The way Taehyung kept looking between you and him told Jungkook that he knew who he was. That meant that you’d known he was here before you came. You’d probably seen him at the game yesterday and you’d still scurried off rather than talk to him.

He watched Sera lead you and Taehyung away, introducing you to other friends. You looked over your shoulder at him, but he averted his eyes rather than meet your gaze.

Jimin cleared his throat and looked at Namjoon and Chloe. “Are you students here too?”

Namjoon shook his head. “I met Tae and y/n at Oxford – I was in a psych grad program there. Chloe and I are researching paranormal activity, so we tagged along when we heard they were coming here.”

Jungkook felt Jimin looking at him again.

“Huh. Well, that’s interesting. It’s supposedly the most haunted campus in the country, so good luck with that,” Jimin said.

Namjoon and Chloe wandered over to join the group of people you were talking to.

“Are you alright?” Jimin asked quietly.

Jungkook tried to swallow down the hot anger he could feel building. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Do you guys know who that is?” Ayeong asked incredulously. “That’s Taehyung Kim. As in, son of actress Jinah Park and Oscar winning director John Kim. He models for big designers a few times a year – he has a verified Instagram account, too.” She tapped on her phone for a minute and held it out to Jimin.

Jimin scrolled silently for a few seconds. “He’s also a photographer?”

“Yeah. I think he’s had at least one showing in New York under the name Vante. It was a photo of your friend that got me interested in photography – about two years ago?” She took the phone back and scrolled for a minute before handing it back to Jimin. “That one. He called it The Sighting, and it still gives me the chills when I look at it.”

Jimin looked at it and then handed the phone to Jungkook. He took it and looked at the photo, a landscape shot of you next to a river. You were in profile, but the angle showed a haunting, pensive expression on your face as you stared across the water, arms folded across your midsection, your hair lifted by a breeze.

The Sighting was a good name for the photo, and he wondered what you had seen that day. After a moment of hesitation, Jungkook went to the thumbnail view of Taehyung’s Instagram page. It was full of you.

Some of the photos were more artistic and some were just little snapshots of happy moments. It was obvious that you had spent most of your time with Taehyung over the past three years, and that anger he’d felt earlier came rushing back. You couldn’t be bothered to let him know you were alive, but you could take cooking classes and adopt a puppy with the perfect Taehyung.

He carefully passed the phone back to Ayeong before he did something crazy like hurl it into the lake.

When Ayeong was distracted by a friend she was talking to, Jimin scooted his chair closer. “Seriously, the level of anger you’re repressing right now can’t be healthy. Can you please just talk to her? Maybe she had a good reason for not coming back until now.”

“I’m not interested,” Jungkook replied.

“You are so full of shit right now,” Jimin said evenly. “You told me that it was your fault she left to begin with. You were going to fix it, you said. Well, here’s your chance.”

“She’s not my fucking problem anymore, and I don’t care,” Jungkook snapped back. “So drop it.”

A quiet gasp made them both look up to see you and Taehyung standing a few feet away. You stared at him, a flush creeping up your neck betraying your emotions. There was something in your eyes that made him feel small in that moment because he knew he’d hurt you.

Without a word, you turned and walked away towards the lake. Taehyung shot a furious look in his direction before following you.

Jungkook spent the remainder of the afternoon battling conflicting emotions. He was mad at you, but he was also mad at himself for still getting angry about something he’d spent two years telling himself was over and done with. He was hurt that you’d just shown up like this with no warning and with new friends, evidence of how you’d replaced him.

He was also confused about why you’d come to this university when you had to know how dangerous it was for you. Jungkook couldn’t see or feel what you saw and felt, but here at Gettis, he occasionally got an uneasy feeling. It was enough that he’d hung a talisman at the window of his dorm, and he’d put up more at the house he shared with Jimin and Jin.

And now you were down by the lake like one of his nightmares come to life. As mad as he was, he was also fighting the urge to physically drag you away from the water. You’d been down there for an hour with Taehyung, Namjoon and Chloe. Thinking about what Namjoon had said – that he and Chloe were interested in paranormal activity – he had to wonder if you’d deliberately chosen to come here because you were looking, too.

He reminded himself again and again that it wasn’t his business, and what you did shouldn’t concern him now. He dredged up his anger to dispel the fear that curled in his stomach when he watched you walk to the end of the pier and lean down to touch the water before looking back at Chloe, who was looking at something on a tablet.

Jungkook guessed he had an answer – you were definitely here looking for something, and you displayed none of the fear that he’d expect, either. And somehow that scared him.

He was still sitting and watching you when Jin arrived.

“I guess Jimin called you,” Jungkook said.

“Where is she?” Jin asked.

He nodded down to the lake.

_____________________________________

 “The readings here are insane,” Chloe said. “Look at this, Joon.”

“I see it.”

You closed your eyes and pushed out with your mind, searching. You heard the water ripple a few feet away – it could be mistaken for a fish, but you knew it wasn’t. Taehyung knew it too and crouched behind you to wrap one arm around your waist.

“Even after everything I’ve seen you do, these water ghosts are still the scariest,” he admitted as he anchored you.

They used to be the most terrifying to you as well, but you didn’t feel the same fear you used to feel when standing near the water. You were still scared, at least a little, and very alert to the danger. However, if it hadn’t broken you the night you went down to the lake alone three years ago, you supposed it wouldn’t now.

You could feel that Jungkook was still watching you, too. You didn’t need to look at him to know he must be wondering what you were doing down here. After all, the same fears that haunted you used to haunt him as well.

You’d been so nervous to see him, but once you were standing in front of him, you couldn’t deny the burst of happiness you felt. He looked the same in some ways, but there were little changes you committed to memory; he’d grown a bit taller, and he’d filled out even more. He’d lost the remaining roundness in his face, replaced by defined cheekbones and a sharp jawline. His hair no longer swept across his forehead, hiding his eyes, now replaced by an off-center part that exposed his strong brow.

You’d both grown up during these three years, though it was clear that he’d nursed a deep anger toward you. Maybe you deserved it, but it still hurt to hear him refer to you as a problem – one that he didn’t want to be a part of anymore.

“Y/n?”

You looked over to see Jin standing on the pier next to the lake edge. Taehyung released you as you stood and took a few tentative steps in Jin’s direction, wondering if he was angry, too.

Then he held his arms open, and you felt tears rush into your eyes. You closed the distance and wrapped your arms tightly around him. He just held you for a couple of minutes, petting the back of your head like he used to when he knew you’d had a bad day. His tall, solid presence instantly calmed you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“I’m maybe a little mad, but I missed you too much to show it right now,” he said. “I’m glad you’re back.”

You finally pulled back and wiped your fingers under your eyes before looking up at him. “I thought you were still in L.A.”

“I was there for a couple of years. I did a couple of commercials, had a few walk-on roles. Mostly I just saved money so I could apply to the theater program here. I finally got in.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you said, squeezing his hand.

“What are you doing down here?” Jin asked. He looked concerned as he glanced at the people behind you. “This lake can be dangerous from what I’ve heard.”

You quickly introduced him to Taehyung, Namjoon and Chloe. Jin raised his brows when you mentioned that you were living with Tae, but he didn’t comment.

“Tae and I both transferred from Oxford,” you explained. You debated how much to say, but then added, “Namjoon and Chloe are working on a research project related to paranormal activity. There’s no better place for that than here, so they decided to come with us.”

“I see.” He looked out at the water for a moment and then held out his hand. “Come walk with me.”

As you walked around the perimeter of the lake, you noted that Jin put himself between you and the water.

“Can you really see ghosts?” he finally asked.

You stopped and stared up at him. “Did Jungkook tell you?”

“No,” he said. “You forget how many times over the years you slept over. I can’t even count how many blanket forts I built for you two on the living room floor once you were too old to share a bedroom, and if you remember, I usually slept on the couch. I heard you two talking more than once.”

“And you believed it?” you asked doubtfully.

“No, not at first. I thought you two had overactive imaginations because of what happened to you at the lake that time which, I admit, was hard to explain. But then I saw how you were after the library fire, and after that night we found you at the lake, I guess I wondered.”

You sighed and looked out over the water. “Even my mother doesn’t believe me, Jin. The only people I could talk to were Jungkook and Mrs. Kim.”

“So, it’s true.”

You nodded and met his gaze. “The otherworld is real, though not many people are aware of it. Some people are sensitive to that negative energy – Taehyung, for example. He can’t see them, but he can often feel their presence. And then there are people like me, who can see and interact with them.”

“Then why would you come here?” he asked. “This place even gives me the creeps sometimes. You used to jump at every shadow that crossed your path, and now you’re strolling near the lake looking for what? Water ghosts?”

“More than one,” you replied. “I was trying to feel them out and see how many are out there.”

He looked at you incredulously. “For what purpose? I remember hearing you and Jungkook talk once about how they sometimes followed you. Isn’t this dangerous for you?”

“They recognize me as part of the otherworld, so yes, they often follow me,” you replied. “But I haven’t wasted these last three years, Jin. I’m still learning, but I’m able to use my power in ways now that I couldn’t even comprehend before. And with all the hot spots here, I think this will be a good place for me to test my abilities.”

“So what you’re telling me is that you and your team of ghostbusters over there are here to look for dangerous ghosts,” he said. His laugh turned into a groan, and he wiped a hand down his face. “You and Jungkook are going to give me gray hair before I’m thirty.”

“Please don’t say anything to your mom,” you told him. “I don’t need her or my mom thinking I need a psych admittance.”

“That’s debatable,” Jin muttered. “Jungkook is too mad and stubborn to admit it right now, but he missed you too.”

You looked back over at the water. “He made it clear I’m not his problem anymore, and he’s right. He was kind of trapped in that world with me for ten years. I don’t blame him for opting out.”

“Is that why you left?”

You shrugged but didn’t answer.

“Stubborn, the both of you,” he said with a sigh. “He waited for you to come home that first year and then he tried to forget you. Do you know he hasn’t celebrated his birthday since you left? Like clockwork, August rolls around and Jungkook is a walking wound for a few weeks, snapping at everybody. He can push you out of his head, but he’s never been able to push you out of his heart, y/n, even if he thinks he did.”

Tears blurred your eyes as you stared at the water, and you forced them back. “I can’t force him to listen to what I have to say, Jin. Maybe he’s right and it doesn’t matter anymore.”

________________________________

 Jin spent the afternoon trying to reason through everything you’d told him before abandoning reason. That evening he called his mom and asked if she had Mrs. Kim’s contact information. If his mother was curious as to why he needed it, she didn’t say anything. She simply told him that she’d look for it and send it to him later.

When he got off the phone, he saw that Jimin and Jungkook had walked in with the pizzas they’d picked up.

Jimin looked at him curiously. “Why do you want to talk to Mrs. Kim? I don’t think I’ve seen her since before your grandmother’s funeral.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because y/n is here hunting ghosts. From talking to her this afternoon, I think she probably still talks to Mrs. Kim, and I’d like to know exactly how worried I should be.”

Jimin gaped at him. “Wait, what? She really sees ghosts? I thought Hanna and Lily were full of it when they started that rumor back in elementary school.”

Jin looked at Jungkook and then back at Jimin. “You didn’t know?”

“No.” He shot an accusing look at Jungkook. “Did you know?”

Jungkook was staring at Jin. “What do you mean she’s here hunting ghosts?”

“I mean exactly that. There are multiple water ghosts in that lake, by the way, so I’d advise you both to stay out of it.”

Jimin still looked stunned. “Water ghosts.” He visibly started. “Wait, is that what happened to her at the birthday party? And why she wouldn’t go near the lake again?”

“Apparently.” Jin grabbed a plate and loaded three slices of pizza on it.

“But then why would she be down at this lake if she thinks it’s full of water ghosts?”

“See, she seems to think that she can fight them now or something. She said she’s still learning, but it sounds like she’s here to test her learning curve by hunting ghosts in one of the most haunted places in America. And I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

Jin watched his brother while eating. Jungkook stared at the pizza on his plate, brow creased. He might try to hide it, but Jin could see he was worried.

Jimin was still trying to put all the pieces in place. “That fire at the library was always weird. Was that a ghost? Because it would explain why she stayed locked up in her bedroom if it was. And those lucky talismans? I noticed you hung a few up here, Jungkook. I thought they were just things you got from your grandmother.”

“They’re not lucky talismans,” Jungkook muttered. “They keep away spirits. Things feel weird here sometimes, so I hung them up just in case.”

