#which would be told over different mediums

[gabiioartist]

every versions of the ruler from a story ive been building since 2018. from mahenge (2018/2019) to eurydice (the last two pictures, frm this year), heres a little improvement/developpement

[goddamnitmahtin]

A Smooth Criminal

(A dc x dp prompt)

Danny moved to Gotham after high school. Went to college. Got a degree. Found out the thing he got a degree for wasn’t able to hire him because his vitals looked half dead and he couldn’t just tell them he was in-fact half dead. Danny was never going to be an astronaut. Not only that, he had massive college debt. Well fuck.

So Danny started doing odd jobs until he found a more stable income at a psychic reading service of all places. Obviously Danny couldn’t see the future. So he only took clients that wanted to talk to dead people. Which was something he could do, given he had an object that might have had some ectoplasm on it or one of the ghosts that typically hung out in the shop knew where to find the person the client was looking for. Being that this is Gotham, not many people that die here actually cross over into the Ghost Zone. Danny was going to have to look into that at some point. But for now, it meant he had only ever once had to tell a client he couldn’t help.

Now Danny before coming to Gotham, hated psychics on principle. Most were lying and telling their clients utter bullshit. But his current boss seemed to be different. Her name was Lilith and she was very much legit when it came to precognition. She often would tell him ahead of time if a client was going to be difficult and who to watch out for on certain days. On more than one occasion, one of her warnings saved him from a mugging or kidnapping.

So, Danny learned to like his life as a medium and used the money from his job to pay his rent and pay off his college debt. Lilith paid him well and the shop had enough customers to back it up. His hours were based on appointment most of the time so he had more free time to do other things if he didn’t have many appointments for the day.

The only time that the hours went to an 8 hour shift were when one of them left to go on vacation or visit family. Thats where Lilith was this week. Out of town visiting family. Because of this, the shop’s services were limited to Danny’s medium appointments. The shop almost never had walk ins since it was so busy. The only time it ever really happened was when Lilith was gone. And most of the time it was someone wanting to buy a crystal from the window display. Nothing Danny couldn’t handle.

Except that was until Red Hood walked in, oozing with toxic ecto and a shattered mess of a core, tossed a set of pearls at him and told him to get reading.

Danny tried to help, he did. The pearls were covered in ecto and seemed to be from a tragic event but there was no ghost attached to them. Whoever they belonged to had passed on to the Ghost Zone or wasn’t dead. Danny said as much and asked Red Hood if he knew his core shattered. Danny then offered to help repair it. Red Hood did not like that. Danny got punched in the face. And he did not get paid.

*that night on call with Sam and Tucker*

Danny: And then he punched me in the face! Can you believe that?!

Sam: Given that he is a crime lord? Yeah I can.

Tucker: ….

Danny: Tucker I don’t like your suspicious silence.

Tucker: *starts giggling mischievously*

Sam: Tucker what are you doing?

Danny: Tuck-

Tucker: So what you’re saying is that- you’ve been hit by, you’ve been STRUCK by- a smooth criminal. *starts playing Smooth Criminal by Micheal Jackson except the name Annie has been edited to the name Danny*

Danny: I hate you so much

Sam: *laughing hysterically*

Tucker: *singing* Danny are you okay? Are you okay Danny?

Danny: *looks into the metaphorical camera like Jim from the office*

…

Red Hood: *nearly falls off the fire escape he was using to spy when the guy from the psychic shop looks right at him*

[fraeyyassblr]

───★ ˙ AWARENESS ̟ !!

: : and how to stop overcomplicating shifting. : :

(DETAILED) part 1: my thoughts.

when I recently discovered shifting just 3 weeks ago, one of the things I noticed in the shifting community was that there were so many people that couldn't shift for years. I was worried about being those kinds of people, and the people that have claimed to be shifters seemed to have waited over 2-3 years (or I thought.. since a lot of shifters have been there since 2020-2021.)

but when I went on tumblr, I always noticed the same simplistic advice. and I noticed that this advice can even be applied for things like astral projecting and lucid dreaming, which was a bigger platform of people where I noticed that it can take people most commonly days, weeks, a month MAXIMUM in the community. there were even those kinds of meditations that were really intense, they could let you see your past life, or heal your chakras, your body.. even prayer counts! but so how come it would take longer for reality shifting when it is equally as complicated as every other practice I mentioned? (4:44PM as I type this)

but most importantly, WHY is it different for others?? And why is it a reoccurring theme btw that others sleep while others shift? Why is there a thin barrier you have to tip-toe over between sleep and shifting, huh?

ofc, I was no lucid dreamer, nor was I an astral projector. but when I saw how reality shifting was, I decided to give it a go..! I overscripted which delayed me 2 weeks of actually stepping into attempting it and I thought that was a bad thing until a shifter, @theoshifts8 , told me that there's no such thing as over scripting, under scripting, or not scripting at all! (but for that, I still recommend y'all to script especially in dangerous realities because someone once shifted to a reality but immediately d1ed the first 2 seconds upon entering.)

I had four shifting attempts and my fourth attempt was the time I mini shifted. last night I tried again, and I mini shifted again but decided to go back on purpose. so it only took me days! but how come?? I was reading stories from other people as well and I've read about a person who taught her younger brother how to shift and he did on his first try, DESPITE BEING A CHILD!! and a girl who was a spirit medium and was told by her grandmother that passed away that shifting was real! and even on shifttok, older shifters would teach shifters how to shift and then they do on their first attempt or after a short period of time! why? like, it wasn't fair!

: : UNTIL I FIGURED OUT ONE THING : :

part 2: my advice put into storytelling.

IT WAS A W A R E N E S S. (not just for that DR because I'm not going to repeat the same advice to you repeated here already.. I mean awareness with the awareness. sounds stupid? Okay hear me out)

before I shifted, I was consuming a lot of things with the rebellion and denial that it would take time to shift.. because that made no sense! why would that be something inevitable if I'M the one shifting right?? I kept nagging myself about that, I was probably using the LOA unintentionally, but sincerely I was not accepting the idea that shifting would take years.

I read a blog which was a letter for shifters who still haven't shifted for so many years, and the key was literally just awareness. I noticed a pattern. it all was just awareness and nothing else mattered. awareness, awareness, awareness. I found it in all blog posts, but most just worded it differently! But how are you supposed to be aware of that DR? Someone left a comment on one of my posts about that too!! to that, I didn't find anything that talked about it.

And even methods!! I noticed they all just used only one thing which was to induce an absence of awareness FROM this reality but a big awareness to your DR. yes, some can including affirming and countdowns but that's just to enter meditation.. so I didn't really take those countdowns and affs seriously, all I focused on was my DR and how it felt. Apparently, THAT was the awareness. like, excuse me???

1. My first three attempts, I was aware that they weren't "failed attempts" because it was something I'm progressing on, but I kept a journal and would notice what I thought held me back. my first shifting attempt? I didn't shift because I forced myself to focus on the guided meditation and ended up taking a nap in the van! (Yes, I couldn't finish meditation in bed and we were in travel and I had nothing else to do but shift, then I slept.)

Why did I take a nap? I wanted to enter the void state and that's when your body is asleep but your mind is awake. the void state detaches all your awareness from your physical reality but my body dragged my mind to sleep with it because I didn't have any mental stimulation, but the meditation which was boring.

2. My second shifting attempt, backround noises. I stopped the meditation halfway because of those damn chickens that kept screaming outside.

but everytime I'd zone out in my room until I take a nap, how come they don't make a noise? I mean, they'd MAKE noise before I zone out but 5 seconds into dozing off, the sounds are gone. and that's before I black out into a nap before I consciously think about that. I remember recording a facetime where I was tired I was about to take a nap but then rewatching the video, THE CHICKENS WERE MAKING NOISES THE WHOLE TIME BUT I DIDN'T HEAR??? That's when I understood the "absence of awareness."

3. My third attempt. I trained myself to ignore the chickens by implementing the dozing off action.. And I'd feel symptoms like being detached from my physical senses and feel like I'm floating around. until I would think about my back and then I feel my back against my bedsheets. But what happened to the feeling of those flashing lights I was seeing? what happened to feeling like I wws moving? those symptoms lasted because I would focus on those symptoms.. apparently that wasn't allowed but I just forgot about it.. though THE MOMENT I thought of my room here, I felt my bed again and I was still. In. My. CR. I learned to visualise my DR to put my awareness there but I focused on my symptoms too much to think about my DR, but when I thought about my CR after being aware that I was shifting, I was in my CR.

I then understood awareness.

4. My fourth attempt, final, I allowed myself to doze off but stimulated my mind to thinking of my DR. And what I mean by this is visualizing, but also doing things, remembering things, I wasn't just laying in bed.. like purposely generating a dream in my DR from here. I got in. For a few seconds. I felt things. I saw things. But then came back again. Well, last night I shifted again and had another mini shift, but it was intentional this time because I was like "oh omg" and a shifter @theoshifts8 (go follow them) also told me that you should think as your DR self like "what am I going to have for breakfast?" okay.

It's all in the feeling and the awareness, NOT the method.

It's not in the breathwork, in counting, in affirming, no it's not.

it's in the awareness. and yourself. It's you. love. It's you.

[sincerelystarry]

( ☆ ) . * and i can’t get enough of you baby . . . can you get enough of me !!

f!reader x co-worker!steve harrington — steve harrington masterlist

starry’s sweets — order #011

ask : "hii can i get a medium caramel tea cake with oreo crumbles 😋” — @imsogonesposts

summary : your best friend, robin, knows you’ve had a massive crush on your co-worker, steve, since forever. so why does she keep sneaking off with him? why do they keep whispering and giggling with each other? why does it seem that she’s trying to get him first?

warnings : lots of miscommunication & misunderstanding, suggestive content, making out but no sex, allusions to sex, reader is a bit of a bitch to robin, but it’s ok she apologizes and everything’s okay! best friend robin buckley, they all work together at scoops, canon-compliant but pre-russians

word count : 2.2k

Steve Harrington is a little bit pathetic. That’s probably why you’re so head over heels for him. You started working at the Scoops Ahoy ice cream in the new Starcourt Mall with your best friend, Robin, not too long ago. You always knew of Steve’s existence, Hawkins is a small town and you all went to school together, you and Robin only being a year below Steve. You never spoke to Steve until work, though, as you hung around different circles.

Summer break and Steve now out of high school meant no more cliques, and the three of you working together meant Robin bullying Steve for his horrible luck with girls. He continuously blamed the silly sailor hat that you were all required to wear as apart of your uniforms, saying it covered his hair, which was apparently where half of the charm was. 

You thought he was cute, hat or not, and looked great in the sailor shorts. Words you’d never utter to Steve, or you’d probably quit right then and there and move out of Hawkins, but you have told Robin of your interest in Steve on days where it was just the two of you and he was no where around.

You didn’t tell her of your feelings for him out of your own volition. Your friend unfortunately has a keen eye, and spotted the amount of times you would keep staring at the way Steve would flip the ice cream scooper in his hand on a slow day or laugh a bit too hard at one of his dumb pick up lines. What she didn’t know was how you wished so badly he was using those pick up lines on you and not some girls on a shopping spree that just stopped by for some ice cream. 

What Robin would hopefully never find out, and something you would never fess up until you were dead, was how you would stare as Steve would steal a bite of ice cream when the store was desolate and it was just you and him running a shift. The way his tongue would flick out at the cold treat on a sample spoon, and how you wished that tongue was working on you instead. Thoughts that would immediately be ceased by someone coming into the store and one of you had to tend to the register.

Just as she noticed the way you would stare at Steve, the way you’d laugh at his unfunny jokes, you noticed how she started to act around him too. How he started to act around her. They were comfortable with each other, in a way that you wish you were with Steve. Robin always poking fun at him every time he failed to score with a girl or dropped his scooper on the ground or complained about the sailor hats. Steve always looking over to Robin, the two of them communicating through wild gestures and facial expressions you can’t seem to decipher.

They would sneak away, too, during shifts where all three of you were working, leaving you to man the counter yourself. Into the hallway that Steve would let the gang of middle schoolers use to sneak into the movie theater for free. You could hear them talking and laughing, and Robin would always come back beaming, Steve sometimes with a slight flush on his face. You know you shouldn’t jump to conclusions. They’re friends, it doesn’t mean anything. But they seemed so comfortable around each other. The way they seem to act as if they were dating, giggling and sneaking off. 

