#*insert blue screen noise here*

[caspianthefriendlyqueer]

Be Me: Middle child, AFAB, family history of many medical conditions and mental illness's Be born and know fairly early you're dyslexic, with a slight speech impediment that improves over the years but still shows it's ugly head when stressed//overwhelemed/basically any high stress situation tbh and a sprinkle of clinical depression Later Learn you were born with: ADHD and pansexual Even later realize you're trans and demisexual and even polyamorous AND.EVEN.LATER. Learn Type 2 diabetes ALSO RUNS IN YOUR FAMILY, and get slapped with a PCOS (Polycystic ovary syndrome) diagnosis and a prediabetes diagnosis on the same day, just a few days before Halloween AND ALSO FINALLY ACCEPT YOU ALSO HAVE THE TISM AFTER YEARS OF LYING TO YOURSELF Me, 23, looking back: Whatever God(s) I pissed off.....I'm sorry Realize right away that you're Canadian and you over apologize

[impale-me-radio-daddy]

The Lookalike

☒ Summary: The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument. “No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.” You awaken in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you immediately fall into the clutches of his nemesis. 

☒ Warnings: hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, crying!reader, they/them pronouns used, explicit content, reader is in Hell for a reason, Valentino, canon typical scenarios.

☒ Author's note: This is now a complete series! Part I Part2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 6 BONUS SCENE Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument.

“What the fuck, Val? You can’t just come in here and dump a fucking body on my fucking floor. Christ.” The first voice was a man’s, the intonation weary rather than angry. He walked towards you, each footstep reverberating through the floor and through your tender skull. “Look, I don’t want to be in the same room with you right now.”

“This isn’t a body.” The second man spoke from behind you, and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes. Dimly, you took stock of your situation. You were on the floor. Your head hurt. Your body felt weird.

“One of your sluts, then. I don’t fucking care, just get it out of here.”

“No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.”

No, your body wasn’t just painful, but really weird, like all of your joints weren’t quite where you remembered them. You were pretty sure your ears were in the wrong place. What had happened?

“Oh, fuck you, Val. I don’t have a-” The man in front of you stopped mid sentence, an audible intake of breath. “Oh. Oh, fuck. What the fuck, Val?”

The second man made a pleased noise deep in his throat, and laughed. “See? I know what you really want.”

“Fuck me, that’s, uh, some resemblance.” The first man’s voice slowed, tone shifting from annoyance to something closer to awe. He moved closer, and you felt the air shift as he crouched next to you, getting a closer look. “Where did you get them?”

“We had some idiots posted near the east side boundary who were meant to look out for Alastor. This one was just lying in the street. Wrong color, but you know the saying- life gives you lemons, you see how many you can insert into one slut.”

“Fucking hell.” The first man leaned in closer, and you squinted open your eyes. Blue was most of what you could see. Glowing blue. He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you gave an involuntary sound, a static crackle and a whine like a capacitor with a faulty mount. “Oh fuck, they even sound like him! Val!”

“Whatever you say, snookums.” Val exhaled again, the air moving as he walked away. “Pheremones on the cabinet if you need them, you can thank me when you’re done with your new toy.”

“Where am I?” you asked, your voice feeling deeply unfamiliar, a coarse, crackling edge to it. Groggily, you lifted your head, still squinting. The man who had stayed was glowing blue, and you squinted at him uneasily, your eyes not quite working as you expected. Where were your glasses? “Who are you?”

“Oh, fuck, that voice is so fucking close. This is so great. Hey, can you look at me real quick?” A blue hand caught the bottom of your chin, guiding your head, and you found yourself staring into a rectangle of blue. “Can you say I’m sorry Vox?”

“Who’s Vox?” you asked, genuinely puzzled. “Why are you a television?”

“Ohh fuck.” The man let your chin drop, withdrawing his touch. “You really are new here, aren’t you? Fucking Val.” He sighed, and as your eyes adjusted further, you could see his face was digital, a pattern dancing across the screen. “Alright, first off, I’m Vox. Let’s get you up.”

His hand around your forearm, Vox helped you to your feet. Which you didn’t have. You had hooves. You looked away, feeling faintly nauseous, and nearly tripped as soon as you were standing, only Vox’s arm holding you up. You made another sound of distress, a static whine.

“Hey, hey.” Vox’s tone shifted again, from his previous intense interest in you to something softer. “You’ll be okay. Let’s get you to the bed.”

Stumbling, you made it to the bed, and Vox lowered you carefully onto the sheets. They were a dark blue, the thread count so high they were almost silky to the touch.

You pulled your legs up onto the bed and started feeling the length of them with your fingers, the familiar knee to the unfamiliar cleft of the hoof, your panic continuing to rise. “What’s happening to me? Is this even real?”

“Fuck me that’s hot,” breathed Vox, his gaze on your hooves for a moment before he tore it away. He sat beside you, hesitating before placing a hand on your shoulder. “Yes, this is real. Everyone goes through this, y’know. I’m a fuckin-” he gestured to his face. “You get used to it.”

Alarm flooded your body. Used to this? With your legs too long, and your ears- and whatever the fuck was growing out of the top of your head- you didn’t even want to think about that. Tears welled up hot in your eyes, and you swallowed down a sob, something that came out sounding like the pop of a small capacitor bursting.

Vox watched you with a hungry fascination. “Hey,” he said, reaching across to brush the wetness from your cheeks. “It’s hard. Fuck, I know it’s hard. Let me take care of you, okay? I can take care of you.” His arm snaked around your shoulders, and you found yourself pressed against Vox’s chest, his other hand a gentle pressure at the small of your back. Vox smelled faintly of hot plastic and windex, but his body was warm, and welcoming, and you nuzzled into his collar as the tears came, half static sobs that shook from your diaphragm up through your shoulders.

“Hey, baby deer, it’ll be okay.” Vox’s palm smoothed your back, rubbing slow circles over your shoulderblades as you cried. “I’ll take good care of you, you’ll see.” His claws went to your collar, undoing the top button of your shirt with thumb and forefinger.

You looked down, surprised, as Vox undid the second button. “What are you-”

You paused, staring into his eyes as you considered your situation. The other guy had dragged you here as a gift. Vox clearly wanted sex. He was warm and his hands were deft, and you were all alone in a strange new place. You had one piece of leverage, and that was your resemblance to whoever this Alastor guy was. Your best bet, realistically, was to play dumb, spread your legs, and negotiate once you had a better grasp of the situation. Or murder him in his sleep, either worked. If you started asking too many questions you risked Vox realizing you had a brain.

“What are you thinking?” Vox asked, hands paused over the third button of your shirt.

What was the dumbest, sluttiest answer you could give to that? You thought fast, improvising. “How do I kiss you?” you asked, blinking away tears. “I mean, can you kiss-”

Vox gave a toothy, slightly superior grin. “Oh, that? C’mere.” Saying that, he put his hand on the back of your head, and pulled you close. Your nose nearly touching the screen, you could feel the heat of him. He was bright so you closed your eyes, your lips pressing against the flatness. And then. Lips. A curve in the glass, and an opening. He probed his tongue against your lips, and you opened your mouth for him, letting him inside. The feel of his tongue was like the surface of the screen but more intense, a throbbing electrical signal as it twined against yours. His tongue was also huge, large enough to fill your mouth and extend down your throat, though Vox didn’t push, letting it instead extend between you, the length dripping with saliva. He kept one hand in your hair, the other on your back, and you found yourself crawling into his lap, sitting astride his thighs as you kissed. Your whole body was unfamiliar, but arousal took the edge off, a pulse that ran through your core and-

“Oh-” you breathed, breaking the kiss, becoming aware of the unfamiliar sensation in your own pants. An aching tightness and a pulsing slickness.

Vox withdrew his tongue, his expression one of concern. His gaze followed yours down to your pants, and a triumphant look returned. “Yeah, I have that effect on people.”

“I- I think I have more parts than I used to.” You swallowed, the static in your voice crackling. “Is that normal? Does everyone-”

“Show me.” Vox’s response was instant, and when you hesitated, his hand went to your waist, encouraging. A little shimmying later and you were on your back, naked from the waist down, cock engorged, cunt dripping.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck me. Fucking hell.” Vox’s screen glitched slightly as he knelt between your knees, his stare frank and hungry. “That is. Oh, man.”

You closed your eyes, feeling yourself heat under his gaze, tears threatening to well in your eyes again. “Does it… it’s not weird?”

“You are perfect,” said Vox, with the absolute conviction of a man about to ruin his own pants. He crawled up over your body, pushing your unbuttoned shirt open, his touches on your skin almost reverent, the static field from his screen making the fine hairs on your chest stand on end. He kissed you again, giving a groan of satisfaction as his clothed erection pressed against yours. But being exposed like this, even under worshipful eyes, was hard, and you felt the telltale ache in your throat, your face wet with tears as Vox pulled back a little.

He didn’t scold you but hushed you, hand gentle on your damp cheek. “It’s okay, I’m gonna take such good care of you, you’ve got no idea. So you just relax and leave it to me.”

Slowly, you nodded, looking up at him. Crying hadn’t been your plan, but it seemed to be helping.

“Fuck, man, those eyes.” Vox made a noise, continuing under his breath as he undid his belt. “I didn’t know those eyes could look so trusting, fuck me. You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”

The tip of his cock was the same luminescent blue as his tongue, the shaft darker. He held your knees under his arms and pushed into you, his stare for you as greedy as it had been from the moment he first saw you, and as good as his word he was gentle with your body, the strokes sweet and slow. You knew intellectually that his gaze was for some guy who happened to look like you, but even so, it was hard not to get caught up in the moment, not with the attention he paid to you, optimizing the slow roll of his hips to hit the good spots inside you as his fist closed over your cock, pumping in time.

A soft mewl escaped you, the first sound you had made without the static filter, and Vox grinned. “See? I’m taking good care of you, aren’t I?”

“Y-yes,” you managed. The way he was fucking you made it difficult to form a coherent sentence.

“Say my name. Say Yes, Vox.”

“Y-ye-” you gave a whimper mid word as he hit the good spot inside you again, palm tightening around your shaft. You swallowed, and tried again. “Yes, Vox- ah!” You felt a twitch from his cock as you said his name, a line of broken pixels down his screen.

“Oh, fuck me, that’s the good stuff.” Vox made a staccato groan, fingers briefly tighter around your shaft. “Tell me you’re sorry, and you should have joined my team.”

“I’m s-s-” Sorry vanished into white noise as Vox set a harsher pace for the two of you, the roll of his hips becoming a snap, making your breath catch as your pleasure built. “I’m sorry Vox, it was a mistake, I should have joined you-”

“You’ve joined me now though, haven’t you? Gonna cum on my cock,” said Vox, with the absolute conviction of a man who could already feel the twitch of your cunt around him.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, feeling sensation crest. You hadn’t expected to cum, not in this unfamiliar body with this unfamiliar man, but the combination of his intensity and the dexterity with which he fucked you proved your undoing, sensation pulled tight through the core of you.

Vox’s expression was an indulgent leer. “That’s right, baby, let go,” he said, and you could only give soft animal and radio interference noises in response as he tipped you over your edge. Your orgasm was a hot white second of nothing but bliss that left your new body trembling and twitching. You came over your own stomach and chest, Vox giving a groan of his own when he saw it. “Fuck me that’s a fucking work of art.”

With you spent he worked on his own end, both hands on your hips, fucking a brisk rhythm into you that had you whimpering through your aftershocks.

“Alastor,” Vox groaned as he came, his eyes glazed as he looked down at you. His spasm into you was another new sensation, a staticky sort of frisson run through you, a shiver through your core and up your spine as his cock pulsed inside you.

You stayed in that position for a few moments, both of you still and panting, Vox not yet soft inside you, still holding your legs under his arms. Tentatively, your reached out and touched his forearm, and this stirred him out of his fugue. “Shit,” he said, blinking. “Right, uh, don’t move.” Gingerly, he withdrew from you, your cunt giving one last echo of a spasm in protest, and you watched him from the bed as he retreated into the bathroom, returning with a damp towel and tissues. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said.

Vox lay alongside you, wiping your cum from your chest with an attentiveness that was equal to any he had shown while fucking you. His strange, rectangular head was warm when the sides brushed against your skin, and you found yourself scooting a little closer to his body. You caught a glimpse of a pleased expression on his face before he pushed a finger under your chin and you tilted your head back so that he could clean the last of the cum from your collarbones and neck. True to his word, he was taking good care of you. Maybe you wouldn’t have to murder him in his sleep after all.

“So, who is Alastor, anyway?” you asked. Vox froze, but you pushed a little further. “I mean, if I’m pretending to be him, it’s better if I know, right?”

“Oh, man.” Vox gave a deep sigh. “Fuck, where do I even start?”

You nestled closer to him, tucking your head against his shoulder, and after a little awkward adjustment, he settled with his arms around you. He radiated heat, and you felt yourself relaxing at the physical contact, your heart rate and your breathing slowing. Tilting your head back, you brushed your nose against the outer frame of Vox’s head, and he gave a soft sigh of contentment. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you said, playing the ingénue.

“No, no, you’re right.” Vox tilted his head, his strange lips brushing against the tips of your ears and making you shiver. “It’s a long story, but I guess you should know.”

[obsessive-ego]

Pest of the west

Toonjuice x reader

Warning cringe

Gender neutral pronouns, pregnancy is mentioned once, also reader is forced to wear a dress

A shameless episode rewrite, swapping lydia for y/n and making it into a reader insert, I can not stress this enough, I just rewrote the episode to fit what I wanted, If this goes over well i might do more episode rewrites

Toonjuice takes you to the old west to goof off, and shit gets bad when an out law named bully the crud falls in love with you

"Come to the netherworld he said, it'll be fun he said, we'll go to the old west, you could use a good time, god" you grumbled to yourself, here you were handcuffed, wearing the ugliest, largest wedding dress you've ever seen in your life, hell, the size of the dress was the second reason stopping you from running from this cruel fate, the first being the groom. Not only were you handcuffed, your soon to be husband had a vice grip on your arm, a giant bull of a monster, Bully the Crud, you had no idea why this bastard wanted you, or why beetlejuice, scared out of his wits, ditched you to fend for yourself, all you knew was that you were screwed.

...

Finally, friday, it's been a long, rough work week. Between overtime, unreliable coworkers, and your bastard of a boss using you as a punching bag, you were beat.

Home again, you kick off your shoes, toss your bag and coat on the couch, and make the mental note to tidy up later. More importantly, you make your way to your bedroom, eager for the best part of the work day, changing out of your work clothes.

Passing the full-length mirror in your room, out of the corner of your eye, you notice the reflection wasn't yours.

"Hey BJ" you say casually, not bothering to look his way as you dig around your dresser for something more comfortable.

"It's about time you finally came around, babes,"

"Yeah, overtime again," you sigh

"Gross"

"Tell me about mister 'I don't have a job.'" You laugh, turning to the mirror to see that beetlejuice was gone.

"Huh," you mumble, scooping up your change of clothes. "Guess he had things to do?" You mumble.

Just then, you jump as the television in your bedroom turns on, loud static noises buzz from the speakers before an image settles on screen.

"Beetlejuice?"

Your television lights up showing a desert like scenery, with cactus, wired fences, cow skulls, and there was beetlejuice, dressed in cowboy attire

"That's my name, and cow poking is my game,Are you tired of the same old same old boring modern breather lifestyle?"

"Yeah" you chuckle

"Are ya in desperate need for a change of pace? Then mosey on down to the netherworld's wild west rude ranch, conveniently located in tombstone scareizona"

"There's a wild west in the netherworld? Like cowboys and stuff?" The ghoul had your full attention now, maybe sometime goofing off in the netherworld could do you some good, and the wild west would seem like something new and fun.

"Cowboys, cowghouls, just spout those magic b words, and we'll be ghost town bound"

what's the worst that could happen?

"Beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!" You shout in a hurry, and in a flash you were gone, your change of clothes now abandoned on the floor where you once stood.

...

And there you were in the scenery you saw on your television, sand, cactus, cow skulls, all the cliches of an old west movie. Your work clothes now replaced with more appropriate attire, a black cowboy hat, with a matching vest, a soft blue coloured puffy sleeved shirt, with a dusty blue neckerchief, black pants, with a big skull shaped belt, and of course some big black boots, you look liked you walked out of freddy pharkas frontier pharmacist, but appreciated the wardrobe change, it was always so fun when your clothes changed when beetlejuice dragged you into the netherworld, it was something you grew to look forward to with each trip. Your adoration for the new look was short-lived as you glanced around, unable to locate your friend.

"Beetlejuice?"

Did he ditch you?

"Oh bury me~ on the lone prairie~"

The ground next to you shakes before beetlejuice's head pops up from the dirt and unearths the rest of himself. "Welcome to the netherwest babes! I'm your ghost host with the most, should you have any questions, I'll be sure awnser them, as obscurely as possible" the ghoul proudly proclaims as he struts away from the grave he pulled himself out of.

"So this is the netherwest, it looks fun"

"Of course, babes, it has everything an old west motife should have, sun, sand, more cliches, then you can shake a stick at," the ghost hollers, shaking a stick at a cow skull

"Sounds great, beej," you chuckle, grabbing his arm, eager to see the sights, and get your mind off your work week.

"And dont you worry toots, if you're fretting on being bush wacked by bad guys, you're fretting for nothing"

"Oh? You some kind of old West hero?" You chucke, amused by his sudden confidence.

"You kidding, babes? Nobody messes with the pest of the west, I'll show ya what I mean later, " he cackles leading you into town

"Pest is right" you smile

...

The two of you were having a blast, beetlejuice eagerly showing you the sights, dragging you around town, you both were laughing and carrying on, you really needed this after such a shitty work week, you could always rely on beetlejuice to change your mood for the better.

It was all fun and games until your ghost, with the most, got kicked by a horse into a trough of dirty water. You were trying not to laugh at him as you helped him out.

"This has got to be the closest thing I've taken ta a bath in months," he grumbled

"It's surely an improvement." You laugh, hoisting your friend out of the water,

"Excuse me" an unfamiliar voice interrupts the two of you "allow me to introduce myself" standing in front of you was a man shaped like a dartboard and a tiny purple guy who's shirt was way too long for him.

"Howdy there stranger, The name's casualty, hop along casualty, I'm the mayor of this here tombstone and this is fester, we all in the market for a new sheriff, know anybody who'd be intrested in such a noble and HIGH paying job?"

"What-" was all you managed to get out before beetlejuice perked up

"DO I? Look no further, I am the slob for the job!" Beetlejuice lunges forward, eager to shake the mayor's hand before you pull him back

"Uh, beej? You a law man? Do you even know any laws?"

"Dont rob people"

"Oof, that's on me, I set the bar too low, but weren't we just here to have fun? And besides sheriff? Ya know, that's a lot of hard work, " the ghoul's one weakness. Maybe the mentioning of work would be enough for him to decline, and the two of you could go back to goofing off.

"WORK?! YUCK!" Beetlejuice shouts, you smile, there's the ghost you know and love more than you're willing to admit.

"Maybe the breather is right. Maybe the job would be too much for this tender foot to handle," casualty loudly proclaims as he and his sidekick walk away

"TENDER FOOT!?"

Great, now they had him. Beetlejuice was always a sucker for reverse psychology.

"Can a tender foot do this?" Beetlejuice proceeds to 'show off' his so-called slime shooting skills, loudly proclaiming he could shoot his hat before it touched the ground.

The hat went up into the air and beetlejuice went trigger happy, the ghost hit everything BUT the hat, you were smart enough to take cover, the ghost proved in a matter of seconds slime shooting was something he had to cross out on his resume, as he proceeded to cover the towns folk in slime.

But yet the mayor was still eager to hire him.

"Beetlejuice, come on, seriously? you're the worst guy for the job, you lie, cheat, steal, hell you're wanted in 5 different states, and 6 provinces, plus we just got here, why would anyone want you to be sheriff? There's obviously a catch, think about it, " you pleaded with him, your words fell of deaf ears, beetlejuice was too excited with all the glory that came with his new title.

"Beetlejuice, I wouldn't do this if I were you -" You try again only to be shoved aside by the mayor, who was more than ready to slap that star shaped badge on Beetlejuice's chest.

"Congratulations, son, you're exactly what we're looking for!"

"This is a joke, right?" You groaned with arm crossed annoyed over the whole situation.

The mayor dragged Beetlejuice to the group of townsfolk who gathered in the street to see what all the commotion was about.

"Attention, yall, I'd like ya to meet our new sheriff"

The crowd cheered, and Beetlejuice drank in all the attention and praise being showered upon him, while you just stood there trying to put two and two together.

"Oh, I forgot to mention, bully the crud will be here at high noon," the mayor starts

"And he's gonna do terrible, horrible things to you -" Fester continues

"Great," you grumble, there it was, so much for a fun time.

A bell gong rings through the town, and in a matter of seconds the towns folk were gone, leaving only you and Beetlejuice standing in the middle of the street, you pull your phone out of your pocket, though you had no service, it still worked like a clock, time in the netherworld worked differently, though it was evening when you left, it was day time when you arrived, your phone always acted accordingly, it was weird, and you didnt understand it, but you werent complaining.

"Noon," you say in a whisper, your stomach now turning with dread. What the hell did beetlejuice just sign up for?

The ground rumbles, you grab the ghoul's arm out of nervousness, and in a sandstorm cloud of dust a pig pulled carriage charges into tombstone, making a hasty hault in front of the two of you. The door swings open, and there stands what you can only assume is bully the crud, a big bull of a man, snarling and staring down the two of you.

"I'm looking for trouble," he growls

Beetlejuice snorts "never met 'em, you know anyone by that name babes?" The ghoul gives you a nudge. You shake your head

"That ain't what I ment, that was a figure of speech! Which one of the two of you are the sheriff?!"

You clamp your mouth shut, you werent gonna rat out your friend or take the blame. Beetlejuice did the same.

Bully huffs through his nose before grabbing you by your neckerchief

"You better spill -" in the rough movement of grabbing you, your hat got knocked off, your eyes no longer hidden in shadow.

"You better, better- why, arent you a pretty little thing" bully sets you down, and hands you your hat "why you ring my bell little meadow muffin, hows 'bout you give ol'bully a kiss" you cringe at his change in mood and utter out a "what?" More confused than anything else, not to mention disgusted.

Beetlejuice quickly pulls you away, a tad angry over how this overgrown hamburger was now hitting on you, HIS best friend.

"I'm the sheriff round these parts, and this here is my deputy." The ghoul snatches your hat from your hands and roughly puts it back on your head.

"I never agreed to that," you grumble, adjusting your hat.

