spectergeuse

[spectergeuse]

hi ! it's been a hot minute !! i'd like to explain my absence and the my general feelings about the future

to make a long story very short, around the end of summer and into the fall of last year several close longtime friends left my life basically back-to-back for some pretty personal and emotional reasons. some of it was my fault, some of it wasn't my choice. it all took a massive emotional toll on me, and losing these people who i loved immensely who helped me flourish with creativity also took a lot of my desire to make art with it. i'm only just now getting back into wanting to write and make things again. and it's a really nice feeling - it feels like someone re-lit the pilot light in me. but i also am taking it very, very slowly, and trying to feel my way into writing longform, legitimate, fun things again, for myself.

i don't know if i'll find my way back to writing here. i do miss writing with others, but i also wrote with all of those friends, too, and having to leave the art i made with them behind has really affected me and recovering is a slow process. so i just wanted to put this here. i'm alive, i'm hurting, but i'm healing. i hope everyone understands. i love you all very, very much, and i hope that i'll be back sooner rather than later.

[spectergeuse]

prompts for emotionally stunted idiots

because my friends muses need therapy. will they get it? absolutely not. 

AVOIDING THE TERRIFYING ORDEAL OF BEING KNOWN:  

“  yeah i’m pissed off but i’d rather not talk about it.  that’s why you’re the one i came to.  ”

“  i’m not looking for a friend.  i’m looking for someone just as angry as i am.  ”

“  i’m not good at caring about people’s shit on purpose.  ”

“  i’m not gonna ask if ‘you’re okay’ cause that’s fuckin’ annoying.  you wanna get the hell out of here and do something?  ”  

 “  i don’t wanna talk about it. you got a beer?  ”  

“  upset?  why would i be upset?  ”

“  so you wanna go find something to break?  ”  

“  hey you want me to kill that guy for you?  ”

“  i just need to get this shit done.  and i trust you to help me do that.  ”  

“  you’re hot.  and i’m bored.  ”  

“  can we just have some meaningless sex we can both pretend didn’t happen tomorrow morning?  ”

“  i can think of at least a dozen people that need killing.  or a light beating.  will that cheer you up?  ”

“  i’ve a got job and i think you’d be the perfect fit.  so you in?  ”

“  yeah i don’t do the whole crying thing.  give me something to stab and i’ll be good in a day or two.  ”

“  i banged it out and now i feel great.  next question.  ”

“  if i think about it,  i get angry.  and i don’t know where that anger stops.  so i’d rather not start at all.  ”

VARIOUS SENTENCES WITH ABSOLUTELY NO DEPTH U COWARDS: 

“  if you’re gonna stay here you can’t be sober so either take the fruity beer or the shitty wine or let me be vibe in peace.  ”

“  how much insect essence do you think are in every square inch of chocolate? like just how many cockroach guts have i consumed with my hershey’s? ” 

“  you should’ve seen the look on their face.  it’s been so long since i’ve made someone that fuckin’ angry it was great.  ” 

“  i have this neighbor who keeps playing driver’s license at 10 a.m. every morning and i’m starting to question if it’s a sixteen year old getting over a breakup or a 36 year old trying to reclaim their childhood. at this point the mystery is the only thing keeping me going.  ”

“  do i trust you?  absolutely not.  next question.  ”

“  if i don’t get a nap in the next hour i’ll probably murder someone.  ”

“  you’re getting that look in your eyes like you’re about to ask me what’s wrong so i’m gonna save us both the awkwardness of finding an excuse to leave and just go now.  ”

“  i’m here to raid your fridge cause my date went really bad and all i’ve had is lukewarm water and breadsticks.  ”

“  i’m making a fake tinder profile to see how gullible guys are, wanna help?  ”   

“  hey i got something for you look!  ”   *holds up middle finger* 

U MIGHT GET PUNCHED: 

“  why are you really here?  ”

“  i’m not leaving until you tell me what the fuck is going on.  ”

“  you can’t solve every problem with your fists.  ”  

“  i’m not here to talk about me.  what the hell is going on with you?  ”

“  you think i don’t notice but i do.  i can tell something’s wrong.  ”   

