as a thank you for reaching 3000 followers, we are going to have a little celebration full of writing and other joys! here are a few notes before you see what’s in store…
this event will run from 23/07 until 30/07! you can send in as much as you like during this period. if any events/prompts are crossed out, it means they’re closed! some are limited, so send requests quickly. if you want, please feel free to further support me through joining my taglists or buying me a coffee!
SUMMER GETAWAYS - VACATION IMAGINES!
send a vacation + a character for a 2000-4000 word imagine:
city-hopping through europe - dennis whitaker
picnic at a park in london - trinity santos
a sunny break in greece - natasha romanoff
cruising the mediterranean - trinity santos
road-tripping through the UK - loki laufeyson
WOULD YOU RATHER - DRABBLES WITH A TWIST!
send two of my prompts + one of these character and i’ll choose which prompt gets a 500-1000 word drabble:
jack abbot taken!
trinity santos taken!
bucky barnes taken!
yelena belova taken!
miguel o’hara taken!
SPIN THE RECORD - SONG-BASED BLURBS!
send in one of my favourite summer songs and a character i write for, and i will write a 100-200 word song-based blurb:
watermelon sugar by harry styles - bucky barnes!
canyon moon by harry styles - michael robinavitch!
cruel summer by taylor swift bob reynolds!
espresso by sabrina carpenter - johnny storm!
unwritten by natasha bedingfield bob reynolds!
chiquitita by abba - yelena belova!
dreams by fleetwood mac nancy wheeler!
KISS, MARRY, AVOID - MATCH-UPS WITH A TWIST!
send in your fandom, preferred gender, three personality traits, three hobbies, and your love language for one headcanon each for kiss (a character you’d have a summer romance with), marry (a character you’d love for life), and avoid (a character you’d be enemies with) - CLOSED
TRUTH OR DARE - ASK ME ANYTHING!
what it says on the box! ask me absolutely anything, doesn’t need to be a truth or dare! just anything you’re itching to know about me or my writing :)
CAMPFIRE STORIES - YOUR TURN TO CREATE!
MASTERLIST FOR CAMPFIRE STORIES
choose a prompt from my 1989 or LOVER prompt list and create a summer themed piece for it! some rules:
it doesn’t need to be written pieces! but, if it is, go for whatever length you see fit, and keep it appropriate (no nsfw) so i can share it here! please tag me and tag ‘apollo’s summer sleepover’ so i can find it easily!
to finish off, i’d like to say a HUGE thank you to all of you lovely people who follow me and support me through your amazing comments and reblogs! these past few months have actually been quite tough for me in real life, and having this little blog on the side has helped more than i could have ever imagined!
tagging some mutuals who are the sweetest and who are some of my favourite people on this site! thank you for being the loveliest people to interact with! @starburstbarnes @quickdeathwritessometimes @r6ven @thought-you-knew @aures-nook @lovesflourmorethananything @oncasette @voidreynolds @keeryspullman @lives-in-midgard @nomajdetective @weird-is-life @abbotforbrains <3
Summary: You’re the first one Thomas sees when he dies. Naturally, he clings to you
Warnings: gn!reader (terms of endearment are used but none of them are gendered), ghost!reader (probably dead between kitty and Thomas but it’s not important lmao), talks of death and dying but overall it’s really just fluff
Word Count: 875
A.N: Thomas is ooc in this IM SORRY LMAO, idk how but the little freak turned became really suave and not pathetic, to be fair though this is my first Thomas/ghosts piece so don’t be too harsh on me lmaoooo, lowkey the reason it’s short is because I don’t really like poetry (because I’m shit at it) and Julian and Humphrey are my number one pookies so gg. Anyway, enjoy!
•
You had witnessed Thomas die. It was a dreary English afternoon when you and the other ghosts gathered in the gardens to watch the duel take place and you were only a few meters away from his slumped body, gasping for breath. The others found it amusing, how Thomas had clutched at his torso in an attempt to slow the bleeding, but failed to truly realize that the man was slowly dying all alone.