“I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me about this,” Jimin said with a reproachful look. “I wouldn’t have told anyone, you know.”

“Can we please talk about something else?” Jungkook pushed his plate away and stood up.

“Hey.” When Jungkook looked at him, Jin said, “I don’t know what happened between you and y/n three years ago, and I get that you’re still mad, but I’m going to need you to pull your head out of your ass and help me out here. Because she’s still family even if you’re mad at her, Jungkook. I need you to help me make sure she doesn’t get hurt or worse doing whatever it is she’s planning on doing here.”

_________________________

 Jungkook tried not to think about you, but after Jin’s revelations, your new ghost hunting hobby was damn near all he could think about. Telling himself it wasn’t his problem anymore was one thing when he thought you had the sense to steer clear of the otherworld, but it was harder to convince himself when he was worried you were actively seeking out trouble.

Jin had mentioned that your boyfriend was a sensitive – someone who could feel but not see the spirits. He supposed that explained how you ended up together, and he obviously supported your newfound insanity. He still couldn’t believe you’d gone down to that lake and touched the water, knowing that it was full of water ghosts. As long as he lived, he’d never forget the force with which that ghost had yanked you into the water all those years ago, and that was only one ghost. Even though Taehyung had been anchoring you, he knew that would be useless if multiple ghosts came after you at once.

Jin had called Mrs. Kim and left her a long voicemail, but he hadn’t heard back from her yet. It had been two days since he’d seen you at the picnic; Jin had gone to visit you at your new house, but Jungkook had refused to go. He still felt confused, his emotions too raw to deal with you.

Jungkook wasn’t in the mood to go out, but Jimin dragged him down to the pool in the athletic building that afternoon.

“You need to work off some aggression,” Jimin said. “I’m tired of you snapping at everyone, and so is Jin.”

They hit the locker room first to change and then walked to the pool room. Once classes started, it would be in use more, but it was peaceful at the moment. Jungkook set his bag down on a chair, noting one other bag there, though no one was around. Then he saw your gold locket.

“Is that someone in the water?” Jimin suddenly asked.

Adrenaline rushed through him as he scanned the water and finally saw the dark shape at the bottom of the pool. “No.”

Jungkook hit the water and dove deep, fear giving him the extra push he needed to reach you within seconds. He jerked you into his arms and swam up. When he surfaced and started pulling you to the side, he was relieved to hear you coughing.

You clung to the side and coughed again before wiping your face.

Jungkook was livid as he climbed out and then lifted you out of the pool. “Are you out of your mind?”

You pushed your hair back and looked at him. “I wasn’t drowning – at least, not until you surprised me, and I inhaled water coming up.”

Jungkook barely controlled the urge to shake you. “You were at the bottom of the fucking pool, y/n! Are you fucking crazy?”

“Don’t curse at me,” you suddenly shouted back at him. “I can swim just fine now. I didn’t need you to jump in and play hero.”

“Whoa, okay you two need to calm down,” Jimin suddenly cut in. “If you weren’t drowning then what the hell were you doing at the bottom of the pool? Because the last time we saw you, you were scared to death of water.”

You walked over to your bag and pulled out a towel, wrapping it around yourself as you faced them. “I learned to swim more than two years ago. Sitting at the bottom of the pool is something I do to practice holding my breath. I like to see how long I can stay down there.”

“What if something was down there?” Jungkook asked, jaw clenched.

“I’m not stupid,” you shot back. “There was a water ghost here, but I got rid of it yesterday. It’s perfectly safe to swim here now.”

His attention was suddenly caught by the long, jagged scar on your left arm. He didn’t even have to ask to know you had gotten hurt doing something dangerous. Something like you were trying to do here. Jungkook thought his head was going to explode. “Are you listening to yourself? Are you trying to die on this campus?”

“What’s going on?”

He turned to see Taehyung coming from the direction of the bathrooms. He didn’t look happy to see Jungkook there, and in his current mood, the feeling was mutual.

“Nothing,” you said. “I want to go home.” You slid your shorts on and pulled a t-shirt over your head before fastening your locket around your neck.

Jungkook held out an arm to stop you from walking by him. “I thought Jin had to be wrong when he told me you were here hunting ghosts. Because that’s just crazy any way you want to look at it, and there’s no way you’d be stupid enough to go looking for that kind of trouble. Right?”

You stared up at him, and the stubborn tilt of your chin made his heart sink. “I think I’m not your fucking problem anymore, Jungkook. So whatever I am or am not doing, you don’t need to worry about it.”

Watching you walk out with Taehyung, he wanted to hit something. He settled for kicking his bag off the chair and then sat, raking his hands through his wet hair. “Fuck.”

Jimin sighed and sat next to him. “Maybe yelling at her isn’t the way to go, Jungkook. She’s not a child, and we have no idea what she’s experienced the last few years. It’s obvious that she’s not the same girl we knew who was afraid of everything, and maybe she has reasons for that.”

Elbows propped on his knees, he clasped his hands behind his head and tried to calm down. “You have no idea what kind of danger she’s putting herself in, Jimin, because you found out about this a couple of days ago. I lived with it for ten years. What she’s doing? She could die.”

Jimin stayed quiet for a minute. “I can’t pretend like I understand because I know I don’t. You two have ten years of secrets – that’s a lot. But it doesn’t change the fact that she has her own secrets now. Three years of secrets, to be exact, and the only way you’ll be able to understand who she is now is if she’ll talk to you about them. I’m just saying yelling won’t accomplish anything.”

Jungkook stayed by the pool when Jimin left, thinking over his friend’s words. Talking to you without getting angry seemed an impossible task at the moment. It would require him to dig at the wounds you’d left him with, to forgive you and ask for forgiveness in return. You had years of hurt and issues to hash out, and frankly, he didn’t know if he was ready for that.

His other option was just to stay away from you, but now that you were back, he didn’t know if he could do that either. And beneath it all, there was his deepest concern – how to keep you safe while he was figuring it out.

A/N – Hope you liked the update! I also updated the Ghosted playlist if you want to check that out. I put a link in my Master Fic List. My asks are open if you have any questions about the story, and I’ll work on getting Chapter 3 up as soon as I can. Yoongi and Hobi will be introduced in the next part as the U.S. liaison to y/n’s ghostbusting team, Hobi rather reluctantly lol.

Tag List:  @ggukkieland  @jikooksgirl19​  @waves-and-woods​  

[richincolor]

We have eight books on our calendar that are releasing tomorrow, and there’s something for everyone! Which ones are on your radar?

We Are Not Free by Traci Chee HMH Books for Young Readers

“All around me, my friends are talking, joking, laughing. Outside is the camp, the barbed wire, the guard towers, the city, the country that hates us.

We are not free.

But we are not alone.”

Fourteen teens who have grown up together in Japantown, San Francisco.

Fourteen teens who form a community and a family, as interconnected as they are conflicted.

Fourteen teens whose lives are turned upside down when over 100,000 people of Japanese ancestry are removed from their homes and forced into desolate incarceration camps.

In a world that seems determined to hate them, these young Nisei must rally together as racism and injustice threaten to pull them apart. [Image and summary via Goodreads]

Like Spilled Water by Jennie Liu Carolrhoda Books

Nineteen-year-old Na has always lived in the shadow of her younger brother, Bao-bao, her parents’ cherished son. Years ago, Na’s parents left her in the countryside and went to work in the city, bringing Bao-bao along and committing everything to his education.

But when Bao-bao dies suddenly, Na realizes how little she knew him. Did he really kill himself because of a low score on China’s all-important college entrance exam? Na learns that Bao-bao had many secrets and that his death may not be what it seems. Na’s parents expect her to quit her vocational school and go to work, forcing Na to confront traditional expectations for and pressures on young women. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Wayward Witch (Brooklyn Brujas #3) by Zoraida Córdova Sourcebooks Fire

Rose Mortiz has always been a fixer, but lately she’s been feeling lost. She has brand-new powers she doesn’t understand, and her family is still trying to figure out how to function in the wake of her amnesiac father’s return home. Then, on the night of her Deathday party, Rose discovers her father’s memory loss has been a lie.

As she rushes to his side, the two are ambushed and pulled through a portal to the land of Adas, a fairy realm hidden in the Caribbean Sea. There, Rose is forced to work with a group of others to save Adas. Soon, she begins to discover the scope of her powers, the troubling truth about her father’s past, and the sacrifices he made to save her sisters.

But if Rose wants to return home so she can repair her broken family, she must figure out how to heal Adas first. –Image and summary via Goodreads

Never Look Back by Liliam Rivera Bloomsbury YA

Eury comes to the Bronx as a girl haunted. Haunted by losing everything in Hurricane Maria–and by an evil spirit, Ato. She fully expects the tragedy that befell her and her family in Puerto Rico to catch up with her in New York. Yet, for a time, she can almost set this fear aside, because there’s this boy . . .

Pheus is a golden-voiced, bachata-singing charmer, ready to spend the summer on the beach with his friends, serenading his on-again, off-again flame. That changes when he meets Eury. All he wants is to put a smile on her face and fight off her demons. But some dangers are too powerful for even the strongest love, and as the world threatens to tear them apart, Eury and Pheus must fight for each other and their lives. — Cover image and summary via Bookshop.org

Micah: The Good Girl (Flyy Girls #2) by Ashley Woodfolk Penguin Workshop

Micah Dupree had always liked being the “good girl.” She was happy painting, going to church, and acing her school projects. After all, she had a perfect older brother to live up to. But when he unexpectedly dies, Micah’s world is turned upside-down. With her anxiety growing, a serious boyfriend in the picture, and new feelings emerging, Micah begins to question what being the “good girl” really means…and if it’s worth it, anyway.

With simply stated text and compelling characters, Flyy Girls is a series that’s perfect for readers of any level. — Cover image and summary via Bookshop.org

Punching the Air by Ibi Zoboi and Yusef Salaam Balzer & Bray/Harperteen

The story that I thought was my life didn’t start on the day I was born

Amal Shahid has always been an artist and a poet. But even in a diverse art school, he’s seen as disruptive and unmotivated by a biased system. Then one fateful night, an altercation in a gentrifying neighborhood escalates into tragedy. “Boys just being boys” turns out to be true only when those boys are white.

The story that I think will be my life starts today

Suddenly, at just sixteen years old, Amal’s bright future is upended: he is convicted of a crime he didn’t commit and sent to prison. Despair and rage almost sink him until he turns to the refuge of his words, his art. This never should have been his story. But can he change it?

With spellbinding lyricism, award-winning author Ibi Zoboi and prison reform activist Yusef Salaam tell a moving and deeply profound story about how one boy is able to maintain his humanity and fight for the truth, in a system designed to strip him of both. — Cover image and summary via Bookshop.org

Lux: The New Girl (Flyy Girls #1) by Ashley Woodfolk Penguin Workshop

Meet the Flyy Girls. The group of girls who seem like they can get away with anything. Veteran author Ashley Woodfolk pens a gorgeous and dynamic series of four Harlem highschoolers, each facing a crossroads of friendship, family, and love.

Lux Lawson is on a spree. Ever since her dad left, she’s been kicked out of every school that would take her, and this is her last chance: Harlem’s Augusta Savage School of the Arts. If this doesn’t work, Lux is off to military school, no questions asked. That means no more acting out, no more fights, and definitely no boyfriends. Focus on her photography, and make nice friends. That’s the deal.

Enter the Flyy Girls, three students who have it all together. The type of girls Lux needs to be friends with to stay out of trouble. And after charming her way into the group, Lux feels she’s on the right track. But every group has their secrets, including Lux. And when the past starts catching up with her, can she keep her place as a Flyy Girl? In this searing series opener, Lux takes center stage as she figures out just how hard it can be to start over.

With simply stated text and compelling characters, Flyy Girls is a series that’s perfect for readers of any level. — Cover image and summary via Bookshop.org

Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas Swoon Reads

A trans boy determined to prove his gender to his traditional Latinx family summons a ghost who refuses to leave in Aiden Thomas’s paranormal YA debut Cemetery Boys, described by Entertainment Weekly as groundbreaking.

Yadriel has summoned a ghost, and now he can’t get rid of him. When his traditional Latinx family has problems accepting his true gender, Yadriel becomes determined to prove himself a real brujo. With the help of his cousin and best friend Maritza, he performs the ritual himself, and then sets out to find the ghost of his murdered cousin and set it free.