Robin knows of the little crush you have on Steve, why would she do this? You have to admit, she’s pretty. Any sensible guy could see that and you couldn’t blame Steve if he’s attracted to her. But her entertaining him? When she knows how you feel, how you’ve felt since the start of summer. She’s never once showed any romantic interest in Steve so why now? Is she just doing this because she doesn’t like you?

All the thoughts and worries run through your head as you ring up ice cream for a group of girls one day, culminating into anger. You’re passive aggressive to Robin throughout the shift until she finally asks, when the store is empty aside from the two of you, “What is your problem?”

“What do you mean?” you answer, stealing a sample spoon of strawberry cheesecake ice cream, sucking and chewing on the plastic even when the ice cream is gone, just to give your mouth something to do. 

“I mean how you’ve been acting these past few days?” she says, perching herself on the sill of the window separating the front of the ice cream parlor and the backroom. “Did I do something wrong? Did I upset you somehow? Because I’m sorry— you know I wouldn’t hurt you purposefully. You’re my best friend. We’ve been friends since 7th grade.”

You scoff, tossing away the spoon. “You’re sorry?” you say, giving her an incredulous look.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. But it’d also be great to know what I’m sorry for.”

You take a breath, staring at her with wide eyes. “Going on your little trysts with Steve in the middle of shifts?” you start. “Giggling and whispering to each other and hiding your fucking relationship from me like you’re Romeo and Juliet or something?”

“Woah— wait— what?” She blinks at you, looking very confused. “What do you mean our relationship.”

“Don’t fucking play dumb, Robin. It’s pretty fucking obvious, with the way both of you keep sneaking off and leaving me to deal with customers alone. The way he’s always all blushy when he’s around you!”

Robin laughs at your words, as if they were the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard. “You think Steve and I are dating?”

“Yes!”

She says your name as if trying to garner if you’re joking or not. “I don’t like men.”

“Well clearly you like at least one—” you start, thinking she’s saying it in some sort of feminist-y way. 

“No—” Robin laughs, standing and grabbing onto your shoulders. “I don’t like men. Especially not Steve.”

You stare at her for a few minutes, confused, before realization dawns on you. “You don’t… like men?” You repeat her words, getting confirmation with a nod. “Since when?”

“Since middle school,” she says.

“Why did you never tell me?” you ask her.

“I didn’t know if you’d still want to be friends.” She shrugs, grabbing two more sample spoons and handing you one with a glob of cherry vanilla on it.

“So the sneaking off? The giggles and secret hand-wavey messages?” you ask, sucking the spoon into your mouth.

Robin look at you, spoon of Reese’s swirl halfway to her mouth. “You cannot be serious.”

“What?”

“Steve is practically in love with you!” she says. “Him being all blushy around me? He’s being a tomato-faced mess around you. The hand signals and weird looks are me trying to convince him to ask you out and him being a chicken about it. We’ve been sneaking away because he’s been trying to plan this date to ask you out on and keeps needing to check in with me on what your favourite drink, or food, or dessert is!”

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, leaning back against the counter.

“Jesus Christ is right,” Robin huffs. “I’ve been watching the two of you pine for each other for the past month. Do you know how infuriating it gets when neither of you are brave enough to actually make a move? It’s like a shitty coming of age rom-com but worse because you two are my friends.”

“Wh— So what do I even do?” you ask.

Robin takes a large breath, as if refraining from slapping some sense into you. “You ask him out,” she says, rubbing at her temples. 

“Right—” you nod. “When?”

“How about right now?” She nods to a certain sailor-boy walking through the door, just in time for his shift.

Steve greets both of you, hand running through his hair as he does, and it’s only now that you notice for the first time how his eyes linger on you for a bit as he says hello.

“Go get ‘em, sailor,” Robin murmurs, giving you a light push in Steve’s direction. 

“You’re a bitch,” you hiss, but your words are full of love for your friend.

“I love you too,” she says, moving to the register.

“I’m sorry for snapping like that,” you say before you forget.

“It’s alright,” she assures you. “I get it. Now seriously, go get him.”

“Steve!” you start, wincing at how oddly high-pitched your voice goes. You cough a bit and try again. “Can we— uh— talk?” You nod to the backroom.

“Sure? Am I in trouble or something?” he jokes, taking a small spoon and stealing a bite of ice cream, tossing the plastic utensil away afterwards.

“Not quite.” You look over to Robin. “You can handle being alone up front for a bit?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She nods.

You take Steve into the back hallway, not wanting Robin to eavesdrop on your conversation.

“So what’s up?” Steve asks, almost trepidatiously. 

“Would you like you have lunch together?” you ask.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, my break isn’t for a while since I just got here—” he starts.

“No—” you cut him off. “Not on break. More like— a date?”

“Are you serious?” he asks.

“Only if you say yes,” you say. “If you say no then I’m joking.”

A wide, almost giddy, smile blooms across his face. “Yes I’ll go out with you,” he says, almost relieved at your question. He sobers up quickly though, seemingly realizing something and telling you “Shit. I owe Robin twenty bucks.”

“What?” you ask, confused. “Why?”

“She bet that you’d ask me out before I could ‘grow the balls to’,” he explains. “Her words, not mine.”

You laugh at this, almost snorting.

“It’s not funny!” he insists. “I’m going to be out twenty bucks now! And if I don’t pay up she’s going to be mean about it! She’s like a bank when it comes to betting.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, tugging Steve closer to you.

“Uh-huh.” He doesn’t seem to process your words as you end up only a few centimeters apart, his eyes flicking down to your lips before up to meet your gaze again. 

“Steve—?” you start, voice soft, but you don’t get to finish your thought before his lips meet yours in a kiss you’ve wanted to have for a month. “You taste of rocky road,” you mumble against his lips, giggling a bit as he presses you against the wall of the corridor.

“Flavor of the week,” he jokes, pulling away from the kiss, head dipping to nip and suck at your neck instead. 

“Yeah?” you laugh, hands moving to tangle in his hair, tugging lightly. “What’s next week?”

“Last week was cherry jubilee,” he mumbles against your skin. “Next week will be a surprise. You’ll have to wait and see. Find out on your own.”

“God, you’re an idiot.”

“I’m your idiot,” he says, pulling away with his lips spread into a cocky grin.

You make some noise between a scoff and a huff but pull him in for another kiss, your tongue delving into his mouth, craving the flavor of the rocky road ice cream he had earlier, craving the flavor of him. He groans into the kiss, tugging your blue and white-striped shirt from your sailor shorts, hands creeping up, his palms rough against your skin. You tug at his hair again, eliciting a higher-pitched sound from him, one that makes you laugh at how unexpected it is, coming from a guy like him. 

“Don’t laugh,” he grumbles, his grip on your waist almost bruising as he kisses down your neck once again, biting and sucking.

“What am I supposed to do then?” you ask, eyes fluttering as he starts to suck at a particularly sensitive spot.

“Pull my hair again,” he mumbles against your skin, the vibrations of his voice sending jolts down your spine.

You oblige him, tugging at his hair a bit harder this time, and Steve practically melts under your touch. 

“Christ, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he says, moving back up to your lips, hands creeping higher up your shirt.

You’re not sure when, but his shirt eventually gets untucked from his shorts too, and the light indent of your teeth can be found littered across his neck, glistening with slight traces of your saliva. You’re sure you’re not in a much better state than he is. 

You’re only interrupted by a loud knock on the door separating you from the ice cream parlor and Robin’s voice calling out, “Stop fucking back there and help me out or I’m getting both of you guys fired!” You and Steve stare at each other and laugh for a bit, Steve’s laughter ceasing and yours only growing when Robin adds, “And you owe me twenty bucks, Steve!”

The two of you hurry to the front, attempting to fix your disheveled state as the two of you tuck your shirts back in. Robin looks both of you up and down when you return to the backroom, snorting.

“Nice hair, Steve,” she comments, prompting you to turn and look at him, you and Robin bursting out in a fit of giggles in the way it’s sticking out in odd places from your earlier tugging at it.

“What— what’s wrong with it?” he asks, running his hands through it in futile attempts to fix it.

“Well— let’s just say we’re lucky our uniforms require hats,” you laugh.

a/n: i think i was possessed while writing this. like i wrote a bit of intro, stopped, wrote the part where they start kissing, and like. blacked out and woke up with over 2k written. holy shit. ook it's like 2am excuse typos goodnight

taglist 🏷️ : none yet !

[luckthebard]

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about storytelling vs. gameplay in Actual Play and finally had some solid thoughts coalesce around it when looking at Worlds Beyond Number and Thresher.

Thoughts after the cut:

This is going to be a hot take but I think, increasingly, Worlds Beyond Number is not an Actual Play but a collaborative audio novel/drama. While the margins between those things might seem on some level semantic, I think they’re really key for thinking about how Actual Play is different from other kinds of storytelling media. WBN was originally conceived of and advertised as “like the games you run in your living room” but as it has gone on the podcast has moved so far away from that that it is no longer delivering on that original conceit. This does not mean it is bad! I think WBN is actually succeeding more on a storytelling level as it sheds more of its obvious gameplay. But it’s gotten to a point where the game mechanics are either edited out and therefore not central to what is heard by the audience, or incidental to the story being told, which is driven far more by Brennan as the main worldbuilding storyteller than by game mechanics or player action. When a supposed Actual Play has a key narrative episode that finishes with almost 10 minutes of story narrated solely by the GM with no gameplay rolls or mechanics mentioned, of an epic, hugely narratively important combat, in my mind gameplay has taken enough of a backseat to the storytelling process that the podcast is no longer an Actual Play.

And I think we’ve seen an evolution over time of a lot of Actual Plays de-centering game mechanics or the conceit of gameplay in favor of more crafted narrative beats, to both the benefit and detriment of the stories themselves. In Critical Role for example, C1 and C2 in many ways felt more like a D&D game than C3, if only because of the presence of incidental, seemingly narratively insignificant combat moments. As late as late C2 with the Mighty Nein in Aeor, the players were rolling random encounters that had no relation to the larger endgame plot. This led some viewers to complain about pacing, but made other Actual Play enjoyers happy to the extent it showcased game mechanics and allowed character moments to emerge from the combat mechanics themselves, the core gameplay element of D&D. Contrast that to C3, which very early in the episode count did away with “meaningless” incidental combat and pushed forward with a very clear endgame narrative. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that fan engagement with mechanics really fell off in C3, with less meta about what spell or feat choices meant for character development. Similarly, the sunsetting of the CritRoleStats project, while certainly because founders were just busy and had put years into it already and were ready to move on, also was at least somewhat influenced by having less to work with as gameplay mechanics were emphasized less and less at the table in C3.

If you were to look at a lot of the more professional and academic study and critique of Actual Play, you might be convinced that a move away from centering gameplay and above table mechanics discussions was universally good for the medium, as an emphasis on storytelling over gaming would make it more universally accessible. I would posit though that at least some of this comes from the loudest, most professionally credentialed commentators on Actual Play coming from literature backgrounds, and therefore valuing storytelling and narrative over gaming for audience appeal. But I think that misses the gaming audience of Actual Play, who are less and less catered to as the medium becomes more mainstream.

There’s often not a lot of understanding of the appeal of gaming itself as an object of, especially curative, fan obsession, even as sports fandom exists as a huge example of the wide appeal. I am, pretty loudly, a baseball fan as well as a ttrpg and Actual Play fan. In many ways, these things hold similar appeal to me. I am interested in thinking about the game mechanics and action economy of certain character builds and how they fit into party composition in the same way I might obsess over a pitcher’s ERA and arsenal, as well as what his role is in the starting pitcher rotation or the bullpen. I find the prospect of a matchup between, say, Shohei Ohtani and Zack Wheeler appealing in the same way I’m excited about a mechanically strong D&D party fighting a Beholder. Gaming has long been interesting to people not only as something to participate in, but something to study and analyze. Win scenarios, optimal builds, and gameplay tactics are engaging to viewers as well as players. And I think, increasingly, Actual Play productions either forget this or, if the prevalence of editing gameplay out of edited AP is any indication, do not think the gameplay itself is of value or interest to the audience. Published Actual Play scholarship, in my opinion, continues to make this mistake as well. This has led to an increase of productions which are labeled as Actual Play and ostensibly have a gameplay component but are so far removed from watching/listening to people play a game that it is hard to argue that they are still Actual Play.