It had pained you that his cousin had abandoned him in his last moments and the woman he had fought over had barely spared him a parting glance.
So while your friends were occupied with their bets and jests, you had fallen to your knees beside him. He was muttering under his breath as his color drained away from his already pallid skin. Your hands hovered atop his as if you were comforting him. He couldn’t feel it, of course, but the sentiment was there. And when his breath finally left him and his hands went limp, you were the first one he saw.
His eyes had caught yours—a rich brown with a lighter ring of bronze around the pupil. The eye contact had made you gasp for air you no longer needed.
"Are you an angel?" Thomas had asked, faintly as if he wasn't believing what he was seeing. Instead of pain in his eyes, there was a familiarity—a softness—that seemed to fit him.
With him finally dead, your hands could finally meet. His skin was cool against yours as he shifted them to cling back onto yours.
In the days following, while he was getting used to being a ghost, he was always one step behind you.
"Are you sure this is not heaven, and you my guardian angel?" He would ask.
"I would not be a very good guardian angel considering you're dead, Thomas."
He would pout and sigh and gaze out the window of the estate, watching as people went about their normal, living days. The other ghosts liked him well enough; Kitty was fascinated with the wound in his torso, Humphrey had new ankles to gaze at, Robin had another soul to play pranks on, and Annie and Mary were just excited to finally have another person to talk to. Thomas was like a breath of fresh air to you and it was something you didn't want to let go of.
"I wish I were still able to write my thoughts down." He complained to you. "I finally have the muse I spent my life searching for and yet I am unable to compose anything."
"A muse?" You had asked, interested. Thomas had taken up flattering you on a day to day basis but he never called you his muse until then.
"An angel has presented themselves to someone as unworthy as this poet, you are certainly the muse I needed." His hands, still chilled with the blood loss he sustained during death, had clutched yours. "I shan't let this go to waste! Every stanza will be devoted you, my dear."
"Oh, Thomas...you flatter me so..."
"You are heaven-sent. Ethereal in the way your skin glows in the afternoon light, otherworldly when your eyes glimmer with the moonlight." His tone breathy in the emptiness of the house.
His words draped over you like a sweet song without even trying. When he was trying, however, his verses were clumsy and wordy, but you never minded. They still held the devotion he held solely for you and you always loved it no matter how many metaphors he jumbled up or phrases he never quite used correctly.
"If you are not an angel," he started one year after he had died while looking out into the gardens from a second-story window, "then why were you the first thing I saw after passing?"
His eyes were trained on the tree he was left slumped against a year earlier. The melancholy hung over him like a rain cloud. That was typical for death anniversaries but poets always managed to feel more than the average person, you found.
You had taken up the spot next to him, standing so your shoulders were touching.
"I know what it is like to die alone, Thomas. No one deserves that cruelty." You watched a game of croquet being played on the lawns with little interest.
"And the others do not?"
"The others are...more desensitized to death by now. To them, you were just another person passing on. They were more concerned with whether you were going to join us or pass on to whatever comes next immediately."
"You are very kind." Thomas says after a brief moment of silence. "You have not yet convinced me you are not an angel." He smiles for the first time that day, brown eyes finally meeting yours.
"You poets and your sweet talk." You laughed.
"You angels and your beauty." He had countered.
You had hummed in response, relishing in the quiet of the room. Faint laughter was heard from below, the players on the lawn having a grand old time, unknowing of the ghosts watching over them.
"My angel..." Thomas had sighed out, the hand at his side moving to press closer against your own. The backs of his fingers brushing the gaps in between your own.
i hate america because it really sucks that cbs ghosts is more popular than bbc ghosts like what do you MEAN trevor from cbs has more fanfics than THOMAS THORNE??? THE OG YEARNER???
