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thevoidstaredback · 26 days

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It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?

Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.

Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.

"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.

Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.

Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.

"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"

Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"

The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."

Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"

Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"

Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."

"Billy."

"No last name?"

"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"

He had to give it to him. "Touché."

Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.

The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.

"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"

Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."

The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.

Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."

"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"

Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"

The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"

The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.

"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.

"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.

"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"

"Magic."

"I guessed that much."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Will you teach me?"

"No."

"You didn't even think about it!"

"Okay," He paused. "No."

"Not fair." he pouted.

Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."

Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"

Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."

"Why not!"

"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."

"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.

Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."

Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"

The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.

"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."

Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."

"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"

Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"

He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."

Part 2 Part 4

(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)

Tag list: @zaiothe4th

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desiacadtales · 9 months

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ꔫ ᵎᵎ intro post

hii everyone, jun this side!! (pronounced j-oo-n)

im starting with visuals/a chaotic mood board since it helps me in acads and the hints of desi studyblr show my general vibe hehe [image credits to its owners on pinterest]

𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘦 ‹𝟹

↬ undergrad

↬ indian

↬ nineteen

↬ she/her

↬ infp

↬ soon to start with my second year

𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘺 ꒰ ꒱ྀི

↬ majors: psych and economics

↬ minor: english literature

𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨?

↬ psych, econ and literature related stuff, reblogs, moodboards and desi shitposting hours are always opened

↬im all about chaotic academia. scattered books, kadak chai by my side, brown noise which doesn't really help, lmao. messy notes, cant get over spiral notebooks, probably never going digital w note making

↬ if possible, ill try to share my realistic [slow] study routine and the syllabus/assignments i could catch up with

𝘢𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨? ⑅ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀

↬well, to put it simply, build my intrinsic motivation and be more consistent irl

↬hopefully, connect with more desi/non desi students and other interesting tumblrinas :)

𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘦

𐀔 ִ 🎞️ ׅ ꣹ ۫ 𖨂

↬ if you recognize the artist in my pfp, then hello fellow mitski stans<3 my toxic trait is being delusional enough to think mitski has signed my adoption papers. ⠀

↬ connect with me through music :)⠀

↬ i have loved to dance ever since i learned to walk

↬ i journal on most days

↬ a lot into astrology and reading birth charts

↬ kadak chai mein meri jaan basti hai

↬ recently started with crocheting

↬ like to read poems more than books:3

↬a very slow reader and an even slow eater

↬ i like to sit in silence for at least 15-20 mins nearly every day, zero thoughts in my brain. weirdly comforting. no, idk if we can call that meditation-

↬ series/movies i love love love: tmkoc- my beloved, FIR, hannibal (nbc), hannibal (trilogy) , girl interrupted, Beetlejuice movie, suspiria (2018), black swan, call me by your name, modern family, the office, bk99, heartstopper, good omens, and the upcoming percy jackson one T_T

↬ special mention for desi cinema: om shanti om, masaan, lunchbox, raanjhanaa, jaane tu ya jaane na, jagga jasoos, cobalt blue, jab we met, kahani, talaash, taare zameen par, the blue umbrella, qala, bulbbul, most irrfan khan movies, barfi, bhool bhulaiya, stree, 3 idiots. and a lot more

↬ studio ghibli, my beloved.

Well, thats the end to the intro post, thanks for staying and reading , stay hydrated jaanis<3

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unagidevi · 6 months

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DREAMSLEEP INTRODUCTION

beetlejuice??? - Tobias Harrison / Toby

me realizing he doesn't dress like beetlejuice or act like him despite being inspired by him.

Tobias is an easily impressed ghost boy. Originally killed by his mother in the past, he was brought back to life as a ghost. He grew up alone in an abandoned house and met Klaus and Mal around his early pre-teens.

He often wears shirts with words on them, doesn't matter what kind as long as the fabrics soft.

He can disappear and reappear and becomes 75% transparent when the night comes around. He is see-through, yes, but he also glows!

Tobias is very used to being around Mal and Klaus, and openly is jokingly flirty and outgoing with them. He soon gets together with Harrow very later in the story, but it's a slow relationship build up.

Toby isn't really open to noting on how people feel and try his best to scare people when he disappears.

He is good to Ccino for the most part, as Ccino provides a safe spot for the Disorder Band

Ghosts in Dreamsleep often can be touched like a normal person, just has a different kind of species thing. They are like normal people but are see-through or have died in a past life.

He's 17 and a half, as his age progresses through the story.

Some doodles/sketches:

#art #artwork #undertale #tobias harrison #digital art #oc art #ocs #my ocs #my art #original character #dreamsleep explanation #dreamsleep tobias

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omarandjohnny · 6 months

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hi! I hope this is ok to ask and please of course feel free to not answer if it's too personal. I look up to your perpetual halloween lifestyle, and i'm also immunocompromised now because of covid. I was wondering if you had any tips or plans for how to celebrate spooky season safely at home, since.. well... it just doesn't seem like going out to a halloween show or something is worth dying, you know? :\ I thought if anyone would know how to halloween party it up at home it would be you.

First off, ALL THE HUGS <33333333333333333333333333

The Plaguetimes have certainly thrown a wrench in the spoopy season for us, that's for sure.

2020 was obviously the most difficult, but my brother and I celebrated by resurrecting an old favorite October activity: Every Saturday is Halloween! We dressed up in themed costumes every Saturday of the month, got together (safely), took pics, and then watched that week's film.

2021 we only dressed up on the day, but still kept the celebration here at home- made a big dinner so it felt like A Real Holiday, and then watched a movie.

2022 we ventured out on a day trip on the 30th, but kept it safe by visiting outdoor locations (we hit up Delavan, WI to take some pics with circus themed statues, we walked through a quiet park to get some autumnal vibes, we did our usual slow drive through a graveyard, and then ate dinner in the car outside a building that looks like a castle)

2023 is going to be more of the same- if it's not raining on the 31st, we're going to get our costumes on and go take some pics outside our local courthouse (they've got decorated pumpkins on the front lawn from a recent fall festival) and then we're gonna try to hit up an location about an hour away to take a few more outdoor shots. If there's too many folks around we'll stay in the car, but if there's little to no foot traffic then I'm gonna try to get my pic taken next to one of these fellas:

As for celebrations entirely at home, having a themed movie night really does make it feel like An Event- we dressed up as aliens for Spaced Invaders night, as Adam and Delia for Beetlejuice night, as Tangina and Kane for Poltergeist night, Fester and Pugsley for Addams Family night.

Even when I've celebrated solo (back when Joelie was younger and more out and about) I've done a themed night. Costume, snacks, some cheap decorations that all fit with the movie- it's simple but it really does bring out the Forever Halloween Kid in me 🎃🖤

If you do end up having a Themed Halloween, I wanna hear all about it! <333333333333

#halloweenies 2023

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hoodoo12 · 2 years

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Couch

The creative well is a little dry but pounding this out (lol) this morning helped.

NSFW, Beetlejuice/f!reader

Enjoy!

You pointed to a spot on the cushions.

“Come sit right here,” you said, in a tone that was a heavier than a question.

Beetlejuice raised an eyebrow and half his mouth lifted in a smile but he walked over without a word. “On your lap?” “Nope,” you replied. “Between my legs.”

You spread your knees, fully aware that the boyshorts you wore didn’t cover you well and if he didn’t see them riding up a little into your pussy, he was looking hard enough. The roots of his hair became a bleeding into a deeper magenta. He saw. “Come on. Oh, and lose the clothes.”

In a blink he was nude and standing with the front of his legs pressed to the couch, between yours. It was easy to read the hunger on his face; he bit his lower lip as his eyes skipped over yourr tight nipples poking at the thin fabric of your tank top, down to the inviting space at your groin. Placing his hands on your knees and leaning forward, making his hard cock drop away from his belly, he asked in a husky voice, “You wanna scoot a little forward, babes? Want me to fuck you while I’m kneeling on the floor?”

You cupped your own tits as you smiled up at him. “Nope,” you repeated sweetly. “Like I said, I want you to sit down.”

You patted the pink velvet cushion you were sitting on again. Taking his waist to guide him, you turned him so his back was to you. You pressed yourself against the back of the couch so he had room to sit, then wrapped your legs over his to keep him in place. Although you couldn’t see the fire now, youo could feel it on your exposed legs. You tucked your arms under his so you could keep him leaning back against you, and began stroking his chest and stomach in random patterns. Kissing the only skin you could reach--his shoulders and just under the nape of his neck--you let him settle in before telling him to reach behind and grab the curved wood of the back of the couch. You could feel Beej’s moment of hesitation. It was unclear exactly what he was thinking so you took his elbows and smoothly lifted his arms as asked. The position arched him a bit and once his hands were on the wood you let his arms go, returning to caressing his front. Eventually your fingers made it to the tops of his thighs. You dipped them to the softer skin on his inner thighs and let your fingernails scrape lightly just to feel a moan begin to build in his chest. You smiled against his back. Removing all but your first finger from him, you drew it up his balls. The sack tightened under the light touch, making you smile again. You dragged the same single finger up the underside of his cock and it bounced against his pubic bone. The moan finally escaped his lips and you laughed a little. You ignored his cock then, going back to caressing his front. You pinched his nipples just to make him suck in his breath, then did it again for another gasp. Beetlejuice rocked his head back as if to kiss you, but you were too buried behind him for any contact. Walking your fingers up his neck to his mouth, you said, “Make them wet.” There was no hesitation at that request. Beetlejuice sucked your fingers as a group and then individually. He licked your palm. You should have set up a mirror so you could see everything that he did and his expressions. Maybe next time. You made sure the webbing between your thumb and first finger was dripping, then you disengaged his mouth and dropped your hand to his cock again. Wrapping your hand around it, you whispered, “I’m going to jerk you off. You’re going to lean back against me and take it.”

To emphasize your point, you tightened your legs more firmly over his and slipped your free arm up one of his to keep him locked into position. With no further warning, you did as promised.

Your hand moved slickly over his cock, slow then fast, up and down then twisting. You tried to mix up your movements to string him along as much as possible; from the sounds and the involuntary spasms he made you succeeded. Beetlejuice moaned and gasped. He trembled and strained against your hold, although the underlying current was that he liked the restraint and only moved against it to keep it tight. When you realized that, you took a hunk of flesh between your teeth too, which made him actually cry out. If you had his ability to throw your voice, you’d have praised and encouraged him. “Your cock is so hard.” “You’re so fucking hot like this, Beej.” “I want you to come on my hand.”

As you didn’t have his trick, you simply moaned with him. He whined at the stimulation. Now he attempted to drive his hips upward, planting the balls of his feet on the floor to give himself some leverage. You didn’t stop him. You released the skin you’d taken into her mouth and whispered, “You want to fuck yourself on my hand, Beej?” Beetlejuice, his hair a mess of brilliant pinks, nodded feverishly.

