#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*

[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:

[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)

[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

-------

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.

[kissitbttr]

I SEE YOU (FIRST TIME IS A CHARM)

a/n: a simple first date of frat!miguel and cheerleader!reader after the party

warnings; tiny angst but then turned to comfort<3

—

miguel sometimes think it would be good if he occasionally pinches himself in the arm. or glen could do it if he wanted to since he’s got quite a grip. enough to make sure he’s not living the dream.

for example, finally scoring a chance to take you out after months of pining on you? not getting rejected by his long time crush?! scratch pinching, somebody slap the dog shit out of him and tell him that this is real,

he had texted beck prior the date that he needed his right hand man to keep tabs on everything at the party. and being the good best friend that he is, beck congratulated him for finally having the balls to actually do it,

beck: so i guess that means we don’t have to hear about you moaning her name again during sleep?

miguel: shut the fuck up, kingsley. do as what you’re told.

beck: aye aye buddy

“so uh.. are you hungry? we could grab something to eat if you want to” he asked you while looking over to the passengers seat

“starving, actually” you replied with a giggle, and he felt his heart skip a beat at the sound. “got any recommendations, o’hara?”

but for a guy who knows his ways around women, he sure is nervous when it comes to you. and fuck, he cursed himself for being like this. he wanted to look cool in front of you, not stupid. what is wrong with him?!

“well we can have something off the diner on 13th street. that’s twenty minutes from campus, though. sushi stop, i know one where they serve the best sashimi. and kebab food truck but i don’t think you-“

“a kebab?!” a gasp fell from your mouth, eyes widening at the sound of middle eastern delicacy. “yes. no doubt. i want it. let’s punch it!”

he swore he’s not the type who falls in love quickly. but the way your eyes twinkle in excitement when he mentioned about kebabs,

he might just have,

he smiled at you before putting his focus back on the road. “kebab food truck it is”

one thing that miguel had forgotten to mention, is that food trucks don’t have tables and chairs. so people either eat them while standing up or inside their cars,

he didn’t want to trouble you at all, because looking at you right now, in a very pretty dress and heels, he doubt. that you actually wanted to eat while standing up,

“i’m so sorry, muñeca. i forgot to say something about this” he scratched the back of his head. eyes looking through the window where the kebab truck is at,

with a shrug you shot him a reassuring smile. “i don’t mind standing up while eating if that’s what you worried about”

he shook his head. “i mind actually. can’t let you eat and get tired while standing. how about we’ll eat in my car and i’ll go order something for you, si? what do you prefer? i swear if it you say vegan, i will leave you”

you laughed at that comment, “no of course not. i’ll get the chicken one, medium sized. and a cold water”

he pulled out his cash from the back pocket, smiling at you. “be right back”

there was definitely something different about him. a good different. one of them was how miguel is not how the people at campus had painted him to be. could be too soon for that conclusion but throughout the car ride, you were extremely sure that miguel is not a jackass.

instead, he had asked about which songs you wanted him to play in his car. whether or not if you’re comfortable and constantly saying sorry if he overstepped. it all seemed so sweet to you,

your friends would probably give you a weird look praising such simple things. the bare minimum. but these days, those ‘bare minimums’ are hard to pluck from a decent person, correct? nothing’s wrong with praising them anyway.

he knocked on the window, pulling you out of the train thoughts, in which you then rolled it down. “here you go, muñeca. the man assumed that it was for me so he put a lot of chicken there, so-“

“it’s fine. i said i was starving anyway” you took it from his hand, the smell of the delicious meal was making your mouth water.

miguel had himself crouched down to your eye level, thumb pointing over his shoulder. “so. standing up? or my car?”

you thought for a while, then an idea came into your mind with a pretty smile. “got a better one”

miguel frowned in confusion at that, watching you opening the door before walking out of the vehicle. and that’s when you and him standing almost chest to chest, unintentionally.

the moment he looked at you, his mind immediately went blank. in that exact moment, he thought that if it was possible to put charges on someone for how they stare with their eyes, yours would be number one.

because it felt like he was getting hypnotized by your beautiful irises and that there’s no turning back for him. he would volunteer to drown himself in them if it means he gets to see those eyes forever,

“—way nicer”

he blinked. mentally slapping himself in the forehead because he had just realized he wasn’t listening to you at all, too busy day dreaming about your gaze.

“i’m sorry, w-what were you saying?”

an amused smile made it towards your lips, “i said, we could sit by the pavement here. it’s way nicer. we could act like one of those drunk people after night out.”

“but we’re not drunk, muñeca”

“i said act, miguel” you reply in a duh tone, closing the door behind before guiding him to one of the empty ones where it’s not taken, “see? this one’s good spot”

one thing he noticed, you were wearing a pretty dress. “wait!” miguel then rushed towards the back of his car to grab a jacket before going back to you and laying it down on the asphalt. “there. now you can sit”

that one made your heart flutter, eyes moved up to him. “miguel you can’t just do that. your jacket will get dirty”

“I don’t mind. they made washing machine for a reason. i wasn’t going to let your dress get dirty anyway. the color is too pretty” he smiled, finally taking a seat on the rough surface with you following his actions after,

it was quite a cold night, and you regret not bringing a jacket along with you. what even was this weather? sometimes it’s hot, sometimes it’s rainy and sometimes you couldn’t even fucking predict it,

you tried not to let the chills get to you, because it seemed like miguel wasn’t really bothered by it. this man had his whole arms out in a muscle tank and he sat still like it was nothing,

“this is the best kebab i have ever tasted” you moaned with your eyes close on you had the first bite, chewing on the sweet delish,

miguel tried not to let his mind wander when he saw you doing that. “you like it?”