“  i can see beneath your smile.  ”

“  why won’t you just tell me the truth?  ”

“  what are you hiding? and don’t you dare try to lie to me. ”

“  what the hell did you do?  ”

“  so are we gonna talk about it or are we gonna pretend nothing’s wrong here?  ”

[spectergeuse]

he has been made corporeal. touching and being touched. there is a steady, quick thumping under his fingertips, against his palm as he holds her. there is her hands, delicately settling against his chest, warm and grounding. reciprocating. saying yes. his free hand comes up, and both move in tandem on her. he lets go of her throat, brings both of his cold hands up to cup her cheeks, hold her face. there is a fervor there, a want he lets loose, for just a moment. he shows her just what she's missing. keeps them in that spot, standing there, but presses against her, kisses her with the dedication of a real husband, batters down the walls of her personal space. she tastes maroon and human. she tastes alive. he wants to devour her. nothing would have stopped him but himself. he has to. fucking this up would mean the end of everything. he pulls away, slow and steady, letting her catch her breath in the small space he's left open for her. he lets it sit, lets what just happened sink in.

it's after a moment that he speaks, rough and slow. ❝ that's all you want ? ❞ he'll let go if she says to let go. he'll disappear if she asks him to disappear. he takes another moment to linger. he'd do just about anything for her, if she said it right. and that's not just the marriage talking. ❝ i could give you more, you know. ❞ he takes back some of the space, just brushes his lips against hers. a temptation, a promise. ❝ you know what you have to do. ❞ a threat. wanting what she wants, but wanting what would directly benefit him more.

she's out of her comfort zone. she's pushed herself from the nest of her own accord. she's taken this step forward on her own and oh how she can hear the protests from those dearest ones in her life. they are telling her to run. hell, there's a part of herself that is terrified. there's a part of herself that is telling her to run.

yet she remains here with him.

there's a momentary fright, not expecting the quick pull, and a gasp escapes as she feels his lips against her own. the stark contrast between them, of life and death, is not missed as she leans in. maybe things hadn't gone appropriately, but neither had annulled the marriage. why? she had no answer. she could never put words to reply and beej had certainly avoided answering whenever she asked. but there's something about his hand against her throat, some deep darkness within her that delights in this possessive nature from this specific ghostly being. perhaps tomorrow she will hate herself for actions, but today she finds pure delight.

eyelashes flutter to a close and she leans in, testing the waters. hand reached forward, silently testing her own fear, her own bravery, as she settled it against his chest.

[spectergeuse]

the response conjures up a laugh out of him. all in good fun, all in jest. their back-and-forths are like this, punchy and bright with the lightest touch of mean. it's spirited, what he's come to expect from her. but things can change. humans are fickle, odd creatures. almost a millennia with them and that hasn't changed. where regina would usually shoo him away to go sulk in a corner until morning, here he still sat, on the little plush bench at the end of her bed with his boots on and his legs crossed up over each other. being told he could stay. he let her guide the conversation, let her work things out on her own from her spot at the vanity. she was smart, but she was also still young, by living standards. he could try and persuade her one way or the other, but that felt like cheating. not that he wasn't above cheating, but this curse of his surely wasn't.

she suggests sex in such a way that bj still isn't sure if she's joking. he wonders, as she picks up the phone and leaves him to his own thoughts, if this is how others feel when he talks to them about feelings and responsibilities. this weird sense of being led along without knowing the final destination, it's a new feeling, not one he's keen on. he straightens up, leveling his full attention on her as she moves so casually, talks so easily, as if she didn't just offer him one of the great carnal desires of mortality. he physically has to fight himself to not get up and cross the room when she addresses him again. disappear and reappear, grab her, hold her to her word. just to scare her. just for a little bit of payback. instead, he sits, a stillness only achieved from not being of this world keeping him to that spot. ❝ might slip into bed early ? ❞ quoting her instead of answering, there's a particular feeling underlying the words. ❝ you know if you're gonna keep me in here, there's not going to be a whole lot of sleeping. ❞ he's not being coy anymore. he never figured that was her style, anyways.