However, the ghost he summons is actually Julian Diaz, the school’s resident bad boy, and Julian is not about to go quietly into death. He’s determined to find out what happened and tie off some loose ends before he leaves. Left with no choice, Yadriel agrees to help Julian, so that they can both get what they want. But the longer Yadriel spends with Julian, the less he wants to let him leave. — Cover image and summary via Bookshop.org

[goldenraeofsun]

would you have me, would you want me?

Part I

Castiel wipes his sweaty hands on his slacks. 

He tugs at the tie strangling him, and runs a hand through his hair. He grimaces. So much for all the preparation he put into his appearance in front of the mirror twenty minutes ago.

He inhales a deep breath and steps inside his high school for the first time in ten years.

The fluorescent lighting doesn’t do the old halls any favors, and the entryway, at least, smells violently of lemon-scented cleaner. There have been a few pathetic attempts at livening up the stubbornly beige walls - colorful signs mark the way to the gym, like Castiel would ever forget even after ten years.

It’s strange to see the place so empty.

“Hello!” Becky, their alumni representative, waves him over to a table just inside the entryway. It’s completely cluttered with bits of paper and blank name tags. “Are you here for the reunion?”

Castiel coughs. “Yes.”

“So glad to have you here,” Becky says as Castiel drags his feet closer. “Name?”

“Castiel Novak?”

“Oh!” Becky says, her eyes widening. “I hardly recognized you without the books, and the coat, and the...” she gestures vaguely to her own face, which Castiel takes to mean the semi-permanent scowl he wore all throughout high school. Before Castiel can react, she ducks her head and drags her finger down a clipboard. “Alright, Castiel, I’ll mark you down as present. Fill out a name tag if you want, and here are your tickets for your two drinks. Would you like to enter the fundraising raffle? We’re hoping to send the volleyball team to nationals this year.”

Castiel quails under Becky’s doe eyes and forks over ten dollars for the raffle. He also writes out a name tag, since his classmates might have the same reaction as Becky.

Armed with his name tag and drinks tickets, he follows the signs to the gym.

* * *

Cas wipes his sweaty hands on his slacks.

He shouldn’t have agreed to this. He doesn’t go to parties. He is not a partier. The closest he’s ever come to one was after his brother’s graduation, but that was eleven years ago. Cas was seven.

Cas successfully avoided all high school parties for the past three and a half years, but apparently nothing lasts forever.

Biting his lip, he presses down hard on Tessa’s doorbell. 

The door opens, and Cas barely has enough time to school his face into a less terrified expression before Tessa appears. “You’re not the pizza man,” she says, frowning.

Cas blinks at her. “I... sorry?” He offers the wine Uncle Marv gifted his parents, the one Cas’s mother promised never to drink in a million years.

Tessa’s face brightens as she takes it from him. “Who invited you?”

“Dean - Dean Winchester,” Cas says, like there could be any other Dean that mattered at Edlund High.

Tessa opens the door wider, calling over her shoulder, “Dean!”

Cas steps inside without waiting for Dean to rescue him. Dean is probably too occupied to see him inside - or so Cas assumes. He’s never been to a party like this before, but even the senior year loner hears about the types of things Dean gets up to at events like these. 

Cas follows Tessa past a flight of roped-off stairs further into the house. The noise and the people hit him full force in a dimly lit living room. Music blasts from speakers connected to a massive entertainment center. The whole area is jam-packed with teenagers and smells strongly of beer and hormones. Cas scans the crowd, recognizing more faces than not, to his relief. 

“Kitchen’s that way,” Tessa says loudly, pointing to a door, bright light spilling from beyond. “If you want to get a drink, be my guest.” She shoulders past a group of girls from Cas’s homeroom and disappears from sight.

Cas heads for the kitchen. Maybe he can clear his head there and come up with a plan. Or maybe he can get drunk enough not to care about all the bad decisions that led him here.

* * *

Castiel turns at the sound of his name.

He spins around in place, searching the faces in the gym for one he recognizes.

“Cas, you made it!”

Castiel stumbles as Charlie’s arms wrap around him. “I didn’t think you’d come,” she says as she steps away, a broad grin stretching across her face.

“I live in the next school district over. I’m sure people traveled farther than that.”

“Yeah, but,” Charlie says awkwardly, “I know high school wasn’t the best time for you.”

Castiel’s mouth twitches. “Only the last few months of senior year. The rest went well enough.” He scans the gym before meeting Charlie’s knowing gaze. 

Charlie winks at him. It’s not like she couldn’t put the pieces together herself. Most of their points of conversation revolve around a shared high school experience, so naturally Dean comes up once or twice (or a dozen times) during their sporadic get togethers.

It was even nice, sometimes, since Charlie is the only person from his teenage years he sees anymore. 

“I know what you’re talking about,” Charlie says with a shudder. “I got bangs for senior year. Bangs.”

Castiel smiles weakly. “You could have made worse decisions.”

"If we’re going to talk about how dumb we were as teenagers, then I’m going to need another drink,” Charlie says as they make their way to the makeshift bar. “Don’t worry,” she says in an undertone, “He’s not here yet.”

“He’s coming?”

Charlie throws him a look. “Dude, he’s the newest hire in the English department. There’s no way he got out of attending his own reunion.”

Castiel absentmindedly nods along as he looks around. There’s a slideshow projecting onto a far wall, showing candid shots from ten years ago. About fifty people mill around the gym, chatting in little groups, nobody Castiel recognizes. More than a few people huddle over their own on their phones, ignoring everyone else.

He asks, “Is this typically what happens at these things?”

“How should I know?” Charlie says as they get in line. “This is my first reunion too.”

Castiel turns to her. “You didn’t go to our five year?”

Charlie wrinkles her nose. “I was kind of in hot water for hacking into NORAD so I laid low in Norway until everything died down.”

Castiel shakes his head. “Why would a tech consultant for Roman Enterprises hack into NORAD?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Charlie shoots back.

Castiel has no retort prepared, so he steps up to trade his ticket for a glass of cheap wine. “How is Dorothy doing?”

“She’s good. Away at a meteorology conference, but those’re the hazards of dating a nerd.” Charlie exhales a long-suffering sigh, watching with mild interest as the bartender pours out Castiel’s glass.

Castiel snorts. “I wouldn’t know.”

Charlie elbows him playfully in the side. “’Course you don’t. You always liked them dumber, didn’t you?”

“Dean wasn’t dumb.”

Charlie cackles as she hands over her own ticket to the bartender. “I didn’t say anyone’s name.”

* * *

Cas turns at the sound of his name. 

“Dean?” he answers.

Tessa’s kitchen is only slightly quieter than the living room, but not much. There are fewer people here, though, which leaves Cas some breathing room. 

Dean strides up to him, a red cup of something in his hand and a grin on his face. Party-goer Dean doesn’t look any different than Student Dean, clad in worn jeans and his favorite Led Zeppelin short sleeved shirt. “Hey, man. I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“Of course,” Cas says, clutching his own drink tightly. “You invited me.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean says, his gaze skittering away, “this isn’t your usual scene, though.”

“I can try new things.” Cas takes a sip of his punch and makes a face at the overwhelmingly sweet taste. “It is our senior year, so I thought it might be time.”

“Whatever, man,” Dean says with a laugh, “as long as it got you out of the library.”

Cas’s frown deepens. “What’s wrong with the library?”

“Nothing,” Dean says, eyes widening. He raises his free hand, palm out, in a gesture of no-harm. “It’s just not the sort of place you’d go for a good time, you know what I mean?”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “I’ve had plenty of good times in the library.”

Dean snorts a laugh. “Not the kind I was talking about, Cas.”

Cas hasn’t ever gotten blown in the book stacks of the library like some pornography had indicated was possible, but he won’t call his time spent there a total waste. He says, “If it hadn’t been for our enjoyable tutoring sessions in the library, I wouldn’t be here.”

Dean beams at him. “Yeah, I’m kind of sorry they’re over, but I guess our grades don’t matter any more.”

“What?” Cas blinks at him. “Our grades matter.”

“Dude, it’s April.”

“Colleges can still rescind acceptance letters.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Come on, you nerd,” he grabs Cas by the hand. “We can’t block the line to the booze or Tessa'll murder me.”

Cas lets himself get led back out into the living room, a bemused expression on his face. The music and the chatter of a dozen different conversations hit him like a palpable slap to the face.

“What do we do now?” Cas asks loudly, as he throws back the rest of his cup of punch. It is much more tolerable in larger, quicker doses.

Dean glances around before leaning closer so Cas could hear him. “Whatever you want.”

Cas shivers as Dean’s breath ghosts over his ear and down his neck.

“We got the dancers, the stoners, the wallflowers,” Dean points each out, “the horndogs...”

Cas tears his gaze away from Charlie and Gilda, entwined on the couch. “Where do you fall?”

“Me?” Dean asks, surprised. He holds up his drink, a smile playing around his lips. “It’s a little early to tell. This is only my third one. Speaking of,” he takes Cas’s drink and drains it, “We should get you another one. You’re barely caught up to me.”

Cas dumbly takes his cup back. If he refills this cup, his lips might touch the same surface Dean’s had. The ghost of a kiss.

It was a technique old Hollywood films used to indicate romantic attraction, since kissing on-screen was heavily restricted. Characters would share cigarettes, food, and drinks instead of touching, especially if the relationship was taboo and wouldn’t pass the censors.

Cas stares up at Dean, uncomprehending.

“Come on, man,” Dean says as he nudges Cas back towards the kitchen. “Before all the good booze is gone.”

* * *

Castiel chokes on his drink.

Charlie gives him a few hard whacks on the back, giggling under her breath. “I know Dean’s hot and all, but that doesn’t mean you have to do a spit take when you see him.”

“I was surprised,” Castiel says defensively as he desperately tries to regain his composure.

“Uh huh.” Charlie smirks, eyebrows waggling. “Want me to call him over? I don’t think he’s spotted us yet.”

Castiel swallows down the rising tide of panic in the back of his throat. For God’s sake, he’s nearly thirty years old. He can’t go to pieces over Dean Winchester, not again. 

It’s just been a while. He hasn’t had a boyfriend in several years. All his friends, Charlie included, are taken or aromantic, and lately Castiel’s been feeling like the odd bachelor out.

Dean probably isn’t all Castiel has been building up in his head. It’s been ten years, after all. Dean must have changed.

Castiel certainly has. He’s no longer the loner who filled his life with facts and grades instead of friends. Well, he still has school, but at least this time around he’s the one grading tests instead of being graded.

But it’s Dean. The one who got away - or ran away, in Dean’s case.

Charlie waves and calls Dean’s name, and, before Castiel can wrap his head around what’s happening, Dean is in front of them, in all his glory. Ten years older, but no less handsome. He still has those barely-there freckles splattered across his cheeks.

“So how’ve you been?” Dean asks Charlie.

“Can’t complain.” Charlie shakes her head. “I got a new haircut.”

“The bob suits you, Red,” Dean says, grinning as he reaches out to ruffle it.

Charlie dodges, one finger in his face in warning. “You touch it and you die, Handmaiden. It doesn’t look this natural naturally.”

“Fair,” Dean says, hands in the air.

Castiel watches them both, a sinking feeling in his gut. He’s been here before, watching from the sidelines as Dean joked and teased his friends. In the same room but also miles away.

He shouldn’t have expected any different.

Ten years, and nothing has changed.

But then Charlie punches Dean in the arm, throwing a significant look at Castiel, and Castiel’s mood sinks lower. He doesn’t need Charlie to make Dean pay attention to him; that wasn’t the point of coming here tonight.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says quietly.

Castiel clears his throat. “Hello, Dean.”

Onto Part II

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

Well hello there! Boy am I gonna be annoying (Im so sorry)

💻 for Jem and Alastair Carstairs with prompt (idk if this is too specific or not enough) where Jem saves Alastair from being wrongfully imprisoned because of the murders or just them bonding over anything

💡 and 👑

....also 🎺 for christopher lightwood

Thank youuu!

oooooh boy okay!! thanks for sending this in, i hope you enjoy it lol ❤💚💙 also happy new years!!! 🎉🎁

so first, here’s the one-shot (lmao it ain’t gonna be a one-shot tho lol OOPS-) 

song that reminds me of christopher lightwood

this one was super hard bc I feel like we’ve talked about all the songs lol, for anyone who’s not you, pls listen to “The Astronomer” from Ghost Quartet bc it is the BEST kit lightwood vibes!!! 

for you tho it’s gonna be “Galileo” by the Indigo Girls, idk I like the chorus “How long 'til my soul gets it right / Can any human being ever reach that kind of light / I call on the resting soul of Galileo / King of night vision, king of insight”

character and excerpt from my WIP

okay so for this one I’m gonna give you TWO characters and who they are in my actual WIP, and then an excerpt from the no-magic short story I wrote for my creative writing class! 