“like?! i love it! miguel this is amazing!” eyes turning into hearts when you gaze the food upon your hands, “how did you find this perfect place?”

“me and the guys often tried to find new places to eat other than burgers and hot dogs after parties and football practice” he settled his legs down, crossing them. “saw this truck while passing by and decided to give it a go”

you hummed. “do you do that a lot?”

“do what a lot?”

“partying” you took another bite, looking over at him as he raised his brows at the question,

“w-well” he chuckled nervously, thinking of a better way to answer. “if i’m being honest, i don’t enjoy it… as much as i did before”

“really?”

“yeah. it was fun at first. partying, getting shit faced… feels lame now. also, probably because now i think of alcohol are just empty calories”

“is that why you wanted to take me out? so you didn’t have a reason to stay there?”

his eyes turned wide, shaking his head in panic mode. “what? no! no of course not! i wanted to! i mean—it just felt like it was the perfect timing! and i— I—so—didn’t i tell you i have a crush on you?!”

with that, you laughed. placing a hand over his knee. “just joking, miguel”

oh fuck you’re touching him.

‘keep it cool, miguel’ he thought,

“oh-oh right, right. sorry” he replied, clearing his throat. still feeling nervous. “you know, i rarely see you at our weekly parties. only gloria and some of your friends.” he pointed out. wiping some of the sauce from the corner of his lips,

you answered. “not really my scene”

“you don’t like parties?”

“not really. i prefer when it’s just a few people that i know. not a whole campus. i like it better when it’s intimate”

“why is that?” he couldn’t help but ask,

“so i can hear people better when they talk. i love having a conversation”. it’s simple really. and it’s true.

you haven’t gone out to wild parties or clubs in a while, and it was safe to say that your life is truly at peace now. not saying that you would turn down any offer to go to one, but you just don’t do it as often,

waste of money and energy. simple things like sleeping before eleven, waking up early, getting your work done and having walks or working out regularly have been your main priorities now,

“ah, i see” he nodded at that, a smile appeared on his face. “intimate party yeah? i keep that in mind”

you raised one of your brows. “you don’t have to just because i said so, miguel”

he shrugged, taking another bite of his food “if that’s what i have to do just so i could see you around more often”

his response completely took you by surprise. and you had no clue what to say to that. fluttered? sure, that’s why you tried to suppress the smile on your face by looking away. you were quite thankful that it was dark out. that way, he wouldn’t be able to see the blush prominent on your cheeks.

the two of you sat there in comfortable silence for a while. devouring the perfect late night meal while watching the cars go by, accompanied by mindless chatters from left to right,

it did come to a surprise that you and miguel have a lot more in common than you think. something that you didn’t see coming. hell, you didn’t even think that you would actually converse with the head of a fraternity and captain of a football team.

a person whom you always try to avoid ever since freshmen year.

“another thing—why haven’t i seen you in lots of my games?”

“miguel, i come to your games. i’m the cheerleader for crying out loud”

“what i meant was why have you never stick around? you do your part and then poof! you’re gone”

raising an eyebrow, you eye him. “are you stalking me now?” he laughs at the accusation, but it’s not entirely false. “i have no reason to stay, why would i stick around?”

“not even for me?” he fakes a dramatic gasp, hand over his chest as if he’s actually hurt. “that pains me, muñeca”

“you’re getting way ahead of yourself, o’hara” you reply with an eye roll but smile anyway,

miguel then looks at the road, shaking his head. “unbelievable. and here i thought about handing you my jersey for you to wear next at our championship game”

and man, did your heart somehow stop for a second there.

because miguel o’hara do not give away his jersey numbers. not the real one nor the merch ones.

“you’re joking?”

“why would i be?” miguel turned his head at you, finding it is much better to look at you rather than the busy road ahead of him,

shrugging, you looked down at your open kebab. “people talk about how your jerseys are off limits. you don’t give away those numbers for anyone”

“well” he breathed out, chewing his lower lip while fiddling with his fingers. “you’re not just anyone to me”

a breath hitched on your throat when his ruby eyes met with your pretty ones once more. and he made a mental note on how your smile deflated in seconds after he said that,

and fuck fuck fuck, he didn’t mean to make you feel weird or uncomfortable. it was the last thing he wanted to do. because he did feel like he was confessing too much to you that night.

but what could he have done?! he likes you and you make him nervous. put the two and two together, and miguel would sputter bunch of shit from his mouth without actually thinking,

“shit” he shook his head, looking away from embarrassment. “i didn’t—I didn’t mean to say that— i mean, i did but—sorry if it made you feel weird. that was too straight forward”

you couldn’t lie, it was rather entertaining to see the captain of a football team and the so called ‘player of campus’ stumble upon his words like that. usually, you would simply roll your eyes and brushed every single guy who had said that to you. because you knew all they wanted to do was to get into your pants,

however miguel looked genuine. and by how fast his cheeks were warming to the color of crimson red or how he scratched the tip of his ears was pretty explanatory,

he wasn’t trying to get into your pants,

instead of giving him a dirty look, you just smiled shyly at him who looked down on his lap. probably re-thinking about his life choices.