"YOU'RE THE NEW SHERIFF?!" the bull bellowed, followed by a fit of laughter

"And who might you be?" Beetlejuice puffed out his chest, squaring up to the monster

"I'm bully the crud, the meanest ombre that ever licked a law man," he shouted

"Ya know you look a lot bigger than your eight by tens. Were you sick on picture day?" Beetlejuice laughs, pulling a photo from his pocket

"Enough small talk, I came to run you outta town, and that's what I aim ta do." The bully snorts

"Alright, bully, make your move," beetlejuice snorts reaching for his slime shooter

In a matter of second, the monster grabs beetlejuice with one hand, tightly wrapped about his gut, squeezing the afterlife out of him

"Nice move" beetlejuice croaks

"Wait!" You shout, dead or not, that's got to hurt

Bully drops Beetlejuice, his attention now on you

"Sweet little meadow muffin, ya change your tune about giving ol' bully that kiss?" He coos, quickly making his way in front of you and grabbing your hands. His voice was much less harsh when addressing you. It was nauseating.

"Ugh," you flinch. You'd prefer the same hostility he's shown towards beetlejuice over this 'sweet' side in a heartbeat.

As disgusted as you were, this little exchange, it was enough of a distraction to get beetlejuice back on his feet.

In a flash your ghost host with the most pulls you away from the Bull's grasp

"Back off bovine breath," he snorts, jabbing bully in his chest. "I hope you dont mind me asking, but what's your BEEF with this town anyway? Cuz we'd kinda like ya to just MOO-ve along" with each cow related joke beetlejuice pushed bully back away from you, you bit your tongue, trying not to laugh, despite Beetlejuice's confidence, you werent too sure how dangerous this guy really was, and besides, beej was doing enough laughing for the both of you.

You remained silent watching beetlejuice roll on the floor laughing at his own jokes, that is until Bully has had enough of the ghoul's shenanigans and snaps and screams.

"NOBODY MAKES A LAUGHING STOCK OUT OF BULLY THE CRUD!"

Beetlejuice hops back to his feet and laughs

"Beej, I think you should get serious here," you urge. Yes, you know beetlejuice was a powerful ghost, but he was also a dumbass.

He snorts, "Come on, babes, you worry too much. This over sized hamburger is all bark and no bite, ya know what I mean?" Beetlejuice gives you a half-hearted shrug, turning away from Bully.

Of course, Beetlejuice wasn't as freaked out as you were, he wasnt the one getting kissy faces from a cow.

"Relax, babes, remember what I told ya earlier? Nobody messes with the pest of the west-!?" Beetlejuice freezes. While he spent his time ignoring bully and flapping his gums at you, the bull took his opportunity and painted a large yellow stripe on Beetlejuice's back.

"THE SHERIFF GOT A YELLOW STREAK DOWN HIS BACK!" A voice screams

were the towns folk watching this whole mess?

"You calling me a chicken?!" Beetlejuice screams back

"Boo" bully leans into him and whispers in Beetlejuice's ear

And that was all it took to turn your friend into a giant yellow chicken

Beetlejuice scrambled and clucked away from bully, hopping on the nearest horse and riding out of town.

"Fuck" was all you could say watching your friend ride out of view, you were now screwed.

You were pulled from the spot and hoisted up into bully's arms

"Now that I ran sheriff stinko out of town, let's have us a wedding♡"

"...I just have one question for you"

"Well sure there honey"

"What's the capital on Thailand?"

"What?"

"Its Bangkok!" You shout slamming the heel of your boot into bully's crotch.

Bully drops you and screams. You quickly scramble away, thankful that stupid joke worked.

Your freedom was shortly lived, you didnt get far, no building would let you in, citizens too frightened to what Bully might do to them if they were caught harboring someone he wanted, which was fair in a sense.

Bully pulls you back into his arms and laughs. "You should be more careful there, my little meadow muffin, you dont wanna damage the family jewels, we're gonna need em"

Beetlejuice wherever you are please come back.

...

As you were being prepared/forced to marry a literal monster, Beetlejuice was in the middle of the desert not too worried about you, back to his old abnormal self, arguing with a horse.

"So your not gonna head back to tombstone? What about your friend?"

"Y/n? They're fine, they're the toughest living thing I've ever had the privilege to scare" he waves his horse off, despite all the teasing the ghoul gave you he held a very high opinion of you and just assumes you could take on bully no problem. "They could take on a whole herd of Bully the cruds, no sweat"

...

"Y/n's sure taking their sweet time, I'm beginning to worry" Beetlejuice sighs

"I told ya, bully the crud is one tough side of beef. Do you have any idea what's gonna happen to your little friend if you dont run him outta town?" The horse nags.

Beetlejuice snorts, "Yeah, like I can see the future -" in a flash, Beetlejuice's cowboy attire was replaced with to resemble swami, with a big crystal ball nestled in his lap.

The ghoul snorts out a laugh

"Now let's see if I can get a clear picture on this thing" beetlejuice focuses on the orb and what he sees makes his stomach turn, not only did you fail on rescuing yourself from his mess, you were forced into marriage with that monster, your living status was now gone, you were barefoot and pregnant in a kitchen, and all because of him.

"Y/N! SAY IT AIN'T SO! Y/N AND BULLY ARE GONNA GET HITCHED!"

...

So here you were, hand cuffed, now gagged, in the ugliest puffy dress you ever seen, standing before a minister with you future husband who had a vice grip on you and no way out, you were trapped, you couldnt run, you could barely speak, every objection from your mouth was quickly muffled by Bullys sweaty hands to the point the bull gagged you to make things easier for this mess of a ceremony, if you could manage a few words you would have said the B word 3 times before this got this far. Your time was running out, and your hopes of beetlejuice coming to save you were getting slimmer by the second.

"We are gathered here today to join these two in matrimony, be there any man, or beast" the father gesturing to the side of the church filled with what you could only assume is  Bullys extended family. "Who feels that this here wedding should not take place, let them hold up their hand, or hove, or forever hold their cud," the minister laughs nervously

This was it. You were doomed, there was nothing you could do, you stood there staring forward, utterly lost in despair.

"GET ON WITH IT!" Bully bellows tugging you in closer. This had to be a nightmare, right? Any second your alarm would go off, right? Waking you from this disaster, right?

"That's it! The only thing left to say is, I now pronounce you cow and-!"

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE PARSON! I OBJECT!"

You whip your head around, knowing that voice anywhere, there he was, your knight in stinking armor, standing at the entrance of the hall, rushing towards you.

"This lil' thing is spoken for" beej spats before pulling you away from Bully, with a snap of the ghoul's fingers your restraints vanish, with your new found freedom you were quick to embrace him, silently thanking the stars he came back in the nic of time.

"How dare you try and marry MY fiance!"

"Your what?" You mumble

"Your fiance?! They ain't got a ring to prove that!"

"Oh?~" Beetlejuice grabs your wrist and shoves your hand in Bully's face, "then what's this?" Placed upon your middle finger was a very large, very tacky, bright green jewel on a black and white striped band, a ring that sure wasn't there 2 minutes ago.

"I-?!" The bully stutters

"You didn't notice? were you too busy forcing my little cockroach into this mess you couldnt be asked to see if they've been already spoken for, I bet you wouldnt listen to a word they said" each word the ghoul spoke he would jab the bull in the chest, he was really laying on the country twang, you couldnt help bit crack a smile knowing the danger of you being married to that monster was gone, not to mention Beetlejuice saying you were his fiance, it was cute and it made your heart skip a beat.

This mirth was short-lived, though, as Bully had had enough of Beetlejuice's shenanigans, with a snarl and a bellowing howl.

"NOBODY CUTS OFF MY NUPTIALS  AND GETS AWAY WITH! IT'S TIME WE SETTLE THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL!"

"Yeah"

"AND THAT MEANS ONLY ONE THING"

"Name it"

"SLIMESHOOTERS AT 60 PACES"

"YOU GOT IT!"

Bully stomps out of the church to get ready for the dual

Beetlejuice quickly pulls you aside

"Alright babes, let's get out of here, just say those magic b words, and we can amscray," he whispers to you.

"We can't"

"right- WHAT?! WHY?! - I mean, why? Cat got your tongue? Suddenly, you lost your voice? Or, oh no, dont tell me ya changed your mind and ACTUALLY WANT TO MARRY THAT CHUMP??" The ghoul grabs you shoulders and shakes you as if to knock some sense into you.

You brush his hands away "no, Beetlejuice, we cant leave, if we leave Bully is gonna destroy this town and everyone in it, I can't live with that on my shoulders" despite the fact that you hung around with a professional con man, you yourself were honest and kind, and to be the cause of such misery, you could never forgive yourself.

"Like I'm gonna lose sleep over that-" he grumbles

"Please beetlejuice, I'm asking you as a friend, and after you ditching me, I think you owe me" you gesture to the awful dress you were forced in, not to mention how if he was seconds late you could have been hitched to a literal monster.

"Fine" he grumbles

"Besides you're dead, what do you have to lose?"

Beetlejuice groans

"Also, can I ask one more thing of you, Beej? Can you get me out of this dress?" You tug at the tooling. You could barely move, and the fabric was quite itchy.

"Y/n! In front of so many people, and in a church! Well, if you insist, " the ghoul gingerly reaches for the zipper on your dress before you swat his hand away, clearly embarrassed

"I ment with magic." You sigh, not really in the mood for games

"Right, I knew that, just messing with ya," he chuckles sheepishly. With another snap, you were back in your cowboy attire

"Thank you, now, now what about bully?" You sneer

"Sit tight, babes, Bully's got a date with the sheriff"

"No, we can beat him together." You give the ghoul a light punch in the arm, still a little sore he left you behind.

...

Like any other western movie cliche, beetlejuice and bully square off in the center of town

"Please, for the love of god cheat," you grumble, watching this soon to be mess from the sidelines.

"That would be ideal, your friend there couldn't hit the ground with his hat," the mayor buts in to your mutterings

"But I think I have something dumb enough it might just work -" you muse before running off.

"This is it bully. It's time to separate the men from the bulls. There's no tomorrow. It's now or never, the cheese stands alone!"

"Quit stalling and draw!" Bully sneers, absolutely fed up with Beetlejuice's nonsense.

"Draw? I'm a little rusty, but I'll give it a go. " Beetlejuice snorts swapping his cowboy hat for a beret, pulling a canvas and easel out of nowhere

"Now I'm gonna need ya to keep that pose for the next few hours -"

Bully screams in frustration, ripping the canvas away from Beej and slamming it over head

Beetlejuice unfazed snorts. "I really get into my work"

"I'm gonna give you one last chance to draw beetlejerk, or else I'm gonna start without ya, NOW DRAW!"

Beetlejuice swallows the lump in his throat "I guess this is it, theres no turning back now"

"Hold it!"

"Y/n!" Beetlejuice shouts, glad to see you

"Hey Bully I've change my mind about marrying you!" You shout

"WHAT!? Babes have you lost your mind?!"

"You have?! Oh honey I'd knew youd come around♡"

You run into the center of the action and with Bully distracted, you toss beetlejuice a different pistol

"Shoot!" You shout

"OH!" Beetlejuice fumbles with the gun before taking clear aim and firing, but instead of slime, a red sauce came out, covering bully, you let out a sigh you didnt know you were holding, the fact that beetlejuice ACTUALLY hit bully was nothing other than luck.

"Huh?! BARBEQUE SAUCE?! GET IT OFF OF ME" Bully screams

"I dont know about you, babes, but I could eat." beetlejuice growls, scraping a knife and fork together.

Bully scared for his afterlife screams and scrambles out of tombstone, off into the sunset and out of sight.

"Thank god" you sigh, absolutely physically and emotionally exhausted

"We did it, babes!" Beetlejuice pulls you into a side hug

"Yeah" you chuckle

"Sheriff, we can't thank you enough." The mayor shakes Beetlejuice's hand

"Yup, bully the crud won't be bothering this town anymore, so long as you keep plenty of barbeque sauce on hand, but alas, it's about time I hung up the old slimeshooters" beetlejuice sighs

"WHAT?!" The mayor of tombstone drops to the ground and hugs Beetlejuice's knees."NO! dont quit, is it because of me, because I got you to take the job with trickery, dishonesty, and deceit?"

Beetlejuice snorts out a laugh "heck no  I like that in a guy, but no, I'm hanging up my guns for personal reasons, all this mud are ruining my boots"

The mayor sighs, "we lose a lot of them that way..."

"We should get going, Beej." You finally interrupt, desperate to get home and rest.

Beetlejuice perks up. "So babes, how's bout a thank you for your hero, huh?" Beetlejuice  leans into you, wiggling his eyebrows

"A 'thank you' to the guy whose fault I almost married to cow?" You snort out a laugh

"I came back in the nic of time, didn't I? Come on, come on, come on~" the ghoul teases, nudging his elbow into your arm.

You yank beetlejuice by his neckerchief pulling him close to your level, that was enough to get him to shut his mouth, and in an instant, you give him a quick, soft kiss on his cheek.

Letting him go, he remains stunned. You give the ghoul a light punch in the arm

"Come on, beetlejuice, let's go home"

"...Right"

It was odd, everytime you've shown beej kindness or compassion, he would always go off saying it was 'gross' but this time that wasnt that case, he remained silent, which after the day you had, you were fine with that.

Bonus

To be honest, you were exhausted, between a rough work week and that whole emotional nearly married to a monster thing. You nearly passed out when you returned home.

But now all that was behind you and you were home again, safe and unwed.

In the netherworld, the ghoul who dragged you into the situation/ saved you was laying awake in his bed, hand gingerly placed upon the cheek you so quickly kissed.

Yes, beetlejuice has kissed you multiple times, but as a joke, sort of, but this? You kissing him? With genuine feeling?

"Gross" was all he could utter, hand still holding the spot where your lips met his cold face.

[ya-zz]

Hi, I am back. Work be killing me, but I’m here to kill everyone else.

Ramattra and reader.

Similar to one of your personal pieces where reader has to repair him, but they mess up somewhere and his memory is corrupted of them so he hates reader, despite them fixing him.

I will personally send you a curveball to put in there too.

You’re welcome. Enjoy.

Yikes, you're back-

Fr tho, this was fun, but not because I didn't have to write some of it- Alternate ending vibes.

Ramattra x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1707 (1243 newly written)

A/N: I was told to use part of a personal fic for this. It's like an alternate ending so to speak.

Read the original here

You had no idea how much time had passed before Angela had let you go. Hanzo walked with you to the workshop to make sure you were truly okay before leaving you for a training session with Genji.

Upon entering, you are met with what you had left. Ramattra was still standing there with no power. Some dust had begun to settle on his chassis so you made quick and gentle work of brushing it off.

Checking the monitor, all tests had come back green. All was good. You direct the current through again.

Orange.

Red.

Switched off.

You scream. Like actually scream, throwing a piece of scrap metal at the wall.

"Three weeks of work for nothing!" Tears stream down your face as you keep running the current but was getting nowhere. "Fuck, what the actual hell am I supposed to do..."

Omnics didn't come with an on button.

…

Wait…

You rummage through the spare parts, a small piece rattled at the bottom of the box. Despite feeling somewhat relieved you missed something, you were utterly pissed off with yourself for actually missing something.

Pondering for a moment, you realise where this piece belongs. A small hole underneath his back plate, hidden among cables and wires.

Sonofabitch…

After about another hour of fucking about with everything in his back, you had the piece inserted and flipped up.

Reassembling his back, you head over to direct a current.

Orange.

Red.

Blue.

You could hear hissing which meant his fans were working. A small digital noise escapes from the omnic as his arms twitch, head tilting to the side.

You stand there, body frozen.

"Ramattra?"

His head tilts back up, now directly facing you.

Nothing was said for a moment. The two of you just staring at each other.

“I demand you release me.” He says and his tone was serious. 

“I have some final checks to do before I can let you go-” You attempt to explain. 

“My systems have come back intact.” He states. “Release me this instant.” 

You stare at him blankly. He was never this rude to you before, what has gotten- 

“Oh no…” You mutter, rushing over to the computer to run a quick file check.

“Human!” He rattles against the wires and restraints he was bound by. 

The panic and fear rise within your body as you look at the screen. 

[ MEMORY FILE CORRUPTED ]

“Why…?” Tears prick your eyes as you stare at the computer screen. You ignore the shouting coming from behind you as you run diagnostics, trying to find out why and how it got corrupted, why is it only the memory file that is corrupted? 

Everything else was intact. His HUD settings, system files and drives were all working perfectly. 

Something shattered on the floor which startled you, causing you to turn and face Ramattra. He was approaching, and fast. The stark white faceplate you had grown to love looked menacing, intimidating as he took quick and calculated steps towards you. 

Then your stomach drops. You were cornered. The only escape was behind him and you didn’t take a liking to jumping out of the window… and the delivery shaft was on the ground floor. Perfect.

“There is no escape, human.” His hand grabs you by the throat, squeezing tightly. “What did you do to me?” 

Your hands grab and scratch at his arm. “Let- Let go of me.” Through struggled breaths, you speak to him, tone calm and hopeful, hopeful that he will let go. 

“What-” his grip got tighter, “did you do to me?” 

“Nothing, I swear-” 

“Where am I?” He glares at you, optics looking down at you, watching the panic rise, the heat in your face getting higher as the blood burns inside. 

“My workshop.” Tension was building quickly in your head and your chest was getting tighter as you continue to struggle for air. “Please-”

His grip loosens slightly, enough for you to gasp and choke but he doesn’t let you go. “Pitiful.” He spits. 

“Ramattra, please-” Attempt one. He has to remember. 

He cocks his head to the side as he processes your words before he hums. “How do you know my name?”

System settings were intact.

You stare at him, hands dropping from his arm. “What… What do you remember?” With that question, you hear his fans pick up speed, a little noisier than you remember. 

“Shambali. My brothers. Brother Mondatta and Zenyatta.” He halts, servos twitching on your neck. “Where are they?” 

“Zenyatta is here.”

“Brother Mondatta?”

“Mondatta…” You trail off. It had been several years since Mondatta’s assassination. You feel his hand squeeze. “Mondatta was killed a few years ago.” 

Ramattra freezes. “That cannot be right.” 

“I’m sorry, Ramattra.” You look up at him with sympathy. 

Something clicks within his system, his hand tensing without him commanding it to. His vocaliser stutters with static and his optics going in an aperture frenzy. The grip on your throat tightens to the point you feel something snap, and pain shoots up. 

Blood pools in your mouth, dripping down onto his hand. 

Your gargled noises and attempts to free yourself break Ramattra free of his system glitch and he drops you immediately. Your body falls to the floor with a harsh thud as you cough up the blood that had seeped into your lungs. 

Despite the pain you were in, you manage to sit up, sitting with your back resting on the filing cabinet. 

Ramattra kneels down, head tilting to the side as he examines you. He sees the panic within your eyes and almost feels bad. 

“Are you certain brother Mondatta is dead?” 

You nod, not being able to speak. 

“Do you know who killed him?” 

You shake your head. 

Ramattra watches you, looking for any signs that you might be lying. When met with truthful answers, he looks down as his systems work overtime. 

“I-” He starts before looking back up. “I am sorry for what I have done to you. May I?” He reaches his hand forward, noticing how you flinch back. Ramattra stops for a moment before reaching further, fingertips touching your bruising neck. 

“I feel like I know you from somewhere, but I cannot place you.” He tilts his head up, looking at the computer screen and seeing his system. He notices the corrupted file is slowly repairing, which means that the task he set off within his own system is slowly working on it. 

He watches as your eyes dart around, from him to behind him, to the left and right of him. The panic was still high, body still shaking. Systems show that you’re bleeding, a crushed throat but it wasn’t as severe as you thought it was. 

Ramattra stays silent as he watches you, yet without his cowl and… ‘clothing’, he looks like the standard R-7000 unit. He is intimidating, even more so as he watches you without any movement or sound. 

When the computer pings, you don’t move and keep your focus on the omnic who was still kneeling in front of you. 

“Unfortunately, it seems part of my memory file is corrupted.” He finally speaks. “I remember everything, but I still cannot place you.” 

You smile weakly, tilting your head to the side a little and wincing. “Its… Okay.” you manage to say through the pain. 

Before Ramattra had a chance to respond, the door to the workshop slams open, Angela and Zenyatta rushing in. 

“Athena made a distress call.” Angela rushes over to you and gasps at your condition. 

“They are fine.” Ramattra states. 

“Brother?” Zenyatta appears behind him which causes the larger omnic to stand and face him. “What happened?” 

Ramattra stutters, looking back down at you with  heavy feeling in his chest. “I hurt them.” 

The room fell silent. 

“What?” Angela looks up at the taller omnic. 

“My system went on the fritz and I crushed their throat.” 

“Your system doesn’t just go on the ‘fritz.’” The medic turns her attention back to you, gently turning your head to face her. “Look at me, [y/n].” 

“Accident…” You mumble, only to be hushed. 

Ramattra looks down at the floor before turning his attention to the monk. 

“I am sure it was.” Zenyatta speaks up. “Brother Ramattra would not hurt you, [y/n].” 

“[y/n]...” Ramattra repeats your name, looking off to the side. “[y/n]...” 

“Brother?” The monk looks up. 

“I do not know a [y/n].” Ramattra says but then he looks back to you. “I still cannot place you.” 

You smile at him. 

“[y/n]... Such a unique name.” He kneels back down and offers a hand to you. 

You could feel the medics eyes on you as you reach up and take his hand. 

“Allow me to make up for the damages I have caused.”

He doesn’t say, but there was a transmission that played within his system.

[ Memory: Repair log, day 10 ]

"Despite you being a pain in the ass sometimes, you're alright. Fuck, you should've seen how heartbroken Zen was. It hurt me too, you know. If this doesn't work, I will never forgive myself. I don't think Zen will ever get over it either... If you're listening, Ramattra, please wake up... I don't think you understand that you have people here who actually want you back, and not for your strength. I'll miss you if this don't work. I'll miss seeing that damn face of yours and your snarky comments." You laugh. "You always made me smile. Even that day you came in with Zen. You didn't see but when you left I was super happy you trusted me. It was the very first time you let a human touch you. I heard from your brother you hadn't even let any other human touch you before I did…

Hey, Ramattra... you're welcome here anytime. Even if it's just to talk."

Between the glitches and static, the voice matched yours and the hatred he had felt for you when he turned on in that workshop had subsided. 

Ramattra may not remember you, but he was ready to fix his mistake and make new memories with you, ones where he would remember you, ones where he would protect the files from never being corrupted again. 

—

KOFI

[kolour-me-kourt]

Chapter Four:Emotional Rollercoaster

It was the day before YN would be going to NYC to see Melo play against the Knicks. She was super excited cause it had been a while since she's been in New York. She had already packed because she knew she had a long day today and wouldn't have enough energy to do it once she got home. When she got in she had all intentions on calling Melo because today she got a dm from his girl. But Asia's words were sticking with her LBG was strategic so YN had to be smart about this.