“Good boy.” With that, you kept your hand wrapped around his cock but stopped stroking him. The next second, Beej did just as you said: fucking your fist in tiny, increasingly frantic pumps. He dropped his head to watch his groin while you kissed away the teeth marks you had left on his shoulder. His movements, unlike yours, began shaking the couch. Since he was still entangled in your legs and not letting go of the back of the couch, you could feel the tension growing in him.

His breath became a raspy groan. Your hand was no longer as slick as in the beginning but that didn’t seem to matter to him; he continued to fuck himself at the pace he wanted. His rhythm became choppy, and if you had your way you would have stopped, just to give him a break so this could continue a little longer. But Beetlejuice was too far gone. With a deep cry, everything muscle in his body tensed like he was going to snap, then in the next moment thick come spurted over your fist. You couldn’t see it, of course, but its cool temperature and the throbbing in his cock as he ejaculated was more than familiar.

He jerked a little, post orgasm. As you let go of his arm, you realized how tightly you’d been holding it when your fingers ached. You murmured an apology as you also unhooked your legs off of his.

Freed, Beetlejuice relaxed against you again for a moment. “Fuck, baby,” he muttered in praise, but quietly, like he was exhausted. “You liked it?”

“It was fucking amazing. You’re the best! I’m going to have to step up my game to repay you.”

“I’m sure you will,” you giggled.

fin!

#Beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #writing #fan fiction #one shot

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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 1 year

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📚🎨

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend? oH MY GOD SO MANY OKAY HOLD ON If you like "beetlejuice keeps on accidently being lydia's dad/weird uncle in various ways" you guys need to be reading Wiz's work I just finished this fic here, which begins in smut and ends in feeeelings, and it was so much fun! shoutout to @livsspecialinterests lastly i still hold out hope Linny will come back and update The Woodpile because BJ's characterization here is so fun, and the slow build up to being allowed to enter back into the Maitland-Deetz house is so satisfying. 🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see? I've gotten some very cool fanart cause you guys are so talented and generous with your time. Honestly put BJ and Lyds in their cowboy duds and I'm gonna be thrilled

#answered asks #THANK U i love rambling on and on as you can tell

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tickle-bugs · 1 year

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Can we get directors commentary on not a house but a home and strange exhilaration please? They stories are so cute and so well written I’d love to hear your thoughts on them

Yes omg!! Sorry this took a bit to answer, I got sidetracked. Thank you for asking!!! Putting these under a cut so i can go ham LOL

Ask for more director's commentary here!

Not a House, But a Home

AHHHH ok ok this was SO fun to write because it's pre-musical Maitlands!! As someone with a deep love for technical theatre, it was fun trying to imagine what the house would be like before the events of the musical. Scenic design is a fun hobby of mine and I love what a set will say about the characters that interact with it!!

Okay so usually when I'm first encountering a prompt/idea, I get clear image of like...the center of the fic? or at least one very specific scene that I can sort of stretch like taffy and build on. The one for this fic was Barbara with the wallpaper! The very first decision I made was that they'd be fixing up the house a bit. It felt in character to me for the Maitlands to literally fix every goddamn thing they could think of instead of like...confronting their mortality LMAO so I wanted to go to a period of their life that felt new and fresh! Also I really love the pastel green wallpaper that they use on the set for the show and I thought it would be sweet if Barbara was the one to put that up. Something something she wears green the house is green something something good luck charm

Then of course the JOKES!! I'm a dad joke connoisseur myself, so it was really fun getting to pick ones for Adam to use. All the jokes in the fic are ones I've used myself, but I looked them up online for specific phrasing. It was really fun getting to play with Adam's delivery actually! To me, Adam has absolutely zero doubt that he's hilarious and will just keep on truckin' until he makes someone laugh. He's so fun to write! He's mischievous and loving and so very white, bless his heart.

I think the core of their relationship is 100% that Barbara and Adam are each other's best friends, y'know? They feel like high school or college sweethearts, or the result of a meet-cute--something sweet and forever-binding. They can't leave Target without buying a million useless things and they take turns either pretending the baby section isn't there or going in and cooing over the little onesies. They slow dance in the kitchen with no music. They have loud, dramatic sing-alongs in the minivan. I think part of that comes from being married/together, but a lot of it is just loving each other's quirks and company.

Also I wrote this in the tags of the og post but I kept making myself laugh writing it by imagining Beetlejuice like...in their walls commenting on the events and such. He's such a wretched little creature I love him dearly. During Ready Set, Not Yet when you see it live, he's bopping around and scatting with 3-D glasses and popcorn literally waiting for them to die it's so fucking funny

Strange Exhilaration

baby's first wicked fic! Wicked will always have a special place in my heart tbh and it was fun bringing back those memories.

This fic was a gift that I whipped up in a couple days, so I didn't sit with it as long as I do some of my other prompts. It was actually nice to do that. It forced me not to overthink what I was doing.

Writing Glinda was a challenge but a welcome one? She speaks in such a specific way but because the show's been running so long, it's basically a new role each time a new actress steps in. I've only ever seen it live once and that was four or five years ago? So it wasn't super fresh in my mind. It was fun trying to reconcile what I remember with what I needed from Glinda. Her vocabulary is everything to me. I stole 'seriosity' (which is a real word but hasn't been used in ages) from Newsies because I had literally just seen it, but the rest were sorta off the cuff!!

okay so first: girlies. jot that down. I love Glinda and Elphaba's friendship and all the tropes that they encompass both together and apart. Whether or not you actually ship it, I do think it's important to write them as if they're a little in love with each other...because they are! I approach the center of their dynamic like this (and I write a lot of deep friendships this way) and it really makes their intimate moments shine ;w;

Elphaba having ticklish hands and Glinda being a teasy sunshine ler were both happy accidents but so fun to write. RIP Elphaba, me too buddy. Hands are mean. But I think it speaks back to their friendship in a sweet way? Elphaba being startled and embarassed by her own softness and Glinda being genuinely 100% delighted by it is so wholesome and true to them, I think. Then of course the reverse of Elphaba allowing herself to be playful and mischievous and Glinda clearly having the time of her life. Ahhhh I love them!!!!

I was fighting for my LIFE not to use 'wicked' or 'bubbly' as adjectives in case it was corny...I think I only did it once or twice each though. I'm so brave.

#director's commentary #SCREEEE #sorry again for the delay but this was so fun i love talking about these things ;w;

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itsaship-literally · 2 years

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I really enjoy Piquancy & Phantasm by BD_Z and GhostlyHauntings on Ao3, cartoon verse. It feels like an old gothic novel. The characters are written in a way that fits the tone. The suspense is so well paced, with a slow build up to an actually satisfying conclusion. And the illustrations are even better. It's a personal favorite of mine.

Anonymously tell me your favorite Beetlejuice fanfic

#fanfic recommendation #ao3 #beetlejuice #lydia deetz #betelgeuse #beetlebabes #piquancy and phantasm #bd-z #ghostly hauntings #venture someplace scary

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tilbageidanmark · 1 year

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Movies I watched this Week #105 (Week 1 of year # 3):

🍿

4 Restaurant films + 3 with John Leguizamo:

🍿 As an ex-chef and as a person who likes to eat, I was looking forward to seeing the new conceptual thriller The menu. Unfortunately, it wasn’t satisfying. As a satire of the 1% foodie class, ‘Triangle of Sadness’ was sharper. As mouth-watering Food Porn a-la David Gelb, (who actually advised the director with hi-rez hi-end fine dining creations), it fell flat. As a wink & nod to Alinea Restaurant’s choreographed tabletop dessert, well, I wish I was able to enjoy it in Chicago instead. Otherwise, like the ostentatious dishes, it felt pretentious and vacuous. Leguizamo plays a washed up movie star. 6/10.

🍿 What ‘the menu’ wished it was, was Jon Favreau‘s sweet Chef, about a father and his 10 year old son who bond on a gastronomic cross country trip in a food truck called The Boss ‘El Jefe’. This was a charming movie that Adora & I watched many times. I believe that as times goes by, this will end up being considered as one of the best food-centric films, up there with Tampopo, Ratatouille, Babette’s Feast, Etc. Leguizamo played the line cook Martin, cooling his balls with corn starch. 9/10.

🍿 Lobster Soup, another slow, enchanting documentary from Iceland. It tells of Bryggjan, a small cafe in a tiny fishing town and the few locals who’s been gathering there for 40 years. The place had slowly become the cultural center of the town. Surprisingly, it was made by a Spanish director. 9/10.

🍿 I never heard of Dinner Rush before, even though it got good reviews when it came out in 2000, and was favorably-compared to other food-porn movies of the past. That Bob Giraldi, the director, was a NYC restaurateur himself, helped the authenticity of the kitchen drama (even though I’ll argue there were ‘too many cooks’). The background story is about some mafia guys trying to muscle in on Danny Aiello, the owner of the restaurant. Vivian Wu played a waitress who looked notably like AOC.

🍿 “… If I die, I’m going to do it stoned, and smiling in my bed…”

Repeated re-watch, American Ultra, a clever action-comedy about an artistic stoner, who’s actually a dormant Ultra super-agent. Jesse Eisenberg is the last person you’d expect to play a ruthless killing machine, so his love for girlfriend Kristen Stewart is the key to this innovative story. Leguizamo played “Rose”, his crazed drug dealer. To be watched while stoned.

🍿

Coraline, after Neil Gaiman’s Gothic dark story for kids. (Clip Above). A nightmarish vision of parallel world discovered by a lonely girl with too-busy parents. I can see why Adora had become obsessed with this story as of yet. Even her accent is similar to Coraline. The stop-motion animation was stupendous too. My favorite discovery of the week.

🍿

So after Coraline, I returned to the earlier Haunted House fantasy, Tim Burton’s Gothic comedy Beetlejuice. Weird and original Disnyfied vision of the after-life. With young Winona Rider and Dick Cavett. The Harry Belafonte’s Banana Boat scene. 4/10.

🍿

3 Titanic-adjacent films:

🍿 James Cameron’s masterful Titanic, first re-watch in 20+ years. Ambitious myth-making saga combining epic romance and maritime disaster. Still gripping suspense, pathos & thrills, played luxuriously with Enya-styled score, and exact skills. 3 hours and 14 minutes long, it is divided into two perfect halves: the first half is building the love, and at 1:38:00 they hit the iceberg. With a continual final shot. 9/10.

🍿 Cameron’s very first short film, Xenogenesis, financed with $20,000 from a local dentist (who backed out after seeing the rushes). An experimental indie sci-fi with the seed concept for Terminator. Very badly done, and it didn’t help that the YouTube copy is very low-quality. 1/10.

🍿 Gloria Stuart was 87 when she played the old Rose in Titanic. She was 23 when she starred in The Invisible Man, James Whale’s brilliant horror classic. 7/10.

🍿

Immersion, a slow, ominous thriller from Chile. A father takes his two grown daughters sailing on a lake. He sees a sinking boat, but because the far-away occupants look 'suspicious’, he turns a blind eye to them and hurries away. The uneasy, suspenseful tragedy that follow reminded me of ‘Straw dogs’, even though there was no violence or assaults present, or a 2021 version of Polanski’s ‘Knife in the water’.