Regina arched a perfectly shaped brow. " Oh wouldn't you just love for me to ask you to fuck." She said, hopping up off her bed and going straight to her closet to change into her night clothes. Was she changing in front of him? Of course she was. She had nothing to hide and she liked to show off. " Maybe I should of spoke better. I was offering for you to spend the night in my room." She kicked him out a lot of the nights but tonight she didn't want to be alone.

She put on a tiny pair of shorts and matching cami. " You know though..." She started as she sat on her vanity chair to check her reflection. " Maybe we should fuck. You might finally get your name out of me." A wicked grin pulled on her lips as she watched him in the mirror. " Hold that thought." She picked up her vibrating phone. " Hey Gretch. Nah just hanging out. Might slip into bed a little early." She was having too much fun but a part of her was also interested.

Regina liked spending time with him and sex with a ghost? That had to be better than sleeping with boys at school but she wouldn't make it too easy. " Mhmm. Yeah. Okay see you tomorrow." She hung up her phone and brushed out her hair. " So what were we talking about, Beej?"

[spectergeuse]

his name is a kindness, one many don't think he deserves. there is a curse on him for just that reason. but her confidence in saying it hurts in a wonderful way, in a way he can only imagine philia feels like. to have a friend that looks past all the dirt and outlandishness, and finds a soul. ❝ i'll have to bring you up sometime ! ❞ bj offers, the novelty of upstairs not lost on him, and certainly the novelty of being able to show others. ❝ make a real day out of it. cause some shenanigans. my treat. ❞ running amok among the living was fun, sure, but he'd never gotten to do it with someone else. what a treat it would be.

maybe he shouldn't have brought up the ex, with how it all seems to weigh on her, even after all this time. but, as he always points out, he may be funny, but he isn't necessarily kind. he'll toss someone else under the bus just to keep himself from hurting. ❝ well. it's a good thing bo and the crew got your back. ❞ he doesn't try to let that sound too protective, too much like he'd also lay someone out flat for even breathing wrong in her direction. ❝ though this place is feeling a little dead. ❞ pun intended. he looks around as he leans on the upright piano. ❝ maybe i should stick around. just to see how things have been shaking out. ❞ but it's obvious how his mind was already made up. they were a lot more fun down here anyways. it's what he gets, he supposes, for asking in the first place. her question is still so gentle, so unbelievably cordial, it feels a little like being stabbed. he makes it a point to not think about the band of rot around his left third finger, mostly because it makes something in his chest twist and tighten a little too uncomfortably for his enjoyment. ❝ i have. ❞ it comes out strange, softer than anything he could have ever conjured up before. ❝ crazy, right ? ❞ a half-smile scurries across his mouth. ❝ twice, actually. ❞ a beat. realizing just what what going on inside of him. ❝ but you can't keep a good man tied down for long. ❞ yet his heart's not in the humor, not quite in that half-smile still lingering.

SHE WATCHES HIM MOVE FORWARD , coming closer to her . her smile remained , soft and sincere . still , bones brushed along the ivory keys . her gaze softens as he speaks , loving how carefree he always was . eyes lifted to the ceiling , imagining the living world far above --- or was it around ? it was like they were in a sort of little pocket in the world ; so vast yet so small .

❝ i must say that i am a bit envious , beetlejuice . . . ❞ again she spoke his name , unafraid of saying it as many were . she quite liked the name . it was as unique as he was . so lively and unabashedly himself . ❝ able to see how the world is . . . up there . there are times where i try to remember what the moons looks like and the image escapes me . ❞

smile faltered when that man is mentioned . shoulders slump and if she had working lungs she'd give a great sigh . ❝ he has ways of seeking me out though i have requested that he not . i do not wish to see him . . . he's so cruel . . . ❞ as in life --- him dying did nothing to change that . she was still angry and yet . . . he was dead . technically she was avenged , but now she was still stuck having to see him and hat sneer upon his face .

gaze falls to her bare finger . the one where a golden band once rested . she rubs at the bare bone , remembering . ❝ have you ever been married ? ❞

