#like bj you probably have not even been here a full year at this point

[remyfire]

Love love LOVE that Hawkeye is so ready to murder for BJ here, and then BJ turns around and goes, "Oh no, don't worry about it, I sabotaged his chance to get home before I ever knew he did anything to me." BJ, you and Leo are truly a perfect match made in hell 💕

[mashbrainrot]

---- full transcript below ----

Sometimes Mike Farrell is so noble... even his wife can't stand it.

by John M Wilson, TV GUIDE MARCH 17, 1979

Call him the Jane Fonda of M*A*S*H.

Mike Farrell's got more causes than a nervous congressman running for re-election. Don't look for him, though, at a Republican convention. Arch conservatives would boo, and Anita Bryant would probably pray for his soul. He's 6-feet-3, a former Marine, happily married, and a staunch advocate of gay rights. So who ever said Hollywood actors were predictable? The only thing predictable about Mike Farrell is that he'll be back next season on M*A*S*H playing BJ. Hunnicutt, sidekick to Alan Alda's Hawkeye — two doctors coping humorously with the Korean War on the Monday-night CBS series.

That, and the probability that he'll have added a new political or social cause to his collection. The list began with the anti-war movement in the '60s and has included civil rights, the Fred Harris Presidential campaign, the Cesar Chavez farm-workers' drive, women's liberation and the ERA, prison reform, the Special Olympics for retarded children, and here and there an endangered species.

"Mike's just about caused-out," said his lovely wife Judy one evening in their three-story hillside home. She's also an actress, playing Nurse Able on M*A*S*H and turning up in commercials and TV-movies. "Because he's so outspoken politically, he gets every call in the world to come down and speak for this candidate and that cause. He used to say yes to everything. Now he tries to be more selective."

The latest call has come from New Age (New Alliance for Gay Equality), a Southern California group that last November helped defeat Proposition 6. a controversial initiative on the California ballot that would have required the firing of gay public-school teachers. Farrell wasn't one of the Johnny-come-latelys to the fray — he started speaking against Anita Bryant two years ago in Florida while there promoting M*A*S*H.

"Every chance I got, I tried to pick a fight with her. I slipped the subject into as many interviews as I could. What she was saying was so patently hurtful to certain human beings that I just didn't see any other side. It seemed very clear that it was a question of choice, freedom, privacy and human rights"

----

Few prominent actors have risked the potential stigma of speaking out for gay rights, and Farrell joked, "Sometimes when I speak to groups, I feel like holding up a big photo of my wife and family.'

Said Judy: "That doesn't really bother me, if somebody's going to say he's gay, or whatever. Who cares?"

What really worried Farrell was the threat of physical danger: a family friend had been jumped and badly beaten for taking the same stand. Some wives might have decided to throw in the towel at that point; Judy didn't.

"She's amazing, the support she gives me.' said Farrell.

Farrell, friendly and easygoing, seemed faintly embarrassed about discussing his endless political activism.

"I'm always leery of sounding like a Pollyanna. But I really believe people are essentially good and valuable, and I feel that all of us have a responsibility to other people. And when you have the nonsense of this celebrity status well, it's just too good an opportunity to pass up."

Which isn't to say he's ready for canonization as Saint Michael. He and the family had just finished dinner — fish for Judy and the kids, strictly vegetables and brown rice for Farrell — and he was clucking like a mother hen on the subject of organic food and the dangers of chemical additives.

Judy rankles at what she calls her husband's "reverse snobbery." They have a spiffy Volvo, for example, but Farrell likes to show up at fancy CBS social functions in his well-traveled Volkswagen bus

"There's no doubt about it," he admitted with a grin, "I can sometimes rub people's noses in it."

----

Farrell, who attended Los Angeles City College and reads dozens of books each year, hasn't come to his current consciousness easily. He's been through "a heavy period of therapy" and has participated in "sensitivity training.'' He also works conscientiously at "stroking" his two children, Erin, 5, and Josh, 8 who climbed all over him, whispering in his ear, getting hugged. In an aside Judy suggested that her husband's devotion as a father is partly a reaction against his own childhood and a painful relationship with an emotionally distant father who provided a role model of blustery machismo.

"Judy and I made a conscious decision with the kids,'' said Farrell, '"that they would always know they were loved."

Later, his close friend Alan Alda would add: "Mike's a wonderful father. It's hard work being a good parent. It takes a lot of thought and a lot of concentration, and when you're in his home, you can see that."

Farrell, born Feb. 6, 1939, in St. Paul, Minn., came to Los Angeles at 2, when his father found work as a carpenter in the movie studios. "They were magic," Farrell recalled of the old movie lots. "You passed into another world."

Captivated by the movies, he was in high school and set on being an actor when his father died. Acting was abandoned for the Marine Corps. "The influence of John Wayne did it. 'The Sands of Iwo Jima,' and all that." Out of the Marines at 19, he kept telling people he was determined to be an actor, but his fear of audiences kept him delivering groceries.

A friend finally persuaded him to enroll in Jeff Corey's acting workshop in Hollywood. That broke the ice. Then in 1961, while auditing a musical-comedy class at UCLA, he met a tiny slim blonde named Judy Hayden. She wanted to play a scene as Annie Oakley, but needed a Frank Butler. The instructor pointed to the tall Farrell. who was "cowering in the back of the room, terrified."

Judy Hayden became Judy Farrell in 1963, and later interrupted her acting career to teach school and support the family while Mike began acquiring TV and movie credits.

"She was really the anchor for our family. She made it possible for me to pursue my goals. It was a tough decision to make, but she did it. Now it's sort of her turn."

He was asked if his success has caused any strain.

"'Definitely,'' he said.

"Mike's always saying how jealous I am of him,'' Judy said. "I'm not really jealous. Frustrated is a better word."

His career gained its first real impetus in 1968, when he was cast as architect Scott Banning on Days of Our Lives. Two years later, he left the soap opera for a regular role on The Interns.

That lasted one season and he became "Anthony Quinn's spear-carrier" on the even briefer The Man and the City.

Farrell was under contract to Universal, miserable and turning down parts, when M*A*S*H called him in 1975 to replace the departing Wayne Rogers, who had played Trapper John. Mercifully, Universal's executives Iet Farrell go.

----

Farrell wasn't altogether unprepared for the big step to M*A*S*H, despite its success and prestige (it is now in its seventh season and has won nine Emmys). He had been approached once before about stepping in and he liked the enduring touch of humanity that has become a trademark of M*A*S*H scripts.

"I've always identified strongly with the show, with the kind of humor it does, with the message. In the back of my mind, I always felt I belonged there. I think what we do is special... the show essentially has a message that says people are valuable."

Not surprisingly, Farrell is a harsh critic of TV. "What it does to people's minds — the sexism, the violence, the stereotyping — is frightening.' He tries to select projects that reflect his social consciousness, such as his role as a violent husband in NBC's 'Battered,' a TV-movie about wife-beating, that was telecast last September.

Farrell's entry to M*A*S*H, though, was not without butterflies. The departure of Rogers was only one of several key losses over the years: McLean Stevenson (Lt. Col. Henry Blake), Larry Linville (Maj. Frank Burns) and producers Larry Gelbart and Gene Reynolds have also gone.

"After the elation of getting the job, I was beset by all the insecurity of having to prove myself, to measure up."

But he credits a warm welcome from Gary Burghoff (Radar) the first day and "remarkable" support from the cast with easing him in. (Burghoff is the latest M*A*S*H defector; he has decided not to return next season.)

Farrell and Alda, who share similar political views, were instant friends, and quickly became a well-meshed acting pair. "I think we work so well together, said Farrell, "because we love each other. Alan is just an incredibly willing human being, and he lets me share with him.

"It's a tough spot to fill, I'll tell you that. I've tried to create a character that doesn't compete with Hawkeye, but complements. When I say the character doesn't compete, we compete constantly. We throw down the gauntlet daily on something. If he does push-ups, I have to do more push-ups."

----

He didn't have time for push-ups a few mornings later on the M*A*S*H set. He was standing in the cold studio in his Army fatigues and size-14 combat boots, trying to get changes made in the script. "They try to make B.J a little too straight-arrow. I want him to be well-rounded, to be a little wacky like Hawkeye, and I have to constantly work at it."

Farrell, who directed his first show this season, also feels a certain frustration as an actor. "I know that my job is to be a supporting player to Alan. He's the star. But sometimes I want B.J. to have a chance to do more — and sometimes I'd like the same for myself."

That week, it happened that Farrell had plenty to do as B.J. The story being filmed concerned a war-torn Korean family that an exhausted B.J., stalwart humanitarian that he is, was trying to save single-handedly.

In the script, Hawkeye asks B.J. gently, "Beej. when are you going to learn you can't help everybody in the world?"

It sounded like a case of art imitating life.

"Farrell, who directed his first show this season, also feels a certain frustration as an actor. 'I know that my job is to be a supporting player to Alan. He's the star. But sometimes I want BJ to have a chance to do more - and sometimes I'd like the same for myself.'

That week, it happened that Farrell had plenty to do as BJ. The story being filmed concerned a war-torn Korean family that an exhausted BJ stalwart humanitarian that he is, was trying to save single-handedly.

In the script, Hawkeye asks BJ gently, 'Beej, when are you going to learn you can't help everybody in the world?'

It sounded like a case of art imitating life."

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph! reading your blog has become a sort of guilty pleasure for me. Thanks for everything, it’s so clear that you put a lot of time and energy into your content. I was wondering if you have any johnlock fics that feature a particularly well-written or memorable original character? I always love to see how authors integrate their own character creations into johnlock stories!

Hey Nonny!

Ahhhh!! This is a GREAT request, because I like well-written OC’s in fics, so yeah, this is a great list to make. Here’s what I recall from my bookmarks. Please add your own faves, friends!

MEMORABLE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS

Ex by Itsallfine (T, 1,248 w., 1 Ch. || Angsty Fluff, Love Confessions, Coming Out, Exes, First Kiss, Fake Relationship, Getting Outed) – One night, in the midst of their post-case high and on the cusp of something more, John and Sherlock run into John’s ex. His ex-boyfriend.

The Prize We Sought Is Won by deathfrisbees (E, 4,610 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Mild D/S, Oral, Military Kink, Bottomlock) – Sherlock's in love, or in lust, or both--unfortunately, the object of his affections is not only his completely oblivious flatmate, but said flatmate would probably run screaming into the hills should he find out. John's been invited to a wedding--unfortunately, the groom used to serve under him back in Afghanistan, and requests that John wear a uniform he's honestly not sure he fits into. Unfortunately for both flatmates, Sherlock's got a military kink the size of Kandahar and John wants to know if he actually can fit into this uniform or if his eyes are deceiving him. It goes from there.

Time on my hands by Mildredandbobbin (M, 7,179 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S3, One Night Stands, Mutual Pining, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Sexual Exploration / Discovery, Desperation, Body Worship) – Virginity’s a construct, a concept—what does losing one’s virginity entail for a gay man anyway? Sherlock wants to fill that particular gap in his knowledge but John won’t, can’t, never will assist and there’s only so much desperately unspoken pining even Sherlock can take.

High and Tight, Soft and Loose by cwb (E, 7,429 w., 1 Ch. || Jealous John, Miscommunications / Misunderstandings, First Kiss / Time, BAMF John, Insecure Sherlock, Clueless Sherlock, POV John, Embarrassed John, Adorable Sherlock, Junk Size, UST / RST) – John pressed the knuckle of his index finger against his mouth and sighed. “So, you're coiled like a spring and ready to be ... sprung?” “If you want to be pedestrian about it, yes.” “Like I said, you should do something about that.” “And like I said, pedestrian. What would you have me do? Take up jogging? Yoga? Oh! Unless you mean –” “I don't mean anything. Let’s drop it.”

Matters of National Security by mistyzeo (E, 8,465 w., 1 Ch. || BAMF John, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Dating, Bisexuality, Arguing, Stupidity, Teasing, First Kiss/Time, Hand Jobs, Frottage, RST, Idiots in Love) – John starts dating a male client of Sherlock's, and Sherlock can't figure out why he's so incensed about it.

High Tide by stardust_made (T, 8,540 w., 1 Ch. || Jealousy, Angst, First Kiss) – A little favour Sherlock stupidly agrees to do for Mycroft leads to John meeting a handsome, affluent man, who is going out of his way to woo him. Sherlock struggles with the situation and with his own reactions to it. Part 1 of The High Tide Series

Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w., 1 Ch. || Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock's perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.

A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua (M, 12,757 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, POV John, Phone Sex, Texting, Masturbation, Long Distance, Drunk Texting) – What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once: Flirting. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there. He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes.

Twelfth Night by yourdykeinshiningarmor (E, 15,139 w., 5 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Christmas, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Angst & Fluff, BJ’s, Anal) – John is invited to his aunt's Twelfth Night ball. Sherlock offers to attend with him as a friendly face among strangers, but John's family force him to address his true feelings for Sherlock.

Vessel by Rhuia (E, 15,695 w., 1 Ch. || Cancer, Medfic) – That was the surprising bit – the way his doctor said it, eyes shining with sympathy but breathing it out, shifting it off her shoulders and thrusting it onto his, making him take it like an unwanted gift.

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w., 1 Ch. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John, Past Abuse, Insecure John, Reassuring / Caring Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Understanding Sherlock) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

Winter's Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter's Delights

A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w., 4 Ch. || Post-TRF, John has a Kid, Angst, Reunion, Falling in Love, Open Ending) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.

Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (E, 24,284 w., 6 Ch. || Alternating POV’s, Bisexuality, BAMF!John, Jealous Sherlock, Romance / Drama, Sort-of Case Fic, Peril & Angst, Love Confessions, Toplock, Soft Idiots in Love, Post S3) – Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they've made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning.

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop, Past Abuse) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.

Where Else Would I Be? by cwb (E, 34,910 w., 10 Ch. || Retirementlock, Domestic Fluff, Falling in Love, Parentlock, Fluff and Smut, Reminiscing) – John and Sherlock's five-year-old granddaughter spends the weekend with them in Sussex. Sherlock happily indulges her whims, and John takes care of them while quietly revisiting the past thirty years of their lives together.

Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w., 4 Ch. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara's American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she's also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she's placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Sherlock Has a Boyfriend) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can't help but wonder if he's imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn't getting cold feet about the wedding... Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst, Promise of Forever) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w., 12 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Case Fic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage, Angst, Anal, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Spas / Massages, Shampoo, Jealousy, Fake Relationship) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w., 26 Ch. || Dollhouse AU || Case Fic, Slow Burn, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, First Kiss / Time, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Falling in Love) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”

Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV, Light Humour, Reconnecting, Declarations of Love) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.

Wars We Fought, Things We're Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w., 10 Ch. || Post S3 / Post TAB, Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST/URT, 3G, Mild Peril, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case, Protective Mycroft, Infant Death Pre-Story, Friends to Lovers) –  Five months after John's world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time, For a Case, Friends With Benefits, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Spooning) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

The Great Sex Olympics of 221B by XistentialAngst (E, 58,611 w., 10 Ch. || First Time/Kiss, Experiments / Sexual Experimentations, Multi Pairings, Voyeurism) – John Watson thinks Sherlock Holmes should admit that he, Watson, is more of an expert on sex than Sherlock is. But Sherlock refuses to concede the point. He comes up with an experiment plan that will resolve the issue. The results will determine who wins the prize. But sometimes even the best thought-out scientific study has unexpected consequences.

Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (E, 58,887 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Couple For a Case, Bed-Sharing, First Times, Confessions, Awkwardness, Sex Trafficking, Massages, Wet T-Shirt Contest, Group Therapy, Past Loss of Child) – Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly six nine months after series 4.

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

Secrets and Revelations by Hisstah (E, 83,535 w., 9 Ch. || Sentinel / Guides Omegaverse AU || Adventure, Violence, Anal / Oral, Omega!John / Alpha!Sherlock, Case Fic, Politics, Mild DubCon) – Dr John Watson has some major secrets that he's kept from his flatmate, Alpha Sentinel Sherlock Holmes. Now the Sentinel Tower is after him. Can John stay out of their hands until he can reveal his secrets to Sherlock? Part 1 of Secrets and Revelations

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w., 71 Ch. || Future AU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say: Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w., 21 Ch. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

The Swan Triad Series by Pennin_Ink (T, 121,660 w. across 3 works || Swan Lake AU || Magical / Fairy Tale AU, Romance, Falling in Love, Pining, Psychological Torture, Transformation) – Sherlock and John grow up spending every summer together. Their mothers' attempts to play matchmaker only fuel their mutual resentment and scorn. But then, one summer.

Colors by Quesarasara (E, 140,537 w., 17 Ch. || Pleasantville-Inspired AU || Soulmates, Colour Bonds, Alternating POV, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Case Fic, Medical Procedures) – Everyone on earth is born with eyes that see in black, white, and an endless series of greys. When you meet your soulmate, you finally see the world in color. We're all searching for the person who brings color to our lives. John and Sherlock are no exception. Part 1 of The Colors 'Verse

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton  (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own. (SC’s version of Sherrinford may as well be an OC; he’s well written and different from Canon)

Sketchy by serpentynka (E, 184,053 w., 83 Ch. || Post-TRF, Post-Mary, John Whump, Slow Burn Love Story, Case Fic, Art, Porn With Feelings, Switchlock, Travelling, Career Change, Family Secrets, Illness / Health) – What (and who) will be left when nobody cares about your Work? A slow-burn fic with cases, places, mistaken identities, unfair choices, essential changes, violent feels, blatant lies, fearless portraiture, family secrets, high-risk bespoke gifts, durable friendships, bedtime stories, foreign travel and tongues, sickness (and health), and the significance of things which are slow to unfurl -- but cannot be ignored. Oh, and...porn. Part 1: Sherlock takes on an obvious case (barely a 4) and meets someone who will force him to re-examine what it means to see. Part 1 of Sketchy

The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (E, 326,887 w., 31 Ch. || Omegaverse || Omega Sherlock / Alpha John, Friends to Lovers, Dub Con, Reproductive Rights) – In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate's secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through. Wasn't he? A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock's past as events conspire to threaten their future.

[rahleeyah]

let's circle back a minute, I was checking my dates here and tuckson lasted for roughly a year, assuming your headcanon that it started around the townhouse incident, and by the way they talk about in canon, you'd think it was way longer. Of course, it was serious, and it mattered, but sheesh. Poor brian lasted longer, I think, and no mention whatsoever. Like, yeah, he didn't play daddy to olivia's kid, but he did stand by her during the worst time in her life so??

What follows is a bit of a ramble but the tl;dr is this-

I understand why Tucker always gets the mention as The One, and I'm ok with that, but I would also really like to see more exploration of the Brian period in Liv's life.

Now let's get into it.

Two points here that I think are important to consider; first, Brian and Liv are together for less than two seasons, if you count the beginning of s14 where they're not serious but still fucking. By the end of s14 they've been fucking for one whole season but it's treated as sort of casual for all that time, even in her negotiation it's like yeah they're together but meh. They're living together for most of s15 but he's gone before Lewis comes back a second time. Tucker gets like one full season between townhouse incident and the breakup in s18, so call that a year. They were going out for drinks before that, could have been fucking casually earlier (as early as community policing), tho I stand by townhouse as the beginning of their big R Relationship. So Cassidy gets like a half a season/half a year more than Tucker. So yes it's true that he got more time sleeping with Olivia, but it wasn't like he got years upon years more.

So that's the first thing, is that Cassidy did get more time but it wasn't like exponentially more. The second thing is Olivia knew she was never gonna go the distance with Brian.