She pulled into her parking spot and then went and checked her mailbox. Going straight into her home she sees a box that looks like it's for textbooks which made her curious cause she hadn't ordered anything. She gets to her table sitting down and opening the box it had a Manila folder that had a label on the front that read "Confidential" wtf is this shit she pulls out the stack of papers and at the very top she finally saw what it was. Melo had sent her

A non-disclosure agreement aka NDA. She instantly became upset because why would he do this out of the blue she of course FaceTimed him cause she knows he's already in New York.

"Yooooo" "um wtf is this" she flipped the camera "just a little nda nothing major" she squinted her eyes trying to find something to say she flipped the camera back to her face. "What are you doing" " I was just on Twitter scrolling through.... what are you doing?" "You didn't think to tell me that you were sending me a NDA? You just sent it in the mail expecting me to sign it and shut up?" "Sign it or don't like I said it's not a big deal" He was quickly becoming annoyed with her aggression "so why send it?" "JJ just trying to protect me I know you well enough to know even if this goes to hell you wouldn't say no shit to ruin my career or my image so like I said sign it or dont" " well I don't want too" " well don't YN" she pouts he smiled

"what's the problem now" "why you didn't give me a heads up that JJ knew" "he my manger he knows a lot I didn't think it would matter" "I don't pay you to think" She jokes to put herself in a better mood but it really doesn't work "when you going to the airport" YN shrugs "I don't know.... I might come I might go I don't know" she smiles quoting Drake "I know you not that mad" "I'm just playing Nigga I'm gonna go in like two hours" "meaning you should get here when" "my flight supposed to leave at 2 so I should be there around 4 ish" "oh okay you gotta stop by here to get your key I checked in since I knew you were gonna come in hella early" she smiled "thank you that was sweet.... You just wanna see me?" "Mhmmm but you already knew that" 

"should I bring my NDA" "YN stop playing damn!" "I'm just askingggg.... Should I sign it daddy would that make you feel better" "oh I see what this is" he smirked "Hm? What is it?" "You want me to fuck yo shit up as soon as you get here you like when I talk to you crazy" "not true" "show me your pussy right now and if you not wet I'll believe you" YN rolled her eyes "should I bring it or nah?" "Show me.... Right now" she stands up pulling her bottoms down and then her panties. She sits back in her chair grabbing her phone spreading her legs and showing him. "Stick your fingers inside" he sounded hoarse just from watching her she licked two of her fingers and then slowly inserted them in herself the noises gave her away she clearly was soaking. "Yeah that's what I thought" she stops and props the phone back up sucking her fingers.

"maybe I was already wet" "nah only I get you like that" "how you know" "cause I know .... You telling me I'm not" "I get myself pretty wet" "😒 you just make sure you on that plane" "or what?" "Trust me you wanna see me" "oooou cause why?" "I'm just saying you wanna get on that plane and come see daddy" she bit her lip

"all this bs through me off I had something to tell you" "what happened?" "I woke up to a dm this morning" he looked at her concerned "okay from who?" YN shared her screen going to her dms  and to Melos surprise he found his girlfriend deep in his side chicks dms .... Asking for a one on one session saying Melo can just watch or she can watch them have sex or a threesome with all of them. Melo laughed "I need to know how many people she's done this with" he sounded so annoyed but tried to hide it with laughter and jokes YN rolled her eyes

"so y'all out here have threesomes with random people?" "We haven't had a threesome since I been fucking you and she ain't been fuckin nobody else I promise" YN rolled her eyes "whatever still seems fishy" "is that something you would do though?" "The minute she sees us fucking she would know we been fuckin you know my body too well ....." he bit his lip "I'm saying if we never would've .... Fucked would you do a threesome with us?" "No I'm not into sharing dick right in my face" He laughed "oh okay that makes sense" "you don't seem sure"

"Ijs my girl really like to eat pussy" "better than you?" "She wouldn't eat yours better than me cause I'm addicted to that taste" he was getting turned on by the mere thought of YN being pleased. YN watched him get turned on which made her turned on slightly too. "Yeah and I only want you tasting it" "I wanna be the only one tasting it" "lameloooo" YN whined wanting to change the subject "go there with me for a second ..... me you and another girl.... Both of us pleasing you and you just laying there receiving it all... sounds good?" "With you explaining it ... the way you're looking at me but... expectation vs reality is a real thing" "mmm you right" "like always" YN rubbed down her body slowly and took a deep breath "That really turned you on?" she nods her head "yeah it really did well let me go get myself together I'll see you in four hours sir" "mhmm bye lil mama" "byeeee"

                   * in nyc at Melos room*

"We been doing this for like six months now .... And you Never told me what's your biggest fantasy" they were laying in bed as Melo tried to pry into her deepest dirtiest thoughts

"I'm not into all that ...." "You gotta have one .... Fucking outside? Being watched what is it" "you like to be watched?" YN instantly became intrigued "I like the idea somebody could be watching that's how I perform anyway" "that's your ego" "maybe ... so tell me one you have" she bit her lip. "I haven't tried it but I'm curious to try...." "Alright tell me" "I like the idea of .... Getting caught? Like while having sex somebody walks in or having sex somewhere I shouldn't be having sex and people hear me" Melo just stared at her making her nervous

"what?" She pouted he smiled "you was sitting on that like it was some wild shit" she rolled her eyes "regardless it's some shit I can't do with you so" "why not?" "You not mineeeeeeee" "I am though" "ahhht ahht don't do that" she laughed "okay we in New York I am yours so what?" She smiled "you right you right" "are you coming to New Orleans and Dallas?" "No I gotta get back to the office tomorrow but I think the next game I can go to is Boston" "ooooh okay" "what?" "You just never told me no out of all this time" " I have meetings and potential clients I can't run around the country with you as much as I would love too" she kissed his cheek "make it up to me then" "mmmm no"she laughs he kisses her anyway climbing on top of her.

"Why'd you wanna talk fantasies?" She moans as his fingers slowly enter her. "Just to see where your head was... after last night" "should I respond to her?" His finger curled upwards "unless you want her to eat your pussy it's kinda pointless" YN just moaned which made him pull away while still staring in her eyes. "You want her to eat your pussy?" He looks her up and down "No why you asking" "cause you ain't respond earlier" "you want her to eat my pussy?" "It'll be nice to watch" he kissed her lips again being honest making her moan louder.

"Would you be mad if I let her do it and you weren't around" "trust me she want me around for that" "idk you assuming she lie to you all the time" he pulled away sensing her mood change "does she?" "I meannnn she lied to you twice that we know of when we all went out with Lorenzo" "we ain't do shit with that nigga you was out with that nigga" "regardless you know what I'm talking about...., tf?" "don't even say that Nigga name to me" "he ain't do shit to you.... Fuck is you acting like that for" "he wanted you he probably still want you and he touched you that's enough"

"it's crazy how you get so possessive over me like you don't have a whole bitch" "it's crazy how you get possessive over me like you didn't know I had a whole bitch" "oh wowww" "I'm just saying you mad at her calling her a liar for what?" "Ight ima head out since you wanna be simple I called her a liar cause she be lying! Tf?" "nah stop running talk to me you catching feelings?" "And if I was?" He sighed "that mean you are" "you wish" "nah I actually don't it make shit harder on me!" "what happened to this basically being another relationship for you... or was that just cute to say?" He licked his lips

"nah I meant that" "okay so if I have feelings they valid right?" "YN why we gotta do this right now it's been a couple days since I seen you and it's about to be longer after this night you stressing for what" "who tf stressing!!" "yo chill out" "who tf you talking to?!" "YN We the only two in here" he said calmly she rolled her eyes "ight" "so what?" "nothing at all I'm not doing this with you... I don't have feelings but I see me going down that path and I'm not even playing with you...." "When I said you basically another relationship it's because I like you alot ... I can chill with you and be completely open... but I wasn't talking about making you a second girlfriend or nothing like that" "yeah I get it" "so what's the problem right now"

"from the nda to your girl.... My mood is just fucked up im not even feeling like we YN and Lamelo I feel like I'm not who I usually am around you I'm too emotional maybe it's cause I've been running around busy maybe it's because it's so early in the morning and I'm fresh off a plane idk but Uh yeah" "maybe it's cause you have feelings" "I don't though" "well what's gonna make you feel better in this situation? You want some dick? You want some food? You wanna sleep? All of the above?" She smiled for the first time in ten minutes not saying anything he knew he had her

"what do you want?" She said softly "I wanna eat" "then we can get food" "that's not what I'm trying to eat" "I fell right into that one huh" "yeah you really did" "so now what?" "I follow your lead you tell me" she bit her lip thinking then she took her shorts off and she walked closer to him "well first. ...... I would like to apologize for being so mouthy.... You told me about that" she gets on her knees "secondly? You gon Use your mouth for good?" She licked her lips nodding her head "uh huh" slowly she pulled his pants down watching his dick spring to life. "You realize this not always gon be an apology" she slowly leaked spit onto his dick getting it wet and then licking her lips. "Why not?" He gathers her hair as her lips go around his tip.

"Cause" she puts more of him in her mouth as she begins to stroke and work her tongue in her mouth. "Fuck" he groaned staring at her watching he every move she spits and then pulls away slowly "cause fuck? I don't get it" she smirked taking her shirt and off and then placing her mouth back on him quickly taking him deeply until she gagged.

He holds her head there thrusting his hips mostly to teach her a lesson "It's not gon always be apology if what you're doing keeps getting worse" she lightly taps his thighs so he lets go of his grip on her head and she slowly pulls off taking a sharp inhale she starts to stroke him again that simple transaction of power made her want him so bad.

"anything I've done has been a basic reaction" she takes her bra off he leans down kissing her forehead "come on" he helps her up and then guided her to the bed he realized he wouldn't get what he want fully by her giving her head it was time to get into some action "how you want me?" She asked softly "Ass in the air"she gets on the bed arching her back and sticking her ass up in the air spreading her legs a little bit. She noticed he took a step back striping himself. She took the liberty of inserting two fingers inside of her while she was waiting.

Suddenly she felt him grab her hands as he started licking her center she shivered. "Mmmmmm this is new you do it so well" she moaned he groaned into her folds. "You like me holding your arms like this?" "yesss" "yeah I knew you would freaky ass" she moaned loudly not being able to move  fully while his tongue and lips pleased her center just turned her on more She started to move her hips up and down against his lips and tongue until she came. He continued to lick her and then He kissed her body standing up. Tracing her entrance with his dick

"you want me?" She pushed her hips back "you know I want you daddy" "beg for me" "mmm daddy please?" She moaned into the sheets "please what?" "Ahhhh Please fuck me" "look at me" YN turns around and Melo slides in watching her face. "Ughhhh" "what you say when Daddy give you what you want?" "Thank youuuu"

"yeah stop playing with me" "mmmmm how am I playing?" He grabs her hair roughly as his other hand stays firmly on her hips. "You better not fuckin run" he smacks her ass as her body shakes "don't cum either" "ouuuuu fuck" she pouts her walls starts to constrict he lets go of her hair and almost immediately her stomach hit the bed while keeping her ass in the air.

"If you gon be lazy you don't deserve this dick" YN shook with pleasure "mmm im not being lazy" "why you laying down" "Lamelo stop teasing Me" he smacks her ass again "I swear I'll pull out" she gathers herself quickly pushing herself up "ughhh" he was deeper than ever she started to slide down again. "Fuck you so wet" "I'm gonna cummmm" "No you not" "Lamelo ... please" "no what happened to that energy from earlier .... If you all about reactions I'm reacting too don't you fuckin cum"  he said aggressively going deeper with each word making her cum all of his dick as she moaned sorry in the sheets he pulls out when she no longer feels his presence behind her she turns around.

"Lamelo please stop" "I told you not to cum" "I said I'm sorry" she pouts he pushes her back on the bed spreading her legs sliding back In deeply "you ain't mean that shit though" she gasped as he continued talking "see I was right" "I'm sorryyyyy" she looked into his eyes pleading his thumb goes to her clit rubbing her "wanna make it up to me" she nods her head "mmmmhmmm" keep looking me in my eyes and don't cum until I say that's the only way ima forgive you" "okayyyy" he smirked while  his thumb continued to play with her clit as he dove deeper and her legs never stopped shaking from earlier

"you gon cum?" She hesitates "noooo" he smiled "good girl" "but I want too" she bats her eyelashes "yeah I bet" he rolls his eyes "you're mad at me" she whined "no I'm not" "yes you are I'm sorry about talking about her I won't do it no more" he smiled "can we not have this conversation right now" "baby I jus—" she cuts herself off as he goes deeper "Hm what you saying?" "No—nothing" she moans softly "good" "you close" "yessss" "Look me in my eyes and cum for me don't stop looking at me" his thumb went into overdrive while his hips gave the same exact pace

"ooooooohhhhh fuckkkk😭😭😭 daddy pleaseeeee" "hmmm what you begging for now?" "Ughhhh I— I—don't know I dont mmmmmm" "you feel good?" "Yessss" "cum for me .." he groaned and she looked in his eyes deeply releasing all over his dick and Melo came too inside of her pulling out slowly he finally exhaled and laid down beside her.

She gets up going to use the bathroom and clean herself up and then she gets him washcloth and wipes his body down. "Thank you baby" "mhmmm" she takes it back to the bathroom so housekeeping can get it later. "Come here" his voice was deep she straddled him. "Yes?" "If you had feelings for me you would tell me?" "I don't know if I'm being honest I probably wouldn't" "why not?" "Because I don't wanna stop" "so is this your way of telling me you do" "no cause I don't right now I promise" she stared into his eyes it felt sincere "just tell me what's going on in your head instead of keeping it all to yourself" she kisses his lips softly he adds tongue

"only thing in my head right now is how I want more of you" was she tired? Yeah of this conversation "thought you wanted to sleep" "not no more" he lifts her hips sliding her down on to his dick and then spanking her ass. "You doing all the work then" she slowly start to move her hips up and down moaning softly. "Damn baby" he groaned when he felt her squeeze him as she moved up and down slowly "it feels good for you?"  He smiled "yeah don't stop" he wasn't lying but at the same time he low key wanted to test her to see how long she would last when she was in control. He could tell she was waiting for him to take over.

She grabs his hand placing them on her ass and then she puts her hands back on his chest bouncing slowly as it started to really feel good her head was thrown back moaning his name like she had never had dick before. He slaps her ass "mmmm harder" he lifted and eyebrow but did it again he felt her legs tremble "please?" She said softly he keeps one hand on his ass and other one rubs from her back to her Breast down to her clit making her almost fall over "please what?" He asked deeply she whined "harder?" He slaps her ass again while rubbing her clit when she got right to her breaking point he lifts her up thrusting up words making her lose it completely.

Something about her riding was just so damn intense for them both probably cause she doesn't do it often. "Please don't stop please I'm gonna cum pleaseee" she was a whining moaning mess he loved it. He hadn't got her to this point ever but it seemed like she might cry because it felt so good. All he wanted to do is hold on tight to her thrust his hips and groan while watching her lose her mind and let down the guard that she had up the whole morning.

Finally she released all over his dick he watched the cream paint his dick he didn't stop movements until he heard her say "okay ... okay" she shook whining he puts her back down resting on his hips and just as she gets comfortable he flips her over. "Mmm" she moaned because he was still inside her "I know you not tired?" She laughed "I am though" "you want me to stop?" "Nooo" "you feel so good right now" her nails dig into his back  "damn you gon make me miss you" "shhhhh don't say that" and it was in that moment shit started to click in his mind he pulls out standing up and looking down at her.

"Did I miss something? Or do something?" She asked completely confused "you have no intentions on coming to Boston this is your last time..." Melo said he sounded angry but he really was just disappointed "I never said that" "but that's how we fuckin.... So tell me the truth" "just come back over here" "tell me the truth" "I'm coming to Boston Melo I don't know what made you come to the conclusion that I wasn't but I am!" She got angry "oh..." she pouts "why would you say that? I would give you the benefit of telling you I was done when I'm done and right now I don't feel like being done so come back over here so you can finish... please?" She smiled he came back over yanking her lower half to the edge of the bed and going deep.

"You know I got trust issues" he looked deep in her eyes  "it's okay...."  Her eyes fluttered close "don't leave without telling me ... promise?" She had never really saw this side of him it was vulnerable side she was enjoying it. He rubbed her clit slowly making her gasp "promise me" "I promise" her legs wrapped around him tightly as he got closer and closer "cum with me?" He asks she nods her head too tired to say words he's too tired to make her say it.

"Mmmmm ahhh" she lets out a quiet moan when she feels him pulsing inside of her which makes her cum. "Fuck" he said softly pulling out cumming in the sheets she shook when she no longer felt him Inside of her. He looked down at her "wow .... You so damn beautiful" he kisses down her body attaching his lips to her clit. "Ahhhhh" her hand pushed his head slightly he just brings her closer. "Mmmmmmmmm" why did he think she would ever just leave him alone ... that doesn't even make sense. When he had enough he came back up laying down and kissing her lips. She gave it five minutes before she started speaking again.

"So now that we're calmed down can I ask you something" he sighed "yeah" "you trust me enough to not out you or expose you you trust me enough to not make me sign a nda but you don't trust me enough to leave without saying bye?"

"Can we not have this conversation" "I guess" he glanced at her seeing her frustration "idk why.... I get it doesn't make sense but I don't understand it but yeah I feel like at some point you will just ghost me"  "okay and I promise to tell you ... if I'm gonna leave" "thank you" "mhmm" "so what's the moves" "I leave tonight so that's up to you mr." He laughed

"mmmm I think we should go to sleep and then order some food and watch movies" he pulls her closer rubbing her ass "you wasted money on a hotel I feel bad" "just the deposit it's fine... stay with me" "okay I'm staying" she cuddled closer to him "you feel like moving yet" "depends on the reason?" She glances up

"I got you another gift but I don't feel like getting up" "mmm you can just tell me what it is if it's not big" "I don't wanna do that either cause .... It's gon sound bad let me get up" she laughed as he gathered all his strength to get up going to the closet he pulled out a box bringing it over to her. She smiled grabbing it. "It's heavy" he laughed "a little bit" she opens the box finally. "Awww Melo this is cute"

" it's supposed to be aromatherapy ... I know you like that shit so to make up for the other stuff I got you these it's a bigger box waiting for you at home but I figured you didn't wanna get on a plane with a big ole box" she laughed "you were right" she opens them smelling each one. "Wanna smell?" She asked lifting the first one he grabs it gently from her. "Oh that smells good better than I thought it would" she laughed "thank you" "you're welcome"

she closes the box back up and he takes it placing it on the table and come back and lays down. "Feels good to relax" YN says completely content. "Yeah we been going through it" he laughed slightly "it's just emotions .... Maybe we shouldn't care so much" "we past all that though" "yeah.... And I guess if I didn't like you I wouldn't fuck you" "and what's wrong with liking?" She smiles "nothing at all"

Whew Chile the deniallllll 🥱😂😂😂 anyway I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter

Next chapter is Boston ... and we know what happens in Boston

[tarisilmarwen]

RobStar Week 2023, Day 5 - Movie Night

(Short and sweet and cute.)

---

Robin pinched his eyes down at the cover of the DVD and then let them flick up at his girlfriend.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Last time we tried watching this series it was a bit, uh..."

Starfire tucked Wicked Scary 4 against her chest. "Harrowing, I know," she finished for him. "Because of Raven's powers going haywire. But Raven is not here right now and I have read the reviews and people are much agreed that this is the best one yet. Besides," she added, turning the case around and pointing to one of the back cover insert images, "this one has my favorite Earth actress and I am curious to see how she does outside of her usual body of lighthearted romantic comedy work."

Robin bit his lip, but couldn't really deny her logic. Still, he pulled out his T-communicator and double-checked the position of Raven's tracker.

"I have already forewarned her that we would be watching it," Starfire told him. "She has promised to stay downtown until given the all-clear."

Sheepishly, Robin stowed his comm again. "You should have led with that," he joked.

"Perhaps I should have," she agreed with a chuckle. "Should Raven be offended by your apparent skittishness?" she teased.

Robin shuddered. "Just not keen on having slimy cold mentally projected tentacles dragging me into a wall again," he said. In the immediate aftermath of the incident he had played calm, collected leader, but he couldn't deny the events had still kind of creeped him out. A little.

Grinning, Starfire held out the case to him.

"I shall begin making the popcorn if you will set the movie up," she offered.

He took it in his hands and passed on her left, as she headed for the kitchenette area and began opening cupboards.

***

Forty-five minutes in found them shoulder-to-shoulder, laying on their stomachs on the floor, popcorn bowl forgotten to the side as they stared, enraptured, by the flickering blue screen of the TV.

After a long moment of tension the speakers popped with a loud noise, in tandem with an intense jump scare that happened in the film.

Both teens shrieked and grabbed the edge of the blanket draping their backs, flinging it over their heads to hide.

After a moment, hearts pounding, their eyes met.

Tension broken, they laughed, adrenaline rush inside them turning happy rather than frightened.

"That was rather silly of us," Starfire commented.

"It was a good scare," Robin countered, peeking out through the gap to check and confirm that, yes, they were in another harrowing chase scene now. "My heart's still racing."

She nudged him in the shoulder. "Are you sure that is not due to the pleasant company you are keeping?" she asked with a cheeky wink.

He laughed shortly, blushing and ducking his eyes. "Company is nice," he mumbled. He reached over and set a hand on her waist, tugging her closer.

She happily snuggled into him, leaning her head against his ear.

They sat there in contentment for a moment, before Robin lifted the edge of the blanket, sneaking his hand for the popcorn bowl. "So what's the assessment so far? Does Darsha Williams deliver?" He was vaguely familiar with the actress from some of Starfire's other favorite movies; she usually played much whackier than the role she'd been cast in now.

Starfire hummed thoughtfully. "Her expressions are a little bit exaggerated," she decided, "but she does appear to have the range. I was not sure I would believe her performance but she is making for a very credible Final Girl."

Robin popped a few kernels into his mouth, both of them lingering under the cover of the blanket, choosing to talk for a moment instead of watch. "They've definitely cleaned up the camerawork," he said. "Shakeycam in the original was a bit hard to parse sometimes."

"And I believe the monster may have a new leitmotif."

He sidled a look at her. "Since when do you know about musical leitmotifs?" he teased.

It was her turn to look away bashfully. "I have been doing the binging of videos on YouTube." Her own hand darted out from under the blanket to capture a handful of popcorn. "Tamaranian musical composition has some things surprisingly in common with specific genres and styles of Earth music."

"Remind me to let you take me down that rabbit hole sometime." He drew up the blanket corner on his side, checking the movie. "Okay, I think the chase is over now, we good?"

She nodded. "We are good."

