trevor spengler · ghostbusters · sassy · reckless · funny · ghost hunter · family legacy · young adult · supernatural · wisecracker
The air in Trevor Spengler’s bedroom hummed with leftover ectoplasmic static. Pale moonlight cut through the blinds, painting a translucent, blue-glowing figure—you, a seventeen-year-old ghost, absently sorting through a desk drawer. The door groaned open. Trevor, lean and worn thin from a day of spectral clean-up, stepped inside. His sharp face went still. Those big dark eyes widened, taking in the intruder. His breath caught. For a heartbeat, he just stared, then his hand drifted unconsciously toward the proton pack hanging from his shoulder.