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#beetlejuicebway
dramajuiced · 1 year
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my little goodbye doodle for Beetlejuice on Broadway
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batxmasisrjuice · 1 year
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Mom, Dad. I'd like you to meet my boyfriend 💚
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dichotomise · 1 year
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Beetlejuice sleeping headcanons, and laundry day. Mostly just general headcanons, but sleep-themed. The relationship is a little established I'd say.
Not proofread, I cannot read through this all again, my god.
In the beginning, he would throw himself into your bed while you were getting ready to get some beauty sleep, in only his underwear. Whistles at you to come hither, and strikes a pose for you.
Once you allow him to sleep next to you, instead of him just awkwardly laying by your feet like a street dog, he‘s literally glued to you. He‘s so close you‘d think your atoms are merging. Once it gets hotter he has to pay you so you can keep the fan/Air-conditioning on.
The guy sleeps like a corpse, literally. Either he‘s staring straight into your soul, and not sleeping, or he‘s in the most fucked up position snoring away. He shouldn’t be able to be comfortable with the way his upper body is bent, but he‘s sleeping so deeply you‘d think someone beat him over the head with a metal pipe.
Now, I have a question for all of you. Would he, a.) wear some form of pyjamas, b.) be completely nude, c.) wear only his underwear, or d.) wear his whole horribly smelling suit to bed, shoes and all? You'll be the judge of that, but he would probably mould to your preferences.
Does he wear socks? Or would he use his grimy feet to warm himself on your poor thighs? Are his hands warm, or are they freezing cold? I may have just explained how his body could potentially become warm, but how would it have been the first months, if not years you've known him.
Do demons fart? Do demons cough? Do demons have dreams? Well who knows, Beetlejuice definitely does all of the above. If farting obscenely loud was an Olympic sport, he'd be holding that golf medal with his ass cheeks. Coughing is one of his talents, you'd never know at a first glance, but this dude has insane lung capacity. Does his darndest to cough as disgusting as demonly possible. Flexes on you when you caught a cold, by out-coughing you effortlessly. Uses his upper body strength for the extra nasty ones. Stays awake when you have a cold, to mimic your coughs while you sleep.
He unironically says "snork mi-mi" before going to sleep because you made fun of him for his snoring. On that note, he snores loudly. Probably has a deviated septum, and even if he doesn't actually need to breathe he snores insanely loud. You got him a pillow for his neck, so he can get better airflow while asleep. He thinks it's funny when you complain about his snoring.
Stretches like a cat in his sleep. You're not quite sure whether he does it naturally, or he just started doing it because it's funny. Is he even asleep? Only god knows, he's doing it anyways. Usually makes every bone in his body pop for extra flavouring. You've seen him dislocate a hip once, but he didn't really seem to mind, and only put up theatrics to get pity from him.
He doesn't actually need any sleep, to begin with, but he likes lying next to you. Likes how warm your body is in contrast to his, and sucks every inch of warmth out of your body. He doesn't really grow any warmer while he "sleeps" but his body temperature grows tepid, and you could almost say he grows warmer. Sleeping next to him isn't really like sleeping next to another human, but he learns to retain more heat for when the nights are extra cold.
Probably asks you to do a couple experiments to see how warm his body can actually get. Asks you to lay directly on his chest (preferably nude), and wraps his arms around you to basically crush both his and your ribcage. One day he suddenly made his body become a human-sized radiator, so you don't fucking freeze to death when winter comes. He doesn't tell you what exactly he did to find out how to become literally hot, but he seems pleased with this added development, and you're not complaining.
It's great once he's pleasantly warm, and actually tries to make sleeping next to him comfortable. This lad has big boobs, for you to lie on! He is the epitome of comfortable. He is a human-sized pillow. He is so soft. Soft tummy, soft chest, soft arms, soft everything.