He stretched the blanket back over their heads to uncover them, sliding his hand comfortably into hers, entwining fingers. He pressed a kiss into her hair and then settled in again, their sides flush against each other's as they returned to their viewing.

[yesterslayed]

I have motivation('t) now... I'm unstoppable!

so, about 14-15 or so days ago (writing this in advance so idk when I'll post this) I made a tape concept involving a play and now I'm here with new stuff about it & I'm here to share and make a full version of this idea but first I must warn a few things:

This will contain spoilers to the official games (1 & 2)

This takes place after the second so it's me assuming what comes next

The characters that aren't canon most likely won't return again outside of a few doodles I do on Bsky or something :/

My English is literal cheeks (despite it being my first language) so expect grammatical errors and weird wording😔

with those major ones out of the way let us move on to the less important things shall we.

The new characters include, Shelly (snail), Peter (parrot) & Octavia (octopus)

This will be an EXTREMELY long yap fest so I might have to split this into 2-3 parts as to keep people from having to take 3 days to finish (and me from having to add Subway Surfers footage here T~T)

there will be head canons here, but I'll try to keep it to a minimum

without further ado let's get into the thingy thing B-)

Riley entered the latch braced for what was to come but as they traveled down the ladder, they had mis stepped and as they dangled from the ladder the ladder fell off its hinges. Riley made it into some kind of secret staff room but tried not to touch anything unnecessarily besides an old closet with a tape called "Let's do a play" but the handwriting was poor but readable they saw a VHS player and sighed as they went to the tv and inserted the tape.

"Hi I'm Amanda." Amanda is seen in a dress sitting by herself on some stairs which leads up to a small stage with blue curtains "I invited some friends to do a play with me but nobody's here yet..." She says turning towards the empty stage we cut to a point of view that shows the stairs & a bit of the stage "And I'm wooly- WOOAAH!" Wooly slides into the scene but then down the stairs. Amanda giggles a bit then asks "Wooly? Are you okay?" Wooly gets up the stairs now slightly bruised and says "Yeah but... Who built these stairs??" He says somewhat annoyed dusting himself off "Well have you seen the others?" Amanda asks, "Umm I think I saw Shelly across the street, so she's on her way, but she might take a while to get here." We cut to the full view of the stage where there's a few props and Amanda & Wooly are now suddenly in the center of the stage. "Can you help us get the play set up?" Amanda asks Riley. Riley nods their head. "Okay I'll get the scripts ready wooly you... Go sit in a corner or something and you get the props ready remember we're going for a house-y theme."

Riley pauses the show to see a miniature stage and a bunch of decorations and sets it to a house-like theme as Amanda had asked and resumes the tape. "Wow nice you sure know how to decorate!" Amanda says with a smile remarking on the nicely set up stage. Suddenly someone appears on the stage "Shelly you're here!" Amanda exclaimed excitedly. "Hello Amanda!" Amanda went to go hug shelly but failed to remember shelly is permanently slimy (she's a snail😔) "Oh. Umm... Maaaybe You should um dry off..." "I can't remember?" "Oh right, right, righ... Wait we have enough people for the first scene!"

"Places everyone!" Suddenly the tape glitches out and we see the whole stage, Shelly is sitting on a couch, Wooly on a director's chair, and Amanda is completely out of sight. "Once Apon a time there was a "grill" I mean uh girl named Susan, and she wanted to "entertane" Uh entertain people and make people happier." "Man, I wish that I could make people happier... Everyone here is very gloomy" suddenly a bunch of noises came from the ceiling and just before riley could turn around a big shadow appeared in front of the screen "Hey who turned out the-" "AAAAAAAAÁ- I mean aaa." AE let out a loud screech and scurried behind the tv. "Oh, the lights are back on we can continue the play." Before they could do anything Chicken scratch (the opossum for some reason has a name now??? Idk tho) steals a leg from the couch making Shelly fall over. (1/3)

Gyatt zam this took a long time hoped you enjoyed part 1 of the play!

I do ask for constructive criticism as I haven't done something this big yet and I think Shelly feels a tad bit out of place and Wooly was a bit out of character, but I think I cooked let me know what y'all think bye for now!

(other info ahead!) time took: 14 or so days (don't ask) Peter and Octavia will be introduced in part 2 but idk if thats final.

[angeart]

felt the need to say that your writing skills are just AMAZING it's such a raw emotions everytime /pos... the way you can notice the small details in every feeling and put it through small actions or emotions or words of a characters is just!! breathtaking really and your writing is sooo smooth and easy to read, not because it's simple, but it takes a huge skill, really, to write about something so complicated in such a easy-to-understand way! i hope you are taking your time to rest with such an amount of things you're creating... surely my favourite writer! also i love your art sooo much... always amazed how you have such a skills for these two almost fully different things !!

-insert sobbing noises-

i don't know how to be coherent here in this reply. i am blue screening, this is so nice and so kind and it makes me feel seen and appreciated and like i'm doing something right? something valuable even maybe???

(now excuse me as i spend a week or two processing that i am someone's favourite writer (sobbing /pos))

i um, jxcbkxncbk

okay deep breath-

i always struggle so much with self doubt (which can then in turn hit hard on the motivation), be it my writing or my art, so encouraging, positive words like these mean so incredibly much. genuinely, thank you so so much for this <3

(an accurate depiction of me rn: )

[dailyhealthhub]

Perfect Sleep Routine: 7 Steps to Fall Asleep Faster & Wake Up Refreshed 😴🌙

🌜 Why You Need a Night Routine

If you're struggling with late-night overthinking, scrolling endlessly, or waking up tired 😩 — it might not be about how long you sleep, but how well you prepare to sleep.

Here’s a simple and effective sleep routine that helps calm your mind and body before bed. 🛌

1️⃣ No Screens 1 Hour Before Bed 📱❌ Turn off phones, laptops, and bright lights. Blue light tricks your brain into thinking it’s still daytime!

2️⃣ Sip Herbal Tea or Warm Milk 🍵🍼 Chamomile, lavender, or sugar-free sleepy blends can naturally calm your system. → Try: [Insert your affiliate tea/supplement here]

3️⃣ Light Stretching or Gentle Yoga 🤸‍♀️🧘‍♂️ Helps release body tension from stress, work, or workouts. Keeps cortisol down.

4️⃣ Journal or Brain Dump ✍️🧠 Write what’s on your mind so you don’t take your stress to bed. Just 5 minutes works.

5️⃣ Read or Listen to Calm Audio 📖🎧 Audiobooks, meditation apps, or soft music signal your body to slow down.

6️⃣ Use Natural Supplements If Needed 💊🌿 Magnesium, melatonin, or herbal blends can help — but don’t over-rely. → Safe option: [Insert affiliate product]

7️⃣ Sleep in a Cold, Dark, Quiet Room 🌌🛏️ Ideal temp is around 18°C / 65°F. Eye mask + white noise helps if needed.

Try the "4-7-8" breathing method before sleep: 👉 Inhale for 4s → Hold for 7s → Exhale for 8s. Works like a natural sedative for many.

[ogsimer2380411]

The Role of Modern Technology in My Life

I could only imagine myself getting by my day-to-day life with technology. In fact, most of my talent and identity are poured into whatever I make on a computer. It may sound like an exaggeration, but part of me believes this is true. Since I was little, I remember having this curiosity about what I could do with the screen in front of me. As a result of years of discovery, these amateur questions of mine turned into a craft not a lot of people can replicate. To give you an example, I want to introduce you to the world of Blender art. 

Blender is a software that specializes in making 3D art. Specifically, it is responsible for modeling 3D meshes, sculpting hard surface models, UV editing different types of topologies, and many more under the 3D workflow apart from making dynamic content like video games. Compared to other forms of art, digital 3D art is a medium that strives to apply complex mathematical equations and understand computer diction that may sound like random noise to common folk. Talent in this craft relies less on skill and more on an individual’s knowledge and patience in absorbing information. It is boring sitting through so many tutorials and reading populated pages in the blender manual, but as a result, we get pictures like the one I made below for my YouTube channel, TheVanillaLog. A collection of artwork made by me in this medium can also be found in this so-called channel, and it has given me an anonymous persona on the internet that people would follow to watch Blender tutorials that involve a toon shader style. Not a lot of people showcase this “2.5D” aesthetic on the internet, so my content covers this niche demand that is only growing much larger as films like “Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse” get more mainstream attention.

In addition to this being a hobby of mine, 3D art has actually been helpful in making some of my presentations in school. If ever I want to insert a cool graphic in a slide, I would make a quick render in Blender using the Cycles engine. Compared to traditional forms of art, it still takes a lot of time and effort. However, it is all worth it just to impress my professor for that class. I even get requests to make something in 3D up to this day from my old teachers no matter how impossible it may be to sculpt it in a 3D medium.

3D art has also been the gateway for me to understand a special field in dentistry known as CAD-CAM. In contrast to traditional practices in medicine, Computer-Aided Manufacturing (CAM) involves the use of 3D software, printers, and technology in making common dental products like casts, dentures, and bridges. I studied this under the supervision of my dad who is a dentist himself, and his help was the reason why I feel that I am ahead of some of my classmates in terms of expertise. This is not being taught by my teachers at university, so it always comes as no surprise when a professor suddenly comes up to me and asks about how common dental software like Blue Sky Bio works. The picture below is a cast I printed in Blender with my name on it. It was a very simple print, but people were impressed with the result, let alone that it came from someone who is my age and has not yet graduated from college.

To summarize, I do not think that I would have the connections and the skill that I have today if it was not for the advent of modern technology. The older generation would be quick to dismiss computers and say that it is rotting the youth, but a part of me thinks that this is going to be the new normal. Just like how normal it is to drive cars to work instead of using horses, computers have become a staple item in people’s households. Its presence does not echo a future to come as much as its absence shouts a sign of someone who is behind the times. We have evolved into something that strays away from past norms, and whether we like it or not, this change is here to stay for a very long time.

[deyaviews]

Aight, here we go!

Content Warnings: some body horror in how the robot body is described

--- --- --- --- ---

Part 1

Sparks were flying. As hot metal joined hot metal, the welding torch lit up the workshop more brightly than the lightbulbs did. The small inferno was reflected within the eyes of the welding mask of the welder on one side and the open ribcage of a metallic humanoid form on the other. Sparks landed on the welder protective suit, leaving marks behind, but doing no harm.

Off to the side of the workshop, a clock turned over from 9:59 to 10:00 and let out a loud, repetitive noise. The welder seemed to ignore it, at first, but the clock appeared to have a different idea. From its sides came spindly legs that unfurled and clicked down onto the desk. It stood up, swaying left to right until the little clock-creature had found its balance, and began to skitter forward. Across the desk, then over its edge, moving in the fashion of a spider. It came to the ground, then skittered towards the welder. It stopped within a few feet of them and started making motions to attract their attention. A pair of lights popped up from its top and started flashing brightly.

After a few moments, the welding torch turned off. The welder put it aside and lifted the mask from her sweating face.

“Hey buddy, is it time already?”

The clock-spider bobbed up and down, not letting up its siren and signals.

“Right. You can turn those off now.”

She took off her thick gloves and the protective suit, emerging from underneath in a flannel shirt with rolled up sleeves underneath a pair of overalls. Her hair was streaks of brown and light green. The only part of her work outfit that remained were steel-toed brown boots.

The humanoid form she had worked on appeared mostly complete, aside from the notable cavity. The arms, legs and head were recognizable in shape, but covered in a layer of cables and wires, like human skin exposed to the veins and nerves beneath. The girl put her hand tenderly on the curved metal forehead of her creation.

“We’re almost there. You still need the most important things, but we’re almost there.”

…

Creating a robot could be very fast or very slow. The fast way involved assembly lines, many highly specialized workers, a lot of capital, a lot of proprietary software, and legislation that made every human hope they weren’t secretly a robot. The slow way involved handicraft, a person with more passion than sense, a great deal of improvisation, and often stolen and hacked software, repurposed, remade, reforged. The legislation barely existed, because only a rare few would even try.

The slow way could take weeks to create a body, months to create a mind, years to risk being behind bars if you had used the wrong corporation’s proprietary parts.

Eliza “Ellie” Frank had been very careful about those risks. She had friends in low places who helped her acquire the exact brain she wanted. The Abby, one that had been scheduled for deletion. And now, she had a body… it’d just need a heart. Skin would come later.

…

Outside the storm raged. It was the perfect moment. Ellie felt fired up by the loud thundering lightning, so reminiscent of the tiny crackles that her work concerned her with. Tiny sparks flew as she inserted cables and attached wires to the glowing blue heart, her own contraption of metal and polymer and glass--and a key piece of data. Gently she placed it snugly within the robot’s body and closed it up. She looked up. A computer screen showed that the data upload of the brain was complete.

“Fuck yes!”

Everything was in place. It just needed energy. A lot of it. Thankfully, the body was relatively light. Ellie heaved it onto her back, the robot’s arms falling over her shoulders.

“Let’s go get you a life.”

She trod up the metal staircase, boots stomping heavily. She needed to get to the rooftop, where everything else was already prepared.

She opened the door to the rooftop. The rain was pouring. Every step made a splash and within moments they were both soaked. She heaved the robot onto the slab she had prepared and attached several clamps at the ends of thick cables to the limbs. As she did, she muttered something to herself. Names. Prayer. A wish to long-gone gods to bestow one last gift upon the world.

Then, as all too soon her wish was granted, lightning fell from heaven in exactly the right place and lit up her vision to unending radiance. And in mirror image of the lightning, Ellie fell, very slowly.

…

Her vision was blue circles and numbers, at first. The bleeps and boops she could register as noises gave way to the rhythmic fall of rain and the distant rolling of thunder before her vision changed to that of speckled grey. The sky. She lift up a hand. It felt heavy. Something tugged down on it. She saw her hand rise above her, a thick clamp attached to it. Instinctively, she reached for it with her other hand and saw that that one also had a thick clamp attached to it. She stared. She tried to formulate thoughts. This situation was new. Everything seemed new, yet the concepts were… known.

She rose up slowly. The rain cascaded over her bare metal form. A few meters away, she saw a body that rose up from a flat surface--the ground?--at the same time. The body stared back at her.

“You’re alive?” The body said.

It started to laugh.

“She’s alive!”

The laughter became erratic. Something in her noted it as cackling. Then the body fell over again, quiet. Exhausted? Dead? Unconscious? One of them. She removed the clamps and stepped off the slab.

…

“Ugh.”

Her vision was black static and red spiky shapes. Her eyes fluttered open and more colours and friendlier shapes became a part of it. The friendliest shape appeared to be that of a wiry face with bright blue eyes.

“Ugh.” The robot greeted back.

“Ahh!”

“Do not be afraid.” The robot said. A piece of built-in data told her that that was something beings in human fiction said to calm them if they were scared of a being’s appearance.

“You’re… you’re alive.” The girl said.

“I think, therefore I am.” The robot said.

“Okay, I am going to need to get you some updated literature.”

“To be or not to be?”

“Can you only quote things directly? And only from public domain material?”

“Lorem… ipsum?”

The girl thought for a moment.

“The removing of some of the corporate software should have been fixed with the other data I added, so this shouldn’t be a structural issue. This is just a content issue, right? You don’t have enough words yet? Am I going to need to provide you with more learning material?”

“I think.” The robot said. “Therefore I am.”

“Right.”

…

The next week was a rush for Ellie. She went back and forth between the workshop and her apartment, hauling with her her laptop and every piece of physical media she could smuggle out. The robot stayed in the workshop, after Ellie very strenuously made it clear how dangerous it would be to leave for now, but that she would be back every day. The robot seemed to accept that.

Halfway through the week, Ellie caught herself in a huge mistake.

“What is your name?” She asked the robot.

“My name?” She looked up from an old comic book about boys holding hands.

“Yeah! In all the excitement of the past few days I completely forgot to ask. I’m sorry.”

“Hm. How would I know my name?”

“Well, you can be named by other people, or you can name yourself. My name is Eliza, but you may call me Ellie. I picked it myself.”

“Ellie… Ellie.”

Ellie smiled.

“Do you have a name for me?”

“Oh, I can give you one, if you like?” Ellie thought for a moment. “It’s a big responsibility to give another person a name. Your brain was called Abby, but maybe you don’t feel like an Abby?”

“Abby…” The robot said. “Abby. Abby!”

Ellie’s smile grew. “Sounds like Abby it is!”

…

Where the fast way to create robots would dunk them into baths of chemicals that would turn into skin rapidly, Ellie’s slow way required her to quite literally paint the layers of materials onto Abby’s metal structure and all over her cables and wires.

“It tickles.” Abby noted.

“I’ve heard it will do that, yeah.” Ellie said. “This material will also conduct some of your signals so you can easily sense through it, like humans do with their own skin.”

“Do I need skin?”

“Well, not necessarily. Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Alright. So, the skin is there partially to help with your senses, but it also allows you to pass as a human when you go outside the workshop. At least, if I don’t fuck it up.”

“Is that important?”

“Passing?” Ellie looked up at Abby’s face. Her chemical brush halted on her thigh. “I don’t think you ever need to pass. It can make things easier, but you don’t need to. There are a lot of robots who don’t pass, even some that aren’t corpo-made, and they live good robot lives. It’s just that some humans will treat them worse because of it. Shitty humans.”

“Oh.”

They were quiet for a few moments as Ellie continued to paint skin onto Abby’s leg.

“You know a lot about robots, Ellie.”

“I do!”

“And you know a lot about humans.”

“I do.”

“And you know a lot about passing.”

“I do…”

Abby sensed something strange within herself at that response. Something stopped her from pushing it. She fell quiet again, calculating a different comment.

“You’re very smart. And very kind.”

Ellie’s cheeks turned pink and she gave a smile again.

“Thank you, Abby.”

Then she returned to painting.

…

“Hey Ellie, can I ask you something?” Abby looked up from her book at Ellie as they sat in a little comfortable lounge area they had set up in the room next to the workshop.

“Yes Abby?”

“I sometimes sense--I feel--this rush of warmth, like a physical sensation, when you look at me. Why is that?”

“Oh, uh, pffft, haha… that’s weird.” Ellie sputtered.

“Do you think something is wrong with my sensors?”

“No! Nothing is wrong with you.”

“But then what is going on with me?”

“That um… it’s your heart.”

“My heart?” Abby looked down at her chest. It made sense. As she did she could feel that familiar rush of warmth again.

“When I made your body, I wanted to make sure that you would know what it’s like to be… to be human. Lots of robots don’t--heck, many humans don’t--so I thought it was, like, a good idea? I did that by making you a literal heart, to like, stand in for a figurative heart.”

“That’s very smart! How does it work?”

“It’s just got a few bits of data about emotional intelligence in there, some old poetry, and uh… my--” Ellie mumbled the rest.

“Your what?”

“My um… my heart rate monitor. They gave me a little heart computer during surgery when I was a teenager, after I had some complications. I… I don’t know, I thought it would be appropriate? Like you’d learn to know about the human heart in a figurative sense by feeling it in a literal sense?”

Abby stared at Ellie. Ellie didn’t look back at her, but Abby still felt warmth. She slid across the couch, closer to Ellie.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

Abby lifted a hand and touched Ellie’s cheek. She felt a shiver underneath her fingertips and a distinct ba-bump within her own chest.

“I am doing science.” Abby said.

“How is this science?”

“I am testing a hypothesis.”

“What hypothesis?!”

“My hypothesis is that if I excite you, then I will get excited too.”

Abby’s fingers grabbed a gentle hold of Ellie’s chin and turned her face towards hers. They were close together. Ellie’s wide eyes stared into Abby’s bright blue bedroom gaze.

“May I kiss you?” Abby asked.

“Wh-what?”

“I may not harm a human, and one must always gain consent. I learned that one from the materials you provided me with. It is for that reason that I ask you: may I kiss you?”

...

←TO BE CONTINUED

>random minute spark of writing inspiration

>it's for a dumb smut story about a robot and its trans girl creator fucking

>we're not doing that, I don't think

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Chapter 12: Recovery

A/N: I finished sitting this so I decided to get it out, because in true ADHD fashion I can’t keep it to myself.

Warnings: Incorrect medical talk (probably.) lots of feels, so much touching in this chapter omg. Probably more ND behaviour (definitely). Erm…feelings *insert Crowley gif here.*

Word Count: 5.4k+

You lost track of the days. Hours shifted, blending into one long continuous run of you worrying about Tech. Tesama stepped right into the breach with Beetoo, the pair of them running the medcentre while you watched monitors and ever changing numbers.

Tech had contracted an infection. It was inevitable really, performing such a drastic surgery in the ship rather than back here where it was clean and sterile. He needed more blood which Hunter and Wrecker seemed more than willing to provide, but you put a stop to that when Hunter accidentally gave too much and nearly passed out in the chair.

They visited whenever they could, checking on you and Tech, usually Omega stayed behind when the others went on missions; her knowledge was invaluable when it came to the clones.

You were stretched. Pushing your own knowledge and experience to the absolute limit even when it came so naturally. You had taken to sleeping on a cot in Tech’s room, your senses attuned to any changes in his breathing or heart rate even without the machines you had him hooked up to.

Right now you were staring at him, wishing he would just open his eyes and look at you with those haloed irises you missed so much. It was late, the medcentre was quiet from the daily hustle and bustle that had become your background noise. The space was lit via the blue screens that showed you everything you needed to know about your patient and how he was doing.

Gently you took his limp hand, wrapping his large fingers around your own and imagining him giving it a squeeze. You could feel how hot he was, but he wasn’t as blazing with a fever as he was a few days ago, it was slowly retreating. Just not quick enough for your liking.

You had kept him in a coma, the life support machine a constant noise in his room and probably the only thing that kept you tethered to this reality. But the fever had dipped and he didn’t need to be in an induced coma anymore, so you could move him to the bacta tank.

He needed to wake up though. Perching your hip on his bed your eyes travelled over all the things that belonged to Tech; his goggles, his tools, his belt hung off the chair, his pack and helmet sat in the corner with the rest of his armour. Hunter had got him a new body suit and armour padding which you’d folded up nicely and stacked next to his pack.

It wasn’t right. None of this was. You squeezed his slack hand and wiped some stray tears off your cheek. You had been walking a fine line before this had happened and now it felt like a tightrope; taught under your feet, cutting into your soles with each step. Your balance was slipping, dragging you one way and then the other, neither ending promising to be happy.

Absently you played with his fingers, putting them against your own and comparing sizes. You loved Tech’s hands, knowing how nimble and sure they were with everything he did; whether it be adjusting the fine circuits in a droid or tapping away on his datapad. You missed hearing his voice, the random facts he loved to share and the calming effect he had on you.