[spectergeuse]

it's a little like talking to a child, but not necessarily in a bad way. big bambi eyes and lucid, slightly-awkward movements, like she's not used to her body, still figuring out what to do with it. either she hasn't been a ghost for long, or she's been a ghost for so long that she couldn't remember how human her body was. neither here nor there. he always did like kids more than adults, anyways. she holds such reverence in her words, for him, and it's a different kind of ego boost. no one really hung on his words like this, cared for his presence quite like she seems to be. her smile is wonderstruck, sparkling bokeh like the lights outside of the dirty manor windows. ❝ it's comfortable, ❞ he assures her easily. ❝ you take a number, and you hang out with other spirits waiting to cross over, and it's always busy, so you might be there a while. but you make friends. you especially will make friends. ❞ with a little wave to her, he feels like he's really selling it. the waiting room, the bureaucracy, the paperwork, it's always been the most boring part, in his opinion. but maybe boring is better than nothing.

her face falls, the question of reality dragging them back down. back into this house, back to the shadows and the cobwebs, back to whatever is making her so sad. it actually takes bj a moment to response. ❝ can't say. ❞ though his casualty hasn't waned, he knows the honesty will be enough of a blow. ❝ this house, it's got its claws pretty deep in you. and the others. ❞ he nods towards the not-so-empty space behind her. no need to elaborate there. ❝ but hey - we can figure that out together. we're two smart little specters. ❞ he smiles, not so toothy or threatening but still a little out-of-place, leans forward on the banister. ❝ what do you say ? everyone needs a friend, even in the afterlife. ❞ they aren't worth much in the way of summonings or resurrections, but he'll take what he can get.

When his voice called out to her from where he sat on the banister, like gravity, she was pulled to him, curious as to what he had to let her in on. A SECRET. She liked those; something so fragile to hold in carefully in her hands and never let another soul in on. A secret was something she was good at keeping. Soundless feet stepped closer to the odd yet interesting ghost, an eagerness about her. The light didn't die from her eyes when he couldn't speak to whether or not heaven and hell existed at all.

Instead, her bright brown orbs remained wide and full of HOPE, something she hadn't quite felt in a very long time. If there was more out there than this house, she wanted to find it. She wanted to see beyond the cracked and foggy windows. She wanted to see more than shadows looming down the hallway, lost souls too afraid to cross one another no matter how many were consumed here now. They would never come here again, but she wanted her siblings to live with peace of mind knowing she was anywhere but here anymore.

❝ The Netherworld, ❞ she repeated back out loud with this smile across her face; the same one she used to have when she saw her Christmas presents underneath the tree in the morning after a night of sleep too restless with excitement. ❝ It sounds magical, like a fairytale, ❞ she mused out loud. Nell loved fairytales, being swept up in stories of wild imaginations and fantasies that made her giddy with happiness you couldn't find anywhere else.

The smile on her face almost dimmed, unsure of herself now. ❝ How do I get there? ❞ She wondered, especially from her standpoint of being LOCKED IN HERE.

[spectergeuse]

he's been compared to many things, in his millennia between here and there. a mutt dog, a feral cat, a rabies-ridden bat, a roadkill raccoon - the jabs never seem to end. and they get more creative as time goes on. she wants to call him something, he can see it in her eyes, on the tip of her tongue. he grins expectantly, encouragingly, even. the better the insult, the more he is to like them. but the reaction swings the other way. it earns a laugh out of him nonetheless. ❝ pretty sure nuns are supposed to be over eighteen. ❞ hands entwine, lay across his stomach as he converses with her. ❝ and i'm sorry to say, you don't look a day over twelve. ❞ the grin turns eerily improper. ❝ y'know, some women, they'd kill for those baby cheeks... ❞ a waggle of brows. like he's seen it happen before.

❝ they also don't tend to stink. ❞ bj looks away from her, readjusting, getting more comfortable - a little shimmy of the shoulders, all the way down his lanky body. ❝ you've got death on you. ❞ a beat. a shrug. ❝ like me. ❞ there's no truth in his words, despite his confidence and casualty. it's all shots in the dark, guessing what truly is up with her. but he's perceptive, despite it all; he knows that there's something up with her at all. that's something.