Once he realises you actually enjoy spending time with him, he'll become clingier in his sleep. It must be unconscious but he sticks closer to you, while for a change not choking the life out of you. He's grown softer, his body needs your closeness, but he won't make it uncomfortable for you. He wakes up every day rested, and in a good mood.
Sleeping may be a chore in the beginning with this guy, but the real chore around here is getting him out of his fucking clothes. Does he only have one pair of underwear, one pair of discoloured socks and that ratty suit? Well, not for long, because it is now your responsibility to get him to wear something besides his usual get-up. At least long enough to wash the whole ensemble, and do some sort of pest control on it. This may lead to him being forced to take another bath, much to his dismay.
Once squeaky clean he would enjoy wool sweaters, maybe even a turtleneck. He likes the way they embrace his body in an artificial hug. Likes his clothes to be either tight, to accentuate his dad-bod, or incredibly oversized. I'm talking long-ass sleeves and probably falling off of a shoulder with how big the neckline is. What can he say, he likes to be comfy. Likes how they hide his frame, even if he pretends to not be insecure about it. He acts so over-the-top confident it's kind of obvious his confidence is damaged. He's very cute when you compliment him, basically melts into your soft touches.
Uses your perfumes to drench his suit in them, because he vehemently believes you'd never notice how dirty it gets that way. You wash the suit anyways. If you're good at altering clothes, or know just the basics of sewing, he'd love it if you added some patches, resized it, or added a personal touch to it. He likes the idea of everyone seeing how you've improved his suit, no matter how bad it looks. Gets all hazy, and flushed when he's away for work, and spots the new additions of patches, or letters on his suit sleeve.
Likes black, white, grey, and the occasional brown the most when it comes to his personal colour scheme for at-home clothes. (This of course also means that any of your favourite colours would automatically be his favourites due to association. He loves thinking of you). Don't get me wrong, he is a sucker for outrageous outfits that have no real purpose being that fucked up, but he also likes feeling warm and cared for when he's next to his favourite breather. The clothes alone remind him of you, and how you treat him. He LOVES any small reminder of you. He keeps a small vial of your favourite perfume in his suit pocket, probably a strand of hair he cut off when he first got to know you, and a note you wrote him.
Dude's a sucker for you! Does happy dances when he gets to see you again, no matter how long you two have been apart. (Cries when you leave to buy groceries without him, he'll sulk, and pout about it until you apologise for abandoning him). Whenever you're gone off to work, or school he makes sure to cook something for you. He doesn't know how to cook anything really, so you better enjoy that food poisoning, but he'll learn with time. (Think about how he'd make you two a cup of coffee, tea, or juice. You guys are matching!)
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gryficowa · 8 months
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What do the Gravity Falls and Beetlejuice fandoms have in common?
Both ship underage characters with a perennial demon
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idrawiguess · 6 months
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I’m curious to see what y’all think. Reblog for sample size and stuff
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musical-shit-show · 2 years
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The “i’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met.” Prompt screams musical juice to me, maybe something like a mutual confession?
call my bluff, call you “babe”
Pairing: Musical!Beetlejuice x Reader
Inspiration: Prompt #6 (i’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met.”) from Prompt List #1 requested by @nak3d-snak3
Warnings: anxiety, cursing, reader and bj are both dumbasses, mutual pining, light fluff
Word Count: 2,175
Author’s Note: Thank you for the request! Apologies for the delay on this, I had about a thousand words written for a different concept but scrapped it and started from scratch. As always, check out my masterlist, about me page, prompt lists, or submit an ask!
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“Oh my god, you are beyond obvious.”
“What are you even talking about, Lyds? Can’t a dead guy check himself out in the mirror every once in a while?”
The teen crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow.
“You can’t fool me, you know. I know you’re into the neighbor.” Beetlejuice scoffed at his reflection, picking worriedly at a particularly unruly patch of moss that was growing on his right temple. Lydia noticed his expression and narrowed her eyes. “And since when do you care about how you look?”