“that’s cute” you managed to mumble, scooting a bit closer to his body. putting the half of kebab down beside you. “you actually like me, huh?”

he scoffed at the silly thought, as if the answer to that question had already been written well enough. “i really like you” he confessed, craning his head towards you and he almost passed out on how close you were to him. “makes me go crazy every time i see you, muñeca—i counted the times that you looked at me for just one split second and i died on days that you didn’t”

the way he spoke so carefully and lovingly with you was truly something you had longed from someone. took you by surprise just how much it meant to him for something so simple like wanting you to look at him for once,

one that you didn’t expect miguel o’hara would have said,

“yeah?” and this time, your voice wavered a little. almost like he made his mission accomplished by making you nervous too. “have you been gawking at me then?”

“god you made it sound like i’m a creep” he shook his head out of embarrassment making you laugh. “not gawk—just simply admiring you from afar—during class and your cheerleading practice. but it’s not a weird ass admiring or something like that. hope that’s okay”

it was. indeed it was.

because before this happened, you always assumed that miguel was the typical jock that romcoms have always shown. heartless, player, annoying, screw ups, and the list goes on.

but fuck was he different.

“more than okay” you responded rather quietly, letting your shoulder touched with his and it made miguel’s eyebrows quirk upwards,

and the moment miguel let his eyes looked into yours for more than twenty seconds, he knew for the second time that night—he was in. hooked line and sinker.

you pulled him in deeper than anyone had ever did without you even realizing. he hadn’t even shared a three hour conversation with you. this is the longest he had spoken with the girl he had a crush on,

miguel gulped by the sight of your pretty lips and doe eyes looking up at him. the innocence twinkled within your gaze and he had to refrain himself from kissing you out in the street,

it was one of the hardest thing he had to do that night,

“i just wanted you to give me a chance” he admitted, resting his arms on his knees as he stared at you. “to look at me as me—not as someone who people had spread rumors about on campus—because i’m not that— i don’t sleep around, i promise I don’t”

it was a weird feeling on how your heart broke a little by how defeated he sounded at the moment. his eyes were soften, voice turned small. he was begging silently for you to look past the ‘playboy miguel’ talk from the people that barely even knows him,

he didn’t care if others don’t believe him but he cared if you did.

that’s the only approval he needed,

“i want you to see me” he shyly continued when you chose not to say anything, only looking at him with your widening eyes. “that’s all”

trust has always been something you struggle with from time to time. because it’s easier said than done.

relationships are indeed not your strongest virtue. you shared some in the past but not all of it were pretty except for one. and you haven’t even heard about that person in a long time but you did wish he was okay.

it is unbelievably difficult to put your heart upon someone else’s hands and asking them to take care of it knowing how easy it would be for them to break it along the way,

which was the reason why you avoided miguel in the first place,

to say you hate him with all of your guts and soul would probably be too much. you wouldn’t go that far. you hardly know the man.

but you were persuaded by the gossips and girl talk scattered throughout campus. how he used girls for sex, only to dump them the next day. despite gloria telling you the opposite, you refused to believe her. you were solemnly only trying to protect yourself.

yet only now the guilt was eating you alive. why didn’t you even try to find out for yourself instead of listening to a gang of plastics who love to start off disgusting rumors about others?

looking at him now just made your heart clenched and for your head tilt to the side, just so you can look at him a bit better. you wanted to look at his eyes. you wanted him to not avoid your gaze because you understood now,

more clearer than ever.

“i do. i see you, miguel” you placed a hand on top of his, gently rubbing the skin until his ruby eyes turned to you at the sudden affection,

miguel’s heart almost did a somersault at your smile. even more to the words you had chosen to say next,

“i see you, baby”

—

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! it would make my day:)

[autisticoscarpiastri]

The Bet- Loscar x reader

A little drabble set in this universe created by @maxlarens and me about doing Oscar’s makeup

Tw: None really, reader is implied to have a visibly different skin tone than Oscar (sorry not sorry perfectly tanned girlies) if I missed anything, let me know

“Dude, you lost the bet; you’ve gotta pay the price!” Logan told Oscar.

“Fine, let’s go get y/n,” Oscar begrudgingly told Logan.

Once they arrived at your dorm, they knock on your door. You open the door, wearing a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, with your hair up in a high pony. “What’s up, babes?” you ask upon seeing your boyfriends.

“Oscar lost a bet,” Logan informs you.

“And…” you prompt.

“And the loser has to get his makeup done by you.”

“OMG! I thought you would never ask! Yes, come in. I’ll get my makeup.” Logan makes himself comfortable on your bed will you direct Oscar to sit at your desk chair. “Uh uh, shoes off if you’re on my bed.”

Logan groans before pulling his shoes off and throwing them by your door.

“Oscar, do you mind if I sit on your lap while doing this?” you ask softly.

“Not at all,” Oscar responds, so you straddle his thighs, being mindful of his crotch. This causes Logan to pout.

“First we need to skin prep. I’m just gonna use my moisturizer which is suitable for all skin types. It’s a gel, so it might feel a little cold at first.” You squeeze out just the right amount of moisturizer onto your fingers, warming it up slightly before applying it to Oscar’s face, with extra focus on the places you tend to get driest.

“Now we wait for your skin to absorb the moisturizer. Then we can apply spf.”

“So what exactly do you plan on doing to me,” Oscar asks.

“I’m thinking for you I’m gonna do a simple neutral eye look to really make your brown eyes pop. I’m not gonna use any complexion products because,” you gesture to your face before gesturing to Oscar’s slightly tanned skin. “And then I think I’m gonna use this baby pink blush with shimmer on the cheeks and finish off the look with a lip oil.”

Oscar nods his head in agreement before you touch his cheek to see if the moisturizer been absorbed into the skin which it has. You then apply the SPF onto Oscar’s skin evenly. While that dries you rummage through a makeup bag for the pallet that you plan on using. While rummaging through your makeup bag, you pull out your mascara, makeup brushes, and your eyelash curler.

