lost boys and girls

side blog for @ofelah. dedicated to threads for my 1x1s and MuMus plots

[ofelahwriting]

poshmcuth​:

Getting married was asking for trouble, in Jo’s opinion. Two years ago, was engaged once and things went from being amazing to awful in months flat. He and his fiance were supposed to plan their wedding, grow old together, have kids - the whole shebang - but that didn’t happen and it hurt him to discover that it never would. 

For the longest time, he thought his fiance was the love of his life, but apparently that wasn’t the case for her. Lauren had fallen in love with someone else and dumped him through text. He hadn’t gotten over it and felt bitter over people who believed in love and marriage because of it. 

This wedding he’s attending now gave him a headache because it made him ache due to his nonexistent wedding with the so-called ‘love of his life’. Jo kept to himself the whole time, only really talking to his cousin when he was spoken to, and that was all. A few times he spotted a beautiful woman looking his way, but he kept looking away so it wouldn’t look like he was staring. 

And not wanting to look weird, he walked to the bar, surprised to see her. “Not really a fan of weddings, to be honest,” he replied in Russian accent, shrugging with one hand as he sat on a bar stool and tried not to look at her. Her eyes were huge and green and they put him in a bit of a daze. So he had to snap himself out of it – be real and get his shit together. “I mean, they’re meaningless.” 

@ofelah​

He was certainly handsome, and his light blue eyes and strong jaw line made her knees go slightly weak. When was the last time she had this kind of reaction to a man besides Matthew? She couldn’t remember. She had beginning to think that the older, married man had truly ruined her for other men but maybe this was a sign that she was finally moving on. She didn’t think that she was about to fall head over heels for him, that would be a little premature but a spark of attraction was a good start. 

She couldn’t help the ill timed snort of laughter that escaped her lips right as she was taking a sip of champagne. She felt the bubbles go straight up her nose, making her feel a little fuzzy. Of course he thought weddings were ‘meaningless’. It was just Juliet’s luck that the first guest she talks to all night thinks her work had little meaning to it. 

“I see we have a cynic on our hands.” Juliet had plenty of experience dealing with people who thought little of the age old ceremony of marriage, sometimes she even had to fight with her own doubts. After all she had grown up knowing she was a last ditch effort to save a broken marriage, watched her mother flint from one man to another, and she had spent the majority of her twenties being the other woman. “What makes a celebration of love so meaningless?” She asked, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. She wondered how long they could go on like this before she revealed why exactly she was attending the wedding.

 @malcolmbrights​ @poshmcuth​

[ofelahwriting]

lestrangexrabastan​:

There was very little that Rabastan wanted in life, a long time ago he gave up having hopes and dreams. As a child he dreamed about getting his parents attention, and then he figured out there was a way he could get, so he started acting up. Growing up he hoped to do something to prove he was worth it, so he joined the death eaters and the cause, and then it all came crashing down. And now, now he is scared to ever dare to hope.

Rabastan was not expecting what came right before the kiss, and while his mind had been made up, he had hoped Narcissa would push him away, slap him, yell at him, hexed him maybe, but he did not expect her to say please. He had not expected her arms around his neck, and for her to be kissing him back.

For a moment time stopped, the world stopped, it was only the two of them, whatever happened after they would always have this moment. Rabastan pulled Narcissa closer and deepened the kiss, pushing them towards the nearest shelf, the books -those keeping the darkest secrets- surrounding them. Rabastan wished he had kept kissing her forever, but they had to come up from air, “this… you really want this?” he asked, his hand cupping her face.

Her body melted against his and she was grateful for his strong arms wrapped around her torso because she was sure that she would be on the floor him now without him holding her up. Cissa had been kissed before, but they had all been innocent pecks compared to this one. She wasn’t so naive that she didn’t know the rumors about her, that she had apparently lost her virginity to Antonin Dolohov or that she had already secured her betrothal to Lucius by luring him into her bed, if only the gossips could see her now, pushed up against the restricted bookshelves, Rab’s lips seared to hers. 

She whimpered slightly as he pulled away, and she had to fight the urge to ball her fists in his hair and bring his lips to hers. “I want...” She paused, trying to think through the thick haze of lust. What did she want? She wanted to be married to a fine pureblood man, she wanted respect and happiness, with lots of children running around them. She had always had a clear vision for her life, and Rabastan had always been the one standing next to her, until her parents had informed her that she would be marrying Lucius Malfoy. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

With one shaking hand she reached out and ran her long, slender fingers along his strong jaw, his cheeks that were slightly flushed from their kiss, to his soft brown hair. “You must have known.” She spoke slightly, his nose brushing against his. “You must have known how I felt about you, all those promises we made to each other. I meant every one.”

[ofelahwriting]

king1x1s​:

It was all a lot, all at once. 

The party was supposed to be fun. Hal had begged Ben to come, to have a good time, that they could do it, despite the shit they had gotten themselves in to. They were both so battle hardened, so ready to fight. Hal didn’t think Ben understood that he didn’t have any fight left in him. There was nothing he could do about what had happened between himself and Bea. If only he could make Ben understand—

But how could he? When he didn’t understand this thing with Bea himself? One day Bea is—well—Bea. The next day she’s sucking on his neck and he’s losing himself in her in a way he hadn’t thought was possible. He hates himself so acutely for that mistake, though he’s always loved her. He’s always known, too. How could they fit together in the grand cosmic scheme of the universe? His soul was fractured and he was hardened by war (the war) and the things he had seen as a doctor. All of the softness had been sucked out of him.