She knew it. She knew it in her negotiation, when she was already bored with Brian and he wouldn't agree to do the things she wanted to do. She knew it when he was relieved she wasn't pregnant, knew it when he was laughing like a frat boy at the awful Dane Cook esque comedian. Brian took care of her, comforted her, in the aftermath of trauma, but apart from that she was the one taking care of him the way a mother takes care of a child; he wasn't grown. He was fun but he made bad choices, he was sweet but he wasn't interested in the family she desperately wanted. She never would have had to sit in a car listening to what sounds like her boyfriend getting a bj from a stripper while she was with Tucker; Tucker was grown. And as much as Cassidy helped give her a home while she was recovering from trauma, Cassidy is also the one saying "you know Liv, don't ask don't tell" and "you were never gonna bare your soul to me"; there is a lot of Olivia's self she held back from Cassidy and a lot of things we're led to believe they didn't talk about. Now she probably held plenty back from Tucker, too, but she's drinking wine by the bottle with Cassidy and it's Tucker who calls her out for it, helps her put an end to that. She loves Brian, of course she does, but he's a whole dumbass, a cute puppy who keeps peeing on the carpet. Brian doesn't get a mention from Liv bc the writers set up the Tucker relationship to be the one that could have ended in a marriage, whereas Cassidy probably would have run for the hills before he'd ever put a ring on it.

But I like the idea that Cassidy also doesn't get a mention bc a) she knows Elliot will be like "that guy's an idiot and you can do better" and she doesn't want to have to defend her choice to be with someone who other people think is an embarrassment but who she knows was good for her which leads me to b) if she is going to tell the truth about Cassidy she also has to tell the truth about Lewis and she's not ready for that with Elliot yet. I think she'd rather tell him she fucked Tucker and watch him explode than talk about Lewis, at this stage.

NOW having said all that; I do think she should talk about Brian. I think it matters that she lived with him; yes they were never gonna live happily ever after but she LIVED WITH HIM; Jesus, Elliot never saw her with anyone like that. Elliot never saw a relationship that mattered that much to her, never got to see Olivia the long term girlfriend. The one who had a plus one to events, who was throwing dinner parties. Brian was there for some of the most important growth Olivia goes thru and I think that's part of why she can't talk about him, but it's part of why I desperately want her to. What is Olivia's take on that part of her life here & now? And GODDDDD what I wouldn't give to see Cassidy come back, for him and Elliot to talk about the woman they both love like. Fuck I would love to see that.

[ackermanshoe]

Edited lmao: warning this is kinda pointless and alot of farfetched theory and a veryyy long post please read at your own risk 🤡

Edit again: my analysis when I started it 1 month ago: 👩‍💼🖨️📇✒️🖋️✏️

My post now: 🤡🤡🤡🕯️🕯️🤡

Edit: I started writing this like ages ago but I don't see my own point with this writting and I'm editing it after reading @nini14 's Ackerman breaking the cycle analysis and I feel like both of these go hand in hand. So without further ado:

Triangles

Let's see as we all are made aware that aot significantly revolves around trios of friends such as the following :

Although these are the main trios that is noticeable, other trios can be made out by taking some characters from their original trios to make trios based on looks / character and dynamics. And this is where my argument comes in with this trio:

Their dynamic has always been mother father and son. Now let me explain, idk if anyone has heard about the drama triangle but here

These terms can be applied to MLE trio, Levi being the persecutor, Mikasa is the rescuer and the victim being Eren. In the first 3 seasons at least, Eren was being taken away and his decisions constently put him in danger, Levi being the persecutor who always gives Eren what he deserves for being a pain the ass and Mikasa being the rescuer always siding with Eren and protecting him no matter what. Do you see it?

This is Mikasa to a T.

The following is an example of the dad being the rescuer and the son "junior" being a victim, and much like Eren, could possibly refuse the hand that is helping him.

So that being said now that we have an understanding of their dynamics in the relationship, let's get back to understanding a triangle. Did you know triangles are one of the strongest shape because it has three sides that rely on each other hence shifting their energies on to each side and it makes the perfect shape for a bridge, architectures favourite. Why am I tell you this?

Because these dynamics that every trio is made up of in aot is because they have strong relationships.

Someone mentioned isayama loves putting move triangles and I couldn't help but agree, look at how many times he has placed Eren historia and an angry Mikasa? And subtly he has always ( to me at least) hinted the love triangle between Levi Mikasa and Eren, outside of their father-mother-son dynamic. Personally this makes sense to me the most, fueled by mikasa's dream. A choice was there to make and she unknowingly chose Levi.

Now this brings me to the death of all the trios Levi has been part of, from Isabel & Farlan to hanjo & Erwin to where we are now. Our situation before S4 was EMA+Levi = 4 people but we all know that a square isn't as strong as a triangle so something shifted. Eren, even with him in it Armin and him were more connected as for Levi and Mikasa as a pair it was more obvious. Especially in the conversation EMA had in that stare place as depicted on @gilly-bj 's analysis on similarities between rivamika and Mika's parents. Not only was Mikasa placed directly next to Levi although being feets apart in reality but her lines "another conversation only you two understand" it. Visually and verbally divided Mikasa from Eren and Armin and connected her to Levi. Both alone.

Yet another triangle placed by isayama intentionally or not is Armin Mikasa and Levi.

Because a triangle represents the process of recycle and reuse it also represent the cycle of life, an on going thing that doesn't stop, a history that repeats itself. And going back to Ackerman finally breaking this cycle of tragic fate, will they?

The fact that the whole manga series start at chapter 0 is very suspicious in it self. Why does it isyamaa? A 0, a circle that comes back around? A 0 which represents both the ending and the beginning? Why is the 1st chapter called "to you, 2000 years from now"? ( That's such a fucking impactful chapter name gives me chills )

Before my theory start I just wanna add that the story started from a narrative perspective makes me wanna believe in rivamika even more. Did eldians share the same fate in 2000 years? Who knows, but I know for sure Erens and mikasa's dynamic as the impulsive hotheaded doer and their protective calm but strong friend thinker will continue forever just like the never ending triangles.

I forgot all these ppls names on chaoter 0 so PLS bare with me.

The main dude who heavily resembles Mikasa even tho he is a man, has a incredible power just like the Ackerman's as a human AND he can shift into a titan???? Last time I checked weren't Ackerman's the bio product of titans? Remember is science is on a ongoing journey and forever progressing towards the impossible ;)

Hmmm

The little girl who resembles Gabi, who has the same dynamic as Eren, the girl also looks up to his inhumanly powers, a little too much alike Eren's idolisation of Levi ( and looking up to Mikasa's strength I think )?

Lastly, chapter 0 makes me believe it was set in the future. Look at the buildings, 2 story buildings I don't remember seeing buildings like this in the pre time skip era have you? I could be wrong tho.

If Isayama is as smart as we think he is then he might have related this chapter to the whole plot of aot. 🤷 Or it could mean something. And here's where my theory comes in and it may not be the most favourable for eldians. Let me start with the good part tho, the guy who looked like Mikasa is could be a descendant from the Ackerman clan, but he isn't half and half like Mikasa and Levi, he's full blooded. Which might be why he has the power to shift ( idk this kinda don't make sense since Mikasa and Levi can't buy hush )

So let's say rivamika got married had a family they always wanted and had the peaceful life and 2000 years from then this guy^ existed. Oddly familiar to great great great grammakasa 💀💀.

The cycle never ended for eldians, the whole world could still be mad at them for Erens action and has the prejudice against them for a long time. And the fact that they can shift is never going to change even 2000 years in the future. And the guy ( omg I keep calling him the guy cause I literally can not be bothered figuring out his name ) who lives in a far more developed society with richer civilization within the wall. It could be possible that Ymir or someone erased the eldians memories ONCE AGAIN after the rumbling ended. Because Mikasa levi weren't effected they probably were excused and got to live as they pleased. This dude is also the reason why I believe isayama does not consider the Ackerman's as side characters at all. In the end the story might have actually started with them, alluding to "the ending is just the beginning" as said by kingsama himself. ( Wtf am I saying lol )

So yeah in conclusion as I said yes story is weirdly really influenced by a large amount of triangles and loops. And yes ackerman probably would break the cycle of death after all living through hell fighting hell all for what? If not recreating into a heaven, giving it new life. I do believe in rivamika living the life they are destined for with each other but eldians fate might just be too tragic for me to see them as truly free people who gets to roam around outside the walls as they please.

I guess my point is that everything that goes around will come around, that will bring good karma for the Ackerman's and maybe a repeation of the past for the rest of the world. 😩😩 I think I fully somehow believe Eren is gone for good. Unless isayama draws him waking up from a long dream on his bed then 💀👀👀 I will throw myself away.

Thank you for reading 💞 once again I'm so sorry this post isn't as good as I'd like it to be I am sleep deprived right now and it isn't worded as well as of like it to be. But hope my delulu ness was enjoyable at least. ✌️💀

[got-any-references]

What are your fav beetlebabes headcanons? Also, love your stuff <3

Thank you <3. And thank you for the wait cause oh boy if I don’t answer this ask with a ridiculous amount of art how will I live?

*Digging out the dust covered manuscript that is my nonexistent Beetlebabes fic from under the floorboards* It’s showtime.

So...Lydia is the one who falls first. She is about 17 or 18 at the time, so this is very much an “I have a teen crush on someone I am not supposed to” type of deal. Honestly they fell in love with each other way before that but like, platonically 

Beej is...horribly oblivious XD. Honestly its for the best because Lydia spends the better part of her pre-college summer freaking about because any time her best friend walks in the door her heart wants to go bull-riding in her chest and if she actually has to confront her feelings she might just explode.

Then, just before Lydia was supposed to go away to college, Beetlejuice...disappears. He leaves a note, saying he’ll be back, but weeks turn into months, months turn into a year, and no one either in the living world or the netherworld has seen a hair of him. Lydia goes through college without really knowing what to do with herself, missing what was probably the closest person in her life. She graduates with a journalism degree and a minor in photography. She works for a newspaper as an investigative journalist before breaking off over less than great circumstances and going off on her own.

She’s 25 when she establishes herself as a pivate eye, with an enormous amount of anonymous sources being dead people. Also, this takes place in New York City.

(Yes she absolutely does exorcisms on the side).

She’s following a rather stange missing persons case when one of her sources points to a run down establishment that is 100% totally haunted. Except when she goes there she doesn’t find any ghosts, but rather

Beetlejuice. And he looks awful. And very much human.

Lydia: You look like hell.

Beej: Yeah, I just got back.

...

Beej: Also I’ma pass out now so you better catch me.

So he crashes at Lydia’s place, and the whole thing turns into solving the crime as well as Beej’s  mysterious aquirement of a beating heart and working lungs. He doesn’t remember how that’s happened, only now everything is Too Much with Too Many Feelings. Speaking of feelings, you bet your ass there is PINING. SO much pining. Lydia’s best friend comes back and suddenly those feelings she’d dismissed as a stupid teenage crush come FLOODING BACK. 

While Lydia’s internally feaking out over her feelings (it's totally normal and platonic to wanna kiss your best friend while he sleeps, right??), Beetlejuice is, you guessed it, totally oblivious! To his own feelings especially! All he knows is that it's his best friend only now she seems like a completely different person, and hot. She is now hot. His mad respect for Lydia makes him bury that thought deep, deep down. Also the whole marriage deal is a source on bad memories for both of them and he doesn’t wanna ruin the only good thing he’s ever had and-

Anyway, more pining:

Lydia’s feelings bring out resentment, too. She hates that Beej calls her kid, because that means he still sees her as one, and her ego and her desire for him make her want him to see her, the woman who's seen some real shit in the name of finding the truth, who can take care of herself, and who is very different from that angsty 15 year old girl on the roof. 

It all comes ahead to a big confrontation where Lydia is shot, and Beetlejuice has to drag her to the hospital without any knowledge of how human bodies work and he has no magic so he can’t help her-

The hospital needs to know his relationship to her when they take her away, and Beetlejuice knows they wont let him in unless he’s close family so he is blurts out: “Husband. Yeah, I’m her...husband.”

Lydia wakes up with a patched up hole in her side and Beetlejuice clinging to her hand. She’s happy she’s alive, but also angry, because she could have avoided all of this. She was competent enough to not need anyone to rescue her. 

She wants to get back on the case as soon as possible, she found the key lead, but Beej doesn’t wanna hear it, cause he saw way too much of her blood and he’s not big on how human bodies work, but he's pretty sure that shit’s supposed to stay inside. They’re arguing when the nurse comes in and adresses him as “Mr. Deetz.”

Lydia snatches the clipboard away, sees that he’s told them she’s his wife, and is livid. Because crush or not the wedding thing had a whole lot of baggage she does not want to unpack. She has to confront the fact that her feelings are for someone who manipulated her into marriage at 15 and who she’s not supposed to see in that way but she does anyway.

And Beej, a dumbass but also angry cause she almost died out of a stupid reckless mistake is like: "Why are you all mad? It was a green card thing. It's not like it means anything." And that gets Lyds even more upset, with him cause he's an idiot, and with herself because she's still pining for someone who, she thinks, still sees her as a child. 

Lyds, getting her coat: "Fuck off." 

BJ: "Kid-"

 Lydia: "Stop calling me that! I haven't been a child since my mother died. I haven't been a child since you showed up! I haven't been a child since I've started this, since I moved here, since the first asshole tried to kill me. I've been through literal hell and I've had to pull myself out of it all on my own because I was still here and you left."

There's a beat of silence as Lydia realizes what she just said. 

Lydia: "And that's fine. Because I don't need you. I don't need anyone. You taught me that, at least." She yanks her coat onto her shoulders and turns to go.

 BJ, quietly, but its clear he's angry: "Do you think I wanted to leave?" 

Lydia: "I don't know what you wanted. Do you even know what you wanted?" She pauses at the door, turns to him. "Do you know what you want, Betelgeuse?" 

BJ: "I-" 

He stops. He can't look her in the eye anymore. You. I want you. Lydia scoffs, turns to go. 

BJ: "Lydia, wait-" 

Lydia: "Fuck. Off."

She leaves, and he just stands there, floored by his too little too late realization. Lydia thinks the best thing to do after leaving the hospital with a bullet hole in her side and hopped up on painkillers is to go get drunk! Self-preservation? None

Beetlejuice finally finds her drunk off her ass and suddenly in a great mood. He grabs her under the arms like "Whelp. Time to go." 

Lydia: "Nooo come on-" 

BJ: "Aren't you on hospital drugs? Doesn't that shit kill you breathers if you mix it all up?" 

Lydia: ":D I stopped taking them :'D it hurts like a bitch." 

BJ: "I guess I have the shared braincell now. Okay, time to go."

He manages to get her in the car without incident, but when he gets in the driver's seat suddenly Lydia's all over him.

BJ, with a lap full of drunk Lydia: "What. What are you doing." 

Lydia: "Beeetlejuice." 

BJ: "Yeees?" 

Lydia, smiling all dopey as she cups his cheeks: "Beeetlejuuuice."

BJ: "What" 

Lydia's finger hovers over his nose, as if to boop him. He closes his eyes. And suddenly her lips are on his. She tastes like alcohol and hospital food and as she pulls away he can't think. Then she starts laughing. "Ha! Gotchaaa! Classic Bait and Switch!"

And he’s pissed.

BJ: "Ha. Ha. Good one, Lyds." 

He dumps her out of his lap and into the passenger seat. Lydia blinks in confusion. Now she's cold. She wants to ask, but her mental faculties aren't all with her at the moment. He drives them home and helps her up the stairs before dumping her onto her bed. "Well. Bye." Lydia scrambles up the bed. The car ride gave her enough time to be at least a bit sober, and everything before getting here is blurry. "Where are you going?" Beetlejuice turns around, the widest smile on his face. She's confused for a moment before she realizes he's vibrating with rage. "Ya said you want me gone? Great! You don't need me, you can do your weird little suicidal quest thing yourself!" Lydia looks lost. They had a fight but she'd rarely seen him this angry. "If its about the thing at the hospital, I didn't- I didn't mean it-"

Beetlejuice: "Really? You'd think you'd be glad to have me gone. Why would you want a creep like me around? The whole marriage thing didn't just disappear, after all! Great to know you can still pull one on me, huh?"

Lydia: "Pull what, Beetlejuice-"

She remembers, hazily, the car ride.

They stare at each other for a moment Beej is breathing heavily, he's not used to living person emotions, ones you can feel with your whole body instead of just as an abstract thing, but its clear he's holding back

Lydia: "I wasn't-" 

Beej: "You weren't what?"

 Lydia (quietly): "It wasn't a joke."

The angry grin slips off Beej's face. He suddenly looks very, very tired. She might have believed just now that he'd lived for millennia. 

 Beej: “Why are you doin' this, Lyds? Did you know the whole damn time? It's not like I was gonna do anything, I just thought- I just-”

Lydia suddenly realizes that they are having two different conversations. And something else. She looks away, trying to wrap her head around it, and Beetlejuice doesn't read it correctly. He turns to go. 

Lydia: “Wait!”

 She jumps off the bed, feeling the whole world tip over slightly, still drunk, and stumbled over to him. He catches her instinctively as she grips his forearms for support. 

Lydia: “Beej. Beej, look at me.” 

She takes his face in her hands, and turns it toward her. He looks so lost, like one word from her might actually break him. She'd only seen that look on his face once before, and she never wants to again.

Lydia takes a breath. 

Lydia: “Beetlejuice, I-”

Aaand then she throws up all over his shoes.

She doesn't quite remember what happened next, only that she was in the bathroom, leaning against the door, the toilet was flushed, she was sweating, and he wasn't there. 

Lydia: “Beej?” 

Beetlejuice (through the door): “...hi”

Lydia: “What-”

BJ: “-happened? Well, that's a story!” 

His voice sounds cheerful, but it’s shaking slightly 

BJ: “First ya threw up all over us both! then that little experiment of yours with mixing the meds went off, and you started babbling about...rocks? Then we got here, you heaved out the rest of your insides, and then ya kicked me out and said you were gonna shower, and now we're sitting here, so, yeah”

Lydia: “...Are you still covered in puke?” 

BJ:”...yeah”

Lydia: “...sorry?” 

BJ: “Pshh, what's a best friend if ya can't throw up on 'im a couple times.”

They both fall silent

Beetlejuice (quietly): “Lyds, do ya still want me here?”

...

 Lydia takes the time to find the words. Want him here? After everything, he was still asking that question. Did he still think, after all this time, that she'd throw him out at the smallest inconvenience? Would he ever stop thinking that way? Why did he think so now? Was it because he- Because he-

Lydia: “I love you.”

The other side of the door is silent. 

Lydia: “I love your stupid laugh. You sound like a fucking cartoon villain, its so fucking obnoxious. I love your jokes, all of them, even the shitty ones- you always look so god damn proud when you say them.”

Is she crying? She tries to wipe at her face, but the tears keep coming. 

Lydia: “I loved you since that last day on the roof, and when you left-” 

Her throat closes up. She chokes back on her tears, she has to finish it, he has to hear it. 

Lydia: “When you left I thought I might die again.” 

Lydia: “I kept seeing things, dumb branding on cereal boxes, that shitty college play I went to, my first client, and I kept thinking aw, Beej would have a field day with this one. I thought about what you'd say. You were like a voice I couldn't scrape out of my head, I thought I was going crazy, I thought I'd imagined it all, some lonely little girl with no life or friends, needing someone to talk to- But you'd been real, and then you were just gone- “

The words dissolve in her throat as she sobs, pulling her knees up to her chest. She feels like a child now. She feels more childlike than she had at 15. She’s clinging to a scrap of hope she doesn’t have a right to demand from him. And yet he'd said- 

Lydia: “I love you. Please, don't leave.”

They sit is silence for a while. Lydia tries to stop crying. Then, quietly from the other side of the door:

BJ: “You know what I thought when I first saw you?”

Lydia: “Here’s a suicidal teen haha what a riot?”

BJ: “What? No, not then. Like now.”

Lydia: “Oh. What?”

BJ: “I thought wow, who the hell is that and why is she so dang hot?”

Lydia laughs.

BJ: “And then I thought oh God that’s Lydia.”

Something in his voice makes her pause. Maybe it’s the strange fear that she feels coming from him.

BJ: “It’s like, you’re Lydia, and I don’t know shit about you! You’re the same person, but you’re a stranger to me. Lyds, do you know how fucking terrifying that is? You’re someone I never got to know because of a shitty decision I don’t even remember making.”

he falls silent. She can hear the pain in his voice. And something else. Longing. 

Beetlejuice: “I’d like to.”

Lydia opens the door. Beetlejuice scrables up, only for her to throw her arms around him. 