Which brings me to Thresher. Thresher was brilliant at threading that needle between production, radio drama vibes, and centered and narratively driving gameplay. I am someone who often complains about Actual Play production and editing doing Too Much but I actually loved the costumes and some of the editing gimmicks on Thresher because all of the storytelling and narrative was still so clearly grounded in the gameplay mechanics. Uses of drive mechanics and character abilities were clearly defined even as the audience could hold their breath in a tense horror atmosphere. Mechanics like Turn the Tide and Jasper’s move as the GM to allow the players to pass him secret notes were fantastic ideas to center player choice in crafting the narrative, and let the players surprise each other, leading to big and exciting moments a the table. The storytelling was enhanced by Abubakar’s above table exclamation of “what the fuck is this??” at the end, because it wasn’t just about the story that had unfolded but that his fellow players had surprised both him and the GM by using their game mechanic options to change the direction of the narrative and the condition of the story. I would love for more Actual Play to remember the value of the audience seeing that or being in on the extra-narrative elements of gameplay that shape story. Not all Actual Play needs to be the same, but I think we’ve lost something in the medium as a whole recently with a shift away from visible mechanics and toward streamlined, almost audio drama style story that just happens to have scaffolding from a tabletop roleplaying game.

[harmonysanreads]

Idk if you saw but Phainon apparently has a hobby in appraising antiques. Just imagine if for his partner he fondly refers to them as his greatest or most priceless treasure. Though on the other hand, it certainly gives "dragon coveting its hoard" kinda vibes. Possibly romantic depending on who you ask, but it speaks volumes of how much he cherishes them.

Yup I've seen his shenanigans regarding this and I must thank you because, I feel like this is a great opportunity to discuss how possessive Phainon can be.

The idea seems contradictory to what Aglaea and Tribbie have told us about him — he's selfless, willingly takes on more burden than he should and pushes himself constantly to meet that image of a ‘perfect vessel’ in order to protect Amphoreus. The term possessiveness should be absolutely unthinkable to be put in the same sentence as his name. Such a noble hero couldn't possibly be... selfish, right?

Phainon himself battles with these doubts, well, it would be more precise to say that he's the one who thinks about it the most out of anyone living in Amphoreus.

The first time he notices the evidences of that particular behavior, it has to be pointed out by someone ; you, one of his comrades or just a random person. Phainon relies on external validation to a degree, his sense of self can be altered through a strong enough comment on his personality.

The process of it developing isn't different from how it would be for anyone ; an attachment to you is secured, outside influences threaten it, he realizes a need to be in your presence more, becomes annoyed when your attention is stolen until it reaches to a point where he's actively trying to maintain it on himself alone. But the thing is, he's so swept up in all the emotions of being in love that he doesn't stop to process them all for quite some time. That's why an external call out is required.

Perhaps it would've been best if no one pointed it out to begin with, because now he's simmering in guilt and shame in his head. The Chrysos Heir is notably rigid for some time, mulling over his every action and word until he's caught in analysis paralysis. Because even if he'd like to convince himself that he's nonchalant, he cares about how you perceive him, a lot.

At the same time as this inner turmoil almost frying him, there is no notable change in his paranoia — if anything, it gets worse. The more he tries to test distance and respect for your personal time and space, the more his anxiety worsens, suddenly devoid of a medium to soothe it with. Two greeting texts increases to ten, phone calls are no longer enough, he needs to see that you're okay and safe.

At one point, a sinister thought somehow plants itself in his mind. He's lost so much ; his home, his family, his friends, his peace and his identity. But he continues sacrificing more, he continues giving up things for the sake of others, for a future marked by uncertainty. Now that there is someone who makes him happy, who he finds solace in, who he genuinely loves... he's demanded again to ‘tone it down’ when all he wants is to spend time with them? Is that not unfair to him?

And well, he brushes it off quickly — not that it completely goes away. These ideas only really torment him when he's not with you, which is another reason why separation will have a physical effect on him if it is extended to a point. Which direction all these inner conflicts and overthinking will take him towards, depends on him alone.

As for the ‘evidences’ mentioned previously, they're so him that it's honestly difficult to tell whether he's being driven by something less than innocent. He usually tends to whine and sulk to prolong your presence, gives you the doe eyes and kicked puppy look. There is also the matter with texts and calls as mentioned previously. He responds to your texts very quickly and tries to keep conversations going for as long as possible, low-key spirals if you're taking too long to respond and insists on hearing your voice, unless you tell him strongly that you aren't comfortable with it.

Is not afraid of showing physical affection in public, likes holding hands and/or linking arms with you at all times. Uses his height to his advantage as well, as in, serving as your personal shield — whether you want it or not. He doesn't really lash out at people, unless of course, they were rude to you. Given his naturally amicable personality, most people don't try to do something outrageous in front of him either. His jealousy is kind of obvious as well and since he tends to use the ‘kicked puppy method’ frequently, it can be difficult to take it seriously, to be honest. Make sure to not let your guard down though.

As for the matter of him calling you his treasure, I personally like to think that he sees his darling as above him, above everyone actually. Treasure implies towards something that was acquired and typically has a material value. Phainon is out there thanking fate and every holy being everyday for blessing him with someone like you, he struggles to even answer the question of ‘what he likes most about you’ (it's everything). He might say it out of affection in the spur of a moment once, but in his heart, your worth exceeds the notion of treasures.

[taylorswiftstyle]

Chiefs vs Bills | Kansas City, MO | January 26, 2025

Louis Vuitton 'Monogram Jacquard Knit Jacket' - $5,000.00 Louis Vuitton 'LV Spark Beanie' - $550.00 Steven Battelle 'Ancient Coin Necklace' - price varies Louis Vuitton 'Trunk Chain Wallet' - $2,850.00 Louis Vuitton 'Le Damier de Louis Vuitton Small Ring' - $3,950.00 Louis Vuitton 'Le Damier de Louis Vuitton Medium Bracelet' - $18,500.00 Cartier 'Panthère de Cartier Medium Watch Diamond' - $32,200.00 Louis Vuitton 'LV Medallion Gloves' - $495.00 Calzedonia '50 Denier Tights in Dark Red' - $15.00 Louis Vuitton 'Star Trail Ankle Boot' - $1,760.00

More monogram. Taylor appeared at the AFC Championship game wearing a literal head to toe look (mostly) by Louis Vuitton. Proving that sometimes it does have to be Louis V up in KC.

What I Learned From Those Two Years: Prior to the game I had wondered if last year’s championship outfit might be a playbook (pun intended) for today’s look - knowing that comparisons were bound to happen. I can see the similarities year over year in the oversized top, pleated mini skirt, tights, and boots combination. On the skirt, I’ve been told this is not the same skirt as last year, with thanks to the LV team for the confirmation, and is a slightly older one within the LV catalogue. However, it feels like a close enough of a callback to make the choice seem intentional. Perhaps a way of nodding to superstitions in sport with repeating “lucky” items to bring forth an optimal outcome. Whatever the reason, let’s say that it worked because the Chiefs defeated the Bills 32-29 and are - once again - headed to the Super Bowl.   

When We First Met (Gala): But even without the other LV elements of this look, I clocked these boots right away. Why? Because Taylor has a pair of Star Trail boots that she has worn on two other occasions. The first was the night before the 2016 Met Gala. The second was while out to dinner with Travis in October 2023. After a lot of staring, I can confirm this pair of ‘Star Trails’ are an updated version - discernible by the slightly different finish and the cap toe detail being absent. One of Taylor’s style pillars has always been repetition, so I’ll give half points here given it’s a style we know she has in her closet and has repeated in the past. I can imagine this fresh pair from a later collection was meant to coordinate with the rest of the recent LV pulls. 

Louis V up in KC: When it came to accessories, Louis Vuitton jewelry and bag felt like natural fits. However, knowing that Taylor has a LV watch in her collection that would have coordinated well with her head to toe (literal) branded ensemble feels noteworthy to me. The accessory that felt like it had the most story behind it was her necklace. Taylor has worn a number of vintage coin necklaces recently, including at a few Chiefs games. What immediately came to my mind was her 2024 season opener outfit which was also styled with a vintage, ancient bronze coin necklace. I imagine that something about it feels like embodying a fighting / warrior mindset to fit in with the “go fight win” of sports and the Gladiator ethos. Or else perhaps even a chic reference to a game day coin toss. I spoke with the designer, Steven, who confirmed that the face depicted on the coin, struck in 109-108BC during the Roman Republic, is the goddess Roma. Steven said, “[Roma] was believed to watch over the city’s citizens and protect them from harm, as well as being a fierce defender of Rome in war.” Steven said the necklace took approximately 1.5 days to create by Balinese goldsmith artisans with traditional handmaking techniqes. “The pendant was designed to highlight the coin and accent it in a classical manner,” he said. From an intentional styling perspective, there’s a lot of thought that goes into creating a cohesive and consistent storyline where every look “speaks” to one another to create a progression, but is distinct enough to stand as its own moment. Small callbacks like this (and the skirt - more on that later) demonstrate that thought well. I look forward to doing a full breakdown of this season’s looks (particularly in comparison to 2023-24’s season) when the final whistle blows. This artist uses real ancient coins in their work so every single piece is unique and different. Pictured above is what appears, to my eye, to be a close match to Taylor’s. 

Photo by Jamie Squire via Getty Images

[yuurei20]

how muscle is the boy and who the most buff because i think silver gym clothes is lying

Hello hello! Thank you so much for this question! I have been hoping to talk about this for so long ⚔️

There is something special about the school uniform and gym clothes cards 👀

Summary 1) Sprites do not always visually represent what is actually happening in the game 2) Yana does not have full control over what can appear as sprites 3) Yana illustrated the gym clothes and school uniform cards from start to finish by herself!

Details/Sources 1) There is sometimes a disconnect between what the sprites are doing and what is actually happening in the stories, as the limits of the medium mean that they can only portray so much.

We will be told via dialogue that what is actually happening is different from what we're seeing on screen, which is where the "novel" part of "visual novel" has to do some heavy lifting.

(above: We are told that Idia is riding Ortho, Jack has tanned and Kalim is wearing glasses, without anything represented visually.)

This is also true of Silver being unusually well-muscled, with characters referencing such repeatedly! (especially in Book 7, for spoiler-reasons that cannot be shared on this blog)

(Ortho: "Silver is also incredibly built!")

In a vignette Silver explains he was able to beat a man in an arm-wrestling contest who had successfully beaten several "burly" members of Savanaclaw:

"All of Ruggie's burly friends had tried, but each lost within seconds. At first the owner went easy on me. Worried he would hurt me, he said. But once he realized I was no pushover, he stopped holding back...It was no easy feat, but all their encouragement helped me eke out a victory."

As for how Silver can possibly be so well-muscled, he explains it is from life with Lilia:

"I've never really struggled with anything involving physical fitness...my daily life back home was training enough. Drawing river water, chopping firewood...Chasing around the animals who lived nearby must have helped strengthen my legs as well...once I stalled while climbing a sheer cliff, and (Lilia) climbed right up beside me to show me how it should be done."

2) In a tweet posted on 2020/5/12 Yana talks about submitting her idea for Crowley to be wearing a vacation outfit in Book 4, despite expecting it to be rejected.

So it seems that she does not have complete control over how the sprites look: she designs the characters but is maybe not doing the game development work of physically implementing them, and there are others who can approve of or reject her ideas based on in-game limitations.

Was a canon-accurate Silver sprite maybe one of those rejections?

Effort was even made to give Silver muscle in the 2nd anniversary PV, so it does seem to be an important point.

3) We do not know too many details about the team that is helping Yana with card illustrations but we know they have been there from the beginning, with the recently released English-version of the first visual book (called "The official art book" in English) providing translations of Yana's notes to the colorists for the ceremonial robes and labwear art.

