#friendly cohabitation???

[mysterioussinkhole]

We as a society will never recover from this. Will we ever get this back. Has god abandoned us.

[hello-eden]

Sitcom Normal

The Justice League is sent to look into Amity Park.  When they get there it is normal. not in the sense that it looks like a normal town but in the sense of a sitcom sort of normal. There are friendly and nosy neighbors and you can spot the occasional young delinquent. They can see family picnics in the park and kids going to school but if you look deeper it gets a little unsettling. there is no crime other than the occasional speeding ticket.

when they look into everything they find surface level Mysteries. The mayor got into office through bribery. There are cheating scandals,  and a group of kids try to shop lifting to look cool.

The magical energy of the place is off the charts but the only thing that seems weird is how normal the place is. It's not until they hear Danny complaining about Vlad being weird, That they find out about the cameras and surveillance that the mayor has on a young Danny Fenton. 

They try to contact the proper authorities and they brush him off. He's the mayor. 

They try to tell the parents they don't believe them. 

They try to talk to the sister, she gives them a pitying look and then pretends they didn't tell her. 

They try to talk to Danny and he tells him to drop it. 

They try to confront Vlad; he has already deleted everything.

On the Amity Park side Amity has been peaceful for over a year. Ghosts have been cohabitating and helping with any rebuilding that needs to take place after the occasional ghost fights. Vlad is getting mostly redeemed.

The fentons are less shouty about ghosts as they know what Danny is and are working with Team Phantom to keep the GIW out of Amity Park's business.

Tucker has been hacking into the Justice League Files for years. It's one of the first things he did when Danny started to do the super thing. Team phantom then spread it to everyone and are now having a lot of fun messing with the Justice League. 

The reason the Justice League was able to overhear Danny complaining about Vlad is because the Fenton parents asked Vlad to turn on his trackers because Danny decided to go to a party without telling them.

With the amount of times Danny has been kidnapped or thrown through a portal to another dimension you'd think he would learn to tell people when he leaves for a couple of hours. 

[luveline]

YES to luna lovegood/dreamy!reader!!!!!!!!! Can we possibly get one with Spencer? <3

“It’s not as bad as you think.” 

Hotch appreciates the softness of your voice, as someone who also speaks in a very measured tone, but the sound of it has his brow furrowing. You’re a brilliant analyst, and a worse distraction whenever you’re in the main office. 

“It sounds terrible?” 

Hotch peers through the window to get a good look at the scene. You’re sitting in Spencer’s desk chair with your hands stretched out in front of you. Your outfit is very pink, considering the occasion, but it’s a non-abrasive light pink that flatters your skin. You have a clip in your hair, a small silver star with pink jewels embedded along the lines. 

Emily sips at a cup of coffee, leaning against the desk, her face to the side. Hotch can see her perturbed smile. 

“It’s fine! I’ve just been sleeping on the sofa.” 

“Well. That’s a call to pest control.” 

Spencer returns to his desk with a frown and two mugs. “Pest control?” he asks, the mug he places in front of you steaming. 

“There’s a raccoon living in her bedroom.” 

Spencer burns himself on his coffee, swearing as he puts it down hurriedly beside yours. “There’s a what?” Spencer asks. 

“He’s friendly. He came in through my vent.” 

“So friendly he’s stolen your bedroom?” 

You lean back in Spencer’s chair like it’s a La-Z-Boy, blowing at the hot surface of your drink with a similar lazy smile. “Imagine being that little and having such a big bed? When you usually sleep in the garbage?” You give a breathy laugh. “He must be having the time of his life.” 

“How are you getting ready in the mornings?” Spencer asks worriedly. 

“We’re cohabiting.” 

Spencer licks his lips. He likes you, and you seem aware of that fact, and that’s nerve-wracking for everyone involved. 

“Um, maybe we can make him a house? Like, outside? Raccoons are far happier in their natural habitat, and they’re also, you know, highly diseased and contagious compared to humans. I really don’t think you should let him inside.” 

“Spencer,” you say, giving him a dozy grin, “I didn’t let him in. He knows how to get in all by himself.” 

“I’ll call a repairman, too,” Emily says with a groan. 

She walks away, probably to find JJ and get her in on the repairs. Spencer looks at you for a long time, just drinking your tea, and Hotch mentally goads him into making a semblance of a move. Even if it’s just to fix your drooping hair clip. 

“You’re looking at me strangely again,” you say. 

Winces all around. “Am I?” Spencer asks. 

“Yes. Is this about Thursday?” 

“No.” Spencer swallows. “Yes. You didn’t answer my texts, after. I just want to know what you’re thinking.”

“What I’m thinking?” 

“Yeah. I thought about it a lot, so maybe you did too. Or maybe you didn’t, and it didn’t mean anything.” 

“Of course it meant something, Spencer.” You put down your mug, dusting your knees off before you stand. Spencer is not much taller than you where you’re standing in front of him, but you look up at him anyways. Your face tips ever so slightly to one side. “Would you want to do it again?” you ask softly. 

Spencer looks around the office. He neglects to check Hotch’s window, perhaps because the blinds are more often drawn than not, and so he doesn’t realise Hotch is watching as he draws you in for a kiss. 

You preen and lean back, hands fighting to cup his cheeks, a gauzy, practically gleaming aura around you as you smile into his mouth. Your fingertips tease his hair, and Spencer’s hand settles in place against the small of your back. You kiss back for only a few seconds before you’re laughing.

Spencer moves away quickly, taking your wrists into his hands to pull them away from his face. 

“You give up too fast,” you say. 

“I don’t think this is the place for it.” 

“Well, we can’t do it at my place. What if the raccoon sees?” 

“Good point. How about Marina’s, would that be better? We can get dinner at the same time.” 

Hotch feels oddly proud of Spencer’s suave suggestion, but he also has a migraine brewing between his brows. He really doesn’t need the extra paperwork. 

[whateveriwant]

Beside

Simon was the perfect boyfriend, until he wasn't.

~1.2k words. Angst, mention of alcohol, mention of sex/18+. This is just a little something that was plunking around my mind.

Simon Riley, who met his younger, civilian girlfriend at a rundown pub one night. 

You noticed him the moment you entered your local dive, not just because he was a new, handsome face in the crowd, but because of an inherent magnetism that seemed to pull your gaze to him. Though he was a bit older than you were used to chatting with, that didn't stop you from accepting his offer of drinks when he approached you at the bar. And after sharing a few friendly pints and a few more-than-friendly touches, he ended up heading back with you to yours for the evening, and the rest, well, was history.

Now, it's been over eight months since you first got together, and you couldn't be happier. Simon is probably the best guy you've ever been with. He's kind, smart, funny as hell, and fucks you like no man ever has before. He really is the perfect guy for you, just with one small caveat: how rarely you get to see him.

Because of his job in the military, he's gone more often than he's in town. When he's not jetting off to God knows where, on average, you spend about a week with him each month; maybe a week and a half if you're lucky, though you rarely are. Hell, he's away so much that he doesn't even bother holding a permanent residence anywhere. His home is his little corner bunk on the base across town – the one you've still yet to visit, despite your asking. 

Naturally, you've tried floating the idea of having him move in with you permanently, but he's always assured you that he's content as is, that it'd be more stress than sense to relocate so far away from his work. 

And you understand, or at least, you try to see it from his point of view. Simon's always been a private guy – a man with no family or friends to speak of, apart from a few colleagues he's forced to interact with semi-regularly. His choice to not want to cohabitate is not an indicator of his feelings towards you. He simply likes having a little space purely to himself, that's all it is.

But even knowing that doesn't make it any easier of a pill for you to swallow. There's only so much that late night calls from private numbers can do or so many pretty gifts in the post that can fill the void Simon leaves whenever he's not around. He's there for you as much as he can be, you know that he is, but you just can't help that you still want more.

It's one night, about five weeks since you've last seen your boyfriend, that you decide to treat yourself to a little pick-me-up. You're at a store that's a bit out of the way compared to where you normally shop, but they have that cheese spread you really like, so it's worth the drive.

As you're mindlessly perusing the shelves, looking at everything and nothing in particular, a noise coming from the aisle over has your ears instantly perking up. That sound. You know that sound. The deep, rumbling timbre that almost has your knees buckling in the middle of the shop.

You follow the noise, sure your ears are mistaking you, but pause mid-step the moment you round the corner. There he is. Your boyfriend. In all his tall, strapping glory. You'd thought that was his voice seeping through the cracks between the shelves, but couldn't quite believe it since you didn't think he'd returned home yet.

You grin, overjoyed to see him, and take a step forward to approach. But just as soon as you move, you stop dead in your tracks, suddenly confused as you take in the scene ahead.

Simon's standing directly beside an overflowing trolley. But not just any trolley. One that holds two little boys, both looking not even old enough to attend school yet.

The sight has you stunned, the smile on your face faltering. Who are these children? And why is your boyfriend watching so closely over them? 

You're trying to decipher the situation from afar when another figure quickly grabs your attention. A woman, a few years older than yourself, walks up beside the trolley your boyfriend guards. Simon turns to look at the woman as she places something in the cart, a warm smile curving her mouth when he notices her. The children seem happy to see her return, and upon inspection, they appear to be her sons – the same hair, same eyes, same smile as they gaze up at her.

But the boys’ reaction is not what concerns you, what has your stomach twisting itself in tight knots. It's the way Simon reacts that leaves you stunned, that has you dumbstruck beyond all hope for redemption.

Simon, your boyfriend, smiles just as happily back at this woman. Simon, your boyfriend, gives her that look you’d only ever seen reserved for you. Simon, your boyfriend, reaches out to softly caress her cheek. And Simon, your boyfriend, leans forward, closing his eyes, until he's connecting his lips with hers.

A second passes, maybe five or six, where you just stand there, watching, unable to comprehend what you're seeing. Your mind feels like it’s firing at a million miles an hour, but it has nothing on how fast your heart is beating, threatening to bruise against your ribcage. 

After a moment, the two of them pull back, looking like a picture ripped right out of a catalog. The woman reaches up to brush some hair off Simon's forehead, a ring glinting on her fourth finger catching your eye with the movement. The oval cut diamond is especially blinding as she then drops her hand down to her middle. Your pupils pinpoint as she rubs her swollen belly, which can't be more than four months along, you'd wager.

As you look between them – the woman, the children, the man you've been with for months – slowly, so slowly you think your brain is made of wet cement, the pieces of the puzzle finally click together in your mind.

The realization makes you feel instantly lightheaded, thinking you're seconds away from emptying your stomach all over the shop’s freshly swept floor. Your throat slowly constricts, your hands beginning to shake, and before you can register what's happening, your basket of groceries falls to the ground with a clatter. 

The resounding noise draws the attention of all the nearby shoppers, including a pair of familiar brown eyes that immediately snap to yours. You lock eyes with Simon for just a second, before you're turning on your heel, abandoning your supplies in a scattered mess. 

Tears flood your vision as you flee the store, your body on autopilot as all you can think about is getting out of there. You're trembling as you fumble with your keys, dropping them twice as you bolt through the car park. When you finally reverse out of the lot, you don't even notice how a car or two honks their horn in warning. You hear nothing but the blood rushing through your ears, the static buzzing loudly around your skull. The voice in your head is shouting, absolutely screaming at the top of its lungs.

My God. My God. What have you done?

__________

A/N: Just so we’re clear, Simon Riley would never ever cheat. But for angsty fanfiction purposes, let’s pretend like he would, okay? Okay, cool. Anyway, I’d love to know what you thought! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

[chilkookiepal]

Burn With Me

kind of yandere /toxic JJK x Reader (hints at reader being black)

summary : in which what yours is mine to Jungkook and what's his is infact Not yours

genre / angst for this chapter , dark romance, themes of exercised control

MINORS DO NOT INERACT!!!

🤍🤍🤍 🤍🤍🤍 🤍🤍🤍 🤍🤍🤍 🤍🤍🤍 🤍🤍🤍

Jungkook doesn't share

he will do anything you tell him to He would become your servant if you allowed that

He was very curious about  you which meant that he had to be attached to your hip whenever he could that also to him and in his own merits of logic meant that he was allowed to be in your business as much as he wanted You didn't even have to know

he was watching his own unspoken rules getting jeopardized at times especially when you did things like these

What belonged to you belonged to him and the opposite was a dead end

It wasn't just you , jungkook just consisted of too many possessive bones in his body

It's either he was just that good at masking his distaste for sharing or you just couldn't take a hint He didn't even have the time to do s double take in his already livid state

see the thing is he was simply caught off guard

you had gotten into the mood to clean up the house which also meant that the laundry coul not be avoided

You and Jungkook were simply cohabitant new room mates and it has been a little over a month since a friend sent you in the direction of an empty apartment listing Doing all in her might to get you out of her and her boyfriend's freaky way

Upon meeting your landlord you had been skeptical but you didn't have that many choices plus the neighborhood seemed safe and the rent was pretty fair so you moved in

You both got along fine ,quickly falling into a routine,the living situation was practically homey, marriage like sealed with a lot of tension.

his jaw was so tensed if you noticed you would think something was bound to snap,his reaction was simply an erorr detection in his exercised control

you had these instances where you stepped on his toes without even thinking twice

you were not being the most considerate in his eyes and this additional moment as if his day was not bad enough to you, why did you have to have your episodes right when he was livid

he was simply pissed off and you just happened to be the first thing in sight , a winner of his bad moods by default as his eyebrows scrunch at your appearance

"Is that my t-shirt?"

You were a mess to say the least, your braids in a ponytail that fell down from a bun keep getting in your face disrupting the surface of the counter that you are currently wiping down at

in the background you hum to a song blasting on volume 29 , it's nearing 1pm in the day when the door ahead beeps and open revealing a slightly disheveled Jungkook who had knocked off work earlier than normally

Something about his presence is not very friendly in this moment where his tongue pokes at the side of his cheek from the inside

You had never seen him like this before, a nervous light smile gracing your lips When your eyes trail further to examine him his lip seems slightly busted "Jungkook, what happened…are you okay?" You simply ask concern fully evident in your widened shiny orbs

You are not sure what is happening exactly between Jungkook rolling his eyes, a dark chuckle, the quirking if his eyebrow and the impatience evident on his face all together bringing you back to his initial and only words to you as it was your first time seeing him today

"Oh yeah, I was doing laundry and my clothes got drenched " growing antsy under the weight of his gaze you assure him that you have plans to wash it and that it was safe

"So you wear my clothes, who gave you permission?"

if you ever thought your eyes could not get any bigger they could as well have been hanging out of their sockets in this instant

"I didn't think you would mind-' He is stepping closer in slow strides and unwavering predatory gaze solely focused on you and you alone you look like a deer caught in the headlights

"Who gave you the fucking permission to wear my shirt y/n ?"

He seems to be a different person as he stops a little distance from you eyebrows drawn together in an angry frown

you're still trying to be sure that this is Jungkook that standing in front of you, to keep yourself from running the hell out of sight

"I'm sorry, I -" he chuckles in disbelief "you can be such a selfish brat sometimes, I can't believe you would just help yourself to my clothes without my permission  what else do you fucking take from me when I'm not around, huh?"