Threats were a common thing to be heard escaping from Viola's lips. It was a tactic she had used in order to survive. It was a pitiful threat. It certainly was rude to say a threat to a stranger, but inside - she was filled with fear. She was afraid of every stranger; did not matter if they were human or a vampire - she was always left wondering if they might harm or kill her. She had to think fast on when was the perfect time to flee before they had the chance to lay their hands on her.

Oh, what a terrible feeling for a vampire to have!

Can't kill what's already dead, kiddo. Those words made her nose scrunch in disgust. Oh great, he's somehow immortal or a ghost. It was no fun to give out threats to someone that was already dead. She would stay quiet, unsure what to say - thin brows knitted together upon seeing how he lounged on that couch. Who the hell sits on a couch like that?! She if she could, she would grab him by the collar of his shirt, and ---

"I beg your pardon?" Now, she blinked, rather quickly as those red eyes looked down at herself - then back at him. You ever exorcised a ghost before? What a strange question to ask! "Do -- Do I look like a nun to you?!" What a strange man he was.

[spectergeuse]

he wants to object to the idea of fitting in. he can play a part, pretend with the best of them, but it's not his usual routine. the idea of being stuffy, boring, and pretentious simply doesn't fit well on him. his nose scrunches at the thought. but he knows, deep down, he doesn't have much of a choice. it's either agree to it - the handshake as binding a contract as any, on this side of the afterlife - or risk having to sit in this attic for only god knows how long. ❝ yeah. ❞ it is a firm, uncompromising sound. ❝ yeah, totally. course. ❞ hyping himself up. ❝ no sweat. ❞ his hands come up, arms come out, convincing himself. ❝ what's a little white lie or two between future in-laws ? ❞ the grin comes, half-real now. ❝ makes it all the more fun when the other shoe drops. ❞ it's chaos, in a way, and he'll take what he can get.

when she holds her hand out for him to take, he stands, straightens out his jacket, sleeves first, dusts off his chest, readjusts the lapels. stalling. building the tension. same difference. his eyes land on the hand. slowly slink up the arm, to shoulder, finding their way across cheek, catching the other's eyes. holds her stare. then, slowly, tilts his head one way, away from her. like he's having second thoughts. ❝ you know what to do, babes. ❞ the smile that punctuates the sentence when his head lolls back to look at her is sharp like a knife.

She doesn't buy his excitement—honestly, she doesn't trust any of his moods. But she's in too deep to back out now. The only card she has left is to stall him, buy herself enough time to figure this out alone. There's gotta be something in that handbook—some hidden rule. Or maybe she could disappear into the dusty shelves of the city library. She has to save herself, and it looks like she also has to save her dad, and yes, even her stepmom. Delia and her horrible friends—adults at their worst—but even they probably didn’t deserve whatever he had planned for them.

"You'll have to blend in with them...play their twisted little game, at least for a while." She knew he’d never do what she wanted if she asked outright, so she leaned into her best reverse psychology. "You know, dress up in their stuffy little costumes. Be boring and respectable. Just for dinner. A few hours. That’s not too hard for someone who says he wants to marry me, right?"

The idea of seducing him was repulsive—she practically shuddered at the thought. But being a little cunning? That she could handle. Offering her hand, she forced herself to keep a steady gaze as she asked, "So? Do we have a deal? You and me?"

[spectergeuse]

the way she moves is graceful, ethereal, even from afar. she fits into the whole aesthetic and feeling of this little chapel just right, hard to ignore in gossamer white and little satin slippers. the perfect juxtaposition to him, in his grave-addled suit and mess of curls. honesty was never his strong suit, but a vague thought crosses his mind, that if he did lie here, he might actually spontaneously combust. ❝ churches and i don't really mix. as you could probably tell. ❞ he swats at the arms of his jacket, trying to go for casual and unbothered as he pretends to dust himself off, even though the longer he stands there, the more agitated he becomes. ❝ i can't imagine i'm actually tethered to this place. or you. ❞ a beat. a realization. ❝ no offense. ❞ and he actually means it.