“What the hell is that?” Logan asks you.

“Ummmm, an eyelash curler. It curls your eyelashes,” you state the obvious.

“Yeah, but how does it work?”

“It’d be easier to show you. Oscar, do you mind?” Oscar shakes his head, so you hold his jaw to keep him still, and use the eyelash curler on his lashes. “Et voila! See how his lashes on the left eye are more straight while the right eye’s are more curled?” you ask Logan.

Logan gets up from his seat at your bed to truly inspect Oscar’s eyelashes. While he’s looking at Oscar’s eyes, you get your eyeshadow palette and open it up. You pick up some of a medium brown shadow onto your brush and apply it to Oscar’s crease and outer corner. You then take a fluffy brush to blend out the harsh edges. You then apply a beige shimmer onto his lid, blending it into the brown shadow. Finally you put a white shimmer on his inner corner and the brow bone. You then move onto his eyelashes. You place the eyelash curler over his eyelashes and clamp down, being careful not to clamp down on his eyelid. Once you think the lash is significantly curled, you apply the mascara.

“You’re gonna have to blink for me, hun,” you tell Oscar. Oscar blinks on command as you coat his lashes. You then copy what you did to his left eye. “I’m using a burgundy mascara which will really make your brown eyes pop.”

You then get your blush and a fluffy blush brush out of your makeup bag. You apply the blush to the brush before tapping the brush against your wrist to evenly apply it to the brush. You then dust the blush on Oscar’s cheekbones making sure that the application is even.

Next you find your lip oil from your bag before unscrewing the cap. You apply it to Oscar’s lips only for him to lick it off. “Osc, you’re not supposed to do that,” you tell him dejectedly.

“If I’m not supposed to eat it, then why is it flavored?”

“It’s flavored to hide the flavor of the oils used in the product.”

“Well it tastes good, what flavor is it?”

“It’s lychee nectar. Now this time you don’t immediately lick it off, okay?” you asked.

“Okay,” he replies, putting his hands up defensively. You then reapply the lip oil, humming contently when he doesn’t immediately lick his lips. You then give him a big kiss on his cheek, being careful to not mess up his makeup.

“Logan, you want to see the finished product,” you ask.

Logan gets up from where he was laying on your bed, scrolling on his phone. “Wait, why is that kinda hot?” Logan asks rhetorically.

“I know, right? Masc guys wearing makeup is honestly such a turn-on for me. It awakens something in me,” you tell the boys. You then move to find a mirror in your makeup bag to show Oscar your handy work.

“Okay, I think I kinda like it,” Oscar tells you a little reluctantly.

“As you should, you look hot! I’ll go get the makeup wipes to take the makeup off then we can go for somewhere for lunch.”

“Wait, would it be that bad if I said I want to keep the makeup on?” Oscar asks.

“Not at all, honestly, there’s nothing hotter then straight men who are comfortable enough in their sexuality to openly express themselves outside of what’s expected of them in public.” When you said straight men, Oscar gave Logan a knowing look.

You get your wallet and phone and tell the boys that you’re ready to go.

“Where do we wanna go for lunch,” Logan asks.

“Oh, there’s a new Thai place downtown that I think we should try,” you inform your boyfriend.

“Does Thai sound good to you, Osc?” Logan asks your other boyfriend, always considerate of both of your feelings.

“Anything sounds good as long as I’m with you two,” Oscar answers.

[markantonys]

i'll be interested to see if this holds true for WOT s3 since the s1 finale had so many extenuating circumstances and can't really be included in the comparison, but based off of the s2 finale, i believe that season finales tend to bear the brunt of "It's Different From The Books!" ire because they are the culmination of all the smaller changes made throughout the season.

this turned into a bigger analysis post than i expected lmao par for the course with my blog! read on for exploration of how the 2x08 conclusion of each season-long arc is the the most emotionally satisfying conclusion and/or the most thematically appropriate conclusion possible based on the show's particular version of the story, plus a bonus tangent on the nature of adaptation.

for a finale episode, the writers' prime concern 100% has to be "wrapping up all the season's arcs in a way that feels satisfying with everything that's happened in the first 7 episodes, using the book version of the finale event as the framework" rather than "recreating the book version of the finale event exactly as it is with all the same scenes and themes". the nature of storytelling inherently means that every single person who tells the same story will focus on different themes (just think of how many versions of the hades & persephone story there are), and a good adaptation knows that being internally consistent with its own Emphasized Themes is more important than copying-and-pasting scenes from the source material without making any changes to account for the specific way this adaptation is telling the story.

(but a lot of people can't even get past this first point because they don't understand that this is how adaptations - how storytelling in general - work. like, person B literally cannot tell the exact same story that person A told without putting their own spin on it. it's not possible! unless they're simply reading out the exact words that person A wrote, which can't be done when putting 14 massive books into maximum 64 hours of tv. so many readers like to meet this point with "but why does the books' version of the story need to be changed at all?" which is just a non-starter because a) medium differences require a ton of changes, and b) even if no changes were *required*, they would happen anyway because that is human nature when it comes to storytelling. when it comes to story-listening too! ask a hundred different book fans what WOT is about and you'll get a hundred different answers. rafe & co can't possibly make an adaptation that captures every single reader's idea of What WOT Is About, and nobody in the world could ever re-tell the story of WOT in the exact same way that RJ told it, not even the most die-hard book fan; all rafe & co can do is focus on making sure the show honors the core of the books' story while also telling a good story in its own right, independent of the source material.)