It's a rhetorical question and His words taking on a patronizing tone that triggers a defensive alarm in your brain

the way he drags his eyes across you makes you question your existence for a hot minute

and somewhere between the pitch of Jungkooks mean words , his gaze and the ringing in your ears turning into a deafening  intolerable sound your eyes start tearing up and when you can no longer take any of it even the t-shirt feels like it's weighing you down and in the defeat of it all your hands reach for the hem of the shirt and you drag the t-shirt over your head shoving it in his chest before turning to hide away behind the protective walls of the one thing you infact had the full rights to in jungkooks shared apartment

You are simply too livid to realize the state you have him in in the span of the moment you throw his shirt at him

Tits standing pretty above your figure He never thought he'd ever see this view

and when you turn away from him your pretty ass swaying makes him want to pull you back in to his arms just to feel the softness of your flesh against his finger tips and another tip making his explosive mood into something more sinister than what he had been initially presented with

"Fuck " he lets out under his shaky breath

The door slamming in a distance ahead

You don't come out of your room in the next four hours

Hopeful that he would leave again

You had fallen asleep somewhere in between your crying waking up around sun down to take down your laundry you tie your robe around your figure and your door creaks at contact You don't even make it far when you spot familiar closet colors that belong to you already folded neatly on the nearest couch to your room

You don't bother to look for him Even when the kitchen smells nice and dishes clank there

You retreat back to your room before exiting again to take a shower

When done you get back into your room not acknowledging his presence even though he's sitting right across the room

You were dressed up when you exited the room again, wearing your work attire with your braids flowing down your back and a satchel bag on your shoulder He could tell you were off to work with your change of clothes in the bag that has some volume today hinting him something he won't even let himself consider

He's there on the kitchen island following your every move with his eyes you know he is there so you ignore more you see him as you look around for your preferred pair of sneakers that you are not sure where they went

The comfortable ones that tolerate your herrendous hours of standing

frustrated you go back into your room to check again settling on a  different pair

"Come and eat " A voice you are ignoring announces from the kitchen You ignore him

you are approaching the door when he stands in front of you

"Please "

"I'm not hungry " you say lowly

Your stomach growls for the nth time like a paid actor

his eyebrows knitted knowing that you had not eaten in hours

You try to push past him but he just stands in your way tall and broad as ever

You glare at him hoping he will get the message

Angel,I'm sorry ," he takes the opportunity to let out the word when your eyes finally meet his

"Yeah me too , could you move"

He won't budge , refusing to let you leave without eating

"I'm really not interested"

At least you were talking

"Please"

he has those sparkling eyes staring into your soul

"I already dished for two "

"Well now you got extra for tomorrow "

"You can't work on an empty stomach"

you ignore the last bit of his opinion continuing to scurry away and you don't even hear him approach you until he's dragging you to the counter opening a chair for you and putting a plate in front of you

You eat with him still avoiding him You were always like this You got scared to look people in the eyes whenever you had arguments

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any of the things I said- I was not even upset with you, you were just there"

You clear your throat before muttering a heavy apology that tugs at your heart strings

"I'm sorry-

I'm sorry for wearing your t-shirt, it won't happen again"

You simply got forward and out of lane earlier and that makes your appetite want to desipate

You were probably being unreasonable but what if he resented you for all he did for you as well

You surely despised feeling indebted to people and you feared overstepping boundaries and overstaying your welcomes

"Thanks for the food " You are on your feet to do the dishes when he does it again, he takes the dishes to put them in the dishwasher before you can make it to the sink

"Princess, look at me"

He was now stood in front of you too close for your bond to Jungkook that is under reevaluation

With a sharp inhale you meet his gaze , unreadable, almost unfamiliar

"I- I have to go"

He wants to place his arms on the counter to cage you there and never let you out of his sight

"Let me drive you there"

"thank but my ride is already here"

This was his least favorite category of brattiness from you and if you weren't already icing him out he would have pointed it out

You excuse yourself past him and rush for the exit your sneakers squeaking against the tiles with each hypnotic sway of your hips A part of him thinks you don't even know what you do to him And

Truth is you had no clue what you had gotten yourself into He was trying his hardest to change , learning to leave behind a method of love that burns and destroys him and anything he touches

This was no regular man, he was something far more than obsessive and he was scared that he was already getting too lost in you You were right here under his nose now , you grew on him too quickly

What's yours was his and what's his was his, YOU were his you just didn't know it yet which was why he got pissed earlier when you fit perfectly into HIS t-shirt you disrupt an order of control that goes unspoken to him

wearing his t-shirt was just too hard for him to handle but fuck that image of your body is now engrained in his head and in the camera east corner of the apartment in the living room too small to be noticable Well at least to your pretty eyes he thought to himself Same pretty eyes that were glossy when you looked up at him earlier with just a pair of cotton panties on

another pair that you would be losing to Jungkook without a clue in the world

He had no interest to wash that shirt anytime soon, your bare nipples were pressed right against that fabric, his shirt for fucks sake

He wanted to lift you in the air and just fuck you then and there but !he was a patient man however far that would take him

you were becoming like a deep ocean slowly sinking him to the bottom with an anchor that he tied himself securely to his own ankle

You didn't even have to do anything to have him wrapped around your little finger and that is how he knew he had no plans of letting you go well at least any time soon ...

DON'T BE A SILENT READER , I'M HUNGRY FOR FEEDBACK 😭😭

do not translate ,copy / re-use .

[seirindono]

So i have more question, what are the relationships between each one of the lord?

Who is friend with who?

Who hate who?

That kind of relationships not necessary love!

(Maybe do like one of those circle with link that connect each lord, eatch link with specific color for eatch lord, past lord and mel?)

Want to know more!

(I had to finish it with my mouse+keyboard so please bear with me)

Edit: Relationships before Frisk arrives. Some changes happen bc they get involved!

More details on what the arrows are for

Friendly - On friendly terms, related or good impression. Either the Lords are close or their respective sins complement each other, making for harmonious cohabitation. (They can still fight and they're still demons but relationships are overall good)

Hostile - Open conflict. Occurs only on the king's orders. It is an official declaration that does not necessarily reflect the feelings of both parties, and usually concerns royalty and outcasts/fugitive/banished demons.

Tense - Animosity but unless the King's allows/requests it, Lords can't openly fight and have to tolerate each other. Usually involves conflictual sins, territorial disputes and past arguments.

/!\ It also includes "forced" tensions (bc of royal order), misunderstandings and big disagreement on one specific subjetc, making the overall relationship strained.

Wary - Unrelated to the "Lord" status, it's purely based on the individual's past and their feelings/interest.

Scared - Due to power struggle, status, reputation or past encounter

Admiration - Genuine admiration or fondness, as a Lord and/or individual

If there's no arrow, they don't know each other or are neutral (or I forgot, it's one messy diagram, sorry...)

If arrows have 2 colors, it's a mix and is ambiguous.

[grox-empire]

Would you guys believe me if I said this was Sims spec bio. Because this is Sims spec bio.

Preemptively begging you guys not to be weird about them being parasitoids please.

Anyways! Meet Daybreak's newest sophont species, The Sixamites! Native to... Well... Planet Sixam, Of course! They are the product of immense amounts of Autism and my hyperfixation on maxis games extending from Spore to The Sims.

These insectoid sophonts are Parasitoids and rely almost entirely on other species to reproduce. Back on their homeworld they have specialized hosts meticulously GMO'd to care for their young, But recent developments have lead to them expanding their horizons. They are extremely friendly towards other alien species, And due to this they tend to form relationships with other aliens. To a Sixamite, Offering someone to bear their young is the ultimate form of affection.

Sixamites cohabitate very well with other species and are found all across the galaxy, Often on planets not colonized by them, But by other species.

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

the funniest thing to me in thh is the use of the pre-killing game photos that are supposed to hint at the mastermind's identity. yeah they're all very shocking in the depictions of them in mudane peace and friendly cohabitation. but also. they use like the same celeste_standing.jpg in all of them...these photos are supposed to show how they're all such close friends and spent so much time together and then there's celeste who is Not Fucking Participating

[hyperpotamianarch]

Pleasant music playing. The logo of Camp Nephillim appears on a sky-blue background. The logo is a tilted Star of David in which all the points are stylized as wings, with the words "Camp Nephilim" above and the Hebrew equivalent - "מחנה הנפילים" - below. Underneath the logo is a tagline - a quote from the Tanach.

The logo & background slowly fade. The music also fades, though a bit later than the logo.

[Setting: Int., an office of some sort. The back wall is covered with book shelves, with many of the books being in Hebrew - the Talmud, multi volume edition of the Tanach and such books. There's a table in the middle of the room. Behind it sits Tuvia Rosenbloom, an adult Jewish man with curly dark hair, a short beard and sharp green eyes. He wears a blue Camp Nephilim t-shirt, with a Tzitzit under it and a yarmulke on his head. He sports a friendly smile.]

Tuvia (with a noticable British accent): Shalom! Hello, and welcome to Camp Nephillim. I am Tuvia Rosenbloom, the camp councelor, and I'm here to explain to you about what this camp is and why you're here. Your journey here was likely shaking, so in the meanwhile take your time to relax and drink a cup of water while you're watching this orientation video. Please remember to say the blessing before!

[He lifts a cup of water, says the blessing and drinks before continuing]

Tuvia (cont.): So, first thing first: you should know that many thing that you may have thought were merely myth are, in fact, quite real. This includes angels and demons - though they aren't exactly the same as you might've imagined them. No, the whole "Biblically Accurate Angels" meme wouldn't prepare you enough either. Angels can also sometimes appear differently than their natural form, and can even seem like regular humans. They sometimes fall in love with humans, which is how most Nephilim come to be.

[Tuvia's office disappears, to show instead a Chumash opened in the Book of Genesis, chapter 6]

Tuvia (cont.): What are the Nephilim? Well, as the Torah says,

"It was then, and later too, that the Nephilim appeared on earth—when divine beings cohabited with the human women, who bore them offspring. Such were the heroes of old, the men of renown."

[Setting returns to Tuvia's office]

Tuvia (cont.): So, those are the Nephilim, then: children of Divine beings and humans, who are heroes and men of renown. And you are likely one of them.

[Tuvia takes another sip from his cup, then sets it aside]

Tuvia (cont.): You might need some time to digest that, feel free to pause the video for a few minutes. Getting back on topic, though: you are, likely, the child of a divine being. If you always grown with a single parent who only rarely reminisced of another parent you don't know what happened to them - you are likely a Naphil. It may grant you certain abilities relating to the position your divine parent served in the universe. Note, however, that those divine beings aren't gods. We do not worship them or offer them sacrifices, even as mediators between as and G-d. Some of those Divine Beings do like to consider themselves gods and were worshipped by old civilizations - the Greek and Norse pantheons, for example. That doesn't make them any more gods than the Angels known in Jewish lore - they are merely forces. Powerful, but not omnipotent.

[Tuvia pauses for a moment, letting that sink in]

Tuvia (cont.): There are other types of people who might find their way to Camp Nephilim, however. Perhaps you were training in magic under the Egyptian ḥartumim of Per Ankh and felt uncomfortable during Passover; maybe you studied under the tutelage of the Chaldeans in New Jersey, and they were harsh on you during Tisha b'Av; or maybe you were either born with the Re'iyeh, the Sight, or were granted it by an experiment gone wrong. I, personally, am descended from one of the few Jewish bloodlines that inherited the Re'iyeh from one of our ancestors. We can see the hidden world, and the threats within... and they tend to look back. Which leads us to demons.

[Tuvia leans back in his chair, putting his hands together]

Tuvia (cont.): It is important to remember that Demons - or Shedim, as they are known in Hebrew - aren't what you've come to expect from beings with such a name. They aren't evil monsters, hell-bent on tempting you to sin. Rather, they are... adjacent beings to us, not dissimilarly to elves or goblins in modern popular media. However, they are nothing like you may have come to expect from elves of the Tolkeinian kind. They are wilder than them, and prone to hurt humans. They aren't always murderous or impossible to reason with either. Some of them, like our lore instructor Yonatan Shida, are rather friendly. Many of them crave blood, though, and nothing is tastier to them than the blood of the Nephilim, or other humans capable of seeing them. They live in the edges of society and can feel when someone is looking at them. And when you do... when you acknowledge seeing them... you become fair play.

[Tuvia returns to his previous posture, lifts his cup and takes another sip]

Tuvia (cont.): You likely had a significant encounter with Shedim, or maybe other types of monsters, on your way here - but it probably wasn't your first time seeing them. It might have been a man who, upon a second look, had chicken legs. Perhaps you could've sworn that a weird stranger who seemed to follow you had two heads. You may have seen a horse fly on the horizon, or encountered a tall person with an umbilical cord tying them to the ground on a field trip. They were less of a threat to you back then. But yo have grown, and your powers and abilities grew with you - along with the Shedim's ability to sense you. They will be coming for you - which is why you're here. Camp Nephilim is a place for Jewish Nephilim and Ba'alei Shem to train. To get used to the powers granted to us by virtue of our parentage or via other means. We're not the only place for such training; Camp Half-Blood in Long Island offers training for children of entities from the Greek Pantheon, while the 21 Nome of the House of Life in Brooklyn offers training in Egyptian magic, and the Chaldean school in Jersey City will train you in the Mesopotamian vain. None of those, however, is built with Jews in mind: the worship of pagan gods is common in all these places. They don't supply you with Kosher food, tend to not care for our holidays and often enough rife with latent antisemitism. We offer a Jewish alternative - no matter what is your level of observance or what congregation you belong to, you can be sure we have here at least one synagogue you can daven at and one you'd never set foot in. We do not worship any god but G-d here - you can honor your parents in ways fitting the traditions of the Torah, but even if a divine parent asks of you to worship them you are not required to. Another difference between us and the other Camps and Schools is that you aren't trained to slay Shedim here. You're trained to keep them at bay, imprison them if necesarry. Unlike other monsters, Shedim die like humans do, and so killing them should be only taken as a last resort: if your life are in danger you should kill whoever threatens you, but otherwise killing Shedim is like murder. We would ask you to refrain from doing that unless necessary.

[Tuvia gets up]

Tuvia (cont.): That is it for the orientation video for now. Further explanations on your sleeping arrangemnt and schedules will be given to you when you exit the room. Welcome to Camp Nephilim! We hope you enjoy your time with us.

[Outro music playing, the picture of Tuvia's office is replaced by the blue background with the Camp's logo to the side while the credits are shown on screen]

———

Writer wishes to note he knows nothing about writing stage instructions.

[solacebloom]

Steven Grant x Autistic!Reader

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

Just some drabbles of what being friends/partners with Steven Grant would look like with an autistic reader since, I myself, am autistic. Autism is a spectrum so I tried to make it inclusive but some of the traits are obviously going to be more geared towards my experience since that's what I'm writing from. Also gender neutral!reader

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

TW: talking about stimming, autistic meltdowns, cpstd, insomnia, DID

Steven Grant

Steven Grant has a lot of autistic traits, so I’ll be treating him like he is.

Rigid routines, hyperfixations (Egyptology), always calling his Mom every morning, being visibly upset when his routine is changed, etc

CPSTD can exacerbate autism traits so whether or not Marc and Jake have autism in particular I’m not going to get into right this moment BUT

man has insomnia among other things he gets it he understands you better than most.

If you were cohabitating the both of you would have your safe spaces in the flat

On top of that the entire place would be sensory friendly, your little retreat

Overhead light never gets turned on when it’s with you two, Steven keeps the curtains open for some natural light

incense from his involuntary travels would be stockpiled

He definitely has some sort of trinket or keepsake that makes white noise of some kind

Might be a water feature or windchimes hung up by the window- Gus’ tank also emits some white noise from the filter and water pump

The flat will always have some sort of noise to drown out the busy streets outside

When the noises are overstimulating to the both of you though he’s got noise canceling headphones and earbuds- he misplaces them a lot so there’s always extra to go around

Though eventually he gets you your own pair for around the flat

If you use a cane or any sort of walker he invests in making sure you have a spot to put it while you’re around the flat and that there’s actually space for you to walk around with it if needed

While he loves his collections of books, if you can’t traverse the flat with all that stuff on the floor he’s going to find another spot for them. Shoved into a closet somewhere- a storage unit, whatever he can do to keep his books and you

You both definitely stay in a lot more than you do go out

The street just outside the flat is busy but in the quieter hours the two of you go on short walks under the moonlight

If you’re novelty seeking though Steven’s not going to be the best at helping but will do his best to tag along with you if it’s outside of the house. 

Sometimes he’s right there with you ready to go out and other times he’s just wanting to stay home, you don’t always match energies 

Novelty seeking at home though? Completely different story. He’s always happy to dive into a new topic with you, whether it’s related to his own hyperfixation or one of your own

Insomnia and DID affect his memory so even if he has come to terms with Marc he’s still going to be writing things down, taking notes on the subject you two are diving into

When you need to stim Steven has a TON of trinkets and stim toys around the flat if not already in his pockets

The only thing he wouldn’t share with you is his rubik cube, if that’s not already in his hands while the two of you are talking it’s in his pocket or misplaced on a shelf it’s definitely his most well loved stimming item and he has to fix it, often

Puzzles also! From old crosswords to literal picture puzzles he’s down to do them all with you and will probably be absentmindedly doing one while you info dump

He has a rocking chair somewhere in the flat that’s incredibly comfy and well loved for some full body stimming

I don’t think Steven would have a sensory swing and if he does he was to embarrassed to set up for himself

Like Steven doesn’t hate himself for being autistic

He never learned to mask but there’s still lingering anxieties, they just aren’t focused around his autism, more on his DID and just general trauma 

If you or any or the other alters found the swing though there would be some questions and a lot of hesitance and excuses on Steven’s end

Well you bet that swing is getting set up now

Even if Steven doesn’t end up using it as much he’s glad that it’s there if you or him need it at some point 

You both do parallel play/being alone together- you’ll focus on your task and he’ll do his while you both are in the same room

Whilst some tasks give Steven the ick he can’t offload all the chores to his alters 

So when the dishwasher needs to be opened or dishes cleaned in the sink he has a whole process to try and make it easier on himself

He wouldn’t be good at helping you out with these tasks either but his presence is appreciated 

If eating noises are triggering Steven will either fetch the noise canceling headphones or go eat out on the porch or off in another room

Safe foods! He has them written down if he doesn’t already remember them

The flat is stocked with both his and your safe foods

If you’re out of the house he keeps a backpack on him that would have snacks and trinkets

I don’t think Steven goes nonverbal often mostly because I think that version for him is probably just retreating back and forcing the other alters out so that at least someone is talking in whatever situation is happening

I think if it does happen in a safe space with you though he’s most likely writing down his thoughts to you over his notebook

When you go nonverbal he gets a little panicky, because he knows how he feels when that comes up so he’s much more fretful over that

He starts asking you a bunch of yes or no questions to things you may need which isn’t always entirely helpful as it can be a bit overwhelming

But after his anxieties are quelled he’s much more able to help out in whatever you need

Whatever communication device or tool you use he’s more than willing to accommodate and carries around cards in the backpack as well

When you have a meltdown for the first time in front of him he definitely isn’t entirely sure of himself, he doesn’t know exactly what you need so it takes some trial and error 

After the meltdown though he asks what you’d like to have happen when another one occurs

Whether you need physical touch or instead a weighted blanket or touch sensation at all he’s ready to help

Whatever entertainment medium you like he’ll put on/grab to keep your mind distracted and calmed

If it’s in public he will probably let another alter handle it since that’s overwhelming for him too though I think he feels guilty about it despite it just being a defense mechanism on his end. 