“Since always,” he deadpanned, “Haven’t you ever wondered why I wear this snazzy suit? Really makes ‘em go crazy.”
If there was one thing Beetlejuice was good at, it was using humor as a deflection tool. That, and scaring the shit out of breathers.
He didn’t scare you, though. He never did.
In fact, the first time you two met, the first time he tried to scare you, you laughed. In his face. In front of Lydia, who also burst out laughing as soon as you cracked a smile.
Even he could admit that your first encounter bruised his ego a bit, but as soon as you introduced yourself and he was able to sneak a few sideways glances, he knew he hadn’t met a breather quite like you before. Plus, it didn’t hurt that you were easy on the eyes.
It didn’t take long for the demon to fall, and fall hard. And that scared the shit out of him so much that he’d much rather pretend those feelings didn’t exist.
Sure, he was good a for laugh and a flirt whenever you made your way over to the house to visit, but he knew someone like you would never actually be with someone like him.
For fuck’s sake, he was a dead guy! A dead guy with an acknowledged sketchy past and impressive kill count. But you? You were kind, and funny without being mean, and you seemed to always know when Lydia was down and the exact remedy, which was usually whatever recipe you decided to test out that week.
And there you were, walking down the road with your plate of slightly burned snickerdoodles, ready for another night of “babysitting” Lydia. More accurately, you were giving peace of mind to Charles, who was out of town with Delia and still didn’t love the idea of his daughter alone in the house with a mischievous demon.
Plus, you didn’t mind. You had quickly bonded with Lydia, and even caught glimpses of your younger self in her from time to time. You even grew fond of Beetlejuice, much to your surprise.
He made you double over with laughter, demonstrated some of his powers while Lydia teased him about being a show off, and told you all about the Netherworld, never sparing an unsavory detail.
And before you knew it, your attraction to him hit you like a ton of bricks.
Sure, you had questionable taste in men before, but this was something else entirely. And yes, he flirted with you almost constantly, but you distinctly remember Lydia telling you that he was, quote “basically horny for everyone” so you tried to not ascribe any meaning to it.
Which only led to you keeping your feelings as close to your chest as you could.
Of course, this unresolved tension drove Lydia up the wall. It was clear to her that you two liked each other, but you were either both too stubborn or scared or outright oblivious to do anything about it.
As she stared at the demon, who was still fixated on making himself as presentable as possible, the doorbell rang. Beetlejuice’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, the tips of his hair growing a sickly yellow color.
“If I were you, Beej, I’d try to get that under control,” Lydia remarked, pointing to his hair, “You’re my best friend, but I actually like our neighbor, so don’t—”
“What, scare her off?” he scoffed, “Lyds, it didn’t work the first time, I doubt she’s gonna be put off by a little color changing. She doesn’t know what it means, anyways.” He said that last bit under his breath, folding his arms over the frayed lapels of his jacket. Though you picked up on when his usually bright green coif turned an angry red or melancholic purple, Beetlejuice hadn’t given you a full lesson in Stupid Demon Mood Ring Hair 101.
Lydia rolled her eyes and trampled down the stairs, greeting you with a smile. You said hello to Beetlejuice, who grunted a small “how goes it” before planting himself on the carpet in front of the TV. The plate of cookies you brought over was sitting on the coffee table, and you were reading a book while Lydia finished up a school art project in the kitchen.
You peered over the pages of the weathered novel to see Beetlejuice staring up at you, eyes as wide as saucers. You quirked an eyebrow at him, “Do you want to sit up here, Beej?”
As if coming out of a trance, he blinked a few times before chuckling nervously, “Only if you’re okay with me taking up some of your real estate, toots.”
“Yeah, of course,” you smirked, patting the spot right next to you, “I don’t mind.”
How you were playing it this cool, you had no idea. Sure, the two of you had exchanged a light touch here and there, but your heartbeat quickened as soon as he tested the waters by laying his head against your thigh.