They figure it out. It’s a slowburn 200k fic that I’ll never write so it takes a while for them to actually kiss, or do anything more, but they get there. 

This turned out...ridiculously long XD. I don’t know what you meant by “headcanons”, exactly, but have this instead.

Thanks for the ask! 

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

just full on bodies you with a semi NEW FIC JUST DROPPED BABES

we are leaving cute high school world and entering pain town. this story will have mentions of self harm and suicidal ideation. Please take care of yourselves and don't engage if that sort of content is triggering to you. (be nice to yourselves, i love you)

The worst year of his life starts out the same as so many good days, it almost makes him dizzy to think back on. He feels, later, that a start to this much torment, this painful, should have begun completely fucking miserable, but it had been just any other day. It starts the same way so many days before it starts. His eyes open. He’s in his bedroom, in his bed, like normal. He’s staring up at his black ceiling, wrapped up in his bedspread. His phone buzzes, and he groans, reaches for it, scans messages. A good morning from Barbara, an unread goodnight from Adam, a text from that talent agency that there was something they could use his voice for. He throws back his blankets, rubs sleep from his eyes, and dresses.

In high school his uniform had been an oversized striped hoodie, but for his birthday a few years ago, Charles had bought him several nice dress pants, suit jackets, and collared shirts, and he’d sort of settled into that as his new everyday. He likes how he looks, because this shit is expensive, custom, made to fit his more generous frame, and both his partners always say he looks handsome in a jacket and tie. (Sometimes Barbara yanks him around by the tie. Sometimes Adam snaps his suspenders.) And besides, his dad had taken his preferences into consideration, because all the pieces he’d been gifted had that pattern he was drawn to, thick black and white stripes that absolutely stand out in a crowd. He dresses quickly, throws on his suit jacket over his pinstriped shirt. He adjusts his tie, and gives a grin. Too many teeth, too sharp, and he waves a hand in front of his mouth, and tries again. Human teeth. There we go, B-Man. He lifts his legs, not especially in the mood to walk, and begins to make his way downstairs, for breakfast. He passes by Lydia’s room, and considers harassing his sister, but he remembers how bad he needed his Saturday sleep-ins at fifteen, and takes pity on her, floating past her door silently.

His father, always an early riser, is already in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee, and Betelgeuse lets his feet hit the floor, so that his heeled boots clack against the kitchen tile.

Charles knows the sound, doesn’t even turn around. “Morning, BJ. Any plans for today?”

His relaxed, not exactly actively working lifestyle is not his dad’s favorite, but he’s got a long time, a lot longer than any other person, to work a job. He's just enjoying the time he gets with all his favorite breathers, before he doesn’t have it anymore. At least, that’s always been his excuse. It's not that he can't find work, or that he’s unhirable to a normal job, it’s that he’s trying to enjoy life. Obviously.

But there's good news this morning.

“Got a text from th’ agency. Some voice work,” he grunts. His insanely gravely voice is not always in high demand, but it's been getting some attention lately, mostly because the last commercial he did voice over for, he had to sing, and the request for more of that has been promising. The big goal is some acting gig, on stage, preferably, but he’d take TV, too. He loves the attention, he loves the rush, he loves entertaining. Unfortunately he’s got a demonic aura that makes breathers nervous on principle. He knows if he could just get a break, he’d have a lot to give… but he’s maybe not working on getting that break as hard as he could be.

“Very nice,” Charles finally turns, and smiles, clearly approving. He sets a cup of coffee in front of his son, and BJ glances at it. “Be a pal and wake your mother up?” “This early? On a Saturday?” He squints. “You tryna take me out via Emily attack?” “We’ve got that check up to go to,” Charles says. “I don’t want to be late.”

He shrugs, takes the cup, and vanishes from sight, appearing upstairs, next to his mother. Emily is still wrapped in the bedsheets, snoring lightly, but he knows the trick to rousing her. The coffee cup is waved around her nose, allowing the aroma to hit her senses, and, eyes still closed, she reaches for it. He pulls the cup back.

“Come on, ma,” he scratches gently at her scalp. “Time to get up.” “Coffeeeee,” she groans, reaching at it blindly again, and he grins, and walks backwards, setting the coffee on the dresser, across the room. “Coffee’s over here, Deetzy,” he tells her, and she finally cracks an eye open, and groans. “Evil. Evil son.” “Yup,” he agrees, easily. “Come on. Chuck says you got some appointments to keep.” His mother groans, and kicks back the sheets, before standing.

He’d been twelve, and herself only about thirty when she’d found him, and now, ten years later, at 40, her age is showing, a little. She’s been growing in gray hair for the past few years, and it hasn’t taken over her natural sunshine yellow, but it’s becoming a bit more noticeable, and the slight lines forming around her mouth and eyes are a new addition to her features. Chuck’s aging in much the same way, but with fewer laugh lines. The hair at his father’s temples is going gray, and if he really looks, he can see the beginnings of salt and pepper in his father’s beard. He doesn’t like looking for it, though, and doesn't like the feeling gnawing in his guts at seeing his parents age. If he had his way, they’d stay frozen in time, the way he probably will. Demons don’t age, past a certain point, and he’s pretty sure he’ll be hitting it, soon enough.

He watches his mother shuffle across the floor, and claim her prize of coffee. She takes a long sip, and then groans. “I don’t want to go to the doctor,” she complains to him, and he pats her shoulder. “I know, ma,” he gives her a very sympathetic smile. “But you gotta. Or Chuckles will throw a fit. It’s just a check up, right? No biggie.” She rubs at her temple, and winces. “Getting old sucks,” she tells him. “I’ve been having the worst headaches, recently.”

When they make it back downstairs, Chuck's got breakfast going, and Lydia is sipping her own coffee. Black, like her heart, she always says. He passes her by and ruffles that mop of long blonde hair. “Beetle breath,” she greets him, as he takes a plate from Charles, and sits to eat.

The voice over work isn't as big a deal as he was hoping. He adjusts his tie, fiddles with the collar of his pinstripe dress shirt, and steps out of the booth. “Fuckin’ peanuts,” he complains, and his agent just shrugs. “Gotta start small, BJ. We need someone to do some crooning for this other comercial, some car sale, or something. You feel like playing Sinatra for a bit?”

Not especially, but he does it anyway, and then meets Adam and Barbara for lunch. Adam’s taking classes for business management, and he’s just about done. He wants to take over his grandpa’s hardware store, outside of the city. Way outside, actually, in some little town in Connecticut. They’ve got shared plans, shared dreams, and all of it hinges on this little store in this little town. BJ isn’t too worried. His boyfriend’s hobbies come and go, but Adam really, really enjoys woodworking, and getting to own a place like that sounds like getting to own his own playground.

Barbara, meanwhile, is stuck in clerical work, which she finds mind numbingly dull, but it's a steady paycheck, and it’s afforded her a ticket out of her dad’s place, so that’s something. She and Adam share a tiny studio apartment in Queens, and for all the time Betelgeuse spends there, he might as well live there, too. But three people in a studio isn’t any of their idea of a good time. Speaking of…

“I was on zillow, today,” Adam starts, and he and Barbara lean over with varying degrees of interest, as Adam shows them his phone. It’s a house, predictably, but a nice one. Old fashioned, and a little creeping looking. He likes it.

“She’s a bit of a fixer upper,” he says, admiring the house. “But the price is right, and look at all this character. Classic Queen Anne, with the original crown molding! Tons of space, lots of room for the three of us.” “Maybe a forth,” Barbara smiles brightly, and he matches her enthusiasm. She’s wanted to be a mom since he’s known her, six pretty amazing years, and while a lot has changed in that time, her maternal desire is as strong as ever.

“Maybe a fifth,” BJ grins, wiggling his eyebrows at her, and she flushes. “One from each of my boys.” She agrees, and she reaches across the table, for his hand, which he gives her. Adam takes her other hand, and they’re lost in that fantasy for a moment. He’s not actually sure he can give her what she wants, since he’s not exactly human, but Adam can, at least. And he gets to be part of it. Goddamn, he’s lucky.

“So? Tell us about this commercial you just did!” Adam smiles at him.

“S’not a big deal, just some radio ad,” He tells them, but he’s flattered that they’re always overly enthusiastic about his bit parts. “I heard you on the radio in the office, a few days ago!” Barbara remembers. “My coworkers couldn’t believe that was your real voice! You make such a good villain.” Of course he does. He keeps the smile on, because he knows Babs, knows that she means it in the sweetest, most lovey dovey way possible, but he’s never going to play the hero, because no hero sounds like a demon. He can’t get in his head about this, not right now. Not when the weather’s so nice, and he’s sitting across from the people he loves the most.

“I am the villain, babes,” he grins at her, and stands, leaning over to kiss and rub his stubble into her neck, until laughing, she pushes him away.

“Maybe you should come to the office with me, tomorrow,” Chuck says, over dinner. BJ resists the urge to stab himself through the eye with his fork. “M’not that into real estate, pop,” he tells him, and Emily smiles. “You know BJ’s an artist.” “I just think if he gave it a try,” Charles says, looking to his wife. “That he’d excel at it. I mean, good lord, all real estate is, is making deals and fast talking. He’s built for that sort of thing.” Betelgeuse grimaces. “But then I’d have to spend any amount of time around your coworkers, an’ those other big money creeps.” “Those big money creeps write the checks that paid for this house, BJ,” Chuck reminds him.

“I’ll be sure to send Maxie Dean a fruit basket.”

“Skip the fruit, just send that freak ass a basket of snakes,” Lydia says, and he grins. “Do not do that.” “Psh. Whatever, dad,” he pitches his voice into a teenage whine, and his father gives a dry smile in return. “So, that doctor appointment?” Lydia looks to Emily, and their mother smiles. “Got some scans done, no biggie. Checkups just suck. I’ve been having those migraines, recently, but the doctor didn’t seem to think it was a big deal.”

He’s staring down at his mother, in hospice, and those words echo around his mind. No big deal. The doctor didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. Just a couple migraines. Just some dizziness. Just some nausea. Just a tumor. Just another breather’s life, coming to an end.

Her bedroom is dark. The curtains are drawn. He’s sitting to her left, Lydia dozing to her right, and Emily is sleeping, dozing lightly. Chuck’s talking to the nurse in the hall. The last twelve months are a blur. He can’t remember individual days, can only remember when those test results came back. He remembers, vaguely, holding her hand during treatments. But there’s nothing any breather alive can do about the tumor, about the placement of it. At least she’s at home, at least she’s laying in her own bed. At least she’s not stuck in the hospital. Her sun colored hair is gone. Her smile is gone. That mischievous glint in her eyes is gone. All Emily does is sleep. All they can do is wait. read the rest of this chapter, plus the second one i couldn't help but post, over here, on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/32243065/chapters/79911316

[aizawaskittenwhore]

𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭

pairing: cartel!shota aizawa x fem!reader

words: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, this will be a cartel!au, so mentions of c*ke and distribution...yeah lol, suggestive content towards the end of the chapter (vague description of a bj), angst, cheating, aizawa just ain’t shit in this story LMFAOOO

a/n: this is the third fucking time i’ve tried to post this so if it doesn’t work i’m gonna cry. but I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE and i can’t wait for you all to see what i’ve got planned. so uh...strap yourselves in it’s about to get crazy. sorry ms joke </3

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐚’ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

The salty, warm breeze from the ocean whipped its way through Shota’s onyx locks, tossing them around with a gentle force. Miami was gorgeous from the water, skyscrapers alight with the buzzing energy of the city, streets crawling with good food and even better looking women. Gorgeous full lips wrapped around martini glasses, criminally short dresses clinging to any skin it was given. He didn’t care much for the nightlife, opting to observe the partygoers from a distance.

He wasn’t here to socialize.

He was here to work.

His wrists draped over the edge of the rail that separated him and the water, a small portion of his weight against the cool metal. When Hizashi suggested that he get a yacht he nearly spat out his whiskey, face contorted in an expression of annoyance and disdain. Shota didn’t understand why someone would need such a flashy boat, it was merely a watercraft meant for travel and or fishing. This wasn’t the 1400’s where one’s worth was tied to the size of a man’s ship. Just another glorified pissing contest for rich people with too much money, and not enough couple’s therapy in the world that could keep them home for days at a time.

It’s not as if he was in any position to judge though, his pinky coming to rest just below the silver band that rarely inhabited his ring finger these days. He doesn’t entirely know what possessed him to wear it, whether it be the ever-crushing guilt from lying to his wife, or the text he’d received from Emi this morning that read:

“Make sure to bring me back a mojito! Don’t work yourself too hard, and remember how much I love you!💕”

If only she knew that these tri-monthly “Inter-Departmental Hero Conferences” were just fronts for selling a literal boat-load of cocaine.

Turns out, yachts were really good for that.

In the span of just five years, superhuman society was nearing it’s peak. Upon the graduation of all the students in the 1-A Hero Course, and Izuku Midoriya’s induction as the new Symbol of Peace; the world began to see an astronomical shift. Crime rates were the lowest they’d ever been, with Japan and the States sitting at 2 and 4.5 percent, respectively. Newly minted Pro Heroes roamed the streets, bringing security to those who needed it and striking fear into the hearts of those who were on the wrong side of the law.

But this utopia came at a price. With the sudden influx of fresh and talented pros, crime decreased exponentially, leaving little villain-based work for Heroes to get paid for. Hostage situations and evacuation efforts took backseat to helping older women across the street and assisting young children with their schoolwork. Soon enough, peace became a burden for those whose careers surrounded chaos.

Aizawa was no exception to this dilemma. Once Midoriya and his classmates graduated and obtained their Hero Licenses, he’d ended his tenure as an instructor at UA. He felt that he’d done his civic duty as a teacher and a Pro, and produced some of the finest Heroes the world would come to see. So he began to settle down. Surprisingly, he’d begun to tolerate Joke’s incessant laughter and boisterous personality, and soon fell in love with the eccentric woman. Between patrols and giving advice to aspiring Heroes at the community center, he and Emi explored all the the world had to offer; swapping out steel-toed combat boots for soft plush flip flops against hot sand. After three years he’d proposed, much to Emi’s delight (and Ashido’s upon hearing that Mr. Aizawa could actually tolerate another human being). The ceremony was small, and intimate. Shinsou serving as the ring bearer, and Eri as the flower girl. Mic even shed a few tears during the toast, though he’ll deny it if Kayama ever brings it up.

For a while, things were good. Life was good. Emi was glowing with the energy of a new life blossoming inside her, and Shota fantasized about meeting his little girl, counting all of her dainty fingers and toes, and doting on her for all to see.

Or at least it was, before agencies began to close. Paychecks got smaller and smaller. Heroes were struggling to find work and their pockets began to struggle along with them. With Emi on maternity leave, and Hero society coming to a standstill, things were looking grim. He needed to provide for his family, his wife, his children.

He needed a plan, and fast.

Luckily, Hizashi always did have good standing with everyone’s favorite Bird Boy. So he called in a few favors.

“Just for a couple months man! We stir up a little bit of noise, make a couple ripples and bam! Crime rate’s back up, and we get back to makin’ money. It’s temporary. Nobody will ever know, I’ll make sure of it. I got you.” Hizashi pleaded, an arm slung across Aizawa’s shoulders as he pensively gazed into his glass of amber liquid. He’d done some vigilante work here and there in his twenties but this....this was outright criminal. But what choice did he have?

Just a few months, he’d said. If only it’d worked out that way.

“I was getting worried you wouldn’t show, Eraser!” Zhu thundered, hands clapping joyously at the other man’s timeliness. “That’s some boat you got there, let me guess...the wife’s idea?” He queried, eyebrows waggling emphatically as Aizawa descended from the metal ladder and onto the wooden pier; eyes rolling into the back of his head at Zhu’s...excitable personality. The two had known each other for about two years or so, having gotten acquainted over the course of Shota’s many trips between Japan and the States, and sometimes South America. Zhu Kanaka was a man of the lower ranks, opting to use his easygoing disposition to negotiate deals for Takami “Lord of The Skies” Keigo, better known as Hawks. Standing at a solid 6 foot 4, with thick black locks that spiked into a point reminiscent of an onion, thick bushy brows and a set jaw, you’d think he wouldn’t hesitate to punt anyone like a football.

At least until he opened his mouth.

“As it turns out, Emi hates the damn thing. Makes her seasick. Hizashi talked me into getting the fuckin’ eyesore.” He intoned. His left hand palmed his slacks for the emergency pack of cigarettes he kept in his back pocket for when he was stressed during a deal, although he never really needed them anymore after Eri said she wanted him to quit. He still held on to them though, just in case. “The hell you waiting for? You know the deal man. Let’s see it.” He muttered, silently willing for Zhu to get on with it so he could get in a bed. Three and a half hours on a goddamned boat (that you didn’t even want to begin with) will do that to you.

“Someone looks like he needs a nap. Alright, I got ya. Count it, make sure it’s all there. I had Thing 1 and Thing 2 back there pack it, so you might wanna double check.” Zhu quipped, jerking a thumb towards the two young men currently engaged in a heated game of Rock, Paper, Scissors; the pair of them flushing upon receiving one of Aizawa’s infamous stares. Two thick black duffles were handed to his two bodyguards, the men immediately unzipping and checking the stacks, a mental tally steadily climbing higher and higher as they sifted through the cash.

“He’s good. Four hundred thousand in each bag. It’s all there, Eraser.” Sato affirmed, Toru nodding alongside the man. “Good. Go ahead and call Jamie, tell him to bring the car around. Zhu, I’ll send Sato and Toru to help your men unload our shipment. It’s a hefty one, so you’ll need the assistance.” Shota offered, shoulders visibly relaxing at the thought of getting some alone time in an empty hotel room.

“Yeah that’d be great, thanks! How long you in town for?”

“Until about 3pm tomorrow. I’ll be on my flight back to Kyushu then.” He states, right arm extending to clasp the other man’s hand in a firm grip. “You’re goin to that meeting the Big Man’s holding in a few days right?” Zhu queries. “Unfortunately, yes. Gonna miss my little girl’s first doctor’s appointment for this shit.”

“No way! She had the baby?!?!? Congratulations man! How’s it feel?” Zhu exclaims, eyes alight with joy for his friend’s new addition to the family. “Feels good. She had a smooth pregnancy, everything worked out fine. Hana’s beautiful, and healthy. I couldn’t be more proud.” Shota brags slightly, heart swelling at the thought of his little girl and how proud he was to know he’d helped in making someone so...ethereal. “Wow. Raising another kid, you flying out all the damn time, along with whatever else you got goin on?? No wonder you look like shit.”

Red eyes and floating hair caused Zhu to immediately retract his former statement.

“Aw I’m just joshin’ Eraser! But I hear ya. It’s a lotta’ sacrifices that go into this, but they’re who we do it for. All of it. Ya know?” Zhu amends, eyes shimmering with the reflection of the city lights off of the water.

Did he even know who... or what he was doing this for anymore?

Shota found himself asking that question more and more often as of late.

“...Right.”

“Anyway, you’re probably spent, so I’ll leave you to it. It was good seeing you man, send Emi my love!” Zhu shouted as he slowly walked towards the men unloading his boat. “Likewise. Tell Macie and the kids I said hello.” Aizawa responded dryly, body screaming for some kind of relief from this exhaustion.

“Will do! Oh, by the way! You might wanna bring some cooler clothes and sunscreen with your pale ass, I hear Guadalajara’s pretty sunny around this time of year! See you in a few days man!” The male laughed, throwing him a wave as he slowly disappeared into the darkness of the port. Massaging the bridge of his nose in irritation, Aizawa nodded in acknowledgement as Jamie pulled up alongside him; his hand reaching for the handle and dragging his siphoned body into the backseat.

Jamie could sense his employer’s weary expression, and didn’t make any attempts at conversation, merely opting to start making his way to the hotel while smooth jazz floated through the car. Forehead against the door of the towncar, Shota typed out a quick message to his wife:

“Alcohol is the last thing you need sweetheart, and I love you too. Got another meeting in a few days, mandatory. I’ll in be in Mexico, so I’ll miss Hana’s appointment. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to the two of you.”

Sent.

The message sat for a few seconds before Emi read and typed out a response:

“Aw, bummer! </3 Dont worry, work is much more important right now. I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures!”