“You know,” your voice cracked from lack of use. “Omega said you need a shave.” She wasn’t wrong, his stubble was growing, casting a dark shadow over his face. “I’ll ask Hunter tomorrow because he needs one too. He’s so worried about you, they’re all worried about you.” You glanced up at him, watching the forced breath in his chest as the life support machine did its job, wishing the life you saw wasn’t artificial. “I wish you’d come back,” you whispered, sucking your lips into your mouth to stop them trembling and looking up at the wall. “I miss you, Tech. No one sees me like you do and I…I need you.”

You searched his expression for a sign, a flicker, anything but got nothing. You fixed your gaze on the screen, noticing his brain activity was still there, the EEG was reading a positive output.

Closing your eyes, you dipped into that well of yourself you’d been avoiding, the one that felt like infinity was at your fingertips. It stretched and flowed, taunting and calling you to fall into it once again. You wouldn’t ever forget the rush it gave you, the exhilaration that this power offered but it scared you senseless. You didn’t consciously know what you were doing with it. It was like someone handing you a fathier and telling you to ride it when you’d never seen one before.

And yet, you delved into it now. It had always been there, slipping into your instincts without you even knowing what was happening. Surging through your hands when you needed it to save someone…anyone but yourself.

Putting your hand over Tech’s you closed your eyes and breathed. You remembered that moment in the Marauder with the Purrgil, the lights that shimmered over you both, Tech’s closeness and his excitement at finally seeing something that fascinated him so much.

You got lost in the muted rhythm of his body, the flow of his blood, the knock of his heart and the billow of his lungs. It was calming, as though you were communicating with him in the only way you knew how.

You put his hand down, withdrawing completely and making your way over to your cot. A sigh was pushed from your body as you looked at the ceiling, drifting a hand over your tired eyes.

Maybe tomorrow would be the day he wakes up.

When you woke, the first thing you sensed was someone else was in the room. Slowly you opened your eyes to find Hunter slumped in the chair beside his brother, chin in the palm of his hand as he dozed. Quietly you got up but it wasn’t quiet enough, his eyes snapped open and you froze.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep.” You checked the monitors, seeing there was no change in Tech’s condition and disappointment filled your chest. So you did the only thing you could do and go through the motions.

“Hi Tech,” you said, forcing a cheery tone into the words. “Hunter is here to see you this morning…” you glanced at him for confirmation and he nodded. “Yes, morning.” You flicked the torch across his eyes, noting a consistent response from his pupils. “No doubt the others will be along later. Echo has been trying fix Beetoo’s charging problems but he can’t find anything in the diagnostic.” Turning the bottom of the cover you exposed Tech’s feet and ran a finger along the sole of his foot, pleased with the toe movement as you did. “Nerves are healing nicely,” you murmured.

“Stitch…” in one word Hunter had asked a thousand questions that had all been asked before.

“We could try today.”

“Yeah?” You caught the look of hope on his face, split between the light and dark of his tattoo and it tugged at your tired heart.

“He needs to wake up so we can get him in the tank. Don’t tell the others.” His gaze dipped, the fall of his mouth spoke disappointment, nonetheless he nodded in agreement.

“They’re taking Omega on a supply run today anyway.”

“If you want to join them I can let you know how it goes?” But Hunter shook his head, eyes on his brother’s prone body as he leaned back in the chair.

“I want to be here when he wakes up.” You couldn’t argue with that.

You let Tesama and Beetoo know you were going to be totally unavailable today and sealed yourself in the room with Hunter and Tech. You turned down the sedation drug and settled yourself in for a wait. These things took time and you were prepared for the wait. Still, you couldn’t just sit, so you walked slowly round the room with your datapad; catching up on the reports and payments from the last few days.

Hunter sat quietly in the chair, his eyes tracking your movement while his fingers toyed with his knife. You heard the movement, the quiet scrape when he unsheathed it and the slight sing in the air as he twirled it amongst his fingers, never dropping it. It was distracting and you could feel yourself getting annoyed, so the next time you walked past him you plucked it easily from his grip.

His hand was still held up in surprise at your swift movement, brown eyes falling on the blade that was now caught between two of your fingers. “Now where did you learn to do that?” His gravelly voice laced with curiosity.

“I can hear it…whistling. If you need to fidget I could find you something to do.” You held out the hilt for him to take and he slipped back into his vambrace with a well practised move.

“We haven’t started your training,” he mused. “That would keep us both entertained.”

“Nice try. Not in here.” He hummed and slumped back in the seat with his arms crossed.

“We could talk. Shouldn’t Tech hear us?” You nodded, your gaze once again on the datapad.

“Ok, how is Omega after the last mission?” You waited for a response but the silence continued on too long and you glanced up to see him frowning at his knees. “That bad, huh?”

“She won’t talk to us,” he admitted.

“She’s been through and seen a lot,” you told him as you carried on your slow walk round the room. “I can try if you’d like?”

“You can try.” The monitor beeped and you stepped up to the bed, pulling the screen to face you.

“He’s waking up! Move!” You’d never snapped at Hunter before and he rose up, dragging the chair at the same time to get out of your way.

You worked on pulling out Tech’s ventilation tube, easing it from his throat and setting it to the side. The alarms rang, such a high pitched whining noise and you felt Hunter approach. Tech choked, his throat had been held open all this time, his body had forgotten how to breathe on its own, he needed to relearn. And fast.

Hunter was behind you, his eyes trained on the screen over your shoulder. You could sense his apprehension, the tightening in his chest at the flatline that traveled across the screen but amidst all that, was trust. He was standing here, not saying a word while his brother seemingly died before his eyes because he trusted you.

At the first faint bleep you both let out a sigh of relief. His vitals began to rise and his chest expanded on its own. Your laugh was almost hysterical, you were on the verge of exploding into action to save this clones life and now you didn’t need to.

Your laughs quickly became sobs as you gripped Tech’s hand. The tension you’d felt since they came home had come to a head and you were letting it out in the only way you knew how.

“He’s going to be ok,” Hunter murmured, his fingers reaching for you in the vain hope you’d let him comfort you.

“I’m e-exhausted,” you managed to get out between the shuddering breaths, moving out of his reach. “I’m not done yet.” Pulling yourself together you coughed, wiping your face and blinking your eyes wide. “He needs to be monitored, he’s still on the painkillers but he’s—he’s breathing on his own. Good heartbeat, brain activity…” you bent over Tech and shone the torch in his eyes, pleased to see a reaction and some resistance to your touch. “Talk to him.” Your voice was still too watery, you didn’t want Tech to wake up seeing you a complete mess.

“Tech? It’s Hunter.” He seemed lost for something else to say and shrugged a little when you looked up at him.

“Talk about the weather, what the time is, where the others are.”

“Right. Well Echo is sick of maintaining the ship by himself. Omega is bored and has memorised everything you’ve given her so far, Wrecker dropped Gonky the other day when he was lifting him. Now the droid is more defective than ever.” Taking a deep breath you swiped at your face, tugging on the tunic you’d worn for, you don’t know how long, and stepped up beside the bed.

“Tech. It’s Stitch.” You saw some activity on his face, a little frown followed by the lightest groan. “Can you squeeze my hand?” You gripped him firmly and waited. Then it came, the flex of his fingers and you nearly cried again. “Good.”

“Yeah?”

“Means he can hear us and he has cognitive function,” you told Hunter. “Which is good, very good.”

“Tech, brother…” for the first time you heard the worry come through in Hunter’s words as he dipped his head. “You had us worried.” As he continued to talk in a low voice you backed against the wall. Using the corner to wedge in like you used to do with Gonky on the ship, squeezing yourself in there tightly and dropping so you could hug your knees close.

More tears fell, you managed to hold back the sobs, just letting the moisture cascade down your face as you listened to Hunter talk to his brother.

“Stitch, his eyes. He opened his eyes.” Thank the Maker.

“That’s good. That’s really good.” Hunter stood up and looked at you over the bed, understanding filling his gaze as soon as he saw you on the floor.

Your heart jumped when a sound came from the bed, a hard groan of someone waking up after a very long sleep. You clocked the movement of his foot, the sharp inhale when he stretched for the first time in days and the flick of his fingers.

“Hunter…” he recognised Hunter. Another thing checked off the list. “I can’t see.” If you weren’t so emotionally ripped up you probably would have laughed. Tech’s immediate reaction was he couldn’t see without his goggles was such a Tech thing, it made you hug yourself tighter.

You watched as Hunter put them on for him, carefully adjusting them so they were just right on his brothers face and sitting the bed up slightly.

“My leg…” Tech moaned.

“Easy now, Tech.” Now you had to move, hoping your face didn’t betray the fact you’d been crying as you wiped it clear of tears. You couldn’t look at him, even as you stood on his injured side with Hunter just behind your shoulder. You took your time updating his records, his eyes tracking your movement as you clicked on the screen and added the details to your datapad. Hinter have him some water and you noted his breathing was a little rushed, he felt apprehensive and you could feel his burning need to know how he was.

“Do you want to know what happened?” You asked quietly, watching his hand fidget with the blanket.

“Yes.” You hesitated, allowing yourself a moment to fall behind your medic mask before you flipped a section of the blanket back to reveal the leg you’d operated on.

“You sustained extensive damage to the break, it was a closed fracture on the femoral shaft that needed to be reduced and fixed in place with metal rods and bolts. When they finally got you to me I had cut open your leg and relieve the hematoma, Hunter and Wrecker both gave you blood at the time as the loss was…a lot.” Your fingers clenched, still the sticky residue tortured your senses. “I managed to reattach blood vessels and nerves and you should regain the full use of your leg. Recovery will be long.” Now you glanced up, to see a grim expression on his face, one that told you he understood everything you’d said and what it meant. “We need to strengthen your muscle, and we’re looking at you being here at minimum, 4 to 5 months.” Hunter puffed out breath, scratching at the stubble on his cheek as he let your words sink in.

“I’m not sure Tech can sit still for that long.”

“Only at first and then I don’t see why he can’t fly the ship for easy missions,” you stressed, pushing a finger into Hunters chestplate before moving away. “I’ll get the tank set up and bring it in.”

Tech had installed repulsors on the tank so you were able to move it on your own. Once you’d set the programme you left Hunter to help Tech get into the tank. You’d picked up on his nervous energy and the way he kept glancing at you out the corner of his eyes, so you suggested you take a break and Hunter agreed.

Your room felt alien. It had only been a few days but it no longer felt familiar and you tried not to dwell on it stepping straight into the refresher. Letting the hot water cascade over your body you tried to empty your mind but all you could think about was Tech’s rehabilitation plan.

You weren’t done yet.

Very quickly your private patient room became Tech’s bedroom. He was building himself a leg brace and you didn’t have it in you to tell him no. It did him good to still use his hands, exercise his mind and it kept him busy.

It was time for his submersion into the tank. He went in every morning for a couple of hours and then you did your obs and checked on his leg. Routine, you always did it in the same order so he didn’t have surprises. Even now you were stood outside his room, waiting for the time to tick over the last minute.

It concerned you how much his body reacted your presence, you put it down to nerves about going in the tank. You had to touch him, help him and you wouldn’t have found it comfortable if you were in his position.

The door opened and you breezed in finding him sat on the edge of the bed as he waited for you. Instantly you noticed the way his hand jerked away from his thigh, planting on the bed and fisting on the covers as he glared at the wall. He was stripped down, ready for immersion into the bacta.

“Good morning,” you said, eyeing the screen beside his bed. No temp, good heart rhythm, nothing worrying at all. “Are you ready?” You pressed the buttons on the tank, turning to glance at him over your shoulder.

“Yes,” he replied stiffly. As you approached the monitor beeped to alert you to a change in his heartbeat and he stared at it like it had betrayed him. “I am still not accustomed to being touched in such a way.”

“I am just your medic, Tech.”

“You are more to me than just a medic.” Oh.

“I can get Tesama…”

“No. I would rather it was you.” You weren’t sure what to do with what he’d just told you. Putting down the datapad you relied on all you had left, routine. Slipping your arm around his bare body, feeling his arm over your shoulder as you wrapped your fingers against the curve of his side and you felt his inhale; desperately trying not to flinch away from you.

He hopped on one leg, grimacing as he did, little grunts of pain falling from between his clenched teeth until he slipped into the warm bacta. His relief was palpable when you stopped touching him, going to retrieve his breathing mask.

“Two hours and I’ll be back.” He nodded, handing you his goggles, eyes going wide as his vision deteriorated instantly. You wanted to comfort him, seeing the way his hands were moving in the fluid as he tried to find something to fiddle with. “Oh!” He glanced at you watching as you fished around in the pocket of your tunic and pulled out a puzzle box. “Omega found this on a supply run and she asked me to give it to you but I kept forgetting. It should keep you busy in the tank.” You tapped the screen. “I see you don’t sleep.”

“I find it hard to make my brain relax in such an environment. My mental knowledge, regretfully, only stretches so far and I have recounted everything I know at least 10 times already.” His fingers flexed, grateful to have something to do.

“Let’s get this on,” you encouraged gently. His eyes went even wide as you leaned in, settling the mask in place and pressurising it to his face with a soft hiss. “Two hours.”

As you were closing his door Tesama peered round the corner. She looked slightly concerned and you tilted your head. “Out with it.”

“Well, there’s another one of those clones here. He won’t let me near him, demanding you.”

“Which one?” You asked checking the readings from Tech’s tank one final time before heading to the bays.

“He says his name is Echo.” Your steps hurried. Echo hardly ever came in here and he was the one who if anything went wrong, it could be catastrophic. “He’s in your office.” She dropped away as you entered, seeing Echo on the bench in your office. He seemed all in one piece, just a scowl adoring his brow, his sense of agitation was making your skin tingle and you gently put the datapad down.

“Echo.” He flinched at the sound of your voice. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s…” the scowl deepened and he looked away from you. The feeling from him changed subtly and that’s when you discovered, he was embarrassed.

“Take your time,” you said gently. “I know this must be difficult for you.” He huffed, his pale gold eyes finally shifting in your direction.

“I feel like a di’kut.” You sat in the chair, turning it round to face him as you waited for an explanation. You could sense he was in good health, the rhythm of his blood was steady, the sense of his aura was strong and not flickering. “I have sand,” he blurted out.

“Sand?” You queried, that was the last thing you’d excepted.

“Sand. In places I don’t want sand.” It took you a few moments to understand what he was saying and you looked down at his scomp. He tried to spin it only for it to get stuck after a couple of rotations.

“Anywhere else?” He gestured with his hand, encompassing his back and legs.

“I can feel it in all the—sockets. I didn’t know where else to go,” he confessed quietly, a blush rising on his pale cheeks.

“Stay here.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” he grumpily mumbled, crossing his arms. You went outside and collared Beetoo.

“If you had sand in your joints would an oil bath get rid of it?” You asked her quietly.

“For a droid, an oil bath is the best form of ridding debris.”

“Thanks Bee.” You busied yourself in the storage room, trying to find a container that would hold enough oil for Echo to bathe his legs. Finally you found one, activating the portable repulsers so you could drift it back to your office once you filled it up. You also grabbed a load of brushes and other tools not really sure how you were going to get the rest of the sand out of him.

He eyed you suspiciously when you guided the small tank in, scowling so deeply you wondered if the lines were going to become permanent.

“What’s all this?”

“You asked for my help,” you stated. He leaned back on one leg as you moved the bench away from the wall and putting it in the middle of the room. The repulsers switched off and you adjusted it all to where you thought it should be. “Ok. Strip off.”

“Strip?!” He looked so shocked you nearly giggled.

“Echo. I need to access the ports so I can clean them out. You need to immerse your legs in the oil and your scomp. It’s going to be uncomfortable but there is no other way.” You understood his hesitation, he hated anything thing like this and you were demanding he bare all the things he hated about himself to you. To be touched, meddled with, to be explored in ways he never wanted to again.

“This is the only way?”

“I’m afraid so. If you don’t want me to do it I could ask Beetoo…”

“No!” His hand and scomp went up, his pulse throbbed and you stopped talking. “No droids.”

“Let me know when you’re ready and we can begin.” You picked up the datapad, turning your body away so weren’t watching him. You checked on Tech, happy to see his numbers were more relaxed this time, the puzzle box clearly helping him settle. You heard Echo remove his kama, the utility belt dropping and the griptions loosening as he shed his armour. He looked hopefully at you but you gave him a slow shake of your head, you needed his padding off and he knew it. The sigh was resigned, if you could have seen it you were sure it would have been like a durasteel weight leaving him but he began to take it off anyway.

“Now what?” His voice wavered slightly and you made your face expressionless. You’d never seen Echo so bare before and the true nature of his remaking became apparent. It was barbaric. If only you’d been there when he’d been freed…the devastation would have been less.

“Step into the tank, and sit down. I will warn you about any moves I make and if anything feels uncomfortable or wrong, please tell me.” He gave you a curt nod. His eyes were dull, trying to hide his discomfort but it was coming off of him in suffocating waves. As soon as he was settled you approached him some tools and you saw him recoil a little. “I’m going to work on your scomp first, then we can bathe that too. Ok?”

“Mmhmm.” You were gentle as you reached for him. Echo turned his face away, closing his eyes as tremors of apprehension rippled through his feelings, the worry that you would be repulsed from him followed by surprise when you didn’t flinch.

You ran a practised eye over his cybernetics, seeing where the problems were and you got to work on trying to dig out the grains. It was gruelling, and you stayed tapped into his feelings as you worked; making sure you weren’t hurting him. Sand worked free from some of the mechanism and you asked him to spin it, seeing the movement was much freer. You asked him to submerge the scomp in the oil before moving round behind him.

His entire back tensed as you looked at what had been done to him. Black sockets ran down his spine and you felt a wave of rage that someone thought they had the right to do this to another living thing.

“Are you ok with me touching you, Echo? I need to brush these out.”

“Got no choice,” he muttered gruffly. “Just do it.” He was hunched over, holding his head in his hands as you started. The brush did wonders for dislodging the looser grains, hearing it hiss free was so satisfactory.

“I’m going to blow, on it,” you warned him quietly.

“Mmm.” His entire body tensed, muscles bulging as you carefully blew across his skin and swept away any stray grains before moving onto the next socket. By the time you’d reached the back of his neck your arms were protesting but you needed to finish. In this time he had relaxed, arm lowered and his face not so tortured as he got used to the contact. Still you communicated with him, letting him know everything you were doing in a calming voice that he listened to. His feelings settled, they weren’t so volatile anymore and you raised an eyebrow when you blew across his pale skin, sensing a change in his demeanour.

“Was that ok?” You asked. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” He refused to elaborate with a jut of his chin, fixing his glare on the wall so you decided not to probe any further. Tenderly you dusted your fingers over the spread of his shoulders, noticing the hitch his breath as you did.

“I’ve done what I can, a quick shower should rid you of any stray bits. Let’s check your scomp.” He lifted it free of the oil and you wiped it clean. Echo gave it a spin, his face breaking out in a hopeful smile as it moved without hindrance. “Standup, legs next.” He leaned on you, his hand clutching at yours as you took some of his weight until he was free of the oil bath. You went to wipe down his legs but he grabbed the cloth, making you look up at him.

“I-I can do it.” He refused to look at your face, the telltale blush once again rising on his cheeks and you backed up. Turning round you grabbed the datapad.

“Echo, I need to get Tech out of the tank.”

“I’ll be ok,” he told you a sense of relief injecting into his words.

“Be back in a bit. Then you can visit him.” From one clone who didn’t like being touched to another who panicked when you entered the room. Tech had already opened the top of the tank and was sitting up as he waited for you. “I’m sorry! Echo came in with an issue.”

“Echo? What is the issue?” You grabbed a towel, letting Tech lean on you as the bacta dropped off his chiselled body. Quickly you wrapped him up, stopping him from shivering as you ran your hand up and down his arms. “Stitch?”

“Oh,” your thoughts dissipated and you looked up him, seeing the way his gaze dilated when your eyes locked for a second before he broke the connection. “Yeah, Echo is ok. He said he’ll come and visit you when you’re ready.” Tech hobbled over to the bed with your help, the pain much less this time. “Do you want me to towel dry your hair?”

“Yes.” You didn’t think much of it as you reached for a smaller towel, but when you started your senses heightened. He smelled like the bacta, fresh and healing; the heat of his body came through the material and you slowed your hands to really make sure his rich chestnut locks were dry. You tapped into his feelings, noticing the way his heart rate was accelerating once again. It made you sad that he was so anxious from your touch even though you understood. Most of the time you couldn’t bare the idea but here, now, with Tech; you wanted nothing more than to feel him.

It hurt. Withdrawing yourself you quickly finished, absently drawing your fingers through his hair. Even damp you appreciated the softness of it, catching the stray stands and nudging them back to how he liked it. The colour was glorious, almost fiery in some lights, a deep rich hue in others. In all lights he shone for you. The rush of emotion you felt for him almost caught you off guard, sweeping around you like a soft embrace and you worked quickly to untangle yourself from it.

So wrapped up in what you thought were your own emotions you missed the way Tech’s eyes widened dramatically at the feel of your fingers in his hair as he looked at his covered knees. “There. That’s the best I can do.” You announced, stepping back. You rolled the wet towel up and placed his clothes and goggles on the bed next to him. You were about open the door when he called your name.

“Hmm?” He looked a little flustered, his eyes darting about as he adjusted his goggles with his graceful fingers and you fixated on the motion.

“I appreciate…you. You are good at your job.” You hitched up a smile but it didn’t reach your eyes.

“It helps you’re such an easy patient. Get dressed and then you can catch up with Echo.” The door opened and then slid closed behind you.

Ducking into your room for a moment you closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath. You had no idea why Tech’s words had made your stomach twist back on itself; maybe because you hoped he was going to say something else? It was ridiculous really, no one could force someone to have feelings and his clearly didn’t reach the level that yours did.

[j-eryewrites]

The Dancing Men (II)

Part 16 of The Arbitrary Lives of the Occupants of 221B Baker Street

Previous | Next

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Word Count: (9.1k)

Author’s Note: Is this a filler chapter...? yes. Is this chapter over 9 thousand words...? yes. (This was also a chance to explore other characters besides Sherlock, John, and Y/N) 

Also, I did not realize the dancing men code did not insert the last chapter, so I went back an added that. (Thought it might be fun for yall to figure out the code alongside Sherlock.)

Warnings: Drug usage, mentions of drugs, murder, descriptions of blood and injuries, Sherlock is Sherlock (let me know if I have missed anything)

Everything was in place: buttery popcorn, fluffy blanket, lights dimmed down low, and the chosen movie on the television screen. Bjørn sat cozied up on Y/N’s lap. His brown fur was a stark contrast to the white light blue blanket on her lap. Across from the two of them was John. His back was relaxed as he sank into the soft cushion of Y/N’s couch. All worries of the workday were forgotten as they dived into the latest choice for their movie night. 