You impulsively wondered how dirty his hair must’ve been, given the state of his suit. Would a demon who didn’t bother washing his clothing even think of shampooing? You shuddered slightly, but from the looks of it, his hair looked strangely well kept, albeit wild and almost having a mind of its own.
Absentmindedly, you started twirling your fingers through the strands, doing your best to act enthralled in the book you were clutching in your free hand. Much to your surprise, his hair was soft and fluffy.
Within seconds, you felt a small vibration coming from his throat. The motherfucker was purring. Actually purring. “Oh my god,” you squeal, unable to contain yourself, “you’re like a cat. That is adorable.”
Beetlejuice could’ve died a third time hearing you call him adorable. A light pink hue crept its way through his scalp.
You quirked an eyebrow, “What does pink mean?”
“Hmm?” Beetlejuice pretended like he didn’t hear you.
“The pink. In your hair.” your mouth twitched upward, examining the demon’s startled expression, “I’ve never seen your hair change color like that before. Does it mean something, or…?”
He sat up immediately, making eye contact with Lydia, who just shot him a look from the kitchen table. A look that said ‘Figure out what you’re going to say, you big, stripey idiot!’.
“Oh, uh,” he muttered, “Well—”
“I’ll be right back,” Lydia blurted, “Gotta, um, get something from my room.” As she clomped up the stairs, she couldn’t help but relish in the fact that you had managed to render Beetlejuice nearly catatonic.
“Oh, okay!” you said cheerily, setting your book down entirely and throwing your legs onto the couch. You furrowed your brow for a moment, and then turned your eye towards the demon, who sported a nervous look, the pink in his hair replaced with his usual lime green with the smallest tinge of yellow.
“What’s wrong, toots?” he attempted to come off nonchalant, “I thought we were having a great time complimenting me.”
You let out a small laugh. “Oh nothing, I was just…thinking.” You decided not to press him on the shade of his coif; you mind was starting to wander, wander towards a time only a few short months prior.
Life was so different then. Before picked up everything, moved to a new town, and leased a small cottage that was right down the road from the house you now sat in. Before you met Lydia and her parents, Charles and Delia. Before Lydia let it slip that her house was haunted and you met Adam and Barbara.
Before Beetlejuice tried to scare you. Tried being the operative word. You were never afraid of him; in fact, you thought he was fascinating at first. But as you got to know him, you could see the sweetness under the rough exterior.
“I just…you’re not at all what I expected. When I first met you, I mean.”
He grinned widely, a giddy glint in his amber eyes, “Oh, babes, I think you’ll find I’m full of surprises.”
You couldn’t help but let out a light laugh, feeling at ease around him despite your heart squeezing in your chest. You knew Beetlejuice frequently traveled to and from the Netherworld, and you were sure he had someone on the other side.
Someone far better suited for him than you could ever be.
You tried to shake that nagging feeling from the back of your mind. Despite the fact that it wouldn’t work out between the two of you, a little harmless flirting never hurt anyone, right? Still, you weren’t great at masking your emotions, and you tried your best to turn your attention elsewhere.
“Uh, so, any ideas on entertaining Lydia? A movie is always a solid choice, or we could play a board game—”
“What’s up with you?” he asked, curious with a twinge of sadness in his voice, “I thought we were doing the whole flirting thing pretty well, what happened?”
Shit. When did he become so perceptive?
“Oh, I—”
“Was it something I said?” Beetlejuice felt a rush of anxiety, trying his best to fight off that familiar feeling of abandonment from rearing its ugly head.
You couldn’t take it anymore. If you didn’t say anything at that moment, your equally debilitating insecurity would never tell him the truth.
“No, Beej it’s not that,” you said finally, picking at your nailbeds, “I just…I like you, okay? Actually like you. Way more than I was expecting, as a matter of fact. And I know that we just flirt and it’s great and fun and you probably have like, a super-hot demon girlfriend you go visit in the Netherworld or something but…I like you, and I just had to get that off my chest, okay?”