This stupid party was disgustingly extravagant. He’s standing on the sidelines, nursing a vodka cran, scanning the crowd for a glimpse of her. He knows he shouldn’t be, but Ben brought a date, the stupid asshole, and he knew that Bea would be upset. How could she not? Her whole life she’d been told that she should fall in love with Ben. How could he blame her for that? Or hold it against her. 

When he finally sees her, his heart squeezes. She looks beautiful, head to toe radiant. He makes his excuses to the current rich bitch he’s chatting up and winds his way through the crowd. It takes him a minute of ‘excuse me, love’ and ‘pardon, ta’ to get to her. “Beatrice,” he breathes, “you made it.” 

Beatrice did not want to be here. She did not want to be celebrating her parents who were always too busy loving each other to love her, she did not want to be wearing this stupid dress that she kept tripping over, and she did not want to see Hal and Ben. Except of course she did want to see them, that was her problem, she always wanted at least one of them, sometimes both if she was feeling particularly vulnerable.

It had been nearly a year and a half since Ben had taken her already delicate heart and stomped on it, leaving it in pieces in the dirt. She had managed to pick up some of the pieces and glue it back together even though it would never really be the same. She was almost back to how she was before and of course she had to ruin it by kissing Hal. So many years of repressing her feelings, of trying to convince herself that she wasn’t hopelessly in love with Hal, completely undone with just a few drinks. 

She had snuck away the next morning before he could wake up, her hangover pounding against her skull, and she hadn’t heard boo from him since. She didn’t have the right to be mad at him, after all she had been the one to sneak out, and it had been a mistake. Hadn’t it?

She didn’t feel emotionally prepared to see either one of them, and she didn’t see them, for a time. She spied Ben first, and of course he was with a date, a blonde no less! She felt her stomach drop, her blood heat with anger and her heart fill with sadness. What if Hal had brought a date as well? Just the idea made her need a drink. 

She was nursing her third glass of champagne by the time she saw Hal, and evidently he had seen her, since he was only a few feet away, heading straight to her. “It’s my parents party.” She said dryly, instantly wishing that she could be softer. “I haven’t heard from you, wasn’t sure if you would be here.”

[ofelahwriting]

gwenogxjones​:

Gwen should have pulled away—should be punching him, kicking him, anything—but she didn’t. There was something about his proximity that held her in place, something intoxicating and maddening. “Jealous? Of you? When I’m going to be a starter for a bloody professional quidditch team next year? Fat chance, boyo. I think you’d do well to be jealous of me. Where are you going to be next year? Cheering for dear old Gwen in the stands? Going to wear the green, red, and white for me?”

“Relax?” She stepped closer to him, eyes flashing. Merlin, had he always been this tall? Gwen thought not, perhaps he had a massive growth spurt during the summer, or maybe she’d been too worried about beating the other houses to care how tall he was. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t really given him much thought before now. Sure, they had their banter—but that was it. Slug Club meetings and events, Quidditch, and Hufflepuff parties (of which she was always on the outskirts) were their main source of interactions.

Yet, she was completely intoxicated in that moment. Anger flared in her stomach, threatening to knock her off her feet once more. “Laid?” She laughed. “Oh yeah, Bones? You see me and your mind automatically screams sex? Is it because you saw my rack in the changing room? Can’t resist a firecracker, can you?” Fuck, he smelled amazing—like sweat and grass and adrenaline. “I think you do think of me, Bones. I don’t think you want to, but I don’t think you can resist, either.” 

"Jealous of you?" He said, parroting her words back at her, his tone mocking. “Why would I be jealous of a stick in the mud?” He rolled his eyes at her, stepping even closer, he loomed over her, his blue eyes locking with her brown. “I have everything I could possibly want, I’m head boy, Quidditch captain, I have more in my life than just Quidditch.” He smirked, licking his lips. “Last I checked everyone either wanted me or wants to be me.”

Fuck he had forgotten that it was impossible to argue with her. She was too smart for her own good and always managed to turn his words back on him, it made his blood burn and pulse so hard that he could hear it in his ears. The worst part is that she wasn’t totally off base, he had noticed her, more times than he would like to admit, and maybe his mind did go to salacious places when she was around. 

“I think you’re projecting a bit there Jones.” He said, shaking his head a lazy grin spreading over his freckled face. He should just keep walking, brush past her and not look back. Gwenog Jones was not worth this much trouble, but his feet stayed firmly rooted on the ground. “You really expect me to believe that you’ve never once thought about what it would feel like?”

[ofelahwriting]

rowanxginny​:

Ginny’s head tilted up of its own accord, shifting her weight onto the tips of her toes and rocking forward towards Tom without realizing it. That’s how it always went with them, wasn’t it? Him, drawing her in, closer and closer and closer until they were only a breath apart. Her, allowing herself to be pulled further in until she couldn’t find a way out. She always felt like she was half-awake here, but the part of her that remained awake was so completely enthralled that she couldn’t be bothered to care.