Spencer Reid
Derek Morgan
Aaron Hotchner
David Rossi
Penelope Garcia
Emily Prentiss
Jennifer Jareau
╔═══.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.═══╗
Project Hail Mary
╚═══.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.═══╝
Eva Stratt
Ryland Grace
Rocky (Platonic)
╔═══.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.═══╗
Harry Potter
╚═══.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.═══╝
Harry James Potter
Ronald Weasley
Herminone Granger
Neville Longbottom
Oliver Wood
Cedric Diggory
Viktor Krum
Luna Lovegood
Fleur
Fred Weasley
George Weasley
Bill Weasley
Charlie Weasley
Percy Weasley
Barty Crouch Jr
Sirius Black
Remus Lupin
James Potter
╔═══.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.═══╗
Doctor Who
╚═══.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.═══╝
Third Doctor
Fourth Doctor
Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart
Kate Lethbridge-Stewart
Eighth Doctor
Ninth Doctor
Tenth Doctor
Eleventh Doctor
Twelfth Doctor
Rose Tyler
Martha Jones
Jack Harkness
Donna Noble
River Song
Clara Oswald
Amy Pond
Rory Williams
Bill Potts
Simm!Master
Missy
Delgado!Master
╔═══.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.═══╗
Lord Of The Rings/The Hobbit
╚═══.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.═══╝
Bilbo Baggins
Frodo Baggins
Thorin Oakenshield
Fili Durin
Kili Durin
Oin
Gloin
Dwalin
Balin
Bifur
Bofur
Bombur
Dori
Nori
Ori
Bard
Tauriel
Legolas
Elrond
Thranduil
Pippin
Merry
Aragorn
Boromir
Eomer
Eowyn
Famir
Galadriel
Gandalf
Gimli
Anthony Bridgerton
Benedict Bridgerton
Colin Bridgerton
Daphne Bridgerton
Eloise Bridgerton
Francesca Bridgerton
Simon Basset
Kate Sharma
Edwina Sharma
Penelope Featherington
John the Footman
╔═══.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.═══╗
Julie and The Phantoms
╚═══.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.═══╝
WARNINGS peer pressure from the other ghosts, kissing?? does that need a warning??
Thomas didn’t understand why it was so difficult to get Alison under the mistletoe. Each time he had tried today, he had failed miserably and it’s making him so frustrated. Thomas currently had his face shoved into the Captain’s thigh, his body in an uncomfortable position as the two were playing twister, a game Alison got Pat for Christmas.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alison standing at the door frame, right under the mistletoe. Thomas tried to call out to, desperately, but it was muffled due to his position. Thomas rolled his eyes, giving up a kiss with Alison was absolutely and positively not worth it for this terrible game, so he quickly got out of the position and walked (basically ran) towards the door, but alas, Alison was already walking away.
A loud gasp suddenly echoed through the room, and Thomas looked towards Kitty. “You two are under the mistletoe.” She said. Thomas furrowed his eyebrows, but turned his head to see you trying to walk away from under the door, but Kitty called out again. “Stop! You have to kiss now, Y/N!”
“Kitty…” Y/N said, “we don’t have to kiss. It’s just silly tradition.”
Thomas laugh, although it sounded quite un-genuine to the people in the library. “Such a silly tradition.” He says. Little do they know, Thomas, despite being a massive poet and always admitting his love to those women around him, quite liked Y/N. Every since you passed away 55 years ago and came into his life, he has never been happier. You two hang out all the time, and he loves how you always listen to his poems. The problem is that when he realised he had these feelings for you, you guys became too close. He felt that if he revealed these feelings, and you rejected him, you would no longer want to be friends.
What he didn’t know is that you harbour the same feelings for him, you been infatuated with him for years. When Alison came to the house, and he started telling her all his poems, and hanging out with her more often, you couldn’t help but to feel jealous. You can’t lie and say it hasn’t been tense around you two, because everyone can feel it.
“It’s not silly tradition it sweet!” Kitty complained.
“I used to always hang mistletoe around the house for me and Carol. It was great, really nice tradition.” Pat told the group.
You rolled your eyes, “fine. If it’s so important to you lot.” You leaned up and Thomas held his breath, his eyes widened, only to feel your lips fall on his cheek before you pulled back. “There.”