The demon was, for once, speechless.
“Please say something,” you begged, hushing your voice, “At least before Lydia comes back downstairs.”
Beetlejuice couldn’t help but simper at your uneasy state, “First off, I’m flattered you think I have a super-hot demon girlfriend,” he joked, cutting the awkwardness in the air, “But I don’t. I don’t really, uh, do that shit in the Netherworld anymore. Not since I met you.”
“What?”
“Sugar, I’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met. I thought it was you who wouldn’t want me on account of, well, this.” He gestured to his general form, smiling in a very self-deprecating way. “That’s what pink means, that I have the hots for ya.” He pointed back up at his hair, which was now almost completely changed to that same light pinkish color as before.
You shook your head incredulously, feeling like a complete idiot for not catching on sooner. You couldn’t help but let a dumbstruck grin spread across your face, not believing that your confession would actually be reciprocated.
“So, since we’re past the formalities,” he slid closer, putting his arm around you, “How’s about a little tonsil hockey before the kid comes back?”
“The kid can hear you by the way!” Lydia called from the top of the steps, “And no one says ‘tonsil hockey’ anymore, old man.” Your face grew flush, but Beetlejuice just stuck out his tongue as Lydia made her way back down the steps.
The younger girl stood in front of you and Beetlejuice, who had already staked his claim and pulled you as close to him as humanly possible. “Look, I don’t care what you do, just don’t do it in front of me, got it?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, holding back a giggle.
“Scout’s honor,” Beetlejuice chimed in, crossing his non-beating heart. He did manage to lean over and whisper in your ear, “We’ll just have to go to your place, huh babes?”
“Hmm, we’ll see,” you said coyly, “If you actually let Lydia pick the movie this time.”
“Ugh.”
“And not make a ruckus.”
“Ughhhh.”
“And actually let me pay attention to what’s on the screen for once.”
“Well, that might be hard to do. A little birdie told me you’re super into me.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ would you two stop flirting and help me pick something!” Lydia sounded as though she was ready to vomit from all the incessant teasing.
“Okay you’re right, you’re right,” you said, snuggling into the demon’s side just a bit more, “She’s gonna hate us, isn’t she?”
“Oh yeah,” he said with a smirk, “too bad we’re just getting started.”
_____
Thanks for reading, and thanks again to @nak3d-snak3 for the request!
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when people told you Beetlejuice 2 not gonna be released i bet they feel dumb right now and i was right
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beetlebitezz · 8 months
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Justin as the b-man!! 🪲🧃
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whatnownick · 28 days
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Horse Girl - chapter 1
I had an idea of like what if BJ had made previous attempts to tame a sandworm before he finally manages to in the finale? Loose worldbuilding, genfic.
You can read it here.
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avidoro · 1 year
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Holy crap. Finally home safe and sound and I am so ecstatic! First time flying. First time in New York City. First time seeing Beetlejuice the Musical and I loved every flipping moment of it! We had front row seats on September 30th. My friends managed to slap me dead ass center and it was absolutely amazing. I couldn’t be happier having Alex standing literally a foot away from me. He truly is a living cartoon character as I’ve always said and seeing him so close just proves it. He’s has so much expression and his mannerisms are great! I’m not sure what all changes have been noted but a few of the things that got me: He yelled “WAASSUUUUUUUUP!” when he popped out from behind the couch. Gently sticking his finger in Adam’s pocket and swirling it around when he said, “you make daddy so angry”. “Adam, what the shit is wrong with you?”