He wants to help you and himself, but part of that is accepting where he’s at and sometimes trying to push yourself is the opposite of what’s needed

[emeritusemeritus]

No Good Deeds [George Weasley x Reader]

Part 8

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. SMUT. The smut has arrived! P in V, oral (both). Angst, sadness, grief. Illusions of cheating, infidelity, Tags will be updated with each chapter. Not Beta-read or spell checked.

This one got a little angsty 🥀

Marriage was known to be hard work, a long running admittance that was shrouded with humour by those who had known the struggles first hand of maintaining a happy and healthy relationship. Fake marriages were undoubtedly twice as hard; especially when actual feelings were involved and had to be concealed.

After the honeymoon, things had turned almost platonically stale, though you had remained friendly and cordial with George, any hope of furthering your relationship was quickly shot down when you fell placidly into roommate rolls rather than anything more. It was like everything that happened on your honeymoon was forgotten, like it never happened.

Day to day, you carried on as normal, working alongside each other and cohabiting in relative peace but there was little to no intimacy anymore. George had begun sleeping in his own room as soon as you returned back from your honeymoon and had made almost no attempt to sneak into your bed again or initiate anything else in between.

It had been nearly six months since the wedding, five months and a little under two weeks since you'd returned from your honeymoon and you'd completely lost hope that anything was going to magically change between the two of you. You'd tried, at least in the beginning, to initiate more and to subtly flirt with him, trying to reclaim all that had been lost but it was pointless.

You'd had sex twice since returning from honeymoon, both of those times has been the consequence of built up of sexual tension: a release of sorts. This first time, you'd split a bottle of wine and had been watching a movie on the couch, sharing a blanket and one thing had led to another until you were riding him into the couch.

The second time had been after a thunderous meeting with the investors, in which they had found out about your marriage and therefore the redundancy of their name change order. Tempers had flared and George had remained relatively calm, if not a little cocky at their reactions which had only riled them up further. He'd kissed you in celebration of winning his case and you'd barely made it through the door to the flat before he'd taken you hard and rough against the (thankfully) closed front door. It had been messy and dirty, prompted by his business victory with a tangle of kisses, bites and wandering hands that desperately clutched at every piece of bare skin they could find.

The awkwardness that had followed the little slip of judgement had been agonising, taking days to settle down between you where you could hardly make eye contact because of your temporary lapse.

You just had to get through another year and a half of being married before you could part ways and accept that it was never going to happen with George Weasley.

The business had been booming and rightfully so as for the first time in a long time, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had launched new products, a whole new line of Wonderwitch potions. They'd been an instant hit and though it had been considerably more work for you in the potions department, you'd worked tirelessly and happily to assist the business, and George. George had even taken on two more employees recently for the shopfloor as the demand was too much for just him, Ron and Verity whilst you sorted the back of house accounts, ordering and potion making.

To boost business further, George had also accepted a deal proposed by Zonko's Joke Shop to launch a small selection of his products in Zonko's including a new Pyrotechnic, Thestral Thrasher, which was only available from Zonko's on a limited edition basis. George had essentially locked himself away for the past month in the apartment above the shop which had become his new workshop and there had been multiple nights that you hadn't seen him, had eaten alone and then gone to bed without him ever stepping foot through the door.

Putting on a brave and mildly forced smile, you checked yourself a over in the mirror one last time. Tonight Zonko's was hosting a grand opening party for the Wheezes range that they would be carrying, a hard launch into the new business venture between the two stores. As George's wife you were expected to be there with a smile on your face and a pretty gown, in support of your husband. The whole Weasley family would be there as well as close friends, basically everyone in your social circle. You knew there would be questions that you'd have to deflect all night and put on a performance which had you feeling exhausted already just thinking about it. You hoped Ginny would be deep into wedding planning for her upcoming nuptials to Harry and would dominate the conversation for the majority of the night, maybe if you brought it up with Molly it would twist things in your favour.

You smoothed down the front of your silk dress, having chosen a dark purple shade, a subtle little hint of your support of George. George had always been the 'purple' twin whilst Fred had opted to wear more orange shades, keep subtle nods to the colours of their business even in their everyday clothes. Even after George had lost his ear and Fred's death, he had still continued to wear purple shades, as if it was his distinguishing feature. You adjusted your breasts in the admittedly rather sexy dress and checked your makeup one last time before you left the flat, making your way to the next place you could apparate.

Apparating into Hogsmeade, you were immediately met with a beautiful display of a thriving town, bustling with partygoers and late night customers to the multiple tea rooms that were just about to close.

Walking across to Zonko's, you paused and burst into a smile at seeing a giant orange and purple bow placed across the entire storefront, alongside a sign that said it big, moving letters 'Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes now sold here'. You'd always been proud of everything Fred and George had achieved kid never felt prouder than in that moment, seeing the place you'd spent so much time in during your youth, dragged by the twins to their favourite shop for restocks now carrying their own range, and proudly so.

"Y/n!" You heard to your left, spotting Hermione waving you over as she stood with Ron and Harry slightly off from a crowd of people.

"Blimey, you look nice," Ron says as you walk over to them with a warm smile, greeting them all excitedly. You didn't miss the little glare Hermione shot to Ron at his words and couldn't help but laugh as he relented, looking as uncomfortable in his suit as he had at the Yule Ball, pulling the collar of the restrictive shirt away from his neck.

"Have you seen George?" Ginny says as she steps over to you, throwing her arms around your neck as you greet you sister in law. You smile as her hand finds Harry's almost as soon as you pull apart and shake your head at her, not having seen George at all today.

"Mum's gone looking for him, something about making sure he had eaten enough before the champagne starts but we all know it's because she saw the photographer going inside and wants in on it," Ron says with a mumble which makes you chuckle, knowing he's probably true. "Dad was with him inside."

You nod at the information, casting your eyes back to the building in the hopes you'd catch a glimpse of his red hair but there were too many people.

"Is Charlie coming?" You ask, trying to divert the conversation away from George and receive shaking heads from Ginny and Ron.

"No he's been travelling, following a horde of short-snouts somewhere in Scandinavia. Said he'd make it to the wedding but couldn't get away for this," she explains, opening the door for wedding questions.

You chatted to them for quite a while before Angelina barrelled over to you with her new boyfriend and immediately stole you away. A few hours later, you felt that you'd mingled the night away, dancing through the sea of people getting further and further away from George, who you'd not even seen yet.

"There she is," you hear a voice from behind you and when you turn, you realise that it's Bill. You visibly relax, glad to be in the company of someone you could be yourself around, not having to mingle with investors and acquaintances from your Hogwarts days you'd not seen in a while.

"Being First Lady difficult?" He teases as he wraps is arm around you, a secure and warm brotherly hug that actually helps you relax.

"Horrible, though I'm yet to actually find my husband," you admit with a laugh, looking around for Fleur who was usually by his side.

"She wanted to be here," he says, noticing your gaze for his wife, "morning sickness isn't her friend right now, mum gave her some potion for it but she can hardly keep it down," he replies with a smile. The couple had shared their happy news not too long ago and you were exuberantly happy for them, though you did empathise with Fleur's sickness.

"Well I hope she feels better soon," you say kindly, which he nods his thanks back to.

"Doubt you've seen much of him with all this happening," he says, referring to George with a nod of his head towards the building where you assumed he would be.

"Oh you have no idea," you say coyly, only realising the depth of your statement after the words had tumbled out of your mouth. If Bill noticed any undertone in your words he hid it well and you quickly diverted the conversation back to his work and his unborn child, safe topics to carry you through.

When the fourth round of champagne and various flights of butterbeer, canapés and special Honeydukes iced biscuits that had been imprinted with the signature 'W' slogan came round, you decided enough was enough. You'd mingled long enough and had waited patiently as you secretly sought out your husband but the niggling tension wouldn't go away, you wanted to find George.

You stepped inside the bustling building, seeking out his red hair and tall stature, expecting to see him over the crowd of people but it was near impossible with everyone tucked so tightly together. Each and every time you thought you'd spotted him, it turned out to be one of his siblings, all of them sporting a similar if not identical flame red hair you were looking for.

You had no idea what possessed you but you suddenly decided to slip past the employee only cordon to the stairs and ascend them quickly, hoping no one would see you or notice you'd gone.

George was clearly avoiding you, keeping himself busy with his friends, family and patrons, using them as a barricade to stay hidden from you, no doubt wanting to put a familiar distance between you like normal. You couldn't do this anymore, couldn't pretend that you were perfectly happy when in reality you felt lower than ever, having lost your last remaining best friend. You came up with a story about needing air, about being overwhelmed and needing to fix your makeup if anyone caught you, but thankfully no one stopped you.

You wished somebody had stopped you the second you crept up to the second floor and instantly spotted your husband looking very cozy with the new employee that had started only a month or two ago, both of them huddled together in the dark store room above the shop. The pain you felt was indescribable, like a guttural stab that didn't relent but you couldn't look away from the sight in front of you. They weren't kissing but George was pressed against one of the many racks, her body pressed against him with his hands beside him clutching the racking.

They hadn't spotted your presence and you hardly thought they could, completely wrapped up in each other as they whispered between themselves. You wanted to scream, cry, completely break down but you had no right, trapped in an endless cycle of feelings but without the commitment. You weren't really married, only by law and he was technically free to see whoever- even if he initially said he didn't want to.  But it didn't stop it hurting any less.

You had to get out of there, disappear to anywhere where no one was around to see you break down and finally let out the gut wrenching sobs that were threatening to burst out of you at any second. You'd lost Fred and now you were losing George, the pain of your mental statement too much to handle.

You tried to think of a way to escape through the crowd without being noticed but your mind wasn't thinking clearly, you could only think of what was in front of you, the image of them together playing behind your eyes with every blink.

You began to turn away, no longer able to stand there and watch your world collapse and prayed that you could silently retreat without them seeing. Just as you turned, movement caught your eye and you couldn't help but turn back around, silently pleading that you wouldn't have to watch them kiss.

George had pushed her away. Had he seen you?

But then you heard him clearly, his voice raised enough that it carried through the silent, dark room.

"Get off me, I don't want you," he says with conviction as he blocks her with his hands, not enough to hurt her but enough to push her back from him to create distance. "I don't know what you're trying to do but whatever it is, it won't work. I love my wife."

The force of his rather blunt statement hits you like a tonne of bricks, the power of his words actually sounding truthful. The words repeat over and over again in your head like a constant replay and you feel completely blind sighted, the rollercoaster of emotions you'd felt in the past minute too overwhelming.

"But Mr Weasley," the girl says in a rather desperate, whiny voice, trying to reach out for him again.

"What don't you understand? I'm married and I love my wife, there's nobody else I want more than her."

"Y/n."

Your eyes shoot up at the sound of your name and you're met with the green-hazel eyes of George who looks horrified at you standing there, knowing what you'd probably seen and heard. You felt his eyes burning into you, as well as the beady eyes of his companion and instantly wanted to disappear again, feeling overstimulated and overwhelmed at the whole situation. It felt like it physically hurt to look into George's eyes and you just had to get away, this time without any hesitation.

You bolted down the stairs, trying your hardest to stay silent and to not cause a scene. It was like you had tunnel vision, completely ignorant of everything happening around you as you set your sights on the door and pushed past the sea of blurred faces, moving quickly with determination until you crossed the threshold of the anti-apparition jinx and disapparated.

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[green-enby]

Heyo! Have you watched Koisenu Futari (恋せぬふたり, Two people who can't fall in love) yet? It's a great series, just 8 episodes long! I binged it in one day :) [smiley]

It focuses on two aromantic asexual people living together. This is a little appreciation post, containing some thoughts that it evoked in me as an aroace.

If you don't want spoilers, please don't read!

It's so relatable how Sakuko keeps blaming herself all throughout the show… Insecurity stemming from societal expectations that dictate romance is for everyone, and that people who don't date are somehow "failing" in life; I think this affects allos as well.

When I broke off my romantic relationship, I too felt like it had been my fault, for not having been a good enough partner, for not being able to love them in the same way they loved me.

To finally learn that you are not "defective", that there's other people like you…! I love how the two MCs don't grieve their lack of attraction; Sakuko is perfectly happy discovering she's aroace. She and Takahashi are living their "best life" together.

Sure, many aroaces do wish they were allo, and that needs to be represented too, but this series to me really shined a light over why they want that: it's because amatonormativity is rampant in the world, not because lacking attraction is inherently sad. The main conflicts in the series stem from the clash between allo society and the aroace experience, after all. I think that's neat! It gave me a good dose of aroace joy—while still showing the hurts that come with it, realistically—and I really needed it.

I didn't expect her to come out to her family so soon, but whoa, that was intense. Her mother's negative reaction is what all people who exclude a-spec people from the LGBTQIA+ community should see, to understand that we face the same issues they do.

I haven't come out to my parents as aroace yet, and watching this made me realize how awful it actually feels to be in the closet. I somehow hadn't realized I am. I've always felt safe coming out to them as other things, as bisexual back in the day, and as trans non-binary.

It might be because my confidence disappeared when they reacted badly both times, but this coming out feels almost impossible.

Comparing it to coming out as bi, it's really not that different: if you're bi, you're promiscuous and date too many people; if you're aroace, you're a prude and cold-hearted. If you break away from the status quo, you're wrong either way.

But at least, most people do eventually understand the bi experience, if they understand same-gender attraction, and fuse it with straightness, even though it's a flawed method.

With aros and aces, instead, it's such an alien concept for an allo, which makes it way harder to come out and have to explain to them how to deconstruct allo-amatonormativity. It's exhausting. Thankfully, there's people like Kazu who are actually willing to learn about us. That gives me hope.

I feel like it's super eye-opening to find out the concept of romance didn't even exist in the past. Pretty sure that in Europe, it originated during the Middle Ages from the ideal of chivalry. So it's really just a social construct, and opting out of it shouldn't be so controversial!

It's just a set of pointless, annoying rules like having to kiss eachother, having to say "I love you", and doing it all a set amount of times, otherwise it's not good enough. What if we don't want to? What if it doesn't come natural to us? If it's just a social construct, fuck it, I'm not adhering to that! We do whatever makes us happy!

Even in the series itself, Sakuko too goes through a heartbreak, even if it's not the romantic kind: she valued her friendship and future cohabitation with Chizuru above all else, but Chizuru abandoned her, because of romantic love. It's not true that aroaces have it easy.

Like our MC, we have to deal with fear that we'll come off flirty when we're just being friendly, confusion over concepts that we feel we should understand, shame over the fact that we're different, fear of loneliness, frustration and pain that we'll always come second to our friends' romantic partners, or even trauma from a relationship or sexual encounter that we didn't really want. I could go on and on.

These last scenes really got to me. Especially the second one… I admit that I cried, when she had to turn her down, and it seemed like her aromanticism had ruined their relationship. It hurts that the way I am could seriously harm someone I care about. It hurts that most people work differently and that they can't help it, and that we can't help it either. I don't like being put in that position, to cause someone a heartbreak. I have with my ex, and had to watch them spiral down… It was horrible.

Still, I wouldn't change my orientation for the world. I'm confident in my identity, I love being aroace.

In the end, we can all reach our full potential, reach a point where we feel fulfilled and that we're living our best life, find ourselves a family if it's what we want, have our dream job and house. Being aroace doesn't condemn us to a life of unhappiness. That's what this series left me with by the end; it gave me so much hope for my future.

(I'm aware I'm coming off as a bit toxically positive here haha, sorry if I'm striking a bad chord; I'm just in a really good period right now, and riding this wave for as long as I can! Hopefully I can rub it off someone else as well.)

That said, I really loved this j-drama, it was funny and relatable and emotional, I wished it had lasted longer! It seems like the author isn't even aroace herself, so I'm amazed at how good the representation was! So much thought and research has gone into it, and it shows; the result is amazing.