i was a classics major, okay? it gets to me! anyway, corralling myself back on topic.

for 2x08, it's very telling just how far Minority Reader Opinion deviates from the general audience opinion. general audiences fucking LOVED this episode (it's the highest-rated on imdb out of the entire show, currently at a 9.0; most episodes are in the 7-8 range), but a bunch of readers call it disappointing and one of the worst episodes of the show. if it was actually a poor quality episode of television, the general audience ratings would reflect that too (as they do for 1x08, currently at a 6.4 (i personally think 1x08 gets way more hate than is deserved and i thoroughly enjoy that episode, but i accept that's just me)), but they don't.

so what does that mean? to me, it means that 2x08 is objectively a very good episode of television which general audiences found satisfying, but which some readers disliked because it prioritized the emotional & thematic needs of its own version of the story over the exact nature of the falme events in the source material. which is exactly what a good adaptation should do! if you forget the books and just look at the show (which the vast majority of viewers are doing), then every resolution that happens in 2x08 is the most satisfying resolution possible and/or the only resolution that was thematically permitted for that particular season storyline.

egwene: her season arc was about learning to stand on her own two feet and not cling onto her mentor figures or compare herself unfavorably to others. thus, her freeing herself from the a'dam is the most satisfying possible conclusion to her season arc. nynaeve and elayne freeing her in the books is nice, but in the show version, thematically, it would've undercut egwene's Overcoming Impostor Syndrome arc to go "yeah actually it's true that she's not good enough on her own and when it comes down to it she does always need nynaeve to help her out". that version worked in TGH where she didn't have an Overcming Impostor Syndrome arc, but it wouldn't have worked in the show where she did. (but, yes, egwene learning in 2x08 that she doesn't have to rely on others is a double-edged sword, which nicely sets up her later-series struggles with trying to shoulder too much herself and not letting even her friends or partner help her.)

rand: his season arc was about learning to lean on others and not isolate himself or try to protect his friends by withholding his burdens from them. thus, him failing to defeat ishamael until all his friends come to lend aid in various ways is the most satisfying possible conclusion to his season arc. rand defeating ishy singlehandedly in the books is nice, but in the show version, thematically, it would've undercut his Learning That Strength Is In Numbers arc to go "yeah actually it's true that rand is capable of winning his biggest battles all by himself and thus it's no problem for him to push his friends away". given the themes that s2 emphasized for rand, the only appropriate finale outcomes were either success with his friends' help or total failure on his own, and they chose the former. (that being said, rand pushing his friends away is a continuous issue for him throughout the series, so i doubt he's perfectly learned his lesson after 2x08; we shall see!)

interesting to note that rand and egwene have inverse arcs in a way (foils!) and that some elements of their book falme climaxes were swapped, and that the way the show has done it subverts the expected gender roles. typically, men are expected to be Lone Wolves and women to be Team Players, and the WOT books absolutely play into these stereotypes throughout the series (sometimes intentionally as social commentary, sometimes unconsciously as an accepted truth of the world), but 2x08 and s2 more broadly did the opposite with our yin-and-yang co-protagonists. it's egwene who has the arc about learning to be a Lone Wolf and rand who has the arc about learning to be a Team Player. and imo these subconscious gender role expectations are a part of why some readers (esp reddit) got SO heated about "how come egwene can succeed by herself but rand can't", because it feels Wrong to them and Not How Things Are Supposed To Work (they've never questioned why rand can succeed by himself but egwene needs her friends' help in TGH, or all the other times in the books when men succeed by themselves and women succeed by relying on each other). but it's a totally apples-to-oranges comparison because egwene and rand had totally different season arcs and focal themes (but many paralleling & foiling moments within that), and so they each get a conclusion tailor-made to their individual stories.

mat: his season arc was about realizing he's a good, worthy person, finding the inner strength to overcome his worst impulses and temptations, and coming through for his friends after leaving them at the waygate. thus, him getting his Big Damn Hero moment with the horn of valere, getting validation that he is literally a hero, and overall spending the episode doing all he can to support his friends is the most satisfying possible conclusion to his season arc. (but stabbing his bff just as he was flying on a confidence high and trying to save the day was a downer note to end on, so we've complicated his relationship with heroism and set up some more internal issues for him to wrestle with next season.)

perrin: his season arc was about learning to acknowledge his inner wolf but also coming to regard it with fear and to believe that wolf & human sides can't coexist and he must Choose One (.......suddenly being struck by the bisexuality metaphor of it all. nice!) thus, him giving into violence to murder a human to avenge a wolf is.....well, it's pretty upsetting for him and serves to reinforce his growing belief that his two sides can't coexist, but thematically, it's fascinating and sets him up for some really great internal (and external) conflicts in s3. he's just gotten what he thinks is pretty strong evidence to corroborate ishy's claim that embracing his wolf side means embracing the shadow, so he's set up for a season 3 of deep-diving into his relationship with violence and his inner wolf. it's also a neat parallel with 1x08: there perrin's avoidance of violence allowed fain to escape, whereas here his embracing of violence has traumatized him (again), so our poor guy is really feeling conflicted in the pacificism-or-violence question because both sides seem wrong to him right now. huh, i guess perrin's full-series arc is about finding a middle ground rather than one extreme (pacifism/tuatha'an/human) or the other (violence/aiel/wolf). i feel like i've just had an epiphany lmao this is why i love the show! it tells the same story as the books, but tells it in a different way that makes me think about it differently and gain new insights!