Her lips parted slightly at the sensation of Tom toying with her the way he was. Dark eyes, charming smile, a solid grip, firm on her mind. She sighed softly, letting her eyes fall closed for just a moment, just to let herself be. It was dangerous to feel so comfortable in a place that was so incredibly foreign. She didn’t know what boundaries of magic they were pushing, but she knew she felt herself practically vibrating with the force of it. But maybe that was just Tom, Ginny thought to herself, letting his voice wash over her. Maybe it wouldn’t matter where they were as long as he stood with her just like this.

At the feeling of him tugging on her hair, Ginny’s eyes snapped open, finding Tom’s boring directly into her. It was sharp, fleeting, and quick, over as soon as it had begun. She leaned into his touch before she’d even fully processed his words, and she kept her eyes on Tom even as she moved her chin up, following the direction that Tom guided her head in. He didn’t hurt her, but he held her. The simple act in itself made her keep her feet rooted in place, follow him where he led her. A smile found its way onto her lips.

“Tom,” Ginny began, her focus returning to her for just a second when she finally heard his words. There was no way she could stay here forever and part of her thought that Tom knew it, that he was just teasing her to rile her up. But then Ginny thought maybe he did mean it, that hewas planning on keeping her here forever. She didn’t know how he could do that—the very idea seemed to defy logic, but so did everything else she’d experienced since she’d found the diary. “You couldn’t keep me here,” she continued. It was not the first time they’d gone back and forth like this and surely it wouldn’t be the last, but she still tried to outwit him with facts. How long would it take her to realize hat outwitting Tom simply wasn’t an option? She’d lose, every time. “What would you do with me here? You’d get bored of me, wouldn’t you? Besides, how would I even survive here? How would you?”

He released the strand of hair that he had been holding so tight, instead moving his whole hand into her crimson red hair. Merlin he loved her hair the most, sometimes he thought that it was so red that it would burn him. Sometimes he wished it would, just so he could feel something. Could he even burn anymore? What would happen if someone tried to harm him? Was he invisible? So many questions, so many mysteries, Ginny being one of them, and the one he was most eager to figure out. 

“I can think of a few things that we could do...” He said, his voice wickedly deep, his eyes slightly fogged over with the thoughts running through his head. He shook his head, snapping himself out of his daze, and ran his red hair through his long pale fingers. He would keep Ginny, but he also knew that he needed to be patient, with time he would have her all to himself, he would stop at nothing. He just needed to make her want it as much as he did, he didn’t just want her diaries entries, he didn’t just want her time or her heart, he wanted her soul. He wanted everything. 

“Alright I won’t keep you, this time.” He said, giving her his most charming smile that made him look almost boyish. He moved his hand from it’s grip on her hair to run his fingers down her arm, until he was grasping her hand in his. “Enough talk of staying or going.” It can wait, he thought. If he pressed it would only upset her, it was better to play the long game and be patient. After all what else did he have to do? He had all the time in the world, to plan and scheme, to think of Ginny and all his wicked plans for her. 

He pulled her down so that they were sitting across from each other, and once again he smiled at her, impersonating goodness. “Tell me about your day.” He said, taking her hand in his, running his fingers along the lines on her palm, as if he was reading her future, her secrets. He didn’t need to read her palm to find out her secrets, he had his old dairy and her own words for that. Her future though? That he would surely like to know. 

[ofelahwriting]

           Lately Oliver and Claudia's apartment had started to feel...small. Sure it wasn’t exactly a mansion but it was spacious for a city apartment, however over the last few weeks (or had it been months?) it felt as if the two of them were always on top of each other. He felt like he couldn’t turn a corner without bumping into her, and it was beginning to get dangerous, he had already broken two mugs and Claudia nearly knocked over a vase of flowers. 

Not to mention this unspoken war between them that had started around the time the apartment started to feel so damn small. It was a war that’s weapons mostly consisted of a lack of clothes and not much else. He supposed that this was inevitable after so many years pretending that there wasn’t something between them, that they really were just friends, before all the feelings that they had pushed down came bubbling out. 

He was currently standing by the bathroom door, dripping water all over the tiled floor, waiting until he heard Claudia’s soft foot steps. Should he have just rushed back to his room like any sane person would do after they get out of the shower? Yes, but Oliver wasn’t a regular roommate. 

He swung the door open when he heard Claudia right out the bathroom door. “Oh hey Claud.” He drawled, trying to act casual even though the only thing protecting his modesty was a measly hand towel. “Did you know we didn’t have any full sized towels in there? Weird right?”

[ofelahwriting]

rowanxginny‌:

This girl in front of him couldn’t have been someone he knew. Rowan would have recognized her, surely. Her smile was bright, if a little sharp, but the edge only added to whatever it was about her that had him continuing this conversation instead of simply begging off, finding Isaac through the crowd and getting drunk together. Just like when they were in high school, grabbing at loose bottles of beer that were left laying around and trying to finish them as fast as possible, doing whatever they could to make sure no adults saw them.