Thanks for reading my scattered thoughts about this! 🧡💛🤍🩵💙

[mosswolf]

The Blyth siblings had the stubbornness of two people who had each adopted a stray cat with a terrible personality and were determined to have them cohabit. They’d made progress. But nobody could yet describe the reserved Edwin and the deliberately extravagant Violet as friendly.

hysterical. godspeed guys

[robotic-rin]

Psychosomatic Freedom (To Your Head)

(Beetlejuice x Reader)

Summary: Renting out the spare bedroom in the Maitland/Deetz mansion was wacky enough when you found out you’d be living with real life ghosts, but things only got more intense when a certain demon was thrown into the mix as well. Not only does he pride himself on annoying you whenever you’re busy, but he chooses to do so in ways that make you regrettably very horny for him. You do well at keeping your flustered reactions under control when you’re around him, but please try to remember that he WILL appear if you say his name three times, no matter the context or intent.

Word Count: 13,840

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: horny demon escapades, a dash of praise kink, even smaller dash of humiliation kink if you squint, beetlejuice being a bastard but he also whimpers, hurt/comfort, emotionally vulnerable handjobs, afab reader (no gendered terms are used aside from beej referring to reader’s “tits” bc of him being the way that he is), tried to limit my use of (y/n) but it is in there, monster fangs/tongues, overuse of bj’s mood ring hair, beetlejuice is so annoying that he loops back around into being majorly fuckable

Author’s Note: it’s finally happened. i’ve been meaning to write this fic for years, and i finally gathered the willpower to write it all out. i don’t know if i properly followed the post-musical summoning rules but tbh i just wrote this bc i wanna fuck beetlejuice and i didn’t do a lot of lore checking, apologies. i hope y’all enjoy regardless, this demon needs to be dommed so bad and i was more than happy to provide the scenario. anyways, you know the drill: if you’re good with all the tags and are 18+, please enjoy!

You can’t clearly remember the moment you realized that taking up residence in the Maitland/Deetz household was going to be more than you bargained for. The living family was eccentric enough, let alone the fact that they were currently cohabiting with a friendly ghost family. You had to be willing to accept a lot of zany things very quickly when you went in to sign the paperwork to rent out the mansion’s spare bedroom, and you’d say that you’ve taken everything in stride so far, all things considered. Charles and Delia Deetz were nice enough and stayed out of your business just as you did with theirs. They had been a bit strapped for cash after their investment in a gated neighborhood fell through, and it seemed as though they were happy enough to make some money off of renting out their guest bedroom to a sane person who mostly kept to themself. It was a win for everyone, so you got along just fine. Their daughter, Lydia Deetz, was less into staying out of your way, but she wasn’t rude about it by any means. She seemed to just be an eccentric teen who was curious about the person living in her house, and you’d gladly indulge her out-of-the-box conversation topics about the newest death metal bands and join her for an occult ritual or two. Classic teen stuff.

Of course, sharing a house with a living family was one thing, but adding a ghost family to the mix definitely livened things up (ironically). Adam and Barbara Maitland, also known as the previous owners of the house who had suffered a tragic premature death, were not what you expected from real life ghosts. It’s hard to say what you did expect when that bombshell was dropped on you, but it definitely wasn’t two polite suburban Millennials that felt more like a caricature of a couple you’d meet at a vegan farmers’ market than restless spirits haunting their old house. It was a wild day when you met them, assuming that Lydia was having a bit of fun with you when she’d ominously warned you that their house was haunted. But no, she was certainly not, as the couple took your moving-in day as their chance to formally introduce themselves. You didn’t actually believe that they were truly dead until Adam walked through a wall for you days later. Despite being slightly bummed that they didn’t look like the classic ghost with little wispy tails for feet, you were also a bit relieved that, although ghosts definitively exist, they can be just as friendly and unremarkable as any human. Not to say it as a knock against them, you actually found yourself hanging out with the Maitlands more than anyone else in the house. Against all odds, they were the most normal and down-to-earth ones in the whole household, and you were grateful to have them as housemates.

You got to hear all about how they got to the living arrangement they had now, and if you weren’t already rooming with ghosts, you’d have considered it too unbelievable to be true. But you’re glad to hear how well everyone seems to be doing with this new living arrangement, especially Lydia, who it seems had a really rough time of it right after her mom died. All things considered, you were beginning to really enjoy living in such a crazy house with such colorful personalities around you, all unique but living in harmony. Well. At least until he showed up.

You’d been warned that he does this from time to time. Part of their story told how he went from full-on antagonist to the weird uncle of the family, now popping in whenever he felt like it, often unannounced. He always claimed it was just to check in on his favorite mixed-life family, but in reality, it was mostly just to bother everybody.

As long as you live and die, you’ll never forget the first time he’d made one of his surprise visits after you’d moved in. You’d been sitting alone at the long dining room table, minding your own business as you typed away at important work on your laptop, fully lost in your task. Important files for your work lined your screen, all perfectly organized and sorted through after a long day’s work. But then, with no warning, your laptop’s display had changed to a blue screen, causing your eyes to widen in horror as you realized that it had fully died on you and probably lost all of your progress. You felt yourself choke out a horrible sound of despair, before a hand seemingly appeared from nowhere and pulled the blue screen back as though furling up a classroom projector screen, revealing your undisturbed desktop behind it.

“Woah, that was almost a really expensive mistake,” a gruff but playful voice laughed, coming from right next to you. “I forget how touchy technology can be when it comes to spirit energy. My bad, heh.”

You had whipped your head to the side to see a disheveled-looking man with bright green hair dressed in a black-and-white striped suit that looked like it needed to be washed and dry cleaned about 10 years ago. He was grimy, but almost purposefully grimy. Like it was part of his aesthetic. You’d seen some wild happenings in this house, but the sudden materialization of this random weird guy in the dining room was the first to leave you speechless.

“W-what…how…you just….” If first impressions truly were everything, he’d surely always think of you as the pinnacle of eloquence.

The stranger grinned at your reaction, obviously a bit pleased with himself. “No words, huh? Wouldn’t be the first time, I do tend to inspire that reaction in people. My undeniable charms aside, who are you? Some long-lost Deetz cousin visiting from WhoTheFuckKnowsVille or something?”

You finally regained enough of your speech abilities to respond just in time. “Uh, no. Just…renting the spare bedroom. No relation.” There was a moment of silence as he looked at you inquisitively, before you remembered your manners. “Um, I’m (Y/N). Am I right to assume that you’re Beetlejuice?” Hey, why do I need to have manners after he almost just fried my laptop? Your bitter thoughts go unfortunately unanswered.

He looked positively elated at your words, his dark eyes visibly lighting up as he sidled up next to you in your chair, ignoring the fact that it was clearly only made for one person. “Oh, wonderful! I get to skip the charades part with you. You’re already my new favorite person just for that, you don’t know how much I hate playing guessing games when the answer hasn’t changed in hundreds of years. But yes, that’s my name, don’t wear it out. Unless you want to see me. Then all you gotta do is say it three times in a row, and I’m there, baby. Morning or night, rain or shine.” Boy, this guy talks a lot.

You nodded slowly, still bewildered. “Ah, alright. Sounds good. Did you…need anything?” You couldn’t, for the life of you, get an idea of what Beetlejuice would be doing here.

He huffed noncommittally. “Well, usually I come around to see everyone here, since the Netherworld gets reeeaaaalllly boring. But lately, Lydia’s gone so much at school, and my old flames Adam and Barbara don’t always have time for lil ol’ me anymore…” He made a pitiful little face and rested his head on your shoulder, acting like a kicked dog. Despite his bad manners and lack of personal space, you felt a piece of yourself feel bad for the demon. Looking back, that was your first mistake.

“Hey, don’t be upset. I know we just met, but if you come by and nobody’s here, I could always…hang out? For a bit?” And that was mistake number two.

His full demeanor shifted in an instant, as though you’d activated a switch on him that could never be turned off. “Really? You’d spend time? With me?” For a demon, he did have very effective puppy dog eyes. If you weren’t locked in on what you said before, you had to be now, looking him in the eye as he turned his full body towards you, inches from your face.

“Sure, I’m usually just hanging out around the house getting work done anyway. I could use a little company sometimes.” It felt more like you were talking yourself into this decision rather than him.

“Oh friend, you won’t regret it! We’ll have such a nice time together, I can just feel it. Don’t ask where, heh.” He pulled out a small business card from thin air and slid it smoothly between your fingers. “And remember babes, you want me, you just call my name. I wouldn’t keep someone as smokin’ as you waiting. Not like I have a choice.” Snickering to himself, he’d disappeared in a flash, leaving you with your head spinning as you wondered exactly what you’d agreed to.

As time passed, you found that you didn’t even need to call his name for Beetlejuice to show up in the middle of your day and start pestering you. Eventually, it got to a point where, even when the other members of the family were around, he’d still choose to hang around you over them at times. After a good while, you got to a point where you nearly forgot that calling his name three times would summon him due to how often he popped in of his own volition with no warning at all. And somehow, he only ever seemed to do this on days where you had something that really needed to get done, never just on a day where you were already lazing about on the couch and eating snacks. No, instead, he acted like a bored cat with no sense of responsibility whose only goal was to distract you, and it’s a goal that he prided himself in succeeding at through various methods. Turning your pencil into a baby sandworm, making the keys on your laptop keyboard detach and float away, grabbing whatever you’re working on and zipping it up in a pocket dimension for a few minutes. One time, he straight up ate an important stack of papers from your desk whole because you weren’t looking when he told you he was about to do a cool trick. Anything to rile you up and steal your attention for a bit.

You find yourself in another situation like that on today of all days, when you’re swamped in assignments and don’t have a moment to spare. You can already feel his unseen eyes watching you as you sit hunched over your large desk-vanity, checking out what you’re up to before he acts. You’ve developed almost a sixth sense for detecting him when he’s invisible at this point, but somehow knowing that he’s secretly here just makes your heart race faster. There’s no feeling quite like trying to predict the first move of a master scarer while he’s in the room, but you quickly decide to put a stop to it today.

“I know you’re there, Beetlejuice,” you say, clear and stern. It would really emphasize how serious and non-playful you’re feeling today, if not for the way the corners of your mouth turn upwards of their own accord. Fight though you might, your body always gives away how much you enjoy the little games you two play. You allow your eyes to slowly wander away from your glowing laptop screen to stare at the large mirror in front of you, hoping to catch a glimpse of his figure lurking behind you and catch him before he can put whatever plan he has into action. Just as you’re scanning the reflection for anything that seems off, your vision is engulfed by a sharp toothy grin manifesting in front of you from within the mirror.

“Boo.”

He can barely get the first syllable out uninterrupted before you’re screaming and jumping back so far that you nearly fall backwards out of your chair, only catching your balance at the last moment. You turn your fiery gaze up to his smug face, still sticking halfway out of your mirror.

“You rat bastard!” You’re panting so hard that you can’t even think of a clever insult for him outside of playground swears, which only seem to egg him on.

He flutters his eyelashes innocently. “Aww, you liked it that much? Well, I hope it was as good for you as it was for me. There’s plenty more where that came from, heh.” He sticks a long, snake-like striped tongue out of his mouth as if to cheekily punctuate his statement.

Despite yourself, you feel your face beginning to flush at his suggestive behavior and turn your back on the mirror to conceal your expression. You don’t want to admit it, but over the past few months, you had developed an issue even bigger than the simple annoyance of a demon constantly pestering you: you found yourself feeling really attracted to Beetlejuice’s stupid face and mannerisms. Even though he was insufferable, he was also undeniably cute and charismatic in a strange way, and he always managed to get you riled up in more ways than one through his teasing. This would only make you all the more bothered by his antics, which in turn would make him want to press your buttons even more. It was a vicious cycle that only ever ended up in you feeling a unique mix of irritated and hot under the collar after he left. Why, why was I cursed with attraction to this rude little gremlin man? He’s gross, and crude, and annoying…and yet.

You wrinkle your nose to dismiss your thoughts, still looking away from Beetlejuice. “So did you come just to make sure I don’t get these assignments turned in on time, or what?”

“Or…what.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see him slide out of the mirror like a long snake, coming back up to full height standing next to your chair. “You know how lonely I get in the stupid Netherworld, so checking up on my faaaavorite little breather is a great way to fill my social meter.” He gets a little too close to your ear, stretching out that “favorite” into almost a growl, and you practically stop breathing trying to minimize the shiver that overtakes your body. Fuck this guy’s stupid sexy voice.

Hoping he didn’t notice your reaction, you turn your body to face him and stand up from your chair defiantly, face to face with his usual shit-eating grin. “What, you just don’t talk to anybody else in this house anymore? It feels like you only ever visit me nowadays, and I really have no idea what I’ve done to be cursed with the privilege of being your favorite human.”

Beetlejuice looks up thoughtfully, as though truly trying to figure out how this relationship came to be, bringing his face closer still to yours. “Well, you are the only person who’s ever voluntarily offered to spend quality time with me.” The answer is so earnest and straightforward, it steals the next witty retort from your lips and you just gawk at him, inches away. His eyes quickly dart down. “Hm, plus, you do have the best tits I’ve seen in a few centuries.” There it is.

You roll your eyes and groan, gently pushing his face away from you with your entire hand, only for him to lick a long stripe down your palm with his tongue. “Ugh, you are so gross!” You relent and move to wipe your hand on your shirt instead.

“Only for you, babes,” he coos with half-lidded eyes.

“That is demonstrably false.”

“Ok fine, how about: especially for you?”

“Well, it’s closer to the truth at least.” You fold your arms and cock your head. “What did you wanna do, then?”

“Oh, you should know better than to give me so much control here, (Y/N). There’s a lotta things I’d like to do with you.” He runs his tongue over fanged teeth teasingly, causing your heart to race once again. Beetlejuice really is a demon without a doubt, because he’s perfectly created my own personal hell. He must be some kind of divine punishment for my wrongdoings. A sexy demon who flirts with me endlessly, and I have to just be normal about it because there’s no way he’s serious. Maybe I burned down orphanages in a past life to deserve this.

“Yeah, you’re right. You’d probably turn me inside out or something fucked up if you got the freedom of choice. I’ll pick, then.” You quickly scan your brain for the quickest, most painless way to get him out of your hair. “How about a game?”

His face lights up with mischief. “Twister?”

“No,” you respond flatly.

“Spin the bottle?”

“No.”

“Hungry Hungry Hippos?”

“N-what? How is that even-“

“Oh, it’s not a euphemism, I just genuinely like that one.”

You sigh in defeat. “Ok, no to all of those. I was thinking more along the lines of The Quiet Game. You sit over there and be quiet, and I sit over here and get my work done, and if you stay quiet the whole time, we can watch a movie or something afterwards.” You say all of this knowing very well that it’s a pipe dream. Even if he were to be totally silent, Beetlejuice would have no problem finding new and inventive ways to torment you. He’s quite talented at that, as both of you are keenly aware.

Upon hearing your proposal, Beetlejuice furrows his brow and wrinkles his nose in a way similar to a petulant child about to throw a tantrum. “The Quiet Game? Are you serious, I-hmph, well, I can tell when I’m not wanted! I don’t need your pity games, I have plenty of exciting and important work things to do myself, like…um. Well, I’d have to check my dossier, but I’m sure there’s plenty of ‘em!” He spins away from you dramatically, drooping his shoulders to appear more pathetic. It works, unfortunately.

Your gaze softens slightly as you take a step towards him. “Beej, c’mon, it’s not that I don’t wanna hang out, I just really need to finish-“

“Yeah, yeah, human work, I know it.” He whirls around to poke at your chest accusingly. “Well, don’t let me be a roadblock to you, Professor Workaholic. I’ll remove myself from your esteemed presence. Just don’t come crawling back to me when you’ve worked yourself to death! I’ll be too busy. Filing shit. Or whatever.” His voice warbles at the end, and you’re not entirely sure if he’s doing it on purpose or not. He’s not the easiest guy to read, though you do think you catch a flash of purple streaking its way through his otherwise green hair. Without giving you time to respond, Beetlejuice pulls out a pair of scissors and snips a long hole in reality, stepping through it with one last pitiful look at you before flipping you off and stitching it up behind him, causing it to blip out of existence.

Just like that, he’s gone, and you quickly realize that you may not have wanted this outcome as much as you’d thought. He’s a bit abrasive, but he’s not wrong. A break would’ve been good for me, and spending time with him is always…a lot, but never boring. We always have fun together. You groan to yourself, frustrated that your brain has decided to come around only after Beetlejuice had already dipped. Damn, I shouldn’t have let him leave.

Seeing no point in taking a break on your own, you sigh, sit back down, and attempt to keep trucking through your work. It’s mind-numbingly dull, and you keep finding your brain wandering off to thoughts of Beetlejuice. His poor little demon schtick really does work, I can’t stand to think about how sad he looked as he was leaving. His big, expressive eyes…how cute and proud of himself he looked after successfully scaring me earlier…his pointy tongue running across those sharp fangs. Fuck… You find yourself blushing at the mere memory of that last one, your conscious mind pleading that you stop finding it as sexy as you do. But try as you may, there’s no changing the fact that Beetlejuice’s playful antics paired with his handsome face have spelled your doom. You’re down bad, worked up, and all alone. Well, looks like this work won’t be getting done because of Beetlejuice even without him here. Fuck it.