Recommended - but not for me: These types of films fill me with too much anxiety.

🍿

3 delightful shorts:

🍿 Jon Lefkovitz’s In perfect unison - where two characters do or say the same thing at the same time. A supercut using 100+ moments throughout film and television history, set to the tune of TV on the Radio's "Second Song".

🍿 Out of sight, a very cute story in Studio Ghibli style that doesn’t ever mention that the little girl is blind.

🍿 “...Our lower classes are desperately trying to escape the meteor through discount time travel...”

World of tomorrow, still my favorite science fiction film of all times, Genius animator Don Hertzfeldt’s Oscar nominated mind-bending, surreal masterpiece, “One of the greatest short films in the history of movies”. Free to re-watch on YouTube. 10/10.

🍿

In the recent My Next Guest with David Letterman he flew to Kiev and interviewed Volodymyr Zelenskyy at an underground station, in front of a small audience. It’s moving and tragic.

Can’t forget that Zelenskyy came first to prominence on live TV when he played the piano with his pecker.

🍿

Never heard of Andrew Callaghan, a 25-Year-old YouTube ‘Gonzo Journalist’, who just released This Place Rules, a wild documentary about the events leading to the January 6th insurrection attempt. He traveled around the country in his own RV, interviewing the craziest nuts and out-there Nazis, Alex Jones wannabees, toothless soothsayers, foreskin conspirators, and a bunch of Q-anon fanatics as they prepare themselves for the fascist revolution. Unsettling.

🍿

Adam McKay’s first film, Anchorman, a loud, low-brow and obnoxious ‘comedy’, with the always-insufferable Will Ferrell. Old-fashioned sexism geared for young teenage males made this a big hit. One point for coining the phrase ‘That escalated quickly’. 2/10.

🍿

Throw-back to the art project:

Adora on the Titanic.

🍿

(My complete movie list is here)

#movies

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elposting · 9 months

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ABOUT ME ‼︎ ″ she reaches from beyond the grave to make good men her wicked slaves . ″ — 🎧🍇🏹🩰

𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗗𝙐𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 〖 ☺︎ 〗— gail ¸ sixteen ... she & her prns ∷ leo ! enfp + jewish , active but slow to respond to pms

𝗠𝗬 𝗕𝗟𝙊𝙂𝙎 〖 ☘︎ 〗— library & storage / side blog . + liveblogging and reactions & . popularmmos fanblog [ ABANDONED ] 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝙆𝙎 〖 ☯︎ 〗— archive of our own .

𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺 𝘄𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙨 — stranger things . & six ⁺ ride the cyclone ! & . rpf + multifandom old works .

⟢ ₍ ☁️ ₎ ″ 𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘢 : fear street ( 94, 78, 66 ) - saturday night live - stranger things - the office - the good place - barbie - scream - brigsby bear - zepotha - gilmore girls - friends - the tudors - warm bodies - 2012 - only murders in the building - glee - gonchorav - sleepaway camp - heathers - heartstopper - community - the middle - alice in borderland - squid game - inside - groundhog day - ferris bueller's day off - dirty dancing - mean girls - bring it on - dance moms - spree - back to the future ...

⟢ ₍ 🕰 ₎ ″ 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤 & 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘦 : taylor swift - harry styles - clinton the musical - in the heights - beetlejuice - heathers - bo burnham - hamilton - carly rae jepson - sabrina carpender - lana del rey - olivia rodrigo - the lonely island - dolly parton - ed sheeran - billy joel - abba - little shop of horrors - mean girls - bring it on - six - billie eilish - lizzo - marina - penelope scott - faye webster

⟢ ₍ 🕯 ₎ ″ 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘴 : taylor swift, natalie dormer, winona ryder, steve martin, kyle mooney, kristen bell, indina menzel, david harbour, courtney cox, beck bennett, kerry butler, kate mckinnon, matthew perry, phillipa soo, colin jost, cecily strong, olivia rodrigo, lee jung jae, lindsay lohan, monica lewinsky, sadie sink, rainn wilson, angela kinsey, gillian jacobs, bo burnham, jennifer lawrence, ellen greene

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deleteddewewted · 3 years

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Incel!Shinsou x F!Reader fanfic idea (Part 2)

So here we are, Incel!Shinsou is back and this time with a bit of growth that he needs to make independently (While thinking about the reader of course. Thank you so much to @blossominglark for sending in such a lovely message! Also here you can find a small explanation as to why i even started the Incel!Shinsou series.)

"I think I want you. I think you're bad. I think you're good, it's like the love I never had. I think I need you. Oh God, it's true. I think I'm falling and there's nothing I can do" - Beetlejuice Chill by Life After Youth

Part 1: Incel! Shinsou x F!Reader

Part 3: Incel!Shinsou x F!Reader (1/2)

How difficult could it be? To forget that you ever existed... thats what's haunting Shinsou ever since the conversation you two had a few days ago. He cant seem to focus anymore, everything just reeks of you. (His own bedroom where you two would sit on the floor and work on your project together. You would laugh at something that came on the television, every time resulting in his face heating up and heart beating harder at the sound, the beautiful sound, of your laughter. It doesn't feel the same anymore. He cant sit or sleep there anymore.) Shinsou starts speaking with Aizawa more, to be honest its not like Aizawa gave him that much of a choice. He needed to understand what was happening with his son and you in order to help or bring some constructive input.

Shinsou goes on and on about how he mocked you to his "friends". When questioned on his "friends" he said that they were all telling him that you needed to be taught how to be a "proper woman" the "perfect girl for them".

("Hitoshi what-...why would you...?"

"I don't know! It made sense when i was young and- i... i dont understand how or why and...please just- help me i dont understand!"

"It's ok, it's ok, come here." Aizawa hugs Shinsou tightly. He starts running his hand over Shinsou's hair comforting him.

"What did you show them? What did you tell them about...her, exactly?") A mess of tears and regrets, thats what Shinsou is. A puddle which he somehow drowned you in out of a bitter rage that had nothing to do with you.

Aizawa finally holding a grasp as to how Shinsou's mind worked, he couldn't help but feel defeated. He neglected his son so much he became bitter and resentful towards the wrong people, the wrong person. (Aizawa only ever told Shinsou that his mother moved away from them because it was "too much for her". Young Shinsou couldn't grasp why his mom would leave him, but again he never really asked questions since he saw how upset it made his dad. "Dont worry Hitoshi, ill be here for you no matter what. Got it, problem child?") An intervention needs to be made now. To prevent even more damage, to keep his son safe and his sons ex-friend safe.

"Hitoshi? The posts and things you put online, you need to delete everything now." Urgency was a must, damage control needed to happen now. Who knows if Shinsou wrote about where he lived, where you lived and studied at, if he showed those "friends" of his your face. Who knows how much information he put out there to a bunch of strangers about you. "Ok, ok. Let me delete everything...yeah...thats-yeah...makes sense." He's slipping, Shinsou is slipping into a pit of shock and disgust, he needs to fix things and that only starts by wiping away years of miss informed opinions disguised as truths.

Everything is gone. No more accounts. No more pictures. No more you. He didn't make any announcements or even address why he was wiping everything. He didn't answer the piles of questions flooding his inbox about why he was doing all of this, he just didn't care anymore. He couldn't find you either. No account on any platform with any signs of you. (He should have asked for your socials, but knowing where you two started off at he thinks its better that you two didn't. It saved you from his incessant torment he saw himself being capable of.)

Week one came and went. You didn't show up for classes and people started to take notice.

"Does anyone know why y/n isn't at school anymore? Is she sick?" Midoriya asked one day. Everyone kind of just looked at each other hoping that someone might have an answer. Be it that no one other then Shinsou was in the same class as you, everyone in his friend group knew about you since you where always nice despite the way you presented clothing wise. (The clothing didn't matter nor did the labels, you were still so welcoming to everyone. Hell, you even welcomed Monoma and that guy is considered psycho by everyone.) Shinsou couldn't do anything but listen to his friends (Midoriya, Shoto, Denki, Mina, Iida, and Ururaka) go on about how nice you were. How they miss you. He misses you . He ruined this, he ruined your school experience and pushed you to lose the friends you had because of his own ignorance. He forced you to choice between showing up to school and dealing with him or not coming in at all and losing the friends you had because of him.

The Sports Festival was coming up soon, here all the students would compete against each other to show off their skills. The Festival acts more as an opportunity for the different Courses to fight each other since its focus centers on the physical strength and wellbeing of the students instead of their study of focus. It also helps with publicity by letting UA show off their students to the general public. (Shinsou didn't understand why the school would have a Sports Festival. UA was better known for being STEM and Art focused which meant that many of the students only had to take 1 year of P.E. instead of the 3 years other schools required.

"So again, what's the purpose of this?"

"Its just a chance for the different Courses to bully each other, and for the General Course to get mocked." responded Togeike. Be it that she never spent time with Shinsou, they both had a mutual attitude and just stayed away from each other out of disinterest. It wasn't after Shinsou's personality changed did she feel more comfortable being around him and started speaking to him casually throughout the day.

"So what does the Business Course do during-"

"Hey, didn't you and y/n work on that project together?" This caught Shinsou of guard. For the past week its all been about you and how you hadn't been coming to class. (You haunt him even outside of school, the guilts too much for him at times.)

"Yeah...what about it." he snarls. Just because he's changed in appearance and largely in attitude, that doesn't mean he's over the way he treats people. Cant she get to the point already-

"Geez man, i just wanted to ask if you needed her number." That...was off. Why would she assume that he needed your number?

"Why would you give me her number? Don't you think that as former project partners i would already have her-"

"You're clearly upset about her not being here, so shut up. Either take it or leave it, jackass." she bit back. How did she know? Shinsou has always had a resting bitch face which made it hard to read his emotions. How did she manage to figure it out? (God he was an asshole!)

"Yeah, please....i'm sorry. I could-"

"Please shut the fuck up, i don't want an apology from you. Take it and fix this shit. I hate seeing people mope and you're pretty much dying in a pit here." Togeike really gives no fucks and she was tired of the purple haired boy looking like a kicked puppy. She assumed it had something to do with you. When you started skipping class, Shinsou also started to look upset and wouldn't speak that often. It wasn't like Shinsou was shy, he just didn't see the need to speak all the time. So to see him become even more silent was concerning.)

He left school that day with a skip to his step. He has your number! He has a way of contacting you! Yet, he still knew that having your number wouldn't fix anything. You left him alone and it wouldn't be fair for him to barge back into your life without proving he's improving, that he's actually deserving of you're friendship at least....

The Sports Festival.....

He can prove himself to you there....

Everyone will see it, every student at UA has to be there for credit....you'll have to be there. You'll also have to participate for the start of it, so you'll have to interact with someone.