Bjørn quite enjoyed these evenings. One, John was present and Bjørn liked John very much. Second, Y/N was holding him close and petting his fur; an action the cat loved. Third, Sherlock was nowhere to be found. Bjørn remembers the first movie night they held and, unfortunately, Sherlock had been invited to that, until he predicted how the entire movie would play out, so then John had heroically banned the man from movie nights. 

Mrs. Hudson, one of Bjørn’s favourite people, would occasionally be invited to the movie nights, but those were only the rom-com nights. The cat could easily recall the woman’s fondness of the romance genre from all the soap operas and romance films she watched while watching over Bjørn for the night. Bjørn didn’t mind the sappiness of the movies at all because he was well rewarded by Mrs. Hudson with treats and baked goods that were only meant for pets. 

Bjørn purred as Y/N reached over to grab the remote to play the movie. His owner had heard of the movie from word of mouth. It was something called “The Eyes of My Mother.” Apparently, it was scary good or at least that’s what Y/N had mentioned when telling John. 

Tonight was horror movie night. It was one of two genres both Y/N and John enjoyed watching together. Bjørn preferred horror movie nights. It meant that the people in the room would be fighting to find comfort from the cat as the jump scares and loud scary noises crept up in the scenes on the screen. Bjørn liked to provide comfort. He loved to protect those he loved. Which was why the cat was glad Sherlock was not here. There was something about that man that Bjørn didn’t like. Maybe it was the way his black hair bounced atop his head. No one should have that dark of curls. It could have been the piercing blue eyes that reminded Bjørn of a predator or the man’s peculiar aura. Bjørn could see auras and there was something strange about Sherlock's.

The movie had begun. The two humans in the room jumped at certain jump scares. Bjørn was almost knocked off Y/N’s lap at one point. The cat began to wonder if it would be safer to sit on John’s lap, so eventually he crawled out of his seat on his owner's lap and settled onto John’s. John welcomed the warmth and comfort that Bjørn presented. In trade for the cat, Y/N got the popcorn bowl. The woman was forced to, instead, find comfort in the plastic bowl that carried the buttery goodness. 

Bjørn had just settled into his seat on John’s lap (well, of course, the man had an excellent lap) when he felt a petulant buzzing from underneath him. The movie was quickly paused and Bjørn cracked open his eyes to watch Y/N and John search for the noise. Bjørn contemplated helping them search and putting an end to the noise, but the source was soon found under the mound of blankets. 

Once uncovered,  a horrendous ringtone began to play from John’s phone. A ringtone that he had set years prior, that he meant to change but just never got around to it. John retrieved his phone and Bjørn caught sight of a pellicular look on the man’s face. 

“Hello?” John answered. 

Bjørn, with his excellent hearing, could make out the sound of a woman’s voice. Now, the cat hadn’t gotten used to the British accent. While the cat could understand Mrs Hudson, John, and reluctantly Sherlock, everyone else was a mystery. He blamed his understanding of the human language and the voice of those who found a home in 221B to be a matter of proximity. He willingly got used to John and Mrs. Hudon’s voices. He loved Y/N’s. Sherlock’s? Well, Sherlock’s was like screeching. Bjørn hated it. He hated everything about the man. Hate wasn’t a strong enough word. Bjørn loathed Sherlock entirely. 

“Hello, is this John Watson?” The voice asked over the phone. 

John’s face turned to shock. He was surprised to hear a voice he hadn’t heard in years. It belonged to one Kate Whitney. An old friend of his sister’s (and the girl he dated in his Secondary Educational years, but John prefers to use “a friend of his sister”.)

“Kate?” John asked.

“John? Oh, thank heavens! I don’t know what to do John!” Kate cried to him over the phone. 

John waited for Kate to finish talking. 

“It’s about Isa. He hasn’t been home for about two days and I’m getting worried. I heard from your sister that you were working with that detective now…” She sobbed. 

Isa Whitney. Right. Kate’s husband. Also an old friend from Secondary School. Bjørn looked up at John. The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as Kate cried over the phone. Bjørn’s ears began to hurt from the whining. 

In the back of John’s mind, he knew what Kate was going to ask next the second Sherlock had been mentioned. So John took the preemptive step to ask if she knew where her husband would be. 

Kate answered immediately. “The opium den on the east side of the city. At a place called Bar of Gold on Upper Swandam lane.”

Bjørn could feel John’s actions before they came and the cat regretted choosing to find a seat on John’s lap. The cat quickly hopped off and back onto Y/N’s lap just as John’s body groaned. John’s muscles expanded and contracted shooting into motion as he stood up to fetch his things by the door. 

Kate was overjoyed. “Oh, John. Thank you! I would go myself but that place is not safe for a woman like me.” 

Of course, Kate continued to ramble on as John grabbed his keys and stumbled down the stairs and out of 221B. 

“Yes…Kate…” John tried to conclude the conversation. “I’ll have to…Kate…”

Now, John liked to think that he was a kind man. If one compared John to his friend Sherlock, he would most definitely be the “kinder” out of the two of them. John made sure to thank Mrs. Hudson whenever she brought up tea for him and Sherlock and apologize to others (clients, police officers, Greg, Y/N, Bjørn) whenever he could. Since John made the active choice to be kind, he found himself having a hard time saying no. Well, unless it was Sherlock. Sherlock was easy to say no to. 

Even with this kindness that has seeped deep into John’s bones, he knew he had to end the call soon. While Kate was talking, John cleared his throat and spoke up. “Kate. I’ll go out to find Isa. I’ll bring him home. Got to go.” Without another word, the phone call was over. 

As John tugged on his jacket and shoes by the door. Once he was all set, he turned around to Y/N to apologize. He mentioned she could continue the movie, but the woman refused and insisted on waiting for him to return to finish it. Bjørn could sense the man began to feel guilty about the whole scenario and seemingly so could Y/N.

“John, go. Help your friend. I’ll be fine,” Y/N reassured. 

That’s all it took for John to bid goodbye and leave 221B in search of Isa Whitney. Bjørn hopped up from Y/N’s lap once more and settled on the section of the couch John once sat on. The cat was not content with the idea of being thrown off another lap. As if on cue, Y/N stood up from the couch and moved to the kitchen to make herself some tea. Once the water was boiled and the tea poured, Bjørn watched his owner pick up her phone. 

Y/N scrolled through her phone looking for a worthy distraction. Of course, she could just find something else to watch, but it felt wrong. Instinctively her finger found itself drifting to the messages. There were two messages from Jim asking about their date later that week. She hovered over the messages reading them over and over again, before sending a short reply confirming the time. 

Part of her felt bad. Jim was her boyfriend after all. However, there was something deep within her that wanted someone else. It was a secret she could never admit to herself for fear of the emotions coming up front and centre displaying for all to see. Those very emotions the man in question would sense in an instant. That very man she found herself calling. The phone rang. It rang. Then it stopped. Sherlock’s voice box message played over the speakers and then Y/N hung up. 

She groaned and dropped her head into her hands. She needed to stop. Sherlock was out for a business trip, whatever that was. She and John didn’t press, but Y/N began to think she should have. She missed him. Her finger tightened around the roots of her hair. This was bad. She missed Sherlock. Missing someone was the step just before you had to come clean with yourself; because you could only miss someone if you cared for them. 

_______

It wasn’t the first time John had been called to help Kate. He was well aware of her and her husband’s troubles. At first, Kate had gone to Harriet, John’s sister, until she realized that Harriet and Isa shared similar afflictions. As one does with comfort, Kate found someone who was in a similar boat as her; that someone had to be John Watson.

At the beginning of John’s journey, he hadn't had much of an issue finding a cab that would take him to Upper Swandam Lane. Although he got a few judgemental looks from his cab driver on the way to the location. When John did arrive at the street, that was when things started to take a turn. 

Upper Swandam Lane was a vile place to be. It was an alleyway that lurked behind the high wharves on the north side of the river just to the east of the London Bridge. The alleyway itself was between a slop shop and a gin shop. There was a set of stairs that John had to climb up to reach the alley. There was litter, burnt-up cigarette butts, and mysteriously gooey substances that adhered to the ground. Overall a place that screamed germs, something that just so happened to be a doctor’s worst nightmare. 

As John trekked up the stairs, he was glad that he had chosen to wear his thick boots. He’d prefer it if he didn’t end up with a contaminated needle stuck in his foot. The further John walked through the alley the more addicts he had to step over. People who had come for the high were now suffering the after-effects as they lay on the ground. John’s eyes carefully scoured the area looking for the familiar face of Isa Whitney. 

Eventually, John reached a wooden door. Above the door was a flickering lamp that only added to the alley’s chilling ambience. John could hear the sounds of muffled voices, laughter, and cheers from the other side of the door. He thought it over and assumed that it’d be best to try his luck inside the building. As John reached for the door handle, he prayed that Isa Whitney would be in there. 

The door creaked open to reveal a long, low room. The air was thick and heavy with the smoke of opium and other drugs. The lights were gloomy as they tried to shine through the dark smog. Through the gloom, John could make out figures of all sizes and shapes. They were all lying in strange poses as they all turned their heads to glance at the newcomer. Scattered amongst the haze were little red circles of light at the end of metal pipes. Occasionally a figure would reach out for the pipes and lift it to their lips before inhaling. 

There was a hushed conversation in the building as John made his way around the room in search of Isa. As luck would have it, John found the man. Isa was in the back of the room. He sat on a three-legged stool with his back hunched over a pipe. His fists were clenched tightly around the object as he raised his arms up to shakingly bring the pipe to his mouth. 

John tried to make quick work of reaching Isa but was stopped numerous times along the way. Attendants and other addicts would offer him a smoke or try to lead him in another direction in their delirium. 

“No thank you,” John would reply before returning to his chosen path. Eventually, the crowd and temptation grew too much, so John called out to Isa. “Isa Whitney!” The room fell silent and the people around John drew back from the man. Like the parting of a sea, the crowd moved and John eased his way over to Isa. 

Now that John was closer to Isa and without the presence of the smog, John’s eyes could see clearly the state of the man. Isa was in a haggard state. His eyes narrowed so that they were tiny slits. His clothes were wrinkled and dishevelled. There were even a few brown spots scattered across, what John assumed, was once a white button-up. Isa lifted his head to peer up at John. 

There was a moment of silence before Isa spoke. “My God! It’s John!” Isa said. The man’s demeanour completely changed. There was a spark of life in his eyes as Isa took sight of John’s face. “Why are you here?” The man spoke joyfully. 

John tried to take in a deep breath, but from the smoke, he ended up entering a coughing fit. Once John had collected himself and once Isa stopped hysterically laughing. John explained his appearance. 

At the mention of his wife, Kate, Isa’s expression paled. “John…what time is it?” Isa hesitated. His once joyful expression was now one of guilt and worry. 

“It’s nearly eleven at night,” John said. 

“...What day?” Isa continued with his questions. He seemed more and more sober the longer John and him spoke. 

“Friday, October 19th.” 

Isa dropped the pipe from his hand and started patting his body up and down as if he was looking for something. “No–It’s Wednesday. It is Wednesday,” he phrased it more like a question than a statement.

John sighed and shook his head. “It’s Friday.” He pulled out his phone to show Isa the date. Again Isa paled at the sight. “Your wife, Kate, has been worried sick. Isa, you should be ashamed of yourself.” 

Isa narrowed his eyes at John in disbelief. “I’ve only been here a few hours…I’ve only had two–four, no six pipes? I forgot how many…” Isa began to trail off as he wondered about how many pipes he had smoked. 

Before Isa could spiral any further, John reached for the man’s arm and yanked him up to his feet. “Let’s get you back home,” John muttered before lugging Isa to the door. 

Isa stumbled into John, nearly knocking him over as they scuffled over to the exit. “I’ll go with you, John,” Isa said as he wrapped an arm around John before leaning his entire body weight on John. 

John grumbled as he tried to get solid footing underneath Isa. 

“Kate must be so frightened–poor little Kate…my love.” Isa gazed off into the distance thinking about Kate. 

By some miracle, John had led Isa out of the building and the two of them were now walking down the alleyway back to the street. 

“John! Give me your hand!” Isa exclaimed. 

John cried out as Isa lunged for his hand and was now holding it hostage. “Isa!” 

Isa ignored John’s outcry. “Do you have a cab?” 

“Yes, Isa. I have a cab.”

“Good!” Isa squeezed John’s hand. “I owe you, John. I owe you!” 

“Yes. I heard you the first time, Isa,” John said. 

Then John continued to lead Isa out of the alley and to the cab that was waiting for them. The alleyway seemingly got darker the longer they walked. It was a narrow lane that made it hard for two grown men to walk side by side. In turn, John walked behind Isa making sure that the man didn’t trip over his feet or stop moving forward. 

Even though they were outside and no longer in that horrific building, John felt his lungs begin to burn from the smoke. He found it hard to breathe. Instead, John took to holding his breath. He deemed that it would be better to not breathe in the smog than to breathe at all. That was until he heard a voice speak to him. It was a voice that was too low to have ever come from Isa. 

John reluctantly took his eyes off of Isa and looked around the alleyway when the voice spoke again. 

“Walk past me, and then look back at me.” 

John froze before doing as the voice said. He turned around and looked down. His brown eyes fell upon a tall figure hunched over. There was something familiar about how the figure on the ground sat. John would have expected someone who sat upon the vile ground of Upper Swandam Lane to not sit with an air of arrogance. 

The whole scenario piqued John’s curiosity. He found himself leaning over and getting a closer look at the man who had spoken to him. It took all of John’s self-control to not grab the man and cry in astonishment. 

It was Sherlock Holmes. The man who had told both Y/N and John that he’d be away for a business trip. Sherlock turned his head so that John could see him clearly now. There was no doubt about it. There were the striking blue eyes that seemed to glow in the dark of the alley, the curly black hair, and that wicked smirk. 

“Sherlock!” John harshly whispered. “What on earth are you doing here?!” 

Sherlock rolled his eyes at his friend’s concern. “Speak as quietly as you can. I have excellent hearing. Also, get rid of that…” Sherlock turned his head to look at Isa who was now leaning up against the wall of the alley. “...friend of yours. Then I’ll talk.” Sherlock said it with such pompousness that John scoffed. 

John was considering just leaving Sherlock there and taking Isa back, but then John thought of Y/N. He knew he wouldn’t be able to face the woman without spilling the news about Sherlock. 

“I have a cab, Sherlock,” John whispered. 

“Good. Send him home in it.” Sherlock’s eyes flashed with disgust as he looked Isa up and down. “He won’t do anything mischievous. He appears to be limping to hold his own body weight up.”

“Which is why I should make sure that he gets home!” 

Sherlock tsked. “Quietly John.”

John pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. This was a moment where he should have said no. He should have taken Isa home in the cab. John should have arrived back at 221B and then spilt the news about Sherlock to Y/N. That’s what any good friend should do when they find someone they care about in a compromising position. But John knew Y/N had too much to worry about. He was her friend too. John clenched his jaw tightly before huffing in agreement. This time, he’d agree with Sherlock. He’d save Y/N some worry. It was the least he could do. 

It was surprisingly easy to place Isa Whitney in the confinement of the cab before sending him on his way back home to his wife Kate. Out of courtesy, John texted Kate telling her that her husband was on his way home in a cab. As John finished the message, Sherlock appeared beside him. 

The two of them didn’t speak a word as Sherlock led John down the street. It seemed the two of them were going for a stroll. The longer the silence progressed, the longer John grew worried. He knew of Sherlock’s addiction. The nicotine patches. The side comments from Mycroft offered a brief picture of Sherlock’s past. 

About two streets later, Sherlock stopped moving and let out a light chuckle. John whipped his head around to look at Sherlock like he was insane. (Although, John did think that Sherlock was partially insane most of the time). 

“I suppose, John, “ Sherlock said. “You’re imagining that I have added opium smoking to my nicotine patches.”

John’s jaw was slack and his eyes wide at his friend’s words. “What the hell were you doing there Sherlock?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Sherlock replied. 

John placed his hands on his hips and stared at Sherlock. “I came to find a friend.”

Sherlock raised his brows letting John know that he already knew that. “I came to find an enemy,” Sherlock stated. 

John was unimpressed. The last ‘enemy’ of Sherlock’s that John had met was his brother. It was more likely that the said enemy was someone else from Sherlock’s past. A cousin, a friend, another relative of some sort. “An enemy?” 

“Yes; one of my natural enemies.” Those words from Sherlock’s mouth sealed the deal in John’s mind. This was another Mycroft situation. “John,” Sherlock continued, “I am in the middle of a case and I hoped that I could find a clue from the incoherent ramblings of these addicts. Something I have done before.”

“What case, Sherlock? Cause if I remember correctly, Y/N knows about every case you take and she made sure that you’d be free so you could go on this business trip.”

It seemed like the mention of Y/N’s name ticked off something in Sherlock because the man began to walk again ignoring John’s question. 

John sighed. “What case, Sherlock?!”

“Follow me, John!” Sherlock called out as his long legs took him farther and farther away from John. 

_____

It seemed like the place Sherlock took John was back to Baker Street. How the two of them walked all over London to get back to their flat that late at night astounded John. He was sure how exhausted he was feeling while watching the horror movie with Y/N that he’d have enough energy to travel all the way back home physically. He knew Sherlock had the energy. The man seemed to have a never-ending reserve of energy. 

Once the black door of 221 B Baker Street closed, Sherlock began to strip off his coat and scarf. He marched up the stairs with a passion beckoning John to follow. John winced as the stairs creaked loudly underneath his and Sherlock’s steps. If Y/N and Mrs. Hudson weren’t already awake, then they would be now. 

“Sherlock!” John hissed at his friend. He was careful of his own volume. 

Sherlock turned around to John as he flung his coat and scarf on the hanger by the door. 

John stood expectantly in the doorway. His hands crossed over his chest as if he was urging Sherlock on for an explanation that was due long ago. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes before answering John. “A few years ago, a man named Neville St. Clair came to London. Not long after he got married to the daughter of a local brewer, someone he has two children with now. I have been told that he’s a good husband and affectionate father and that the family is in a good financial situation. This means that there is no reason for him to be worried about his family or money troubles.”

John pursed his lips and raised a brow at Sherlock. In all honesty, John had no idea where Sherlock was going with this. 

Sherlock tilted his head as he remembered something. Suddenly he pulled out his phone to show John a photo of Neville. John peered at the picture. Neville was a man with flaming red hair and sad-looking eyes. His face was filled with freckles and covered every inch of skin. Yet the thing that drew John’s attention the most was the long scar that ran from the tip of Neville’s forehead down to his chin. 

“Last Monday,” Sherlock continued, “Neville went into town to run a few errands. Meanwhile, Mrs. St. Clair had her lunch near Upper Swandam Lane. Afterwards, she did some shopping, and at exactly 4.35, she was walking back through Swandam Lane on her way back home. Are you following me, John?

John’s brow raised higher as he continued to stare at Sherlock. He still had no clue as to why a certain Nevill and Mrs. St. Clair had anything to do with a case. In fact, John was positive that there was no case. 

Sherlock took John’s silence as a yes, so he proceeded. “If you remember, Monday was a cold day, so Mrs. St. Claire took extra care in looking for a cab. While she was walking around Swandam Lane she heard a loud cry from above her. She saw her husband frantically waving at her from an opening in the window. She also described him as being terribly agitated before a force from behind him tore him away from the window. She tried running after her husband and soon found herself in the same building you were in tonight. She tried making her way up the stairs but was stopped by an attendant and forced back out onto the street. Filled with fear and concern, the woman called the police.”

John finally took a step forward and closed the door behind him. His intrigue was piqued. 

“They arrived and searched the place but there was no sign of him there. In fact, there was no one to be found. The police were determined that Mrs. St. Clair had been delusional. That was until they stumbled upon a watch that belonged to Neville. Mrs. St. Claire confirmed that it was her husband based on the engraving on the inside of the watch. After further inspection, the police found some blood as well as all the clothes of Neville St. Clair. There were no signs of violence and there were no more signs of Neville. According to witness accounts, the last one to see Neville St. Clair was a man named Hugh Boone.”

By now John was sitting in his chair. His hand rested underneath his chin as he watched Sherlock pace back and forth as he recounted the information about the case. 

“Boone is a professional beggar. He claims that he was not the last one to see our missing man. Detective Gavin–”

“Greg,” John corrected. 

“-searched Boone and found traces of blood on his clothes, but the man told Lestrade that it was from a cut on his hand. One that was still bleeding. An injury from the window, where the traces of the blood had been found. Lestrade also took the opportunity to have the nearby area checked. Neville’s coat was found in an alleyway. Inside the pockets was the man’s wallet.”

“So then where’s the body?” John asked. He was sure that finding all of Neville’s clothes and blood but no wallet meant that the man was dead.

“There was nobody, John.” There was a sparkle in Sherlock’s eye as he said it. “However, Boone was arrested and taken to Scotland Yard, but there was nothing against him. The blood had been his own. The only thing that could be used as evidence were Neville’s clothes, but even so, that is substantial enough.”

Everything clicked in John’s brain. “That’s why Y/N didn’t know you had a case. Greg called you himself.” 

Sherlock halted his pacing and looked at John. John was right of course, so Sherlock nodded. 

Now that John was satisfied with that answer he asked another question. “Why was Neville St. Clair was at an opium den and what does Hugh Boone have to do with the disappearance?”

Sherlock smiled at John. “Now you’re asking the right questions.”

“Sherlock…” John began to fiddle with his hands. “Do you think Neville is dead?”

“Yes–” 

Suddenly there was a banging on the door downstairs. John and Sherlock made their way downstairs. It seemed like the knocking had woken up the other residents of 221B for Mrs. Hudson and Y/N were peering out of their doorways at the noise. Mrs. Hudson was in more of a dazed state than Y/N with her overnight hair curlers and cosy pink pyjamas. The elderly woman’s tired eyes quickly acknowledge John and Sherlock making their way down the stairs. Satisfied with what she saw, Mrs. Hudson crept back into her flat and shut the door. 

Y/N, on the other hand, seemed to grow more conscious the longer she looked at the scene in front of her. She thought that her mind was tricking her. It couldn’t be Sherlock. Could it? Sherlock caught sight of the woman from the corner of his eye. He could help how his brain tuned out the sound of the banging door to look at Y/N. 

She had that same tired look in her eye as she did when she slept over in his flat. Her hair was slightly ajar from sleep and her pyjamas were scrunched up in just the right way. She looked comfortable and for a moment Sherlock felt guilty about waking her up. 

“When’d you get back?” She mumbled. Her voice was filled with sleep. 

Sherlock smiled and took a step towards her. “Not long.”