Giving in to your body’s demands, you stand up from the desk chair and head over to your bed, taking your pants off on the way and tossing them haphazardly into a corner to start gathering wrinkles. You have bigger things on your mind at the moment; specifically, imagining what Beetlejuice’s long tongue might feel like dragging across your skin. Feeling goosebumps beginning to rise already, you recline onto the bed and slip your hand into your underwear, wasting no time as you begin rubbing slow circles into your clit. You’re almost embarrassed at the fact that you’re already fairly wet just from thinking about him, but then again, it’s not really that surprising. Ok, yeah, this is exactly what I needed. Well, maybe not exactly. If it was perfect, he’d really be here fucking me. The mere idea of that causes your fingers to speed up their ministrations, attempting to replicate the pleasure your mind is imagining in real time. You’ve been here before, touching yourself at the thought of having sex with that demon, but it’s starting to happen more often than you’d care to admit.

Ignoring your inner voice of shame, you focus your whole energy on getting yourself off, your hips twitching involuntarily as you continue. You’re audibly panting at this point, chasing your release at a fast pace. No need for slow pleasantries, this is just about me relieving some tension. Once I’m done, maybe I’ll actually be able to focus on something besides him. Maybe.

After a short while, you can quickly feel your release approaching as you continue to think of him. You’re so close, you can tell that you’re starting to lose yourself. You imagine his big brown eyes looking up at you, expression clouded with lust. “Mm, Beetlejuice…” His pointed fangs scraping your inner thighs… “Beetlejuice…” His lewd face as you suck his cock... “Beetlejuice!”

“Well, well, well, look who decided to come crawling ba-“

Pulled from the brink, you practically jump straight up in the air from where you lay in bed as you hear a familiar voice, too authentic to be fantasy. You snap your head up to see Beetlejuice standing at the foot of your bed, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them and streaks of hot pink just starting to tint his hair.

You quickly regain your senses and pull up the covers. “B-BEETLEJUICE?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

Beetlejuice, however, is not as fast on the recovery. “I…you…” Slack-jawed and speechless, he stutters out a few syllables that somewhat resemble words before shaking his head as if to clear his brain. “H-hang on, you’re the one who summoned me!”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, I…” Your world suddenly comes crashing down on you with the weight of a thousand bricks. “…did. Oh, God, I did…” Your face begins to turn red hot, the obvious implications of this scenario making you want to pass away on the spot. Nope, not even death would help me get out of this one.

You can practically see the gears in Beetlejuice’s head turning, albeit slowly. “You…you summoned me? You called out my name three times. While…” The sudden lightbulb moment is very visible as his hand moves to cover his mouth and dozens more streaks of neon pink suddenly overtake his hair, his face darkening to match. For a moment, you worry that you’ve broken him, only for the demon to finally meet your gaze with a goofy grin that only spreads wider by the moment. “You like me, don’t you?”

“Obviously, dipshit!” You grab a decorative pillow from next to you and toss it at his head, which he easily dodges. You can only think to react with righteous indignation, despite the fact that this situation really is entirely your fault. Probably a defense mechanism to shield yourself from the fact that you’d really love to melt into a puddle on the floor right now.

Beetlejuice, on the other hand, seems far more elated about this than you’d ever expected, practically jumping around for joy. “You do! You really do like me! And it’s gotta be a lot, considering the fact that you like me enough to call out my name when you masturbate, heh. Do you do that often, or did I just do really well at seducing you today?” He strikes a mock sexy pose as if to prove his point.

Despite the added embarrassment of him calling you out so easily, you sit up straighter and raise an eyebrow inquisitively. “You’re…not mad?”

Beetlejuice looks practically bewildered at the very notion. “Me? Mad? Why would I be mad? I’ve been flirting with you so hard that I was offering to drop your panties since the day we met, and you think I’d be mad to see that you wanted it to happen just as bad as I did? Wow, you humans really are funny sometimes.”

“Wait, you were being serious? I thought you acted like that with everyone.”

He opens his mouth to defend himself, closes it after a moment of silence, and then moves to coyly rub his neck instead. “Ok, yeah, when you put it like that, I can see where the confusion comes in here. But yes, I meant everything I said! And I mean everything, babes.” He waggles his eyebrows for ridiculous punctuation.

You blink up at him in shock. No fucking way this is happening. No way is this demon freely admitting that he wants to have sex with me right back, no jokes anywhere to be seen. This must be a dream.

But Beetlejuice is still standing at the end of your bed, real as ever, and beginning to look more than a little bit antsy. “So, um…you gonna invite me to join you, or just make me watch? ‘Cuz to be honest, I, uh, wouldn’t hate either outcome here, so long as I can stay.”

You have a decision to make. You could say his name three times right now to banish him and never speak of this incident again as long as you both shall live and die, or you could finally get to live out the fantasies that have been plaguing you ceaselessly as of late. In the end, it isn’t even really a choice when the best answer is so easily clear.

Your eyes flick up to meet his. “Come here. On your knees.”

Beetlejuice’s face lights up at this command. “Oho, you don’t have to ask me twice!” With that, he practically dives to the floor at your bedside, looking up at you expectantly.

You smile slightly, turning to face Beetlejuice and slide your lower torso out from under the sheets to hang your legs off the side of the bed. Before he can say something lewd, you move to cup his face with your hands. Immediately, he seems taken aback at your gentle action from the stunned, blinking look on his face. Smiling softly, you begin rubbing his beard with your thumbs in a way that makes his eyes roll back into his head a bit. Boy, is he touch-starved. Let’s fix that.

Without another word, you lean in and bring your lips to his, giving him a fairly sweet kiss that he absolutely melts into. You never would’ve expected it of a demon, but Beetlejuice really does have the softest lips you’ve ever kissed, and returns the energy you give him tenfold. It’s pretty cute how much a simple kiss seems to affect him, and you aren’t complaining as you feel his sharp teeth scrape your lips, either. You part your lips a bit to allow his tongue entrance, and he accepts the invitation immediately. His inhumanly long tongue slips in your mouth, wrapping around and rubbing against your tongue almost like a tentacle or other complex appendage. You scrunch up your face at the intrusion, not bad, but strange how it feels as though it’s investigating your mouth of its own accord, prodding and rubbing at you. It’s definitely different from kissing a regular human, but it’s pretty hot, so you’re not complaining by any means. After a few moments, you feel the need to break away and come up for air, panting for breath while Beetlejuice just kneels there in front of you motionless, like he’s just had a particularly amazing out-of-body experience.

After getting a good amount of air into your lungs, you give a small fond smile at his flustered demeanor. “Oh, Beetlejuice, I’m sorry I was so dismissive of you earlier,” you soothe, moving one hand to stroke his neon hair. “You were really just looking out for me, weren’t you?”

He audibly gulps. “Y-yeah…”

“Aw, you really are sweet. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you, baby.”

The more affectionate words you say, the less composed he is as he speaks, made clear by his bright red face and dopey grin. “Heh, s’okay…I kinda like it when you’re mean to me…” Beetlejuice averts his gaze and sinks his face into your hand as he says this. His words are so muffled that they’re almost unintelligible, but you manage to make them out just fine.

“Oh? You do? You really like it when I’m mean to you?” He nods his head quickly, still looking down in embarrassment. Well, this is already going better than I could’ve ever hoped. “Hm, I think I can do that for you. How about you show me how good that tongue really feels, to start off?” You spread your legs suggestively, his head at the perfect level.

Beetlejuice bites his lip in anticipation, his shyness melting away as he’s reminded of getting you off. “Oh yeah, I’ll show you, alright. You have no idea what you’re in for, babes. I’m well-known for my skills in this field, you’ll have the time of y-mmph!” His blathering is interrupted by you grabbing the black tie that hangs around his neck and tugging him closer to you with a swift motion, drawing a whimper from the demon.

“Can’t talk and eat pussy at the same time.”

“Mm, y-you underestimate my abilities…” Beetlejuice always has to have the last word, but he at least doesn’t waste any more time. Tentatively, he slides both of his clawed hands up from your knees to your inner thighs, spreading your legs a bit more to allow more room for his head to fit between them. Your underwear is still on, albeit completely soaked through, which he seems to note with a quiet smug look up at you. In one swift move, he hooks two clawed fingers from each hand around the narrowest strip of the fabric on the sides of your thighs and pulls the garment down slowly, never once breaking eye contact. You’re filled with a nerve-wracking sensation of nakedness as he does this, not just physically, but on a deeper level too. You never realized how deeply revealing it is to have someone watching your expression so shamelessly, gauging your exact reaction as he undresses you. It makes you feel transparent and fully see-through, like a ghost.

Finally, Beetlejuice slips your underwear off of your body fully, twirling it around one of his fingers in pride before pulling back and slingshotting it away with reckless abandon. Returning his head to rest right between your thighs, where there is nothing blocking him from his goal now. You half-expect a stupid remark now that he’s finally right where he’s been aching to be, but he takes you by surprise by just staring at your body in silent reverence for a moment. It’s almost eerie to hear such a long silence from Beetlejuice, who’s made it his full-time career to annoy you up to this point, but it’s kind of flattering at the same time. After a few beats, he seems to shake himself out of his own stupor and looks up at you with a more familiar lopsided smirk.

Before either of you can say anything, he seems to remember that he was given a job to do and begins to unfurl that tongue that you’ve been daydreaming so much about. At full length, it’s about a foot long, forked and striped, always looking like it’s moving of its own accord like a dark slimy tentacle. You’ve seen him loll it out before, so you know good and well what it looks like, but that was always when Beetlejuice was trying to entertain you by acting silly or creepy. In a situation like this, however, it was almost enough to make you feel faint. Consequences be damned, this is the best decision I’ve ever made.

Ever a creature of impatience, Beetlejuice leans down to lick a long, slow stripe starting at the bottom of your pussy and working his way to the top, right up the middle. As soon as he makes contact, you feel as though an electric shock has shot through your lower abdomen. The first thing that your mind registers is how surprisingly cold his tongue is. Sometimes you forget that he’s not a living human and doesn’t have the natural warmth that you’ve come to expect from people. Instead, his body has a natural chilliness to it, and you’ve wondered before if that’s a demon trait or just a Beetlejuice-specific quirk. Either way, the feeling of his long, cold tongue on your pussy is delightfully shocking enough to excite you even more than you could’ve ever expected. He gives another long lick and your hips buck in time without any input from your conscious mind, and you cover your mouth to stifle a moan. Is it just because I was already close, or is Beetlejuice’s tongue actually just the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life?

You don’t get much time to consider this, however, as Beetlejuice notices your full-body reaction, chuckles darkly, and quickly dives back in for more. This time, he’s in it to prove himself, pushing more of his long tongue out to efficiently swirl all around your pussy, going at a speed that would be impossible for a normal human with a normal-length tongue. It’s practically chaotic, but it feels so all-consumingly good that you throw your head back, overwhelmed by the sensation. You reach to grab at his hair, which only seems to spurn him on to move faster, his tongue practically spasming as it writhes against you. It brushes over your inner thighs, your entrance, your clit, practically all of the above at once because of its length, and it’s starting to bring you back to your precipice at an alarming rate.

“F-fuck, Beej…don’t stop, whatever you do, please...” You pull at his hair with more force, putting some power behind your command and drawing a needy whine from the demon. To his credit, he doesn’t stop, and seems to be doing his best to speed up his already-fast work.

If his expression is anything to go by, Beetlejuice seems to take a deep pride in how greatly he’s affecting you in such little time, and he whimpers out little words in between his ministrations. “You-“ He laps at your clit with his pointed tip. “Taste-“ He teases your entrance with the broad side of his tongue. “Delicious…” He draws most of his tongue back into his mouth, only to learn forward to suck on your clit with his whole mouth, his beard tickling your inner thighs as he does.

You’re beyond the point of words, but your thighs tighten around his head to wordlessly show him how close you are. You close your eyes to find a moment’s reprieve from the overstimulation, but when you reopen them, you inadvertently lock eyes with Beetlejuice as he continues to suckle at your clit. You’re blown away by the intense way he looks up at you; his eyelashes are obscuring his eyes in a way that makes him look absolutely beautiful, and weirdly enough, almost sweet and innocent at this angle. This is the moment when you distantly realize you’ve fully lost your mind, but you don’t have long to come to terms with your newfound insanity as your orgasm builds at an exponential rate. Suppressing a lewd sound, you grab fistfuls of his hair, grappling for any sort of leverage as your hips begin to buck against his face and your orgasm is suddenly crashing down on you with the force of a tidal wave. You lean down and wrap your arms around him for fear that you may topple over, still keeping the same tight grip on his hair, which causes his head to pull back forcefully and his face to turn upwards. Your nails dig into his scalp as you ride out the pleasure, eventually releasing his hair when you collapse against his form, your arms draping over his back and chest pressed to his head, feeling boneless and overwhelmingly good. You lean against him for a good few moments, trying to catch your breath and sit back up at the same time.

Beetlejuice stirs slightly beneath you. “No need to rush. I’m doing great right where I am right now. Really, take your time.” You raise an eyebrow, only to quickly realize that your chest is, in fact, pressed directly up against his face. You snort, but remain still for the moment. The only movements in your body are the intense thumps of your heart and the gentle stroking of your hands in Beetlejuice’s hair. After what feels like minutes, you finally pull away from him and prop yourself upright to survey the situation. Specifically, you take in eyefuls of the demon trembling below you, who is looking up at you with a hazy Cheshire grin, licking his lips and very obviously straining against his pants.

You grin salaciously down at where Beetlejuice kneels, reveling in how much you’ve already affected him. “Aw, I bet you’ve been so horny this whole time and still ate me out first without a word. What a good boy.”

His eyes widen. “Fuck, babes…” Beetlejuice openly palms at his clothed dick, making you start to feel warmth between your legs yet again. “S-say that again.”

“That’s not how you ask for something.”

His eyes dart downward as he lets out a shaky sound beneath you, then slowly tilts his head up to meet your gaze. “Please.” The way he whines out the plea is enough to get you a little bit drunk on power. Jesus Christ, this man is gonna be the death of me.

“That’s my good boy.” You hold back a shiver at his immediate and audible reaction. “You really must have wanted this for awhile, the way you’re doing everything I tell you to do so well.”

Beetlejuice moans softly, making no effort to stifle it. “W-well, you did summon me, doll. It’s my job now to make sure you’re totally happy with my work. So, whaddaya say…satisfied with my professional work ethic yet?” He sticks the tip of his tongue out teasingly, eyes lidded.

You giggle at his antics, just as present during sex as they are always. If anything, you’re impressed with his restraint since, so far, he hasn’t pulled any wild reality-bending nonsense to fuck with you while he’s…well, fucking you. “Oh, absolutely. I’d give you a five star review on LinkedIn, no doubt about it.”

He snickers, smiling so wide that his fangs are easily visible. “Hell yeah.”

Looking at him fondly, you move your right hand to untangle itself from his hair and move to scratch at his beard, which Beetlejuice leans into appreciatively. “But y’know, I’m not selfish. You seem a little worked up there, huh? I’d never leave my favorite demon to deal with that all by himself, especially after how good you were to me.” Your hand moves down from his beard, coming to rest on his chest. “How’s about it then, bug boy? You want my hands on your cock?”

Beetlejuice’s big brown eyes are as wide as saucers, and his hair is so vibrantly hot pink that you’re sure it would be blinding in better lighting. “Yes. Please. Oh God, (Y/N), I need you so bad. If you don’t touch me, I’m gonna die and go to whatever’s after the Netherworld, I’m serious.”

“Well, I definitely don’t want that!” You sigh fondly at his dramatics, then pat the space on the bed next to you. “Come on up, I want you right here with me. And lose some of those clothes on the trip up, you’re making me feel underdressed for the occasion.”

“Y-yeah, I can do that.” He wasn’t lying, you really don’t have to ask him twice. He immediately begins shrugging off his iconic striped jacket and slips his suspenders from his shoulders, leaving only his partially-unbuttoned undershirt and tie on below it. He crawls up onto the bed and sits back next to you, mirroring your posture with an air that’s much more shy. Once he’s up, he unbuttons his striped pants and pulls them down enough for his growing erection to be free of their confines, though still trapped in his underwear (also striped, points for staying true to theme). You’d have expected Beetlejuice to be overly confident and full of himself in a situation like this, but now that you’re both in it, this reality-bending, all-powerful demon looks…small. Nervous. Averting your gaze. You feel a need to reassure him overtake you.