(Above: hand-written notes seen on Kalim's labwear and ceremonial robes base art)

She also references a graphic artist in her 2020 interview for the Magical Archives:

"As for the illustrations, this was my first time having my original drawings cleaned up by a graphic artist. I am a very rough draftsman by nature, and I make overall corrections before a piece is complete. No matter how careful I am in my original drawings, sometimes details get confused, so whenever I receive a draft back from the graphic artist, I become a useless original artist who is constantly going back to say, ‘I am so sorry, but can you please make these corrections?’" - Toboso Yana (Magical Archives game guide)

But the gym clothes and school uniforms (the original batch of R cards) were different: Yana says she did them all by herself from start to finish, as they were going to be most people's first introductions to the characters.

Disney Twisted-Wonderland has been released today.  ・Character design ・Main scenario creation ・Card illustration (all rarities / including finishing for the R cards) ・Supervision of personal scenarios (writing several as well) I handled everything above. I hope you enjoy it! - Toboso Yana (Twitter, 2020/5/8)

I felt that the initial R school uniforms and sportswear cards are special, as they are likely to be the first introductions to these characters, so I was in charge of them all. I am grateful to have been trusted with them. - Toboso Yana (Twitter, 2020/4/13)

So there we are! 🥳

If anything we can maybe consider the base card art for the gym clothes and school uniforms as more "canon" than the sprite designs of those same characters, even though the sprites are what we're used to seeing, as card art is not being forced to change the characters' appearances in order to fit the limitations of Live 2D sprites ⚔️ Maybe!

(The sprites have this same issue with height! In the game Epel is made taller while Malleus is made shorter, in order to fit his horns in the screen.)

[octahyde]

Ok actually one thing that really really bothers me about how widespread people are negatively reacting to the anime just for the fact that anime onlys are going to be in the fandom is like

This is going to make TWST so much more accessible

Like… not everyone can sit down for several hours and read a visual novel. It’s very time and focus intensive. Not everyone can read logs of the dialogue on wikis, either. There are several people who are unable to enjoy this story based solely on medium. A good example is my qpp; he loves TWST. He loves the story. He loves the characters. But he can’t get past Book 3 because the format is completely inaccessible to him. He’s tried. I’ve tried with him. He just… cannot do it. The novels are a godsend because it’s a way he can finally read the story in a format that works for him. The anime will also help a lot because he’ll be able to hear the voice acting, which is a very important part of TWST’s story telling.

Or even just in general, I don’t think I need to post about how I Like Horror, but I am unable to read anything longer than a short story. In particular, I am almost fully unable to read King because of how incompatible his writing style is- despite really wanting to. I have tried and failed to read Pet Sematery more times than I can count. The 80’s movie, though? I love it. It lets me experience a very important work to the genre in ways I would otherwise be completely unable to. Same with Misery.

Like… it’s super frustrating to see people advocate for story accessibility in things like video games, only to turn around and say “except for things I LIKE, they’ll get my favs wrong!!!” Especially when it’s in a fairly inaccessible medium.

I especially have a bone to pick with Idia fans I see on Twitter doing this. There’s a lot of fear “normies” will be ableist about their favorite cartoon character, while… in the process being extremely ableist to actual human beings. It’s extremely frustrating and upsetting to see people prioritize their (heavily mentally disabled, I might add) favorite fictional character over actual irl disabled people. I don’t think people, especially autistic people who can’t do VNs, should be limited from a beautiful story just because other people you can block Might Make Incel Jokes.

(My qpp? He’s autistic. And schizophrenic. And has CPTSD. He relates a LOT to Idia just from what I’ve told him about her and her arc.)

Like… get your fucking priorities straight. I was hyperfixated on Danganronpa when the DR1 anime came out. I was hyperfixated on Persona 4 when the P4 anime came out. Ace Attorney has been one of my absolute favorite series since middle school, and I was going through my obligatory hyperfixation phase I have every few years when the AA anime came out. I massively prefer the YuGiOh manga to the DM anime.

Anime onlys are EXTREMELY easy to avoid and are not the fucking end of the world.

Especially in a fandom with so many autistic people. Have some empathy for disabled people who have different symptoms than you do.

[feminist-space]

"Artists have finally had enough with Meta’s predatory AI policies, but Meta’s loss is Cara’s gain. An artist-run, anti-AI social platform, Cara has grown from 40,000 to 650,000 users within the last week, catapulting it to the top of the App Store charts.

Instagram is a necessity for many artists, who use the platform to promote their work and solicit paying clients. But Meta is using public posts to train its generative AI systems, and only European users can opt out, since they’re protected by GDPR laws. Generative AI has become so front-and-center on Meta’s apps that artists reached their breaking point.

“When you put [AI] so much in their face, and then give them the option to opt out, but then increase the friction to opt out… I think that increases their anger level — like, okay now I’ve really had enough,” Jingna Zhang, a renowned photographer and founder of Cara, told TechCrunch.

Cara, which has both a web and mobile app, is like a combination of Instagram and X, but built specifically for artists. On your profile, you can host a portfolio of work, but you can also post updates to your feed like any other microblogging site.

Zhang is perfectly positioned to helm an artist-centric social network, where they can post without the risk of becoming part of a training dataset for AI. Zhang has fought on behalf of artists, recently winning an appeal in a Luxembourg court over a painter who copied one of her photographs, which she shot for Harper’s Bazaar Vietnam.

“Using a different medium was irrelevant. My work being ‘available online’ was irrelevant. Consent was necessary,” Zhang wrote on X.

Zhang and three other artists are also suing Google for allegedly using their copyrighted work to train Imagen, an AI image generator. She’s also a plaintiff in a similar lawsuit against Stability AI, Midjourney, DeviantArt and Runway AI.

“Words can’t describe how dehumanizing it is to see my name used 20,000+ times in MidJourney,” she wrote in an Instagram post. “My life’s work and who I am—reduced to meaningless fodder for a commercial image slot machine.”

Artists are so resistant to AI because the training data behind many of these image generators includes their work without their consent. These models amass such a large swath of artwork by scraping the internet for images, without regard for whether or not those images are copyrighted. It’s a slap in the face for artists – not only are their jobs endangered by AI, but that same AI is often powered by their work.

“When it comes to art, unfortunately, we just come from a fundamentally different perspective and point of view, because on the tech side, you have this strong history of open source, and people are just thinking like, well, you put it out there, so it’s for people to use,” Zhang said. “For artists, it’s a part of our selves and our identity. I would not want my best friend to make a manipulation of my work without asking me. There’s a nuance to how we see things, but I don’t think people understand that the art we do is not a product.”

This commitment to protecting artists from copyright infringement extends to Cara, which partners with the University of Chicago’s Glaze project. By using Glaze, artists who manually apply Glaze to their work on Cara have an added layer of protection against being scraped for AI.

Other projects have also stepped up to defend artists. Spawning AI, an artist-led company, has created an API that allows artists to remove their work from popular datasets. But that opt-out only works if the companies that use those datasets honor artists’ requests. So far, HuggingFace and Stability have agreed to respect Spawning’s Do Not Train registry, but artists’ work cannot be retroactively removed from models that have already been trained.

“I think there is this clash between backgrounds and expectations on what we put on the internet,” Zhang said. “For artists, we want to share our work with the world. We put it online, and we don’t charge people to view this piece of work, but it doesn’t mean that we give up our copyright, or any ownership of our work.”"

Read the rest of the article here:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/06/06/a-social-app-for-creatives-cara-grew-from-40k-to-650k-users-in-a-week-because-artists-are-fed-up-with-metas-ai-policies/

[burst-of-iridescent]

well since i can already tell that we’re all going to be subjected to the same old tired mai & mai.ko discourse for the foreseeable future, let’s get it clear right now that the atla comics have never been, and will never be acceptable mediums of character development, and here’s why:

1. the comics are given the benefit of hindsight, which impairs organic character growth.

it’s become extremely clear over the last few years that many of the comics are made as, or include, direct responses to criticisms of the original show — especially when it comes to katara, mai, and the canon pairings. aang didn’t ask katara for consent? look, he’s checking if he can kiss her! mai doesn’t care about fire nation imperialism? here, she’s an anti fascist! iroh was a creep to june? don’t worry, here he is apologising!

many of the things the characters do or say in the comics feel unnatural because they are not written as characters, but as mouthpieces for the creators to address fandom complaints from the original show.

“but that’s good, right? they’re trying to make it better!” i mean… sure? it still doesn’t change the fact that it’s damage control, and that no matter what stories span the middle, the arcs of these characters still begin and end with avatar: the last airbender, and the legend of korra, both of which are fixed and immutable. the comics cannot retroactively fix the issues of either show, because they’ve already been defined as the goalposts of the characters’ lives, and there is no way to undo that.

it’s like if you eat a meal that isn’t to your satisfaction, and maybe the chief makes you another dish, which is all well and good — but it doesn’t fix the fact that the original meal still sucked! sometimes, accepting criticism means accepting that there’s no way to go back and fix it but to do better next time, with the next story you wish to tell.

if the legend of korra didn’t exist, and the arcs of the characters were left open after atla, then maybe there would be for the room for the comics to function as character development if not for the fact that…

2. the comics are intended for a very different audience than the show.

it’s obvious that the audience for the original show vastly outnumbers the audience for the comics, likely by thousands, if not millions. this isn’t the mcu, where the installation of any atla property is vital to understanding the next, and so on. you can skip the comics and miss nothing whatsoever (and honestly your life would be far improved by doing so).

those who read the comics are likely only the real diehard fans of the show — and the creators know this, which is why we have the whole issue of point one above. but this difference in audience matters, because it reflects the significance of the story being told, and how important it is for the audience to know it. this is why, if the characters’ development and storylines in the comics truly, genuinely mattered, it would have been in the show already.

i’m not saying that the gaang wouldn’t have continued to grow and change post-atla, but generally stories exist as closed circuits, self-contained within themselves. when you end atla, you’re meant to believe that those arcs are finished. that’s the whole reason the comics deal mostly with fun silly adventures, or with quick, temporary conflicts instead of grand, overarching narratives, because they are not truly meant to function as a continuation of the story of atla, or its characters.

(if you ask me frankly, they’re meant to be nostalgia cash grabs, but that’s neither here nor there.)

creator intention matters with the atla comics (or any atla property, in fact), because creator intention was the subject of criticism for the original show in the first place. why must we rely on the comics or the cookbook or avatar legends to tell us that katara did things with her life outside of aang? why do we need to turn to something released nearly two decades after atla to find any evidence that mai denounced the fire nation’s imperialist indoctrination, when she’s romantically involved with one of the show’s most important characters? why are these stories relegated to a medium with far less reach, far too late?

the answer is that the writers didn’t find those stories to be originally worth telling, and that is the real problem fans have been pointing out since 2008.

so, tldr:

[rekino2114]

Makima and Nayuta setting up a Father’s Day surprise for Y/n! (Sorry for making it late again) Maybe Y/n had a long, tiring week, and ever since her Mother’s Day surprise Makima had memorized the date of Father’s Day and wanted to recruit her daughter to make the perfect surprise for Y/n since she knew he was having a tiring week (not a bad week, I don’t think Makima would ever let Y/n have a bad week, so just a tiring one. Like lots of patrols and devil fights, lots of paperwork, and it just left him drained, so drained that he forgot about Father’s Day.) What would Makima do for the day that celebrates her darling? What would Nayuta do for the day that celebrates her father? Maybe Nayuta would train Fenrir to hold up a Father’s Day sign! And hey, look I made more art! Featuring Nayuta once again not understanding the difference between Fathers Day and her dads birthday! Again, sorry if the art sucks, I redid it kinda short notice to include Fenrir. And sorry I didn’t know that Father’s Day was earlier for you. Also kudos to golem543 who made that awesome Nayuta adopting the wolf devil request, and kudos to you for making it phenomenally! I’m going to feature Fenrir in the art for this request and I have some other requests that might possibly feature him, but if the user who came up with the concept doesn’t want me to use them in my request then I won’t.

Have a great week, hope your doing well!

Celebrating Father's day with makima and nayuta

Pairing:makima x male reader

A/n:Happy father's day to everyone who celebrates today (which funnily enough doesn't include me) but I hope you all enjoy this and thanks so much for another amazing request and drawing

"You're working late again?"