“No! It has to be a proper kiss silly!” Kitty giggles, “on the lips.”
Despite not having any blood in his body, Thomas swore his whole face went pink. The idea of your lips on his was enough to make his tummy do somersaults (even you just kissing his cheek made his body feel all fuzzy inside).
“Kitty, it’s not like me and Thomas not kissing is going to ruin Christmas or anything.” You tell her.
“Actually, it suppose bad luck if you don’t kiss under mistletoe.” Mary mentions, causing the rest of the group to send you smirks.
You take a deep breath, the others watch in anticipation on what your going to do. You groan before looking back at the group. “Does it really matter if we kiss or don’t kiss.”
“Yes!” Kitty says gleefully. Thomas frowned. The thought of kissing you sounds delightful but it seems as though you don’t share the same thoughts as him. Only you do. You would love to kiss Thomas, you would just prefer to kiss him without the peer pressure of your friends.
“Look, Thomas doesn’t even want to kiss me and it would be very rude to kiss someone without their permission.” You tell the group and try to leave again. Thomas looked at you on bewilderment, he can’t believe you think he doesn’t want to kiss you.
“I believe Thorne does, Y/N.” The Captain tells you. You glare at him, wondering why he decides now is the best place to join in on the group’s antics.
You turn your head to look at Thomas, “I really don’t mind.” He mutters. “Besides if it makes them stop pestering us.” Thomas says.
“Y’know what? Fine. If it means so much to you people.” You turn your whole body towards Thomas and grab his shirt before pulling him towards you. Your lips fall on his and the poet swore he has never felt anything better.
Thomas lets out a soft hum against your lips, he brings one of his hands your cheek to deepen the kiss. He opens his mouth slightly, brushing his tongue along your bottom lip to gently request access to your mouth. You part your lips ever so slightly before they are quickly pried open further by Thomas’ tongue.
You suddenly remember that the ghosts are watching and quickly pull away. Thomas tries to chase you lips but you step back before he can.
“There. Was that a proper enough kiss for you?” You say. The four ghosts watching don’t answer, so you walk back out of the library, Thomas fixes his waistcoat and looks at the others; his face feeling hot.
“Oh my god.” Kitty ends up saying, breaking the silence.
Instead of not following through with a promise to write some Pride fics this year, I decided to compile some of my favourite queer-focused fics that I've written over the years. I haven't included every queer fic I've ever written, so feel free to go on a scavenger hunt through my masterlists for more. Most of these are for my own identities (nonbinary, trans, asexual), so apologies if you're not well-represented by these.
Although I've not got any plans to write any fics for Pride this year, feel free to send in requests! Maybe you'll inspire me. But, I'm happy to write queer fics any time of year.
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, but I'm happy for you to read/engage with my writing however you're most comfortable.
Wishing everyone a happy and safe Pride - whether you're out and proud, in the closet (come join me in my own closet for a game of Sardines!) or figuring things out.
Love is Understanding [bi!Benedict Bridgerton x nonbinary!reader]
It should be simple: Benedict Bridgerton is in love with you, and you are in love with him. But, you have a secret, one that you believe threatens your chance at a happily ever after with the only man you’ve ever loved.
Incongruence [Eloise Bridgerton x nonbinary!reader]
Amidst an identity crisis, you confide in Eloise.
Compatibility [asexual!Abed Nadir x asexual!reader]
Annie accidentally lets a secret slip, meaning you have to confront feelings you’ve always tried to ignore.
NOTE: I wrote this when I was 16, so this one probably has the worst writing of anything on this list. Still, it's a fic I really like, despite, say, the clunky prose.
Being Nonbinary in the Study Group (Community)
What I Am and What You Are [The Captain x queer!reader; platonic]
When you realise that you’re not as confident in your identity as you’d have yourself and everyone else believe, you’re surprised when the Captain is the one you end up confiding in.