“Hey, Beetlejuice? You alright? I know I talk big, but…we don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.” You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Beetlejuice snaps his head up towards you with a wary expression. “No, it’s not that I…I mean, it’s just that…even though I say it, I’ve never…really…” He pauses his jumbled words to collect his thoughts. “It’s different…to have attention on yourself…I guess.” He sighs in frustration and looks away. “Ugh, this is ridiculous. I do want this, I swear I do. I’m just being…stupid.”

“Hey, this isn’t stupid. I’m serious, don’t say that.” You never would’ve expected this level of self-doubt and anxiety from the demon that literally held everybody else in this house captive during a temper tantrum once, but it just goes to show you can’t judge a book by its war crimes. “What can I do to make it better?”

Beetlejuice looks back to you with a vulnerable expression that you wouldn’t have thought him capable of. “Just…keep doing what you normally do, I guess. Like I said, the problem here is me.” He’s quiet for a contemplative moment. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m going to say this out loud, so if you ever tell anybody, I’ll feed you alive to a sandworm. For real.”

“I won’t, I promise.” You cross your heart for good measure, making his eyes soften their wary gaze.

“Ok, the thing is, most people have never really…liked me. I know, I couldn’t believe it either, heh. But it’s true, everyone that’s ever summoned me has just used me up for my power and hated me the whole time while doing it. Even if I tried to roll over and do whatever it took to appeal to them, it never worked, so I figured, might as well just do whatever I want if they’ll hate me either way. So that’s what I’ve done, and it made me kinda…not like me, either. I mean, my own mother thought I was a disappointment, so that’s pretty pathetic, right? The closest I got to a friendship was when Lydia summoned me, but I went and messed that up, too. But…” He pushes his forehead against your shoulder so he won’t have to look you in the eye, purple quickly overtaking his hair. “You seemed to like being around me, right? At least a little bit? And I guess I just didn’t want you to see all of me and decide you…didn’t like it, like everyone else. It’s one thing if I do something for you, but I guess it’s…weirdly scarier to let you do things for me. If you do, it’s like I’m not being…useful, or something. See, you can see how ridiculous this sounds, so that’s why it’s just a me being dumb problem.”

You stay quiet for a moment, taking in Beetlejuice’s first words from vulnerable standpoint with you. You don’t want to say the wrong thing and make him regret ever opening up, so you ponder all of the occasions that you’ve spent time with him and bring your hands up to pet his head reassuringly. He can get on my nerves, but for all of his button pushing, I always look forward to his company. He’s silly, and fun, and even unexpectedly sweet at times. “Well…I can agree that it’s a you being wrong problem, at least. Because I do love being around you, Beetlejuice. And I’m sorry that people have made you feel less-than in the past, but I think they’re idiots for missing out on the fun of getting to know you. You don’t need to be “useful” to keep me from leaving, I want to do nice things for you too, no conditions attached. I like you. I want you. You’re perfect as you are.” You press a tender kiss to his forehead.

If Beetlejuice disagrees, he doesn’t say. Instead, he pushes his face into the crook of your neck, trembling enough that you can feel it against your body. “I love you.”

You try to hide how taken aback you are by his words, electing to wrap your arms around him to conceal it. “I love you too.” And the two of you stay just like that for an impossible to determine amount of time, just holding each other gently. You feel wetness against your neck but say nothing and silently hope that you’re doing this right. He loves me. He really said it himself.

After some time, Beetlejuice pulls back and you can finally look at that cute face you’re so fond of again. His expression is sheepish and his hair painted in a gradient of light pink to magenta, tinges of purple confined to the tips of his hair at this point. “Sorry, I ruined the mood there. Not a lotta guys can have a breakdown with their pants down, but as you can see, I am a man of many talents.” His voice is soft, but sounding steadier and more comfortable than it did a few moments before.

You chuckle softly. “Hey, you didn’t ruin anything. I still had no plans of using you for myself only to leave you high and dry.”

“Heh, you mean it?”

“Of course, I mean, as long as you’re up for it.”

“Oh hell yeah, I can bare my soul and still be horny. I can multitask.” A familiar grin lights up his face at the sound of your laughter, his usual personality returning to him bit by bit.

“Good, I still had a lot of things I wanted to do with you. But seriously, if you change your mind at any point, please just tell me. I want you to be comfortable and enjoy yourself, so if you’re not ready, that’s ok.” Part of you realizes that he’s an all-powerful demon who could easily put a stop to anything at a moment’s notice if he felt like it, but another part told you to be extra kind and considerate with him. You want him to know that although he could forcibly end anything he disliked with his powers, he didn’t have to feel the need to use force. You would always respect the power of his words just as much.

He raises his eyebrows. “Heh, look at you, caring about me ‘n’ shit. That works for me, but what, are you plannin’ on tying me up and blindfolding me? Some real kinky shibari shit?”

You pretend to think about it, tapping your chin. “Hm, maybe not this time.” You begin kissing along Beetlejuice’s jawline, stubble scratching at your face as you do. You take the moment to scooch the two of you away from the edge and closer to the center of the bed, with him sitting up against your pillows. Once he’s comfortable, you crawl over to straddle his lap, causing him to groan out a beautiful sound below you. You finally remove your top, ridding yourself of your last piece of clothing before getting to work on him.

“Nice,” Beetlejuice half-whispers, having been watching you slowly peel your shirt off as though he were studying for a test.

“Hey, sounds like I might’ve secured myself that five star review too.”

“Oh fuck yeah, by tits alone. Don’t get me started on everything else, they haven’t even invented a grading scale that goes that high yet.”

You giggle, leaning down to softly kiss his lips and scratch at his beard. Beetlejuice immediately melts to your touch and tilts his head up, giving you easy access to begin trailing downward slowly with your kisses. You move to place kisses along his neck, drinking in the soft sounds that are forming in his throat and causing your lips to vibrate ever so slightly from the rumbles beneath them. Taking your sweet time, you kiss down to just above his collarbone and begin loosening his tie to get at him better. Once it’s wide enough, you slip it overtop his head and let it fall onto the sheets, then you unbutton the last few buttons of his undershirt so that that can slide off of his shoulders as well. Mimicking him from earlier, you chuck the shirt away haphazardly with a satisfied grin.

“Hey, watch the suit, doll,” he quips, with absolutely no bite behind the words. If anything, he just seems a bit breathless. I didn’t think he needed to breathe. Is he just doing that to egg me on?

“I’d rather watch what’s under it, thanks.” You scrunch up your nose playfully and return to your barrage of kisses, happy to now have his bare torso to work with.

“Wow. I’d normally roll my eyes at that, but I’m actually kinda flattered that you’re using lines that are so dumb, they sound like they came from me.”

“Yeah, your Beetlejuice-isms are contagious.” Without his suit, you can better admire that his stomach and arms are a good mix of soft and round and chubby but also pretty strong, giving him a really cute body that you’re getting a bit sick of not having your hands on. Immediately moving to rectify the situation, you pepper kisses and lightly suckle along Beetlejuice’s collarbone. You relish in the heavy rise and fall of his chest under you before moving downward to flick your tongue across his nipple. You’re immediately rewarded with a high-pitched gasp as he arches his back slightly, sending you the cutest pleading look right after. You’re unsure if he’s aware of how strong that kind of positive reinforcement is, but he’ll probably figure it out quickly since you’re already dragging your tongue across his nipple again, bringing one hand up to brace yourself against his bicep and trailing the other down his stomach with one slow, featherlight touch.

Beetlejuice snorts out a giggle between his more lewd sounds and covers his stomach protectively. “H-hey, careful now, I’m ticklish…and add that to the list of things you are not allowed to share with anyone, ever, under any circumstances.”

You chuckle. “I promise.” He looks utterly unconvinced but just pouts his lip wordlessly in embarrassment. I’m really not sure if he knows how cute he is and uses it to his advantage or if this just comes naturally to him. Either option is pretty scary. You move your hand back farther down still to finally graze the top of his clothed dick, fingertips dancing lightly against his strained underwear as you move to fully suck on his other nipple.

“Ughh, you’re such a tease,” he chokes out, moving to cover his face with one hand.

You frown. “Hey, don’t hide from me. It’s not fair if you get to look me in the eye while eating my pussy if I can’t do the same for you when I’m being a cocktease.” Begrudgingly, he grumbles something unintelligible and moves his arm out of his face, looking down at you with faux irritation, causing your smile to only widen. “Wow, your face is almost brighter than your hair right now. Wonder what made that happen.” As you speak, you drag your fingers down his shaft with even more pressure, causing him to make a choked sound. Your hips move to grind down on the thigh that you’re currently sitting astride before you can even think twice about it, the quick friction making you bite your lip to hold in a gasp.

“B-babes, I’m begging ya.” Beetlejuice looks unspeakably horny below you, but you can’t quite resist the thrill of making him work for it.

“Huh, that’s weird, cuz I didn’t hear actually any begging at all, Beetlejuice. But that is a good idea, maybe you should try it.”

“Ohhh, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-”

You bark out a laugh at his immediate and visibly desperate response. If he had any pride before, it seems it had vanished the moment that you first touched him. Taking pity, you finally remove his bottoms completely, feeling quiet satisfaction when his cock is freed and you get to see just how hard he really is. It stands fully erect and leaking precum, matching the color of his flushed face perfectly.

“Y’know, when you actually put in the effort, you’re pretty good at playing nice,” you coo, dragging a single finger up his length from bottom to top.

Beetlejuice represses a shiver and instead lets out a low growl. “Careful, I can still flip you over and rail you into the bed ‘til you can’t speak if I feel like it.”

“Not that a little power struggle with you doesn’t sound awesome, but I have a feeling you won’t do that tonight. Like you said, you want me to be mean to you.” You punctuate your sentence by grabbing his twitching dick and lightly squeezing, enough to make him squirm. “You want to see what I’ll do to you if I have control.” As if challenging him to say otherwise, you begin slowly pumping his cock, looking him directly in the eye as you run your hand up and down his shaft.

Beetlejuice breaks eye contact first, unable to hold your intense gaze as he’s slowly pleasured. “M-maybe, but I still have a good memory. Next time I’m in a more dominating kind of mood, you’ll b-be sorry y-mmph!” Whatever he was about to say is quickly silenced by you running your thumb over the slit of his cock and then immediately picking up the pace of your strokes, causing Beetlejuice to descend into a cacophony of moans that he isn’t even attempting to keep at a reasonable volume level.

You pause your ministrations. “Shh, Beej, other people live here! You want Charles to know you’re getting your shit rocked all the way from his home office? Or the Maitlands in the attic?”

He tilts his head to lean further back into your soft pillows, looking as though he’s truly considering his position on the idea. “Mm, well, my brain is telling me you want to hear a no, but my humiliation kink is just giving me a resounding yes.” This little shit.

You sigh and shake your head, only to catch something you’d forgotten on the bed not long ago out of the corner of your eye. Immediately, you’re struck with a wondrous idea. You grab Beetlejuice’s black tie from where it had been strewn across the bed and ball it up in your hand. Beetlejuice watches you carefully with a confused expression, tilting his head at your handiwork. Once finished, your eyes glisten with a mischief usually more common to his face.

“Open.” With a single word, you cause Beetlejuice’s entire expression to shift into one of shock, but certainly not in a bad way. Surprisingly, he doesn’t say a word, only shoots you what you can only describe as a proud, horny grin and opens his mouth wide, saliva practically dripping from his lips and fangs. This turns you on way more than expected, and you find yourself mentally debating with yourself on whether it’s sexy in a gross way or gross in a sexy way, before ultimately coming back to your senses and stuffing the tie into his mouth as a gag before you could think on this any further.

Beetlejuice adjusts the tie with his tongue to properly fit. He tries to speak, but the only thing that ends up coming out is something like, “Mm fhh dmmm.”

You giggle at his attempt. “Well, if you need to tell me anything important, I think you’ll need to take that out first.” He narrows his eyes in a look that very clearly communicates yeah, no shit. But he doesn’t make any attempt to remove it, so it must not have been very important. Satisfied with your new setup, you return your hand to his cock, pumping as slowly as you had been in the beginning to get him started.

Beetlejuice, however, is not having it. He nearly knocks you off of where you’re straddling him by violently bucking his hips up into your hand. You carefully reposition your naked body as he finds a way to smirk at you through his gag, because of course he can do that. If he can’t make noise, he can easily find another way to make his impatience crystal clear to you.

“I’m sure you think you’re funny, but the more time you spend playing bull-rider, the less likely I am to let you cum anytime soon.” Your words immediately cause his hips to twitch upwards, but he seems to keep himself under better control this time. Of course, knowing Beetlejuice, he’ll probably do it again within the minute if he thinks it’ll push your buttons and/or result in you possibly edging him. You decide to cut him off at the pass by grabbing his dick and vigorously jacking him off without any warning. His eyes practically bug out of his head in surprise before high-pitched moans and squeals start to pour out of him, significantly quieted by the gag in his mouth but still plenty audible enough for you to enjoy. And enjoy you do, keeping up your brutal pace as he squirms deliciously under your touch. Not content to be the only one taken by surprise, he grabs at your chest and begins squeezing with reckless abandon, rolling your nipples under his clawed fingers as he lets out a stifled cry. Between focusing on giving the handjob of your life, drinking in Beej’s reactions, and having your nipples roughly played with, you don’t even realize that you’re rocking your naked pussy against his thigh until you can feel your own arousal rising again.

Though you’re certain you could reach another orgasm if you just keep at it, you decide to slow down so your brain doesn’t fizzle out and forget to focus on making your demon happy. Instead, you lift your body up to bring your face right up to his, slowing your hand motions. Before anything else can happen, you spare yourself a moment to really look at Beetlejuice’s face from slightly below, and what you see in his eyes makes you almost cum untouched. He’s desperately close, almost lost in the sensations you’ve wrapped him in, but still anchored tight to you by gaze alone. If he wasn’t gagged, he would almost certainly be begging again, if he could get any coherent words in between his moans. As it stands, he looks like he’d give you anything in the world right now as long as you keep looking at him and keep touching him. And you’re happy to oblige.

“Gonna cum, Beej? You look preeeetty close.”

He cries out a muffled sound at your words, his hips practically shaking as he wordlessly begs for more, his pleading eyes inches away from your own, scanning your expression for any sign of acquiescence. Fun as it may be to play with him, I shouldn’t toy with him too much for right now. Wouldn’t really be fair after how well he’s treated me.

“Alright.” With a single word, you cease the cruel slow strokes that you’d been teasing him with and swiftly return to the frenzied, messy pumping of his cock that made him arch his back and practically scream beneath his gag. You’re relentless this time, keeping up the sloppy pace while you bring your free hand up to cup his cheek. You would’ve tilted his head to make him look at you, but he’s already been locked onto you since the beginning and you don’t think you’d be able to make him look away now if you tried. You feel dizzy and it’s intoxicating. “Cum for me, Beetlejuice.”

With a moan that almost renders his gag useless and the distant unexplained sound of fabric ripping, Beetlejuice cums hard, coating your hand and belly as you’re leaned over him in a fluid that resembles human semen way more than you actually expected. After fully finishing, he collapses back for a moment, removing the gag from his mouth himself and catching his metaphorical breath. You allow your own worked-up body to lay more comfortably against his chest while he comes down from everything.

“Ok, don’t be mad, I think I may have ripped up your mattress a little bit.” He opens one eye to peek out at you, as though actually expecting you to be angry with him. Sure enough, you look at where his hands were gripping the sheets on either side of him and see distinct, deep claw marks raking down the surface of the bed.

You hum noncommittally to yourself. “Well, I can’t really be mad about something that boosts my ego like that.” Instead you look down at the mess that’s been made of you and consider what to do about it.

Beetlejuice’s eyes follow yours down. “It does glow in the dark, if you were wondering.” His lips twitch upwards, looking quite proud of his fun fact.

“No fuckin’ way.”

“Oh?” Beetlejuice offers a smug smile, then dims the dull lights of your room with his powers until they’ve fully shut off. Sure enough, your entire stomach, hand, and part of your bed is glowing a fluorescent green, his signature shade. He flashes a proud smile at the sight of it. “Told ya so!”

“Ok, color me impressed.” You swipe some of the liquid from your stomach with a finger, studying it inquisitively. “Hey BJ, are you radioactive? If I taste this, will I die?”

Beetlejuice’s face flushes so badly, you can even make it out in this poor lighting. “Uh, no, but I might…”

“Oh, awesome.” You stick the finger of glowing cum in your mouth, relishing the taste of your favorite demon. It’s not too different from a human’s, but it does have a faint taste of sweetness, almost like green apple candy or something. It was certainly fitting for him. “Hey, bring those lights back up, I’m dying to see your mood ring hair unlock new shrimp colors when you see me licking up your cum.”

Wordlessly, Beetlejuice brings back enough light to see each other well in. You’re a bit disappointed to not see any new colors yet undiscovered by man in his hair, but in reality, you may have maxed out the hot pink’s vibrancy today. What you are surprised to see, however, is Beetlejuice’s dick already hardening again as you take another lick of his cum from your palm.