“You don’t have to make it up to us, you caring is enough. Get some sleep old man, me and the girls love you. xoxo, Wifey 😘 ”

He didn’t deserve her.

He didn’t deserve any of them.

This he knew. And yet, it didn’t stop him from responding to the unknown number that texted his phone every time he happened to be in town.

“Same time and place? Desperately in the mood to play....My toys just aren’t as good as yours, Eraser. ;)”

His heart sank. A beat passes. Then two.

Calloused thumbs move fluidly across the screen. He’s done this far too many times.

“Be there in 10. You know the routine.”

And in retrospect...he would’ve been way better off just blowing off Guadalajara and going to Hana’s appointment.

Because while he wrapped her slick ponytail around his hand, as a head that wasn’t his wife’s dipped between his legs, he didn’t think this would be his last moment of peace. Shoved down the throat of a woman who’s name he had long forgotten, settling for calling her whatever pet name he felt like adorning her with, her hands clawing at the soft and sleek cotton of his trousers.

Aizawa never anticipated that this would be the last time he would be in a room without immediate reinforcements, and be content.

The last time someone he didn’t trust with his life knew his location, and he wasn’t terrified.

The last moments of peace in his world before it all went to hell.

Temecula, California;

1:36am

The office floor was barren. Dark, coffee stained carpet congealed with the bacteria of old and new; giving it a sad beige color from the creamy foam-like white it was when the building was built. Cubicles cluttered with miscellaneous paperwork from separate departments, all of it raining down from desk to desk like a fresh layer of snow on the first day of winter. Tired, weary hands typed at a computer with precision and accuracy, the warm glow from the screen illuminating the buttons on her blouse as she plowed through each document. Her body raged for a moment of rest, but she couldn’t give in. Not when so much was at stake, not when so much needed to be done in so little time.

After a few minutes, and approximately twelve sips of bittersweet lukewarm coffee, the fingers came to a halt. A sigh of relief was freed from her body as she pushed the enter button on the dusty, tan keyboard and began to pack up for the night. Since the computers were set on an activity timer, there was no need for her to physically shut it down. After 30 seconds of no visible movement, the screen flashed a message declaring that the activity would be suspended within the next 2 minutes if no motion was detected. Content with her work, she slung her work bag over her shoulder, and trudged towards the elevator, mentally clocking out for the night.

As the elevator slowly carried its passenger down, the computer continued its countdown before discontinuing its power, leaving the following words for nobody but its future recipient to read:

Drug Enforcement Agency Operative Travel Request:

Agent: L/N, F/N

Current Operation: Potential formation of a rising cartel under the leadership and or affiliation of Pro Heroes Hawks, Endeavor, and Eraserhead. Agent has been undercover for eight months and twenty-seven days.

Investigation Status: Active

Location of Travel: Guadalajara, Mexico

Reason for Request: Possible gathering of multiple Hero-Run plazas to discuss further movement. Will gather more intel and gain trust of suspects involved/acquire more resources for investigation.

Travel Request Status: Accepted.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Two for One

Fandom: Marvel (Professor AU/College AU)

Pairing: Stucky x F!Reader

Summary: Ever since you became the TA for Professor Romanoff, you’ve been seeing a lot of Professors Rogers and Barnes. They seem to be attracted to you, but you have a hard time deciding between the two. What do you do?

Warning: smut - bjs, threesome, semi-public…just a whole lot of naughty mk?

A/N: based off of this post and my tags in it. also, word count is about 4.1k. so yall better appreciate this and the struggle i went through to write this (i’m looking at you @chloerinebarnes )

Steve was sure that if Bucky bit his lip any further, he’d draw blood. He nudged his boyfriend with his elbow, gaining his attention back, “Cool it with the staring and lip biting. You’ll scare her off.”

Bucky groaned, “She’s killin’ me with those jeans, babe.”

Steve snorted, “Tell me about it,” he murmured as his eyes went back to across the lounge. You were standing off to the side, speaking with Professor Romanoff, the teacher you were a TA for. You were nodding to everything that she was listing off for you to do. After handing you a stack of papers, you saw yourself out of the lounge. Bucky and Steve’s shoulders sagged in disappointment. 

Ever since you became Professor Romanoff, aka Natasha’s, TA, Steve and Bucky have been seeing you more and more. Not that they minded. You were beautiful, funny, and smart. Honestly, you were the missing puzzle piece in their life. 

Don’t get it wrong, Steve and Bucky were completely devoted to each other. But for the past few years, they’ve been feeling like they were missing something. And they believe that something is you. 

But how does one go about proposing a polyamorous relationship? You don’t. It’s not a very common thing and it’s not accepted in a lot of places. Nonetheless, Steve and Bucky adored you from the moment they met you. 

So, they hatched a plan. They would worm their way into your heart individually and when it came to the point where you “have to choose”, they’ll give you the other option: a two for one deal. 

_________________________

You’re in the school cafe, a pile of papers off to the side that you’re making your way through. You suddenly feel a presence looming over you and you look up to see Professor Barnes. 

You give him a polite smile, “Hey there, professor! How’s it going?”

“Monday mornings were never my thing hence,” he gestured to his large coffee cup.

You snorted, “Tell me about it,” you pointed to your own, “This is my third one already.”

“Mind if I sit?” he points to the seat across from you.

You shook your head, “Not at all!” you move your things around to give him a little bit more space, “Enjoy your weekend?”

He shrugged, “Just stayed home, watched some Netflix, graded papers. The usual.”

You nodded, “That’s become my usual now too. Although, yesterday my friends Pietro and Wanda dragged me out of the apartment to go to a bar. Gonna be honest, had a bit too much.”

“That explains the coffee and you still grading papers that are probably due today.”

You sighed, “Yeeeaahhh. Never listening to the twins again,” you said with a snort. 

“I wish I could help. Russian Literature was my minor. But I’m sure if Nat found out, she’d have both our heads.”

“Definitely. Romanoff’s great, but, damn, does she terrify me!”

Barnes snorted, “Same here.” he stood up and grabbed his coffee, “Well, I’ll let you get to it. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Professor Barnes!”

He smiled down at you, and with a wink, he said, “Call me Bucky,” and he waltzed out of the cafe like it was nothing. And you hated to admit that that little gesture made your cheeks heat up and make your panties slightly damp.

___________________

You were struggling with holding the pile of graded papers in your arms and trying to get your notebook out for Romanoff’s class. Just when you thought you had it, all the papers tumbled forward onto the ground. You groaned and hung your head back, staring up at the sky asking, “Why me?”

You bent down and began to collect the papers, and then another pair of hands came into view. You tried to object, “It’s okay! I got-” when you looked up, staring back at you was he striking blue eyes of Professor Rogers, “I-I got it, Professor Rogers,” you stammered as you quickly collected the essays.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind helping,” he said with a shy smile, grabbing the leftover papers and handing them to you. You both stood up and awkwardly stood there, “So, uh, headed to Nat’s-I mean, Romanoff’s office?”

You nodded, “Yeah. Gotta turn in all these papers I graded.” you gestured to the pile that was back in your hands. 

“Oh, well, my office is in the same direction. I’ll accompany you.”

You two walked together, towards the Literature and History building, “So, uh, how was your weekend?”

“Oh, uh, pretty bland, honestly. Just hanging out and grading papers. What about you? Did you spend your weekend grading all of these?” he points to your pile.

“Sorta,” you answered, “I got most of them done. Then I went out last night. Got drunk and never finished the rest. I just finished up in the cafe. Professor Barnes was actually there too. Surprised you weren’t with him. You two are usually attached to the hip,” you say teasingly.

Rogers snorted, “Please, I couldn’t shake ‘im even if I tried. We actually live together. We see a lot of each other and you would think we’d get sick of each other. But we don’t.”

“That’s good. I love Pietro and Wanda, but, God, I don’t think I can spend every second of the day with them.”

He chuckled, “Guess you just gotta find the right people that’ll make you want to see them all the time.”

Soon enough, you were in the building, standing in front of Professor Romanoff’s office, “Well, here’s my stop,” you say.

“Yeah. Anyway, I hope you have a good rest of your day, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Professor Rogers. You too!”

“Please, call me, Steve,” he says with a grin and then turns around, heading for his office in the other direction.

___________________

Bucky is eating lunch in Steve’s office. Steve is typing away at his computer, occasionally pausing when Bucky feeds him a forkful of penne pasta into his mouth. 

“So, progress?” Bucky asks, his own mouth full of pasta. 

Steve chews a few more times before swallowing. He takes off his glasses and sets them onto his desk, “Told her to call me Steve after I helped pick up her papers that she dropped and accompanied her on the way to Nat’s office. She said she came from the cafe and you were there?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah. Grabbed some coffee, sat with her and chatted a little bit. When I left, I told her to call me Bucky. You still think we should do this?”

“I really like her, Buck. I just-don’t you feel it? That spark with her?” when Bucky nodded, Steve continued, “Then can you imagine how it would be if all of us were together?”

“It’d be like nothing we’ve ever felt before,” Bucky murmured.

“Exactly. We gotta try, but we can’t be too overbearing. She’s gotta be the one.”

Bucky set down his tupperware of pasta and rest his hand on Steve’s, “She’s out missing puzzle piece.”

___________________

You sat in the lounge next to Professor Romanoff, or Nat, as she’s allowed you to call her. You’re both going over test grades and that’s when you hear the screeching of wood against the floor and then you look up to see Bucky and Steve settling across the table from you.

Your eyes brighten and a smile appears on your face, “Hey, Bucky! Hey, Steve!”

Big grins appear on their faces when you acknowledge, “Hey, doll,” Bucky says, and you feel your cheeks heating up. 

You duck your head down, biting your lip and continuing to grade papers. You hoped that Nat ignored that interaction, but she didn’t. While you continued to grade papers, Nat gave questioning looks to the professors across from her. Both gave her shrugs and pulled out their own work that needed to be done. 

Words started to blur as your eyes skimmed through another test, your red pen marking wrong answers. You could feel yourself getting a headache so you groaned and fell back into your seat, “I need a break. I’m gonna walk to the cafe. Do you guys want anything?” Nat and Bucky shook their head but Steve stood up.

“I’ll go with you. I think I need to stretch my legs anyway.” he turns to Bucky and gives him a nod, and then follows you out of the lounge. After you both leave, Nat turns to Bucky.

“What the hell are you guys up to?”

“Steve and I both like Y/N, so we’re trying to ease our way into her heart and possibly propose a poly relationship.”

Nat groaned, “Jesus Christ. You know what happened the last time you tried that. You and Steve ended up heartbroken and nearly broke up because of it.”

“Dot wasn’t right for us,” Bucky said with a shake of his head, “But Y/N’s different. You know she is, Nat.”

“Maybe so, but then again, you hardly know her.”

“And that’s why we’re trying to spend as much time as we can to get to know her.”

Nat shook her head, “You’re playing a dangerous game. She’s a student.”

“She’s graduating this year. Once she’s graduated, then Steve and I will ask. Trust us, Nat. We learned from the last time and we know what we’re doing now.”

____________________

“So, the semester is half way over and you’ll be graduating soon. Have any plans on what to do?” Steve asked, his hands curled up in his pockets. 

“Travel. Find a job. Maybe find some love on the way. I don’t know.”

“Not looking for love right now?” he asked with a teasing smirk. 

You shrugged, “Oh trust me, I’ve been looking. Just haven’t found anyone that clicks with me, ya know? Someone funny, smart, compassionate, independent. Oh and knows how to cook. It’s surprising how many people here barely know how to cook.”

Steve snorted, “Bucky loves to cook. He cooks our meals all the time. I know how to cook too, but for Bucky, it’s his stress reliever. He’s in his element when he cooks, plus everything is delicious when he makes it.”

“I’d love to try something other than ramen and burgers.”

“I’ll bring you some tomorrow. Buck loves to cook for other people so it won’t be a problem.”

You shook your head, “I can’t ask you guys to do that. You don’t have-”

“You’re not askin’, sweetheart. Plus, we want to do this. Trust me.”

You sighed, “Fine.”

Steve was beaming right then and there, “Great. Do you have any food preferences?”

“Surprise me.”

_____________________

It became a regular thing after that. You and Nat would be in the lounge going over lecture notes or grading papers. Steve and Bucky would appear and slide over some tupperware for lunch that Bucky had prepared for you. At one point, they started bringing some food for Nat too since she complained about them not bringing food for her. Plus, they didn’t want to seem too suspicious. 

As the semester progressed, you found yourself in the company of Steve and Bucky often. Sometimes it was both of them, sometimes it was one or the other. You’d have lunch with them, walk with them to class or the office building. Relax under some trees while you graded papers. You also ended up getting both of their numbers and all three of you would be in a group chat texting away or texting to either men individually. 

You were around them a lot and you couldn’t help the feelings you were starting to develop for both them. It was conflicting. Very much so. You were a student and they were professors. 

It was a month before the semester ended, before you graduated, and you’d had enough. Enough of the feelings and the confusion. It had to stop!

So you burst into Bucky’s office where you knew both men would be. As soon as you step into the room, you freeze. There right before was Steve and Bucky, but they were tangled up in each other, making out. 

“I’m so confused,” you murmured as they stared at you wide-eyed. 

“Doll, I-we-”

“I-I should go. Sorry. I didn’t-I’m gonna-” 

You turn to leave but Steve cried outs, “Y/N, wait!” and you stop. You look at them and they’re staring at you with pleading eyes, “Sweetheart, please, don’t leave. Just-Just close the door and we’ll explain everything.”

Slowly, you move back inside, closing the door behind you. You sit at the chair across from Bucky’s desk. Bucky sits back down into his seat and Steve stands off to the side, running his hand through his disheveled hair. 

“Are-Are you guys together?” you ask apprehensively. When both men nod, you let out a shaky breath, “I-I don’t understand. Both of you made it seem like you were interested in me. Were you just toying with me? Is that it?!”

“No!” both said unison. 

Steve cleared his throat, “It’s nothin’ like that, Y/N. We swear. We-Bucky and I, we’ve been together for a long time. We love each other a lot, but-”

Bucky interjected, “But we feel like we’ve been missing something. And we think that something is you.”

You became even more confused, “But you’re together already. How would that even work?”

“A polyamorous relationship. The three of us can be together. Bucky and I have strong feelings for you, Y/N.”

You shook your head, “This can’t happen,” and suddenly, it felt like Bucky and Steve’s hearts were breaking all over again, but then you continued, “I’m still a student and you’re professors. If this got out, I’d be expelled and you two would be fired. I-” you take a moment to let out a deep breath, “It’s funny. I was coming here to tell you that I can’t choose between you two. I have feelings for both of you, so I was just-I don’t know-take myself out of the equation.”

“But you don’t have to, doll,” Bucky says with a hopeful gaze.

Steve rest his hand on Bucky’s shoulder to prevent him from getting ahead of yourself, “But we understand your reasoning why you don’t want to be with us.”

“I didn’t say I don’t want to be with you. I said I can’t right now.” that made both men’s ears perk, “I’m graduating next month. We can put all of this on hold for now and once I’m outta here then...”

“We can wait!” Bucky said all too enthusiastically, which made Steve chuckle.

Steve’s hand moved from Bucky’s shoulder, down his arm and to his hand where they laced fingers, “We’re willing to wait for you, sweetheart. You’re worth it.”

You moved around the desk and to the two men, grabbing each of their hands in yours, “Thank you. You guys mean a lot to me,” you leaned in and pecked the cheeks of each men, “I’ll see you guys soon,” and then you were out of Bucky’s office. The end of next month couldn’t come any sooner. 

__________________

“Y/N L/N!” your name was called as you walked across the stage, shaking the dean’s hand, and accepting your diploma. Cheers from your loved ones and peers brought a huge smile to your face. You walked down the steps dancing on your way back to your seat, your classmates buzzing all around you. 

After everyone’s name was called, the dean stood up the podium to give final remarks and the changing of the tassels, “Now, everyone, I present to you the Class of 2020!” everyone cheered as caps went flying into the air. You hugged the people around you, and waited for your family and friends to meet you on the field. In the meantime..

“I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” Bucky cried out as he gave you a big ol’ hug. Steve stood behind him, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

“Congrats, Y/N,” Steve gave you a hug, nothing to make anyone suspicious.

You were beaming at them, “Thanks you guys. I can’t believe it. I graduated!”

Bucky was ready to ask you out right then and there, but stopped when he saw your family approaching. He and Steve stepped aside to allow you some time with your loved ones. They mouthed, “See you later,” and both walked away to congratulate other students. 

You watched as they departed. A part of you wanted to chase after them and kiss them both then and there, but that would stir something up and you didn’t want any trouble on this momentous day. Soon, Y/N. Soon. 

The day after graduation was when you were to pick up your official diploma. You knew from the group chat that Steve and Bucky would be on campus, due to finishing up finals. And after you picked up your diploma, you wanted to go see them. 

With diploma in hand, you approached the office building, sending off texts to the men:

You: whatcha up to?

Bucky: grading finals in Steve’s office

You: can I stop by?

Steve: of course ;)

Bucky: BRING COFFEE!

You giggled, knowing how predictable Bucky was, two cups of coffee with you already. You approached Steve’s office, knocking on the slightly ajar door, “May I enter?”

The door swung wide open, and Bucky immediately pulled you inside, closing and locking the door behind you. You snorted, “Wow, eager mu-mmf!” you couldn’t finish the teasing retory as a pair of lips matched up with yours, hands cupping your face. 

You heard a chuckle from behind you, “Buck, careful, you’re gonna make her spill the coffee she got for us.” He went over and grabbed the coffee tray from your hands.

You pulled away, mumbling, “Thank you,” to him and then looking back at Bucky who sported a dopey grin on his face, “How long were you waiting to do that?”

“So fucking long,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to yours once more, but it was brief since you pulled away.

“Hey now, two kisses and Steve hasn’t even gotten any from me yet. You’re starting to get greedy, mister.”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed and he ducked his head down shyly, “Sorry, doll,” he then moved aside for Steve. 

Steve pulled you in, wrapping an arm around you and slowly leaning in. His lips were hovering over yours and right as you were about to tell him to hurry up, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss. His fingers dug into your skin as he held onto you for dear life. For so long him and Bucky have wanted you like this and he feels like if he lets go, if he pulls away, it’ll all be a dream. 

Steve began to walk you backwards until your backside hit the edge of his desk. You pulled away to look at the two men, whose soft gazes faded and turned into lustful ones. 

You smirked, “I’ve always fantasized about being fucked on a desk.”

Both men growled as they started to undo their pants. Steve pressed you up against the desk, kissing you heatedly, while Bucky began to remove things from the surface. You hopped onto it after receiving the okay from Bucky. Steve worked on getting your jeans off while Bucky pulled of your shirt. Clothes flew around the room with no care where they landed. 

“Ah fuck, baby doll. You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Bucky moaned, his hand slowly pumping his cock and the other kneading your breast. 

You laid across the surface, opening your mouth, welcoming Bucky’s length. You both moaned when his dick entered your mouth. Bucky thrust his hips back and forth, loving how you looked taking his cock. 

Meanwhile, Steve was paying special attention to your pussy. He licked a strip up your slit, tongue circling around your clit. When you moaned a little too loud, Steve pulled away, “Quiet now, honey. Someone might here your pretty little noises and those are for our ears only.”

Bucky pulled out of your mouth for you to reply, “Sorry, Steve.”

“How wet is she, Stevie?” Bucky asked through his panting.

Steve licked his lips, “So fucking wet and she’s so sweet,” he murmured before slurping up some of your juices. 

Bucky whined, “Lemme taste.” Steve then stood up and leaned over the desk, pulling Bucky towards him, Lips smashing against lips. You wished you could’ve seen the two men swapping your taste, but the view was blocked by Bucky’s body leaning over yours. 

When they pulled away Steve cleared his throat, looking from you to Bucky, “So, how’s this gonna go: i fuck her pussy while you get her mouth, or vice versa?”

You shook your head, “No, I wanna feel you both at the same time.”

Both men moaned at the thought of both of their cocks filling you up to the brim. Steve nodded, “Very well. Bucky, on the table. Sweetheart, straddle Bucky.” Both you and Bucky did as you were told while Steve pulled out a bottle of lube from a drawer. 

