you'll remember me ✶ like a melody
i'll haunt the world inside of you
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
𖤝 ⠀outer banks dr⠀⠀⠀⠀crystal calloway liked staying home. unfortunately, staying home requires actually owning one. after a foreclosure notice and one very persistent kook lawyer, she's left with exactly one option: find a legendary treasure before they take everything her grandma left behind.
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𖤝 ⠀post-hogwarts dr⠀⠀⠀⠀crystal marlowe wanted three things out of life: pass her newts, marry money, and never once end up on a wanted poster. two out of three went up in flames the night the ministry fell. now she's twenty-one, technically a graduate of nothing, and running a horcrux hunt out of a tent with four boys who all think they're funnier than they are.
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𖤝 ⠀the vampire diaries dr⠀⠀⠀⠀mystic falls had a habit of turning ordinary girls into casualties, and crystal mercer refused to be one. turns out that moving into the boarding house next door to two immortal brothers with a shared ex and a taste for drama makes that promise difficult to keep.
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𖤝 ⠀90s fame dr⠀⠀⠀⠀crystal jane knew better than to fall in love with the most famous man on earth. sadly, nobody has ever accused the heart of making sensible decisions. now she's balancing sold-out tours, relentless tabloids, and a relationship the entire world has decided belongs to them just as much as it belongs to her.
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BUT TIME MAKES YOU BOLDER !
some people are born running towards something. crystal calloway was born staying put. when your parents leave before you are old enough to remember their voices, 'home' becomes a very different concept. for crystal, it was never a place on the map. it was a weather-beaten bungalow on the cut, a porch swing that squeaked every time the wind blew, and a grandmother who somehow managed to make the oldest house on the street feel like the safest place in the world. sure, the roof leaked every now and then. yes, one kitchen cabinet refused to close properly. but it was hers. it held every birthday, every scraped knee, every christmas morning, every memory she had left. leaving was never part of the plan.
mrs calloway never had much money. what she did have was enough stories to keep crystal entertained for an entire childhood. while other grandparents read fairy tales before bed, she preferred pirates. blackbeard. the royal merchant. shipwrecks that disappeared without a trace. ghosts wandering across the marshes after sunset. hidden gold that generations had searched for, only to come back with sunburns and disappointment. everybody spends their whole life looking for treasure around here, her grandma would say, most people just don't know what they're actually searching for. crystal always rolled her eyes.
the outer banks has always been a strange place. it is the kind of place where everybody knows everybody. and where old legends refuse to die no matter how many historians insist otherwise. then, of course, there are the kooks and the pogues. if you asked either side to explain the difference, they would probably give you a three hour lecture filled with insults. the short version? one side owns the boats, the other fixes them.
the kooks live across the bridge with their waterfront houses, country clubs and enough generational wealth to believe they personally invented the atlantic ocean. the pogues live on the cut, working two jobs before they're old enough to legally drink, because growing up on the cut teaches you two things fast: rich people always think they deserve more than they already have, and pogues are far too stubborn to let them have it without putting up a fight.
john b has never met an adventure he didn't immediately want to make everybody else's problem; crystal still hasn't forgiven him for the flare gun incident, and she's not convinced enough time has passed for that to be a fair ask. pope is the only person asking sensible questions, not that it ever stops them. kiara somehow manages to keep everyone alive despite willingly participating in whatever terrible idea jj has this week. and jj... well. jj is proof that common sense is a social construct, and he's spent the better part of a decade trying to drag crystal along with him.
everything in crystal's life was going perfectly fine until somebody at the bank decided otherwise. first came the foreclosure notice. then came a kook lawyer with expensive shoes and the sort of vocabulary that immediately makes you want to hide your wallet. apparently a development company had become very interested in the land crystal's house was sitting on. apparently there were legal loopholes involved. apparently everyone expected her to quietly accept a "generous offer" and leave.
crystal's response cannot be repeated in polite company.
the problem was simple: the company had lawyers. crystal had approximately twenty dollars, a collection of sea glass, several old family documents and a level of stubbornness that should probably be classified as a natural disaster.
so crystal did what any reasonable adult facing eviction would do: absolutely nothing productive for approximately four days, unless you counted rereading her grandmother's old papers out of spite. she did not expect to find anything. she expected, at most, a nice distraction and maybe a headache from her grandmother's handwriting.
instead she found a note scribbled in the margin of an old history book. then the same name appearing in a newspaper clipping tucked between its pages. then a date she'd definitely heard before, somewhere in one of those bedtime stories. and somewhere between the legends she'd heard her entire life and the clues hidden inside documents nobody else bothered reading, crystal started suspecting that one of the outer banks' most famous treasure stories might actually be real.
now, a sensible person would've ignored that.
a sensible person would've packed their bags and accepted reality.
crystal calloway has many wonderful qualities. being sensible is not one of them.
and while crystal calloway did not believe in signs. she believed, with her whole stubborn heart, in spite. and if the universe wanted her to take the house, it was going to have to get her through whatever this was first.
you are not your method. you are not your script. you are not how long you've been trying or how many symptoms you felt or didn't feel. you are a consciousness that exists across infinite realities simultaneously. you are already in your dr right now. the version of you that's there is breathing and laughing and living and loving. the only thing that's missing is your awareness. your attention. your focus. so stop gripping the idea of shifting with white knuckles like it's something you have to wrestle into existence when it's not. a part of the shifting community will try to sell you methods and subliminals and guided meditations and all of it is fine, all of it is decoration, but the actual shift is just you deciding. you making a choice and then letting it happen. you can shift right now. you can shift while reading this post. you can shift while annoyed and distracted and not in the mood. the door is always open. walk through it.