she approaches with the confidence of someone who doesn't know what she's truly coming toward. when she stops, he is, strangely, unnerved, like he's coming across a figment of a storybook, a little ghost from a thousand-year-old fable. she has had power impressed upon her, power that threatens to tear through him. the one scary thing about humans he could never replicate, their sense of belief. ❝ i'm fine. ❞ it comes off almost defensive. but he's just a little weirded out by her, which is saying something. ❝ hand to god. ❞ he does the two-finger salute straight up. ❝ a real open book. no... wounds or shackles to speak of. ❞ because he can't speak of the curse that keeps him incorporeal. ❝ the only thing you can do for me is summon me into the living world. ❞ the smell kicks back up, the reek of burning earth. he's pushing his luck. ❝ but i don't think whoever you're so devoted to would take too kindly to that. ❞ not that he's not going to try, now that he's said it out loud.

"You... shouldn't be here?" She repeats, wondering if he was some kind of infiltrator... Was he a villain? Was he... trying to harm someone? Or was he as lost as she had initially been? He speaks of fire and that's when she notices the particular, but vague smell... Was he alright? From worry as to herself, she jumped to worry about him.

"I– uh..." What was she doing before he arrived? "I couldn't sleep. I thought maybe walking around might help... or reading a book, but..." She had opted for this option and now, she was here with that strange man. It wasn't like she was complaining, there was something about him that was somewhat compelling. That, or maybe she was just that gullible, or both. Regardless, she raises over part of her dress from the hubris of the ground to walk over to him, stopping just a little closer, raising her head to eye him. She looks from one side and to the other, like a discreet pendulum.

"Are you sure you are alright? It feels like I might be missing something about you. As if you're hiding something or I... simply cannot see it. I'm wondering if it's a wound or a shackle I'm missing. I could help you, I'm sure I could, if you do need it." Hannah stares, eager. "Do you need my help? Could I do something for you?"

[spectergeuse]

she is in front of him, pressing in on his personal space, intermingling hers, touch against jacket and chest featherlight. it's a show of defiance, an attempt to feel powerful in the situation - maybe. taking back the narrative. he can appreciate it, for what it is. his comment breaks the tension, just as he'd hoped. a roll of her dark, defiant eyes, unimpressed, but he knows there's a certain endeared sort of feeling there. it hangs in her tone, every word dripping with a familiar sort of disinterest, one that doesn't quite mask the challenge in the question.

it's easy to ignore the mild jab - being a demon is one of the kinder things he's been called, but that tone takes it somewhere else - when she's left such an opening. whether she did it on purpose or not, how could he not ? there's that half-grin, tilting one end of his features up. it almost looks like a threat. ❝ what can i say ? i'm consistent. ❞ if that's what it can be called. ❝ haven't been around for a millennia without pickin' up a few things. ❞ there's a nasty look in his eye as he looks down at her, maniacal, bloodthirsty. just wanting, for something he is forever cursed to never be able to fully articulate. and then, the surprising happens - he steps away. hands slip into front pockets, too casual, too ready to let it go. ❝ don't know if you'd be able to handle all that, though. ❞ he wouldn't hurt her, never, at least intentionally. but he is goading, really trying to get her to do what he wants.

fingers purposely "walk" up his chest, lightly poking against the well aged fabric of his jacket. she's finding that she's enjoying taking a page from his book. that's what she's telling herself at least. she's going to tell herself that she's invading his space to show him just what he's been known to do.

and cue the roll of her eyes. of course, he'd turn her comment into something pervy. wasn't that just inline of who he showed to the world?

"screaming huh?" a glance is thrown to the bookshelf where her own naughty collection lived. she'd wrote a bit here and there about ghostly prowess, but that was neither here nor there right now. "you think you're just that good?"

was she flirting or was she challenging him?

"of course, you will. I wouldn't expect anything different from a trickster demon."

[spectergeuse]

hearing his name is a thrill, every time, regardless of who says it. both his curse and his ego at work. but he'll never get tired of emily's formalities, her specific brand of kindness. she says his name and it feels like an offering more than a sacrifice. he beams in a way that feels unfamiliar, less manic and more appreciative. as she updates him, however casually, however vaguely, bj strides in, leans onto the upright piano from the other side, looking over it to the bride. he isn't too keen on emotions as a whole that don't benefit him, but he can clock when someone is feeling down. she will share if she is ready. he doesn't find pushing, in this case, to be beneficial, for her, for him, or for the bit.