You gave him a questioning look and Bucky chuckled, “This isn’t the first time we’ve fucked in this office, doll.” And just the image of Bucky and Steve fucking in this office made you even more wet than before. 

Steve, with his cock lubed up, knelt behind you and in-between Bucky’s legs, “You ready for us, babygirl?”

“I’ve literally been waiting all semester for this, Steve. Now hurry up and fuck me.”

Both men snickered at your haste, “Gotta give our girl what she wants,” Bucky mumbled as he lined himself up with you and you lowered yourself onto him. Steve was right behind you, pushing you forward and slowly easing himself into not wanting to hurt you. Moments pass they’re both inside you and, holy shit, this is something you’ve never felt before.

Both men stay still as they let you set the pace. You rock your body back and forth, allowing both cocks to drag themselves in and out of you. Seriously, the feeling was something unworldly. What made it ever better was Bucky’s lips on your chest and Steve’s hand working your clit. These men both knew what they were doing. 

“So fucking sexy, sweetheart, taking our cocks at the same time,” Steve murmured into your neck, “You love this, don’t you? Love being filled to the brim.”

Bucky bit at your skin, making you hiss, to which he mumbled, “Answer him, babydoll.”

“Yes, Steve. Love your cocks filling me whole,” you gasped when Bucky’s cock just hit that spot that made you shudder. With the way things were going, you knew you were gonna be cumming soon. 

“Wanna make a mess outta you, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, lips still wandering over your neck and chest, “Wanna fill you with our cum, paint you with it. Mark you as ours.”

“I’m yours,” you panted out, “I’m all yours,” you moved your body faster, desperate for your release. 

“Go ahead, baby, cum on our cocks. We wanna feel ya,” Steve mumbled in your ear, his hand working faster on your clit. You dug your nails into Bucky’s chest, a pain he happily welcomed. 

“Come on, baby. Give it us. You can do it,” Bucky encouraged you, slapping your ass and kneading the flesh. 

“Fuck, fuck,” you said through gritted teeth. A powerful wave of pleasure washed over you as leaned down, resting your head against Bucky’s while you came.

“So pretty when you cum,” he whispered.

“Such a good girl,” Steve murmured, kissing your back and shoulders. You moved a bit and felt something wet. You sat up and looked down to see that you just squirted all over you and Bucky.

“Oh shit. I’ve never done that before,” you murmured.

Bucky snickered, “First time for everything,” he said with a wink. 

You then moved off his lap, “Well, lemme clean this up for you since it is my mess.” Both men hissed when your hands wrapped around both their lengths, your mouth gliding over Bucky’s stomach and pelvis, collecting your own juices. 

“Oh my God, you’re perfect,” he moaned, his hand grabbing your head and trying to push it towards his cock.

You slapped his hand away, “I already sucked you off, babe. Now it’s Steve’s turn,” you said with a smirk. You gave a wink to the blonde as your mouth lowered onto his dick. Bucky was right, you are perfect. And you’re theirs. All theirs.

[autumn-foxfire]

(1) This chapter really gives me a weird vibe. Up till now, I thought Dabi was his own person. Now I can't shake the feeling I'm looking at a doll. Why did he make Endeavor look worse than he really was? Having him start out good and becoming bad would make people question his current self."Is he gonna go bad again? He did it once! He could do so again. An up and down." And why include BJ if he didn't trust Hawks about that from the start? Seriously, that is one thing I think Dabi was honest (1)

(2)about. Did the HPSC produce a perfect clone of BJ? With a secret quirk for such occasions. Hawks was supposed to find out about the Nomu, so the HPSC must count on the LoV being able to DNA-test any corpse. Was Dabi put together by Ujiko? No way he walked that off, seems like his jaw was blown off besides other things. Did he order the video? It kinda feels like an AFO/Ujiko thing to destroy heroes. Did they have their eyes on him already? Like with Tenko? Did Ujiko finally got a kid to (2)

(3)"tinker" with as he wanted to do with Tenko? And if so, how much? Ujiko is so paranoid about being found, he would never allow Touya to leave alive unless he has full control over him. Controlling what he can do and say. No need for brainwashing him into hating his dad, I think that grudge is his own. Growing stronger over 10 years of being kept prisoner, slowly going insane. How much are Dabi's action's his own? He always asks SHigaraki for permission. He is the only one to control Nomus.(3)

(4)Why would Ujiko trust Dabi with the High Ends after he made clear that he had his own goals? Dabi also always calls him Ujiko-san. Respect is not Dabi-like. And Participating in Deika city with a chance to die goes against all his goals. Great, now that i'm writing, I wonder if even the hate is fake. What if Touya has still his own mind but can only say and do what he's allowed to/what doesn't hinder the LoV directly. Like a more advanced form of Kurogiri. Would be tragic if he's forced (4)

(5)Though I think the hate for his dad is his own, I just wonder now is everything else is not his idea at all. What if Touya hates that his past is used for this? What if Touya actually didn't share his doubts with Ujiko and Ujiko just trusted him after all these years. I wonder if Dabi will look happy at BJs arival instead? Just so many things I now question. What if even the killing was just recruiting. But as corpses to turn into Nomu or have their quirks harvested? I just don't know(5)

(6)I just got weird vibes here, all the oddities of Touya are coming up. I'm feeling there is way more here than just what we all expected. Horikoshi build up this reveal, but what if he has more things planned? I mean, honestly, the Kurogiri part seems so on the side it feels like a set up to show that yes, the dead can come back and worse, be turned into puppets. God, what if they try to talk sense into Touya but it turns out he has no control over himself. Or he really wants to kill (6)

(7) his dad out of hate and then himself just to be free. Part 7 already, I should stop now. I jsut got weird vibes about all this now. All the old theorys are flowing through my head again. I wonder when we find out the whole truth. T_T Well, thanks for listening.(7)

Answer under the cut!!

Personally I’m not a subscriber to the “Dabi knows Ujiko because he was one of his experiments” theory because I don’t think canon has hinted at that being so at all. When Dabi appeared in the lab, Ujiko really didn’t show any attention to him until Dabi noticed the Nomu, and that’s what caught his attention. It wasn’t like he was singling out Dabi (like I’ve seen some people suggest) but rather that he was excited to share about his experiments (have you ever met a scientist? I can guarantee the moment they get to gush about their latest project, that’ll dive at the opportunity, especially someone like Ujiko who’s only friend is the corpses he brings back to life).

Also, about Dabi’s jawbone, if the scanlations I saw were correct, all it said was that a piece of his lower jawbone was left, not that it was blown off. I don’t think you could really tell if the bone belonged to Dabi because the heat of the room would have destroyed all evidence that remained on the bone. It was probably just left behind to signify that someone had been in the room (kinda like what happened in Harry Potter with Peter).

Dabi has always acted independantly from the League and the latest scanlations show us that he hadn’t told the League anything at all (and while they may not be completely accurate but it’s in the same vein). It appears the video planning and bringing down society was his own idea (if it had been an Ujiko and AfO plan then surely they would have included Tenko’s past as he was associated to All Might himself).

Dabi participated in the fight against the MLA because he was forced too and he recognized that disobeying Shigaraki meant he would lose the support of the League and what it could promise him (the Nomu and the ability to take down hero society) in helping achieve his dream. I don’t think he joined because he was programmed too, like Kurogiri was.

While it’s potentially possible that Dabi had some outside help at one point considering the age he ‘died’ and the fact that Dabi managed to lay low for 10 years, I would personally be disappointed if that turned out to be Ujiko and/or All for One because it hasn’t been hinted at, at all (and I don’t include Ujiko jumping on the opportunity to test Nomu when Dabi said he was going to ditch the League and do something else).

You could explore such a possibility in fanfiction but I don’t think it’s very probable in canon. There just hasn’t been enough build up for a reveal like that in my opinion and I would find it to be pretty unsatisfying.

[totally-incorrect-theatre-quotes]

Little Talks (fanfic)

While the intention tonight was to (as usual) write a very Lydia centric fanfic I found myself writing more about Charles. 

No trigger warnings for this fic, while it is a little sad it is really fluffy. 

___________________________________________________________

The weekend’s in the Deetz-Maitland household had become quite chaotic since Lydia started back at school. All the shenanigans that she and Beetlejuice usually got into during the week were now being concentrated into only two days, which equaled a lot of headaches for the more quiet residents in the house. They all secretly loved it though, just seeing Lydia and BJ getting along and being happy. Most of their pranks were harmless as well, though every now and again something in the house would be mysteriously broken with both the culprits having a guilty look on their faces. 

Charles was in the midst of fixing up their last disaster which resulted in the side room having a suspiciously Lydia-shaped hole in the thin walls along with her having some incriminating scrapes and bruises that she denies is from breaking the wall when BJ dared her to try and walk through the walls while he was using possessing her. Needless to say, the idea only partially worked but the issue was that Lydia was still solid and simply broke the wall when she ran into it with full force. While he was finishing up the last of sealing the plaster Charles looked around at his handiwork, remembering the old days back in New York when he and Emily were fixing up their old townhouse when Lydia was still small. They didn’t have much back then, he hadn’t gotten the position he had now until Lydia was a little bit older, but they were happy back then, making do with what they had. Emily always reminding Charles that it wasn’t about the things they owned, but the memories Lydia was going to make. 

He went back up into his office after he finished, flipping through old family photo albums while before Lydia got back from school. His fingers lingering on the pages, not wanting to turn them and have to snap out of the memories he was reliving. Sometimes he liked to go through the books chronologically and watch Lydia grow up, other times he would pick one at random and just flip through the pages never quite knowing what he was going to get. Emily was the one who always wanted the pictures, he had never been a big fan of them or gotten into making the albums but he was grateful that they existed. The book he was looking through at the time was one that he hadn’t seen for a while, one of the really early ones that Emily went into so much effort to make when Lydia was just a baby, her blonde curls lighting up every single page. An off-colored copy of her birth certificate taped to the inside cover listing her full name, he made a mental note to keep that book out of BJ’s reach, knowing that he would tease Lydia mercilessly if he knew what her middle names were. 

He was about halfway through the second book, where Lydia was about three years old when he found a photo he couldn’t stop staring at. There was something about it that made him pause. It was nothing out of the ordinary, from what he remembered that day all those years ago Lydia was playing in the living room with Emily, her stuffed animals all lined up for some reason on the pale blue carpet. Emily laughing and begging Charles to get the camera and take a picture. Most of the stuffed animals in the photo were probably long gone, a phase of her life that she had grown out of, some were maybe still packed away in a box somewhere or donated to a toy drive because she didn’t need them anymore. His eye caught the one she was holding in her hands, a white and grey stuffed owl that even at the time had obvious wear and tear from being played and cuddle with so much. Artie, he thought the name was. He sat the book down on his desk and walked down to the basement where some of the less important boxes from moving in where still stashed.

It was a long shot, he didn’t remember packing it but then again it was probably packed away years ago and he brought every box over from New York to Connecticut. After about twenty minutes of sifting through cardboard boxes with faded labels, he found marked “Lydia’s Toys.” Most of the contents were strange toys that had accumulated over the years including some that he was surprised still made the same annoying noises even after years of being packed away in a box and gathering dust. Others were stuffed animals with matted down fur, dolls with marker scribbles on them or bandaids from her playing doctor. Finally tucked near the bottom of the box he pulled out the dingy owl. He held it in his hands for a while, looking over all the features remembering a young Lydia carrying it around with her everywhere even on the Subway where Charles was paranoid she would lose it and have a WWIII level meltdown until it was located, but here it was twelve years later, looking as though it was frozen in time. He didn’t know why he wanted to find it so badly, something about that photo made him feel something. He debated just setting it back down in the box, sealing it up for another twelve years, maybe giving the whole thing to her if she had a wife and kids of her own. 

He took the stuffed bird upstairs with him, ran it through the washing machine and even asked Barbara to help him sew and restuff the old toy. She didn’t question it, but she happily obliged, asking him if this was a gift for someone. He shrugged, still unsure if he would simply keep it in his office for some kind of posterity or give it to Lydia. The question was answered when he lost track of time and Lydia came running up in the attic, throwing her backpack by the door and kicking off her shoes before hopping on the couch next to Barbara and her father. It to her a second to realize who all was upstairs, and even longer to notice what was in Barbara’s hands. 

“God, I haven’t seen that thing in forever,” she remarked, a hint of hesitation in her voice that went undetected by the others, “Where’d you even find him?”

“I was looking at some old pictures, and I don’t know I just had a feeling that it needed to be found? I think his name was Artie or something like that-”

“Artemis.” She corrected, reaching out for the stuffed owl. She held it in her hands for a second, brushing the now white fur with her thumb before shaking her head and handing it back to her father, “Maybe, I don’t remember. It was a long time ago.” Lydia suddenly stood up from the couch and started to walk towards the door.

“Do you want to hold onto it? For posterity sake?”

“I’m not a little kid anymore dad. I’m fifteen, I don’t need a stuffed owl.”

With that statement she grabbed her backpack and left, her footsteps could be heard going down the stairs, and her bedroom door slammed shut beneath them. Charles sat there bewildered, Lydia always loved that toy, he understood that she was older now but for her to hate it so much, he was confused.

“I’m sorry Charles,” Barbara empathized, “It was a sweet gesture, but at least you can have a nice memory of her childhood for your office.”

He looked back down at the owl, before nodding and wishing the Maitland’s a good night. He went back into his office and placed the bird on one of his bookshelves next to a framed photo of an elementary aged-Lydia beaming at the camera, two gaps where her front teeth should have been that had just become the property of the tooth fairy. He tried to push all the thoughts of what happened away, opening his laptop and diving into work. He wasn’t sure what time it was that he fell asleep but he was woken up by the creaking of his office door. Always on guard that it could be BJ trying to play a prank on him, he instantly snapped awake and shouting, “What are you doing in here?”

But it wasn’t BJ. Flipping on the light switch he saw a startled Lydia clutching at her chest as she tried to catch her breath. She was standing illuminated by the light in the hallway, her baggy t-shirt down to her knees, her eyes were puffy and red and her hands were held behind her back. Charles softened immediately and went over to hug Lydia, she was tense in his arms though not wrapping hers around him. He smiled at her, trying to calm the situation down but she still seemed extremely worked up over something. He glanced around the room, unsure of what to say when he noticed that the owl was now missing off the bookshelf. Charles nodded his head,  opened the photo book off his desk, pulled over a chair and gestured for Lydia to sit next to him. Still staying silent she slowly walked over, the owl appearing from behind her back as she sat down and placed it softly on her lap. 

He flipped the book to the page he was on earlier and pointed at the picture. Lydia’s eyes softened as she was mesmerized by the photo, her mother frozen in a laugh, the owl clutched in her own tiny hands. She took the book in her hands and stared for a while, “You probably won’t believe this because I was so young but I remember this day.”

“You do?”

She nodded, “Me and mom were playing in the living room and for some reason, I wanted to line them all up in a row and dramatically recite stories that she would tell me to them. I used to reenact them sometimes too and I just remember mom laughing the whole time, not because I was being a dumb little kid but, I don’t know, she seemed to be having just as much fun as I was. She never told me my ideas were stupid no matter how out there they were, like remember the time that me and her pretended we were birds for a whole afternoon.”

Charles laughed, “You guys were VERY dedicated to the game. I’m pretty sure she even chewed up food and spit it in your mouth.”

“I know! It was so gross I can’t believe she actually did it.”

“Your mother was up for anything, we would be laying in bed at night and we would just talk for hours about all the things we wanted to do with you. Some plans sooner than others, most of them were her idea. I was never all that good at coming up with them. Like for your fifth birthday we planned out this whole party for you at this outdoor park but then it poured and she didn’t even miss a beat, she had something just as fun planned so that you didn’t have to feel left out on your special day.”

“I didn’t even know that there was ever an original plan.” Lydia giggled, leaning her head on her father’s shoulder as they flipped through more of the photo album. She scrunched up her nose at her old blonde hair and he couldn’t help but laugh, he couldn’t really imagine her as a blonde anymore either. She looked very, Lydia now, but he loved her either way. 

The two of them looked at photo albums for a long time, losing track of time, but every now and again a photo would spark a conversation or earn a laugh or an embarrassed look off of her. The owl still sat propped up in her lap, even as she started to doze off on her father’s shoulder. They got to the end of the book and she sleepily muttered, “I still miss her.”

“I miss her too.” 

She gathered Artemis up in her arms and clutched it close to her chest, “I think I’m getting better, I have days where I think I’m doing so much better and I don’t know why but seeing Artemis again… I didn’t think it would affect me this much, it just brought back a lot of memories.”

“It’s okay to remember, I still can’t be sorry enough that I didn’t let you talk about her before we moved in. I never should have made you feel guilty for wanting to think about the old times, I just didn’t want them to make you sad, you were so sad back then but the thing is there are so many good memories. Like Artemis and birthday parties and lazy days in pajamas just watching movies because it snowed outside.”

She smiled, her eyes drooping shut as she tried to fight away sleep threatening to take over, “Or when she used to speed the car down the hill we were would drive home from school, or she’d pretend she couldn’t find her house keys and pretend some monster or serial killer was chasing us. It’s the little things like that, it makes it so hard to be okay all the time because even looking at a stuffed owl that I was crazy about when I was a baby was enough to wreck me for a whole night.”

“I should have been more careful about giving it to you, it was an emotional object I shouldn’t have tried to pull it off as a casual gift.”

She yawned and burrowed further into his shoulder, closing her eyes gently, “S’okay. Can you talk to me more about her?”

He knew she needed to go to bed, she still had school in the morning but he obliged flipping through another photo album and telling stories from memories that the photos unlocked. The clock on his desk read 2 am when she finally fell asleep, he shifted awkwardly and gathered her up in his arms just as he did when she was so much smaller. He carried her to her bedroom and laid her down in her bed, pulling the covers up and placing Artemis the dingy old owl next to her pillow. 

[dontgotothenetherworld]

Can I maybe request an reader whose bj's friend but has been for too long so they know BJ all too well saving the maitland from his advances and falls in love with them?

beetlejuice’s friend

i am incredibly tired rn so i’m not sure if i fully understand what you’re asking, but i’m vibing w/ what i think you’re asking so yea (the maitlands x beej’s friend reader). you say beej’s friend, so reader’s a demon ahaha

also, i (before writing) feel like there are some lines that’re in the script that i can work off of, so there is a good bit of fourth wall breaking. only beej and reader can talk to/ interact with audience.

1493 words

cw: gnreader.

”the people who live there? i’ve been watching them for a while, and yeah it’s very creepy.” beej monologued. or would it be soliloquyed? soliloqueyed doesn’t sound as good, so let’s go with monologued. “and now, finally, they’re about to die!” beej liked talking to the audience. it made him feel important. you rolled your eyes. “they’re gonna be my new best friends!” 

you stepped out of the wings. “and what would that make me?” while beej was more of a musical theatre kind of guy, you were much more of a sitcom kind of guy, so you imagined a camera zoom like in the office.

”i’m this asshole’s best friend, and trust me when i say this, that’s not a position you want.” you addressed the audience.

”oh? what position would you prefer?” beej lowered his voice.

you scoffed, “case and point. you’ll be getting a lot of that in this goddamn show. single men, take notes on what not to do!”

beej frowned.

”barbara, i’m home!” speaking of sitcoms, here comes the loving husband. damn, can’t relate.

beetlejuice turned from you to the audience, “adam and barbara maitland!”

”was there traffic on the bridge?” barbara asked like she actually cared. damn, can’t relate.

”bill hadley on his tractor. i was like, “pick a lane, bill.””

”isn’t this amazing? it’s the last day of their entire lives and this is what they’re talking about.” said beetlejuice.

”beej, take you on a random day and say that’s your last day ever. do you say any impressively insightful shit?” you ask.

”absolutely.” beej grins.

”not.” you finish his sentence. the scene returns to the maitlands before he can say anything else.

i’m sure you’ve seen the show, you know how it goes. maitlands are boring, maitlands sing fast because they have anxiety, maitlands conveniently die at the end of their song, beetlejuice rejoices. whatever, we don’t care about that part. i mean we do, just not right now.