“Oh, I went to high school with absolutely none of these people,” Rowan said, shaking his head as he marveled at the fact that he was still here. “I’m here for moral support. Saving some of the unluckier partygoers from boredom. Except now I’m the one that’s bored and if I go back to that open bar, some people might begin to think I’ve got a problem.” He clinked his glass with hers, cocking an eyebrow up at her glass, filled all the way up. Not the way he’d have chosen to take his whiskey, but it was amusing enough to say the least. And she didn’t seem to mind.

The crowd of guests around them didn’t seem to pay any attention to the pair of them, leaning against the bar and talking like it wasn’t a graduation party where they should be celebrating the guest of honor. And Isaac still remained nowhere to be found. What was the harm in flirting if Rowan knew that it wouldn’t lead to anything? After all, it was a party. Make new friends, meet new people, wasn’t that what it was all supposed to be about? And he wasn’t looking to invest in any businesses like the countless fathers and entrepreneurs seemed to be hounding him for, so why shouldn’t he talk to a pretty girl who seemed to have enough wit for both of them, and share some of his own?

“Yeah, you look like you’re having a ball.” Rowan looked out at the guests and wondered just how many people were actually here. And how many of them even cared what they were celebrating. The girl’s question brought his attention back and he looked over at her. “I’m the brother’s friend. But he’s gone off on his own, probably got lost in a bunch of suits. Can’t keep track of them all, can you?” He rolled his eyes. “What about you? Close friends with the family? I don’t recognize you.”

Cassie chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. Before Rowan had caught her eye she had every intention of making a french exit. Her parents would have been upset with her, ‘You never behaved like this before’ would surely be said, as it was a sentence that she now heard regularly. It was true, a few years ago she would never be sipping a full glass of whiskey, ignoring her parents friends, wearing a dress like this, and so much more that her parents didn’t even have an inkling about. She was too occupied with being the perfect daughter, as if it would make up for the loss of their other daughter. 

She chuckled, taking a sip from her full glass. “Everyone here has a problem, just some people are better at hiding it.” She rolled her eyes, knowing full well what her former classmates got up to behind closed doors. “Maybe we can save each other from boredom.” She mused, her lips quirking up into a sly smile. She wondered how long she could play this game before her recognized her or she slipped up and gave herself away. A part of hoped that she could just go on like this forever, playing the mystery girl, because Rowan would never look at the old Cassandra like he was looking at her now. 

“Do you think anyone here is actually having any fun?” She asked, looking out at the sea of suits and cocktail dresses. They all looked perfectly at ease, laughing, smiling, mingling happily amongst each other. Was this some people’s idea of fun? “Or are they secretly as miserable as us? Or are we just party poopers?” She was used to being the quiet girl in the corner, it was how she spent her whole life until college. 

She almost coughed up her drink trying to hide her laughter when he said I don’t recognize you. Was she really so different? “Oh I just know someone who knows someone.” She said once she composed herself, playing her little coughing fit off as an accident. “I’m really just a gate crasher, heard there would be an open bar and thought I would tag along.” She side, hiding her smile behind her glass. 

[ofelahwriting]

              Juliet‘s job was done, the cake had been cut, the toasts had been made, the first dance had gone off without so much as a stumble. This wedding had been a particular extravagant one, there had been no expense spared, and it had taken up all of Juliet’s time and energy. It had been her biggest job yet, a black tie event, in one of the most exclusive and expensive ballrooms in the city, full of important and wealthy guests. The hard part was done and it finally felt as if she could breath after months of planning, all there was left to do tonight was make sure that music played smoothly and the guests continued to be plied with champagne. 

This was her favorite part of weddings, when all the fuss and formality was over and people began to let their hair down, with the assistance of the open bar, and you could see all the love there. People mingled, and danced, laughter was in the air and Juliet watched it all from her perch at the corner of the bar. She smiled as she sipped the one glass of champagne she allowed herself while she was on the job, watching as the groom danced with the flower girl on his shoulders to YMCA song. 

Almost everyone was on the dance floor, or mingling among the meticulously styled tables, except for one man. She had noticed him before, his strong jaw and considerable height and build had caught her eye earlier in the night, and he had been terribly distracting all night, and now he was making his way to the bar. 

As a general rule Juliet tried not to socialize with the guests, after all she was working and it was important for a wedding planner to go about unnoticed, but she couldn’t help the words that passed through her lips. “Not a big fan of The Village People?” She quipped once he reached the bar. 

[ofelahwriting]

fenwickbenjyx‌:

“yeah you might be the one with the concussion” benjy said under his breath, but he had a feeling he had no notion of the volume of his voice right now, it could’ve been just his normal tone. as the pain became clearer so did his mind, he had been letting himself get carried away by the blood loss, almost allowing himself to go to sleep. he was so tired, felt like every bit of him ached, but now as the adrenaline was washing off, and the pain was causing his sense to sharpen, benjy finally understood the gravity of the situation. how could the death eaters know they would be there? it was clear it was a trap, someone had set them up, but who? had one of their own betrayed them?

lost in his thoughts benjy almost missed that something was going on with emmeline, her hand on his face made him feel something he had not expected. her words felt heavy, how could she even ask that? did she really think so low of him? but he just shook his head, “hey, hey look at me” benjy said in a soft voice, reaching out for her arms, turning her towards him “emmeline, listen to me, we are partners okay?” he let go of one of her arms and reached for her face, softly bringing it closer to his, tears had began to form in the corner of his eyes, “no one gets left behind, we are in this together” benjy let go of her other arm and grabbed the towel she had brought, he held her face in place and started to clean the dried blood from her face. 