"Yeah, sorry, I have a lot of paperwork to do, so I won't be home for a couple of hours, I guess it's my fault for taking so many missions though hehe"

"Darling, are you sure you can do it? You could just have someone do the paperwork, just tell them I said that"

"Oh no it's alright, I'd feel bad if I made someone else do my work, I'm sorry that I'm leaving you and nayuta alone again"

"No, I don't mind that, I'm just worried about you, you've been working so hard lately"

"I know and I'm sorry, I'll take a break when I need to"

".......alright darling, just make sure not to be too late"

"Of course, I'll be back for dinner i'm sure of that, I love you"

"I love you too"

Makima hung up the call and sighed a bit, thinking about how much of a busy week this had been for you, but then smiled as that was even more of a reason why you needed to be rewarded and celebrated

She got up from the couch and went to nayuta's room, where she found her playing with fenrir. Once she saw her mother, nayuta raised her head and looked at her

"Is daddy back?"

"No sorry, but he said he's going to stay at work late"

"Again? Is he ever gonna come home!? He didn't even pick me up from school today........like the rest of the week"

Feeling bad for her daughter makima got closer to her and started petting her head

"I know, sweetie, but don't worry, he told me he'll come back in time for dinner, plus that gives us more time to work on our little surprise, right?"

Hearing that nayuta gasped and got up, all of her previous disappointment had disappeared replaced by hype and determination

"Oh yeah yeah! Look what I did for daddy's day!"

She went over to her backpack and looked inside only to pull out a really cute drawing of the entire family hugging you in the middle of a heart with happy father's day written above of it that she showed to makima

"Awww it looks so cute, it's similar to the one you made for me"

"Yeah!"

".......you even made the same mistake as last time"

Nayuta blushed and defensively held the drawing close to her chest

"I-it's very common......and I figured it out earlier this time"

"Calm down, I was just joking, well I'm sure your dad will love it just like I loved mine"

"And-and look I did this too!"

She pulled out from her backpack a medium-sized banner that she had hand painted herself with the words "happy father's day, daddy!" Written on it

"Oh that's amazing, do you want to hang that up?"

"No I got a better idea look!"

She went over to fenrir, and the dog/devil opened his mouth as soon as he saw the banner, which nayuta then put in his mouth, causing him to hold it up and looking really cute while doing so, his tail wagging happily

"Aww that's even cuter, you've trained him so well"

"Obviously fenrir is the bestest boy ever"

Nayuta had already started petting and playing with him while she said that

"Alright then, I'll start making dinner, you can play a bit more but make sure everything is ready by the time dad gets home ok?"

"Of course mommy! Daddy is gonna have the best birthday ever!"

"..........it's still not his birthday"

"O-oh yeah, I mean father's day, t-that's what I wanted to say from the start"

".....of course sweetie"

[Timeskip brought to you by chibi nayuta playing fetch with fenrir]

In the hours that followed, makima and nayuta spent the time they had left setting up the house for the party. Makima made dinner consisting of all of your favorite dishes, and she even baked a cake for you just as you had done for mother's day

Meanwhile, nayuta continued to train fenrir to hold up the sign and play with him in front of the door, waiting for you to show up. And a few hours later, you did

The moment you started to open the door, nayuta panicked a bit before she quickly put the sign in fenrir's mouth again and put her hands up as soon as she saw you

"Happy father's day daddy!"

You were taken aback by the scene you found when you entered your house, especially by the fact that your dog was happily panting and holding up a sign with exactly what your daughter said written on it but quickly smiled warmly at it

"Oh thank you yuta, I wasn't expecting that"

She quickly ran over to hug you and you did the same while petting fenrir with your other hand

"Here! This is for the best daddy ever!"

She suddenly handed you the drawing she made and you held it tight before ruffling your daughter's hair proudly

"It's amazing, thank you so much"

Nayuta smiled and hugged you again this time even tighter, it was adorable and warm at the same time, you could feel all the love your daughter held for you in that hug

When you pulled back she went over to the couch and pet fenrir praising him for the good job he did

You smiled again and opened your eyes to see makima in front of you this time

"Happy father's day darling"

"O-oh thank you too"

She hugged you too and quickly but passionately kissed your lips, just like before with nayuta all that warm love filled your heart complety and it felt even better

When your wife broke the kiss she held your hand and started guiding you through the living room

"Come here y/n, I have something special for you"

"Oh? I can't wait to see what it is"

When you arrived at the kitchen, you smiled brightly, seeing all the food placed on the table. You recognized all of the dishes. They were your favorite, and you were pretty sure you hadn't even told makima what some of them were, but somehow almost every food you loved was there. Makima had even baked you your favorite type of cake and was placed in the middle of the table

"Thank you so much, you really didn't have to"

"I disagree, you've been working so hard lately plus today celebrates you so this is the least I could do. Also don't think this is your last gift"

As she said that last sentence her voice dropped to a sultry tone that made you blush but still smile

The entire family had dinner together and it was wonderful, you laughed and have fun together while eating, it was a while that you didn't have a family dinner together because of your late arrivals so that was exactly what you needed

After dinner, you all watched a movie. That was something you did basically every night, but you could feel there was something special about tonight

"Here daddy"

You saw nayuta handing you the remote with her small hands

"You choose the movie tonight! It's your day!"

"Oh thank you"

"I agree with her, I want to see your favorite movie too, I'm sure I'll love it too"

You smiled at both of them and grabbed the remote, putting on your personal favorite movie

After the movie was over, you put nayuta to bed, who wished you happy Father's Day one last time as she started drifting off. When you were fully certain she was asleep, you went over to yours and makima's room to find her laying on the bed

"Is nayuta asleep?"

"Yes"

"Good"

You approached makima as she started kissing you passionately. Once the kiss was over, she took a moment to look deeply into your eyes and speak

"Darling, you are such an amazing husband and an amazing father, I know I say this often but......thank you for being in my life, everything is so much easier and better with you around"

"Thank you too, I'm here because I love you, I really really do makima, you're the love of my life and I want to stay forever with you"

Hearing those sweet words, makima pulled you into another deep kiss however she broke this one even faster than the previous one

"However today is about you, and I want you to feel properly loved and celebrated"

She moved one of her hands away from your neck and used it to take off her shirt, revealing her red lacy bra as she winked at you and spoke seductively

"Come take your other gift darling~"

You kissed her again and you threw each other on the bed beginning a night of special passion

[betelgeuses-wife]

Beetlejuice x fem reader [slight hurt/then comfort fix]

Reader is an adult with a job, living in the beetlejuice house. Fine for 16+ but bear in mind the POV of character for this fic.

-----

Notes: written for fem reader. Fem pet names.

Type: oneshot

Genre: hurt/comfort

Length: short/medium? Idk word count

Warnings: not sure if any are needed. Some suggestive comments on Bee's part.

Barely proofread.

Do not steal my work or copy and post anywhere else.

-------

The clock was still chiming as you walked in the door to the house, the bird popped in and out of the clock but the sequence had ended a moment later as you ditched your shoes and bag by the door for a later, more tired you that would remember it right before bed. The house was depressingly quiet, not like you had expected any different. It was just you after all. Well...you and one annoying ghost.

The aged wallpaper seemed greyer than usual and it only provoked your want to rip it off and put up a new pattern. You loved the house and how it was originally decorated but it was in need of some T.L.C. which was something you had the money for but not the time. Your frame slouched as you shuffled over to the couch and sat down on the edge, you knew why it was quiet.

After an argument yesterday about Bee always being around and in your space, especially when you had friends round or the odd date, you had selfishly made him disappear. You had been so frustrated that you said his name three times just to get him off your back but now you felt guilty. It was something that had plagued your mind all day. Nagging at you. You took a breath and rubbed your face, sighing before you spoke quietly to yourself.

"I'm such an ass. He was an ass first. But...still."

You didn't know if you should summon him, to do so would only to be for your own gain. To get some form of comfort. Because you had no one else. Not right now. You would be selfish to. You knew that. So you sat there alone, flicking the TV on though you barely watched it. You couldn't help but think about what Bee had told you over the last couple of years. How he married and it didn't work out. How he helped the couple who lived here before and was let down. And he had helped you. Albeit for a deal. But you had kept up your end of the deal until yesterday. And even still, without asking or without expecting anything he had helped you out with much more than you deserved. He kept an eye on you. Made sure you were taken care of when you got home even though he would act like he wasn't doing it for you and it was just out of boredom.

And you had sent him away. All because, what? You didn't like that he called out the new friends you made who said things they shouldn't have? Because the dates you brought home did something that made you uncomfortable? Did you really get annoyed with him because he looked out for you and you were too stubborn to realise it?

How could you summon him for your own comfort after that? You couldn't. It would be an asshole move. You knew that. So you sat in your own pathetic guilt for the evening. You heated up a meal you had made and frozen earlier in the week, it was a lousy meal without your usual dining experience. The reruns of shows didn't seem as funny as they usually did either. You sighed heavily and tried to power through your dinner but suddenly you didn't feel hungry anymore. The day was was feeling heavier by the minute and you contemplated just having a shower and going to bed.

You forced yourself from your spot on the couch and threw the rest of your meal away before placing your dirty dishes in the sink. You'd do that later. Tomorrow. You didn't really have the energy to care in that moment.

You convinced yourself that maybe getting an early night would be best. Then you'd have a longer weekend if you didn't sleep in. You were lying to yourself that you'd get a good night's sleep. You put your shoes away on the rack and lazily placed your bags up against the wall. It was good enough to not be a trip hazard later at least. It felt like you were dragging your body up the stairs but your mind was elsewhere, the pesky thoughts of how lonely it must be for Bee. He was probably up in the tiny model graveyard. That's where he had been before.

Sure, Bee had said some nasty things too yesterday. A slur of names. Theoretical accusations too. But you had still sent him back to where ever he had been before. You could've just gone to bed or the bathroom. Out of respect he kept out of those places unless, for whatever reason, you called for him while there. You had other options and you still picked to say his name three times. What a dick move.

Those thoughts swam in circles in your mind as you wandered into your bedroom, your dazed mind barely able to figure out your next move. You showered and pulled on your worn shirt that had transitioned from outerwear to comfy bed top which was paired with a pair of shorts from a set but you had lost the shirt to it years ago. A strange combination that was quite normal for you now.

You climbed into bed, the sheets were fresh as you had fallen asleep on the couch yesterday, a strangely nice surprise that you welcomed. Freshly clean, comfy clothes, you should've felt content and ready for sleep and yet you stared out the window numbly. You laid there, waiting for sleep set in, waiting for your eyes to grow tired but it seemed your mind was far too determined for that. You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment.

"Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice." And you waited.

And waited some more.

But there was just silence.

You opened your eyes and still the room was empty. Until you looked over at the door frame where the pale man in a striped suit was leaning. His eyes on his hands as he picked at his nails before crossing him arms. He looked less than pleased.

"Well, thank ya for lettin' me out, toots. Nice t'know ya need me." His words were anything but sweet this time. The sarcastic poison dripped from his words. The tone just made you sink back into bed without a retort unlike you usually would.

"I'm sorry I sent you away. I shouldn't of. You can have free reign of the house. I'm getting an early night anyway..." Your voice was quiet. Defeated. Bee seemed to notice and instead of his usual mocking manner, he moved around to the empty side of the bed and sat down.

"Doll, ya really think bein' put in time out for a day is gunna do much t'me? I'm a ghost! A day's nothin'." You watched as he exclaimed and moved to get comfortable on the bed; sat up against the pillows and the headboard, his legs crossed at the ankles.

"I don't know...I promised I wouldn't. I made a deal and I broke it. Like the people here did before...I thought you'd hate me." You hated the whole 'woe is me' confession but it still needed to be said.

You heard a snort and glanced up to see Bee looking out the window before shifting his eyes onto you.

"Hate ya? C'mon. Ya think I could hate ya for that? Annoyed? Sure. Ready t'make the rest of ya life a livin' hell? Definitely. But it'd take more than that t'make me hate you, sweetcheeks"

You sighed and shifted under the blankets, you felt a little relieved but still also felt bad for what you did.