”sometimes, puppet shows are sad.” you say, directed at the small child in the third row. who brings their eight year old to see beetlejuice?

”barbara are you alright?” the moment passed.

you and beetlejuice hide offstage as the maitlands figure out they’re dead. It’s rather annoying, when breathers die. they always have the same reaction. they could spice it up sometimes. 

you suppose that’s what beej is here to do. to spice up their reactions.

beetlejuice rings the doorbell. without waiting for either of them to answer, he walks right in. he introduces himself and starts singing. you walk in behind him, arms crossed.

one of the cheerleaders runs past you, knocking into your arm. 

”i’m the b to the double e j f q and jesus, i can’t spell.” beetlejuice eyed the maitlands up and down.

the maitlands seemed like nice people. they don’t deserve what was sure to come to them. you stood yourself up from the door frame, and made your way to the center of the room where the trio where.

”let’s all get naked!” beetlejuice screamed. 

”no!” the maitlands screamed back. you swung your backhanded fist into his stomach. 

”oh!” he let out a guttural noise. “worth a try.” he reasoned.

”what is happening?” barbara asked in a shaky voice, her eyes flashing between the two demons before her. one, who hadn’t spoken a single word, and the other who wouldn’t fucking shut up.

beetlejuice went back to trying to convince them that they should ‘hire’ him. while insulting them, of course, because why wait until a relationship turns unhealthy when you can just start it off that way?

”i’m like a ghost zombie jesus!” god, you needed new friends. maybe you can steal the maitlands away. if you think about it, and you do, it would really only be a win situation from that. you wouldn’t have to deal with beej, you’d get some new friends who would be kind to you. the maitlands wouldn’t even have to think about beetlejuice again, and they would get to hang out with you, and not to toot your horn but you’re pretty damn cool. at first, beetlejuice would lose, with the whole everyone abandoning him thing, but you’re pretty sure that it’s be this time that he changed himself to be a better person.

you hope.

”i think we’re a perfect fit! come on, let’s make out a bit!” you physically pushed beetlejuice away from the maitlands.

beej just gave you an annoyed look, and went back to right next to them, giving them is sales pitch.

you slunk off to the couch. you spread your body across it as if you owned it. adam spared you a curious glance. barbara, soon after.

the four of you made your way off stage, to the attic, as the deetzes and their furniture invaded the house.

”hey beej,” you needed to get beetlejuice away from the maitlands, so you could talk to them, but how? “you better spy on the new homeowners so we know what we’re working with.”

”good idea!” he said.

you grabbed his tie in your hand and pulled him close, “and don’t come back until you know what’ll scare them so hard they wished they’d never been born.” beetlejuice wasn’t very sure of himself, so you’d have a while.

”sir, yes sir!” he ran off like a cartoon character, legs going the full 360.

you turned to the maitlands, eyes flicking between them, trying to decide where to start.

”who are you?” asked adam.

”i’m y/n,” you said, “and i’m a demon, just like beetlejuice.” you grinned like the cheshire cat.

the maitlands shared a concerned glance. “are you going to help us too?” asked barbara.

”well, yes, but not the way you think i am.” you began pacing the floor. “first things first, don’t listen to a word that bastard says. the only things he wants is to be alive, and to get into your pants. the former being more important to him, no offense.”

”so he wants to use us?” asked barbara.

”yes, of course.”

”and how do we know you don’t want to use us either?” she asked.

”good question.” you paused to collect your thoughts, “i suppose you’ll just have to trust me.”

the maitlands exchanged another look. do married people do that often? it was starting to get annoying. well, annoying that they weren’t looking at you like that.

after a moment, adam said, “i don’t think we can fully trust you right now, but hopefully that’ll change.”

”quite the optimist, huh? i envy you.” you said.

how to best gain their trust? probably by being the antithesis of their experience with demons so far.

about an hour later, the trio was still brainstorming a plan. “so, why can’t we just lock him into the netherworld again?” adam asked.

”his mother.” you said. 

adam nodded, “right, right. we don’t want to put him through that.”

barbara jumped in, ”and if we leave this place, we’ll be eaten by sandworms, but if we go to the netherworld,”

”you’ll be in that waiting room for the rest of eternity, exactly.” you finished.

you sat in silence for a minute, mulling over your options. so far it was seeming that beetlejuice was going to have to go back to his parent’s house.

”what about sending him out to the sand worms?” asked barbara.

”barbara, you’re a genius!” exclaimed adam.

you imagined what would happen. “i think that’ll work.” you said. “oh! and we can put a protection spell on the house after he’s left! then , no demons will be able to get in.” you pulled out a copy of the handbook for the recently deceased, from seemingly nowhere. beej burned barbara’s copy of the book, but not adam’s.

you placed the book on the floor, and you began looking for the spell with the maitlands looking over your shoulders.

”do you know that a spell like that exists?” asked adam.

”of course i do, i just don’t remember how to do it.” you said.

”and do you know that it won’t expel you from the house too?” asked barbara.

”i guess we’ll find out.” you turned to face her.

”i hope it doesn-” barbara was cut off.

”here it is!” exclaimed adam. “and it doesn’t say anything about expelling demons, just keeping them out.” adam skimmed the instructions.

you turned back to the book, and the group sat in silence as you carefully read it all.

you sat back, “i- we can do this.” 

the maitlands high-fived. god, they were adorable.

”the real question is, do you still want the new homeowners out of this place? because if i’m being honest, beej would be better at that than me.” you said.

the maitlands shared a look.

”i-” barbara looked at adam, “i think we should talk about it.”

”oh, of course.” you replied. “do you want me to give y’all some privacy?”

”yes please.” said barbara.

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi

[hoodoo12]

Familial Ties (And How To Break Them) 2/14

SFW chapter here

Somewhere between twenty minutes and twenty years later, Pate let herself into her apartment and shut the door behind her, leaning heavily against it with a long sigh. This had certainly been the longest and strangest night of her entire life, but she was really starting to feel the fatigue and her temples still throbbed painfully. Lifting her bag off her shoulder she carried it to her bedroom, her feet dragging tiredly.

"Hey. Hey!" Beetlejuice complained as he squeezed into her apartment behind her. "I don't need the door, but not holding it for me? RUDE."

Pate gasped softly, jolted back to awareness of her houseguest by his exclamation.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry!" she immediately apologized. "I...erm, sort of forgot you were back there. Make yourself comfortable, I guess. I'm... probably gonna go to bed..."

With narrowed eyes, he stared at her just a moment longer than polite, then he grinned widely.

"Comfortable, huh? I think I'd be most comfortable in that bed with you sugar."

She gulped, mortified to feel a blush creeping into her face once again on account of him. Clutching her bag against her middle like a canvas shield, she had to admit that there was something about him she found undeniably attractive. And he certainly was charming and apparently devoid of anything like a filter.

But still, she hesitated, trying to think while a fluttery sensation filled her stomach.

"I'm flattered," she said, finally willing herself to meet his eyes. "But I don't know if that's a good idea, Bheteljuz."

He'd grinned even wider at how flustered she was. She was cute. His smile faded and he winced at the use of his full name. He struggled to bring a natural, easy set to his face.

Pate frowned at the grimace that crossed his face, quick as a flickering light, but the smile he wore now look strained around the edges.

"Are you okay?" she asked, a little surprised herself to find that she did feel genuinely concerned.

"I'm doing fine," he lied. "Summoning nausea. You know. Standard stuff."

He twisted his face into what he hoped was less pained and more excited.

"Which way to the boudoir?"

Pate quirked an eyebrow at him. He was definitely acting strange. Well, stranger. She had a bit of an idea what it might be, but first she'd need to do a little experimentation.

"It's right through there," she said, pointing out her bedroom door. "Look around if you want, but I still plan to go to sleep alone."

She emphasized the word, hoping it sounded firmer than she felt. Leaving him to his own devices, she shut herself in the bathroom to change.

Faced with another door shutting him out, he briefly considered slipping through that one too. But it was more interesting for the moment to wander in her apartment. He ran his fingers over the spines of the books he found, rifled through her mail, and rooted through her refrigerator.

With a satisfied grin to himself, he settled onto her couch. He'd seen the way she'd looked at him. She couldn't deny his roguish charm.

Pate stood at the sink, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth, staring pensively at the water going down the drain. Her temples were still aching, but for the moment she was focusing on how to suss out whatever Beetlejuice was up to. She rinsed out her mouth, turned off the faucet, and prepared to test her theory.

She half expected to find him sprawled across her bed when she opened the bathroom door, but it was mercifully vacant. Taking a deep breath, fighting down the nerves squirming in her gut, she stepped out into the living room, looking up expectantly when she paused in the doorway. Here goes, she thought.

"How's your nausea, Bheteljuz?"

He jumped and was on his feet at the mild electric shock that coursed through him through the use of his name. He tried to play it off as 'happy to see you', and not 'alarmed'.

"Babydoll, you gotta give me fair warning when you're gonna surprise me like that! Especially if you've gotten ready for bed, and are just going to ask if I'd be so kind as to join you. To which, of course, I would graciously accept, and rock your world."

The sensation that her stomach was full of wriggling things increased at the lascivious look on his face and Pate cleared her throat, crossing her arms over her chest self-consciously and wishing that she hadn't already put on her night shirt before coming out here for her little experiment. Flustered but undeterred, she pressed onward.

"Bheteljuz!"

Immediately the teasing was gone. He had two options: begging, or --

“Be very careful about what you say next, babydoll," Beetlejuice said in a low voice. He dropped his chin and looked at Pate from under his brows. "You called up a demon, remember?"

Her breath stalled in her throat. For the first time since their unconventional meeting, Beetlejuice actually looked rather demonic; glowering at her with eyes that seemed to be faintly glowing, his voice coming out in a warning growl. She'd be lying if she said it didn't make her heart thump just a little harder against her ribs, but she'd come this far. Either her theory was right or it was wrong, and she was about to find out one way or another. She swallowed once more and sucked in a breath.

"Bhe-"

"Hey!" he interrupted. As quickly as the threat had come, he dropped it.

"Hey hey hey, sugar, baby, babydoll," he cooed, with a nervous laugh. "Just let's wait a sec. Talk things over! Take a step back, reassess, and make well-informed decisions here. Why don't you table that thought--and I'm sure it was a good one, coming from such a pretty, intelligent woman such as yourself--and we'll pretend none of this unpleasantness ever happened. What'd ya say? Hmm?"

Pate blinked, taken aback by his complete behavioral 180, but it seemed to confirm her theory.

"So that's how it works," she mused, mostly to herself but loudly enough for him to hear. "Your name is the key. I said your name three times back in the office and that's how I summoned you."

She brushed a hand absently through her hair, reasoning it out, rubbing at her throbbing temple. "So if I say your name three more times, it... sends you away, doesn't it?”

It was times like this that reminded him of why he preferred to deal with dumb ghosts. Beggars can't be choosers, though . . .

Beetlejuice laughed again; hopefully less forced this time but at this point, he couldn't even tell.

"You, ah, caught me, babydoll. Saw right through me. Should've known you would figure it out . . . well, you're brainy. So yeah. Three times again and I'm out. I'd . . . well, I mean, it'd be nice if . . ." His voice trailed off, pathetically.

A hangdog expression may work where threats and begging hadn't, so he looked sad and worried.

Nodding her understanding, Pate hummed thoughtfully to herself. He looked so despondent, her having sniffed out his secret, and she did feel a twinge of guilt for jerking him along just to satisfy her own curiosity. She flashed him a sheepish smile.

"Well, I sure don't wanna send you away accidentally, so I ought to call you something else. D'you have a nickname?"

He gave a visible sigh of relief, then smiled brightly at her.

"You're an absolute doll," he complimented, and tried not to make it sound creepy. Taking a second to think about her question, he finally had to admit, "I don't usually get to stick long enough to warrant a nickname. Anything from your mouth is going to sound good, sugar."

That time it did border on the creep again.

Pate's own grin widened and she had to laugh. Was flirting the way he breathed? Did he breathe at all? Either way, she took a moment to think over what to call him, coming up with a few ideas to throw out and see which he preferred.

"How about BJ?"

"Oh baby . . . I do love a good BJ."

She blushed again, then sighed.

"I blame myself," she muttered. "Beej. I'm gonna call you Beej, if that works?"

He rolled that around a little in his head.

"Yeah, that'll work. You missed a prime opportunity for a good, 'that's what she said,' though," he grinned and licked his lips.

His gaze darted down her; in the worry of the whole name thing he'd almost forgotten she had changed for bed.

Pate scoffed, stifling a yawn.

"Nah, I was setting it up for you," she insisted, circling the pads of her fingers against her temple, which was still pounding away. "Anyway, you can watch TV if you want, I'm beat so I'm heading to bed."

To his delight, her oversized shirt rode up a little to the tops of her thighs as she rubbed her head.

"Looks like maybe you need a nice massage," he offered, cracking his knuckles. "I promise if you let me give you a good rub down, you'd forget all about that headache you seem to be having . . ."

Tingling heat shot like an electric current from her scalp all the way to her toes, leaving goosebumps in its wake. She was suddenly keenly aware of just how exposed she was, somehow feeling more naked than if she weren't wearing anything at all.

Tugging ineffectively at the hem of her nightshirt, Pate swallowed with some effort and replied, "Thanks for the offer, Beej, but, um.... rain check?"

She backed into her bedroom, fumbling for the door with backward swipes to keep the leering demon in sight as she moved to cower behind the door.

"Good night, then," she squeaked awkwardly through the narrowing aperture, closing the door with a soft click.

 tbc

[ndragoon]

Seems like it's one of those nights.

I don't know. It feels like I need to get so much out of my head, but every time I try to put any of it into words it just ends up as some rambling word salad. None of it makes sense, or else it is just something I've probably said here a hundred times already.

I hate myself. I hate everything about myself. I hate how I feel like I must have done something horribly, unspeakably awful to deserve a punishment like this.

My brain doesn't work. I can't think, I can't remember, sometimes I just can't think anymore and my brain needs to do a full reset before it can start doing anything again. Typing, speaking, walking, you name it. I'll just stop in the middle, stare off into space, and then need to take a moment to reorient myself and hope that I can find out what I was saying or doing so I don't look like a massive idiot.

My thoughts feel like a bunch of clashing gears all struggling to keep the mechanism going. Sometimes they manage to coordinate enough to get something done, but it feels more like sheer coincidence rather than actual intention. It feels like if I can't do something on mindless autopilot, then it requires 150% of my maximum brainpower while I can only run at a strict maximum of 40%.

Memories, but especially names, escape me. Not just people names, but names of objects, places, and whatever else. I need to describe them or their use. It's difficult to talk to people about my special interests without making a complete fool of myself, because I can tell you the underlying mechanics and storyline, but then I have to describe items, cards, gems, weapons, characters, places, you name it. It makes me feel like a failure because others with special interests can tell you every single detail of every single thing using all the names and they can just recite them like an actor would for a play.

I need to stress the memory part more because I used to practically have an eidetic memory for some things, like how I could draw maps of places after only being there once (assuming it wasn't some kind of sprawling complex where every single room and hallway and nearly identical). Now, it's just a fog or a haze and I can only remember things roughly at best for places I've been multiple times.

It feels like having gripes about my appearance are so...superficial? Shallow? It feels like I'm supposed to like myself and every bit of my exterior unconditionally, and wishing anything was different is just something that people who only care about their appearance are supposed to do.

I don't mind my gut, surprisingly. It's smooth and round and doesn't have all the folds and rolls that some lighter but bigger people have that I dislike the look of.

I do dislike how thin and sparse my body hair is. I do have some traces on my thighs, belly, forearms, underarms, and my pubes - though they are all so thin and sparse you have to actually look for it because it barely counts as hair. I do have a single tuft in the middle of my chest, though, for whatever reason. It's the thickest, darkest patch of hair anywhere.

The only traces of facial hair I have is a thin line of hair on my upper lip, 5 tiny and short hairs right below the middle of my bottom lip, and a bunch of thick, wiry, and obvious hairs on the area between my chin and neck. It's a patch the size of my palm and stays consistent.

One of the things I envy about most other overweight men is the fact that their penis is external all the time. Even flaccid, it just dangles there for all to see or to play with. Meanwhile, even when I'm hard mine stays hidden. It was small from birth, stayed small through puberty, and got even smaller for whatever reason since then.

I hate saying anything about it because just mentioning it comes across as your typical "shallow male complaint" of "I wish my dick was bigger, 7 inches is too small". But I can't top because of it, and nobody wants to touch it because they all expect something much larger.

Recently, I've been dealing with one of those infamous anal fissures. They are so dang painful and perpetually bleed so much. It just adds to the strictures (basically scar tissue on the sphincter) my doctor said I had, and looking them up just told me that I basically either take a few years to manually stretch things out to get at least some stretchiness back, or forsake doing things back there entirely. I'm more inclined to just forsaking things entirely since just going to the bathroom after taking my meds for a few days was enough to cause a tear.

And this part is less shallow.

I was doing some thinking, because even though it is difficult to recognize and point things out as they happen, sometimes you can realize it after the fact. My exhaustion and easy fatigue have been around for a while. Putting it lightly, of course. I had realized I showed signs for years now, albeit nowhere near as bad as now.

Giving a bj to my fourth ex, G, was difficult because even though I greatly enjoyed it, my jaw started to hurt and ache so incredibly quickly. We chalked it up to inexperience and I tried to practice, but never got another chance to try with him. When I got to my eighth, J, I was having the same issues. Except I also had issues with my hands, where my arms would ache and become incredibly weak to the point of uselessness before I could get him to climax. No matter how many times I tried, I never got or felt any better and it was a point of frustration to him. Even though he never reciprocated (except for once, but that was a nightmare) I don't blame him for feeling that way, I'm frustrated with myself because I get that way just taking care of my own thing. Plus, even just eating is enough to make my jaw ache and feel swollen anymore.

And another thing is the whole vacation bit I mentioned in another post. When I was working, I always thought that it felt like I'd go to sleep at the end of the day, and instead of being fully rested my batter would only be at 99%. And then the next day it would only be at 98%. It wasn't always a literal day between, but that's how it felt. Taking a week long break didn't make me feel any better, I felt like I was at a permanent 75% regardless of how much sleep I got during that week. Even talking to a buddy, he told me that staying awake for two days and then sleeping at a normal time makes you feel like a god, but it just made me feel even more tired and worn out.

But now, I feel like I'm at a permanent 25%. All it takes is anything more than just one quick trip to the local small store to wipe me out for the whole day. If I spend a day with friends (don't bark at me, only two of them work, one is tested almost daily and the other refuses contact because of the high risk of their job, the rest stay at home all day) then I come home feeling like I just ran a marathon and need to sleep. Taking a walk around the grocery store takes me out for the rest of the day.

And I just...I don't know. None of the docs are willing to cooperate because I don't spend an hour a day exercising, because I have this junk food diet that they assigned me upon first sight, because I'm not working.

I'm socially dead because I'm not working. Every time I talk to someone, it's about where I'm working, what job I moved to, what I'm doing now that I'm not still stocking shelves. If I say my health declined and I'm trying for disability, they always just give me this look like I'm just one of those lazy kids who want to work the system and that's that.

My head is just so cloudy and it's getting difficult to think. So I think I'm done writing and rewriting and rewriting and rewriting this. It's already a massive essay that nobody reads, but at least I have a written record, albeit anonymously, of how things went down so at least someone can see my body when it fails someday and know my history and what I went through up to this point. I don't want it to be a huge mystery to everyone just because my family discounts how I feel and try to pretend nothing is wrong.

[kenzieam]

The Tutor - Chapter Seven

Pairing: AU Bucky X Levi

Rating: M (my usual, lovelies)

Warnings: language, drama, angst, mentions of abuse

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Levi the jock needs help in high school and her twin brother, Steve, volunteers his newest friend, Bucky. Seemingly just to piss her off, Bucky accepts but soon realizes there’s more to the Levi than she lets the average spectator see.

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Feedback = Happy writer…. lol

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LAST CHAPTER Y’ALL!!!

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“Bucky?!” She shrieked.