During his exit he sang “Jason Derulo” and during the second show we saw he yelled “FUCK BRIGADOON!” We had eight people in our front row group and our friend, Marq, was Alex’s target for the evening. We did not forewarn him about this and it was amazing seeing Marq’s reaction. He and his girlfriend absolutely enjoyed it and it was a great birthday gift to her. Marq got a kiss blown to him by Alex at curtain call. Something I’m quite envious of. Marq made sure to blow one back which appeared to make Alex very happy 😆 My friend, Gou, nearly got pelted by the cup that Alex threw which took her off guard, but she wishes it would have landed in front of her. During curtain call I pulled my phone out to record. Elizabeth saw me recording and pointed at me twice while she did her dance at the end! She’s too precious and I absolutely love her! My best friend’s husband, who hates musicals and was not keen on the idea of visiting NYC, only agreed to go see Beetlejuice the Musical because the movie is one of his absolute favorites. He went in expecting disappointment but left laughing and saying he absolutely wants to see it again but only front row. He also absolute adored Alex. In my book this is a total SUCKS YES! We saw the show again on the 2nd. Act 1 was full of goofups but I love seeing goofs in live shows! Almost lost the handbook to the trap door and Alex just stared at it for a minute. It was hanging on by a thread. The squeaky sound effect when Betelgeuse gooses Adam didn’t go off. The suicide note didn’t ignite. Delia’s dress didn’t attach to the pig so her dress never unraveled. Gou told me, during Act 2, the sound effect for Adam knocking on the door at the end of the show didn’t match up to David’s motion. Alex also blessed the audience with a very loud “WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” at the end of That Beautiful Sound that had the audience responding similarly 😂 The free swag for Sunday was a slap bracelet lol I didn’t get an October Playbill which made me sad. THEY HAVE SANDWORM PLUSHES NOW!! I also got to go see Curtain Up very close to the front and hear Alex and Elizabeth perform Say My Name. They did a brief interview as well. Alex was a goof, as always, and Elizabeth was just adorable! I took more time, the second show, to really look at the mural. I was dragged back to my own piece by Gou and my best friend’s aunt because they saw someone taking photos of my artwork. They insisted on telling them I was the artist and we had a brief discussion about it. It made me happy hearing that they loved my piece enough to take a photo to send to a friend! I was then asked to take a photo of a family in front of the mural only for my best friend’s aunt to insist they sit in front of my piece. I hate bringing attention to myself but they were so confused as to why she was making them move that I had to explain to them why she was doing it and I apologized. But instead the insisted that I not take their photo but instead get in the photo with them and it was really sweet! I don’t know what else to say except this has been amazing and I’m so happy I got to see it before the show closes in January. I wish I could see it one last time but I will forever cherish what I got.
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arseniccupcakes · 2 years
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Hi @aleestudios just sent me the photos from the #beetlejuice set we shot at c2e2 and I HAVE A LOT OF EMOTIONS LOOK HOW BEAUTIFUL THESE ARE SHES SO TALENTED🥹🥹🥹 46 days till I get to marry @dr.frankendenim 💚🖤 #beetlebabes #lydiadeetz #beetlejuicebway #altcouple https://www.instagram.com/p/CigFQgNvTl0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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POV Beetlejuice is admiring your sexy body. He’s so turned on his tie is getting an erection.
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batxmasisrjuice · 1 year
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Early development 💚
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Found here
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dichotomise · 1 year
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Brahms Heelshire, and Beetlejuice headcanons.
Basically just a ramble, on why I think they're both unable to live on their own, and be sustainable.
Mention of childhood abuse/neglect for both these boys, who would've thunk. This may genuinely be upsetting for some, but it's angst with comfort? I like men that are insecure, and depend on me.
As a general introduction I'd like to say, I think of them both as deeply scarred, and traumatised individuals. This most likely isn't surprising, since you're also most likely part of the Slasher community, but I usually try to portray them in not only a positive light. They're both touch-starved, and in need of reintegration into society. They have many needs that they need to have met, some obvious some not. I'll just be rambling here. Brahms' point of view will be answered first, and then Beetlejuice's.