Leena is a shapeshifter who can shift into a tree (pls don’t ask what I was on when I decided that I was like 14) and has both plant-reviving powers and basic healing powers in her human form. She’s bad at math (also, just, school) and feels almost constantly overwhelmed by the expectations placed on her (from parents, professors, even friends) but is a very caring person and an excitable friend. 

Liz is a shapeshifter who can shift into a bird (a crane, specifically) and is generally not a very easy person to be friends with. She’s had a difficult life and she appears very closed off to most people, claiming to just be introverted but in truth is fairly lonely, she’s just lost at navigating any type of social situation. i s2g i know she sounds like alastair but i swear they’re not the same

the excerpt under the cut! 

The first time Liz went birdwatching, she was a freshman in college. It was an easier adjustment for her than most -- not much to leave behind -- but that only exemplified how different she felt from all of her peers. She’d never been good at making or keeping friends (one of her high school guidance counselors called her “prickly”) and being constantly moved by the foster system never helped. While she watched her classmates and roommate fall into the rhythm of a university social life, she spent more and more of the daytime in the library and more and more of the nighttime ruminating over her loneliness. When the sun began to rise before she’d even had a chance to rest her eyes, she started to go on walks to watch both the birds and the sun awaken for the day. 

She’d known a lot about birds already, but she’d never had the freedom to look for them herself before. As it would turn out, birdwatching was much harder than she thought. It required patience and quiet and constant, careful attention, and if she was being honest, the slightly purple lighting from the fading night sky, the biting chill in the air, and the complete absence of the typical bustling of students between classes and meetings could be unsettling that early in the morning. She connected with a birdwatching club in the area -- mostly older women who lived in the neighborhood, but she didn’t mind -- and the more she learned about the local birds, the easier it was to spot the common ones. Every week, though, she’d hear the other women talk about their rarer finds, and she’d realize that, compared to these women, birdwatching was just another thing she was bad at. 

She met Leena in their calculus class at the beginning of the semester, but they’d never spoken, not until their professor paired them off for a group project. Liz had respectfully protested -- who assigns group work in a calculus class, anyways -- but her professor insisted that they might all benefit from a little extra support from one another. 

By the time the project was turned in, Leena had realized that she could use a bit of help with calculus and Liz had realized that she could use a friend. She’d never seen herself as patient or clear at articulating herself, but Leena insisted she was the first person she’d ever met that could make math make sense. They began to meet regularly to work on problem sets, and sometimes just to talk. Nothing was perfect, especially not after Liz accidentally made herself an enemy to half of Leena’s friends, but no one asked for perfect. 

The night that Leena first kissed her, her whole world spun. In hindsight, it was awkward and sloppy, but in the moment, she couldn’t dare to dream of anything more. 

That night, she fell asleep without issue for the first time in years. She woke the next morning while the sky was still dark. Checking the time, she knew that the sun would begin to rise soon. She pulled on a hoodie and took off through campus. She felt lighter on her feet then than she’d felt since her mom passed, barely resisting the urge to dance through the streets, basking in the excitement. 

As the sun just barely began to creep up, she heard a hoot. She froze and scanned the trees and telephone poles around her. Her eyes found it quickly -- an owl, a rare sight. As she tiptoed closer, her eyes rested on the curves of his ears. The ladies at the birdwatching club were going to be so jealous.

[squarecarousel]

Interview with Caitlin Alexander

Well folks, we're nearly at the end of our Square Carousel journey, and there are just two interviews left – both with two of our longest-standing members! Today, we reconnect with Caitlin Alexander, who has been with the Square Carousel Collective from its very beginning almost 10 years ago. Although we've featured an interview with her here in the past, it's been so long that we are due for an update! When she's not freelancing or performing her duties as an SC admin extraordinaire, Caitlin works tirelessly on her craft, creating prints, products, hand lettered posters, and artwork that embrace the earthy beauty of nature. With a strong focus on environmentalism and a sense of community, her artwork exudes a warmth and complexity that draws the viewer in and invites them to stay a while. Read on for her gems of wisdom!

Make Earth Cool Again

Q: Comparing your early work from your first few years after college to your most recent pieces, you've kept a lot of the textural, playful essence of your style while refining certain elements. Has your process changed much since those early days, and if so, what do you now do differently? 

 A: Such a great question straight out of the gate! My process has changed quite a bit since I graduated in 2011 (almost a decade ago... yikes!). In college, part of my crafted identity as a brand-new illustrator was my traditional use of gouache paint. I actually, in all honestly, was kind of a snob about it, because so many people in our department worked solely digitally. I felt that digital painting was a crutch, which I suppose can be true in some cases, and possibly even more-so when you're applying that to college students, but I certainly had no ground to stand on. In reality, my snobbery kept me from learning critical tools, as I never took Photoshop or Illustrator classes, aside from the one that was required for graduation. This hindered my work a great deal outside of college, given that illustration is so often paired with graphic design, and editing work for clients was so much more difficult traditionally. In 2013, I got a job designing t-shirts, and lied to the company, saying I knew how to use Illustrator. Luckily it was remote, so I was able to teach myself without anyone hovering over me, but that was so foolish, looking back, given the expensive education I got at SCAD should have been my opportunity to learn those things. I introduced digital work more and more over the years, and by 2016 or so, I was primarily a digital artist. Gouache will always have a place in my heart, and I will still break out the tubes occasionally, but working digitally has allowed me to grow so much more as an illustrator, with the ability to edit, paint with more detail, and having more control over color and layering. 

Q: Of all the projects you've done in your professional career, which would you say is closest to your heart? 

 A: Probably the picture book I worked on a couple of years ago, titled "Cool For You." I had a lot of creative freedom for that project, and the subject matter of climate change is personally very important to me. Working with the author, Marianna, was really wonderful, as well. 

Cool For You book cover

Q: The Southwest influence on your work is pretty significant, and I think it's safe to assume you appreciate the majesty of the landscape in your region of the country. However, if you had to live in another state, which would you choose and why? 

 A: Funny you ask that, because I've actually considered moving from Texas to Colorado lately! The culture there is still very western, but I appreciate the liberal point of view (Texas has been grating on me lately, even living in Austin), and the landscape is even more stunning out there! I'd be close to so many inspiring National Parks. Plus, summers wouldn't be 8 months of the year and over 100 degrees for half of it! 

Travel West postcard (1 of 6)

Q: TV shows or movies? 

 A: Lately, Jordan and I have been watching New Girl on repeat. I'm not usually one to watch a show or movie over and over again, but I think we really just needed something light and fun, since life has been so very stressful over the last year.

Q: What's your favorite subject to draw? 

 A: This one is hard! I'm torn between people and landscapes. People are more fun and comfortable for me, and I could knock out a bunch of them quickly. Landscapes are always intimidating, and I'm nervous the whole time, feeling like I can't remember how I did it the time before. It's so strange, because it always ends up fine! But since I feel that way, the payoff is so much greater when I feel satisfied with the final result. 

Q: What would a perfect day look like for you? A: I probably would have answered this totally differently pre-COVID, but in this current world we live in, I would absolutely love to have what used to be a normal, uneventful weekend day for me: Jordan and I would sleep in a little, see an early afternoon movie at the Alamo Drafthouse where we'd eat lunch, then spend the rest of the afternoon browsing used book stores and estate sales, and then meet our friends at the neighborhood coffeehouse for dinner and Trivia Night. I will be so happy to have that again. 

Cover art for East Side Magazine

Book Lover Ladies series- The Book Clubbers

Q: What have you learned from your years at Square Carousel, whether organizing behind the scenes or as a contributor? 

 A: Oooof!! So SO many things! Wow... well, I'll go with the most obvious first: as a member, I learned how to continue to make portfolio-worthy work, even without jobs coming in. That was definitely the most valuable thing about Square Carousel, in my opinion, and hopefully what everyone else got out of it, as well. It can be so hard for fresh graduates to keep up that momentum, and the group saved many of us from becoming stagnant. In terms of running the group... it's been rewarding, but honestly very difficult throughout the years. There have been many ups and downs, and finding the right balance between structure and patience can be extremely challenging. I'm super proud of Elizabeth and myself (OG members!) for keeping it running through the messes-- we've been through some shit together! My major takeaway is the importance of diligence. Projects, businesses, organizations-- they all need at least a couple of people who just keep chugging along, always maintaining the structure (schedule and accountability) and balance (rules and lighthearted encouragement). 

Moth magnets

Q: As the readers are aware, Square Carousel drawing to a close soon. Do you have any plans for what you'll do with the extra time you'll have after our tri-weekly challenges end? 

 A: You know, I actually haven't thought about this too much yet. It's probably because I'll just fill it with more self-imposed projects and deadlines, since I was able to bring that skill I learned in Square Carousel into the rest of my career a while ago. (Or more real jobs! That would be ideal!) I'll miss the community though, and hope to find a way to keep that aspect of freelance life alive. Instagram friends, anyone? 

Q: What's your quirkiest habit? 

 A: Jordan told me recently that he found it weird and endearing that I joke-sing to my cats in the kitchen about really stupid stuff... so probably that! Official Cat Lady© status achieved.

Caitlin and Buster Keaton the Kitten

Q: What advice would you give to a newbie illustrator just starting out today? 

 A: I'd give them the hard advice that our professors didn't really give us in school: there is no way this is going to work out for you if you're not incredibly committed to pursuing it. Now, don't get me wrong-- I'm not telling anyone to have an unhealthy work/life balance because I think that's a toxic sentiment. But you have to keep illustrating and illustrating and illustrating, and arguably more importantly, keep networking and networking and networking. You're going to be rejected or ghosted more often than not, but if you really want it to work out, you're going to keep doing it anyway. And taking critiques if industry folks offer them, to grow and become better. Don't become stagnant in those critical building years.

Caitlin’s studio

Q: Anything else you would like the readers to know? 

A: Yes – thank you so much for supporting Square Carousel through our amazing ten years of challenges! We really appreciate everyone who has kept up with us, checking out the illustrations for each prompt and reading our posts and interviews. Y'all are wonderful, and we hope you'll continue to find us, wherever each of us fly from here! And on that sweet note, we say goodbye for now! Check out Caitlin’s website for more, and follow her on Instagram for new art when it drops.

Join us next time for our final interview!

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Kissing Dead Pearls (Final Part)

There are places where lives unfold and places where lives come to an end, more often than not these places are one and the same. Sometimes these places are quaint harbor towns where buildings are centuries older than any of the citizens currently hustling in and out of them. Sometimes these places are have cliffsides that are older than even the buildings, worked at and eroded by waves significantly more timeless than them. Often these cliffsides see thunderous clouds and tempestuous waves, lit by forks of lightning and filled by curtains of rain. And more often than folks like to admit, these towns have their ghosts; sails on the horizon during a storm, ladies in billowing white dresses that stand at the edge of cliffs, and speters that travel through arches of limestone. It might be that the towns folk get bored and invent legends, or perhaps it is a tourist thrill, still it could be that some of the inhabitants need a good ghost to keep them secure in the realm of the living.

In such a town, the rain could be pouring and lightning could be bursting in the sky. People might be rushing to pack in their picnic food and snatch up their umbrellas. Some of them are too late, like a boy named Jet and a girl named Jin. Their umbrella has lifted out of the sand and is riding the gales out towards the sea. It wasn’t his idea of what a date should look like, but at least it was a thrilling one.

Others have more luck on their side; more or less. A married couple could be safely tucked into their restaurant had they decided to take down their patio umbrellas and move their chairs inside sooner.

Inside of a restaurant called La-bsters there is a rather interesting cluster of people. Mostly there are tourists and people who have hustled into the building for shelter from the rain. But there are also two teens interviewing for their first jobs. A girl will venture out of the town for the first time to study marine biology and her friend, Toph will take her place waitressing for the restaurant. There is also a bald boy and his dog, the three are an inseparable duo and Aang swears that he will teach the dog to be a good employee too.