(This was it)

This was so much fun to write! Lets give this a slow build up to give him proper character development and redemption. The next part will be the Sports Festival and what he plans on doing to get you back. Let's set up that his intention is too for one, make an impression on the school for when he decides to transfer to the Art Course but also to make an impression on you and get you to notice him in a positive light. Our poor incel is trying his best ok....

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justsassysworld · 3 years

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Till I Can't Remember My Own Name

Strss has building and building for our dear reader, luckily, they have a very enthusiastic ghost who's more than happy to help relieve some of that tension.

Beetlejuice x reader

Gender neutral reader, rough kisses, bondage, tentacle action, hair pulling, spanking, maybe over stimulation

The door slams behind you as you storm into your home. It's not that your day was particularly bad, but it was another straw closer to breaking the camel's back. Throwing your crap onto the couch, you stomp towards your kitchen, not really knowing what your looking for.

A soft pop is your only warning before a pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist.

"Hey, sweets! How's you doing?" he purrs in your ear. You sink back into him, and lost in his embrace, you realise exactly what you need.

Spinning in his arms, you wrap your hand around his tie. You drag him close, barely an inch separating your lips. "I need you."

A excited grin splits his face, and before he can get out a smart remark you draw him in and pour all your passion into a searing kiss. His response is immediate, arms wrapping around you, one hand in your hair, the other on your ass. You pull back slightly, needing him to understand. "I want you to take me to bed and fucking rail in until I can't even remember my own name."

His hair is glowing pink as he throws you over his shoulder and rushes to your bedroom. He tosses you onto the bed, both of your clothes dissappearing in the brief moments you're air born.

Before your back can come back up off the mattress, he's there. Lightning quick tentacles whip out, wrapping around all of your limbs, restraining you. Your ankles are pulled up and out, leaving you thuroughly exposed. More twisting limbs slither across your torso, two stopping to play with your nipples.

A low moan escapes your throat, but before you can beg for more, a new appendage finds your mouth, slowly probing. Whining, you suckle on the tip.

A light touch fathers against your inner thigh, drawing your attention. Claw tipped fingers drag across the creases between your thighs and crotch. Your back tries to bow, but held as you are, you can't go far.

"Alright, babes," Beetlejuice growls, rising up to hover over you, face to face. "Before I give you what you asked, you gotta be real sure. You're gonna moan for me, once, and I'll go nice and slow, taking my time. Twice, and I'll absolutely wreck you, I'll pound you like nobody's ever done before." His eyes gleam as he stares into yours, hunting for your intent. "Well, sexy? What's it gonna be?"

Not hesitating for even a second, you let out two moans, reminding yourself to ask for the first option in the future.

The tentacle in your mouth pulls back, quickly replaced by Bj's tongue. It's a short kiss, a claiming kiss. When he moves back down, your mouth is once again filled.

Emptying your mind, you force yourself to let go of everything outside of the pleasure that's just starting to build.

Caught off guard, you let off a startled scream when the heat of his mouth suddenly surrounds you. His hands clamp down on your hips, keeping you in place.

It's hard for you to focus on any one thing. Between the tentacle in your mouth, the two others tormenting your nipples, and his mouth, he's already got you out of your mind. And you know this is just the foreplay.

His tongue starts to probe, hand taking over where he had been. You realize this isn't for your pleasure, but that he's prepairing you, getting you nice and slick for what's coming next.

The limbs holding you tense slightly before you're flipped over, knees bent, ass up, hips held in his hands. Your arms are secured in front of you as you feel his hands glide down your back, claws occasionally catching. You flex your jaw when the tentacle is removed.

He folds his body over you, teasing you, his cock rubbing against you. "You sure you want this, babes?" he purrs against your ear. "If you say yes, you ain't gonna be able to walk straight for at least a week."

Waiting for your answer, his teeth and tongue tease your neck and ear, while his evil fingers pinch and play at your nipples. Unable to do much more, you nod your head vehemently.

Obviously, that isn't good enough, because all you get is a quick smack on the ass, and a condiscending, "Uh, uh, uh, you can do better than that. Give me the words."

"Please," you whine, rocking against him as much as you can. "Fucking fuck me already!"

A satisfied chuckle is your only warning before he slams into you. As he leans back to get better leverage, your mouth is once again filled. His hips start to piston with inhuman speed, his claws digging into your hip. You hear him mumbling and groaning behind you, but you really only understand every few words.

Your mind starts to go blank as he pounds into you, but then you feel something slide down your hip and start stimulating you. A muffled whine is your immediate response.

The more he teases, and the faster he thrusts, the closer you get to cumming. but somethings missing.

A sharp slap makes you moan. The next has you trying to rub your thighs together. One more, combined with a targeted thrust and careful stroke, has you crying out, both into the room and in extacy.

Suddenly, there's one hand in your hair, one wraps around waist, and you're pulled up, back plastered to his chest.

Beetlejuice positions you carefully. Legs on either side of his, arms pinned to your sides, fingers replace the tentacle in your mouth. He's got a couple hands on your hips, two more tweek your nipples, and another rests on your throat, a gentle reminder of his control.

He starts to really slam into you, not giving you a chance to calm down, to let the orgasm ebb. Instead, he's amping you back up, and you know your next climax will be earth shattering.

Teeth barely graze your neck, letting you know exactly what's coming next. There's nothing to muffle the soul searing sound that escapes you when he clamps down, right where your shoulder and neck meet. His shout is mostly contained by your flesh as he slams into you two-make that three- times more.

You feel his cum filling you as you melt back against him. A contented sigh eeks out when you find yourself laying across his chest, muscles like jelly and mind completely wiped.

"Sooooo," he starts, pulling you in tight. "What was your name again?"

Giggling, you press a kiss against his chest before angling your face up. "You'll have to tell me. You fucked me silly."

#beetlejuice #musical beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice x reader #gender neutral reader #beetlejuice nsft #sassy writes

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lazuli-bloom · 3 years

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Roses and Styx

Chapter 1 - An Inconvenient Attachment

Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 5365

Sure life wasn’t always easy, it had it’s ups and downs, but you were doing alright for yourself. Mostly. However when you find a strange sight while on your lunch break one autumn afternoon, your life gets all the more unusual.

Archive | Next Chapter

--=--=--

The sun beat down on you, unobstructed by a single cloud in the vibrant blue sky. A pleasant breeze wafted by, chilling the heat of the sun’s kiss. Summer was in its death throes, but stayed determined to linger as long as possible. It gave an odd contrast to the scenery. The blazing warmth of a summer sun illuminating the turning leaves and tombstones on that early October afternoon.

You sat on a stone bench enjoying your lunch in the quiet peace of the graveyard. Most people avoided visits to the cemetery, not wanting to keep the company of the dead. You, however, frequented it. With few visitors and lovely Gothic inspired architecture, the cemetery made a relaxing place for lunch breaks. Plus, it was only a short walk from your job.

While there were benches throughout the graveyard, your favorite spot was one off in the corner and closest to the gate. That day, however, there had been a funeral held in that corner of the cemetery. So as not to impose, you picked a different bench to occupy. You tried to not let your gaze stay fixed on the graveside service, but the task proved to be easier said than done. The funeral repeatedly pulled your attention back to it by partly virtue of being an event you’ve rarely seen.

Many people, dressed in black, all focused on one grave. Most of the figures standing there were adults, but among the crowd were children clinging onto parents. The group was too far to get a proper look at any of the mourners, but there was one that stuck out. A man, slightly broad in build, wore a peculiar striped suit with wide vertical bars in black and white. You noted the clothing choice as strange, but tried not to judge. Perhaps he wasn’t able to get a solid black suit on short notice.

The strange pattern of the suit made it easy to pick him out against the other mourners. He didn’t stay still. He moved around, seeming to want to get other’s attention only to be ignored. The man’s bizarre actions, coupled with the indifference of the crowd, were major reasons you kept glancing back to the funeral.

You shake your head and check your phone, almost two o’clock. Time to head back to work. You grab your trash and get up with a stretch. With one last glance back to the funeral, you find the striped suit man looking back your way. You pay him no mind and check your phone once more before heading to leave.

To wring the most time and relaxation out of your lunch, you amble back to the hardware store. You turn to the next street where brick shops sat side by side. On the corner was a shop with a rounded, sun-faded green awning stretched over most of the front facade. Your eye glanced over the printed “Rose Creek Hardware” in yellow letters for what must have been the millionth time.

The bell above the door chimed as you stepped inside. To your left an older mustached man stood behind the front counter. He wore a light blue button down under a green apron, both tight around his rounder stomach. He gave you a warm smile that you returned.

“Back from lunch already, Cass?”

“Yeah. It’s really nice out today, I can hardly believe it’s October already.”

“Hopefully, when I get the Halloween decorations up, it’ll give things a more autumn feel.”

“Can’t wait to see it, Mr. Turner! Oh, and is Sam still here? Or have they left already?”

“They’re still around. Sam was helping the new hire.”

You nod and make your way behind the counter to retrieve your apron. After you get the strings tied, you do a sweep of the store. You found Sam in the back corner pulling merchandise forward. They didn’t notice you straight away, so you softened your footsteps for your approach. You stayed at their back until they turned enough one way that you could slip around to their side and not get caught in Sam’s peripheral. Once close enough to the shelving yourself, you slap your hands down on a bare spot- “-Missed a spot!”

Sam seized up, grabbing the shelf for support. “Geez, dude! You trying to kill me?” A wide grin breaks across your face. You chuckle to yourself as Sam regained some composure. They took a breath, shot you a glare, and got back to work.

“Heard you were training the new guy.”

“Yeah, he left already.”

“What’s he like?”

“Eh. Kinda boring? White bread personified, if you ask me. Dude came in with a dress shirt and tie.”

You shrug and start helping pull forward items. While turning products to have labels front-facing you continue on with your conversation. “Sounds like all I’ll have left to talk to will be Mr. Turner.”

There was a pause in that moment, and a sting of sorrow poked at your heart. You do your best to smother the feeling and focus on your work. It’s better to cherish the moment. You force yourself to smile and keep your chat going.

“So, there was a funeral today-”

Sam groaned and rolled their eyes at you. “You went to that creepy graveyard again? How are you not haunted?”

“Hey! I told you, it’s close by and usually quiet. I enjoy taking my lunches there. Anyway, there was a funeral and one guy there was in a weird suit with black and white stripes. Kinda like the Hamburglar.”

“I swear. You’re a magnet for the weirdest shit. It’s all those shitty movies you watch that seep into your head. How the hell do you not get nightmares?”

You stay silent and look over the product in your hand as your mind wandered back to your most recent nightmare. Piercing blue dots masked in shadow, watching every move you made. You shake your head to dismiss the thought.

You huff out a small laugh. “Guess that stuff just doesn’t get to me.”

“Whatever. Just don’t let any of your weirdness rub off on my cat.”

You press your lips into a tight line and tap your finger against the pliers in hand. “You sure there isn’t anywhere else he can go?”