nynaeve: her season arc was about learning that she, on her own, as she is today, is not enough to protect her loved ones. this is a tough pill for both her and the audience to swallow! but it's needed for her character, and we see it in the books too. nynaeve has an incredible amount of power, but she's terrified of having that much power and wants to pretend it doesn't exist. she's resistant to change, she's used to being in charge, and she's very "my way or the highway". these are all things she needs to grow out of (or moderate, at least) in order to be able to step up and do her part for tarmon gai'don. she has to learn how to embrace her power instead of being afraid of it or being too stubborn to let other people guide her and teach her, so s2 shows her what happens if she doesn't, first hypothetically in the accepted test (everyone she loves dies because she's blocked and refused channeling training) and then for real in falme (she couldn't help elayne fully or rand at all because of her block). so her 2x08 conclusion being Total Failure is not emotionally satisfying, no, but it's thematically exactly what she needed and will goad her into facing her block head-on next season. thematically, like rand, nynaeve only had 2 options for falme: break her block and succeed, or retain her block and fail, and it was too soon for the former (we gotta let her cook a while longer, plus the story will become too easy if nynaeve, or rand, reaches supernova capability too soon), so it had to be the latter. if the show had gone with a third option of her succeeding without breaking her block, then that would've taught her and the audience that it's fine to leave the block in place and she doesn't need to challenge herself to grow as a person, because when it TRULY matters she can always get around the block.

other characters get appropriate resolutions too! moiraine and lan get to work together to succeed after being at odds and failing on their own all season (rand foils!). elayne gets validation that she is an essential and trusted part of the friend group after feeling like somewhat of an outsider earlier in the season. ishamael getting vanquished and lanfear betraying him only to be betrayed by him in turn is exactly where their mutual mistrust was leading them (and it shows us why it's so important that Team Light be able to work as a team rather than as self-interested individual operators; the contrast between ishy & lanfear looking at the seals together while plotting to betray each other vs. rand standing on the tower with all his friends behind him makes me cry your honor. imagine hating that ishy's defeat was a team effort, could not be me!)

(it's also worth noting that the characters who had the least individual success/victory in 2x08 (nynaeve, rand, perrin) are the ones who will have the biggest individual storylines in s3 (tanchico & moggy, waste arc, two rivers arc), whereas the characters who had the most individual success/victory (egwene, mat, moiraine, lan) are the ones who will be taking a bit more of a backseat (of course they all have their own stuff to do, but none of them is *the* lead character of their TSR/s3 traveling group). this is intentional!)

so there you have it. 2x08 is adored by the general audience, and it's because of this: it gives us some damn satisfying conclusions to all the season arcs (and some exciting and visually stunning battle sequences to boot), and all the viewers who AREN'T beleaguered by "But The Books!", which is most of them, recognize that for the good storytelling it is. i for one will always care far more about the show telling a good story within itself than the show being identical to the books, and rafe & co will too, as they should.

the only downside to the episode is that, yes, it is quite cramped for time because there are a lot of arcs to wrap up. this should be less of an issue in future seasons when the season finale isn't "every single major storyline converges in the same place at once". for example, judging by the "goldeneyes" episode title it seems s3 might split it up so that perrin's conclusion in the two rivers is in 3x07 while other conclusions in other locations are in 3x08, giving each more breathing room. whereas 2x08 had no choice but to stuff everything in that episode into that specific episode because it's not like perrin could just do his falme stuff an episode early and take a nap while everyone else was doing THEIR falme stuff in the next episode, nor could the full falme sequence have been split into 2 episodes since that would have disrupted the flow of the story. the only solution would be for 2x08 to be extra long, which is nice to imagine, but we all know that streaming shows almost never deviate from their set episode lengths and so there isn't much point sighing about "this episode should have been 90 minutes long!" because that just is not on the table, never has been, and never will be. the first step to being able to jive with an adaptation is making peace with the limits of its particular medium!

plus, the only things i might deem "missing" from 2x08 are non-essential (ingtar darkfriend reveal - that is NOT important fight me, it's only important in the books as our first example of a morally-gray shadow-aligned person but the show has already been doing that in spades) or will likely be included in 3x01 (the gang spending some time together to breathe and process and catch up). at the end of the day, the show is always going to need to be paced very very tightly with not as much breathing room as those of us accustomed to entire books dedicated to reacting to the previous book might expect. and 2x08 did manage to pack in a LOT of character work amidst all the action and did a good mix of resolving s2 arcs while leaving some unresolved to carry into s3 and introducing some new arcs/issues/conflicts, all within 70 minutes, which i find pretty impressive. in conclusion, 2x08 my fucking beloved <3

[gay-wh0re-slut]

HEYYY

Can you write rhea x fem!reader where they are at the movies and they decide to sit all they way in the back away from everyone because reader doesn’t like being near anyone and rhea gets the idea to fool around while they watch the movie (smut please)

heyyyyyyy thank you for your request hehehe i’ve always wanted to do this

this is so cheeky oooooo let’s see how this goes

Two Tickets

rhea x fem!reader

content: sexy fun times with your hot buff wrestler gf in a movie theater. def some touching and teasing, def some kissing

“Thank you, baby,” you say as you walk through door held open for you. You insisted on bringing a blanket because you always go too cold in the theaters, she loved cuddling up to you anyway.

The buff woman chuckles behind you, letting the door close behind the two of you. She quickly walks in front of you to the ticket counter.

Rhea saw online that they were doing a special showing of Friday the 13th. If you wore merch, you’d get fifty percent off the tickets, so of course you had to go. Half of her closet was horror movie merch.

“Two tickets for Friday the 13th, please,” her accent echoed a bit.