The restaurant is cozy. It is home. In a quaint harbor town that seems caught within a bygone era, anywhere is home really. It is no wonder that some people are hesitant to leave. When home is so warm and inviting, so safe and unchanging, why would a person ask to leave?

For some it is a need for change, a yearning for something new. A desire to see the world with a knowing that they can come back to their harbor town and see it nearly as it was when they had left. Nearly, but not quite. For everything evolves. Everything changes. And if you know a place well, then the most subtle of changes are extraordinarily profound.

The rain pummels the roof of La-bsters as Toph high fives Aang, “Congrats on your first summer job, Twinkle Toes!”

“Yeah, you too.” He smiles meekly.

“When do we start?” She asks.

“How about on the first day that we have some sunny weather?” Hakoda offers.

A table away sits a group of four, they split a platter of fries, onion rings, and hot wings. Azula douses the wings in an extremely generous amount of spicy dipping sauce. “Seriously, I can’t eat this!” Sokka exclaims, eyes watering. “My mouth is burning!”

Azula smirks. “Yes, that’s the point. Either you’re going to build up your spice tolerance or I am going to have all of the wings to myself.”

“Not if I can help it.” Zuko plucks one of the wings. He takes his first bite. After swallowing he clears his throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Katara.”

“Go ahead.”

“We’re still having a hard time building the lighthouse back up after how far behind we’ve fallen. I was planning on opening up a restaurant of my own. It’s going to be more like a bakery and I’ll run it from the lighthouse.”

“My idea.” Azula cuts in.

“I thought that it would be smart to…” He backtracks. “Azula thought that it would be smart to partner up with La-bsters. It’s going to be folklore and ghost story themed and stuff. Do you think that your parents would want that.”

“Ask them, Zuko.” Katara laughs. “They’ve never said no before!”

“Speaking of parents, how has your dad been?” Sokka asks, nostrils still flared from his second attempt to eat one of the wings. He fans his face.

“He’s a year sober now.” Azula replies.

“He and uncle are planning some kind of road trip to relive the glory days.”

“Why are you cringing?” Katara laughs.

“Do you know what their glory days looked like?” Zuko asks.

“Father just wants to make up for wasting so much of his time on drinks and grief.” Azula shrugs. Silently, she thinks that he just wants to enjoy one more summer before life moves on. Or maybe she is just projecting; for as much as she had fought Sokka on it, it would be nice to have one last summer where everything is as it was, simple and thrilling. Now that she has eliminated his hesitancy, she will indulge him in one more summer of old habits and nostalgia.

She will begin it with one final surf competition and end it with the annual beachview music festival.  That will be nice, considering that they’d missed last year’s. She peers at her surfboard, which she has propped up against the corner. She is going to miss it, how could she not when she had spent so much time riding waves on it? But it is time to put it aside, the sea calls her in a different direction and she has already made the necessary arrangements to answer it. And besides, she thinks it would be kind to allow Chan and Ruon their time to shine. They have more passion for the sport than she. They have worked their whole lives for that competition.

They will be performing Port TuiLa’s first partner routine. ‘Brave and risky! Daring and fun!’ So the townspeople declare. She will do her own routine, but it will be more lax and mundane. Her father and uncle will be there with bouquets of hibiscus, lais, and smoothies, weather she wins it or not. There will be a party in their backyard, a BBQ that doubles as her birthday party and her victory celebration. She will slip an invite to Jet; if he makes an appearance it will be just like old times. If he steers clear...she supposes that, that is just the nature of things. People get hurt and people grow apart.

“Go and ask them, Zuzu.” She nudges as Hakoda enters the building completely drenched.

Zuko takes a deep breath, stands, and rolls his shoulders. Azula rolls her eyes. “So dramatic. How long have we known them?”

Katara laughs and gently pushes him forward.

“Have you decided what you are going to do yet?” Azula asks.

Sokka bites down gently on his cheek. “Khozen has been teaching me to sail again. I know that you wanted me to leave Port TuiLa but I don’t think I’m ready for a change that big and I don’t really like the idea of college anyways.” He rubs the back of his head. “I was thinking of learning to fish, that way I can help bring in some seafood for La-bsters and be around for mom and dad after Katara leaves.”

Azula blinks. “That actually sounds like a good plan.”

He chuckles, albeit, a little nervously. “Yeah. I figured that, that way I could start something new but also stick to the place that makes me happy.” He pauses. “It’s just gonna be weird not having you guys around.” He gestures to she and Katara.

“You’ll have Zuko.” Katara points out.

“We’re trying to make him feel better, Katara.”

“I can still hear you guys!” Zuko calls.

Sokka gives a snorting laugh. The kind that works its way around the table and reaches the door. From its frame a sopping wet Mai remarks, “well that’s my one laugh for today.”

“What are we talking about?” TyLee asks.

“Plans for the future.” Azula pulls up a chair. “Suki and I are going to beauty school! She wants to learn to do special effects makeup. I’m going to make everyone in Port TuiLa beautiful!”

“Good luck with Long Feng.” Mai mumbles and helps herself to a french fry. “I’m going to study mortuary science. It’ll give me something to talk about at dinner.”

“What about you, Azula?” TyLee asks. “You still going to pro-surf?”

It hadn’t really taken much thought to decide, not when the path had made itself so clear. She shakes her head, “no, I have something different in mind.”

“Does father know?” Zuko asks, taking his seat.

“He will.” Azula replies. That is her only hang up, the prospect of disappointing him. But she thinks that her desired career is admirable enough. Surely it is indisputably well suited to her. “I’m going to be a coast guard. I already have experience, more than I should.”

The sea has taken a lot from her but she has taken a lot back. And she will take more back, more and more until it doesn’t hurt. More and more until she knows that she can see her mother again with the ability to inform her that her death didn’t amount to nothing. The waves may have stolen her life but they haven’t stolen the energy she put forth.

The sea will take more lives, likely it will take them right out of Azula’s hands. But it will take less than it would have if she gets her way.

“Thanks to you,” she looks at Sokka, “and all the attention that your story got, I think that my chances are very good.”

“Hey, can we stop talking about the future now and start living in the moment!?” Toph calls. “I’ve got five dollars for the jukebox and twenty for the arcade.”

“How about we spend twenty on the jukebox and five on the arcade?” Sokka asks.

Azula elbows him. “Do you even know twenty dollars worth of good songs?”

“I know plenty of amazing tracks!”

She slings her arm around him. “Your music taste is still stuck on hits from ten years ago.”

And so they listen to twenty dollars worth of songs that she hasn’t heard since they were kids. Their summer starts with the past and plays out as it always has, right until when the leaves would start to change. And just as they always have, they close the summer with an all night music festival on the beach. Sparklers, smoke bombs, and melting ice cream cones. Fireworks and kisses and the same gaggle of friends. The same group plus one, not that Jin hadn’t been an amusing addition.

.oOo.

It only makes sense that she departs on a stormy night. Her car is loaded and the remaining tents and banners of her goodbye party flap in the wind. Sokka presses his head to her forehead and gives her a rather lengthy kiss. Long enough to have her father retreating back into the house to fetch her a parting gift. She won’t open it until she reaches boot camp. It is a simple photo album that her mother had made.

She pulls out of the kiss and Ozai hands her the giftbox. “Your mother would be proud.”

“And you?”

Ozai sighs. “I think that you already know the answer to that.” He ruffles her hair. He hasn’t done that in ages. “I best see you in a uniform when you visit for the holidays.”

“You will, father.” She smiles.

“Take care of father?” Azula requests quietly to Zuko. “Keep him on track, okay?”

“I’ll keep him busy.” Zuko promise with a gesture to the lighthouse and his brand new business. “Trust me, I will.”

She doesn’t doubt it in the slightest. “Alright, well I’m getting soaked so…”

“I’ll see you later, Azula.”

She nods and gives a little wave.

Sokka puts his arm around her and leads her to her car. She buckles herself in and turns her head for one final kiss. “Call me when you get there.” It isn’t a question. “Of course I will, Sokka.” She answers anyhow. He waves again and she rolls up her window. Windshield wipers throw drops off of the window as she steers her way down the winding lighthouse driveway.

The Sea Candle rests on the cliff shining her way as it always has. And it will be there to guide her home when the day comes. She casts one final look at the town in her rearview mirror. She can swear that, in the beam of the lighthouse she can see faint sails, bobbing haphazardly in the waves.

[kileyrose-2003]

Rose the Hat x Fem! Reader

A/N: Hello lovelies! This request was made by @mewbleu I hope you enjoy. I'm sorry it took so long to write. Bare with me everyone as I have another imagine coming out this week and part 2 of the fanfic coming soon.

Warnings: Child death, violence, implied alcoholism, blood, implied sexual content, violence against children

From the time you were small, you always knew you were different. Your parents both had the shining like you. They always insisted it was good thing, a gift in all actuality and that you were special. Most people couldn't do things like project out of body or see things so far in advance it benefited others, but you could.

Though you didn't know if being special was a good thing in your case. You had a natural healer energy and people often grew attached to you but with its pros came its cons.

Dark entities or 'ghost people' as you liked to call them, sometimes found their way to you. The pretty woman in the hat being the most recurring one in particular.

She was different than all the other ghost you seen. For one thing, the beginning interactions you had with her were friendly but also she wasn't dead. She was alive.

When you first talked about it with your mom she was confused. She too could see spirit but they never were alive.

Your mother thought she had to be dead based off the way you described her. While your own parents raised you in a very bohemian upbringing and they considered themselves to be hippies, they didn't dress like Rose.

They didn't know anyone who still owned silk top from the sixties and had such antiquities adorn in their hair. At first she brushed it off that maybe you were mistaken and that maybe it was possible you did make friends with some young hippie that may be possibly dead but it didn't bother her. She was oddly happy for you.

In the beginning, Rose was sort of your friend in a way. It brought you a sense of warmth that you never felt before. You didn't have any friends your age that could do any of the same things that you could and while Rose was far from your age, she'd still show you little tricks with her mind and reaffirm your thoughts and that was good enough for you.

"I feel lonely," You told her one night as her apparition stood in your room, staring at you silently from the empty side of your bed. "My mommy and daddy are like us but I didn't know there were people like you out there who could see ghostie people too."

Rose smiled at you and sat down at the foot of your bed. "There are alot of people like us out there. It's just a matter of finding the most special ones and you my darling, are very special."

The words brought a smile to your face and you blushed, feeling a sense of secureness in knowing that it wasn't just your parents who seen how different you were.

"Thanks. Am I ever going to meet you, pretty lady in the hat? I like you." Normaly you enjoyed Rose's smile but in that moment the grin on her face hinted at darkness that laid below the surface of her beautiful front.

"Maybe when you're a little older and you have more magic in you but for right now, no." You frowned and Rose reached her hand forward to take your petite one in hers, although it did no good because your hand sunk right through her transparent ones.

"Don't be sad though, it's a good thing," She reassured you. "Okay." You laid back in bed and rolled onto your side. "Goodnight, pretty lady in the hat."

"Goodnight, Y/n." She'd stay with you until you fell asleep and when you woke up in the morning, she'd be gone. It was an enjoyable having a friend like her.

As you got older though, the more you started to question just exactly how much of a friend she really was.

You had a baby sitter who was a bright, young college student who liked to indulge your 'over active imagination' as she called it but you didn't mind that she didn't understand. Just that she listened to you was enough to make you happy to be around her while your parents were out.

The one night as you got ready for bed you begged and begged for her to braid your hair. Of course she obliged but it wasn't without curiosity.

"Can we put ribbon in it too?" You asked excitedly, practically bouncing up and down. "Like weave it in there?"

You nodded excitedly and she attempted to add the ribbon in. "Did you see someone on TV with their hair like this and that's why you want it like this?"

You giggled and shook your head. "Not on TV, in my room!" The girl would of been lying if she said she didn't feel a hint of chills running down her spine.

"Your room?" You nodded happily and snuggled your patchwork doll close to your chest. "Mhm. She's really pretty but she doesn't have ribbon in her hair though."

"Oh? What does she have then?"

"Buttons and yarn. I think she might have that metal thingy on a bike too."

Your baby sitter narrowed her eyes. "A bike chain?" You shrugged. "Maybe. I think that's what it's called anyways. What's the matter? You looked scared."

The young girl shook her head and smiled. "I-it's nothing, sweetie. Come on, let's get you all tucked in bed."