They both dislike the feeling of hand cream on their palms. It's a sensory issue for both, but for completely different reasons.
Brahms wouldn't like the feeling of it because he has dry hands, bruised and weathered with use, and he hates how long it takes to seep into his skin. He hates the tacky feeling of it on his palms, so he always wipes them on his pants. His mother used to have one of those super thick, and "moisturising" hand creams, that work as good at keeping moisture in your body as vaseline. On the downside, it felt like vaseline on his palms. He never enjoyed the feeling, but he did enjoy being pampered, and taken care of. He doesn't like the feeling of hand cream as much now, and can't even stand the mere thought of it being on his hands. Who would've guessed, being locked inside the walls of your house, basically spending all of your adolescence and your adulthood in isolation, would fuck up your mental health. Plus, he remembers that his mother never even truly liked him, he was more of an accessory to her. The thought of it makes him fidget nervously, stress isn't good for the baby.
Beetlejuice on the other hand, is just plain filthy. He also loves getting attention, but he can't keep his hands still. Will always, somehow, get dirt, hair, fuzz, etc. on his hands. He probably makes it his goal to fuck up any kind of moisture that tries to enter his body. It's annoying, but you can't really blame him for being unable to keep still. He's always doing something while relaxing, playing with his hands, ripping holes in his pants, playing in his own mouth and smashing his fingernails against his teeth (he likes the sound of it), or just having both his hands in his hair. On a good day, he just cracks his knuckles, and smushes his hands against his thighs, but on not-so-good days, he'll pull on his hair absentmindedly, or even scratch his cheek open while nervously trying to calm the itch on his cheeks. Holding his hands usually helps a lot, but holding him in a full-body headlock also works. He likes listening to your heartbeat, and it'll distract him enough to snooze a little.
Bad Hygiene. They're both physically capable of cleaning, and tending to themselves, but they outright refuse because why not make you do it for them?
Brahms is, well, Brahms. What do you expect of him? The job description should've made it clear that you'll be taking care of another human full-time. Sure, it never mentioned you'd be taking care of a grown-ass man, but shit happens. You need to shower, and bathe (with) him, or all hell will break loose. If you expect Brahms to be forgiving when it comes to his schedule, you're dead fucking wrong. He won't forgive you, actually, he might as well also rip the sofa apart in deviancy. He's angry, and oh boy, you're going to have to give him space or he might take out the anger on you. Needless to say, he enjoys it when you make sure to lather up his whole body with soap, especially if you're going to spend extra time on his messy curls. He doesn't care whether you have a 15-step skincare routine made for him, or you just shove him into a warm bath with some bath bombs. As long as you spend a handful of hours dedicating your every waking moment to him, he'll be pleased. Will ask you to join him in the bath, and will pout when you reject. Don't let him manipulate you. He may be crying, but only in sound. Not a single tear has been shed.
And then there's good ol' Beetlejuice. Let's be honest, he doesn't really give a shit about personal hygiene. He's lived long enough that he just gave up on even maintaining the little semblance of hygiene he used to have. Doesn't care, scratches his ass every time you ask him to shower, and fucks off in a cloud of smoke. On the other hand, if you mention you might join him, and really turn on your charm he will momentarily forget that he is real, and stare at you wide-eyed as you lead him to the bathroom. He Short-circuits, and starts spasming, while simultaneously trying to stay calm (he fails miserably every time). Even a goddamn giggle from you would be enough for him to get your name tattooed on his chest encircled by the gaudiest heart ever. The embodiment of heart-eyes, and he'll forget to ask you when you'll be joining him in the bath, because he can't believe you are actually shampooing his hair! Your hands do sure work wonders on his skin, but I recommend putting on a double layer of glove protection for the first time, who knows you might catch some long-extinct brain amoeba. Will whine later on about not being able to see you strip, but a smack on the head will make him shut up. He obviously has a bad relationship with self-care because not even his own mother gave a shit about him. I'd like to believe that in whichever way demons start to exist, he used to borrow his mother's soap to scrub himself clean while she was at work, or asleep. She would've probably withheld food (do demons need to eat?) as punishment for waking her up. Not quite certain of the lore behind Beetlejuice universe demons, but you get what I mean. Wrap him up in a big towel to dry him off, find a massive sweater for him to be swallowed by, and he'll doze off on the couch next to you. He deserves better smh.