The worker looked intimidated by her, which was funny to you and almost immediately rang you up for the tickets. “Uh..anything else?”

She turned towards you, “popcorn?” she shrugged her large shoulders.

“Sure,” you chirped.

“Medium popcorn plea-”

“And a large lemonade!” you added on.

She rolled her eyes playfully, “and a large lemonade please.”

“Y-you got it,” he pushed buttons on the screen. As the card reader loaded, he scooped the popcorn and got the lemonade, placing both on the counter in front of your girlfriend. The tickets printed after she removed her card and he handed them to her.

“Thank you,” she handed the drink to you, then took the popcorn and tickets.

“Enjoy your movie,” he said quietly as you walked away.

“We will,” she winked towards him.

His knees almost buckled right then. It was fun having her around you thought, you almost got everything you wanted.

Walking into the theater, there was more people than you thought there would be. You froze for a second before Rhea looked at you with a soft smile, letting you know that everything will be okay. You followed her to the very back, right under the projector. Both of you sat down and situated yourselves under the blanket. This theater had the seats that could move so that you were basically laying down.

The previews played as more people trickled in. To your surprise, no one else sat in the back row. Was it Rhea's aura or did they want to be scared? Either way, you didn't mind.

The movie finally started. The wrestler hit your leg playfully out of excitement. She told you earlier that she has always wanted to see the movie on the big screen, "I was born too late," she would say.

As the movie went on, you finally realized that her hand was resting on your thigh, luckily under the blanket. Which wasn't any different than normal but what was different was that she was slowly moving it...up your leg.

"Baby," you whispered.

"What?" she whispered back teasingly.

"We're in pub-"

"The movie is loud and we're the only ones back here," her accent tingled in your ear as it sent chills down your spine.

She leaned over to start kissing on your neck, "c'mon baby," her whispering got more sensual as she talked.

"I thought you wanted to watch it on the big screen."

"Well, yes..." her hand was insanely close to your center now, "but you are much more intriguing." Her other hand reached to your chin and gently pulled you towards her. She glanced into your eyes then flicked her gaze down to your lips then back to your eyes, "be a good girl for me, yeah?"

You bit your lip trying to silence the whimper that was pushing its way out. Nodding your head in desperation, you scoot yourself closer to her wishing that the arm of the chair could fold up, but unfortunately it couldn't.

The movie played as her teasing went on. The more suspense in the movie, the more pressure she put on your center, and the more you struggled to keep yourself together. Every so often she would kiss your neck holding your face away from her for better access. Her tattooed hand massaged its way to your core as the people in front of you cowered in fear. The jump scare got closer and closer as her hand added more and more pressure.

"SHIT!" you screamed in arousal as the rest of the crowd screamed in fear at the jump.

She chuckled in your ear as the crowd died down and removed her hand, but only slightly.

Finally the movie ended, "get your ass in the car," she growled as she ripped the blanket away from the two of you. You quickly grabbed the half full drink, barely eaten popcorn and basically ran out to her big truck. She followed close behind you lazily folding the blanket.

Squirming all the way home, you jumped out of the car, dropped the popcorn and the drink on the counter and before you could make it to the bedroom-

"Uh uh, princess," as she caught you from behind, engulfing you in her big arms. She carried you back to the couch and threw you down.

You giggled as you plopped down.

"You did so well, my love," she kneeled in front of you landing her hands on the outside of your thighs.

You relaxed the muscles you didn't know you were holding tense. Letting out a long breath as you did, you let your head fall back, resting on the back of the couch. Your hands tangled themselves in her raven dark hair as she kissed along your thighs. Her hands toyed with your waistband, tugging on them hoping you get the hint.

Of course you did, but you loved the feeling of her teasing you, "not yet," you breathed.

"Correct answer," she grinned. She continued to kiss up your thighs and grazing her hands all over you. They trailed up to your sides, to your stomach, to your tits then finally back down to your legs. She slowly pushed them open causing her to kiss the inside of your thighs.

A small moan fell out of you as you readjusted yourself to move closer to the edge of the couch. You heard a faint giggle come from below you, sending a shock through you straight to your core.

Instead of tugging this time, Rhea purposely pulled harder on your waistband, silently telling you to lift your hips. So you did, allowing her to pull your pants off and thrown to the side as you helped.

"Look at you," she sat back holding your legs open staring at the arousal that soaked your underwear, "all for me?" she cooed.

"Mhmm," you whined, "please baby..."

"So desperate," she mocked. Her devilish smile dove back down to kiss on your now bare skin. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she trailed the kisses up to your core. Planting her soft lips right above where you need them most.

You shifted your hips closer to her but she backed away in perfect timing, "uh uh, you know the rules babygirl."

You sigh loudly, "hmph," as you drop your hands from her shoulders.

"Aw, a lil frustrated are we?"

"No," you lie.

"Right, so me doing this," she carefully grazed her thumb over your clit, "doesn't do anything?"

Your hips jerked as you grunted in frustration, "n-no."

"Right...and this?" she did the same motion but added slightly more pressure.

"Fuck," you said under your breath. You took a short but deep breath, "no," you growled.

"Uh huh," the devilish grin grew back. Her icy blue eyes flicked over your body, watching you writhe in front of her. It didn't take her long to figure out what to do next. She stood, then bent at her waist, placing a hand under your chin, lifting your head up to match her gaze. "Stand up," she whispered sternly.