He grinned hugely, managed it drop the duffel he held in one hand and the backpack slung over the opposite shoulder, bracing himself for impact as Levi launched herself at him, wrapping her legs around his waist, staggering back a step on the covered porch with a chuckle as he buried his head in her hair and clung just as tightly to her as she was to him.

“Hey baby.” He purred, nuzzling close, body stilling for a beat as he just absorbed her, glorying in the sensation of her safe in his arms again then released her legs, letting her feet drop to the wooden deck.

“Hey,” a new voice boomed, and Levi lifted her head from Bucky’s chest enough to glance back over her shoulder and see her twin brother approaching. “I was wondering when you’d finally get here.”

“You knew?!” Levi screeched, fingers curling in Bucky’s shirtfront, gaping at her brother.

Steve grinned widely then pointed a finger at Bucky. “He wanted to keep it a secret.”

Levi snapped her head to glare at Bucky, who grinned sheepishly.

“That’s why you’ve been weird?!”

“I was scared of giving it away, doll. Do you know how tough it’s been, trying to keep this a secret-”?

“I thought you were going to break up with me!”

Bucky gaped at her for a heartbeat, a thousand emotions swirling through his eyes, surprise being chief among them, his jaw dropping. “What? No, doll-”

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore!”

Bucky pulled her close again, crushing her to his chest. He sounded like he was trying not to laugh, or maybe even cry. “No, baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t think-”

“You big, dumb ASSHOLE!” Levi continued, not yet pacified, pushing at his chest then whirling to brandish a shaking finger at Steve, who took a step back, not entirely sure if his womb-mate was truly murderous or not. “And you, FUCKER!!”

Bucky tried again, wrapping his arms around Levi and pulling her towards him, her back crashing into his chest. He dropped his head and murmured feverishly into her ear.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I would never want to break up, I’d never find anyone better than you-” his lips brushed against her, pressing frantic kisses to the soft skin below her ear and, despite her indignation, Levi’s body surrendered to the heavenly sensations.

Boys.

DUMB boys.

Stupid asshole BOYS.

She exhaled heavily, huffing a breath and turning her head to glare at Bucky, who gazed forlornly back, his chin resting on the edge of her shoulder, brow creased, puppy-dog sorrow in his eyes, bottom lip poking out. She couldn’t stay mad and the grin that pulled at her lips was answered by a relieved chuckle from Bucky.

“Dick.” She whispered fondly and Bucky grinned widely, pressing a kiss to her lips as she turned in his arms to face him.

“You still mad at me?” Steve asked.

Levi answered with her middle finger thrown over her shoulder, lips still pressed to Bucky’s and Steve snorted and rolled his eyes, knowing his twin well enough to see that he was probably safe.

“On that note,” Steve said loudly, trying to catch the lover’s attention again as their kiss deepened, starting to forget the world around them. When that didn’t work, he reached out with his foot and tapped Levi in the back of the knee, hard enough to push her off balance, her and Bucky’s heads cracking together. Bucky groaned, reaching up to hold his forehead as Levi rounded on her twin, slavering for his blood. Expecting this, Steve grinned winningly and threw up his hands. “On that note,” he tried again, raising his voice. “I’m heading out.”

It took Levi a moment to comprehend. “What?”

Steve shrugged. “Pizza should be here soon; I’m going to stay over at Peggy’s.”

“Steve, you don’t have to-” Levi began.

“Hell no, I ain’t sticking around for this, I know what shit you two are going to get up to.” He grinned and slung a backpack onto his shoulder, pressing a kiss to Levi’s head and slapping Bucky’s shoulder. “Don’t hurt yourselves.” He chuckled and Bucky pulled Levi back into his embrace as they watched him walk to his vehicle, waving merrily at them as he pulled away.

“Doofus.” Levi murmured fondly, then took a deep breath and turned to face Bucky; he gazed down at her silently, waiting for her to continue. Was she still upset? Still pissed? Still laboring under the ridiculous delusion that Bucky could somehow let her go?

“I’m sorry.” He whispered again, tracing the back of his bent finger along her jaw, eyes flicking back and forth between hers, studying her. He relaxed infinitesimally when Levi sighed and leaned her head into his touch, his heart stuttering suddenly in his chest when she reached up, pressing her hand to his heart then closed the small distance between them, nestling against him again.

“How long are you here for?” She asked, voice hushed.

Bucky tightened his arms, grinning madly as he finally got to tell her the best part. “Until I graduate, doll.”

“What?”

“I transferred.”

Levi jolted in his embrace, head snapping up to regard him. “Transferred?” There was a heartbreaking edge in her voice, as if she believed she’d just hallucinated his words, and was now on the edge of tears as she expected the happy bubble to pop.

“Yeah,” Bucky dropped a kiss to her forehead and gripped her chin, running his thumb along her bottom lip. He couldn’t stop touching her, not after so long apart.

“But… your mom… your sisters…” Levi trailed off uncomfortably, eyes boring into his, her forehead furrowed.

“They’re good, baby.” Bucky murmured, lowering his head to plant another kiss to her forehead. “Mom’s come a long way this year, this was actually her idea.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She had the same reason I did for you, get out and live. She’s got my sisters enrolled in some afterschool clubs and she arranged this new schedule with her boss so she can work most of the time from home anyway, she’s…” he searched for the right word. “She’s healing, finally. She can talk about Dad without breaking down, she can remember all these funny little stories and tell them now without crying…. It’s great.” He fell silent, recalling something his mom had said to him, just a few days ago, something he wasn’t ready to share with anyone, not even Lev, yet.

“You’re just like your dad, Bear.” His mom smiled, reaching over to cup her son’s face, eyes beginning to glitter as her words elicited humbled surprise in her firstborn.

“Really?” There was a heartbreaking catch in Bucky’s voice. His father was his icon, the idol he’d always strive to be, to make proud; the ideal he reached for daily.

She nodded, near tears at her son’s reaction. “He’d be so proud of you, taking care of us like you have. It’s like gazing back in time, you look almost identical to him back when we first met. He was in college too, but already grown up, wise beyond his years, a protector.” She paused, and a single tear trekked down her cheek. “It’s an honor to call myself your mother.”

“Buck?” Levi whispered tentatively, lifting her head to gaze up at him.

Clearing his throat, Bucky pushed away the memory before it made him full-on cry and smiled down at her. “Yeah?”

“I love you.” There was a bedrock sincerity in her voice, the simple statement of a most basic fact.

“I love you.” He replied, leaning down to press another tender kiss to her lips. After a beat, his eyes popped open again and he pulled away, straightening as his eyes snapped back and forth in confusion. “What the hell is that sound?”

Lev burst out laughing as the most epic piece of shit car Bucky had ever seen wheezed its way up the driveway behind his truck and backfired almost cheerfully as it died, white smoke partially obscuring the ludicrous sight it made.

“Pizza’s here.”

Bucky stared incredulously as the delivery guy emerged, tall and gangly and resembling a clown exiting a miniscule clown car, carrying two boxes of pizza. The guy stared too long at his girl and a low, unconscious growl started deep in his chest. The man’s eyes flicked to Bucky’s, saw murder glaring back and quickly stopped his appraisal of Levi, the hint of a grin that said he was imagining all sorts of ‘pizza guy gets BJ as surprise tip’ scenarios that no doubt littered his Pornhub history disappearing instantly.

Approaching the couple like Bucky was indeed a rabid wolf with his eyes locked on his newest meal, the pizza guy gave Levi a quick, nervous smile and all but shoved the boxes in her hands, waving off her offer of her credit card.

“Your brother already paid.” He gulped and a wicked satisfaction thrummed low in Bucky’s chest, watching him squirm. There was no doubt Levi was his and he valued every sweaty second he’d spent in the gym this last year, if this worm’s reaction were any sort of guidance as to his physique.

Levi waited until the Civic had screeched away before giggling, turning in Bucky’s arms to gaze up at him. “Bucky, you’re terrible.” She grinned.

“You’re mine.” Bucky countered huskily.

“Yes.” Levi agreed quietly, then set her jaw imperiously. “And you’re mine, Barnes.”

Bucky let all his thoughts bleed into his eyes for a heartbeat, all his need and want and hunger for Levi, all the ways he was going to take her tonight, satisfy the animal inside that had gone for too long without and Levi inhaled sharply, her own need mirroring back, promising a wild night; with effort, Bucky pulled his attention elsewhere.

There was shit to do first, chief among them to actually go back into the house.

Understanding, Levi cleared her throat. “You have more to move in?”

“Just a bit.” Bucky jerked his chin towards his truck.

“Let me put these inside then I can help.” Levi squirmed free and darted into the house, reappearing in moments and skipping along to follow him.

Two trips later, all of Bucky’s belongings were piled in the spare bedroom across the hall from Lev’s and they were back in the kitchen, tucking into the pizza before it got cold.

Bucky was no more enchanted by Lev’s Donair Special than Steve had been and sent a silent thank you to the man as he took a huge bite of plain old Pepperoni, letting Lev dig happily into her pile of nope herself.

As they ate, Lev gave a rundown of the house and neighborhood, which neighbors to avoid and which to chat up; apparently Steve had charmed an old lady down the street into giving him just-picked raspberries all summer and regularly received freshly baked cookies from some other grandson-deprived old blue-hair the next block over in exchange for mowing her lawn, while Levi had only managed to piss off the retired couple across the street by accidentally falling into their Fuschias one day when she’d gone jogging and suffered a sudden Charley-Horse in her hamstring. Not even a gift of a pair of vibrant Geraniums in their own little gilded pots had fully thawed the pair, although progress was being made, albeit slowly.

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. His girl did have a way with people; how she and Steve were even related when it came to stuff like that was one of the universe’s mysteries.

After a few minutes, and a few slices, the gnawing hunger in Bucky’s stomach, for food at least, had faded and he pushed the plate away with a groan. Levi eyed him, a hint of mischief in her eyes and Bucky felt hugely guilty when he couldn’t stop a sudden yawn.

“Sorry baby,” he murmured, rubbing his face and smiling sheepishly.

“No problem, you’ve been driving. That’s why you didn’t even answer your phone these last two days?”

Bucky nodded. “I’m sorry, doll. But ever since I got everything finalized with the transfer and moving out here, I was so damn excited I was afraid I’d give it all away. I wanted to surprise you and I knew if you got a good look at my face these last few weeks, I wouldn’t be able to hide it. And there was no way I’d be able to keep it secret while I was actually on my way here.”

“Your mom said you were working.” Levi replied. “She was in on it.”

“She was…. Did you really think I was seeing someone else?” The very thought hurt, a sharp ache deep in his chest.

“What else was I supposed to think?” Levi asked, shrugging her shoulders and Bucky saw between the lines to words Levi herself probably wasn’t even aware she was saying. She still, despite time and distance and Bucky’s attention and love, still thought she was unworthy; somewhere deep in her psyche Brock still muttered and threatened and while she may not even notice it, it chewed away at her subconscious all the same.

Words could only convey so much, and, in the end, they were only words, cheap and plentiful. Bucky was going to show Lev how wrong she was, how deeply and fundamentally flawed Brock’s projection of her was and he wouldn’t stop until she truly believed him, until the ugly taint of her stepfather was well and truly gone and, if it took the rest of their lives, so be it.

Bucky rose and moved to crouch at Levi’s side; she watched him silently, brow furrowing ever so slightly, relaxing again when Bucky took her hands.

“You’re it for me, baby.” He whispered. “This last year has been the best and the worst of my life. The best because I have you, but also the worst because we’ve been apart. Sure, it would have been easy to find someone else, my classes were full of girls, but none of them were you. You’re all I want, you’re everything I want and eventually, you’ll believe me.”

Tears sparkled in Lev’s eyes. “I believe you,” she began. “I just…” Don’t believe in myself, her eyes continued.

Bucky’s eyes bored into hers, flicking rapidly between her bewitching amethyst irises. No more words, he just wanted to hold her, and he murmured that tenderly to her, watching her reaction, grinning when simple delight and excitement lit up her face. Brock had been wrong, about almost everything, but especially about Lev being a princess, it was shockingly easy to make her happy, just be with her.

“You probably want a shower though, first?” Levi said. “Driving all day?”

“Actually, yeah.” Bucky agreed, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. Road grime clung to him like sweat and he was reluctant to taint her with it.

“Go ahead, we share the one bathroom up there, I showed you already. Towels are in the closet and-” she broke off, cheeks going adorably pink. “I have a bottle of your body wash up there if you don’t have any. I’d use it before bed so I could smell you as I fell asleep.”

Bucky rose, pulling Lev to her feet with him and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He’d done the same thing at home, using her favorite green tea brand when the yearning got too much. Lev gently stepped back, out of his space and smiled up at him.

“I’ll clean up down here and lock up. Meet me in my room and we can snuggle and watch movies.”

“Sounds good, doll.” Bucky threw her a crooked grin then disappeared upstairs.

One heavenly shower later, Bucky entered Levi’s room, clad in low-slung sweats and a t-shirt. Levi had a nest on her king-size bed, pillows piled up and blankets scattered, and a small projection system shining on a bare spot on the wall, making for a surprisingly large viewing screen. A few bowls of snacks sat on her bedside table. Biting her bottom lip, Lev lifted the blanket covering her, inviting Bucky to join her underneath them and revealing that she’d changed clothes while he’d been gone, now sporting a tiny pair of lacy underwear and silky camisole.

“Jesus, doll.” Bucky grunted, feeling his pulse speed up. “I thought you wanted to watch movies.” He was teasing, he’d no more intended to simply watch tv tonight anymore than Levi did, but he loved the adorable little flash of mischief in her eyes.

“I do.” She giggled and patted the bed beside her. “This is how you and I watch movies, remember?”

He’d lived for nothing else at times and hummed happily as he joined her, feeling the warmth of her smooth skin as he pulled her close. Reclining back on the stack of pillows, he tucked Levi securely to his chest, cradled between his thighs and sighed happily, just letting the reality of the situation sink into him.

“I’m here, with you. Finally.”

Levi hummed in agreement, made a vague gesture towards the remote without lifting her head from his chest and Bucky chuckled, reaching for it himself and studying it for a moment before hitting the right button. Within moments the screen was illuminated, opening credits rolling and Bucky was tilting his head to rest on Levi’s, letting his eyes fall shut for a heartbeat as he savored the moment.

Despite his best intentions to make it through at least one movie, to demonstrate at least a modicum of restraint, Bucky grumbled a silent ‘fuck this’ in his mind and gave up trying to resist Levi’s heavenly body tucked close to him a quarter of the way through the film; he could exercise his willpower some other time.

Levi had been half-asleep, lulled by Bucky wrapped around her and inhaled sharply, stretching sweetly against his chest when he dropped his head to press a series of slow, sucking kisses to the side of her neck. She held her breath in anticipation as he took his time, tucking her hair to the side and studying the best place to touch his lips before each tender kiss, eyes fluttering shut as he took in her dizzying scent, felt her pulse go wild under his mouth.

“Bucky,” she breathed, dropping her head back, opening her throat more for him. Bucky pulled her tighter with a sharp sigh, one arm looping around her just above her breasts while the other hand skimmed down her belly before snugging under the waistband of her underwear.

She jolted lightly in his arms with a whimper as his fingertips brushed her folds and he hummed in low satisfaction at the fact that she was already wet for him. Levi arched her back, brushing her sweet ass against his rapidly hardening cock as he slowly but inexorably pushed a thick finger inside her, thumb rolling around her clit. His teeth bit down, gently, on her pulse point and she shuddered, spasming around his finger and he inserted another, hissing in appreciation as she grew even wetter, grinding her ass harder against him.

“Jesus, Sweetheart-” Bucky rasped, hardly able to form the words. Slowly, he stared to fuck her with his fingers, increasing his pace rapidly as Levi responded feverishly and he cupped and massaged her breasts, pinching her nipples as he continued to nip and suck and kiss at her neck, blood rushing through his veins as she writhed against him, making the most delicious little whimpers as he strummed her body white hot. His cock ground painfully against her ass, the fabric separating them growing damp with precum but he wanted to, no, he needed to feel her, hear her, see her come first; feel her gush around his fingers, her walls quaking; experience the secondary joy of her release and know he did this, he brought her to the edge like this and felt her tumble off into ecstasy secure in his arms.

Levi’s voice broke as she cried his name, her orgasm crashing over her but Bucky didn’t let up, his fingers slurping obscenely in and out and he could almost follow her over the cliff based just on that sensation alone but he suddenly needed to be inside her, needed to feel her tight around him and he pushed her forwards, away from him. Levi landed on her hands and knees, arching her spine as she understood immediately what Bucky was doing, looking back over her shoulder at him with lust-darkened eyes.

Shoving his sweats down just enough to free himself, Bucky stroked himself roughly a few times, a low, hungry growl in his chest. Desperate to be sheathed in her finally, he simply yanked her underwear to the side then drove into her heat with a groan, eyes rolling back in his head.

Levi matched his groan, hips driving back to meet him, take him impossibly deeper. Dropping her face to the mattress, her spine arched, the angle changing, and Bucky dropped his head back, rolling it between his shoulders as he fought not to explode right away.

“Fuck, baby.” He gritted, hands gripping her hips in a way that had to be painful if they weren’t already past mortal sensations and rocketing towards a whole new galaxy of ecstasy. He slammed inside her, thrusts almost violent and Levi threw it right back, rolling back to meet each snap so he pounded deeper than he ever had before, filling her impossibly deep, possessing her in every sense of the word and then Levi was crying out again, fingers clawing into the bedding as her second climax stole her breath.

Bucky followed her, surrendering to his release with a roar, spilling his seed in thick ropes inside her, head thrown back, face twisted and eyes squeezed shut in the most brutally beautiful pain before his body gave out and he sagged forwards, utterly spent, his forehead resting on Levi’s sweat-gleaming back as he panted for breath, body shuddering and clenching with residual aftershocks, the tail-end of easily the most visceral and powerful orgasm he had ever experienced; white-hot bliss until he hadn’t known where he ended and Levi began.

Withdrawing from her body, chest heaving, Bucky collapsed to the mattress, and Levi followed, sinking bonelessly next to him. He pulled her to his chest, clawing close as something akin to fear skittered through him, a deep and almost scary sense of vulnerability at just how profoundly and intensely they could connect. He felt almost raw, naked in every sense of the word, for they’d just stripped their skins for each other, diving headfirst into oblivion.

The sweetest poison, balm to his soul, Bucky would welcome a thousand deaths to feel this again, every time.

His eyelids fluttered, a languid sense of peace washing over him, and he barely registered Levi dragging a blanket over their sweat-slicked, tangled bodies before he gave into sleep.

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Levi giggled, holding the fork with the speared strawberry tantalizingly out of reach of Bucky’s questing mouth and popping it into her own, letting out a squeal between clenched teeth when Bucky dug his fingers into her side, tickling her mercilessly for her cheek.

Her thighs tightened around his waist as she sat on the counter and Bucky stood between her legs, his own plate of waffles and berries forgotten beside them as he tried to charm Levi into giving him pieces from her own. She threw her head back and shrieked laughter, writhing under Bucky’s attack and he laughed with her, carefree and all too ready to push inside her again, take her right here on the kitchen counter because, although he’d reached for her multiple times throughout last night, the main floor was not a place they’d made love yet, and Bucky was nothing if not thorough, intent on christening every flat surface of the house and utterly incapable of resisting the draw Levi had on him for anything longer than short breaks.

Levi waved another berry at him, the fruit shivering on the fork as she squirmed and Bucky let up on his tickling, hands still pressed to her sides and eyed her, trying to decide if she was serious this time or was just begging for more punishment.

A key jiggled in the front door then, a moment later, it slammed open and heavy footsteps strode through. Steve poked his head around the corner, hair sticking up in all directions, telling of his own nocturnal adventures.

“Morning, kids.” He chirped merrily, eyes dancing with mischief as he took in the scene. Levi was currently wearing Bucky’s t-shirt and a pair of his boxers, while Bucky had only managed sweatpants again, and there was no confusion as to what they had been doing, and what they were fully on their way to doing again.