“Cassie, I already told you I checked.”

“I’m just worried. I don’t think this is a good idea. My apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

“It’s just for two weeks. I’ll pick him up on the sixteenth. Hell, that’s not even a full two weeks, just thirteen days. You’ll be fine.” Sam finished with their side of the aisle and took a step back. “When do you want me to drop him off?”

You breathe out through your nose and make a noise somewhere between a hum and a groan. “Seven should be alright. Donna’s always heads out to the bars on Saturdays, so it should be clear by then.”

“You need to lighten up and not worry so much. Maybe a cute roommate is exactly what you need.”

You don’t give a reply and go back to work. The two of you split off and start tackling other sections of the store. Time marched on, and all too soon, Sam’s last shift ended. Mr. Turner bid them a farewell with a handshake and handed Sam their last paycheck. You give them a small wave and focus back on your task. You knew full well you were going to see them later that night, so you didn’t see the point of having a drawn out goodbye right then.

Once Sam left, the rest of the day dragged on slower than a sloth on crutches. When there weren’t any customers needing help, you talked with Mr. Turner. It gave you something to do, sure, but time still crawled.

That day was one of the worst kinds you can have in retail. The kind that’s just slow enough you bored out of your mind, and peppered with enough customers that you couldn’t slack off and dick around on the store’s desktop. It’s like they coordinated to space themselves out to be the most annoying.

As grueling as it took to get there, five-thirty eventually rolled around. You and the boss took the last half hour to close the store. Sweep, wipe down the counters, count the till, all that good stuff. You were in the middle of dusting when Mr. Turner handed you an envelope. You thanked him and opened it to count the bills inside. Five whole Benjamins. With another thanks, you move the bills into your wallet and get back to dusting.

Once all finished, you headed out, followed by your boss. He locked the front door and walked with you around the side to the small parking lot. He hopped into his old pickup while you climbed into your little junker. The bucket of rust masquerading as a car was on its way out, but you planned on getting every mile out of it you could. Mr. Turner had driven off by the time you coaxed your car into starting. The car sputtered and hissed, but you got the clunker going.

The drive to your apartment complex was as mundane and silent as ever. Your only option for music was to sing it yourself, since the previous owner had beaten the hell out of the radio. CDs weren’t an option either as the owner before the last had stuffed the disc slot full of cookies. For what reason remained a mystery.

You drum your fingers on the steering wheel as you drove, watching familiar sites go by as you neared your apartment. Nicer well-kept buildings and streets slowly turned to the more rundown variety. The street grew more broken and in increasingly desperate need of repairs as you went.

Building after building, you passed by until finally it was time to turn off. You pull up to your complex’s parking lot, just as run down as the roads leading to it. Two buildings sat facing each other, both in contest for which one can be the most rundown. Your building nudged ahead of its twin with the recent addition of graffiti marring the exterior.

You park in your designated spot, managing to not bump up against the two cars encroaching on your space. You worm your way out without adding anymore dents to the black sedan, and head to the complex’s front door. Standing near the door with a cigarette between clawed yellowed fingers was a scrawny older woman with a perpetual sneer on her wrinkled face. Cold steel eyes narrowed at you as you dared to approach the harpy.

“Hi Donna. How are you?”

“Parker! Where’s the rest of your rent?”

You force a smile to mask the spike of irritation. This harpy is going to be the death of you. You clear your throat to help prevent your ire from bleeding out into your tone.

“Right here, Donna. I get my pay on Saturdays.”

“Not my problem. Rent is due in full on the first. Today is the third.”

“I tried paying you last Saturday, but you-”

“The first, you stupid child. Not Before. Not after.”

“Yes Donna, I know. I’m sorry, I needed to replace a flat tire an-.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. Just pay the rest of your rent and get out of my sight. You worthless leech, can’t even follow basic instructions.”

You press your lips into a tighter line to keep yourself from screaming at the horrid bat. It was best to bite your tongue and get the interaction over and done with as quick as you could. You pull out your wallet and hand over four bills. It was nice while it lasted.

Donna snatched the money from you and promptly counted it. Once satisfied, she took a long drag off her cigarette. She ordered you to leave while smoke seeped out of her mouth like a dragon.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You hurried off to your apartment, climbing the stairs to the second floor and making a beeline for your door at the end of the hall.

You shut the door, leaning against it and breathed out a deep breath. After calming yourself some, you set your keys on the counter by the door and step further into your little abode.

You make your way back to the small living room and crash on the dingy brown love-seat, tossing your phone onto the stained coffee table. You lean back and stare at the ceiling. A boring white painted over heavy popcorn texture, collecting all kinds of dust. You close your eyes and let your mind wander, wanting to squeeze some relaxation time out of the rest of the day. Too bad your phone rang.

Sam called to tell you they were on their way with the cat. You told them to be careful and not let Donna see them on the off chance that she hadn’t left for the bar yet. Sam, however, brushed aside your concerns and told you not to be so worried. You pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned at that. Sam wasn’t the one that had to deal with Donna and hopefully never will.

It wasn’t until a long while later that there was a knock at your front door. A quick check through the peephole showed you Sam was on the other side with a backpack and pet carrier. You open the door and hurry them inside. Sam stepped in, stopping in the space between the kitchen and living area, and looked over the place.

“Wow. This place is shitty.”

“Thanks, hadn’t noticed.”

Sam set the carrier down on your couch, and the cat inside growled in a low tone. Sam took off their backpack next and handed that one over to you.

“Here’s all of Rigel’s things; food, bowls, litter box, toys. I’ll be back in town to get the last of my stuff on the sixteenth, and I’ll pay you then.”

“I thought we agreed half now and half when you got back?”

“It’ll be easier to just pay you all at once.”

You drum your fingers on your thigh and let out a sigh. “Alright, fine. It will be nice to get two hundred dollars all at once.”

“See! You fuss over the smallest things.”

You change the topic by offering Sam something to drink but they declined. Sam still needed to pack up a few more boxes before the end of the night. You nod and give a small wave goodbye, only for Sam to pull you into a hug. Your muscles tense up, but you did your best to return Sam’s sudden hug.

There was a unique funk around Sam that made the hug even more challenging to bear. An overly strong lavender tried and failed to cover some mix of sweat and burnt coffee. Sam left shortly after, telling you to just call them should you need anything. You nodded and waved them off.

Once they left, you turn to Rigel stuck in his carrier. His hissing got louder the closer you got to the carrier, and was full on slashing at the front when you reached down to open it.

You recoil and let him be for the moment, choosing to set up his things in the bathroom instead. While your bathroom was on the smaller side, it seemed big enough for one cat to stay in. You pack up all the various toiletries that a bored cat might knock down and set out Rigel’s things. Litter box in the corner across from the shower stall, while his food and water were against the opposite wall between the door and the sink.

With that set up you go get the carrier. You did your best not to jostle it too much, but Rigel wasn’t pleased and let you know. He let out some of the most chilling demonic screeches as he knocked against the fabric carrier, desperate to break loose and slaughter you. You set the carrier down in the closet, closing one of the bi-fold doors so he had a dark corner to hide in. You braced yourself with a few steadying breaths before swiftly unzipping the front. Once open, you pull your hand back and leave the bathroom completely, making sure the door shut behind you.

You did your best to salvage the rest of your night, enjoying your cup of noodles while watching a movie. It was a B-Movie slasher about a supernatural being going on a killing spree in Las Vegas. And this somehow led to the being going to space in the next film. Overall, it was pretty cheesy, but got a few laughs from you.

Soon you had to wrap things up and head to bed. You sneak into the bathroom to swipe your toothbrush and clean them at the kitchen sink that night, and probably for the next two weeks. With a yawn and a stretch you change into sleepwear and crawl into your bed.

Sleep didn’t come to you easily, but it wasn’t a night full of endless tossing and turning, either. The rest you got didn’t feel like enough, as the buzzing of your alarm woke you too early for your liking.

You sat up rubbing your eyes and checked your phone for the time. The small screen on the back of the thin flip phone showed the time was seven o’ two. You heave out a sigh and pull the warm covers off.

While your body went through the motions of your morning routine, your mind wandered back to the images you saw in your dream. An island floated in the middle of a dark ocean with storm clouds rumbling high above. The cold wet sand pricked against your bare feet like needles, yet you kept on walking. You had found yourself on a rickety dock at least fifteen feet above the violent waves below. There was nothing around you, but you knew you weren’t alone. Down below, lurking beneath the water, two hungry orbs of blue glared up at you, waiting. Expecting. When you didn’t move from your perch, the beast thrashed at the pillars of the dock. You lost your footing and tumbled down to the abyss.

You shook your head, forcing your thoughts to jump back to the present. Chills ran down your spine as the nightmare crawled around in the back of your mind, clawing its way forward. You stuffed it as far back as possible and carried on with your morning.

You soon were out the door and on your way to work. You grip the toilet paper wrapped over your forearm, letting the lines of blood soak into it so it can better rest on your arm. Rigel had given you a few nasty scratches when you got him fresh water, the ungrateful bastard. At least there’s a first aid kit at work.

The bell above the door chimed as you looked at the time on your phone. The damn cat almost made you late for work. You make your way to the back room to grab your apron, only to bump into a man turning the corner. It took a second to get your bearings and notice you ran right into Mr. Turner.

“Oh shit. Sorry, sir.”

He laughed and waved you off. “Morning Cass, see you’re in a hurry.”

“Ah- no, well, kinda. I hit every red light getting here and-”

“You’re fine, don’t worry. No need to rush. Just get your apron and I’ll introduce you to the new guy.”

You nod and scurry back to grab the green apron. It hung by itself on the hooks, speckled in paint and smudges. By that point the thing was overdue to get tossed and replaced, but the same thing would end up happening to the next apron.

You throw it on and tie it behind yourself before going out to the sales floor. Mr. Turner stood next to a man younger than himself but older than you. The boss was the first to notice you and gave another wave. “There they are.”

The new guy turned and flashed you a wide smile, showing off straight white teeth in a hollow smile. Tamping down the disquiet, you force yourself to offer a smile in return. The man strode up to you and held out a hand. “Great to meet you, I’m Brandon! Mr. Turner was just telling me how great of a worker you are-” He squinted at your apron before going back to that fake smile- “Art. Interesting name.”

“Thanks,” you said, and hesitated a moment before taking his hand for a brief shake. On contact that strange buzz of discomfort shot from your palm through the rest of your arm. Once your hand was free, you fight the urge to rub off the non-existent traces of him. There wasn’t anything there, nothing real, and you knew that, but more than anything you wanted that feeling gone and the only way for it to leave was to brush it off. Why did people have to insist on handshakes, just needless physical contact with strangers? It’s stupid, and you hated it.

For the first half of your shift the boss had you go over the day-to-day tasks with Brandon. There were few customers in the store that Sunday morning, so you mostly had the guy pull forward merchandise and clean some shelves. Brandon did the tasks, but they all came with questions. Most of the questions were mundane things about the products stocked, store hours, and what times saw the most customers. The problem came when Brandon veered his questions towards you personally.