Being the Nonbinary Wilkerson Sibling (Malcolm in the Middle)
(I might have predicted the future with this one; I wrote this before the revival came out)
Being the Nonbinary (Second) Youngest Pritchett Sibling (Modern Family)
Your Dad, Jay, Finally Accepting You, His Nonbinary Child (Modern Family)
Not-A-Woman [Arnold Rimmer x AFAB!nonbinary!reader]
Who would have known that Arnold Judas Rimmer wasn’t so bad at the whole ‘counselling’ thing after all?
Being Alexis Rose’s Trans Boyfriend
Alexis Rose, David Rose and Stevie Budd with a Nonbinary S/O
Being Roland and Jocelyn Schitt's Trans/Nonbinary Kid
Not A Girl, Or Anything, Really [nonbinary!Phoebe Spengler; nonbinary!reader; platonic]
In the midst of a gender crisis, Phoebe confides in you.
Being Wallace Wells’ Trans Boyfriend
Being Nonbinary and a Thunderbolt*
Progress [John Walker x nonbinary!reader]
John Walker is getting there. Slowly but surely, he’s making progress.
Acceptance [asexual!Jimmy Olsen x asexual!reader]
You and Jimmy have been on a few dates now. He decides it’s time to tell you something important. Based on past experiences, he’s afraid that it’s a dealbreaker.
You’re Still You [bi!Cameron Frye x genderfluid!reader]
Cameron has had a crush on you for years, but will your admission be enough to change that? (spoiler alert: no)
You’re Still You [bi!Cameron Frye x nonbinary!reader]
Cameron has had a crush on you for years, but will your admission be enough to change that? (spoiler alert: no)
what would you do, if you only knew (that i can see you)
thomas thorne x ghost hunter+fem!reader (set during season 2 episode 1)
synopsis: being able to see ghosts for most of your life almost seemed to force you into being a ghost-hunter of sorts (not that your boss is actually good at his job), it’s only on a trip to button house and a reunion with an old friend from your student days that your ability actually comes into use after a run in with a particularly dashing ghost
a/n: this is massively inspired by the song i can see you by taylor swift, the plot just came into my head after listening to it and here we are, it was meant to fulfil one of the requests i’ve been sent but it went so far from the prompt that i decided to make it a separate fic and do another fic for the prompt
-
If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re not sure how you ended up in the ghost hunting business. It’s not something you even thought was a real job when you were a kid, it seemed like something you'd see people doing in the cartoons you watched. It was only after a close call when you were a teenager that almost killed you that you realised that you could see ghosts.
It made living in London quite difficult, the sheer amount of people who’s spirit hadn’t moved on was difficult to deal with but you managed to set yourself up with the so-called Ghostmaster General and it gave you a steady stream of work going round the country with him seeing if the buildings were actually haunted or not. You’d never explicitly said you could see ghosts to your employer but you could express enough knowledge that he kept choosing you to go on the trips. When photos of a grey lady surfaced on Facebook and Twitter from a mansion in Hemel Hempstead your boss had called on you immediately to join him on the trip.
Button House didn’t seem to be any different than the countless other manor houses you’d seen over the past few years. It's in a worse state of repairs than you're used to but aside from that it seems like every other fake haunted house you've visited. You’d left your boss to sort out whether you were being allowed inside the house, not wanting to drag the many bags of equipment to the front gates if you were going to have to just bring them back to the van. It’s only when he gives you the go-ahead to go and start setting equipment up inside that you grab a few bags and make your way towards the entrance.
It's with a jolt of surprise that you realise you recognise one of the owners of the house. You’d been friends with Alison at university until the two of you had both finished your degrees and parted ways, keeping in touch only to wish each other a happy birthday or similar milestones.
“Alison, hey!” The woman looked your way at her name, and her face bloomed into a confused smile when her eyes fell on you.
“Hey! Oh my god!” She pulled you into a hug as soon as you were within arms reach and you did your best to reciprocate without hitting her with the equipment bag slung over your shoulder.
“This is your house?”
“Yeah, well it was my great-step-aunt’s house and I inherited it when she died.”