"Do you think..." Your words trailed off.

"Do I think what, Toots?"

"Do you think you could stay here tonight? Just until I fall asleep anyway..."

"Oh? You're invitin' me to sleep with ya?" You watched as his annoying smirk grew.

"Bee. Fine. Get out. I'll sleep by myself." You stated as you turned away from the man. Your back now facing him.

"Hey- hey- hey-! I'll behave. I promise! I'll just lay 'ere. Like a statue! See!" You heard his voice desperately pipe up.

"Put some pyjamas on then. No shoes on the bed." You mumbled as you rolled back over onto your other side, watching as Beetlejuice got up and change into striped pyjamas with a cloud of smoke. He did a little show of jazz hands for added affect.

"Ta-da-! How'd I look? Sleek? Sexy? Seducing?" His words drawn out while he posed for each word.

"Just get in the damn bed, Bee. Before I change my mind." Rolling your eyes at the theatrics.

You watched as he scrambled to get under the covers and shifted closer to you. And closer still until you stopped him.

"Don't push your luck, Juice." Your words earned a groan. You closed your eyes and tried to settle, laying in silence for a while. You knew he was just pretending to sleep so you'd feel comfortable. You peeked up and scooted closer until you were nearly against his chest. Perhaps this was too close. You tried to back away but you found Bee's arm over your waist.

"Don't try t'run away now, Sweets." His voice was low and gravelly but he still spoke in a softer voice than usual.

You huffed a little but didn't move away again. You didn't speak for a moment. You just laid silently, eyes on Bee's chest though you were lost in thought.

"Work got the better of ya today"

"I never said that."

"Ya don't have'ta"

"Great. Glad to know you can tell I hate my job."

"I can tell ya tired, Dollface. Its'all I meant"

His words were strangely comforting. He was trying at least.

"Stop tryna be s'tough and lemme help ya"

He was right. Usually after a bad day you'd cling to him and watch some stupid show. But now you were in bed. A place he wasn't ever allowed before. This felt...different.

You sighed and snuggled up to him like you usually would on the couch, you felt his arms tighten around you before one moved up to the back of your head, his fingers gently running through your hair.

"I'll be 'ere, Doll. I ain't got anywhere else t'go anyway. Or maybe we could get things heated up if ya cold-"

"Beetlejuice."

"Alright- just layin' here. Like a statue."

You soon started to drift off to his familiar touch. His arm holding you close and his fingers massaging your scalp, it lulled you into a deep sleep. It had you questioning whether you should invite Bee to bed more often.

[novvabee]

The Boys in the Band

AN: I got carried away with this one, but here is the second part to the band au

word count: 2.8k

cw: language? there is nothing really bad about this one.

Since your first show, you had been quite busy. You had opened for a couple bands at The Common Room, you booked a few nights at the popular club, The Hog’s Head, and managed to snag a spot in another festival. You had become popular very quickly amongst the girls, gays, theys, and young people in the city. Each gig you noted more and more fans, crowds growing, singing so loud and dancing so hard. 

This is what you always dreamed of, performing and making people happy. You lived for the drama and theatrics of it all, dressing up on stage and singing your heart out. The girls felt the same electricity, the same passion as you. That made your bond as a group that much stronger.

Not to mention, you were all good friends. Lily had mentioned to you that she and Mary had been messing around and found out they actually sounded really good together. Then they asked Marlene if she would play drums, which she said yes to in a heartbeat. And then Lily realized they needed a front woman, someone who could sing and bring the most energy. She thought of you, your bold and fierce attitude, your flirty and fun personality. And that is how you started.

The four of you wrote all the music you performed; the fun and girly songs by Mary, the campy over-the-top songs about women by Marlene, the sad and slow ballads by yourself, and the thought provoking and experimental ones by Lily.

Mary had the upbeat, girly, pop songs down. Her personality just flowed with inspiration for them, so those were the types of songs that you mostly sang and performed. You weren’t complaining, her songs were half the fun.

Marlene was full of something you all liked to tease her about; lesbian angst. But all that angst made for great songs to perform and were usually the crowd favorites.

Lily was slightly different, she was full of thoughts and ideas about the world, and her medium to get them out of her brain and into the world, was through music and lyrics. She wrote a lot of songs for women, for rights for all and for political change. If you had to pick, you would say hers were by far your favorites. She didn’t write often, but when she did, she had a message, something to say. You loved that about her.

Your songs were all ballads and sad. The girls teased you about that too, saying you shouldn’t let a man make you cry. It wasn’t exactly your fault, you had just gotten out of a long term relationship, and were drawing inspiration from all the confusing, mixed feelings that came with that. 

You had been dating this boy, Matthew, for about a year and a half, but everything seemed to take a turn for the worse a couple months ago. Your once sweet and charming boyfriend had turned into this cold, vacant man right in front of you. You two argued all the time, about small things as well as very important, serious things. He started accusing you of sneaking around, hiding things from him, cheating on him. None of it was true, and you tried to tell him that, but he wouldn’t listen to reason.

So you had enough. You told him that if you two couldn’t work things out, you didn’t know if you could continue on. He said nothing, just agreed with you. He didn’t try to mend the broken relationship, didn't try to fight either for you or with you. You would’ve taken either, but he just walked away.

As much as you tell yourself you’re doing so much better, that you have moved on and don’t care about him anymore, that isn’t exactly true.

You leaned into the band to distract yourself, putting everything you had in it so that you wouldn’t be left with those feelings. You’re just glad you had your friends, your girls who not only could help you through it, but also help you see this band through. They ignited you.

You felt that way even just sitting on the floor of Mary’s apartment. The space was cute and cozy. You girls were sprawled out over fluffy rugs, a plush couch, and two oversized bean bags. 

Mary was nodding her head along to a beat that only she could hear, writing down what you could only guess were new lyrics. Lily was strumming a tune she had been working on for over a week. You and Marlene were talking about what to wear for your upcoming show. 

“I think you'd look good in that pink leotard with the matching cowgirl boots.” Marlene recommended.

“The pink tassels or the pink heart?” you asked.

She thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “The tassels, that way you can wear the boots and maybe a cowboy hat,” she paused looking at the other two, “maybe we can try out Pink Pony?”

Excited, you clapped your hands together. You had been dying to perform this new song in front of a crowd and this was the perfect opportunity. You were playing at The Common Room again, but this time it was only you. Unlike every other performance you had, this time there were no openers, and no one else after you. You got a whole set for yourselves and the whole night to perform and party with fans.

The night was going to be nothing short of magical.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

James followed Remus and Sirius into the stage door of The Common Room.

All three boys wanted to come and see the performance that The Pixies were giving tonight. They had gained a lot of traction recently, seemingly overnight.

James didn’t feel at all jealous or threatened, they were doing just as well themselves, and they made entirely different music. He was more curious as to the fact that this band came out of nowhere.

The Marauders were used to competition revolving around the music world. They had been doing this for a while now, they understood the fight to fill spots and book sets. This band was just another contender now.

James was more frequently used to The Snakes stealing their gigs or spots in festivals, but now even they were pushed aside for this new band. The Snakes was led by Sirius’s little brother Regulus, another person on the list James hadn’t spoken to in a while. James knew that Regulus was a grudge holder, hell, he was related to Sirius, so he shouldn’t be surprised that Regulus cut all contact.

He fucked up, he knew he did. But he still wasn’t ready to think about it.

Slipping through the crowd and continuing to follow as best he could, all three boys ended up in the back of the already packed room. 

“Holy shit,” Sirius began, “there are so many people. How much were tickets?” He asked Remus.

Remus answered with a head shake. “Don’t know, Lily told me to come in through the back door so we wouldn’t have to pay.”

James’s stomach sunk, maybe he shouldn’t have come. Lily didn’t even invite him, he just tagged along with Remus. But, she had to have known that would happen, right? The boys didn’t do anything or go anywhere without each other.

“Oh my god! Hi,” came a voice from a girl to his right. “You’re The Marauders right? I love you guys. I’ve been to, like, a bunch of shows.” James recognized this girl. She was always front row or close enough, always giving Sirius a look that showed she wanted to fuck him, or at least become a groupie. “Could I get a pic?” she asked.

Sirius smirked. “Course you can sweetheart.” he said while she handed her phone to someone she was with. She stood between Remus and Sirius for the photo, then thanked the boys, obviously wanting the interaction to continue. 

James did not. He would look like such an asshole taking pictures with fans at Lily’s show.

The thought was cut short when the house lights dimmed and the stage turned a hazy pink color. James lost every thought in his head when you came out on stage.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Walking out onto the stage, you were met by a wall of sound, cheers and screams. Your nerves and butterflies instantly fluttered away. This is where you were meant to be, up here on this stage, in front of a crowd, making music. You had dreamed of this since you were a little girl.

You pranced yourself out in a cowboy hat and high heel boots, a matching sparkly and intricately tasseled leotard to top it all off. Your ass may be out, but that was the fun of it, the aesthetic. Especially for the new song you had prepared for the night. 

“Hello my friends.” you said, the cheers and screams somehow getting even louder. “We are The Pixies,” you introduced, “and we are here to give you the night of your life.”

You looked around the crowd to see so many faces enhanced with intricate and beautiful makeup looks, so many fans copying looks from your previous performances, so many bodies in bright colors. So many people who felt confident in what they were wearing and how they looked. 

“We’re gonna start off with a new one if that’s ok with you.” You announced you got an astounding amount of cheers, noting many phones launch into the air to record this new one. “This song is a fun one but more importantly,” you paused, the whole crowd hanging on your breath, “it is about what my mother thinks I am doing with my life. Here is Pink Pony Club!”

The girls started playing the intro and you walked to the front of the stage, sitting down, legs dangling off.

I know you wanted me to stay

But I can't ignore the crazy visions of me in LA

And I heard that there's a special place

Where boys and girls can all be queens every single day

You stood, walking back to center stage.

I'm having wicked dreams of leaving Tennessee

Hear Santa Monica, I swear it's calling me

Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene

She sees her baby girl, I know she's gonna scream

You whipped around to the audience

God, what have you done?

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

You started dancing and jumping around stage, Lily and Mary joining you, smiles plastered on their faces

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

The audience had settled into the performance, had gotten into the groove of the song, and joined in the dancing and the fun.

I'm up and jaws are on the floor

Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door

Blacklights and a mirrored disco ball

Every night's another reason why I left it all

I thank my wicked dreams a year from Tennessee

Oh, Santa Monica, you've been too good to me

Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene

She sees her baby girl, I know she's gonna scream

God, what have you done?

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

The crowd was going crazy, right along with you, until you slowed down and the girls played quieter for the bridge.

Don't think I've left you all behind

Still love you and Tennessee

You're always on my mind

And mama, every Saturday

I can hear your southern drawl a thousand miles away, saying

God, what have you done?

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

You jumped up and danced like crazy, the crowd joining in, loving this new song. Some picked up on the lyrics and were singing them back to you, the feeling indescribable.

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing

I'm gonna keep on dancing

You kept dancing as Lily and Mary played the outro, out of breath and so happy. Once the song was finished, the whole building was filled with cheering. You looked to Mary, then over to Lily, they looked just as ecstatic, you could imagine Marlene felt the same. 

“Thank you, thank you!” you said into the mic. “Well, if you like that Common Room, we’re just getting started.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

James had never seen a concert, a band like yours. There was no way to describe it, you were just, stars already. 

The rest of the concert was filled with just as much fun, joy as the first song. The dancing and singing and laughing was indescribable. 

The boys waited after the concert, waited until the last of the fans trickled out, then they made their way backstage. Walking down the halls and to the dressing room that had a piece of paper with the word “Pixies” in bold letters, Remus knocked on the door. 

The giggling and sounds of excitement were radiating from the room, loudly even with the door shut.

They waited for a moment before the door pulled open, revealing Mary. The smile dropped from her face for a moment before she put another one in its place, this one though, was more of an uncomfortable grimace more than anything. “Hey! I didn’t know you guys were here.” Mary said, opening the door to let the boys slide through. She hugged each of them on their way in.