“So, is Art short for anything?”

“Artemis.”

Your answer was short and pointed. You already didn’t like that he was the type to read name tags over asking for someone’s name.

“Interesting. So you from around here?”

A shiver shot through you, and you’re quick to stop that line of questions. You ignore the question entirely, instead cutting in to tell him to finish front-facing the aisle while you go check on Mr. Turner.

The day dragged on until finally getting to your lunch break. Brandon, thankfully, caught on that you weren’t one to disclose much about yourself to a new face. However, that didn’t make the morning smooth sailing. You grab your lunch and speed off to the cemetery, eager to get a break from Brandon.

Your usual bench was free, and you took your place to enjoy lunch. Munching on your meal, you take in the sights, finding a serenity in the quiet. The sun shined brightly, causing some of the glossier headstones to reflect the rays. You hum to yourself and scan over the graveyard. To your surprise, you spotted someone in the far corner opposite you. Your brows furrowed, perplexed by the other. You watched the figure, curious of what they’re doing.

They wandered from gravestone to gravestone, kicking at the earth with hands stuffed into pockets. The build of the figure suggested a man, and one dressed in monochrome. You squint your eyes at them making sure you weren’t mistaken; but no, that was the same bizarre suit you saw a man wearing the day prior.

You keep your gaze fixed on him, wanting to figure out why he might be here a second day in a row visiting completely different graves. Did the man simply like to visit graveyards and have a limited wardrobe? If so, you didn’t want to comment on the matter out of fear of shattering the glass house.

You ate lunch with glances at the man. You wanted to piece together why he might be there. He wasn’t mourning; he moved from one grave to the next as if searching for something. The man in the weird suit went down one row of graves, heading away from you, only to hit the end and turn back for the next row.

You forced yourself to not look at him for fear of getting caught. But your curiosity burned, and you chanced a look up. He didn’t notice you, too engrossed in whatever he was doing. Embolden by that, you continue to munch away at your food and sneak glances at him. That is, until you swallowed wrong and went into a coughing fit.

You got your breathing under control a minute later and checked to see if he noticed. And oh boy, did he notice. The man was staring straight at you. It was awkward enough to get caught looking, but you noticed the man closing the gap between you two. He was still at the far end with well over two hundred feet between you, but you didn’t want to stick around and have that plummet to single digits.

Nope. You scoop up your belongings and speed-walk straight back to the store. You didn’t even chance a look behind you. Eyes forward and keep moving. You weren’t sure if he was actually still following; you didn’t hear any footsteps behind you. So that seemed like a good sign.

You blew past the door, bell violently chiming, and you made a beeline for the back. Your heart pounded against your ribs, wanting to break free and make a run for it. You take quick breaths, forcing the next to be longer than the last to get yourself to calm down. In the middle of collecting yourself, Mr. Turner walked into the back area with worry knitted on his brow.

“Cass, you alright? What’s wrong?”

“Is there a man in a striped suit in the store?”

He gave you a puzzled look, but left to do a sweep of the store. He came back half a minute later, shaking his head. “No, no one’s in the store dressed like that. What happened?”

“Nothing really. I just saw him in the cemetery and it looked like he was starting to follow me.”

He frowned. “Well, you just come to me if any creep is giving you a hard time. I’ll knock his teeth out for you.”

You manage a smile and nod. You take a few more breaths to calm down before you grab your apron. Things were going to be okay. The guy might not have even seen what store you went into. Heck, that guy probably didn’t even leave the cemetery. And even if he did, Mr. Turner was there to help you out of a tight spot. You smile a little brighter and step out onto the sales floor where you see the stripe suit guy looking at paint chips.

A strangled scream catches in your throat. You step back, dipping back into the employee’s only area of the store before he could see you. What the Hell were you going to do now? You couldn’t hide back there all day.

You push aside the fabric curtain dividing the sales floor from the back, and get a look at the man. With him much closer, you could see his green hair and the distressed look of his suit. He leaned forward, looking over the paint colors. Maybe he didn’t know you were back there. If so, you could wait in the back for a few minutes for him to just leave.

You close the curtain and slip your hands into your apron pockets. Your fingers brush over cool metal, and your thumb flicks up the slider on the side. It wasn’t much, but it was certainly better than nothing. Box cutter in hand, you look back out.

The stranger stayed put in front of the paint colors. You take a shallow breath, prepping yourself to go out. In the middle of psyching yourself up, you see Brandon wander over to the paint section. Hope bubbles up in you. The new guy can take care of him for you.

Brandon scanned over the section. He pushed down some color chips, looked over the desk before looking your way.

“Art! There you are.”

Brandon’s voice bellowed in the small store, not only earning a squeak from you but also causing the stranger to turn and look. You yank the curtain closed, hoping the man in the monochrome stripes didn’t get a good look at you.

Brandon parted the curtain a moment later and looked you over with knit brows and lips in a thin line. “Art, what are you doing back here? I don’t think it looks very professional for an employee to skulk around in the back all day.”

“The guy over at paint followed me from the cemetery.”

Brandon raised a brow at you. “There aren’t any customers in the store, and certainly not in paint, I would have seen them.” He pulled open the curtain with a flourish to reveal the man standing just on the other side. “See, no one’s there.”

Your eyes dart between the idiot holding back the curtain and the green-haired man tilting his head some with a grin plastered on his face. Thought processing came to a crawl as you tried making sense of what you were seeing. Your gaze lands on Brandon in the end.

“You don’t see anyone there?”

He rolled his eyes and looked back out to the sales floor. He then looked back at you with brows knitted further. “No, there’s no one there, Artemis. Perhaps you should stop taking your lunches in the cemetery if they’re just going to put scary thoughts in your head.”

Brandon frowned at you before stepping out onto the sales floor, going right through the man in the striped suit. He stopped to shiver, only to keep walking a second later. Once he left, your wide eyes landed on the man still standing there, still grinning and showing off sharp yellowed teeth.

“Hi there!”

Nope. Nope nope nope. You grab your box cutter and pull it out to point at the guy. And without a word you push aside the curtain more and go around the man. The man whined at your action and followed you.

“Come on babes! Don’t ignore me, I know you can see me!”

You keep walking, heading straight for Mr. Turner. He turns to you at your approach and the small smile fades from his face. “Cass? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The gravelly laugh behind you sent shivers down your spine. You did your best to shake off the feeling and forced a smile.

“I’m not feeling too good. I was hoping I could go home early today.”

His lips sink further into a frown, but he gave you a nod. “It’s fine by me. But what about that man you were talking about that followed you from the cemetery? Are you going to be okay?”

The man behind you continued to laugh. You tighten your hands into fists, the metal of the box cutter pressing hard into the flesh of your hand.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay Mr. Turner. See you tomorrow.”

He nodded, and you handed over your apron while keeping the box cutter in hand. You offer one last quick goodbye and head out the door, the bell only chiming once. You march down the sidewalk and hear the strange man continuing to talk.

“So, babes, where are we heading?”

You pause at your car door. You take a few quick breaths and finally respond to this... person. “I’m going home. I’m obviously not feeling well and seeing things that aren’t there.”

You slip into your car and promptly lock all the doors. You heave a sigh and lean against the steering wheel as your brain sorts through all this nonsense. A groan rumbles in your throat and you lean back in your seat. In your peripheral, the man in the striped suit sat in your passenger seat sporting a sharp grin. Well shit.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #musical beetlejuice x reader #roses and styx #my writing

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yankyo · 3 years

Text

ouji - part 1

Rewrite of a request that was made a long time ago

Reader is trans male but is referred to in gender neutral terms

No real warnings but you know this will have smut

This wasn't a good idea, that was a fact you knew fairly well, but still you found yourself sitting in the middle of an old, decrepit house anyways - an ouija board sitting in front of you of you. Rumors about the strange happenings in this old house had spiraled through the small town, strange voices, shadows dancing on the walls, and there was sightings of something still lurking within these decaying walls, but there was no real proof of anything... and, well `the mystery was just too intriguing to stay away from. So, there you were, feeling stupid but determined at the same time. Nothing to do, but get to it, you thought, so, you sat back, sucked in a deep, albeit trembling breath and reached for the planchette. You knew you were breaking one of the most important rules of the ouija board: never use one alone, but who else would come with you? Already the town had all but rejected this old house and there was already talk of destroying the old place and building something new before the dust could even clear - this would be your one and only chance to find out if the rumors were true and what wandered these halls.

"Is anyone there?" You asked, your voice echoing through the empty room. For a moment, all was silent, all was still, before a cold breeze blew through the room, making you shiver. "H-hello?" You swallowed hard, trying to force the tremor from your voice, but even you couldn't hold back the squeak of surprise as the planchette began moving on it's own. The wooden planchette floated from letter to letter, slowly but surely spelling out a single word ‘W A S S U P’ you snorted, unable to stop yourself from laughing, so there really was something here! "Well hey there." You whispered, "who am I speaking to?" The planchette began moving once more, the wood having a strange, almost electrical feel to it now, ‘M E’ A spirit with a sense of humor. "Who are you?" You tried again. ‘G H O S T W I T H M O S T’....ok? What did that even mean? Despite everything you laughed again, a smile spreading across your face. "You're a strange one." ‘U R H O T’. Oh god. It was flirting with you now, what was even happening here? In your bewildered silence, the planchette began moving once more, and it was all you could do to just follow it with your eyes. ‘U S H U L D S A Y M Y N A M E’... huh? "What is your name?" The question was barely out before the planchette was trembling with excitement mere moments before it flew from your grip and began flying over the board far too quickly for your eyes to follow. "Whoa, whoa, I can't read like this, you've gotta slow down!"

This should be the part where you ran in terror, should be the moment where maybe you thought that this was just the dumbest idea and got the hell out of here before something bad happened, but curiosity was just too strong to ignore "B....E....E....J....F...U...?" You read the letters aloud, bewildered. The planchette was flung down by the invisible force in what seemed like irritation. ‘F U K C A N T S P E L L’ You couldn't have stopped your laughter if he tried, giggling uncontrollably at the absurd situation. ‘N I C E L A U G H U R T O C U T E’ "Thanks. I try," maybe you fell asleep in the old house and this was just some weird dream you were having? This couldn't be real right? "Do you want to give your name another try?" The planchette moved over the word 'yes' and circled it three times. "Ok, let's give this another go." You reached out once more, placing the tips of your fingers on the planchette again, though this time the wood felt strangely warm to the touch ‘B E T E L’ You mouthed along to the letters , his head tilted slightly. Something about the spelling was familiar but you just couldn't place it. The planchette ripped itself from your touch, flying towards the wall, where it embedded itself into the old wood, carving out a shape now.... you didn't even think the edge of the planchette was that sharp. The symbol was crudely drawn, but seemed to be an insect of some kind, something with six legs. "Uh... bug? Ant?" You thought about what it had been trying to spell before clapping your hands together. "Beetle" the planchette flew back to the board to hover over 'yes'. "Your name is Beetle?" It flew to 'no' before hovering over the number one. "Beetle is the first part of your name?" It flew to 'yes' "alright, what's the second part?" The planchette hovered over the board, as if in contemplation before it came towards you, stopping inches from the bottle by your side . Ok, maybe bringing along wine coolers hadn't been the smartest idea, but it wasn't your fault that you needed just a little bit of liquid courage, right?