“what kind of spell is flipendo?” benjy asked, not even giving emmeline a second to answer he said, “what is the best way to extract juice from the sopophorous bean?” and finally without missing a beat, “what does avifors do?” he knew she was probably going to think he was crazy but he really needed to do a quick assessment of  potential concussion. it was clear they both needed further medical attention, but someone had set them up, there could be a spy within the order, they couldn’t trust anyone but each other.

Emmeline sighed, turning towards Benjy, wiping away her tears, her eyes fluttering closed when she felt his hand reach to cup her face. It was amazing how such a small gesture could bring her so much comfort. “Yeah, we’re partners.” She said, giving him a slightly wobbly smile. She couldn’t imagine doing this job without Benjy, sure he annoyed her 99% of the time but she also knew that she would do anything for him, and he would do anything for her. “Benjy I don’t know what I would do if...” If I had lost you, she almost said but the lump in her throat kept her from fishing her sentence. 

She winced slightly at the feeling of the towel rubbing away the dried blood, and she knew that she would probably have an ugly wound across her forehead that no makeup could cover for the foreseeable future. “A jinx. Crushing it. Transfigure objects into birds.” She rattled off the answers easily enough but she had to concentrate to work through her blistering headache and fatigue. “I’m fine really, nothing a goodnights sleep won’t fix. Besides I’m young and spritely, you’re the one who should be worried, Old Man.” She said, trying to tease him like she would any other night. She just needed to not think about the fact that they had both been near death tonight, that they had gotten lucky, and that someone on their side sold them out. 

“We need some sleep,” She mumbled, pulling herself out of Benjy’s grasp, pushing down the feelings that being close to him brought out in her. “And a shower. Separately of course. I mean, not that you would think that we would shower together, I just mean–Fuck.” She was suddenly happy for the blood covering the blush spreading across her cheeks. Emmey was not one to stumble over her words, it must have been the exhaustion. Yes the exhaustion, not the feelings that she definitely did not harbor for her partner.

“You shower, I’ll make tea.” She said, quickly trying to busy herself in her small kitchen, trying to find a clean mug among the piles of dirty dishes. “Do you take cream?”

[ofelahwriting]

nickhadwell‌:

“yes, that is exactly what i’m telling you. I am only cool when i’m around kids who haven’t realized i’m boring as hell yet.” he laughed softly, shaking his head. “ah yes, don’t mess with me kilt.” he smirked, pulling the scottish accent he’d tried desperately to get rid of but it still poked through on occasion when he spoke. 

“oh wow, well I mean at least you survived, that’s all that matters. a little fire and flooding never killed anyone if you avoid the fact that there are bible stories about those things killing people,” he smirked, shaking his head.  he nodded, hailing a cab for them so he could open the door for her. “there you go madam.”

She had to resist the urge to swoon slightly at his Scottish brogue. “Well that is something I would love to see.” She said, chuckling at the idea of his a checkered skirt. “I’m learning all sorts of things about you tonight, you’re like a big mystery.” She mused, assessing him with her green eyes, as if she could figure out all his secrets if she stared long enough. 

“Yes my childhood tirades were always very biblical.” She chuckled, thinking of all the trouble she had caused in her teen years, and her twenties for that matter. “If you think I’m hard to handle now...Well lets just say you would have jumped ship long ago. I believe the word ‘terror’ and ‘hellion’ were some of my mother’s favorite words to describe me.” She gave a slightly drunken curtsey before sliding into the cab, her long legs poking out of the slit in her skirt. 

[ofelahwriting]

mariongish‌:

On cooler evenings, Marion liked to take her bike out and ride into town. She cycled down dirt roads past dried up grassland and little streams, and pictured how cool the water must feel in the nearby canyons and creeks. The air was crisp and smokey after a small season of wildfires, and when she stretched out her arms, she swore the wind rushed to meet her halfway.

She’d been in Montana for some months now, maybe two or three, but she already knew she would always love summer most of all. She didn’t like the isolation much, but compared to the little towns of Indiana, it felt like emancipation. She could become invisible in an instant in the treeline, and cause a stir the next day with just a miniskirt. It was power unlike anything she’s ever known. Here, her freckled, tanned-up shoulders sent men into a frenzy. Her hair had lightened up in the sun over the course of the summer in a way that lit up all the boys in town like matches. They whistled out of their dusty old trucks at her and it was music to her ears.

By the time she reached the main street, the sky had turned milky soft, and the storefronts gave off a warm yellow glow in the light of the setting sun. She made her way down the line of shops, leaving behind her the smell of coffee and spice. She rode past the convenience store once, and then again, and peered through the glass. Pat owed her a good night out, but his absence didn’t phase her. His brother was practically a stranger, and she could tell by the looks he gave her every time she trickled into the store that he wasn’t too keen on her. But Jack was a rough-and-tumble man with sturdy arms and big hands, and she will always choose those over the roughnecks and truckers that their little town had to offer. With a twinkle in her eye, Marion was quick to abandon her bike, shaking out her hair as she sauntered over to the store.