❝ oh, i've been here, i've been there. ❞ he likes to play it cool, but there's the distinct smell of earth and mortality on him that says he's been upstairs for a little longer than usual. ❝ visiting old friends, making a few new ones, an unsuccessful resurrection or two... ❞ a wave of the hand to fill in the blanks. he wants to look cool, too, after all; can't let her know he's been unsuccessful in being brought back at least a dozen times since last halloween. ❝ any more run-ins with that bastard ex of yours ? ❞ easy to change the subject, easy to deflect. he puts his chin in his hands, props himself up to look on at her, knowing its a sore spot for just about everyone down here but needing to, for once, not talk about himself.

HAND HOVERED OVER LIPS AS SHE GAVE A CHUCKLE . he was always so funny , making her smile in her most melancholic states . he always managed to appear when she was saddened by moments of the past . though she was content in her afterlife there were times she'd run into . . . that man . . . the one who ended her life in her mother's beautiful wedding dress . he was still around , unable to pass on due to --- well --- due to his personality and ego really .

❝ oh , but of course . my apologies beetlejuice . ❞ it always slipped off her tongue --- whether calling him mister or sir . old habits of etiquette drilled into every fiber of her being . she didn't have to be that way around him .

she smiled at him with her primrose lips whilst fleshy digits slid over the silent keys . not playing , but rather simply feelings the smoothness of them . ❝ i've been well . ❞ comes her answer , though her eyes could not meet his now . in truth , she has felt a bit lonely --- watching souls pass through . some stay longer than others but she finds it hard . she gets attached so easily . it's hard to make a friend then watch them move on when she finds herself unable ( or perhaps unwilling ) to do the same .

oh but she doesn't want to burden him with her sorrows . ❝ how have you been ? it feels as though it's been ages since i last saw you . ❞

[spectergeuse]

he can hear it, too, how that anger takes up the space of the words, pushes everything else out. what rage, for such a thing. he understands anger, not quite like he understands fear, but they are two parallel lines. one leads to the other, in many such cases. what causes her fear ? what has brought her to this anger ? he couldn't even begin to wonder. he doesn't quite want to. it leads to other avenues. they need to do something with all this feeling.

❝ there's ways to take care of that, y'know, ❞ bj offers, casual, too casual. ❝ things you can do to make it go away. ❞ he leans over, gently bumps shoulder to shoulder, overtly friendly. offering, even. like he's not talking about fully summoning him and letting him loose on the living world. ❝ things we can do. together. ❞ there it is. ❝ well, i mean, it isn't any of that namaste self-love bullshit, but there's some pretty tried and true methods of mutual destruction that we would both greatly benefit from, ❞ he quickly backtracks, to not give too much of his desire away, to not seem like he wants for anything. the last thing he'd ever want to be perceived as is desperate.

@markhit : “It’s hard to hold this much anger in my body.” , from x

[spectergeuse]

it is a very credible threat - he can see how it sits on her thin shoulders, the weight of the past, commonplace in the line of work he's adopted, even more familiar when thrown his way. she's done it before; she'd do it again. there's just one catch. it pulls at one end of his mouth, too. ❝ can't kill what's already dead, kiddo. ❞ there's so much lackadaisical attitude with the statement, someone might even mistake it for a joke. and it sort of is. he's not taking a bit of this seriously, even though he really should be. the specter simply looks on at her with his dark, glinting eyes. ❝ you're more than welcome to try, though, ❞ he continues, leaning back to lounge like a cat on the fainting couch, yet with feet kicked up on the wrong side, slung over where his head should be. because he always has to be contrarian, somehow.

❝ you ever exorcised a ghost before ? ❞ this, too, is played for laughs, half-attached to their conversation at large. but it is a very legitimate question for beetlejuice, one he asks only to get a real gauge on her and her particular flavor of rage.