"Uh alcohol?" 'No', "Booze?" 'No', "it is a drink of some kind, right?" 'Yes', "alright um. Wine, Soda? Juice?" It flew to 'yes', circling it. "Beetlejuice?" The planchette leapt in excitement, still circling 'yes'. "Beetlejuice." What an odd name, the planchette moved over to the number one, "what?" It jolted, the movements jerkier now as it slid to the number three. "I have to say it three times?" ‘R O W’ "Three times in a row?" Back to 'yes'. For the first time, you found himself hesitating. Was this really a good idea? Sure it didn't seem bad, but that was just now. You could be summoning any manner of demon and be eviscerated just for being stupid. The planchette moving again caught your attention, ‘P L S’ it spelled out slowly now, the wood seeming to tremble ‘B E G O O D’. "Are you saying you'll be good or asking me to be good?" It moved over to 'yes', making you snort in amusement. Fuck. You were really going to do this, weren’t you? This was dumb. Incredibly dumb. Who just summoned the ghost, demon, spirit, whatever the fuck this was just because it asked? Apparently you did, you guessed. "... Beetlejuice... Beetlejuice... Beetlejuice." An explosion of green smoke filled the room, making you cough and jump back, though you didn't get far before he collided with something soft and whirled around to find a figure grinning at him.

"Well hey there, babes, took ya long enough," a gravelly voice greeted you, glowing green eyes shining in the dim light, sharp teeth inches from your face. Looking at this figure, you did possibly the only smart thing you had done all night: you ran. But despite his quick retreat, he found himself unable to move his feet. A cold presence wrapped around your body, solid but invisible, leaving you to do nothing but just hover there as a figure stepped from the smoke, brushing off a ragged and torn suit. “Where’d ya think yer going all of a sudden?” The gruff voice asked - truthfully. “The fun hasn’t even started yet!”

#Beetlejuice #beetlejuice smut #Yan writes #beetlejuice x reader

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hoodoo12 · 4 years

Text

Panicked

NSFW. Musical Beetlejuice/f!reader; anxiety attack, comfort, soft smut distraction @turtlepated, @thewolfisapartofmysoul @janitor-boy @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @angelicspaceprince

Enjoy! ~

You were burrowed here, hidden away like a mouse. It was dark and quiet but you were hyperalert. You could hear your own heart pounding wildly in your chest, in your ears, and you were breathing through your mouth like you’d run a mile. You were frozen but your hands were shaking hands were shaking, and you just wanted to curl up so tightly you wouldn’t be seen.

The sound of the bedroom door creaking open made you cower, which made the panic worse. You bit your lip to keep from crying out, because then you’d be found, then you’d be discovered--

Someone stepped closer to the bed. Now, near you, the mattress shifted as they sat down. Something snaked under the dome of blankets you’d cocooned yourself in for protection.

Reflexively, you struck out.

Your wrist was caught and you sobbed wordlessly.

“Baby?” Beetlejuice’s gravely voice asked, somewhere outside the blankets.

You were held captive by the panic in your head, but that voice and his hand grasping you was something solid on the slippery slope of fear you were standing on.

Beetlejuice didn’t turn on any lights. He was a specter, and didn’t need them. He kept hold on your wrist like a guideline and tunneled his way through your defensive blankets. Even under the covers he could see the mess you were: sweaty face, tear streaks on your cheeks. Your gaspy little breaths filled the tight area with sound. Every muscle in your body was stiff, frozen in a fight-or-flight struggle.

He immediately loosened his grip but didn’t let you go. He kept physical contact with you, intuiting that if he released you completely the chances of laying hands on you again were slim; you’d either fight him tooth and nail or cower away in deeper fear. So he carefully opened his hand hand but slid it up your arm, to your shoulder.

You wanted to push him away, wanted to flail and scream and hide, hide, hide--

--but you’re weak as a kitten and can’t.

There’s still the panic of course. Sharp, endless panic, pricking you. Your tears hadn’t stopped and in these close quarters, the air feels heavy. You’re compressed by it.

Beetlejuice pulled you in tightly. His body was soft and surprisingly good at wrapping you up, surrounding you with a coolness that is refreshing in the heat you’ve generated in this cave. He held you close to his chest.

The buttons on his jacket dug into you. It’s a minor discomfort, but it added to the negativity your brain is feeding you, and you squirmed. It only took him a moment to realize what this new problem is, and in the next second everything potentially harsh or abrasive on him was gone.

You too, you realize. You’d been hiding here in your street clothes, a hoodie and jeans, but now they had disappeared. You were pressed skin to skin against him, with only underwear between you.

“Baby, focus on me,” Beetlejuice murmured.

He didn’t say more than that. He didn’t give you any other words to focus on, no guidance, you’re still left swinging in the wind grasping at anything to ground you--

His hand, cool and soothing, caressed the side of your head. He twined his fingers into your hair and gently put pressure on you to relax your neck muscles. You wanted to resist, your body told you needed to be ready for action, for escape--

The pressure is gentle but relentless, and you gave in. The side of your face, damp and hot from tears, rested on his chest. He doesn’t remove his hand, but stroked your hair.

“Focus on me,” he repeated. He still doesn’t give you any more direction.

There’s a maelstrom of panic swirling in you, making you shake; you can’t catch your breath, you’re still so beyond reason--

Under the ear pressed on Beetlejuice’s chest, there’s nothing.

He’s a ghost, a small voice in your head reminded you. He doesn’t have a heartbeat.

That’s . . . nothing like what you’re experiencing. Your heart felt like it wants to be free of you, it’s racing so fast, but in his chest, it’s quiet.

That’s . . . soothing.

Focus on me, he told you.

You do. You strained to hear anything inside him, but there is no pulse. No exchange of air in his lungs. No pops and gurgles from his digestive tract.

Focus, focus.

When your mind slows a little, soothed by the calm inside him, you start to notice other things too. His skin is cool and mostly smooth, but you can feel the hair on his belly, softly abrasive against you. Same as the scruff on his chin, where it’s pressed against your forehead. He smells of damp earth, but it’s not unpleasant.

He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t need to. He continued to pet your hair softly, allowing you to relax, until your sprinting heart slowed and your panic dissipated.

Him laying beside you, keeping you close, helped ground you. It helped chase away the threat your brain tried to tell you was reality. His presence became a refuge; he lulled you back into security.

When he finally feels you relax, he kissed your forehead.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

You do, but you don’t. You managed an odd hybrid of a nod and a shake of your head. He waited.

“It was just too much,” you croaked out. Your voice was as rough as his, after all the crying. “There were too many people, and I couldn’t breathe, and-and, it was like a big hand came and pushed me down. Just pinned me there, and there was so much noise and I couldn’t get away--”

You gulped as tears burned your eyes again.

“--and then I ended up here. I don’t even remember how I got here!” You tried to make the last part of that a joke, saying it with a little chuckle, but it wasn’t funny.

Beetlejuice didn’t tell you meaningless platitudes. He didn’t tell you that there was nothing to fear, that it was all in your head, that you were fine. He simply continued to hold you. He did stop petting your hair, but replaced it with long, sweeping strokes down your body.

“You can call me, baby,” he reminded you. “You call me, and I’ll be there. I’ll get rid of all the breathers too close to you, if you want. I’ll clear a stadium if that’s what you need! I’ll spirit you away from all of it. Whatever you need, baby.”

You nodded; you knew that.

He pressed his lips against your forehead again, before dipping his head lower to ask against your mouth, “What can I do for you now, baby?”

You shrugged a little.

“Can I kiss you?”

He was so close he was practically kissing you anyway. You whispered that would be nice, and his mouth was on yours, softly.

He wasn’t demanding or harsh. It was a kiss to continue to relax you, a gentle waxing and waning. He stopped before you needed another breath.

When he pulled back, you followed him, stealing another quick kiss. You felt him smile through it.

“Let’s make you feel good, baby,” he murmured. “Will you let me do that?”

It would be something to counter what you’d just gone through, and you couldn’t help but agree.

Beetlejuice lavished attention on you. Still hidden under the blankets, he ran his hands everywhere, from jaw to thigh. His mouth found yours again and again, and in between kisses that had his tongue lapping at yours, he shifted to take a nipple between his lips, teasing it to a peak by nibbling gently. You arched your back when he did that, while tiny sparks of pleasure radiated through you.

Before he pushed you too much there however, he went back to kissing you.

His free hand hadn’t been idle. He’d made trails up and down your body and gave you a little push on your hip to rock you to your back, then he took the leg that was between the two of you and draped it over his own. That gave him a access between your thighs, and he ran his fingers over the thin cotton of your panties.

You jerked at the muted stimulation. Beetlejuice chuckled, and his fingers pushed under the elastic waistband so there was nothing between him and your pussy.

You gasped.

He chuckled again, and moved quickly enough to slip his tongue between your teeth as his longest finger dipped more intimately along you. Its gentle pressure there, running the length of your pussy, made you groan around his tongue.

Beetlejuice released your mouth. Without asking permission, he flipped the blankets off the two of you, leaving you momentarily chilly. He took his hand out from between your legs, to your dismay. Before you could protest either thing, however, he brought his hand to his lips. Now that you weren’t literally kept in the dark from the weight of the blankets, you could see him take his finger into his mouth and suck it for a moment.

He repeated the action with his first finger, then dropped them back down to between your legs to push underneath your panties again.

You lifted your hips off the bed, to help take your underwear off, but he shook his head against it. His hand was trapped against your pussy, with a little less room to move. It was a different, more solid pressure, and you found you liked it.

Beetlejuice rubbed your clit with the pads of his fingers, tiny circles that morphed into bigger circles that morphed into still, heavy weight, that morphed back into tiny circles. Each sent pleasure through you in different waves, and it wasn’t long before you were crying out and pushing against his hand, chasing the orgasm he was building in you.

You could feel the firm length of his cock pressing into your side. When he paused, you blindly reached to palm him through his boxers, but he tsk’ed and dipped his pelvis away until you got the hint he didn’t want that.

Your hand felt like it needed occupied, however, so since you couldn’t stroke him in return it slipped between your legs as well, outside your underwear. You pressed down on his hand as he teased you, and he seemed to like that.

With no panties on, you probably would have put a finger or two inside. Beetlejuice knew that, and just as your legs started to tremble and your voice hitched a little bit, he obliged. His middle and ring finger sank into your pussy, leaving the meat of his palm resting solidly on your clit. With your hand on top of his, bliss exploded in your gut, and you came, crying out in pleasure.