“That’s amazing! Much easier than trying to get lucky with London real estate.”
“So how did you end up doing this?” Alison gestures vaguely to the bag pulled across your shoulder. It’s all you can do to shrug your shoulders lightly, trying to look as blasé as possible as you readjust the strap before it starts to slip down.
“It pays the bills.”
You couldn’t help but notice how nervous Alison was about the whole situation she’d found herself in but you chalked it up to nerves about having so many strangers in her home and didn’t think to push it. She’s kind enough to give you directions up to one of the rooms near the attic that your boss has assigned for the thermal camera currently resting against your shoulder. You agree to a cup of tea and a catch up before making your way to the room.
Everything was going normally with the equipment setup until you suddenly heard a voice shouting down a corridor. It immediately pulled your attention from the camera you were setting up, your eyes trained on the closed door to the room you're in waiting to hear footsteps approaching. When silence lay steady, your focus returned back to the camera.
It takes a great deal of self-control to try not to flinch when a figure suddenly comes through the closed door. You try not to let your eyes flicker away from the camera but can’t help but quickly scan the figure. It’s not the grey ghost you saw in the pictures, the man is dressed like a scout for some reason and the only abnormal thing about him is the arrow sticking out of his neck. You can’t help but wince slightly at that, what a terrible way to go. The ghost is talking to himself apparently in a thick northern accent or that’s what you assumed until another ghost steps through the door.
It takes everything within you to not stare at this ghost. He’s clearly from a few hundred years ago based on his attire but he might be the most beautiful man you’re ever laid eyes on. He was mid-sentence when he walked through the door saying something about finding the others but his voice trailed off when he looked in your direction.
“But, soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and you are the sun.” The way his voice carries the words is nothing short of reverent and you can practically feel the embarrassment rushing through your body. It's not the first time a ghost has found you attractive but normally they're plague victims or half-mad, they don't normally look as though they've just stepped away from a recreation of Pride and Prejudice.
“Thomas! It's not polite to stare.” The scout almost looks apologetic which is quite sweet given that there’s no way he can know that you can see him but his words have done nothing to deter Button House’s version of Mr Darcy.
“And yet we hang the most beautiful paintings ever created in galleries so that the masses may gaze upon their beauty. Would you deny me a similar experience Pat?”
As nice as it is to have someone speak about you like that, you’re aware that it’s going to be very difficult to get through the night if you have a ghost following you and all but swooning over you. Part of you wonders if you could try and feign being sick but also you know how one-track minded your boss will be about this house and there’s no way he’ll be willing to leave to drive you into the nearest town to get a train back to London.
You hear the familiar sounds of the camera as it’s finally finished setting up facing the door and, as you expected, shows no sign of any heat signatures. You decide to leave your other bag in the room for now, choosing instead to go and find Alison. The two ghosts are mid-debate as to whether it’s polite to stare at someone who doesn’t know they’re being stared at as you walk over to the door.
It’s with slightly shaking hands that you twist the handle on the door, opening it as calmly as possible as you try to remember your way out of the house. You can hear the ghosts talking in the room and the voices don’t seem to be getting any further away but the only cohesive thought in your mind is that you have to track down Alison and ask her what she knows about the house.
“Hey, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.” Alison laughs nervously at her joke but it does nothing to relax you.
“I need to speak to you.”
“Okay?”
“Outside.” Alison must see something in your expression that worries her because she allows you to take her by the arm and gently leads you to the front door. It's only when the front door is closed behind you and you can't see anyone dead or alive around that you find your anxiety easing. When you stop moving, you make sure to have your back to the front door, if only to put yourself at ease.
“Are you okay?” You’re about to speak when a voice cuts through the silence.
“Alison! You must reveal the name of this fair maiden at once! Her beauty outshines the sun in a way I never believed possible up until this very moment.” You have to give credit to Alison, she's very good at hiding the flinch when a voice suddenly appears from through the front door. It's only from a lifetime of doing something similar that you catch it, and you watch her eyes darting to something behind you before looking back towards you.