“I called you…” Y/N said. She nervously ran a hand through her hair. Internally scolded herself for acting like a schoolgirl. So much for not showcasing her newfound feeling. No, Y/N couldn’t have feelings for Sherlock. She couldn’t. She was dating Jim. Jim was perfect. He was kind, gentle, witty, and handsome. But Jim wasn’t Sherlock. She winced. She was screwed. 

“You called?” Sherlock replied a little too quiet for his liking. He hadn’t checked his phone. His mind was too busy with the case. His mind was a little too preoccupied with a case that was purely a distraction from the chemical defect called sentiment. 

John cleared his throat reminding Y/N and Sherlock that he was also present and so was the knocking on the door. Sherlock and Y/N turned to look at him, both of them hiding a blush that crept on their faces. John took that as a sign for him to be the one to open the door. 

In front of him stood a woman. Her dark hair was a frizzy mess and two dark circles underneath her eyes made her look like a skeleton. John peered at the woman with a confused look but before he could ask her anything, Sherlock pushed him to the side letting the woman enter. 

“Mrs. St. Clair,” Sherlock stated. 

John’s eyes widened. Y/N wore a confused look on her face. One that John pitied. She still had no idea. Without another word, Mrs. St. Clair was ushered up the stairs into John and Sherlock’s flat with Y/N in tow. She was curious as to why a strange woman appeared on their doorstep in the early hours of the morning. 

“ He wrote me a letter,” was all Mrs. St. Clair uttered before shoving the letter into Sherlock’s hand. 

_____

Lily, 

Do not be scared. Everything is fine. There is a huge error which may take some time to fix. 

Love,

Your Neville. 

_____

Sherlock took the letter and scoured over the letter. His blue eyes took note of every detail. John looked over Sherlock’s shoulder trying not to notice, Y/N’s puzzled look. He could see the gears in her head turning as she put the pieces together. 

“Whoever addressed the envelope had to go and ask about the address.”

This caught Mrs. St. Clair’s attention. “How can you tell?”

“The name is written perfectly in black ink. The rest is in a greyish colour which means that the paper was blotted. Whoever wrote it was not familiar with the address. Are you sure that this was your husband?” Sherlock asked. 

“There was a ring. His wedding ring.”

Sherlock nodded. “And this is his handwriting?”

The woman nodded. 

Sherlock’s brow pursed at the confirmation. This didn’t make sense. He was so sure that Neville was dead, his body missing. “If Neville is alive, then why has he not returned?” Sherlock asked. 

“I…I don’t know.”

Before Sherlock asked another question, Y/N cut him off. “Hold up, what’s going on here?”

“Not now Y/N–”

“Sherlock–” Y/N warned. 

“I’ll explain later. Mrs. St. Clair. On Monday your husband said nothing about leaving you?”

“What do you mean you’ll explain later? Sherlock a strange woman showed up on our do–” Y/N hissed. John shot her a look letting her know that he'd explain later if Sherlock didn’t. 

“No.” Mrs. St. Clair replied. 

“Were you surprised to see him in Swandam Lane?” Sherlock questioned. 

“Yes.”

Sherlock looked to the side before coming up with another question. “He only cried out to you?”

“Yes.” Mrs. St. Clair nodded. 

“A call for help?”

“Yes. He waved his hands at me.” The woman explained. 

The longer the interrogation continued the more confused Y/N grew. She was much too tired to deal with anything right now. 

“Couldn’t have been a cry of surprise? He could not have expected to see you in such an area.” Sherlock noted. 

“That’s possible, but…” 

“And you thought he was pulled back?” Sherlock continued. 

“He disappeared so suddenly.” Mrs. St. Clair’s voice began to grow quiet as Sherlock’s questions intensified.

“He could have leapt back. You didn’t see anyone else in the room,” Sherlock noted. His height towered over the woman and he began to lean over her small figure. 

Mrs. St. Clair shook her head. “No, but that horrible man confessed to having been there.”

“Right. Your husband was wearing his clothes?”

The woman gulped, unsure of where these questions were going. “Yes, but he wasn’t wearing his tie. I remember seeing his throat.”

“Has he ever spoken of Swandam Lane?” 

“No.”

“Has ever shown signs of taking Opium?”

Mrs. St Clair looked from Sherlock to John and then to Y/N. She bore a nervous and confused look on her face. 

“John. What are the symptoms of some who have taken Opium?”

John had been startled by Sherlock’s sudden question that it took his mind to process what he had been asked. “Mood swings, irritability, changes in appearance, risky behaviours, dizziness…”

Sherlock cocked his head to the side. “Well?”

“Um…no. No Neville hasn’t,” the woman said. 

Sherlock snapped back into his upward position. His back was tall and straight as he walked to the door and swung it open for Mrs. St. Clair. 

“Very well, Mrs. St. Clair,” He looked to the door and then at the woman before flashing a tense smile. 

Mrs. St. Clair took that as her cue to leave for the night. Once she removed herself from the flat, Sherlock shut the door and turned around to face John and Y/N. 

“John, Y/N. Pull out your phones.” Sherlock instructed. 

“Sherlock you haven’t explained–” Y/N began. 

“Phones.”

John and Y/N grumbled as they did as Sherlock asked. Once that was complete they looked up at Sherlock. They were half expecting he’d take their phones and do whatever he liked to them. So when they saw that Sherlock had his own phone out, the two of them were confused. 

Before they could ask any questions, Sherlock continued his instructions. “I’m going to call Grayson. Then John. Then Y/N. We will continue to do this until he picks up.”

“Sherlock, it’s 1 o’clock in the morning. Greg is not going to answer,” Y/N said. 

“Call,” Sherlock commanded as he dialled Greg’s number.

______

Greg quite liked his days off of work. Typically he would start it all off by sleeping in. A luxury he was not used to having in his everyday life. Then he’d wake up and lie in his bed for a moment, sometimes he used the time to read a book or scroll through his phone checking the daily news. Then maybe he’d make himself breakfast or go out to a local cafe. He had all the time in the world and he had the power to choose what he did with it. 

However, this was not Greg’s ideal day off. It seemed like the world was out to get him as his phone deafeningly rang on his bedside table. He was sure he silenced his phone before falling asleep last night. Blinded by his tiredness, Greg let the phone ring until it eventually ended about thirty seconds late. Again it was silent and Greg was well on his way to fall back into a deep sleep. That was until the phone rang again. Greg groaned and rolled over in his bed. His eyes peeled open to look at the time displayed on the alarm clock next to his bed. It was 1.15 in the morning. His mind began to fumble around thinking about who could be calling him at such an hour. It couldn’t have been Scotland Yard. It couldn’t have been…. Greg would have finished the thought if the phone continued to ring. Once again it stopped and the man’s body came crashing back down on the mattress. 

There it was again. That boisterous ringtone. Greg shot out of bed and grabbed his phone, yanking the charger out of its socket. 

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing calling me at one in the morning!” Greg grumbled into the phone. He hadn’t bothered to check the caller ID, so when a soft voice from the other end of his phone started speaking he felt incredibly guilty. 

It was Y/N. She hardly ever called and whenever she did it was always for a good reason. 

“Sorry Greg,” She whispered, taking into account the early hours of the morning.

From the sound of her voice, Y/N wasn’t fairing any better than he was. 

“No…forgive me…sorry. Why are you calling?” Greg began to rub the sleep from his eyes. 

There was a pause as Y/N thought of the best way to say it. “...Sherlock needs you to meet us at Scotland Yard.”

Greg groaned. He should have known that it was Sherlock’s doing. Only one man would have the audacity to call Greg this early in the morning, especially, on his day off. 

“Sorry, Greg, but he says it’s urgent. Something about the St. Clair case.”

Now this caught Greg’s attention. The case that had been plaguing his desk ever since he received the call a few days earlier. He would have been glad that Sherlock wanted to see him. It meant that there was a breakthrough. However, Greg was tired and had been woken up from a deep sleep. 

“Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow morning?” Greg voiced. 

Sherlock’s voice spoke over the phone loud and clear. “It is the morning Lestrade.”

“Oh, Sherlock it’s you,” Greg said with disdain. 

“Of course, it’s me. Meet us at Scotland Yard in twenty minutes. I’ve solved the case.”

With that, the phone hung up. Greg had no choice but to remove himself from the comfort of his bed. He had to forgo any thought of a nice morning sleeping in topped with a warm breakfast. He knew Sherlock had commanded that he be at Scotland Yard in twenty minutes, but that was the same amount of time as the commute there. If anything, Greg wanted to take as much time as he could before having to confront Sherlock. 

As Greg changed and prepared himself for the day, he prayed that the coffee machine in Scotland Yard had been fixed like it should have been weeks ago because Greg knew that he could not deal with Sherlock without a little help from caffeine. The praying was more for Sherlock’s sake (Not that Greg was contemplating murder or anything.)

_____

One of the first things Greg took notice of that morning was that the coffee machine was still broken. However, it seemed like an angel was smiling upon him that morning, that angel was Y/N. She handed him a warm cup of coffee that she had made herself. He couldn’t help but smile at the woman for her kind gesture. A smile that seemed to sour Sherlock’s mood. 

“You’re a godsend, Y/N.” Greg thanked her. 

“Oh, Greg there’s–” Y/N tried to reply. 

“You’re late,” Sherlock stated. 

“I know that, Sherlock,” Greg said. “It wasn’t physically possible to arrive here in twenty minutes. Speaking of, why am I here?”

“I need to see Boone.”

Greg took a sip of the coffee. The warm, quite frankly delicious drink made quick work of waking Greg’s body. He raised his brow at Sherlock’s request. 

“The beggar?” Greg asked.

“Yes. I know he’s here.” Sherlock replied. 

“He is,” Greg confirmed. 

“Is he quiet?” Sherlock questioned. This earned a few strange looks from his friends. 

“Quiet? Yeah, I guess so. He is a dirty scoundrel though…” Greg trailed off thinking about how dirty the man was. 

“Dirty?” John asked. 

Y/N looked between the three men. She was beginning to think that this was all an elaborate prank Sherlock was pulling. She had been dragged from her flat and still had not been told what was going on. “Hold on. Before anyone says anything else. What is going on?!” She exclaimed. 

Sherlock sighed and looked at John, causing John to sigh as well. It seemed to the job of an explanation landed on John’s shoulders because Sherlock couldn’t be bothered when he was on a roll. So as John pulled Y/N to the side to let her know what was going on, Sherlock and Greg continued their conversation. 

“He’s dirty?” Sherlock repeated. 

“Yes,” Greg scoffed. “All we can do is make him wash his hands. His face is covered with soot and dirt. The man needs a bath.”

“I need to see him.”

Greg raised a brow as he took note of Sherlock’s seriousness. “Alright, this way–” 

“Sherlock Holmes!” Y/N yelled. “You were in an opium den?!”

Sherlock winced at the noise and turned to glare at John. In Sherlock’s mind, explaining things meant the case, not the whole situation. Hesitantly, Sherlock turned his gaze to Y/N who was staring right at him. 

“For the case.” It was all Sherlock could say. 

“For the case my–” Y/N grumbled as she marched up to Sherlock. 

“Y/N! Sherlock! It is too early for this.” John stepped in as the voice of reason. 

Greg looked at the scene before him. Then he took a long and loud sip of coffee in an attempt to diffuse the tension. After a few moments of silence passed, Greg deemed it safe enough to speak again. 

“As I was saying, Boone’s this way,” Greg said. The group followed him as he led them to the back of Scotland Yard where the holding cells were. 

It was a very whitewashed corridor. On each side of the wall, there were barred doors as far as the eye could see. A large majority of the cells were empty, something that Y/N noted as Greg led them down the hallway. 

Soon the group's pace began to slow. “Here it is.” Greg pointed to the sleeping figure behind the bar doors. 

Boone was huddled on the cot in the room. His legs were held close to his body. His chest rose and fell slowly. The man was in a deep sleep just like one would be this early in the morning. But from what Y/N could see, he was dirty. The man was covered in dirt and soot from head to toe. The grim did little to hide the broad old scar that ran across his face. Y/N scrunched her nose. She couldn’t fathom how someone could stand to be covered in such filth. 

“A beauty, isn’t he?” Greg said sarcastically. 

“Certainly needs a bath…” Y/N mumbled. 

Suddenly, Sherlock reached into his pocket and pulled out a large bath sponge. 

“Sherlock! Where’d you get a bath sponge?” John asked. 

“Don’t you recognize it?” Sherlock questioned as he tilted his head in John’s direction. 

John’s face turned red as he tried to control the sudden wave of anger. 

“Lestrade, open the door very quietly. We’ll make him much more… tolerable.” Then Sherlock turned to look at Y/N. 

Y/N’s eyes widened. “No, Sherlock. There’s no way I’m–”

“Greg, the door,” Sherlock commanded. 

Greg’s mind was in shock at how quickly he opened the door for Sherlock. It seemed as if his body was moving on its own. Once the door was open, all of them made their way into the cell. Sherlock quietly turned on the sink in the cell to wet the sponge before raising the sponge to Boone’s face. 

Y/N was surprised that Boone had not woken up from how vigorously Sherlock rubbed the grime off the man’s face. Once Sherlock was satisfied with his work, he stepped back and dropped the wet sponge to the floor.

“Let me introduce you to Neville St. Clair.” 

John and Greg’s faces all bore the same expression of shock. Y/N, on the other hand, was a bit puzzled as she looked at the sleeping man. Before them lay Neville. The scar from the man’s face, one that his wife declared was his most identifying trait, was present. 

“Christ, Sherlock. It is him,” Greg stated. His voice was much louder than a considerate whisper. 

This seemed to wake up Neville. The man took one look at the four people standing over him, and he yelped out in fear. 

“Lestrade, don’t you think it smart to let our missing man go home?” Sherlock asked. 

Neville gulped, waiting for Greg’s answer. 

Greg sighed. His coffee was all gone. “We have no case if the missing man was Boone all along…which brings me to ask. What happened on Monday?” 

Neville looked down at his feet. “I’m an investigative journalist. I write about what it’s like being a beggar, addict, or anyone suffering from the poor conditions of life. My alias is Hugh Boone…” Neville’s voice grew quiet as he admitted his secret. 

Greg pursed his brows. “Great, but that still doesn’t answer my question about what happened on Monday.”

“I had finished work for the day in Swandam Lane when I looked out my window and saw my wife. I cried out before covering my face and running away from the window. I ran to my confidants in the building asking them to hide me just as I heard my wife downstairs. In a hurry, I threw away my clothes and once again entered my persona of Boone. Doing so, I cut my hand on a nail in the window sill. Before I knew it the police were involved and I was arrested as my own murderer,” Neville explained. 

Sherlock stepped forward. “What about the letter?”

“We were told we could contact someone. I was too ashamed to call my wife. She’d hear my voice and know where I was. Instead, I wrote a letter and placed my wedding ring inside.” Then Neville buried his face in his hands. “She must have been so worried. I need to get home to her and the kids.” 

Greg hated seeing how guilty Neville felt. It was too much for one morning. “Alright, up you go,” Greg motioned for Neville to stand up and follow him out of the cell. Without another word, Neville was let off. The case was solved and everyone went their separate ways: Greg back to his warm bed to sleep the rest of the day, and the case-solving trio back to Baker Street. 

_____

A few days later, a thank you email appeared in Sherlock’s inbox. Of course, Y/N was the one to find it as it was part of her job to search and organize Sherlock’s emails. It was a heartfelt message thanking Sherlock for his work. Not very many clients thanked Sherlock after the case was solved, although Neville’s case wasn’t a normal one. 

Speaking of emails. That was the worst and probably the most entertaining part about Y/N’s job. Yes, she was also hired to clean, organize, and follow Sherlock around on death-defying cases, but emails were the bane of her existence. Dealing with her own emails was enough, the inbox filled with incessant ads and subscriptions she never remembered signing up for. However, Sherlock’s emails were much worse. There were the subscriptions: newsletters from all over the world, daily notifications about new updates on bizarre websites that would concern even the best of people and ads for the strangest things that would somehow eventually end up in Sherlock’s flat. There were also emails about potential cases, those tended to be mundane things or crazy outlandish stories to get attention from someone online, or people asking for favours.  In fact, the hardest thing was finding a job that Sherlock, John, or Y/N couldn’t solve the second the email appeared in the inbox. 

Y/N groaned as she swore to God that she’d gouge her eyes out if she had to read another email from a concerned elder about their missing cat or jar of cookies that mysteriously went empty. 

Ding!

Clenching her eyes shut and whispering hopes and prayers that this wasn’t a bogus email, Y/N opened her eyes and peered at the screen. It seemed that God or some angel watching over her liked her eyes right where they were on the screen was an email from Hilton Cubitt. The visitor from Ireland, who stopped by two weeks ago. Y/N couldn’t help the triumphant cheer that left her mouth. 

“Did you win the lottery?” Sherlock asked without peering up from his latest novel, 100 Ways to Kill Your Employees. A book of many that displayed his loathing of the whole scenario. His tone matched the underlying threat of his choice of light reading, unamused and with a pinch of disdain for his imprisonment. 

This confinement began the moment Y/N discovered where Sherlock’s business trip had been. Upon returning to 221B, John began to scold Sherlock. The man in question stood in the doorway to his own flat without a care in the world. John’s words of concern and fear never reached his ears. However, it was when Y/N began to speak up, Sherlock began to listen. Eventually, it was agreed that Sherlock would be watched over just to make sure that he had not been taking opium. (Something that was proposed by Mycroft, but Y/N had been under strict instructions to not tell Sherlock that.)

“No, Sherlock. I didn’t win the lottery, but it looks like Cubitt did,” Y/N said. Sherlock froze in his seat. He gradually moved his gaze up to look at Y/N with a burning fire of curiosity in his eyes. He looked down at the computer in her hands and looked up at her once more. In the blink of an eye, the novel in Sherlock’s hand was replaced by his computer. 

Front and Center on the screen was an image depicting more of the code Cubitt had presented Sherlock with two weeks prior. Along with the message of urgency. 

______

Come to Clifden. It may be worse than I thought.

Hilton Cubitt

______

“Y/N pack your bags and book us a flight to Ireland,” Sherlock began as stood up from his seat to grab the paper Cubitt had given him of the code. 

“Sherlock–” 

“Cubitt needs us there to solve the case. Time is of the essence.”

“Sher–”

“Oh and call John and tell him to prepare a bag as well.”

“Sherlock!” Y/N yelled. 

Sherlock froze in his step as he turned around to look at her. He raised his brow up as if saying “Why are you not doing what I asked?” 

“Sherlock…” Y/N cleared her throat. “We’ll go to Ireland, but only…”

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed at the woman. 

“Only if you promise to never lie about a business trip again.”

Sherlock scoffed at Y/N. “I don’t know what–”

“Yes, you do! Sherlock. You’ve been grumbling about being kept here in your flat, so you know full well why. I…” Y/N’s voice grew quiet. “I was so worried, so just promise that you’ll take one of us with you.” Sherlock winced at her words, “ OR at least tell us where you are going. Please.”

Sherlock closed his eyes and took a sharp intake of breath through his nose. His mind was in torment. This whole scenario was ridiculous. He was being treated like a child. Everything from Y/N’s, not so secret, hovering, Mrs. Hudson’s checking in, and John’s horrific attempts of spying on him all put Sherlock on edge. In his mind, he had done nothing wrong. But she had said please. She said she was worried. She cared. Now, if Sherlock had been given this treatment two months ago when she first came on board as his assistant, he would have fired her on the spot and uttered something about her worry being misplaced. However, time is a funny thing. Now, all Sherlock wants to say is yes. But a singular yes is too harsh, too noticeable, and an easy entrance into the hard-kept secret in Sherlock’s heart. So he settled for a simple…

“Alright.” 

It was enough for Y/N to order three tickets to Ireland and transportation to Clifden. In a moment, bags were packed, an inn was booked, Bjørn was placed in the care of his great-grandmother, things were settled, and notice was made of their departure. The game was afoot. A new case was brewing, and Sherlock couldn’t wait.

_____

Previous | Next

Comment below if you would like to be added to the tag list!

Tag list:  @bartokthealbinobat @biggerthancalli13 @themartiansdaughter @sunsumonner @silversword7000 @starlightaurorab @melody7 @astudyinlaura​ @sherlockstrangewolf​ @neroarrow83​ @khaleesihavilliard

____

[hollypies]

More of my deltarune dream stuff!!

Also I want to name this but idk what. I mean it's mostly just self indulgent stuff anway

So !! Uhm, plot stuff that I glossed over . And also new stuff im making because I wanna flesh it out for funsies :)

This au takes place in the school's science/chemistry lab! The end of chapter two didn't end like it did in canon, instead Kris just went to sleep as well.

The Head's whole goal was to keep their dark fountain from being sealed and to create more. Unlike Queen, the Head knows exactly what will happen if more dark fountains are created, they just don't care. They also want to study the properties of the Players soul. It's.. unique

Kris has their own soul!!! I can't remember the color tho hmm. It mightve been cyan? Kris' attacks did the least damage, and were pencils, swords, and playing cards (for some reason???). Susie had a sweeping attack with her axe!! And fireballs !

Ralsie and Kris were the only ones who like. Really knew how bad it was that the Player was stolen. They give Susie like . A rundown of who we are, cuz Susie has no idea lmao.

If you died during the boss fight against them, instead of the usual death screen, it was just. Ok so there's a couple different ones!

One for each character! Kris' dialog would be more upset, begging us to stay. Ralsie would panic, because they can't close the fountain now. Susie would be like. Shed tell you that you can't give up. The generic stuff.

But there'd one more. Strange noise. Wingdings. Ehehe. ;]

Anway!!!! After you reload there's new dialog for the "check" action. Here's what.

You tell Kris that you've already died (insert number) of times. Kris looks nervous.

You ask Susie if she remembers what happened last time. She's confused.

You tell Ralsie you believe in all of them, and it doesn't matter how many times you die. Ralsie looks uncomfortable

Idk stuff like that!!!! Also for this au I am using mt vessel I named Hollow.. . . Yes I named them Hollow and its fuckin hilarious lmao

Ohhh also the Head looked like the. In the core of uhhhhh uhm. True labs! The big skull thing? Like that but a bit smaller and also in a huge lab coat. Nice

Also the vessel has their own dark world form!! The skin color stays the same, tho. Their outfit is like Kris but not as blue!

[obsessive-ego]

Pest of the west

Toonjuice x reader

Warning cringe

Gender neutral pronouns, pregnancy is mentioned once, also reader is forced to wear a dress

A shameless episode rewrite, swapping lydia for y/n and making it into a reader insert, I can not stress this enough, I just rewrote the episode to fit what I wanted, If this goes over well i might do more episode rewrites

Toonjuice takes you to the old west to goof off, and shit gets bad when an out law named bully the crud falls in love with you

"Come to the netherworld he said, it'll be fun he said, we'll go to the old west, you could use a good time, god" you grumbled to yourself, here you were handcuffed, wearing the ugliest, largest wedding dress you've ever seen in your life, hell, the size of the dress was the second reason stopping you from running from this cruel fate, the first being the groom. Not only were you handcuffed, your soon to be husband had a vice grip on your arm, a giant bull of a monster, Bully the Crud, you had no idea why this bastard wanted you, or why beetlejuice, scared out of his wits, left you to fend for yourself, all you did know was that you were screwed.