You followed orders and stood as your legs shook, but only slightly. Her hand was on your chin the whole way up. She grabbed you more aggressively, then pulled you in for a long deep kiss before pushing you to the side. She took your seat, manspreading in front of you. You watched in awe as if she's never done this before. She draped her arms on the back cushions. Once more, her eyes danced over your body before she patted her thigh to tell you to sit down.

You followed her command and straddled her waist, resting your arms on her large shoulders.

"Hmm," she hummed in content, "I love making you like this."

"Like what?"

"Sooo... desperate," she trails a finger down your neck, to your chest, "sooo needy," the finger continues to the elastic of your underwear, playing with it.

"I can't help it," you moan at her touch.

"I know," she whispered in her husky voice. She grabbed your face with her free hand and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss, quickly followed by her other hand diving underneath the cotton and straight to where you needed her most.

You were moaning loudly at her touch, as she held your head in place, not letting you go. Her skilled hand was forming small circles on your clit. Your hands flew to her hair gripping at anything you can.

She finally lets go of her death grip, "that's it, baby," as she pushed some stray hairs out of your face before cupping your jaw.

"Holy fuck," you whined. Her hand was going full force now, giving everything you wanted. The pressure and pace was perfect. You didn't realize you were grinding on her hand until she placed her other hand on your ass helping you through it. You moaned and whined into her neck, resting your head on her shoulder.

"Look at me," she said quietly, but you didn't listen. She immediately stopped her working hand.

"No please don-"

"Then look at me," she said harsher.

So you did.

"Good girl," her eyes were dark and hungry. "Now, I can tell you're close," she slowly starts again, causing you to ache for a release, "I need you to look at me when you come...undone," her pace quickens a bit, "can you do that for me, love?"

"Mhm, yes, yes I can, y-yes," you pleaded hoping she would stop teasing.

"Good," finally, she quickens her pace and adds more pressure perfectly as her other hand supports your back.

You almost immediately drop your chin to your chest before picking it back up again. One of your hands grip onto to her neck and the other is braced on the back of the couch. Your breath becomes more shallow, your hips are moving back and forth quicker than you thought possible. Moans and whines continue spilling out of you. You rest your forehead on hers.

"Oh shit, Rhea," you were basically whimpering now.

"C'mon baby," her voice was deep but breathy.

The knot that had been forming in your stomach since before you left the theater finally snapped, "FUCK," you cried out, throwing your head back. Loud moans filled the room as you rode out your high on her hand, slowly calming down as she followed suit in slowing down her pace.

As you caught your breath, you laid your head on her shoulder. She took back her hand and wrapped her arms around you letting you rest.

You finally lifted your head, "you're so fucking hot when you're mean to me by the way."

"Yeah? Should I call you a slut next time then?" she giggled, half joking.

"God, yes," you groaned.

"Well, then," she easily picked you up and began carrying you, "let's see what happens when I do," as she took you to the bedroom.

[ilysungho]

do u have any fem!bonedo hard thoughts ... :33

oh yes i do ☺️ i’ve been thinking about it since i made the sungho and fem!sungho on my bed post (still standing by that… when am i going to have a threesome with hot stuff and fine shyt?)… also i feel like im naturally more dominant when talking about women so if it goes that direction then you know why, but i’ll try to keep it as general as i can for everyone <3 tell me your thoughts too loves, i’d love to talk more about fem!bnd 💗

contains: fem!bnd x fem!reader, implied switch!member (but they’re all sub leaning, fem!riwoo is sub top), short-hair!sungho, big-titty!riwoo, pillow-princess!leehan, pussy eating, degradation, hair pulling, edging, overstimulation, penetration (strap in v), on the edge of monster-fucking, deep throating, marking, use of toys (clamps, vibrators), lowercase intended

fem!sungho -> if there’s one thing i can visualize, it’s that she would have the prettiest face ever while eating you out, kitten licks over your clit as she has her hands behind her back. i can also see her having short hair (mma sungho length) so while you grind into her mouth, she’d also be moaning into your pussy as you pull her hair slightly. i can also see her enjoying getting degraded… just wants to be called a pretty little slut by you <3

fem!riwoo -> oh she’s a crazy one. a lot of smirks while scissoring you. fem!riwoo would also have medium to bigger sized boobs so she purposefully move a lot to make them move too. absolutely LOVES being told what to do but takes her time with doing it, so you’re edging yourself until she gets it done. also she would ask so many questions like “you like that?” “i’m being so good right?” “aren’t you feeling like you’re in heaven right now?” while she overstims you.

fem!jaehyun -> strap. that’s all. she’d LOVE everything to do with the strap and just NEEDS to feel her cunt get filled to the brim with it. you both would even experiment with different kinds, sizes, and types. a little more uncommon but she would love abnormal dildos and straps (like monster ones iykwim, her fav would be dragon cocks/tails!). also, she loves being degraded so much while deep throating your cock cause she can’t say anything which just makes her pussy wetter for you <3

fem!taesan -> if there’s one thing she does amazingly, it’s sucking on your tits like never before. she fucking loves your boobs so much (much like taesan himself would, he’s a tit man to me) and would be so into marking them and even having her own marked. if she got tattoos there, then she’d also want to have you mark them up to color them and vice versa! also she’s just such a pain slut, i can see her particularly enjoying her nipples and clit getting clamped <3

fem!leehan -> i’m not sure why but i can see her being a complete 180° of my interpretations of leehan. she’d be so soft and warm, loving being a pillow princess for you while smiling that cute smile of hers. also a whiner, so once you get to overstimulation, she’d be crying and whining from all the pleasure. but also, when you’re not there to please her, she’d want a couple vibrators on/in her at the least to feel the same stimulation she does when you’re taking her apart!