You eagerly snuggled into the covers, hiding yourself away from the cold outside. "Sweet dreams, Y/n. Dream safely."

"Goodnight," You hummed softly and rolled onto your side, quickly drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

When your parents got home later she voiced her concern to your mother in quiet. "I know Y/n is different from other kids she..understands more but I just thought I'd tell you because I thought it was a little alarming."

"We've known about this for a while," She mused as she watered some of her plants. "I don't see her. Y/n does but I'll look into it."

Over the next few weeks your mom began asking more about Rose, trying to pry information about her out of you.

"Why does her name matter?" You snapped as your mom tucked you in. "Because if she's your friend you should at least know her name. So what it is?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. She never told me."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know mommy. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Okay," She hummed and kissed the top of your head. "Goodnight sweetheart."

"Night mommy." You rolled over onto your side, staring at the wall for a while. By that point Rose would of normally be already sitting at the bottom of your bed, but not tonight.

'Maybe she's busy.' You told yourself as you pulled your stuffed doll close to your chest. "Goodnight pretty lady in the hat," You mumbled into the air and began to drift off to sleep.

Normally when you slept it was uninterrupted and deep but that night was different. You kept tossing and turning. Not because you weren't comfortable but because something was wrong somewhere.

After another ten minutes of rolling around you sat up in bed, still holding your doll close. You looked around your room for a few seconds, trying to find anything that could be the source of discomfort but nothing.

"It's just like pictures in a book," You whispered aloud and closed your eyes. "They're not real." When you opened your eyes you found yourself standing in the middle of the woods. The weather was warm and muggy. Even in your light fabric pajamas, you were hot.

When you breathed in you could smell the overwhelming aroma of embers burning from a campfire. You let out a cough and followed the burning light through the woods.

'Don't do it.' That inner voice inside said but you pushed it away, thinking that maybe if you seen what was going on you could help. But something kept pulling you forward.

We are The True Knot

What is tied may mever be untied

We Endure

Your made your way down the beaten path and what was there horrified you. A group of people stood their. Like a chain of paper dolls or snowflakes chanting.

You seen your mother do chants in her meditation but this was completely different.

The worse part was the body on the green grass. The girl on the ground was maybe your age. 5 to 7 years old.

You heard the name Violet being whispered in your ear and you let out a scared cry.

A cloud of what you hought was campfire smoke was above the group. Next to the body was Rose. Her hands like bloody gloves confessing to her sins and a man with intense eyes. Like a Crow. They all turned to stare at you.

The pretty lady in the hat, no Rose! That was her name, smiled at you contently. "Well! Hi there!" She greeted and you immediately started to cry.

"Aww, what's wrong sweetie? Aren't you happy to see me?" You shook your head, backing up towards a tree. "Y-you can't hurt me when I'm like this!"

"Oh silly girl. I'm not going to hurt you." She pinned you against the tree and you dug your little hands into the bark.

"Then what are you going to do to me?" You sobbed and Rose knelt down to your level. "I'm going to keep you here. Don't you want to go home and join our family?"

Her hand bore down on your wrist hard enough to hurt and you let out a scream. As Rose was about to drag you away a light shined above the two of you and the entire space faded away into darkness.

"Get the hell away from her!" Your mother bellowed and Rose let go of your wrist. "Mama!" You cried and looked up at the light.

Rose growled and narrowed her eyes. "You just messed with the wrong bitch! She's mine!"

"No, she's not!" The environment around you both shook and Rose went flying into the darkness and before you knew it you were back in your room, crying into your mother's arms.

"It's okay," She soothed and kissed the top of your head as she rocked you back and forth. You cried and held onto her shirt.

"They killed her!" Your mom rubbed your back and let out a pained sigh. "I know..I know."

You sobbed into her that whole night, desperately wishing for the first time in your short life you weren't special.

You felt hurt that someone you had grown close to could hurt someone like that. It was a recurring theme and lapse of faith in yourself you had to deal with every day over the years.

You never seen Rose again after that but her presence in your house left an aftermath of chaos and your mother devoted all her time to protecting you from her because she was sure even if it wasn't in the near future you would see her again.

It tore your parents relationship apart and not after, they both decided to go their seperate ways. Even though both of them insisted it had nothing to do with you, you couldn't help but blame yourself.

Everything was so normal and so at peace until she came along. As you grew older you grew to despise her and tried your hardest to block her out of your thoughts but sometimes your memories of her managed to slip back in. The pain she caused you was so great it was hard to forget.

You were twenty now and on your way back from the grocery/ liquor store run when you felt like you were being watched.

It was unusual because after the whole ordeal with Rose, you were paranoid of being watched to begin with but this was a different feeling. Someone was in your mind.

You were about look out of the mirror of your car to see if anyone was behind you when you felt your phone ringing in your pocket.

You pulled it out and answered and as you turned into the road leading to your apartment complex.

"Hello?"

"Y/n?" You let out a sigh and grip the steering wheel. "Hi mom."

"Why haven't you called me? It's been three days since I've spoken to you."

"I know, mom. I-"

"Have you been drinking?"

You looked down at the bag of liquor sitting in your passenger seat. "No," You answered carefully. "Of course not."

"Bullshit. You forget you lived with me as a teenager and I know your drinking voice."

You drove up into your parking spot and stopped the car. "I know, mom. I know."

"Then why are you lying to me?"

"C-can we please just get off the subject?!" You whispered harshly and grabbed your bag of liquor off the seat.

"Sure, sorry. I just worry about you, you know?" You could hear the tiredness and hurt in her voice.

"I know mama. I'm sorry," You whispered softly and walked up the stairs to the second floor. "It's okay sweetie. How was your day?"

You put the key in the lock to your apartment door. "It was alright. I went grocery shopping today."

"How was that?"

"Good." You opened the door. "I got some really cool looking-" You seen a woman sitting on your sofa and let out a scream.

"Well, hi there!" You dropped your bag of groceries on the floor, picking your head up to look in your living room.

"Y/n?! Is everything okay?" You debated on saying something but Rose made a silent tutting gesture with her hand.

"I-i'll have to call you back," You mumbled into the phone. "And if I don't, know that I love you."

"What?" Your mother screamed. "Y/n, don't hang you up on me! Y/n! Y/n-" You hung up and shoved your phone in your pocket.

"I-i remember you. You're the-" Rose smiled viciously and stood up from her spot on the sofa. "The pretty lady in the hat? Such a fitting name for me, isn't it?"

You nodded nervously, eliciting a giggle from Rose. She was by far the most beautiful woman you'd ever seen but mixed in with that beauty was her insanity. Just by looking in her eyes could tell this woman was an utter psychopath.

"No need to be scared of me, sweetie." She kicked the bags of groceries aside and moved closer to you, pinning you against the wall. "I told you you'd see me one day."

"What if I made up my mind?" She grinned and caressed your cheek. "Why on earth would you want to do that, huh? Still such a bright and clever girl, so so pretty too."

You lowered your head, refusing to look at Rose. "What do you want?" She picked your head up with her fingers and held it high. "I want to take you on a trip. Don't you want to meet my friends? I remember you did when you were little." She placed a kiss against your cheek.

You pushed her away and Rose looked on at you slightly taken aback. "No, I don't. What I want is for you to get the hell out of my apartment."

Rose shoved you against the wall and caressed your cheek. "My, such a temper. You know, I don't care for being talked back to."

You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut, feeling so small and trapped. "Please let me go."

"Aww, no sweetie. No, I won't. You already got away from me once and it won't happen again." She kissed your neck, nipping at your cartilage afterwards. Her bright, murderous eyes you remembered all too well shone when she pulled away and you felt the hair on your arms stand straight up. "Still such a special little thing, aren't you?"

You gasped and tried to run from her but Rose was quick, wrapping her arms tightly around your waist. "Only a little pinch."

"No! No! Please!" You begged, hearing her uncap the needle. "I'll see you later, sweetheart."

"No! No-" The needle of the syringe pricked the sensitive skin on your neck and as Rose pushed down on the plunger flunge you felt yourself going limper. After a few seconds your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you dropped to the floor.

"That's it," She cooed and scooped you up in her arms. "Hope you're ready for our little road trip." She carried you out to her trailer and you were never seen by anyone who knew you again.

Part 2

A few hours later you kicked and screamed as Rose carried you out of the RV. "No! No! No!" You begged and flopped against her. "Please..please! I won't tell! I swear."

"Honey, it's not personal and I know you wouldn't but it's just not a practical option." She dropped you on the ground roughly and the other's began to tie you up.

As you stared up at the sky in distress, you pictured Violet's little face in your head and felt your anxiety rise.

Tears started streaming down your cheek and Rose stood infront of you. A part of her that still felt attached to you hurt to see you in pain but she needed to eat. The whole family did.

She raised the knife above her head, balancing it inbetween the tips of her fingers before resting it at her side. "Are you going to hurt me? Like you did to Violet?" Your inside burns and you felt like you wanted to throw up.

"Yes." You let out a pained scream as she rubbed the blade against your cheek. "Pain purifies steam, fear too. So now you understand."

"No!" You sobbed as you watched Rose raise the knife above her head. "No, Rose..please.." You continued to beg until she plunged the knife deep into your calf.

You shrieked and a large cloud of steam came floating out of your mouth. You felt weaker as the steam came out but the worse was sense of humiliation you felt. Like you had been violated or stolen from.

"Oh damn!" Rose rasped in an almost sexual tone. "Even at your age, you taste so good. Like flowers and liquor."

She clamped her hands around your throat and you winced, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt your steam poured out of your mouth more. You choked on your own sobs and dug your hands into the dirt.

Rose's eyes softened a little bit, her glowing blue orbs staring into yours. "So much fear for most of your life, huh?"

You didn't respond to her and Rose roughly tugged on your hair. "Answer me!"

"Yes!" You barely managed to scream out the word and let out a pitiful whimper. "W-why?"

"Why what?" She spat, keeping her firm grip on you.

"Why me? You could of had Violet, any other girl that was born around the time I was. Why me?" You didn't meet her eye. "I-i didn't want this! I didn't ask for any of this. I just-"

"Just what?" Rose asked softly.

"I just want to be normal! I don't want to special anymore. I just want to be loved. I just want it all to stop!" You hitched a sob and Rose released the grip on your neck.

She stood up and paced back and forth, trying to get her head back in the game.

"Rosie, you okay?" Crow stood up to her level. "Yeah, I'm okay..I just..you know what, it can wait til later."

"You're sure?" He asked.

"Yeah." She ran her thumb over your cheek as if to give you some comfort and raised the knife above her head. You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting to feel pain radiating through your body but nothing happened.

Why couldn't she hurt you? Rose, who considered herself to be quite numb to the feelings of others but highly intuned with her own needs didn't know. Even after everything you seen and how long it had been since she seen you there was something about you, some steamy element that made her feel attached to you like a magnet.

"I-i can't do it.." Rose stabbed the knife into the dirt beside you and put her hands over her face.

"Why not?" Crow asked, trying his hardest to keep his infrequent temper at bay. The rest of The Knot looked visibly displeased and hungry which set your anxiety even higher than it was.

"I-I feel something for her." Rose's eyes brimmed with insanity and you tried to squirm away her despite the pain radiating through your left leg and the restrains on your wrist.

"What? Rose we don't feel things for a Steamhead. If you keep it alive it's dangerous. It will-"

"I know!" She tightened her grip on your wrist. "She's special though and like I did many years ago, I want her." She let out a maniacal laugh that made Crow's shoulders stiffen. "I fucking want her." She stared deep into your eyes.

"I just want to go home!" You sobbed, fat tears running down your cheeks. "Shh.." Rose wiped your tears away with the back of her thumbs, staining your skin crimson with your own blood. "It's okay."

"No, it's not! Please just let me go home," You begged. "You know I can't do that. Can you all start untying her, please?"

The others nodded and quickly did as she asked. "Then what are we going to do with her?" You heard the Crow ask.

"I have a different plan for this one because she's special. Fitting how everything comes around, right sweetheart?" She gestured to the little scar on her hand.

You gritted your teeth in pain and spit in her face. "Fuck you." You raised your good leg up in the air and connected your heeled boot to her pretty face.

"Oh, you little bitch!" Rose screamed and raised her hand at you, swiftly smacking you across the face before falling back. It was loud enough for the sound to radiate for a good distance and you winced it the stinging sensation on your face.