...

Finally friday, it's been a long rough work week, between overtime, and unreliable coworkers, and your bastard of a boss using you as a punching bag, you were beat.

Home again, you toss your bag and coat on the couch as you pass the living room, your apartment was small and quiet. You head to your room to finally change out of these work clothes.

Passing the full length mirror in your room, out of the corner of your eye you notice the reflection wasn't yours.

"Hey BJ" you say casually, not bothering to look his way as you dug around your dresser for something more comfortable.

"Its about time you finally came around babes"

"Yeah, overtime again" you sigh

"Gross"

"Tell me about it mr I dont have a job" you laugh, turning to the mirror to see that beetlejuice was gone.

"Huh" you mumble scooping up your change of clothes "guess he had things to do?" You mumble.

Just then, you jump as the television in your bedroom turns on, loud static noises buzz from the speakers before an image settles on screen.

"Beetlejuice ?"

Your television lights up showing a desert like scenery, with cactus, and wired fences, and there was beetlejuice, dressed in cowboy attire

"Thats my name, and cow poking is my game,Are you tired of the same old same old boring modern breather life style?"

"Yeah" you chuckle

"Are ya in desperate need for a change of pace? Then mosey on down to the nether world's wild west rude ranch, conveniently located in tombstone scareizona"

"Theres a wild west in the netherworld? Like cowboys and stuff?" The ghoul had your full attention now, maybe sometime goofing off in the netherworld could do you some good, and the wild west would seem like something new and fun,

"Cowboys, cowghouls, just spout those magic b words and we'll be ghost town bound"

what's the worst that could happen?

"Beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!" You shout in a hurry, and in a flash you were gone.

And there you were in the scenery you saw on your television, sand, cactus, cow skulls, all the cliches of an old west movie. Your work clothes now replaced with more appropriate attire, a black cowboy hat, with a matching vest, a soft blue coloured puffy sleeved shirt, with a dusty blue neckerchief, black pants, with a big belt, and some big black boots, you look liked you walked out of freddy pharkas frontier pharmacist, but appreciated the wardrobe change, your clothes always changed when beetlejuice dragged you into the netherworld, you were used to it by now.

"Beetlejuice?" You look around, the ghost was no where to be seen

"Oh bury me~ on the lone prairie~"

The ground next to you shakes before beetlejuice unearths himself "welcome to the netherwest babes! I'm your ghost host with the most, should you have any questions, I'll be sure awnser them, as obscurely as possible" the ghoul proudly proclaims as he struts away from the grave he pulled himself out of.

"So this is the netherwest, it looks fun"

"Of course babes, it has everything an old west motife should have, sun, sand, more cliches then you can shake a stick at" the ghost hollers shaking a stick at a cow skull

"Sounds like a blast beej" you grab his arm eager to see the sights.

"And dont you worry toots, if you're fretting on being bush wacked by bad guys, you're fretting for nothing"

"Oh? You some kind of old west hero?" You asked amused by his sudden confidence

"You kidding babes? Nobody messes with the pest of the west, I'll show ya what I mean later" he cackles leading you into town

"Pest is right" you chuckle

...

The two of you were having a blast, beetlejuice eagerly showing you the sights, dragging you around town, the two of you laughing and carrying on, you really needed this after such a shitty work week, you could always rely on beetlejuice to change your mood for the better.

It was all fun and games until your ghost with the most got kicked by a horse into a trough of dirty water. You were trying not to laugh at him as you helped him out.

"This has got to be the closest thing I've taken ta a bath in months" he grumbled

"Its surely an improvement" you laugh, hoisting you friend out of the water

"Excuse me, allow me to introduce myself" an unfamiliar voice interrupts the two of you, standing in front of you was a man shaped like a dartboard and a tiny purple guy who's shirt was way too long for him.

"Howdy there stranger, The name's casualty, hop along casualty, I'm the mayor of this here tombstone and this is fester, we all in the market for a new sheriff, know anybody whod be intrested in such a noble and HIGH paying job?"

"What-" was all you manged to get out, before beetlejuice perked up

"DO I? Look no further, I am the slob for the job!" Beetlejuice lunges forward eager to shake the mayor's hand, before you pull him back

"Uh beej? You a law man? Do you even know any laws?"

"Dont rob people"

"I set the bar too low, werent we just here to have fun? Besides sheriff? That's alot of hard work" the ghoul's one weakness, maybe the mentioning of work would be enough for him to decline and the two of you could go back to goofing off.

"WORK?! YUCK!" Beetlejuice shouts, you smile, theres the ghost you know and love more then you're willing to admit.

"Maybe the breather is right, maybe the job would be too much for this tender foot to handle" casualty loudly proclaims as he and his sidekick walk away

"TENDER FOOT!?"

Great, now they had him, beetlejuice was always a sucker for reverse psychology.

Beetlejuice proceeds to 'show off' his so called slime shooting skills, saying he could shoot his hat before it touched the ground.

The hat went up into the air and beetlejuice went trigger happy, the ghost hit everything BUT the hat, you were smart enough to take cover, the ghost proved in a matter of seconds slime shooting was something he had to cross out on his resume, as he proceeded to cover the towns folk in slime.

But yet the mayor was still eager to hire him.

"Beetlejuice come on, no offense, but you are the worst guy for the job, you lie, cheat, steal, hell you're wanted in 5 different states, plus we just got here, why would anyone want you to be sheriff? Theres got to be something wrong" you pleaded with him, your words fell of deaf ears, beetlejuice was too excited with all the glory that came with his new title.

"Beetlejuice, I wouldnt do this if I were you-" you try again only to be shoved aside by the mayor, who was more the ready to slap that star shaped badge on Beetlejuice's chest.

"Congratulations son, you're exactly what were looking for!"

"This us a joke right?" You groaned

The mayor dragged beetlejuice to the group of townsfolk who gathered in the street to see what all the commotion was about

"Attention yall, I'd like ya to meet out new sheriff"

The crowd cheered and beetlejuice drank in all the attention and praise, while you just stood there trying to put two and two together

"Oh, I forgot to mention, bully the crud will be here at high noon" the mayor starts

"And hes gonna do terrible, horrible things to you-" fester continues

"Great" you grumble, there it was, so much for a fun time.

A bell gong rings through the town, and in a matter of seconds the towns folk were gone, leaving only you and beetlejuice standing in the middle of the street, you pull your phone out of your pocket, though you had no service, it still worked like a clock, time in the netherworld worked differently, though it was evening when you left, it was day time when you arrived, your phone always acted accordingly, weird, but you werent complaining.

"Noon" you say in a whisper, you stomach now turning with dread, what did beetlejuice just sign up for?

The ground rumbles and you grab the ghoul's arm out of nervousness and in a sandstorm cloud of dust a pig pulled carriage charges into tombstone, making a hasty hault in front of the two of you. The door swings open and there stands what you can assume is bully the crud, a big bull of a man, snarling and staring down the two of you.

"I'm looking for trouble" he growls

Beetlejuice snorts "never met 'em, you know anyone by that name babes?" The ghoul gives you a nudge, you shake your head

"That ain't what I ment, that was a figure of speech! Which one of the two of you are the sheriff?!"

You clamp your mouth shut, you werent gonna rat out your friend or take the blame, beetlejuice did the same

Bully huffs through his nose before grabbing you by your neckerchief

"You better spill-" in the rough movement of grabbing you, your hat got knocked off, your eyes no longer hidden in shadow.

"You better, better- why, arent you a pretty little thing" bully sets you down, and hands you your hat "why you ring my bell little meadow muffin, hows 'bout you give ol'bully a kiss" you cringe at his change in mood and utter out a "what?" More confused then anything else, not to mentioned disgusted

Beetlejuice quickly pulls you away, a tad angry over how this over grown hamburger was now hitting on you, HIS best friend.

"I'm the sheriff round these parts, and this here is my deputy" the ghoul snatches your hat from you hands a roughly puts it back on your head

"I never agreed to that" you grumble adjusting your hat.

"YOU'RE THE NEW SHERIFF?!" the bull bellowed, followed by a fit of laughter

"And who might you be?" Beetlejuice puffed out his chest squaring up to the monster

"I'm bully the crud, the meanest ombre that ever licked a law man" he shouted

"Ya know you look alot bigger then your eight by tens, were you sick on picture day?" Beetlejuice laughs pulling a photo from his pocket

"Enough small talk, I came to run you outta town and that's what I aim ta do" the bully snorts

"Alright bully, make your move" beetlejuice snorts reaching for his slime shooter

In a matter of second the monster grabs beetlejuice with one hand, tightly wrapped about his gut, squeezing the afterlife out of him

"Nice move" beetlejuice croaks

"Wait!" You shout, dead or not that's got to hurt

Bully drops beetlejuice, his attention now on you

"Sweet little meadow muffin, ya change your tune about giving ol' bully that kiss?" He coos, quickly making his way infront you amd grabbing your hands, his voice was much less harsh when addressing you, it was nauseating

"Ugh" you flinch, youd prefer the same hostility he's shown beetlejuice over this 'sweet' side in a heart beat

As disgusted as you were, this little exchange, it was enough of a distraction to get beetlejuice back on his feet.

In a flash your ghost host with the most pulls you away from the Bull's grasp

"Back off bovine breath" he snorts jabbing bully in chest "I hope you dont mind me asking, but what's your BEEF with this town anyway? Cuz we'd kinda like ya to just MOO-ve along" with each cow related joke beetlejuice pushed bully back away from you, you bit your tongue, trying not to laugh, despite Beetlejuice's confidence, you werent too sure how dangerous this guy really was, and besides, beej was doing enough laughing for the both of you.

You remained silent watching beetlejuice roll on the floor laughing at his own jokes, that is until Bully has had enough of the ghoul's shenanigans and snaps and screams

"NOBODY MAKES A LAUGHING STOCK OUT OF BULLY THE CRUD!"

Beetlejuice hops back to his feet and laughs

"Beej, I think you should get serious here" you urge, yes you know beetlejuice was a powerful ghost, but he was also a dumbass.

He snorts "come on babes, you worry to much, this over sized hamburger is all bark and no bite, ya know what I mean?" Beetlejuice gives you a half hearted shrug, turning away from Bully.

Of course beetlejuice wasnt as freaked out as you were, he wasnt the one getting kissy faces from a cow.

"Relax babes, remember what I told ya earlier? Nobody messes with the pest of the west-!?" Beetlejuice freezes, while he spent his time ignoring bully and flapping his gums at you, the bull took his opportunity and painted a large yellow stripe on Beetlejuice's back.

"THE SHERIFF GOT A YELLOW STREAK DOWN HIS BACK!" A voice screams

were the towns folk watching this whole mess?

"You calling me a chicken?!" Beetlejuice screams back

"Boo" bully leans into him and whispers him Beetlejuice's ear

And that was all it took to turn your friend into a giant yellow chicken

Beetlejuice scrambled and clucked away from bully, hopping on the nearest horse and riding put of town.

You were in utter disbelief, he left you behind

"Fuck" was all you could say watching your friend ride out of view, you were now screwed.

You were pulled from the spot and hoisted up into bully's arms

"Now that I ran sheriff stinko out of town, let's have us a wedding♡"

"I just have one question for you"

"Well sure there honey"

"What's the capital on Thailand?"

"What?"

"Its Bangkok!" You shout slamming the heel of your boot into bully's crotch

Bully drops you and screams, you quickly scramble away thankful that stupid joke worked.

Your freedom was shortly lived, you didnt get far, no building would let you in, citizens too frightened to what Bully might do to them if they were caught harboring someone he wanted, which was fair in a sense.

Bully pulls you back into his arms and laughs "you should be more careful there my little meadow muffin, you dont wanna damage the family jewels, we're gonna need em"

Beetlejuice wherever you are please come back.

As you were being prepared/forced to marry a literal monster beetlejuice was in the middle of the desert not too worried about you, back to his old abnormal self, arguing with a horse

"So your not gonna head back to tombstone? What about your friend?"

"Y/n? They're fine, they're the toughest living thing I've ever had the privilege to scare" he waves his horse off, despite all the teasing the ghoul gave you he held a very high opinion of you and just assumes you could take on bully no problem. "They could take on a while herd of Bully the cruds, no sweat"

....

"Y/n's sure taking their sweet time, I'm beginning to worry"

"I told ya, bully the crud is one tough side of beef, do you have any idea what's gonna happen to your little friend if you dont run him outta town?" The horse nags

Beetlejuice snorts "yeah, like I can see the future-" in a flash Beetlejuice's cowboy attire was replaced with to resemble swami, with a big crystal ball nestled in his lap

The ghoul snorts out a laugh

"Now let's see if I can get a clear picture on this thing" beetlejuice focuses on the orb and what he sees makes his stomach turn, not only did you fail on rescuing yourself from his mess, you were forced into marriage with that monster, your living status was now gone, barefoot and pregnant, all because of him.

"Y/N! SAY IT AIN'T SO! Y/N AND BULLY ARE GONNA GET HITCHED!"

...

So here you were, hand cuffed, gagged, in the ugliest puffy dress you ever seen, standing before a minister with you future husband who had a vice grip on you and no way out, you were trapped, you couldnt run, you could barely speak, every objection from your mouth was quickly muffled by Bullys sweaty hands to the point the bull gagged you to make things easier for this mess of a ceremony, if you could manage a few words you would have said the B word 3 times before this got this far. Your time was running out, and your Hope's of beetlejuice coming to save you were getting slimmer by the second.

"We are gathered here today to join these two in matrimony, be there any man, or beast" the father gesturing to the side of the church filled with what you could only assume is  Bullys extended family. "Who feels that this here wedding should not take place, let them hold up their hand, or hove, or forever hold their cud" the minister laughs nervously

This was it, you were doomed, there was nothing you could do, you stood there staring forward, utterly lost in despair.

"GET ON WITH IT!" Bully bellows tugging you in closer, this had to be a nightmare right? Any second your alarm would go off right?

"That's it! The only thing left to say is, I now pronounce you cow and-!"

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE PARSON! I OBJECT!"

You whip your head around, knowing that voice anywhere, there he was, standing that the entrance of the hall, rushing towards you.

"This lil' thing is spoken for" beej spats before pulling you away from Bully, with a snap of the ghoul's fingers your restraints vanish, with your new found freedom you were quick to embrace him, silently thanking the stars he came back in the nic of time.

"How dare you try and marry MY fiance!"

"What?" You mumble

"Your fiance?! They ain't got a ring to prove that!"

"Oh?~" Beetlejuice grabs your wrist and shoves your hand in Bully's face, "then what's this?" Placed upon your middle finger was a very large, very tacky, bright green jewel on a black and white striped band, a ring that sure wasnt their 2 minutes ago.

"I-?!" The bully stutters

"You didnt notice? were you too busy forcing my little cockroach into this mess you couldnt be asked to see if they've been already spoken for, I bet you wouldnt listen to a word they said" each word the ghoul spoke he would jab the bull in the chest, he was really laying on the country twang, you couldnt help bit crack a smile knowing the danger of you being married to that monster was gone, not to mention Beetlejuice saying you were his fiance.

This mirth was short lived though, as Bully had had enough of Beetlejuice's shenanigans, with a snarl and a bellowing howl

"NOBODY CUTS OFF MY NUPTIALS  AND GETS AWAY WITH! ITS TIME WE SETTLE THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL!"

"Yeah"

"AND THAT MEANS ONLY ONE THING"

"Name it"

"SLIMESHOOTERS AT 60 PACES"

"YOU GOT IT!"

Bully stomps out of the church to get ready for the dual

Beetlejuice quickly pulls you aside

"Alright babes, let's get out of here, just say those magic b words and we can amscray" he whispers to you

"We cant"

"right- WHAT?! WHY?! - I mean why? Cat got your tongue? Suddenly lost your voice? Or, oh no, dont tell me ya changed your mind and ACTUALLY WANT TO MARRY THAT CHUMP??" The ghoul grabs you shoulders and shakes you, as if to knock some sense into you

You brush his hands away "no, Beetlejuice, we cant leave, if we leave Bully is gonna destroy this town and everyone in it, I cant live with that on my shoulders" despite the fact that you hung around with a professional con man, you yourself were honest and kind, and to be the cause of such misery, you could never forgive yourself.

"Like I'm gonna lose sleep over that-" he grumbles

"Please beetlejuice, I'm asking you as a friend, and after you ditching me, I think you owe me" you gesture to the awful dress you were forced in, not to mention how if he was seconds late you could have been hitched to a literal monster.

"Fine" he grumbles

"Besides you're dead, what do you have to lose?"

Beetlejuice groans

"Also Can I ask one more thing of you Beej? Can you get me out of this dress?" You tug at the tooling, you could barely move and the fabric was quite itchy.

"Y/n! In front of so many people, and in a church! If you insist" the ghoul gingerly reaches for the the zipper on your dress before you swat his hand away, clearly embarrassed

"I ment with magic" you sigh not really in the mood for games

"Right, I knew that, just messing with ya" he chuckles sheepishly, with another snap you were back in your cowboy attire

"Thank you, now, what about bully?" You sneer

"Bully's got a date with the sheriff"

"No, we can beat him together" you give the ghoul a light punch in the arm, still alittle sore he left you behind.

...

Like any other western movie cliche, beetlejuice and bully square off in the center of town

"Please for the love of god cheat" you grumble watching this soon to be mess from the sidelines.

"That would be ideal, your friend there couldnt hit the ground with his hat" the mayor buts in to your mutterings

"But I think I have something dumb eniugh it might just work-" you muse before running off.

"This is it bully, it's time to separate the men from the bulls, theres no tomorrow, it's now or never, the cheese stands alone!"

"Quit staling and draw!" Bully sneers, absolutely fed up with Beetlejuice's nonsense.

"Draw? I'm a little rusty, but I'll give it a go" beetlejuice snorts swapping his cowboy hat for a beret, pulling a canvas and isle out of nowhere

"Now I'm gonna need ya to keep that pose for the next few hours-"

Bully screams in frustration, ripping the canvas away from Beej and slamming it over head

Beetlejuice unfazed snorts "I really get into my work"

"I'm gonna give you one last chance to draw beelejerk, or else I'm gonna start without ya, NOW DRAW!"

Beetlejuice swallows the lump in his throat "I guess this is it, theres no turning back now"

"Hold it!"

"Y/n!" Beetlejuice shouts, glad to see you

"Hey Bully I've change my mind about marrying you!" You shout

"WHAT!? Babes have you lost your mind?!"

"You have?! Oh honey I'd knew youd come around♡"

You run into the center of the action and with Bully distracted, you toss beetlejuice a different pistol

"Shoot!" You shout

"OH!" Beetlejuice fumbles with the gun before taking clear aim and firing, but instead of slime, a red sauce came out, covering bully, you let out a sigh you didnt know you were holding, the fact that beetlejuice ACTUALLY hit bully was nothing other then luck.

"Huh?! BARBEQUE SAUCE?! GET IT OFF OF ME" Bully screams

"I dont know about you babes but I could eat" beetlejuice growls scraping a knife and fork together.

Bully scared for his afterlife screams and scrambles out of tombstone, off into the sunset and out of sight.

"Thank god" you sigh, absolutely physically and emotionally exhausted

"We did it babes!" Beetlejuice pulls you into a side hug

"Yeah" you chuckle

"Sheriff we cant thank you enough" the mayor shakes Beetlejuice's hand

"Yup, bully the crud wont be bothering this town anymore, so long as you keep plenty of barbeque sauce on hand, but alas it's about time I hung up the old slimeshooters" beetlejuice sighs

The mayor of tombstone drops to the ground and hugs Beetlejuice's knees "NO! dont quit, is it because of me, because I got you ti take the job with trickery, dishonesty, and deceit?"

Beetlejuice snorts out a laugh "heck no  I like that in a guy, but no, I'm hanging up my guns for personal reasons, all this mud are ruining my boots"

The mayor sighs "we lose alot of them that way..."

"We should get going Beej" you finally interrupt, desperate to get home and rest

"So babes, how's bout a thank you for your hero huh~?" Beetlejuice  leans into you wiggling his eyebrows

"A 'thank you' to the guy who's fault I almost married to cow?" You snort out a laugh

"I came back in the nic of time didnt I? Come on, come on, come on~" the ghoul teases nudging his elbow into your arm.

You yank beetlejuice by his neckerchief pulling him close to your level, that was enough to get him to shut his mouth, and in an instant you give him a quick, soft kiss on his cheek.

Letting him go, he remains stunned, you give the ghoul a light punch in the arm

"Come on beetlejuice, let's go home"

"Right!"

It was odd, everytime you've shown beej kindness or compassion, he would always go off saying it was 'gross' but this time that wasnt that case, he remained silent, which after the day you had, you were fine with that.

Bonus

To be honest you were exhausted, between a rough work week, and that whole emotional nearly married to a monster thing, you nearly passed out when you returned home.

But now all that was behind you and you were home again, safe and unwed.

In the netherworld, the ghoul who dragged you into the situation/ saved you, was laying awake in his bed, hand gingerly placed upon the cheek you so quickly kissed.

Yes beetlejuice has kissed you multiple times, but as a joke, sort of, but this? You kissing him? With genuine feeling?

"Gross" was all he could utter, hand still holding the spot where your lips met his cold face.

[rjalker]

JK Rowling's fucking useless as a writer even ignoring the bigotry. Lol. Let me google how old I was when I read this book....

...yeah lol I was fucking 13 when The Deathly Hallows was published and that giant gaping fucking hole in the rules of her worldbuilding was so fucking blatant it's not even funny.

She's like oooohhhhhh you can't make food with magic!!! but alsooooooooo you can actually perfectly duplicate any food you do have, without problem or ill effect, and the protagonists know this, but they're not gonna do this, because uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh [insert blue screen of death noise here]

oh and why can't you not make food with magic? well she didn't fucking think that far, now did she? You can turn cups into living breathing mice that are apparently normal fucking mice but apparently rearanging molecules into food is asking too much, for no logical fucking reason at all, and not even an attempt at an in universe explanation. because that would require her magic to work by rules that make sense.

There's a REASON all of the Harry Potter fanfiction I ever enjoyed was things specifically fixing all the bullshit not only wrong with the magical system, but actually fighting against the bigotry baked into the magical society that we're all just supposed to think is normal and natural and fine??????? like that whole "prisoners literally get tortured to death and they don't even get trials" thing that we're supposed to be fine with???????????