Marion knew the moment she set foot inside that getting a nice conversation out of the man would be like pulling teeth. All right, then. She wrinkled her pretty nose at the music and swiftly made her way to the wine, without as much as a look at him. “Nice seeing you, too. Is that how you normally greet your patrons?” she said. ‘Patron’ was sugarcoating it: she lost count of all the times she’d made Pat fork over some smokes and six-packs. Something told her Jack wouldn’t find it so funny, though.

Her fingers slipped over the labels as if she wasn’t going to go for the cheapest bottle in a minute’s time. “No. But your brother’s promised me a ride over to Missoula, so here I am.” Marion turned back around with a slow smile, and within a few steps had hopped onto the counter (Patrick never seemed to mind much as long as she wore a skirt). Her eyes lingered on Jack for a beat.

The store smelled of cigarette smoke and sawdust, and she was grateful for the breeze rubbing up against the thin cotton of her top. Swinging one leg up and leaning back, she watched her surroundings before settling her gaze back on him. She looked him up and down before nodding to the space at the back of the shop. “You got any Lucky Strikes left in that back room of yours?”

Marion was nothing but trouble in a short skirt, and ten years ago she would have been just his type. He used to be carefree and careless, just like her, he had done nothing but cause trouble for himself and those around him, never caring about the consequences. He thought that the town was too small for him, and that someday he would get out and never look back. Well he got out, and it had nearly killed him, and when he returned he barely resembled the foolish boy he once was. He had worked hard to become the man he was today, and respected member of the community, people barely talked about his youthful antics anymore.

That’s why he was wary of Marion, because he understood the game she was trying to play and he had no patience for it, he had played it too once and it left a sour taste in his mouth. He now felt protective of the town when he had once felt resentment, but the town had raised him, and welcomed him back with open arms. Marion didn’t care about the town, didn’t care about Patrick, she just wanted to stir the pot. 

“Most of my patrons know better than to show up minutes before closing.” He said gruffly, watching her closely as she inspected his small wine collection. He could have reminded her that she wasn’t much of a patron if his brother let her slip away with a pack of cigarettes on the house but he bit his tongue. He was tired and he didn’t want to get into a battle of wits with her tonight. 

“Patrick can’t give you a ride to Missoula, he’s opening tomorrow morning.” His voice sounded as if he was speaking to a petulant child, explaining to her that she couldn’t keep her favorite toy all to herself. He wanted to shield his baby brother from this girl. Patrick was young and naive, and fell in love with every pretty thing. He was a sweet boy, with an easy smile and a kind heart, any girl in town would be happy to have him but he had to go and fall for the dangerous new girl, who would break his heart and leave it in the dirt once she grew bored of him. 

He watched her as she made her way towards the counter and jumped up. His eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything, just watched her as she surveyed her surroundings. What did she want? He wondered. “What, did you run out of the last pack Patrick gave you?” He asked, tacking a long drag off his own cigarette before going back to his sweeping. Maybe if he ignored her, went about his regular routine she would get bored and go try and whip up some trouble somewhere else. He wasn’t sure what she wanted from him, but he was certain that he wasn’t going to give it to her. 

[ofelahwriting]

          It felt as if Ophelia’s life had changed overnight. As if it was only yesterday that she had been a child, atop her one of her father’s knees, her brother on his other, youthful bliss in their hearts, their mother smiling at them from across the room. Now her brother was gone, miles away at college, her mother was six feet underground and her father...Did she even know her father? He had once been her hero, she had believed that he had loved her mother above all else but her mother had barely been cold before Polonius’s eyes wandered towards other women and it didn’t take long after that to cast their sights on recently widowed Gertrude. 

Now it was her last summer before she left for college, just as Laertes did four years previous. Before he left there had been parties and celebration – she had none of that – and of course their yearly vacation with Hamlet’s family. Hamlet, how she missed him, how her heart longed to see him again. Perhaps that is was why she had taken to riding her bike to his old old house – a route that she knew as well as the back her hand – when the sound of her father and Gertrude’s fornication became too much for her to bare. 

The ride towards Hamlet’s house soothed her, reminded her of happier times when she would often ride to the Hewson’s house and sneak up to Hamlet’s window. But now Hamlet was long gone, she hadn’t seen him since his father’s funeral, and all Ophelia was left with were memories.

The Hewson house had been empty for months how, ever since Gertrude had moved in with Ophelia and her father. It made Ophelia’s heartbreak a little bit every time she saw the elegant house sitting empty and lifeless, so she was surprised to see a single window lit up. Hamlet’s window.  

She quickly jumped off her bike, abandoning it on the front lawn without a second thought and bounded towards the front door. As she was expected, it was unlocked and she felt her heart skip a beat. “Hello,” She yelled, looking around her for signs of life as she headed towards the stairs. “Is anyone here?” 