Rose was distracted by the pain and others seemed to paying you no attention at all. You seen your chance to make your get away and made a run for it as soon as you got the chancs.

The dirt beneath you kicked up into the air as your shoes collided roughly into the ground. Your blood sputtered out on impact and the further the distance you walked, the limp increase.

Your chest felt tight and everything burned but your fight or flight instincts were on high and you were ready to take on everything or anyone.

As you began to slow your running pace you could vaguely hear the sound of bare feet crunching against the leaves behind you.

"Y/n!" You struggled to straggle forward as the light limp in your leg grew worse. "Where are you, honeydoll?"

You found the nearest tree close by and grabbed onto it, flinging yourself behind it. "I know you're around here somewhere."

The crunching of the leaves stopped momentarily and you could feel eyes burning in your direction. "You know if you're going to run from me then mine as well you try and cover your tracks. I see your blood."

"Shit." You darted out from behind the tree and tripped over a cut down stump from a tree that previously grew there.

You pulled your already injured leg up to your chest and slid backwards against the dirt each step Rose took closer to you.

"Y/n-"

"Don't! Just get away!"

"Y/n-"

"No!"

You squirmed back forward and Rose got frustrated, roughly taking your wrist in her hands. She knelt down to your level and your eyes interlocked with her stormy grey ones.

"If I was going to hurt you, I would of done it by now." You nodded nervously. Rose ran a finger across your cheek. "Poor darling, you're so cold and bloodied." She grabbed you enough your arms and lifted you up. "Come on."

"W-where are you taking me?" She grunted as she placed your arm around her shoulders. "To my trailer. I have a first aid kit in there. I should be able to fix you up there."

"Okay." You nodded lazily, starting to feel the blood loss getting to you. You fought for your eyes to stay open and keep moving.

"Just a little longer, Y/n." Rose winced and helped you up the stairs to her trailer. Once you got inside she set down on her. "There we go, lay back."

You willing complied and rested your head against one of the many pillows Rose collected over the years.

"This is going to sting, okay?" She warned. You nodded and gripped onto her blankets as she put the hydrogen peroxide over your cut.

You hissed in pain and bit down on your lip. "Fuck." Rose laughed throatily. "I told you it was going to sting. Maybe if you didn't run from me none of this would of happened."

"Well maybe if you weren't trying to kill me I wouldn't of ran!" You spat defensively. Rose glared and began to wrap up your leg.

"..I told you I was going to let you be." Your eyes went wide. "After you stabbed me! Rose, I just want to go home."

"I can't do that sweetheart." As she finished wrapping up your leg she helped you sit up on the bed. "Then what are you going to do with me?"

"Option A: You go outside and I let whichever member of my family that is standing closest by drop you off somewhere and let you wander around bloddied in the woods because I will strip you of your bandages and I can't promise it will be painless death or, you stay here with me."

You looked away with uncertainty in your eyes. "You don't have to be turned yet if you don't want to but you will want it eventually, I reassure you." She grinned.

"I could never be like you." Rose rolled her eyes. "Oh please, you rubes know nothing on what it's like to be us. To live like the kings and queens of humanity and the pleasures in the aftermath of taking steam and the chaos that ensued afterwards."

"Killing people makes you horny?" She laughed. "More amorous then anything, my sweet." She got her knees and leaned forward to kiss your lips. "I can give you a comparison on the steam part, if you'd like."

You shoved her away. "No, I don't want you to touch me like that. Ever." For a reason Rose couldn't fathom, she had to push away some pain caused by your words.

"It's not going to be a terrible existence, Y/n." She took your hand in hers. "You kill people, Rose! I seen you kill someone."

"Violet? Oh yes, we actually just finished her steam a few days ago. It made me think of you."

"And you tried to kill me! I can't trust you as far as I can throw you!"

"You learned to like being around me as a little girl. I can't why you can't learn to again." You glared at Rose. "Because I thought you were my friend."

"I still am, aren't I?" Rose was met with silence. "Y/n, for fucks sake would you just say something?"

"I-" You broke down in tears and Rose felt a pang of guilt blooming inside her. She pulled you close to her and ran her fingers through your hair.

"You took everything from me!" You sobbed into her. "I know. Either way we were going to have you though so you should of just gave in. Some of it is my fault though." Your tears soaked her chest.

"I feel so broken..and so confused! I just want to be loved but I don't know how to even love me anymore!"

"I know and we'll fix that. Come on, don't cry." You sniffled and tried to wipe some of your tears away but they just kept flowing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You kept saying over and over again. "Shhh..it's okay. Nothing to be sorry about."

"You scared me when you killed Violet. You scared me!" Rose wiped your face off with her sleeve. "I know but it's all out of survival and I won't hurt you like that ever again, I promise."

You nodded and wiped some of the tears away, just trying to calm yourself down a little bit. "So what do you say?"

"I'll stay." Rose grinned and placed a kiss against your cheek. "Good." She pulled you down on her bed and wrapped her arms around your waist. "You're freezing. I know ways of warming you up, you know."

You let out a laugh which brought Rose some relief. "Maybe when in a few days when I'm back to normal."

"Whatever you're comfortable with." She ran her fingers through your hair. "Get some rest, please?"

"You won't leave me?" You asked softly. "I won't. I promise." You let out a peaceful sigh and nuzzled closely to Rose's chest.

She drew small circles on your back with her fingers and sent you waves of relaxation. "Sleep." You eyes fluttered shut and soon you succumbed to a peaceful slumber.

Rose stayed up for a while, searching through your mind and taking in all the information about you she missed from the years you spent apart.

"So much anger and fear." She whispered softly. "Bouncing back and from place to place and surpressing who you really are. Oh yes, you're going to be a clingy little thing for a while but I don't mind."

You shifted in your sleep and Rose tightened her grip around you. "Relax, you're home now."

"Home," You mumbled softly in your sleep and Rose smiled softly. Sne placed her hat down behind her on the bed as if it was a prized crown and spooned you. "Yes, home. Just exactly where you're supposed to be."

[cakesunflower]

Quiet Hours [College!Luke AU] Ch. 13

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 13

INSTEAD OF STRESSING out about what some boy thought of her, Ophelia made sure her frustrations were dedicated towards the schoolwork she had to get done. She was a junior in college with a big workload that she was constantly trying to lessen—she didn’t need to get distracted over what the hell was going on with some boy that she had sex with a couple of times. Even if she did sometimes, quite creepily, found herself straining her ear to make out what Luke was doing in his bedroom in the apartment over.

She stopped doing so when she realized just how strange and pathetic that was.

Ophelia found herself at The Hideout with her friends, with Shawn coming along with Tanya and Isabelle bringing Jill, a girl she had recently started seeing. It was a good way to unwind after a long week of writing two research papers and presenting a project. She felt the special need to reward herself because she submitted the weekly paper for her online class early even though it’s due on Sunday, so Ophelia virtually had no homework for the weekend and a lot of time to find some kind of distraction to keep her from thinking of the one person who kept creeping into her mind.

“I love these,” Ophelia commented as she took a sip of her Coke, lips wrapped around the straw as she drank the beverage from a classic glass bottle. Not many places served the soda like this, and it was one of the little things in life that made Ophelia happy.

Shawn, sitting across from her in the booth with his left arm draped around Tanya’s shoulders, snickered as he used his free hand to pick up the nachos on the table between them. “Don’t break it like last time,” he remarked, to which everyone laughed while Ophelia whined about her dropping the bottle when she was drunk and it shattering to pieces happening only one time.

Just then Tanya perked up as her dark eyes went to something over Ophelia’s shoulder and past the booth. “Oh, the dart board is available—c’mon, Lia.”

She had been wanting to play a round of darts since the group of them walked into the bar, but the board had been occupied until now. So the two slid out and wandered towards the back wall by the bar, with Tanya plucking out darts from the board and handing Ophelia the green ones. Jesse’s Girl by Rick Springfield was playing through the speakers as, on the other side, the sound of pool balls clinking together could be heard. Ophelia went first, standing the appropriate distance as she threw the first dart. It was on the outer ring, the second landing there as well before the other two landed on the inner one and the last being a bullseye.

As she pulled off her darts and stepped aside to let Tanya go, Ophelia crossed her arms over her chest when she heard her friend say, “okay, spill. What’s been bugging you for the past few days?”

Ophelia blinked before frowning at Tanya, leaning back against one of the wooden pillars that supported the bar. “What?”

Tanya rolled her eyes, throwing one of her darts as it landed in the inner circle before shooting Ophelia a knowing look. “You’ve been drowning yourself in your work—we rarely saw you outside of your room or the study. You only do that when you’re trying extra hard to distract yourself from something else.”

Rolling her lower lip into her mouth, Ophelia glanced up at the wooden ceiling as she wondered if she really was that easy to read. When she looked back at Tanya, she let out an exasperated huff when she saw the same pointed expression on her face. “I’m fine, Tan, really,” she assured, tightening her arms across her chest. “Just trying to get my shit together,” Ophelia added with a light laugh.

“Does that include your feelings for Luke?” her friend questioned, followed by the sound of the dart hitting the board.

Ophelia pressed her lips together, feeling her skin warm up with an embarrassed flush. “Is it that obvious?”

She wasn’t even going to bother denying it—Tanya was her friend and Ophelia knew she was going to end up telling her anyway. So Ophelia let out a sigh, throwing her head back as it collided on the post with a light thud and she would complain about how much it hurt if she wasn’t already thinking about how annoyed she was with her stupid boy problems.

“Only because I know you,” Tanya scoffed, prompting Ophelia to let out a wry chuckle. Then, Tanya smirked, “also, Iz may have mentioned something about you catching feelings for someone you were only meant to fuck around with a little while back.”

An affronted exclaim escaped Ophelia, brows furrowing into a glare as she looked behind her to where their friends sat. Of course, Isabelle was out of her sight in the booth, so Ophelia turned to look at Tanya again. “The bitch can’t keep anything to herself.”

Tanya laughed, throwing her last dart and letting out a huff when it didn’t lie in the center. “But seriously though,” she began once more after pulling out the darts and looking at her friend once more. “I haven’t seen you and Luke hang out in a while. Hell, even Michael asked me about what was up with you two.” Ophelia’s brows raised at that, taken aback. “You don’t fuck with him anymore?”

Ophelia scoffed, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice as she grumbled, “more like Luke doesn’t fuck with me anymore.”  

Thinking about it now, how her and Luke haven’t even had a proper conversation ever since that game night, twisted Ophelia’s stomach unpleasantly. She hated that she had grown so attached to a guy she hooked up with so quickly—that’s never happened before. But then again, she’s never had sex with tall Australian singers who made her knees weak by a single look. Luke had a tight hold on her, whether it be physically or mentally, that she was struggling in loosening.

Tanya’s eyes widened as Ophelia moved to take her spot to throw the darts. “Oh my—did he ghost you?” she demanded, a fire lighting up in her dark eyes. Luke may be taller than her, but Tanya was willing to fight him on behalf of Ophelia. Or, maybe, have Shawn do it for her.

Ophelia’s eyebrows furrowed, the hurt evident in her fallen expression as she mumbled, “I guess so,” before forcefully throwing the dart, feeling a sense of annoyance as it went to the outer edge of the outer ring. “I mean, it’s my fault,” she added, waving the darts in her hands around. “I should’ve known better than to expect anything else from someone who I know hooks up with whoever. I mean, I hear it, for fuck’s sake.”

“You can’t help how you feel, Lia,” was Tanya’s immediate and honest response as a classic rock song Ophelia didn’t recognize began playing through the bar. “And have you, like, heard him? You know. . . In his room with anyone?” she cringed when she asked, not wanting to offend her friend in anyway by asking if she heard the guy she liked having sex with other girls.

Ophelia pursed her lips, throwing another dart. “No,” she answered truthfully. She then glanced over at Tanya, “but that doesn’t mean—”

She cut herself off immediately as her gaze flickered over Tanya’s shoulders, words dying in her mouth as she saw the bar’s doors open and in walked the devil himself with his friends. Ophelia’s throat dried at the sight of the blonde in his Rolling Stones shirt and black leather jacket and jeans, hair in its usual curls that her fingers itched to run through.

“What?” Tanya questioned in confusion, noticing Ophelia’s change in demeanor before turning around following her gaze. “Oh,” she sounded when her eyes landed on what Ophelia was staring at.