You blink in surprise. “Woah, how are you already getting horny again that fast? Do you have some kind of penis-based superpower that you’ve somehow never mentioned despite you being yourself?”

Beetlejuice lowly chuckles to himself, making shivers run down your back at the tone. “Eh, sort of? See, demons aren’t like humans in that we can all go multiple rounds, regardless of equipment, no problemo. We very often have enormously high libidos that a delicate little breather like you could never hope to keep up with, but hey, you’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.” He raises and lowers his eyebrows like a suggestive idiot.

You absentmindedly play with the tufts of hair behind his ears. “Well, you got me there. I’m down for another round if you are. I’ve wanted to ride you for months now, so the spirit is certainly willing.”

“Fuck yeah I am! I’m beyond willing! As long you know that I’ve got the stamina of a cheetah and can totally outlast you on this.”

“I’m pretty sure cheetahs are known for their great speed but awful stamina.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t give a shit.”

You give an involuntary snort-laugh at his quick retort, causing the demon to beam at you with unmistakable adoration, gently pushing some loose hair out of your face. It’s almost off-putting to see such an unashamedly wholesome expression plastered across the face of a supernatural being that has spent his existence being feared by so many, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t also bring you joy unlike any other to be lucky enough to see him like this. So many people didn’t deserve to, and you aren’t exactly sure what you did to become worthy of the privilege, but you won’t question it.

“Here, allow me to level the playing field,” Beetlejuice says, snapping his fingers. You whip your head around the room, but nothing appears to have changed.

“Uh, what exactly did you do?”

“Oh, nothing. I just soundproofed the room for a little bit. I wanna hear you scream, babes.” His eyes narrow at you as his arms engulf you in a light embrace, pulling you closer. His claws come up to rest on your shoulders, the pinpricks pressing against your skin and threatening to break it.

You raise a teasing eyebrow. “You…couldn’t have done that from the beginning?”

“I like the thrill of possibly getting caught, sue me! But hey, if this is what it takes to get you loud, well, I’ll make the sacrifices that I gotta.”

“You really wanna hear me that bad, huh?” Beetlejuice shakes his head so hard it looks as though it should be making a cartoonish sound effect. “Well, I’d honestly love to hear you without that gag too, so I guess we’re in the same boat.” You lift yourself back up to better straddle his naked body again, hovering just above his erect cock and flashing him a sly smile. “Now fuck me, demon boy.”

Beetlejuice’s eyes widen. “Oho, with pleasure.” More than happy to comply, he grabs onto your hips with his clawed hands and gently but firmly maneuvers you down to line up with the head of his dick.

Slowly, you sink down onto him, causing the demon to whine softly below you. After a moment, you’ve fully lowered yourself down and sheathed him inside of you, a full but not at all uncomfortable fit. You give it a moment of stillness to adjust before rocking your hips a bit, feeling his dick twitch inside of your cunt as you do. He immediately reacts by moaning loudly and snapping his hips up against you like a man possessed.

“Fuck, Beej…” You groan at almost a growl pitch, the feeling of him moving inside you almost too much at once.

“Mm…could do better…that sound was only maybe a three outta ten. I’ll have to-mmph-up my game.” God, it is just like this guy to make pleasuring me into a game. I guess I’m not complaining, though. As if on cue with your thoughts, Beetlejuice grabs your back just below the shoulder blades to quickly pull you in close to his chest, his claws applying enough force to definitely leave some red marks in their wake but not enough to hurt badly. The sudden dig of his claws only causes you to start rocking your hips at a faster pace, making it plainly obvious how much you enjoy him handling you so roughly.

“Y-you can try, but I doubt you’ll be able to hear me over yourself soon.”

Beetlejuice responds with silence, which you’ve learned usually means he’s planning to do something that he doesn’t want you to know about. From where you’re pressed against his upper chest, you can’t quite see his face either unless you craned your neck to look up towards him. You don’t slow down your speed, but do feel a sense of horny dread wash over you at his continued silence. Suddenly and without warning, you feel sharp fangs sink into the vulnerable back of your neck where your shoulder connects. It’s so unexpected and hurts so good that you erupt into a chorus of shuddering gasps, unable to even form sentences as Beetlejuice keeps biting and sucking at your neck. His claws keep your squirming body in place as he continues his barrage, and you feel him smiling wider and wider into your skin the more noisy that you get. It’s so good, so overwhelmingly good, having him inside of you while also using those fangs that you love so much on you at the same time. You’re struck with the realization that you can’t let him play you like a fiddle so well without fighting back. Before you can think twice, you turn your face into the crook of his neck right above his collarbone and bite down on the skin even harder than he’s biting at you. You may not have fangs, but you are determined nonetheless.

“Jesus FUCK, (Y/N)!” Beetlejuice is forced to pause his bites to yelp a few similar exclamations. “Ohoho, you’re lucky I’m a demon freak who doesn’t mind being ripped a new collarbone, cuz wow.”

An apology half-forms in your mouth before you realize that that was probably his weird way of complimenting you rather than sarcasm. “Well, m-maybe now, after this, you’ll get to go through what I went through every time you flashed your stupid teeth in public.”

Beetlejuice pulls his head back so his face is in your view again, and you slow your rocking against him just a bit out of curiosity. He’s sporting a growing smile that looks practically delighted.

“Hold up, were you really that into my fangs from all the way back when? You had it that bad?”

You flush at his wording of a situation that you, personally, do not find as humorous as he seems to. “Hey, it’s not like it was just that. It was…all of you, I guess. Every little thing you did turned me on basically all the time, and, as you can imagine, it was a living nightmare.” You realize that that doesn’t exactly make you sound less like a pervert, but it also doesn’t help that his cock is still twitching inside of you and you can’t exactly think straight at the moment.

“Wow, so every time I was around you, you were just being a grade A horndog!” Beetlejuice cackles at his own joke. He is the only one laughing. “Aww, looks like we’re more alike than we thought! Cuz, I mean, you were doing the exact same thing to me all the time, so. Fair’s fair.”

You groan. “Oh my God, you were literally going through the exact same thing? We could’ve fucked ages ago and put ourselves out of that misery!”

He snorts. “Hey, it’s fine. Y’know what? I’m glad it turned out just how it did. Honest.” Your starry-eyed demon lifts a claw to gently cup your jawline.

You put your own hand on top of his. “Yeah, same here.”

Beetlejuice grins, then his face immediately shifts. “All right, I’ve done a lot of talking and now I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you have visions of the Netherworld. Boobs in my mouth, please.”

“HA!” You practically double over at his sudden mood shift, wiping a tear from your eye. “I’ll hold you to that, big guy.”

Before you can even start rocking, Beetlejuice takes things into his own hands and starts thrusting up into you at a fairly speedy pace. He’s holding your hips to keep you balanced, as well as maneuvering them to drive himself into you better. The angle that he’s hitting you at is already starting to make you see stars, and you roll your hips to meet him in time. Apparently, he was not kidding about the boobs in his mouth request, as he leans his head forward to latch onto your left nipple, sucking and ever-so-slightly grazing it with his sharp teeth. To make matters worse, he grabs the other with his claw and begins rolling his thumb over it, all while keeping his eyes locked onto yours, just as he did the last time his mouth was on you. It’s all so good, you can already feel your orgasm building again.

“Oh, don’t stop, Beej, that’s so good…” You’re nearly at the precipice again, focusing your energy on getting up and over. The image in front of you is certainly helping get you there, as Beetlejuice is truly giving it all he has at the moment. His expression shows that he’s right on the edge as well, as you focus on his beautiful brown eyes looking up at you with unmistakable love and lust. “Mm, Beetlejuice…” His long tongue wrapping itself around your nipple… “Beetlejuice…” His cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you... “B-!”

Suddenly, you find two hands clamped over your mouth with surprising force. “Don’t.” The word comes out as a snarl next to your ear, taking you by surprise and sending a shiver down your whole frame. Before you can recover, an erratic snap of his hips sends you hurtling over the edge, an orgasm so intense that it makes your ears ring and your other senses dull for the duration. You moan loudly against his hand, which hasn’t yet moved and doesn’t do much to muffle your sounds of pleasure. Moments later, Beetlejuice moves to grab onto your hips and presses deep into you, holding you in place above him and filling you up with more of his otherworldly cum, all the while letting out gasping moans of his own like a man drowning. After filling you to his satisfaction, his arms fall limply to his side and you slump against him, both dazed and overstimulated. You catch your breath while Beetlejuice seems to be going through a factory reset, his eyes wide open and blinking harshly.

After gathering himself, he finally speaks. “Babes, I love you, but you really gotta get this name thing down if you don’t want me to suddenly poof away when I’m balls-deep inside of ya.”

You look at him sheepishly. “Heh, yeah, sorry. Good save though!” You finally lift yourself off of his dick, rolling your body haphazardly off of him to lay down at his side more comfortably.

He snorts. “Yeah, I bet you enjoyed me putting a stop to that. I’m thinking next time, I act like that from the start and we’ll see whose better at bossing who around.”

You begin lightly tracing patterns on his chest, resting your head on his bicep. “Oh yeah? And what if I wasn’t finished bossing you around yet?”

“Well, then you can peg me about it the next time!”

You giggle at his response while simultaneously filing it away for another day. Smiling into his bare skin, you feel your heartbeat begin to stabilize after quite a long period of elevation. Beetlejuice is still chilly to the touch, but in a way that unexpectedly comforts you, like a soft pillow after being flipped over in the middle of the night.

“Can we flip?” The demon’s sudden request paired with his big eyes meeting yours takes you out of your musings.

“You want to lay on me? Sure, c’mere.” You move to your back, patting your chest for him to lay on. He doesn’t hesitate, snuggling his head into a cozy position on your chest, his left cheek pressing up against your collarbone and his tussled pastel pink hair barely reaching up to tickle your neck. He’s in the perfect spot for you to drape your arms across his frame protectively, your hands coming up to gently rest on his shoulder and the side of his face. Your hands are tired and still, but even in a passive state, you find them needing to touch Beetlejuice without asking for your input. Even if it’s just the comforting brush of your fingers against his jawline, you can’t resist the ache to be close to him.

Beetlejuice leans into your touch. “Mm…you feel so nice…” He tilts his head so that his ear is pressed against your chest and practically melts against you. “Heh, I’ll never get used to that sound. Never thought I’d get to hear it so close, but it’s even better like this.” Your heartbeat instinctively quickens just a bit at his comment, and you feel Beetlejuice’s lips curl up in a smile. “Cute how I can change the tempo at will like that. Like the best radio in the world, babes.”

You blow air from your nose and kiss his head from above, mostly just getting his hair in the kiss from the angle you’re at. “I like your chilliness, you like my heartbeat…I’m starting to think this may work out for us after all!”

The demon snorts, repositioning his head to your shoulder so he can look you in the eye better. “Y’know, I really thought my awesome cock and subsequent use of it would be the thing that made you think that, but whatever seals the deal for ya, doll!”

“That too.” You sigh and close your eyes. “So, what are we gonna tell the others?”

“Uh, you got so horny after I annoyed you one day that you fucked me about it?”

“Beetlejuice, we are not telling people that.”

“Sorry, that you fucked me and you fucked me good. Better?” Your raised eyebrow is enough of an answer on its own. “Hm, and I thought you were a fan of honesty. Well, suit yourself. We can think of something more PG later, it’s not like we have to tell anyone tonight.”

“Well, I guess you are right on that front. I’ll think of a nice and polite way to bring it up at the family dinner table later.”

“Yeah, plus it’ll be a shitshow either way. They’re all gonna say that you’re too good for me, which yeah, fair.”

You brush some loose hairs out of his face reassuringly. “They can think whatever they wanna think. Doesn’t make ‘em right.” You kiss his lips gently, with the soft whisper of a promise at the edge of your own lips guiding your touch. “I love you, Beetlejuice.”

Beetlejuice looks so utterly overwhelmed by emotion after you speak that he can only think to immediately bury his face against you silently. He’s holding so tight to you, as though you could disappear at any moment if his grip slackens. Like you’re his lifeline. After multiple moments of heavy breathing directly against your skin, he manages to barely choke out a response. “Ditto.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the demon, rubbing circles into his back as a comfort. “Just rest now, baby. You did great.”

Beetlejuice looks up at you in relief. “Oh God, thanks for saying that. I’ve been drowsy since we stopped, I just didn’t wanna leave you alone.” Never would’ve guessed him as the most considerate type, but he sure loves to prove me wrong.

“No worries Beej, I’ll be right here next to you. I’m not going anywhere. You can sleep.”

With those last affirmations, Beetlejuice’s eyes almost immediately droop shut as he begins snoring lightly, asleep at an impressive speed for a demon or human. It’s pretty cute how tired he must’ve been before you told him to rest, you didn’t even know for sure if demons wanted and/or needed sleep til now. Yet here he is, making deep contented rumblings from the back of his throat, his head and torso acting like a soft weighted blanket on top of you. The presence of him sleeping soundly on you is deeply comforting, both physically and emotionally. This demon, who’s lived a million lifetimes and dealt with more shit than I could imagine in both the world of the living and dead, trusts me enough to fall asleep on me. He trusted me enough to talk to me about his feelings during sex. Beetlejuice, of all people. Even if I told someone as understanding as one of the Maitlands about that, I don’t think they’d really believe me. Or even really get it.

You reach one arm down to pull a sheet up over the both of you sloppily, just to have something covering you both. Human instincts for avoiding being preyed on by demons in the night always persist, despite your unique situation. As you adjust you pillow to make yourself comfortable for the night, you run your fingers through Beetlejuice’s hair, which is now settling back into its default green without any more external stimuli. You wonder bemusedly if it ever changes color in his sleep, then feel a peaceful rush of happiness when you realize that you’ll have ample time and opportunity to find out the answer. Overtaken by a quiet joy, you quickly lean your head over to kiss him goodnight on the forehead, trying everything in your power to somehow physically materialize this feeling of affection for Beetlejuice that is so strong and all-consuming, just so you could hold it so close that nothing bad would ever happen to it. In lieu of that impossibility, you hold Beetlejuice tighter in your arms instead, with the same goal in your mind.

Author’s Note: this took me an indefensible amount of time to write and if i look at it for another second i’ll go crazy so please take it and look at it with your own eyeballs so that mine can rest. on the fun side, can you tell that characters who always flirt with others by making bold sexual references but end up actually being really flustered and submissive when the other person finally reciprocates are my favorites? anyways i wanna pick this guy up by the scruff of his neck like a kitten, he is so special to me. originally this fic was supposed to be way less emotional but sometimes you’re writing and a character decides to have a breakdown halfway through a scene and you just gotta deal with that curveball when it’s coming at you. but i’m pretty happy with how it turned out, and i hope you guys enjoyed it too. thanks for reading! edit: hey you, want some more? i finally made a sequel lol (x)

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Congratulations Mimi on your 700 followers 🥳🥳🥳🥳!!! THAT IS AMAZING!

For your prompts, would either of these spark your fancy?

"I've always dreamed of watching a sunset like this." For Cody!

And/or

"Where will you go now that the war is over?" For Wolffe!

💙

Ahhh my lovely! Thank you so much @ulchabhangorm for submitting such awesome requests.

I apologize for the delay, my keyboard decided to die on me yesterday, so I had to wait for the delivery today. I hope you love these two stories for you. I'll be posting them separately.

I hope you love them.

Love oo,

Sunset

Warning: sand, annoyance, friendly banter, slight flirting, guilt, seeking forgiveness, rumours, slight touching, voyeur, I think that's all the warnings. If I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List   |   AO3 Link | Quote Roulette

Whether it was the heat, the sand, or maybe it was the aches from old wounds you suffered throughout your less than glorious career as a salvager, but everything in your body was screaming at you to stop and making walking that much harder. Your feet felt as though they were being dragged through sand. You stopped walking and looked down at the sand surrounding your feet. Right. You were walking through sand, it felt like you’d been walking through it for a millennia, and you’d be beyond happy if you never see another rock, bramble, or desert, beach, anything containing sand for a long long time. 

God, how could there be so much sand, you shifted your clothes, feeling the little grains in between your clothes. 

“Don’t fall behind.”

You glanced up to look at Cody, glaring at your relatively new companion, “Does it look like I’m falling behind?” You asked exhausted, annoyed, and at the end of your tether.

“Yes. Hence why I said, don’t fall behind.” He chuckled as he started walking again, shaking his head. When he went awol from the Empire, the last thing he ever expected was to be found floating adrift, in the ship he had absconded with; and regardless of how much effort he put into fixing the derelict spacecraft nothing helped. The hyperdrive was damaged beyond repair, and if it hadn’t been for you showing up, trying to salvage what you could, he would’ve been dead now. For that alone he would be eternally grateful.

A sigh escaped your lips as you kept trudging behind him, “You know the only reason I’m here is because you owe me for saving your life, and you said you needed to find your friend, and once you found your friend you’d be able to pay me back. However, in all that fancy talk, not once did you mention anything about trudging through this gods-forsaken wasteland of a planet. Which is not my idea of you paying me back.”