“My eyes!” He continued, throwing his head back and mimicking the wailing face emoji. Levi chucked a piece of waffle at him as she pulled Bucky securely to her, pressing his all-too-willing-to-comply face into curve of her neck and wrapping her arms around him, as if sheltering him from the big, bad jock that had just lumbered in.

“Go upstairs, leave us alone!” Levi exclaimed, but there was no real malice in her tone, matching Steve’s drama department worthy wail of just moments earlier and both twins dissolved into fits of giggles as Steve wandered the rest of the way in, inspecting Bucky’s plate lying forgotten beside them.

“Save any waffles for me?”

“Piss off.” Levi offered sweetly and Bucky finally raised his head from her throat, unable to stop a wide grin at the twin’s antics. Their dynamic, their relationship was a treat to watch; they had each other’s backs through everything, but could also laugh at each other, playfight over almost anything. If Brock’s very existence had had any meaning or purpose, it had been to ensure that the twins were now and forever united, an unbreakable front to tackle all of life’s challenges.

Ignoring his sister’s warning, Steve grabbed the top waffle off Bucky’s plate, rolled it expertly into a large cigar shape and took a huge bite, leaning against the nearby butcher-block island and chewing noisily, a dollop of whipped cream at the corner of his mouth that he, when Lev mimed wiping it off her own mouth, almost delicately dabbed off with his pinkie and studied for a beat before jamming into his mouth. “Any plans for today?”

Bucky shrugged, still cradled against Lev’s chest. He could spend all day right here and have no complaints whatsoever.

“Probably just chill in the backyard.” Levi answered. “Put on some music, float around the pool.”

“Cool,” Steve replied. “I was going to call Peggy over to do the same, can we share the yard?”

“Of course! Can you ask her to bring over that metallic polish she had on last weekend? She said I could use it.”

Steve nodded, mouth stuffed full as he pulled his phone from his jeans pocket and Bucky lifted his gaze to Levi’s, who raised a brow at the mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

“You have a bikini to match that polish?”

“Actually, I do. It’s the cutest little blush pink color.”

Cute was hardly the word Bucky would pick to describe Lev in a bikini but that was neither here nor there.

“Did you bring trunks?” Lev asked. “Not that I wouldn’t mind you wearing nothing at all.”

“I can’t go naked? The Europeans do.” Bucky teased.

“I wouldn’t mind, but the neighbors might. You’d give old Martha a heart attack.”

“Her own fault for snooping.” Steve replied, putting his phone away with a grin. “And I think you cured her of that last month when you pranced around bare-assed out there. I haven’t seen her out on her deck since, and she planted all those trees-”

“Naked?!”

“Nothing but a smile.” Steve chuckled. “And she did the Floss, too. Waved at the old biddy like they were best friends, big grin on her face. Lev, not Martha.”

Bucky closed his eyes, shaking his head. Of course, his girl would do something like that, that was one of the reasons he loved her so much, she could roll with anything.

“See? I’m safe.” Bucky chirped, grinning winningly at Lev, who just rolled her eyes.

“No nudity.” She declared. “If I have to wear something, you do too.”

“Party pooper.” Bucky grumbled lightly.

“I’ll make it up to you later.”

“I look forward to it.” Bucky whispered, burrowing his face back into her throat.

Later, they crowded around the pool; Lev and Peggy stretched out on lounge chairs and painting swathes of pearly pink on each other’s toenails while Steve and Bucky sat at the pool’s edge, feet dragging in the water, hands stretched behind them to lean back, heads tilted to the sun and eyes closed behind dark sunglasses as music throbbed from the nearby Bluetooth speaker.

Leaning back and lifting her foot to inspect Peggy’s work, Lev grinned and fell back against the lounge chair, pulling her sunglasses from the top of her head to cover her eyes. Bucky rolled his head towards her, eyeing her half-naked body, clad in the ‘cute’ blush pink bikini that looked like absolute sin on her and considered disturbing his near-perfect peace to stand and move to her side. She’d probably giggle and push him away, shrieking at him to not wreck her wet nails, and the squirming of her body against his would only inflame the constant fire he had for her, resulting in some NSFW moments that would probably drive the other couple into the house or earn him a punch in the mouth from Steve.

“Bucky?” Lev called quietly, lifting her glasses to fix him with her hypnotising violet eyes.

“Yeah, baby?” He murmured, lips curling into a smile. Unseen beside him, Steve opened his eyes and turned his head to watch the exchange. While surprisingly chill about the ‘adult’ side of Lev and Bucky’s relationship, and hardly able to point fingers when he himself could hardly keep from storming Peggy at every turn, he nonetheless wasn’t looking for an anatomy lesson featuring his wombmate right now.

“Put some lotion on my back?”

“Of course.” He stood, stretching his back, groaning at a few pops then strolled to her side. Lev rolled onto her stomach, careful of where she placed her feet to protect her still tacky nails and held out the bottle for him to take.

There was room to sit at either of her sides, but the glint in Lev’s eyes invited him otherwise and Bucky grinned down at her as he swung a leg over, straddling her hips and settling gently down on the backs of her thighs. From here he could play her ass cheeks like bongo drums or reach up to wrap his hand into her hair and pull her head back as he pushed slowly…. Or, you know, keep it PG and just rub lotion on her back.

Gently untying the back of her top, he tucked the strings on either side of her ribcage and squirted some lotion onto his palm, rubbing it between his hands to warm it. The tan lines across Lev’s back called to him as he began to massage the lotion in and Lev moaned quietly under her breath, stretching languidly under him and making him bite back his own groan as her ass brushed against his semi.

She moaned louder as Bucky dug deeper, massaging the knots in her muscles, moving in long, powerful strokes up and down her spine, branching out over the backs of her shoulders like wings, fingers digging into the flesh.

“Don’t stop,” she murmured, eyes falling shut.

Bucky leaned forwards, using the cover of his body over Lev’s to hide the sight of his fingers reaching down and tracing in between her thighs, past the edge of her bikini and brushing the edge of her folds. “I’m going to wreck you later.” He promised, his voice low, tongue dipping into her ear as he growled; pushing one finger inside her, cock twitching in his boardshorts as she squirmed beneath him. Withdrawing his finger, he made sure Lev was watching as he popped it into his mouth and sucked it clean, hooded eyes dark and vowing carnal, primal bliss.

“And the student surpasses the teacher.” She grinned.

**************************************************************************

Four years later

“To Levi.” Bucky announced, grin splitting his face as he raised his glass.

Levi smiled, leaning back into his chest from her seat between his thighs and raised her own glass. “To you, Bucky. For always supporting me.” Turning her head, she pressed a kiss to his underside of his jaw, smiling when he groaned, low in his chest.

“To both of you.” Steve asserted, eyeing them both before allowing his own huge smile. “It’s been a long haul.”

“Hear, hear.” Bucky whispered, lips tickling the shell of Lev’s ear, making her giggle.

“So? How does it feel?” Peggy asked, sipping her wine. “All this work and sacrifice?”

Lev met Bucky’s eyes again, their heads turned to face each other. “It feels amazing.” Lev answered, looking back forwards towards her brother and Peggy.

Five years of hard work, five years of sacrifice and now Levi had achieved her goal, her architectural dream. Accelerated courses and countless hours of extra effort had brought her here, years ahead of her peers and head-hunted to one of the best firms in the world. Through it all, Bucky had been there, once her tutor, now her forever.

“And the wedding?” Peggy continued, glancing down at the ring glittering on Lev’s finger.

“Still small, just close family.” Bucky replied, nuzzling into Lev’s hair. “You guys, my mom and sisters, Ann and Bruce. The reception back here before we fly out.”

A new smirk lit up the twin’s face as they shared a look. Their mom had rebounded from Brock surprisingly well and, when she had introduced them to her newest beau three years ago at Christmas, even the gregarious Steve had been gobsmacked to see it was their old science teacher, Mr. Banner. A simple trip to City Hall had sealed that relationship last year and, at Lev’s graduation ceremony earlier today, she’d even introduced him to her professors’ as ‘Dad’.

“And the new house?”

A shared exhale and humored grimace. “Renovations underway.” Bucky replied wryly.

“But it’s a real, genuine farmhouse.” Lev added, eyes sparkling. “With a porch swing and a Widow’s Walk and stained glass and giant old trees for a tire swing. A huge old barn and wood plank fences-”

“And rooms needing painting and carpets that need to be torn out-”

“Because the hardwood underneath is amazing.”

“And all the time in the world to do it while you work.” Bucky finished, the smile in his eyes genuine and beaming, eyes locked with Lev’s. For a beat they stayed lost in each other, until Steve cleared his throat before sipping noisily at his wine to remind them that they weren’t the only people in the room, something that still happened with heartwarming regularity.

For now, Bucky’s career path was not as set and luminous as Lev’s, but it only seemed to bother him. Last night, when he’d lamented the fact, Lev had rolled from her side of the bed and straddled his hips, cradling his face with startling determination. Only the seriousness of her expression kept him from giving into the heavenly sensation of her pressed against him, but his heart had started racing all the same.

“You’ve taken care of other people for years.” She stated. “First your mom and sisters, then me. You saved me, Bucky; you might not think it, but you did. Asking you to tutor me was the best decision I’ve ever made. You kept me grounded when all Brock made me want to do was give up, and you were there for me after, when everything was new and possible and scary as hell. Whatever I have now, I owe to you. Let me take care of things for awhile, please baby.”

He could deny her nothing and hearing her heartfelt words had sealed something inside his chest he hadn’t even realized until then was cracked, binding them together more solidly than the Earth itself.

“So, Lev”, Peggy chirped, a ‘don’t think you can get anything past me’ gleam in her eyes. “You going to tell us why you’re drinking grape juice instead of wine?”

Lev sputtered, the sip she’d been in the process of taking threatening to spray across the table. “What?” She mumbled.

“Oh, come on.” Peggy continued, flashing a grin up at Steve before returning piercing eyes to the other couple. “You think I didn’t notice? We’ve got two already, I know the signs.”

Lev glanced at Bucky. The gig is up, her eyes said.

Steve and Peggy had been busy in the last five years, getting married while still in school in a charming and small ceremony with Lev and Bucky at their sides and rapidly producing two little tow-headed babies. Amelia had come first, the apple of her daddy’s eye, born the day after he’d been the first line draft pick of the year; while Thomas had made his grand entrance a week before Steve had led his team to their first Championship under his leadership, the proud new-father gleam in his eyes visible in every TV interview that came after. The People Magazine spread had been particularly adorable, Amelia cuddled close to her daddy while he gazed lovingly down at his family, newborn Thomas content in Peggy’s arms. Both little munchkins were already slated to be part of the wedding, a curly-haired flower girl and toddling ring-bearer.

“When are you due?” Steve added, watching Bucky nuzzle his face into Lev’s hair with a proud smile he remembered gracing his own face when they had been announcing their own news.

“We just found out this week.” Lev replied quietly.

“So next summer then.”

“Yep.” Bucky’s reply was muffled by Lev’s hair and she giggled as he mumbled something further in her ear.

“The house should be done by then.” Steve continued, trying to prod his future brother in law to remain part of the conversation when it was obvious he was falling down his favourite rabbit hole.

“Hopefully.” Bucky reluctantly pulled his attention away from whatever he was doing to Lev’s throat, a new smile pulling at his lips as he thought about it, then chuckled wryly. “The nursery anyway.”

“Better prepare for doubles.” Steve grinned, loving the sudden startled widening of his friend’s eyes. “Lev’s a twin, odds are you’re going to have them too.”

The mock horror in his eyes was tempered by the smile he couldn’t stop from forming and Lev laughed out loud, pulling her lover down for a kiss on the cheek. “I didn’t even think of that!” She crowed. “Twins, baby! What do you think?”

To be perfectly honest, Bucky couldn’t care less if Lev gave birth to Damien himself, as long as he got to be by her side through it all; they could cower together in their newly renovated farmhouse while the little darling raged outside but the thought of two little products of their love for each other made real warmed a special place in his heart and he was not entirely surprised to feel the prick of tears in his eyes.

“That’s perfect, doll.” He murmured, nuzzling close again, ready for whatever life had in store for them.

[vicunaburger]

Admittedly, I’m Hard to See

Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical Chapters: 2/? Pairing: Beetlejuice x OC (Holidae) The Players: Beetlejuice, Lydia Deetz, Holidae Bell Word Count: 1,679 Warnings: M for Language

Notes: Gettin’ spooky up in here.

In Which Odd Happenings Occur

It took several hours of the women to fully unpack the truck and start to settle in their respective space in the house. Lydia had given Holidae the guest room next to her own bedroom on the second floor, which happened to be nearest the steps to the attic. A situation that was not Lydia's original intention, but Delia had commandeered the other bedroom to store her art pieces while she and Charles were away. Holidae wasn't the sort of person go to poking around by herself, so there wasn't a danger of her discovering the secrets lurking around the home. However, there was a zero percent chance that the resident ghost would extend the same courtesy to her friend's privacy.

The proximity of the new breather to his humble abode did not escape Beetlejuice's attention. A nagging little thought in the back of his mind warned him that this might some sort of test set up by Lydia to see how well-behaved he could be with such an opportunity.

Fuck that, he thought, not as though she could do much in retaliation.

The specter watched the girls throughout the move-in process, hovering just out of sight to not alert Lydia to his presence. One glance from her and there was good chance he would be sent back to cool off in the Neitherworld before you could say sandworm.

No, he had to stay inconspicuous, which was a struggle for the extroverted bioexorcist truth be told. He followed Holidae up the stairs to her room, picking occasionally at her sweater to make her pause and glance around to look for the stray nail or some other object she might have caught it on. At one point, her gaze had landed right on his face, her dull-green eyes staring right into his molten gold.

It made him pause, thinking that he had pushed her a little too far and the jig was up on his playtime. After a few moments, she continued her trek up the stairs, heading into her bedroom. Beetlejuice was safe, for now. The benefit to such a position was that it allowed him a very intimate look at the new house guest without her freaking out.

She was pale as Lyds; and between the smudged eye makeup and dark circles she gave the impression she hadn't slept in a good several years. Insomniacs were the best when it came to frightening breathers. Fish in a barrel. Not that he wouldn't have appreciated a harder challenge, but hey, everyone likes to have a little break now and again.

Holidae's lips were full - matching her overall face shape - but noticeably bitten. Nerves? Bad habit? Things that he definitely kept tabs on to create the perfect storm of scares for the unsuspecting breather? Yes.

Beetlejuice busied himself with being nosy while Holidae haphazardly unpacked her suitcases, moving the clothes into a nearby dresser under the window. He frowned at the lack of frilly lingerie and other scandalous things one might hide away out of embarrassment. Nothing obscene to gossip with Lydia about, how disappointing.

The only thing worth noting were the copious number of notebooks and accounting ledgers.

What was she, a nerd?

While she was distracted with the dresser, he caused one of the ledgers to "accidentally" flutter open to a random page. They were filled with detailed lists and monetary amounts; a few random acronyms he couldn't identify in the side margins. After a moment, it dawned on him that the lists were titles of Lydia's photographs and art pieces.

"Oh God/Satan, don't tell me she's an accountant." The ghost ran a hand through his hair, the green fading into a more solemn blue tone.

Lydia had told him about the growing number of followers who frequented her art shows in the human world; to which he would always offer himself up as the next model for her studies. For some reason she always turned down his offer, stating that it would be difficult to photograph a ghost that wouldn't appear on film.

Thoroughly dejected after yet another rejected, Beetlejuice decided to be a brat and take a chunk of her photographs down into the Neitherworld with him. Turns out, human paraphernalia was a hot ticket item to all the ghouls and demons down there, and he was able to make a quick'n'dirty profit off Lydia's work. Sure, he kept the profits for himself, since he was the one who had the brilliant idea in the first place.

It was only fair.

Holidae must do the same thing for Lydia topside, he surmised, although by the shabby state of her wardrobe and sparse furniture... it wasn't a profitable venture for her. Did she not know that sellers get at least a 75% cut of all deals? What do they teach breathers up here anyway?

"Gonna have to teach you the fine art of the deal, girly," Beetlejuice muttered, floating over to drape himself over the dresser. "Be happy to lend you my expertise on a whole bunch of topics."

The woman paused in folding her clothes into the dresser, looking around the room with a sour expression. She could have sworn she heard someone talking, but Lydia had gone back downstairs not too long ago. A chill up her spine made her shiver; not having noticed the temperature of the room dropping sharply.

The ghost above her grinned from ear to ear, "C'mon, I know you're not scared already, are you? I haven't even done anything. So sensitive, huh?"

Holidae hugged the sweater she had been folding against her chest tightly, her mouth curving into a pout. A faint buzzing sound... like someone mumbling constantly from several rooms away.

"It's an old house, probably fried wiring buzzing." Holidae reasoned with herself, continuing her task and closing the dresser drawer. "Maybe an animal got into the walls at some point; it's an old house, probably needs new insulation. ...or some sort of eldritch horror beckoning me into the deep abyss through some portal in my closet."

Beetlejuice snorted with a cackle, "You have no idea how accurate you are, baby doll. Oh boy, I have got to get us better acquainted."

"Lydia?" Holidae stood up straight, rubbing her arms to generate some heat. "Are you trying to talk to me?"

Soft footfalls were heard coming up the staircase, and soon Lydia's head popped into view from the doorway. She opened her mouth to reply, but what came out was a choked gasp.

Lydia could clearly see Beetlejuice balanced on the dresser beside Holidae, his expression like a snake toying with a mouse. When he noticed his bed friend staring at him, he waved enthusiastically, his hair turning a bright, luminescent green. Her jaw worked up and down like a gaping fish, her brain furiously scrambling to process the scene.

"Babes! Aren't you going to introduce me to your breather buddy?" He vanished and then reappeared on Holidae's bed, lounging like a great cat. "Teach her the magic words and we'll have the best housewarming party."

Holidae noticed Lydia's distressed expression, "Lyddy! What happened?"

"Nothing!" The tone was so high pitched it could cut glass, "You... startled me and I ran up here. I thought you like, fell or something."

Her eyes kept nervously flicking over to the bed, trying to ignore the ghost rolled around on the sheets like a child.

"Laaaaaaaame. Better come up with something quick before she gets suspicious." Beetlejuice taunted her.

"I meant the house makes things sound weird, so I rushed up," Lydia placed a hand on her hip, "Haunted and all that."

Holidae's eyebrows furrowed, "Right. So, the buzzing noise is a portal to another dimension, yeah? Just want to make sure none of my clothes get stretched out by demons trying them on."

Lydia laughed, "Exactly. Demons aren't exactly known for being petite."

"I resemble that remark." Beetlejuice hissed, sitting up on the bed and smoothing out his striped suit.

"Good to know." Holidae cleared her throat, "Oh, hey, mind if I snag some extra blankets? You weren't kidding about the drafts in here."

"Third door to the left," Lydia gestured out into the hallway, moving aside as the other woman moved past her.

As soon as they were alone, Lydia marched over and grabbed Beetlejuice by his tie, putting them nose to nose with each other. The childish attitude he had was completely dropped, replaced by with a much more placating tone.

"Now now, babes, I wasn't bothering her that much. Just wanted to know what was going on since you hadn't come and said hello yet." He held up his hands in a surrendering gesture. "How was I supposed to know she would be thoroughly engrossed by my humble presence."

"Nothing about you is humble, BJ." The deadpanned tone said it all. "What did I say about Holidae?"

There was a pause, "...that when there's a school holiday you get to come visit longer?"

"Beetlejuice," Lydia let go of his tie, running a hand over her face in anguish. "No."

Beetlejuice winced at the use of his full name, "Okay, okay... I know. Don't bother her. But Lyds, she looked right at me. She knows I'm around! You're not gonna deny me the chance to be seen, are you?! You were the last human in aaaaages that could see me first thing."

As much as she wanted to stay angry, to say him name three times and banish him for a while as punishment for breaking her rules, she couldn't refuse his plea. It was true what he said: she had been the first living person to notice him in a long time. To end his invisibility. If Holidae could already feel him around... maybe it was better to treat the subject like a band aid and rip it off quickly.

With a heavy sigh, she rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Give me some time to ease her into the idea."

"That's why you're my best bestest friend, babes." He loosened his tie, vanishing from the room.