James made eye contact with Lily who was on the couch with Marlene. She didn’t break away. He quickly looked over to Marlene and smiled. “We wanted to come and say great show!” he said, directed at them all, but not being able to look away from Marlene, who just smirked, knowing the situation and that James was incredibly uncomfortable right now.

“Thanks.” Marlene replied smoothly. 

Sirius noted the tension and decided to break it. “Where is she?” he asked.

All eyes went to him as Mary asked “Y/N?”

He looked at her and rolled his eyes, “No, the queen.” he said sarcastically.

“Are you going to try to sleep with her?” Mary asked, not holding back.

“What, no!” Sirius denied as if it wasn’t exactly something Sirius would do. “I just want to meet her. ‘Know thy enemy’ and all that.”

Lily scoffed. “She’ll be out in a minute, I think she's taking off her makeup.”

And as if right on que, you waltzed right out of the connected bathroom and into the dressing room. Smiling, you looked at the boys standing across from the couch. 

“Here she is!” Mary ushered you over, chipper and still energized from the performance. “This is Y/N, Y/N these are the boys in The Marauders.”

Your smile grew. “The Marauders? You guys were amazing at the festival.”

Sirius smiled back at you, charming as ever. “‘I'm Sirius.” you looked to the next boy, who was glancing at a fuming Lily.

“Uh, I’m James.” He smiled, seeming to come back to reality and out of whatever thought he was lost in. 

You looked at the final boy, tall and leaning against the wall. “And you’re Remus, right?” you asked.

He nodded. “Yeah we met a while back, lovely to see you again.”

“Lovely to see you! And it is lovely to finally meet you two.” you said to the newly acquainted Sirius and James, they nodded and smiled politely. There was a noticeable tension between everyone in the room, was there really that much of a rivalry?

“I think the boys were just heading out,” Mary said to the three boys standing in front of her. “Isn't that right?”

Sirius huffed and led the other two out throwing a “See you all soon.” over his shoulder as Mary escorted and followed them out into the hallway, shutting the door beyond her.

“That was… strange.” you said to Lily and Marlene. They just looked at each other and laughed, rolling their eyes. You didn’t understand.

“They're idiots.” Marlene supplied.

“They're boys.” Lily corrected.

Taglist 💌:  @adharalikethestar @mayuwolfstar @ieatboysalive @maraudereestauderelb @bugg06 @slytherinambitious (yell at me if I forgot anyone)

[sincerelystarry]

( ☆ ) . * i like shiny things . . . but i’d marry you with paper rings !!

f!covey!reader x sejanus plinth — sejanus plinth masterlist

starry's sweets — order #003

ask : “heyy could I have a medium lavender cake with rainbow sprinkles? ^.^” — anon

summary : lucy gray may have been a victor, a songbird, star of the show, but to sejanus, you were everything. since the first time he saw you on that stage with the rest of the covey, providing backing vocals for lucy gray and playing your various instruments, he knew he wanted to marry you. 

warnings : suggestiveness throughout but no smut, sexually charged fruit eating, THIS  IS CUTE THIS IS ALL HAPPY I FUCKING PROMMY

word count : 2.7k

You’re glowing. You’re fucking glowing on stage and you know it. You were never the star, but you’ve always been okay with being a literal second fiddle to Clerk Carmine, okay with being the harmony to Lucy Gray’s melody. You’re just glad your little family is together again after the Games, that Lucy Gray had returned home.

You strum your banjo, you have a little competition with CC on your fiddles (he’s crowned victorious, determined by how loud the crowd would cheer for each of you), you sing and stomp and twirl around with your tambourine. And then you see him. A Peacekeeper in the crowd of District 12 citizens. He’s standing with his little groups of other Peacekeepers, brown hair shorn close to his head and large puppy-dog eyes that watch you in awe. All his friends are staring at Lucy Gray, of course they would. She’s beautiful, talented, your best friend. But he’s only looking at you.

You swish your skirts and blow him a kiss, winking and earning hollers from the Peacekeepers who clap him on the back as he averts his gaze, blushing madly. Shows have always been special, they’ve always been electric, on stage with your pseudo-family, getting a chance to perform for all of District 12. But knowing he’s watching you makes you feel like you’re flying. Not Lucy Gray, not Barb Azure, but you. 

After the show, as the crowd starts to disperse, you search for him. Lucy Gray warned you to not mess with the Capitol boys, but you insisted you’d be safe, so she let you go. You find him easily, still with some of the other Peacekeepers. As you approach, they nudge him and shove him around, clearly teasing him over you. 

Before you could get to him, one of the other Peacekeepers approach you first. The one that stood closest to him, with white-blond hair, who asks you, “Where’s Lucy Gray?” You recognize him—Coriolanus Snow, Lucy Gray’s mentor.

You point him in her direction. “Thank you for bringing her home,” you say. He largely ignores your thanks, moving to where you told him Lucy Gray was. 

“Sorry about him,” the boy who was staring at you says. “He’s pretty much got a one track mind. I’m Sejanus.” He holds out a hand for you to shake, to which you instead bring your hand up in front of his face, palm down and fingers dropped, looking at him expectantly. Sejanus laughs, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss over your knuckles.

You smile when he gets it, not many people do, and introduce yourself as you re-fluff your skirts and straighten the ribbon that’s holding your corset closed. 

“You were wonderful up there,” he says. “I didn’t know one person could play so many instruments.”

“There’s not much else to do,” you shrug, laughing. “I’m too shoddy of a dancer, so singing and strumming’s all I’ve got going for me.”

“I’m sure you can’t be as bad as me,” he tells you. “I’ve got two left feet. You were jumping around up there and spinning so much I was getting dizzy. And you did it in heels.”

“Jumping and spinning are two very different things than dancing, Sejanus.”

“I suppose so,” he cedes. “You are a good singer, though. Lucy Gray is good, but I think your voice really brings the whole thing together.”

“I think you’re sucking up,” you say.

“Maybe. But maybe it’s just because I want you to say yes when I ask you to lunch tomorrow.”

“Is that allowed?” you ask. “I don’t think I’m even supposed to be talking to you right now.”

“Maybe not, but what are they going to do? Make me a Peacekeeper?” He grins at you and you almost melt.

“They could move you to another District,” you point out.

“You’re worth the risk.”

You’re about to respond when Maude Ivory calls your name. “I live in the Seam. Find me some time if you can and maybe I’ll go to lunch with you, Sejanus.”

“Is that a challenge or a promise?”

“Both,” is all you say before you turn to rejoin the Covey, your skirts swishing as you walk off, Sejanus gaze following you until you’re out of sight. 

 ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ 

He does in fact find you nearly a week later, laying under your favourite tree in the Meadow, your back against the grass as you stared up into the clouds, searching for shapes, the sun blinding your eyes. The light is blocked by Sejanus’ head as he stands over you, looking down with an amused smile on his lips. 

“Found you,” he says, sitting down besides you, his back leaning against the trunk of the magnolia. 

You sit up to look at him properly, straightening out the skirt of your dress and fixing the little ribbon belt around your waist, making sure the bow is symmetrical. “Gonna take me out to lunch now, Sejanus?” you ask.

“Where would I take you?” he asks. “The Hob’s not the most romantic place in the world. No, I’ve got something else.” He lifts up a small basket, setting it between the two of you and opening it. “Not the most luxurious things in the world but I tried my best.”

You pull out a few loaves of pumpkin bread, a rind of some sort of goat cheese, some fresh strawberries, a small glass bottle of lemonade, and a foil-wrapped bar of chocolate. “This is more luxury than I’ve ever had in my entire life,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “You Capitol boys really don’t know how lucky you are, do you?”

“Some of us do.”

“Are you in this ‘some of us?’” you ask, tearing off a piece of bread. 

“I’d like to think so. I know I’m luckier than most people. I wasn’t always Capitol,” he tells you.

“No?” you question between bites of food.

“No. Granted, I was still pretty lucky. District 2. President Ravinstill liked my dad so much that we became Capitolites when the war ended.”

“Huh,” is all you say in response, taking a strawberry and holding it out to him.

You expect him to take it with his hands and laughs when he eats it straight from your fingers, maintaining eye contact with you as he does so, a little flutter happening in your stomach. Is this what Barb Azure told you she felt when she met that girl down the road? 

You clear your throat a bit and avert your gaze, taking out the lemonade and taking a sip, handing it over to Sejanus afterwards. 

“Is something wrong?” he asks, accepting the bottle.

“No, no, nothing’s wrong,” you assure him, shooting him a smile before looking back up to the sky, continuing to tear off bits of the pumpkin bread to eat.

“What are you looking at?” he asks.

“The clouds. That one looks like a rabbit,” you say, pointing upwards.

He steals some of your bread, trading it for some of the cheese. “I don’t see it.”

“Come on, look, the head’s right there, and the long parts are the ears. And there’s the fat body,” you take his hand in yours to help him point it out. His hand is warm, calloused, most likely from gun training. The feeling of his skin against yours sends shivers down your spine, despite the summer heat. 

He laughs at your attempts, taking another strawberry from the basket, holding it out to you this time. “I still don’t see it.”

“Are you blind?” you tease him, turning your head to face him. You eat it from his fingers in the same fashion he did to you, some of the juice dribbing from your lips as you smile at him. You reach for a napkin in the basket but you’re too slow, Sejanus wiping the strawberry juice from your bottom lip with his thumb before sucking the sticky sweetness from his finger. 

You force yourself to look away from him again, much to his confusion, but neither of you say anything about the way you avoid his gaze. You’re surprised he doesn’t notice how incredibly red you’ve gotten, doesn’t notice the way you use the bread and cheese to hide your blushing smiles every time he compliments you on something or other.

When most of the bread and cheese is gone—you decided to save some for the rest of the Covey, knowing Maude Ivory would probably appreciate it—and the strawberries were finished, you move to unwrap the bar of milk chocolate. 

“How did you even get this? They don’t sell chocolate at the sweets shop,” you ask, breaking the small bar in half, the chocolate partially melted and soft due to sitting in the sun while the two of you ate. “And if they did, it would be expensive, wouldn’t it?”

“My Ma,” he explains, accepting his half of the candy. “She keeps sending me these little care packages of things she’s gotten from the Capitol. I wrote to her, telling her I met a pretty girl here that would probably like some chocolate. She sent some over as quick as she could.”

“You called me pretty to your Ma?” you tease as you let the chocolate melt on your tongue so you could savor the sweetness.

“I’d call you pretty to anyone,” he says, taking a bite out of his own chunk.

“You’re a suck up, Sejanus, you know that?”

“Only for you.”

“The Covey and I are going to the lake in a few days. I think Lucy Gray is bringing that Coriolanus with her. Would you like to be my plus one?” you offer.

“I think I’d like that a lot.”

 ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ 

During the lake trip, you and Sejanus had run off to pick some blackberries to bring back to eat and sell. As you harvest the fruits, the two of you occasionally popping a few into your mouths, staining your lips and fingers a pinkish-purple, you say to Sejanus, “I know you’re in cahoots with Billy Taupe.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, turning to face you, dropping another handful of berries into your basket.

“Just because I’m pretty doesn’t mean I’m not smart, Sejanus,” you say. “Look, we’ve hardly known each other for a week, I’ll admit that, but Billy Taupe is bad news. And not just because we all hate him for what he did to Lucy Gray. I don’t like the Capitol and the Games as much as the next person, but I don’t want to see you getting killed. Watching Lucy Gray in those games was bad enough, she’s like a sister to me. I couldn’t bear to see you hanging from that foul tree.”

“What do you want me to do, then? We can’t let this go on forever.”

“I want you to survive, Sejanus,” you say. “You’ll be done Peacekeeping eventually, you’ll return back to your mansion in the Capitol, won’t you? You’ll be safe there. You can break them down from the inside out.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?” you ask. “I’m eighteen. I’ll be out of the Reaping by next year. They can’t touch me.” It’s a lame lie, both to him and yourself. No matter how old you are, as long as the games exist, you’re not safe. 

“And what if I want to stay?”

“Why would you ever want that?”

He doesn’t respond, only smiles and steals a blackberry from the basket, holding it up to your lips. You take it in your mouth, teeth nipping at the tips of his fingers.

“Just— stop messing around with Billy Taupe. That’s a one way ticket to being six feet underground,” you warn him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I will,” he promises. “I’ll stop.”

 ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍ 

Sejanus keeps his promise. He stops working with Billy Taupe, avoids the violence of Billy Taupe’s and Mayfair’s deaths. The unavoidable, uncontrollable parts of your life, such as the disappearance of Lucy Gray, he comforts you through. Even when Coriolanus returns to the Capitol at the end of the month, Sejanus stays with you. He gives you comfort in the form of kisses; on your lips, against your neck, down your chest and stomach.

Years pass. Games are held and victors are crowned and Sejanus has been unofficially disowned by his father at this point, though his mother still writes, sending him care packages of chocolates and baked goods. But the two of you are as happy as you can be together.

You’re happiest when, three years after the two of you had met, Sejanus takes you to the same magnolia tree in the Meadow the two of you had your first date. As he takes a small brass band from his pocket, inlaid with some sparkling stone, he asks you to marry him. You recognize it as Tam Amber’s handiwork and kiss Sejanus with a smile as you accept his proposal.

The wedding is small and quick. The two of you and the rest of the Covey run out to the lake in the dead of night, the ceremony lit by candles as the two of you say quiet vows under the stars. Music had been banned from the Hob when the new Head Peacekeeper took over, but this doesn’t stop you and the Covey from playing music in the little afterparty that occurs. It’s not perfect, not the same without Lucy Gray, but you sing and play and dance like she would’ve wanted you to do.

You and Sejanus twirl each other around in the grass, tripping over each other’s feet and your own. Your wedding cake is a small thing bought from the bakery in the town square. A little dry, but the frosting is sweet, some of it getting on your face as Sejanus taps the tip of your nose with a piece of the cake before feeding it into your mouth. 

You don’t have much of a wedding night, a honeymoon is completely out of the picture, but the two of you escape to the Meadow under the moon and stars to spend your nights under that magnolia tree. 

On the night of your wedding, early in the morning, well past midnight but before the sun would begin to rise and after the trek back to District 12 had been made, you and Sejanus lay under the stars, tangled up in each other.

“You see that real bright star?” you ask, taking his hand to point at it.

“Yeah,” he answers, voice soft. “Does it make some sort of shape I won’t be able to recognize?”

You laugh at his jab to himself. “No. It’s a planet. They call her Venus, the planet of love.”

“Who’s they?”

“Tam Amber. Some of the other Covey. The people in the old books we’ve still got hidden away,” you prattle off. 

“You think that’s our planet?” Sejanus asks, mostly joking.

“Yeah,” you say, completely genuine. “Yeah, I think she is.”

He kisses you unexpectedly, this kiss unlike any others you’ve shared in the past few years. It’s desperate, wanting, hungry. His teeth clash with yours as his tongue pushes past your lips, his hands grasping at your skirts, pulling them up as he ends up on top of you.

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice strained, as if he was holding back from something.

“I love you, too,” you respond easily, sitting up, hand moving up to cup his face. “What’s this all about?”

“You’re my wife now,” he says. “I get to kiss you like this. I get to touch you like this.” He has a death-grip on your thigh.

“You’ve touched me before,” you point out.

“I know,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your jaw, then down your neck. “But this is different. You’re my wife now. I’m your husband. I’m your fucking husband.” He says it as if he can’t believe he’s married to you.

“I’m just some Covey girl from District 12,” you argue.

“No, no,” he shakes his head as he murmurs your name against your skin. “No, you’re not just some Covey girl. You’re my everything, honey. You’re my Venus.”

“You’re talking nonsense.”

“I don’t care,” he says, pushing you back so you’re lying flat on the grass again. He’s hovering over you, supported by his forearms. “You’re my Venus, honey. You’re my love, my stars, my everything. And I get to be your fucking husband.”

“I love you, Sejanus.”

“I love you, too,” he kisses you deeply. “I love you so damn much.”

a/n: your girl locked the fuck in hellooooo two fics in one day and this one is SO CLOSE to 3k

taglist 🏷️ : none yet !

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

Hey can you write a story about Joel meeting a meeting in Jackson and she admits that she is a medium and try to communicate with Sarah ? Thanks ❤️❤️

a/n : thank you for this message. only today did i manage to reach the part of my brain that was able to handle this story. not sure if you expected this, but i wrote it this way. thank you for being here with me. ❤️

warnings : angst, medium and ghosts (but not quite), some tears, story has an open ending

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a gift. l Joel Miller

The moment your gaze met Joel Miller's, you already knew. You knew that kind of look and it was always directed your way. A mixture of fear, disbelief, but also hope. Hope for another chance.

"Fuck..." you hissed quietly under your breath and quickly crossed the street to disappear into the small crowd of people leaving the Tipsy Bison.

You knew who Joel was. You knew Tommy because you had lived in Jackson for a while. The city was nice, quiet and safe. But even there you couldn't hide your curse. Or maybe a gift? Some called it a gift, others would be ready to burn you at the stake. All you had to do was ask the right people.

You didn't want fame, but people liked to talk. You helped a few of them and in the hope that they were doing something good, they told others about it and... That's how Joel Miller must have found out about you.

Of course, he knocked on your door a few days later. You sat quietly pretending you weren't home and he left after a few minutes of standing on the doormat.

But Jackson wasn't big enough for you to avoid him all the time. It was evening, the sun had already set and you were walking back to your house, shoving your hands into your pockets because it was quite chilly. He appeared in front of you so suddenly that you almost bumped into him.

"I'm sorry, I..." you looked up and saw those kinds of eyes again, "Joel."

He frowned as if wondering how you knew his name. You didn't want to give him any more thoughts. "Tommy told me." You explained quickly.

"Right." He nodded, "You are?"

You gave him your name, another nod. You could see he was confused, tense. They were all always like that when they came to you. They were ashamed as if you were offering love for money and they were going to take advantage of it for the first time.

"I heard..." Joel began uncertainly, his voice was pleasant and low, if not for this situation you might have wanted to listen to him longer.

"I won't help you." you said before he could finish. "I know what you heard, it's bullshit."

"If I heard it from one person I would probably think the same." he muttered "There were more. You helped many people."

You looked down. "I disappointed many too. Which group do you want to belong to?"

Someone passed you and you both fell silent for a moment not wanting your conversation to be overheard. Joel moved closer to you.

"I... I lost someone." he said.

"Everyone has lost someone, Joel. And I'm not the phone that will connect you to them."

His eyes widened. "So you really... Are you a medium or something?"

You rolled your eyes. "It doesn't work like that... It's more complicated. I don't have time..."

You tried to get past him, but a strong hand grabbed your arm.

"Can you help me? I want... I want to know. Please."

You knew you were making a mistake. You should have been more assertive, but that look. That look always made your heart melt. “Come over tomorrow night. You know where I live.”

"So how does it work? Do you have some kind of board with letters or something?"

"I sacrifice some animals. You didn't bring any with you?" you mumbled, sitting down on the couch. Joel sat down opposite you and looked around the interior.

He must have expected something different. Maybe some spiderwebs, cats, glass balls, things like that. Meanwhile, he was sitting in a living room not much different from his own, and you didn't look like a witch from the fairy tales he remembered from his childhood.

"Disappointed?" you asked, taking a sip of tea. "We changed our style, because after Salem we were too conspicuous."

He narrowed his eyes as if wondering if you were joking or serious. Finally, however, he cleared his throat and asked. "How does it work? What do you even do?"

"It's hard to say..." you sighed. "I don't summon spirits, if that's what you want to ask. I just... See and feel them. Sometimes those who have passed away stick to the living and..."

"Stick?" Joel repeated, surprised.

"Yeah, you could call it that." You nodded. "I help the living then, help them leave, come to terms with what's bothering them. Sometimes it concerns the living and the one who's already gone."

"Stevenson told me that..."

"His father didn't have time to say goodbye to him. They broke up in great anger, and then all this happened." You finished for him.

"And Mrs. Smith?"

"Her son died some time ago. He was young."

"Bronson?"

"His wife died tragically when they were on their way to Jackson. He was left with two kids."

Joel nodded. It seemed to him that he understood, but even more questions were circling in his head. Embarrassment and shame filled him, because he didn't know what to expect and what to think about it. He had seen many movies about the mediums, but they were rather poor productions. Now, a pretty woman was sitting in front of him, you didn't fit in with what he remembered.

"What do you want from me, Joel?" you asked, wanting to make this already awkward situation easier for him. "Because you want something, right? That's why you came to me."

He fixed his eyes on his hands, trying to choose the right words, he cleared his throat. "When this all started, I lost someone very close to me... Someone who was the most important in my life. It was my daughter, Sarah."

You shifted a little nervously, he noticed it out of the corner of his eye. However, he took a deep breath and continued.

"I was wondering if you... Could you contact her? Jesus, that sounds so irrational." Joel snorted "But if you could..."

"Joel..." your voice was calm and quiet, almost soothing "I told you from the beginning, I'm not a phone to the afterlife. If someone left, but really left, then I can't..."

"But try! She was so young. I still feel like she's with me, that she's right next to me. I dream about her every night."

You felt like something was squeezing your heart tightly. There was so much pain and suffering in this man that you could feel it in yourself. But he wasn't an exception. Every resident of Jackson carried wounds that wouldn't heal.

"You loved her, didn't you?" you asked quietly.

"More than life." Joel replied "She held me together. Sometimes I felt like she was the one taking care of me. She was so beautiful..."

"What about her mother?"

Joel grimaced. "She left when Sarah was still little. We were very young, you know. I was the one taking care of her. While my mother was alive, she helped us too. And Tommy."

"It must have been a happy home. You gave her a lot of love." Joel was about to open his mouth, but you continued, "Sometimes our love is gestures, deeds, our service to others. She must have felt very loved."

Beautiful brown eyes filled with tears. This strong man sat in front of you completely broken, and you were digging into his open heart like a surgeon during an operation. A cold shiver ran down your spine.

"Can you tell me more about her?"

And Joel told you a lot about Sarah. He spoke calmly about what she liked, how she laughed, what she was like when she was a child, what they did together on weekends. Sometimes he smiled, sometimes you had the impression that a hurricane was lurking beneath the surface of peace. But he spoke, and his warm voice carried through the room.

After a few minutes he took a deep breath and looked at you hopefully. "So you'll help me?"

You lowered your head and shook it. "No, I can't. I'm sorry, Joel, but I don't see her with you. She..."

"But I feel her!" he interrupted you abruptly, and you bit your lip. "I feel her every day! I told you!"

"It's because you really loved her, and she loved you. Those we love don't really leave, they stay in our hearts and..."

"Bullshit!" he roared, getting up from the couch and looking at you angrily. "Sarah was still young! She didn't deserve what happened to her! I should have protected her and..."

"She was more ready to leave than you or me. She didn't stay here, she just went further..."

"Where?!" he asked as if he wanted you to show him on the map where to look for her.

"I don't know. What do you believe in, Joel? Heaven? The Elysian Fields? I don't know what to call it, but it's definitely a better place than here."

He stared at you with anger and irritation. He felt cheated, you knew that. Many people reacted the same way when you told them they wouldn't get what they came for from you.

"Joel..." you began, trying to keep your voice calm. "I know you wanted to talk to Sarah and you were counting on me to make it easier for you. But I can't do that. She's moved on and you should accept that, because it's the best option for her. Souls shouldn't stay here. It only happens if they're not ready to leave, if they're scared or have some unfinished business. You're the one who doesn't want to let her go, Joel, you're the one who's not ready." 

You didn't finish. In an instant, Joel left your house, slamming the door so hard that the windows rattled. Only then did you let the tears flow down your cheeks.

Joel wasn't ready to hear what you told him. Not many people were able to accept that you couldn't help them. Although in reality you helped, you always did. Sometimes you just helped them understand and accept. And they needed time.

You saw Joel around town, although he treated you like air. It was okay, you could live with it. But you still felt that he was suffering. And then one day you passed him on the street, you saw him from a distance, something told you not to cross to the other side like you always did. 

And when you were level with each other you saw him nod. A gentle nod that must have been a greeting, and something changed in his gaze. There was no more anger in him, no more resentment towards himself. He seemed somehow...lighter to you.

"We'll meet again, Joel Miller." You thought, and you knew that you were right.