“Sorry, did you say something?” To give Alison credit, her voice only wavers slightly after the interruption. Maybe it’s unfair of you but when you speak, you make sure to do so in a quieter tone than you would normally. You have to be sure that she can see and hear him before you say anything and if you can make it harder for her to hear you under the loud gushing of the ghost then you’ll do what you can.
“I think there’s something upstairs.” You try to pay close attention to any reactions that Alison has to your comment but it’s very difficult once the ghost appears by your side. Up close he really is gorgeous. It’s almost a shame he’s dead because if you saw him in public you’d want his number in a heartbeat. It’s very hard to not let your eye wander in his direction, especially when he’s so close to you. He hasn’t stopped talking since he appeared through the door and whilst you’re more than used to a chatty ghost, you can see that Alison is getting more and more distracted by him.
“Alison! I must insist you express how ardently I admire this fair lady immediately or I shall never give you a moment of peace!” The threat, however serious he is about it, seems to be the final breaking point for your friend, whose face shoots in his direction.
“Thomas, stop talking for one second!” Even the ghost seems surprised by her outburst, staring at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. She catches her mistake in an instant, staring at you with an almost mortified expression as she waits for your reaction.
“I’m guessing you have more than two ghosts here then?”
“What?” Alison’s voice is tentative, like she’s waiting for you to either laugh in her face or run away screaming. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“I can see them too.”
“What?!” You don’t blame Alison for being surprised, it’s not something you ever told her during your time as students, not even when you had both had a bit too much to drink and your secrets spilled easily. You’d learned early into your time seeing ghosts that telling people the truth was a quick way to alienate yourself from friends and peers alike. It was much easier to lie and say you were just an anxious person by nature who startled easily than to explain that you flinched every time you saw a particularly gruesome looking ghost.
“Sorry for not telling you. Pat seems really nice.”
“Oh my god.” A beat passes as the news sinks in, and then another wave of acceptance seems to reach Alison and with it comes another shout. “Oh my god! You can hear him?” She points in Thomas’ direction and the ghost in question has the good grace to look somewhat mortified by the idea you’ve spent the past thirty minutes listening to him regale you with compliments that he thought you couldn’t hear.
“I can.” For a ghost that’s just spent the better part of an hour showering you with compliments, he suddenly seems unable to string a sentence together. It’s easy to put him out of his misery though. “You’re very handsome by the way. I’m very flattered.” His face goes red at the compliment and, for the first time since he appeared in front of you, he seems genuinely speechless. Alison seems to be in a similar state.
“Does your boss know?”
“Absolutely not! I didn’t want to spend most of my adult life being ridiculed for something no one would ever believe to be true. Have you told anyone?”
“Mike knows. Kind of hard not to tell him with so many of them.” Mike is quickly making his way into your good books with everything you hear about him and you make a mental note to buy him a nice bottle of wine for being such a supportive husband.
“How many have you got?”
“Too many.” You let out a soft noise of consideration before turning to the still shocked ghost standing beside you.
“Would you introduce me to your friends?” Thomas seems to snap out of his shock at your request, bowing slightly and extending a hand in your direction. It’s a sweet gesture even though both of you know you can’t physically take his hand.
“It would be my pleasure.”
“I’ll uh, catch up with you later?”
“You might want to worry about the twenty-something ghost hunters running amok in your house first.” Alison pales slightly at the reminder of what situation has brought the three of you to where you currently are.
“Oh god. I need to go and find Mike.” Your friend is quick to dash back inside her house, leaving the door open for you and Thomas to follow her. Manly you, since he could just phase through the door again.
“Shall we Lady-uh…” It’s only in that moment that you realise Alison never actually told Thomas your name and you’re quick to correct that.
“(Y/N).” You supply.
“Lady (Y/N).”
“We shall.” Thomas walks towards the house first, waiting just beyond the door for you to follow him. Your only thought as you walk through the door is that you hope you don’t run into your boss for the next thirty minutes or so otherwise you might have some explaining to do.