[ofelahwriting]

rowanxginny‌:

Ginny’s heart was already pounding by the time she saw Tom. Opening up the diary, she knew exactly what would happen, and it was with a rush of adrenaline that her hand lifted the cover, anxiety mixed with anticipation, trepidation mixed with excitement. She’d turned towards the diary more and more in the past few weeks—months, if she were truly being honest—but actually seeing the person behind the words that had appeared before her on the page…it had left a feeling inside the pit of Ginny’s stomach that hadn’t gone away since the very first time she’d seen him.

Tom. His name, simplicity at its finest, just seemed to fit in her mouth. He’d become a comfort to her in a way that not even the diary itself had managed to achieve. In the beginning, she’d poured her soul into the blank pages, reveling in the way ink had traced letters next to hers in a handwriting she hadn’t recognized, finding a friend that Ginny had been sorely missing. And it had been enough until the first time he’d appeared before her. And ever since then, Ginny had been asking herself how, how, had she thought conversing with Tom through a magical diary would be enough to suffice?

But now, Ginny was here. She wasn’t exactly sure where here was, but magic itself had boundaries she couldn’t comprehend and didn’t try to. All she knew was that it was too much of a risk for him to come to her, not when the only place she had any privacy was her dorm and even then, there were four other girls who could walk in at any moment. To enter and see Ginny writing furiously in the diary was not out of the ordinary, not anymore, but it just wasn’t enough, anymore.

“Tom,” she breathed, unable to match his smirk and settling for the barest hint of a smile instead. He always seemed to be able to pull that off when she never could. If her heart had already been pounding at just the sight of him, then it stuttered when he brushed her hair back, his hand shifting across the side of her face. He felt strange, like there was a thin film of something between them, but Ginny pushed the irregularities away. She’d never heard of anything like this and was hesitant to ask anyone in her life, afraid they’d take the diary away, take Tom away. “I’ve missed you, too,” she admitted. “It’s always boring out there. I have more fun here with you.”

Tom didn’t know where he was, what he was, just that it was pure magic, dark magic. It felt like only yesterday that he was roaming the halls of Hogwarts, that he had opened The Chamber, but now he was here, in this place that he didn’t understand and from what Ginny had told him decades have past since he had attended Hogwarts, that the Tom he once was was long gone. 

“Hmmm,” He hummed, curling her crimson hair around his finger, relishing in how solid it felt, when he felt more akin to a ghost than human. He studied Ginny’s pretty face, the tilt of her head and how her body drew closer towards him. Such a sweet girl, so much goodness in her. It drew him to her, like a moth to the flame. It was a twisted game he played, to see how far he could good, how much goodness he could take for himself before she stopped him.

“You could always stay.” He grinned down at her, pulling at the stand of hair down tightly wrapped around his pointer finger. He didn’t pull hard, not enough to hurt, just enough to put pressure on her scalp, a reminder of the literal and figurative hold he had on her. “Maybe I won’t let you go back this time Ginny.” His voice was smooth, like a snake and his grin was beautiful but with a dangerous edge to it. “Maybe I’ll keep you here with me as long as I like, you wouldn’t mind that, would you?”

The idea of keeping Ginny here – wherever here was – was all too tempting. In his own twisted and rotten way he cared for her, like he had never cared for anyone. She was his, his sweet Ginny, no one else’s. He hated the idea of her going back to her world, where others could talk to her, see her, touch her. He was going to be her everything, he would never stop until he possessed her completely and had her all to himself. 

[ofelahwriting]

rowanxginny‌:

Rowan wasn’t quite sure what he was doing here.

Wandering from room to room, a glass in his hand that kept being refilled with various types of alcohol—from whiskey to tequila to a dark, sweet rum that he’d actually rather enjoyed—while his mind was somewhere far, far from here. It was somewhere where the guests at the graduation party were not, in a space filled with loud music and empty houses, nothing but his head, empty of any thoughts, present to keep him company.

But here…here, there were crowds. Here, there were people Rowan didn’t recognize at all, almost every single person he’d come across so far except for his best friend and his parents, who were responsible for throwing the party for their daughter, fresh out of college. And he hadn’t even seen the guest of honor. Rowan doubted he’d even recognize her upon first glance. How long had it been since he’d seen Cassandra? He’d left for college as soon as he could, so eager to get away from home, and she’d been, what? Thirteen? Fourteen?

Suffering through the grief of losing a sister (Her twin, Rowan reminded himself grimly, as if the situation couldn’t get any worse than it had) and then thrown right into the pit of high school. And if what Rowan remembered of Cassandra had held up true, then it surely couldn’t have been an easy time for her. Quiet, unassuming. But Cassandra, admittedly, was the furthest thing from Rowan’s already-distracted mind, not when there was a gorgeous girl eyeing him down from across the room. It had been something like a personal game to Rowan, spending the night searching for the girl in the black dress with a wicked smirk.

Well, if I have to be here, he thought to himself, making his way to the bar with his empty glass in hand, already preparing to get himself a fresh drink and returning the girl’s smile when she appeared at his side. “Oh, having a blast,” he remarked. “A bunch of college kids and some friends of the parents? Just my kind of scene.” Rowan looked her up and down and took a sip from his refilled glass. “And you?”

