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IVE BEEN WAITING ALL YEAR TO POST THIS YOU DONT EVEN KNOW

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Soft, sweet snuggles at the Fallen Oaks Farms

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(via)

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baby_blue_bunnies

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bunnies in strawberry dress 🍓 x

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Bunnies with flower crowns ♡

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Fairy bunnies 🐰

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We have created characters and animated them in the dimension of depth, revealing through them to our perturbed world that the things we have in common far outnumber and outweigh those that divide us. -Walt Disney

HAPPY ANIMATION DAY!!!  ♥

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ig credit: vintagelygrace

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HELLO!! I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH!

i absolutely love your blog. there's nothing on toonjuice and i swear i jumped in joy when i found out you write for him!! 😭😭can you do toonjuice with a depressed and unemployed reader? sorry.. life is hard. you dont need to write this if not comfortable!

dead weight

WARNING: Depression, self-loathing, brief mention of suicidal thoughts, dark themes, hurt/comfort

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Depressed! Reader

NOTE: Thank you so much for your nice words and I could NOT agree more!! Also, I get what you're saying, and I feel you. I hope this hits the right spot for you. Stay strong. <3 This can also be seen as completely platonic!

SUMMARY: You lean on Beetlejuice, your only friend, as the world seems to move without you. Beetlejuice would do anything to bring back your smile, maybe the dead can revive the part of yourself that you've lost.

The curtains are drawn, but you can still feel the day's light trying to creep in. Stupid light. Stupid sun. It’s out there, working for people who can get up, get dressed, and just function. Meanwhile, you’re a mess on the couch, in the same pajamas you’ve worn for days, staring at the same wall like it’s going to offer you any answers. It doesn’t. All it does is stare back, mocking you with its blandness.

You haven’t worked in months. God, has it been months? You stopped counting after the first rejection email. Now, you don’t even try. Why bother when you’re just going to be another disappointment on someone’s radar? The kind of person that drags the world down by just existing. Your stomach growls, but you ignore it. Eating feels like too much effort right now. So does moving, breathing, being.

And then, he shows up. Like he always does.

“Yo, babes!” Beetlejuice’s voice cuts through the silence, way too loud for the stillness you’ve wrapped myself in. He doesn’t need an invitation, phasing through the ceiling, hovering upside-down like gravity’s just another suggestion he can ignore. "What’s a ghost gotta do to get a smile around here, huh?"

You grunt, turning your face deeper into the cushion. “Not in the mood.”

“Aww, come on, you’re always in the mood for me.” He flips, landing on the coffee table like he owns it, his mismatched suit just as chaotic as his energy. Beetlejuice is the only one who bothers showing up anymore, and you hate how much you need that. How much you need him.

“I’m serious, Beej,” You mutter, sinking deeper into the couch. “I’m... tired.”

It’s not the first time you’ve said it, and he knows what you mean. Tired. As if being tired could explain the weight pressing down on you, suffocating you with the endless reminder that you’re useless. The world spins on, and you’re stuck in this black hole, getting smaller by the second.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, and that’s almost worse than the constant jokes. Beetlejuice—who can’t ever shut up—shuts up. His hand hovers near your shoulder, fingers twitching like he wants to reach out but isn't sure how to. His eyes, usually full of mischief, soften just a bit, like maybe he gets it more than you give him credit for.

“Look, babes,” he starts, but his voice lacks the bite it usually has. “I know it’s... dark in there.” He waves vaguely toward your head, though it feels like he’s gesturing to your whole being. “But you gotta give me something to work with! You can’t just... stay like this.”

You huff out a weak laugh, bitter and cracked. “Like I have a choice.”

He leans down, eye level now, his face inches from yours. “You do have a choice. I’m here, ain’t I? You got ol’ BJ at your beck and call. You know I’d do anything for ya.” His grin is wide, but it feels less... sharp this time. Like he’s not just saying it to get a reaction.

You know he means it. And that’s what kills you.

He’s Beetlejuice. He’s dead. He can do whatever he wants, but you? You’re stuck here, in this rotting body, feeling too much and too little all at once. You don’t hate him, you hate how free he is, how alive he is even though he’s not. And here you are, breathing, but what’s the point? You don’t even feel human anymore.

“Why do you even bother?” The words slip out before you can stop them. “I’m nothing. I’m just... dead weight.”

His smile falters, but only for a second. “That’s where you’re wrong, babes.” He leans in closer, lowering his voice like he’s telling me some great secret. “I know dead weight. Trust me. And you? You’re not it.”

You roll your eyes, pulling the blanket tighter around myself. “Feels like it.”

“Well, stop feeling then!” He stands up, throwing his arms out dramatically. “Don’t cha’ get it? You think too much! And look where that’s gotten ya—stuck here, wasting away when you could be out there, hangin' out with me! Imagine the fun we’d have!”

His words roll over you like fog, unable to penetrate the thick gloom that’s taken root inside. You want to believe him. You want to be like him. “Alive” in a way that matters. But the envy in your chest twists, ugly and relentless, whispering that you’ll never be that. You’ll never be free like he is.

“I just... I don’t know how.” The admission comes out small, almost swallowed by the weight of everything you can’t say.

Beetlejuice kneels again, this time resting his chin on his hand, looking at you with something resembling... patience? No, that’s not right. But whatever it is, it’s softer than usual. “Then let me teach ya. Let me show you how to make this nasty world fun again.”

You glance up at him, your eyes meeting his, and for a split second, you let yourself hope. Just a flicker of it, like a candle’s flame that’s barely holding on.

“What if I can’t?”

He grins wide, leaning in until his nose nearly touches yours. “Then I’ll keep trying until you can!”

It’s not some grand declaration of love or the kind of comfort people usually offer. But it’s Beetlejuice, and it’s all you’ve got.

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Matthew Broderick in Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)

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