He let out a laugh, as he stopped and turned to look at you, “Cyar’ika, you know I’m good for it. I promise, I will pay you back, and I will even try and help you find your brother.”

You let out another sigh of resignation, “Fine, whatever. I’ll choose to believe in you.”

“There’s the spirit.”

“Who are you looking for anyway? I mean I know you said a friend, but if your friend is all the way out in the recesses of human cohabitation maybe they don’t want to be found. Ever thought of that?”

Cody just hummed. Truth was that ever since he heard the rumour that Obi-wan might be alive, all he wanted, no, all he needed was to find out if that was true. He needed to know he hadn’t killed his General, the man he looked up to, the man who … opened his eyes to a world he never expected. 

“I have cyar’ika and honestly …” he stood on the ridge of the dune, the Jundland Wastes of Tatooine laying there before him, “it scares me to know that he might not want to see me. Things … didn’t end well between us, the last time we saw each other.”

You stood beside him as you looked out at the wasteland, “What happened?”

“I tried to kill him.”

Silence filled the air between the both of you, shock and surprise radiating off you, “Oh.”

“I wasn’t in my right mind … doesn’t excuse what I did, regardless.”

“So you’re … hoping for what? Forgiveness?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just hoping that we can eventually make it back to just being friends. He was like a brother to me. Clones take brotherhood very seriously, and I betrayed his trust.”

“But you said you weren’t in your right mind.”

“Doesn’t change the fact I gave the order to fire.”

Your eyes took in Cody’s countenance, he looked apprehensive, his hands were balled into fists, his shoulder was squared off, everything about him screamed he was either getting ready to fight or he was scared. You slowly reached over and held his hand, moving his fingers away from the tightened fist. 

He glanced down as he felt your fingers loosening his, he couldn’t help smile as his eyes slowly met yours. It was a simple gesture, and that meant more to him than anything he’d ever experienced before. 

“If he is as good a friend as you say he was, and he viewed you as a brother too, it might take some time, but I’m sure he’ll forgive you eventually.”

“I hope you’re right, cyar’ika.”

You couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your lips, “You will have to tell me what that means eventually.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Mmm, yeah, you do. Especially if you want to keep flying in my ship,” you laughed, your smile slowly fading. “Is that why you didn’t want to fly the ship out here, afraid he’d hear the engines and go into hiding?”

“Yeah.”

You gave a slight nod in understanding, at least you were able to leave your ship with someone you trusted. If only your speeders actually lasted for the whole trip, your legs wouldn’t have been feeling like they were about to fall off. 

“What do you think? Camp for the night here, and then make our way into the labyrinth of the Jundland Wastes? Or should we just try and see what we can find before night falls?”

“No, let’s camp …” he pulled out his binocs and searched the area, he pointed to an elevated rock face, the ridge line looked flat enough, “that should work, and provide us with an unobstructed view.”

“Alright,” you nodded, “lead on.” You adjusted your pack, pulling your hand away from his, following him to the campsite.

It wasn’t long before you both had set up your camp, you were finishing up the stew you were making for dinner, when your eyes fell on Cody, sitting on the edge of the cliff, his feet dangling over the edge. You passed him a bowl as you sat beside him, “What are you thinking?”

Cody smiled as he looked at you, he reached up and gently wiped away some dust and dirt from your hike, “I’ve always dreamed of watching a sunset like this, but I never thought it would’ve been possible.” He focused back on the twin setting suns, “It’s beautiful.”

Your eyes simply focused on his face, and the smile he had on his lips, your heart clenched in your chest, your breath quickened, as you watched him enjoy his freedom, feeling so much in that moment. “Yeah, it is.” You whispered, focusing back on your stew, as you both sat in silence eating your dinner, as your knees touched.

Obi-wan watched the two of you from a distance, his thumb and forefinger stroking his beard. A small smile on his lips as he saw his Commander, his friend, his brother-in-arms, happy and not alone.

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[lorifragolina]

More than Roommates...?

Another entry for @harringrovesummerbingo!

It's a silly rom com and I tried to keep it short :) I hope you enjoy it!

Title: More than Roommates...?

Square & Prompt: C1 "Laughter"

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2501

Major Tags: Friendly schemes, Enemies to Lovers

Summary:

Steve and Billy are roommates, but they didn't start with the right foot... even if they became attracted to each other pretty soon. But both of them think that the other didn't swing the same way... Two smart friends and a good scheme are needed for making them move... or not?

Read it on AO3

“Robin, he’s not gay, it’s as plain as day”.

“I never see him with a girl”.

“It’s because he’s not… I mean, he doesn’t… he just goes casual”.

“Well you can just ask and remove any doubt”.

“Are you nuts? He’s my roommate, I can’t go and ask something like this”.

Robin snorted and shrugged. It was the third or fourth time they had a similar discussion, in a corner of the cafeteria in front of their morning coffees. Usually, Steve had some wet dream about his roommate and went to venting with her. 

“Well I’ll ask him then,” she said stubbornly, frankly fed up with the hesitation of her best friend.

“Don’t you dare! Do you have an idea of how much it has cost me to find that room? I can’t ruin things with him”.

“I know, Steve, do you forget we moved here together?”

“Yes but you are a brainiac and you have your room granted in the residence”.

Robin snorted again soundly. It hadn't been so easy as Steve was painting it,  for her, but she could understand his doubts. 

Moreover, Steve and his roommate had a rough start and now, almost at the end of their freshman year, things were smoother and it was better trying not to ruin them.

“So, did you have some action lately?”

Heather adjusted the camera and went nearer to the screen, smiling slyly.

Billy sighed. “Nothing at all… dead calm”, he moaned, shaking his head.

“Don’t tell me you're still after him,” she raised her eyes. “Why don’t you make a move yet?”

“Sweet Jesus, he’s not gay!” shrieked Billy, regretting immediately for raising his voice, even if he was in his room alone. “He’s not gay, I already told you”.

“You can’t say. Do you know how many people swing in both ways?”

“He’s not”.

“Did he ever bring a girl into his room?”

“Well Robin is always here, but…”

“But they’re having sex? No, they don’t, so?”

“Well, maybe they…”

“Why don’t you ask him out? What could happen? At least you’ll stop bothering me with that nonsense”.

Billy knew that Heather loved him madly and he didn’t take her words badly, but she didn’t live there and she had no real idea of the situation.

It was him who had to live with Steve, and he didn’t want to ruin the delicate situation they created lately.

They had bitter arguments at the start of the year;  Billy liked to blast his metal out loud and having large Skype call in the common space until late, while Steve loved cheesy pop music and he wanted to sleep in the middle of the night; Billy liked to exercise and go to the gym and take care of his appearance, occupying the bathroom for hours. Steve was equally vain, but ha was not a morning person, so he passed half of his mornings knocking frantically at the bathroom door, and when he was able to going in, he didn’t mind to use Billy’s hair and body product, driving him mad when he smelled the scent of his special hair mousse on Steve’s hair. 

One time Steve had run out of the bathroom yelling like mad because he found Billy’s body hair in his razor, starting an argument that lasted almost two weeks. As if that were not enough, they had argued also in class, bickering about some unimportant detail in the textbook and their feud had been the goss of the week. 

They kept being on each other's way in college orientation events and in the basketball matches, but after a really tense few months, they reasoned out as adults, then they apologized and the cohabitation had started to go better. 

The problem was, for Billy, that all the confront and bickering had made him fixating in Steve’s body language, his moves and gestures and to walk in the room when he was agitated, how he passed his hands in his hair or put his hand on his hips, and specially in how the little mole at the side of his mouth moved when he was arguing, distracting Billy and driving Steve really mad; he didn’t know that in those moment when Billy forgot how to blink, he was thinking of kissing that little mole and all the other moles in his face and licking his neck and biting him and…

“Billy? Are you here?” Steve knocked at the door before entering.

Billy was still on his Skype call.

“I have to go, Heater, I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said in a rush, closing the laptop.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you”.

“Don’t worry, I have already finished the call”.

“Ok… something important?”

“Oh no… family thing, you know, nothing important…”

Steve nodded, taking a glass of water and drinking near the sink with his hand on his hips, pensive. Billy had to gulp his agitation and smiled tensely.

“I was thinking to have a shower, do you want to use the bathroom?” He asked kindly, one of the things he learned to do to maintain their good relationship.

“Oh, no thanks, go ahead,” Steve smiled tensely too, washing a couple of dishes still in the sink since the morning. 

He was almost sure that he heard a feminine voice, he knew that Billy had a sister but it didn’t seem to him the same voice; Billy always closed his calls when he came in the room, because he didn’t want to argue anymore about bothering calls, but Steve suspected he called always the same girl, probably his distant girlfriend and for this he never bring any woman at home. Steve didn’t dare ask to maintain the balance between them and the peace they gained so difficulty.

He suffered for not knowing, anyway… he didn’t define himself as gay, he liked girls, but he also liked men very much, and Billy in particular was his type almost exactly, although they started hating each other; but he liked ripped, neat men, well trimmed, with an angelic nuisance and a nasty attitude; and Billy, with his Californian Barbie complexion, was almost near to perfection, making him struggle to stay formal near to him. Even if Billy still hadn’t picked up any girl at college, he had a crowd of female admirers and he seemed to enjoy it, so Steve knew he couldn’t have a possibility. Moreover, if he would come out with Billy, he could feel uncomfortable; he didn’t seem homophobe, but not everyone wanted to sleep with a non straight roommate. 

“Oh, shit,” groaned Steve, raising his eyes to the cafeteria door. 

“Oh, shit,” echoed Robin, for completely different reasons. 

Billy had just entered with a stunning brunette hanging at his arm, a beaming smile and gushing with happiness.

The girl was short but curvy, with pink hearted glasses and red lips, and a pair of mini shorts that showed her nicely shaped legs; the perfect Barbie complement for Billy, sighed Steve seeing his hopes shattered in the floor. 

Robin couldn’t also take her eyes off of the girl, definitely her type, even if she seemed she couldn't take her eyes off of Billy.

“Hey,” Billy waved at Steve, who he felt he wanted to die. He smiled and waved back. 

“Hello, I didn’t know you were here either… Heather just arrived by train to visit me”.

“Hello,” said the girl, lowering the glasses and raising her hand directly to Robin. “I’m Heather”.

“I’m Robin,” she answered, breathless. They looked at each other for a long, long moment, until Billy dared to speak again.

“And he’s Steve, my roommate”.

Heather smiled again, giving him her hand too. “Oh. I heard a lot about you”.

Steve blushed and Billy nudged her. “Stop it,” he hissed, then went to the bar to order the coffee.

“So, you’re studying here too?” Heather asked directly to Robin, who blushed, leaving Steve wide mouthed and speechless. They talked a little bit, ignoring Steve completely until Billy returned with the drinks. Robin got up to go to class reluctantly.

“Well I’m staying all weekend, I hope you can join us for dinner tonight,” Heather chirped with a soundly voice, and Robin nodded and went away, giggling. 

“So you’re the famous Steve,” she immediately turned to him, resting her face on her hand. “I thought you were taller”.

“Heather!” Hissed Billy.

Steve cleared his throat. “Will you… will you stay in our room?” His voice was oddly high pitched.

“Oh no, I booked a B&B here near the campus. I don’t want to bother you two big guys,” she giggled and they both blushed furiously. 

“But I hope you don’t mind if she stays a little in the room…” said Billy carefully. 

“Oh no, not at all”.

Heather smiled and they finished their drink, then she and Billy went away to visit the campus, leaving Steve sitting there, heartbroken.

“I don’t want to go to dinner with the lovebirds!” Said Steve later, outside Robin dorm. Robin pouted and looked at him with flames in her eyes. 

“Are you stupid?” She hissed. “I’ll go even if you don’t come”.

“If you like to be the third wheel…”

“God, you’re really stupid!” Robin crossed her arms and refused to talk again with him. 

When she reached them at the restaurant, Steve looked at her, really puzzled. He never saw her so dressed up before. She barely used makeup and combed her hair with a bobby pin to avoid hair in the eyes, but that night she was wearing a fancy jacket and pants and she curled her hair and painted her eyes and lips; she was really pretty, and when he looked the glance Heather gave to her, he finally understood why she called him stupid lately. 

Billy and Steve witnessed their shameless flirtation with wide eyes, unable to say anything and looking furtively at each other, utterly embarrassed. Steve was glad she definitely wasn’t his distant girlfriend, and Billy was glad that Robin was the platonic girlfriend of Steve, but they didn’t know how to break the ice to each other and bring the topic on the table. They kept talking about trivial things, some sport results and TV shows while their friends were talking intensely and ignoring them.

Steve and Billy didn’t notice that they exchanged each other's numbers, but when they left the restaurant, Heather announced that she wanted to go resting after the trip, but she would be free the rest of the weekend to do something fun with them.

Billy walked her to her hotel and Steve and Robin went away in the opposite direction.

“What the fuck was that?” Snapped Steve once they were a little far.

“What?”

“All that thing, you were… flirting with her? You had just met her!”

Robin shrugged, looking at her mobile that had just buzzed. 

“Well she’s not his girlfriend. And he clearly hasn’t problems with queer people”.

Steve sighed. Well, there was a difference between having a lesbian friend and sleeping in the same room with someone who wanted to be in your pants.

“You couldn’t stay quiet, not for a little minute, could you?” Hissed Billy walking with her.

“You didn’t tell me she was gorgeous and lesbian, Billy. Is your gaydar broken?”

“I don’t… hey I don’t need to justify with you! I… I just didn’t realize”.

“Well it’s the perfect excuse to make a move with him, don’t you think? And you didn’t tell me he had that juicy ass, you little scoundrel”.

“Oh, please, stop! It’s a coincidence his friend is a lesbian. It doesn’t mean anything”

“Oh, it doesn't mean anything, Mr queer like a three dollar bill?”

“Stop this nonsense, I can do nothing with him. He’s straight and we are roommates, that’s all”.

Heather groaned and entered the hotel. She wrote to Robin immediately, chatting with her all night. 

“Is there some club to go dancing near there?” Asked Heather the next night, peeping a glimpse at Robin. 

“Well the Pink Flag is over there and they have good cocktails,” answered Robin immediately, waving at the end of the street. “You don’t have problems going to a queer bar, right, Steve?”

Steve blushed and nodded, of course he didn’t have problems, they went there very often, but he looked at Billy’s face, who blushed, lowered his face and nodded too. The girls joined the queue hand in hand and abandoned them behind. 

Billy tried to smile, worried, and saw the same expression on Steve's face. “Well at least they’re having a good time,” he sighed, while the girls were already chatting with the bouncer, who knew Robin, and obviously Steve. He accurately avoided confessing to Billy that he was a regular there, but he couldn't hide it for longer.

“Hey Steve, it’s been ages, I missed you! Oh, he is the guy Robin just told me about?”

“Hello… hello Alan…” answered nervously Steve, looking at his feet and running inside before the bouncer could say more embarrassing things. 

Robin and Heather were still inside, giggling at the dirty look he launched at them.

“How you dared!” He hissed to Robin. 

“Well you needed a nudge,” she giggled, disappearing on the dance floor with Heather.

Billy was looking at him, confused. “I’m not sure what had just happened outside… Do you come here often?”

Steve blushed. “Well, me and Robin, we… well, you know…”

“And what he said? You… talked about… me… with Robin?”

Steve gulped, looking away, feeling the tense in Billy’s words. 

“She thinks… well, she thinks I have… she thinks I have a little crush on you, that’s all. But don’t worry, I am not…”

“Oh shit,” Billy hit his forehead. “Don’t you see?” Steve looked at him, puzzled. “Don’t you see? They set a trap! It’s so clear!”

“A trap? But why? You don’t… don’t you…?”

Billy snickered, a little embarrassed too. “Well, well it’s possible that I… I mentioned to Heather that… I may like my roommate just a little bit”.

“Those filthy little bitches!” Snapped Steve, and Billy laughed, heartily, defusing the tension between them. Steve joined his laughter, looking in his eyes and staring at his swollen, juicy lips.

“I… I never heard you laughing…” he said, touching Billy’s arm with bashfulness. “I like it,” he smiled then, and Billy melted, looking at him with glossy, puppy eyes. 

He cupped Steve���s face and pecked him, kissing his smile, then Steve pecked him back, and they finally kissed, finally biting each other's lips, with a stupid happy look on their faces. 

“So what will we do now?” Whispered Billy, taking Steve’s hand. Steve looked at him with a mischievous smile. 

“Well, my roommate is cool, you can come in my room later,” he grinned, and Billy laughed again. “But meanwhile, those little schemers don’t deserve satisfaction”.

Billy nodded. “Agree. Let’s make them suffer a little more. But first, kiss me again”.

Steve laughed, and threw his arms around him, bursting in happiness.