She remembered when she was younger she would follow Rowan and her brother around everywhere, especially after Rebecca died. She never said very much, tried not to bother them, she was just wanted to be around them, to be around anyone, even if they mostly ignored her. What teenage boy wanted their geeky little sister hanging around, but her brother let her stay as long as she was quiet and didn’t embarrass him. Then they left for college and Cassandra was alone again. 

She chuckled, watching him as he looked her over. All night people had been giving her a double take, at first they looked confused because they couldn’t quite place her, quickly followed by surprise when they realized who she was. Rowan didn’t look at her like that, in fact he didn’t look at her with any recognition at all, and thats when Cassie realized that he didn’t recognize her.  Part of her was a little hurt, had she really been so invisible back then that he didn’t remember? Another part of her felt pride and excitement. All her work to reinvent herself had paid off, now she could have some fun. 

“Yeah you seem like the type.” She said with a smirk. “Whats not to love about sucking up to parents friends and avoiding people you went to high school with right?” She joked, a mock cheery grin on her face. She reach over the bar to to grab a bottle of whiskey and refilled her glass, practically filling it to the brim. “But at least they have an open bar right?” She asked, holding her glass out to clink against his. 

“Oh I’m having a grand old time, catching up with my nearest and dearest.” She gestured  towards the room of revelers. Wasn’t a graduation party supposed to be full of ones nearest and dearest? If someone saw how many people had fit into the lake house her parents had rented for the celebration one could assume that Cassandra was on of the most popular girls in town, but she was just looking out into a sea of strangers. 

“So how do you know the family?” She asked, feeling just a little bit wicked. 

[ofelahwriting]

nickhadwell‌:

“Yeah, I’m the best uncle because I take them to get ice cream… my brother in law’s brother is…not as fun. he does finance and he’s boring, at least according to my nieces.” he laughs softly, “no, I’m not from new york… I’m originally from Scotland… I was born in Scotland and then my parents moved here, my sister was born here too and I’ve been here ever since. I really love New York though, it’s my home now.” he laughs. 

“oh I bet you’ve set your own fires, don’t act like i’m the ultimate bad kid for setting my microwave on fire.” he shakes his head, rilling his eyes. “ah, my niece would love you, bubblegum is such a good flavor.” he smiles, “c’mon, you wanna take a cab or you wanna walk?”

"Wow someone who is even more boring than you?” She said in mock surprise. “So basically what you’re telling me is that the only people who think you’re cool are children.” She grinned at him, hoping that he wouldn’t be too offended by her teasing. “A scotsman? Can you do the accent for me?”

She rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. “So there was a fire or two, and maybe one time I flooded the house at the Hamptons.” Sloan had never been the best behaved child, any therapist would say that it was a cry for help, and they were probably right. “Lets get a cab. it’s a little chilly.” She said, realizing that her red satin dress did very little to protect her from the cool nighttime breeze. 

[ofelahwriting]

              Her parents house was filled to the brim with party goers. They were all here to celebrate her but she barely recognized any of them. Sure one looked vaguely familiar, she had seen another one’s picture in one of the family albums, and wasn’t that the prom queen? But she didn’t know any of them, they were all people her parents had invited, people from the past that Cassandra had tried to put behind her, that she no longer had a connection too and no longer knew her. They all remembered the quiet girl who hid behind long brown hair and large unbecoming glasses, who spent ever Friday night on the couch watching TV with her parents while her classmates were out partying. They all remembered the girl who had lost a sister. 

She wasn’t that girl anymore, that girl was a stranger, Cassandra had left her behind with all these people. College had changed her, gone was the long hair and glasses, replaced by a chic hairstyle and black eyeliner, she wore slinky dresses, drank red wine,  and spoke Italian. She had started taking a shot every time someone exclaimed “My, you’ve changed!” tonight, and she was starting to wobble on her heels a bit. 

Of course there was one person she remembered at the party, one person that she could never manage to forget. Rowan Lane. Her brothers best friend, the boy she pined over for years but never said more than a few words too at a time. She had hoped that he would be here tonight, had even worn her favorite little black dress just in case. It had paid off, he had been looking at her the whole night, he never looked at the old Cassandra like that. 

She watched him as he made his way to the open bar, her brother finally missing from the picture. She followed suit, making her way to the bar to stand besides him. “Are you enjoying the party?” She asked, giving him a sly smile.

[ofelahwriting]

            Tom always knew when Ginny had opened the dairy, his days were spent aimless, almost as if he was dreaming, but when Ginny thought of him or opened the dairy it was like being woken up. Thankfully for Tom she had been turning to the dairy more and more everyday and he no longer had to wait long until he was joined by the girl with hair like fire. 

“Hello Ginny,” He drawled, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth as Ginny appeared before him. When she first started writing in the dairy he could only communicate with her through the pages but as their bond grew they had begun to appear to each other. If she was alone he could come to her but mostly she came to him, wherever he was, he still wasn’t completely sure. He approached her, his best smile plastered onto his handsome face. It was the smile that always got him out of trouble, that made people feel at ease, hid the bile that surrounded his heart. 

“I’ve missed you.” He said, reaching out and tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. He wasn’t lying completely, he had missed her. No – He had been craving her, he needed her, that was different from missing.