“That’s good, baby, that’s good,” Beetlejuice praised.

He didn’t release you for a long moment, allowing your pleasure to undulate throughout you. It was only when your voice degraded to almost a sob that he carefully extracted his hand from your panties.

It took a little longer for your tremors to stop. In that time, Beetlejuice kissed you, stroked your hair, and whispered that you were safe and sound here with him.

Although you’d wanted to return the favor to him, although it wasn’t fair that you’d gotten off and he hadn’t even though his arousal was obvious, the panic attack you’d had plus the deep pleasure you’d gotten drained your reserves. You were sleepy and couldn’t fight keeping your eyes open.

You tried to tell Beetlejuice you wanted to to something for him, that he deserved to have the same attention as you’d gotten, but he shushed you.

“It’s okay, baby. We’ll make it up sometime. Right now I want you to rest. I’ll be right here. Right beside you.”

At some point the blankets were back over you. Beetlejuice was good to his word; his body, now warmed from contact with you, stayed pressed against yours, and feeling calm, you drifted to sleep beside him.

fin.

#writing #fanfiction #beetlejuice #musical beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader

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obsessive-ego · 4 years

Text

Sweet dreams part 2

Part 1

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Nsft content

Reader gets a wet dream while sharing a bed with their good pal beetlejuice

Voyeurism, masturbation, dubious consent

It's been a few days since the whole wet dream episode, you can still remember it like it was yesterday, as twistedly hot and awkward as the while thing was, the real awkward issues were the following morning.

10am your phone buzzes, illuminating the room, the mattress shifts, as you reach for your alarm you hear beetlejuice groan "shut it off babes, 10 more minutes".

Youd normally agree to that, but after what he did last night youd like to change you pants, and wash the sheets.

"Sorry Beej, wake up, I got shit to do" you nudge him, hoping he would let you go, no dice, he groans and tightens his grip on your waist.

"Sweets, it's so warm here, you have the day off, humor me".

"Sorry, I need to be an adult today-"

"Oh sugar, you can easily be an adult in bed~" his gravely voice drops to that seductive tone that makes a shiver run up your spin, this bastard was gonna be the death of you, you mumble an apology and pull away from his grip. Slinking out of bed you grab a pair of clean pajama pants and head to the bathroom.

Beetlejuice sighs, he'll get you one day, he pats his crotch, feeling the wet spot from last night, did you not notice last night? Did he wake you? Probably not, as least he thinks so.

He couldnt help but smile remembering that dream, he dreamt of you often, last night was a good one, guess having your scent so close triggered a REAL juciey wet dream, he sighs completely content, the image of you bouncing up and down on his cock, being so pretty for him, saying how much you loved him while he played with your breasts. Of course he figured it was a dream and really escalated it, pounding up into you at a punishing pace having you in tears over how good it was, beetlejuice couldnt help but drool remembering such a fun dream, but now wasnt the time to rub out another one, maybe later. He perked up hearing clattering in the kitchen, meaning you were making coffee, with a snap of his finger he was right beside you, he must of caught you off guard cuz you visibly jump.

"Did I scare you sugar~?" He purrs

You dont respond, your face was red, being this close to beetlejuice after him cumming on your backside in his sleep was too much too soon, you felt so awkward and embarrassed you thought your heart was gonna burst

"I know, I know, you're not a morning person, I'll check again when the coffee kicks in yeah?"

The whole day you would flinch when beetlejuice touched you, you couldnt even look at him, you weren't mad, just embarrassed. But of course he took it as you were upset with him, the day was weird and awful, but you couldnt stop yourself, you kept thinking back to last night.

When It came to the time when beetlejuice had to leave, as Lydia was summoning him, you gave him a goodbye handshake instead of the hug you normally do, you immediately regret that choice, seeing the purple hue that has taken him over, and with that final image he was gone, nothing left but green smoke.

In the last few days you've had time to calm down, and release the built tension. But today was yours and beetlejuice scheduled movie night, he was quite down when he left because of your actions, would he even want to DO movie night with you anymore after how weird you were? You paced the floor, mind flooded with negative scenarios of how the best thing to ever happen to you would never want to see you anymore.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you phone started buzzing, caller ID lydia

You frown, and accept the call "hello?"

"What are you wearing?~"

You sigh, he was using her phone again "beetlejuice-"

"OH sugar you will be wearing me when I'm done with you~" he moaned

Knitting your brows together, not quite sure what he ment, but not wanting to know, before you could reply, BJ starts again

"So are we gonna do this or not? Babes you're giving me massive blueballs" in the back ground you can hear lydia yelling for her phone back and for you to hurry up and summon him.

Taking a deep breath and composing yourself you summon your friend, your apartment is filled with green smoke, you cough waving the smoke away, once the smoke cleared there stood beetlejuice, normally he would pull you around like a rag doll, or dramatically dip and kiss you as a greeting, but tonight he just stood there staring back at you.

You give him a soft smile "hey I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day, I wasnt feeling too hot, and I acted super weird, I'm sorry if-"

Beetlejuice pulls you into a tight hug, guess that's all he needed from you?

"Thank god slash satan, Babs said you were probably feeling sick, I was SO worried you were sick of me Dollface" he nuzzled his head into the crock of your neck, you audibly gasp while the ghoul babbles about how worried he was about losing your friendship, you felt so rotten about it, but it's in the past and you two can move on.

Movie night was the same as it was, enjoyable, you order pizza and Beej scares the piss out of the delivery guy, it was nice to be over the awkward bump.

As it got late you told beetlejuice you were turning in, you got changed in the bathroom out of habbit, returning to your bedroom you saw the demon in your bed motioning you to come hither, you could feel you face getting warm, memories of the last time you two shared a bed came flooding back, you take a deep breath and go over.

"Come to daddy sweet thing~" beetlejuice coos with grabby hands

"Gross" you utter as you slide in next to him, your bed was a twin so there wasnt much room for personal space. Without a second thought beetlejuice wraps his arms around your waist as he spoons you, nuzzling his face in your hair.

"So warm" he mumbles, this is gonna be a long night, you could already feel the heat building inbetween your legs, none the less you close your eyes and try to empty you mind in Hope's sleep will come fast.

...

Beetlejuice is woken by your squirming "what's up sweets? Gotta pee?" No response, he give you a gentle nudge, nothing, he chuckles, you must be dreaming. Your breathing becomes harsh, panting as you squirm a bit harder, bumping your rear into the demons crotch.

"Whoa sugar, you alright?" He whispers, you quietly groan, then it clicks, you were having a wet dream, the ghoul couldnt help but drool at this, here you were, his cute little breather about to become a hot mess in his arms, WHILE HE'S VISIBLE.

You begin whining, while you squirm, bumping your rear into BJ's crotch at a nice steady pace, the demon was over the moon with this, his hair so bright with excitement and arousal, the room was illuminated an electric pink.

"What are you dreaming of sweetheart?~" he purrs, as his hand traces your thigh. "Pretty mean of you to give me a boner like this sugar, hmmmm, is this revenge for cumming on that cute butt of yours the other day?~" he couldnt help but chuckle at that last part.

Bucking harder against him, beetlejuice bites his knuckles to keep himself quite, stifling a moan, fuck this was so hot, should he let you sleep, or wake you up? Waking you up could be a good thing, maybe you'd wake up feeling incredibly horny and need him to pound you silly, or more likely youd be sick to your stomach with embarrassment, the demon is pulled from his thoughts by your voice, a tad louder then before.

"Beej, please" you moan softly

"Sweetheart" beetlejuice gently nudges you, no response. "Sugar, relax let your old pal mr beebleboose help ya out~" he purrs softly.

Beetlejuice gently snakes his hand to the front of your panties, gently teasing the folds of your sex with a single finger, the friction alone made you whine and buck hard, beetlejuice carefully pulls you close to his chest, so his now hard dick is resting nicely against your butt.

"Alright, I got you, this is the least I can do sweets" he cooed stroking your sex, you whine and buck, bumping your rear into Bj's cock, the ghoul bits down on his knuckles to keep himself quiet, this was too good of an opportunity to ruin.

"Beetlejuice..... so good.... ah" you mumbled thrashing a bit harder, god slash satan did beetlejuice want to grind his cock into your ass, but he was already pushing his luck as it was with his hand on you crotch.

"Feels good doesnt it sweetheart? You like it dont you? Naughty little thing~" he whispered, he knew you liked him, he's herd it straight from your mouth, the few times he's watched you touch yourself, you spelled it out nice and clear, that being said he knew you were a coward with your feelings, that was fine for now, he could wait till you were good and ready to admit it yourself, but until that glorious day, beetlejuice didnt mind taking what satisfaction he could get from you.

This, right now, having you moan and buck from his touch alone, having you grind that cute ass against his cock was like heaven, or as close as a born dead demon was gonna get.

"Come on y/n, I know your close~ how bout you cum for your old pal mr beebleboose?~ cum for me sugar, give me all you got~" he purred stroking you folds with a bit more friction along the crotch of your panties, which were now delightfully wet, what beetlejuice would give to stick that delicious garment in his mouth, the thought alone made him drool.

"AH!" You moan out, buck your hips in a clumsy rhythm "beetlejuice...." you softly whisper as your movement slows to a stop and your heavy breathing slowly dies down to a more calming pace.

The demon smiles to himself, proud of what he did, more importantly feeling smug about how you said his name when you came.

"Was it good sugar? Did daddy make you feel good?~" he cooed "pleasant dreams babes" the ghoul whispered placing a gentle kiss on your head, you mumble something unintelligible, beetlejuice couldnt help but smile.

But now to a more pressing matter, you might have already came, but BJ, not yet, the demon slips away from your sleeping form. "You know how I am a gentleman sugar, I couldnt possibly jerk off in your bed with you there twice in one week" he chuckles. The ghoul glances around the room for something to help him out, a new cum rag for the collection, beetlejuice had no issue seeing in the dark, and went straight to your laundry basket, pulling out a freshly wore pair of black panties. He holds the cloth to his face, inhaling your delightful scent, then it hits him, his hand, the hand that ever so gently jerked you off, this was gonna be real good, he hummed to himself strolling out to the living room where he could get away with making alittle noise.

Bonus

Your phones buzzes, 10am

you groan reaching for the device.

"Good morning sweetheart" beetlejuice pulls you back into an embrace, weirdly giddy this morning "did ya sleep well? Have any pleasant dreams?~" he cooed

You knit your eyebrows together, were you talking in you sleep?

"I guess? I dont really remember" you mumble.

Beetlejuice gives you a big toothy grin in response

"Well doll, you were moaning out my name last night begging me to fuck you~" he laughs

You punch him in the shoulder, yeah you did feel tingly between the legs, but he had to be joking "I did not you ass"

The ghoul continues to laugh as you slip away to start your day. The dense ones were always the best in his opinion.

#beetlejuice x reader #muscial beetlejuice x reader #nsft

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