@lonelybleds : ❛ touch me, and you're dead. ❜, from x

[spectergeuse]

though she stands tall - all demeanor, he's at least a head taller than her, especially in the shoes - he can hear that familiar twang of feeling the occasional human he runs into carries. it almost goes unnoticed, smothered by the defiance, the exasperation. he got her. got her good. he freaked her out. it makes him laugh. all of it. the situation isn't exactly precarious, but he's really the only one at risk. she's got a title, after all. but then again, so does he.

❝ you think i'd do that to ya, patty cake ? ❞ he's sort of walking, sort of floating, around her, goading. ❝ i couldn't possibly let you leave with even a little bit of integrity. ❞ like he's doing her a favor, making this particular exorcism frustrating at best and difficult at worst. ❝ what kind of bioexorcist do you take me for ? ❞ there's that sideswept, death-slick grin of his. ❝ i know you can do better than that ! ❞ bj drifts quickly to end an armslength and a half away, hands gesturing. he's very animated when he talks. ❝ this ain't amateur hour, y'know. ❞ he pats his chest then, braces himself like a baseball player ready to steal second base. ❝ c'mon, one more go. you're up, babe. ❞ knees bent, hands out, then bending at first knuckles in a little wave toward him.

@markhit : "It'll be a COLD DAY IN HELL when I go out like a fucking chump!", from x

[spectergeuse]

&. 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬 (𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬?) 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  various  dialogue  prompts  to  send  to  your  worst  enemy  (affectionate).  feel  free  to  change  how  you  seem  fit.  )

❛ oh great, it's you again. ❜

❛ you? kill me? that's funny. ❜

❛ for being someone you hate, i'm sure on your mind a lot. ❜

❛ you're the last person i wanted to see, actually. ❜

❛ do us both a favor. stay away from me. ❜

❛ you really are an asshole, you know that? ❜

❛ i'm the asshole? what does that make you then? ❜

❛ sometimes i think you must hate me. ❜

❛ i thought you said you never wanted to see me again. ❜

❛ if you want me to go, then you have to tell me to leave. ❜

❛ well, someone's cranky today. ❜

❛ well, someone needs to shut the fuck up. ❜

❛ just stay out of my way. ❜

❛ of all the idiots in the world, i'm stuck with you. ❜

❛ what is it you want this time? ❜

❛ sometimes i wonder if you're in love with me. ❜

❛ do you honestly think this is easy for me? ❜

❛ why would i ever want to be friends with you? ❜

❛ can we please just talk? ❜

❛ there is nothing for us to talk about. ❜

❛ you can yell at me later. just let me help you. ❜

❛ touch me, and you're dead. ❜

❛ oh, so now you care? ❜

❛ there is something deeply wrong with you. ❜

❛ i know i'm the last person you probably want to see, but... ❜

❛ you don't think we could be friends, do you? ❜

❛ i'm tired of fighting against you. ❜

❛ don't pretend you give a shit about me. ❜

❛ you're an idiot, but... i trust you. ❜

❛ oh, don't be cute. ❜

❛ wait, did you just say that i'm cute? ❜

❛ we're not good for each other. ❜

❛ if i say yes, will you shut up? ❜

❛ don't you have to be stupid somewhere else? ❜

❛ maybe we should kiss just to break the tension. ❜

❛ i'm sorry i can't turn off my feelings as easily as you. ❜

❛ maybe there's a universe out there where we're friends. ❜

❛ how can you be so smart yet so dumb at the same time? ❜

❛ don't think this changes anything between us. ❜

❛ you look ridiculous in that outfit, by the way. ❜

❛ if you die, i'll kill you. ❜

❛ is that a challenge? ❜

❛ ah, so you're not heartless after all. ❜

❛ i don't think i've ever seen you smile. ❜

❛ you never cared about me, so why now? ❜

❛ why didn't you kill me when you had the chance? ❜

❛ i don't even remember why we started fighting. ❜

❛ i don't have time for distractions right now. ❜

❛ you're not as bad as everyone says you are. ❜

❛ enemies make the best lovers, you know. ❜

[spectergeuse]

"do you seriously think you're above the rules" the stupid ones yeah

[spectergeuse]

BEETLEJUICE (1988) dir. Tim Burton