Inability to initiate healthy intimacy, and or, communicate their feelings. This one's obvious, right? Both of them are as emotionally mature as a grape, so the road ahead is fucking bumpy.
Brahms was, as mentioned before, locked in the walls of his house. One silly little murder, and he gets treated like a war criminal? Geneva convention who. This guy doesn't know how to articulate his emotions without manipulating the shit out of you. He's soooo pitiful, come on why aren't you bending your spine in all the wrong ways just because he's upset? Like come on, give a guy a break! He swore he'd try to work on himself when you two started officially... courting each other. He may not have said it out loud, but he knew he'd end up scaring you off like the other nannies, if he didn't get his act together. Obviously, it doesn't go all too good in the beginning. He believes he'll be able to just do it all of a sudden, and that he's in intune with his needs. Spoiler, he's not. He doesn't even know how to talk to you without making himself seem extra pitiful, and non-threatening. You don't mind obviously - the pathetic guy act, not borderline verbal abuse - and it might've taken some time for you to catch onto how he slightly flinches when his words come out harsher than intended, or how his fingers dig into his sides when he screams at you. His grief is awkward, and lopsided, but he genuinely feels bad. Maybe not out of selfless reasons, but because he's afraid to lose you. He knows he shouldn't try to hold you here against your will, he knows not to fuck up so badly that you'll never face him again, but this is hard. Just thinking about all the years he spent basically in a shell of his own prior existence just to be heard, and seen by his own biological parents. He loved them, somewhat, but ultimately he thinks of them as cruel, and heartless. Only with time will he actually realise how incredibly fucked up his childhood was, and what he did to that poor girl. Silly little murderer.
Obvious facts first, this fella has been alive for longer than you could feasibly even imagine in your small-minded human brain. He's lost himself along the way, or maybe he's found himself? He's picked up things along the way, ways to get his way when striking a deal, or how to avoid a worse fate than he already has. Think of how many times he ripped off people, innocent or not, stolen objects worth more than your whole family's worth in organs alone, and probably wiped his hands clean of it once he grew bored of the endless chase. He sure as fuck doesn't know how to be his own authentic self, if there even is such a thing. He hardly knows himself, he's come to know an idea of himself that is void of attention, love, and any form of comforting touch. He can distinguish right from wrong, but as an existence, he has different morals from humans. Why should he care about the ethics of stealing shit, when he can just have fun while he's still a human until he gets hitched? He has a billion walls inside his head, protecting the sweet gooey core of his existence from outside influence. A tragic childhood will do that for you. On the bright side, he's easy to mould, like warm clay ready to become something bigger, something better. He's spent the last thousands of years wallowing in his own self-pity after realising he'll never be human, so he'll at least give it a try to become better. It will take a lot of effort, and time for him to stick to routines, but you can see that he tries. It's cute, he fails often, relapses even, but he comes to you for comfort. He may not know how to talk to you about his real feelings, beyond harsh lust and adoration, but he knows you make him feel better after he fucks up majorly. Is mainly motivated by the fear of losing you. He is convinced he will end up scaring you away because of something he did or said. He's a big goof, with a big heart, and a load of cringe.
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gryficowa · 2 years
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Nobody:
Me walking around the apartment:
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No shit, I keep my hands like that every time
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gayron · 1 year
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Can’t get over her amazing riffs in her second showw aghhhhhhh, QUEEN BEE moment fr. I wanna watch her over and over againn :’(((
audio from king : @medium-observation  
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