Luke and the boys approached the bar, giving their orders and receiving their drinks moments later before they turned to sit down at one of the round tables in the middle since the booths were full. Ophelia couldn’t help but look at him from where she stood on the other side of the bar, feeling some kind of dull ache in her chest at the sight of his wide grin as he laughed, the sound drowned out by the music and people talking. He looked happy, utterly fine. Not at all like Ophelia, who now was resigned with herself for moping over him in the first place. Why was she so hung up when he, at least on the outside, seemed perfectly content?

Forcefully tearing her gaze away from the Australian, Ophelia took in a sharp breath and looked back at the board across from her, tightening her grip on the dart before throwing it right at it. Tanya pressed her lips together to stop the smile growing on her face when she saw the dart hit the bullseye. “Were you imagining Luke’s face on the board?”

That got a laugh out of Ophelia, pausing when she was about to throw another dart as she shot an amused look at Tanya. “Of course not,” she responded in a knowing tone, smirking as Tanya let out a giggle. Ophelia wasn’t going to outright say that she had briefly imagined blue eyes and a dimpled smile on the board.

They finished their game and went to go back to the booth, though Ophelia made a detour towards the bar since she had finished her drink. She found an empty spot at the busy counter, leaning against it on her arms as she gestured for the bartender for a beer. The guy was familiar with her face—and, unbeknownst to him, her fake I.D.—so he gave her a nod of acknowledgment.

 As she patiently waited, tapping her hands on the countertop with her college peers flanked her on either side, Ophelia froze when she heard, “hey, R.A. Ophelia.”

Her throat worked, teeth grinding together as Ophelia turned around to see the familiar man standing right behind her. Luke stared down at her with bright blue eyes, a small, almost nervous, smile on his face as he peered down at her. His hands were buried in the pockets of his jacket, broad shoulders hiding the rest of the bar behind him from her.

She wasn’t going to lie—it bothered her that he would just come up to her and try to spark conversation after avoiding her like the Plague for the past few days. One minute he was ghosting her and now he was coming up to her at a bar? Ophelia hated boys. “Hi, Luke.”

Luke, to his credit, had picked up the uncomfortable shift in Ophelia’s body language, her jaw clenching and arms coming up to cross over her chest as she looked up at him. Honestly, he didn’t know what compelled him to come up to her—he had seen her approach the bar and straightened in his seat, feeling the sudden urge to talk to the girl he had been deliberately annoying like an asshole. He wasn’t surprised that she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but in front of him at the moment. And it hurt something in Luke’s chest even though he knew he had no right to feeling anything like that, not when it was his own fault that she couldn’t even offer him a smile upon sight.

So he swallowed inaudibly before asking, “can we, uh, talk?”

Ophelia didn’t even try to stop the scoff from escaping her as she rolled her eyes, hip jutting slightly as she retorted, “oh, now you wanna talk?” Luke tried not to recoil, not missing the edge in her tone and the narrowing of her eyes. “I don’t wanna hear it, Luke.”

Oh, but she did. She totally did want to hear it and just when those words slipped past her mouth, Ophelia mentally berated herself. What if he was about to explain himself? Ophelia let her big-headed pride get in the way of finding out the answers to the questions that have been bothering her, and she’d slap herself for it if Luke actually did end up leaving her alone.

Just then, the bartender behind Ophelia handed her her beer, and she gave him the money before picking up the bottle and moving to take a step around Luke’s broad figure. “Wh—you’re just gonna walk away?” Luke questioned with furrowed brows, watching as she brushed past him with an indifferent expression painted on her face that was merely a mask to hide how she truly felt.

She threw him a narrow eyed glare over her shoulder, took in the disgruntled and bewildered look he wore, and suddenly felt a newfound surge of some kind of power as she countered, “doesn’t feel good, does it?” before shouldering past some guy and walking to the other side where her friends were seated.

Ophelia could feel Luke’s gaze burning into her back, only boosting her confidence and making her feel all the more powerful for brushing him off like that. Sure, she wanted to know what he had to say, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of immediately listening to his explanation the first time he came up to her after ignoring her for days. She had more pride than that. And stubbornness.

So she went to sit back down with her friends, purposefully avoiding glancing Luke’s way as he, in turn, let out a small breath of disbelief and surprise before reluctantly returning to his seat at the table with the boys. “You look like you struck out,” Calum commented as the blonde sat down across from him defeatedly. Calum glanced over his shoulder to where Ophelia sat with her friends. Looking back at Luke, he frowned, “she didn’t wanna talk?”

Luke let out a sharp breath and shook his head, tugging at the front of his jacket. Next to him, Michael scoffed as he set down his beer. “Are you surprised? You’ve been ignoring her.”

The muscle in Luke’s jaw twitched at his words because he knew Michael was right. He shouldn’t have expected Ophelia to want to talk to him right away because he definitely offended her by avoiding her more often than not lately. Luke, in his defense, didn’t know what to do. He was confused as to how and what he felt towards Ophelia because at first he had figured she was just someone to hook up with. But then they had sex twice, then three times and he found himself not being able to get enough. Luke hadn’t wanted someone so badly the way he did Ophelia, a desire so intense he had to take a moment and step back. Unfortunately, he didn’t go about doing so the right way.

How in the world could he have thought just ignoring her would make what he felt go away? Would help him make sense of what was going on in his head? It only made things worse for him—both emotionally and in the face of Ophelia as well. Now she didn’t even want to speak to him, and Luke had no one to blame but himself and his incapability of figuring shit out.

“You gotta apologize to her, man,” Ashton instructed after swallowing down a couple of French fries. “Tell her you’re sorry for being a dick.”

Luke shot him a flat look, though mildly annoyed because that’s exactly what he wanted to do before Ophelia shot him down, as he took a sip of his whiskey. It warmed his throat and settled in his stomach with a calming buzz. His eyes kept flickering over Calum and Ashton’s shoulders through the night to gaze at Ophelia sitting in the booth, having utterly no regard for him as she laughed, chatted, and took occasional sips of her beer. Luke bit the inside of his cheek at her smile—something he’d only been able to see through her social media. He felt a smile twitching on his lips at the sight of hers, even if it wasn’t directed to him. Even if he wasn’t deserving of it.

When Ophelia and her friends got up and began filing out of the bar around midnight that night, momentary panic set in Luke as he realized she was leaving and they hadn’t yet talked. So quickly finishing his new bottle of beer and slamming it on the table, Luke scrambled to his feet and didn’t bother giving his friends an explanation before running out the door, leaving them staring after him in bewilderment. The cold October night air slapped him as he stepped out, but he paid it no attention as he caught sight of who he was after and called out, “Ophelia!”

The hazel eyed girl’s laughter ceased, her and her friends all pausing in approaching the parking lot as they turned around to see the blonde dressed in black. His curly hair was tousled because of his wind as they stood a few feet away from the door. “We need to talk,” he stated clearly before his lips set into a firm line.

Ophelia gazed at him, taking in the seriousness of his expression. Her brows furrowed before glancing at her friends, pocketing her car keys. “I’ll see you at home.” She shot a reassuring look to her friends before they nodded and began walking away—though not before all three of Ophelia’s roommates shot her knowing looks. When Shawn’s and Isabelle’s cars drove off, Ophelia looked at Luke, who had neared and stopped about five feet from her. “What?”

Luke peered at the pretty girl in front of him, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took in how comfortably adorable she looked in her dark red winter coat and matching beanie that sat atop her head. The cold already had her nose and cheeks flushing pink and Luke wanted to do nothing more than to pull her close and keep her warm.

“I owe you an apology,” he stated regretfully and roughly while shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. The music from the dive bar behind them was muffled and there was no one in the parking lot but them, allowing them to hear the occasional whistle of the wind. “I was—I don’t know what I was thinkin’, ignoring you like that. It was childish of me.”

Ophelia let out a scoff at that, crossing her arms over her chest whether it be defensively or from the cold, neither of them could be sure. “Yeah, it was,” she agreed easily, with a defiant quirk of her eyebrow. She hadn’t expected to have this conversation in the middle of The Hideout’s empty parking lot with only a couple of street lamps lighting the area, but she guessed the time to talk was now. “You could’ve been upfront about not wanting to, like, fuck around anymore,” she added, shifting her weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably.

“I don’t—that’s not what this is, sweetheart,” Luke assured hastily, almost desperately as he took a step towards her, long legs bringing him closer to her rooted figure. Ophelia had to swallow inaudibly as the term of endearment slip past Luke’s lips, unwittingly feeling more affected by it than she liked. Luke paused for a moment, tongue poking out to wet his lower lip and Ophelia tried not to follow the action as he spoke up almost hesitantly. “If I’m bein’ honest. . . I can’t stop thinking ’bout you.”

That caught her off guard. Ophelia blinked in surprise, unsure of whether or not to believe Luke, though the earnest expression on his face told her he was being honest. And he was. Luke may have been ignorant and avoiding her lately, but the thoughts that ran through his mind constantly reminded him of the girl living on the other side of his room. Multiple times he had wanted to march right over to her, but refrained himself because he wasn’t sure of what he wanted.

Truth be told, Luke still didn’t know what he wanted, not exclusively. All he knew was that he wanted Ophelia in the way he had her before and for now, that would have to be enough. And he hoped she would be okay with that, should she agree.

“You have a funny way of showing that,” Ophelia pointed out, pouty lips puckering even more and the mere action had Luke’s jeans tightening and jaw clenching. She then licked her lips and Luke wished she stopped playing with the skin because he was losing any ounce of self control he had. With a sigh, Ophelia asked, “what do you want, Luke? Because not to sound like too much of a girl, but you ignoring me after all of that made me feel seriously used.” She scrunched her face up at her own words, knowing they sounded needy and clingy but she didn’t know how else to say what she needed. “If you wanna end whatever the hell this was, then do it to my face. Don’t ignore my damn existence like we’re in high school.”

Her confidence when it came to Luke was always something to come and go, but after being offended and hurt by Luke avoiding her as if she had done something wrong had her standing up for herself in whatever capacity necessary. Ophelia knew that people ghosting others was relatively normal, especially those you’ve hooked up with, but she hated that. If she didn’t want to do anything with someone anymore, she was straight up with them and she would hope they would give her the same courtesy. Ignoring them until they go away was childish and rude.

Luke’s expression fell somewhat, a pang of guilt resonating through him at the knowledge of how he had made her feel. Fuck, I’m an ass. He ran his ring clad fingers through his curly hair, pushing it back and away from his disgruntled face of steepened brows and lips rolled into his mouth. “I’m a dick, I know,” he relented, taking yet another step towards Ophelia, the closing distance rising her gaze because of his height. “I promise I’m not gonna disappear on you again, babe, I swear.”

Babe had so effortlessly rolled from his lips that it made Ophelia’s heart thud as a gust of wind blew against her face, prompting shivers to run down her spine despite the coat she wore. Whatever was going on with her and Luke, she was going to accept it as it came. Ophelia may have feelings for Luke but she didn’t know where he stood on that matter and unless he was absolutely clear, then she wouldn’t assume anything. If he just wanted to fuck, she was okay with it and if he wanted more, that was definitely okay, too. It would be hard for her, hooking up with a guy she has feelings for but only keeping it physical, but she would take it in stride.

She was way too attracted to Luke to prioritize her feelings over her desire for him.

So, swallowing down her emotions for the Australian in front of her, Ophelia took a breath and stated, “you never answered my question.” When Luke shot her a quizzical look, Ophelia briefly bit the inside of her lower lip before repeating, “what do you want?”

Luke’s blue eyes locked on her green, silence surrounding them despite the music inside the bar. He didn’t know how to truly answer that question because putting a label on what he wanted wasn’t something he was quite ready for. He didn’t want a relationship, not yet anyway, but the sight of the pretty girl in front of him had Luke’s stomach clenching and heart quickening.

So, he gave the only answer both of them would be satisfied with. “You.”

That was all it took for Ophelia’s breath to hitch and confidence to strengthen as she grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him in for a searing kiss, one which warmed them both to the core despite the cold nipping at their bodies. The heated rush of the kiss had Ophelia and Luke melting into each other, having gone too long without the other’s touch as Luke’s hands cupped her face, Ophelia feeling her toes curl as the cold metal of his rings touched her skin.

Her car was only a few feet away, so it’s safe to say the two had no trouble in walking towards it without detaching their lips and climbing into the backseat, more than ready to get rid of their clothes and give into the unadulterated hunger that always sparked to life the moment their eyes met.

--

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