"If you touch her, I will not hesitate to break every bone in your hand."
A/N: I decided that I'll be doing prompt fills/writing requests in between my longer fics! If you have any prompts or requests you'd like to see, shoot me an ask with the prompt, character(s) and/or ship you'd like! They'll probably be between 3k-5k but with my track record, who knows.
Anyway, onto the fic!
Prompt: "If you touch her, I will not hesitate to break every bone in your hand."
Requester: @beetlejuicebrainrot
Warnings: Predatory behavior (some schmuck), mild violence
Word Count: 1,786
Read on AO3
The mall was crowded, which wasn't surprising for 1 PM on a Saturday. Beetlejuice chattered excitedly beside Lydia as they headed towards the food court, his arms heavy-laden with bags from the various stores they had stopped at. Most of it were things that Lydia had picked out, some clothes, a couple of games, and some other crap, though Beetlejuice had gotten a few things as well.
They were saving Hot Topic and Spencer's for last, knowing they'd blow the majority of their budget on the two stores. Beetlejuice liked the band shirts and the barely-safe anime girl shirts, as well as any striped shit either store had, whereas Lydia went for the box dies, anything with belts and ripped tights and the anime she liked to watch.
She really needed to convince Beej to pierce his ears. At Claire's. It wasn't the same if you didn't get a wicked infection from their shitty-ass gun. She was still working on the argument she'd use, but she already had about a dozen earrings picked out for him to wear.
Other than the budget issue, the other reason the two stores were last was because they had a little game every time they went to the mall. Whoever could steal the most buttons without getting caught won. Beej had Spencer's, and Lydia had Hot Topic. The other would distract the workers and pay for the non-button items. Fuck capitalism.
Dropping their shit at one of the cleaner, empty tables, Lydia sat down, pulling out her phone to see if anyone had messaged her while she had been distracted. The only text she had was from Delia, saying to call her when they were ready to be picked up, though she did have a few Discord notifications from her friends.
"Hey, what'd'ya want from the Homophobic Chicken Place?" Beetlejuice asked, leaning half-way across the table to get her attention. When she didn't look up quick enough he plucked her phone from her hand and pretended to eat it.
"Hey!" she snatched it back and slapped him on the shoulder, only making him laugh loud enough that the tables around them shot them dirty looks. Shove off, they were in a public spot, if they wanted to be loud they would. "Why do you always want that? Aren't you, you know, being a class traitor?"
Beetlejuice snorted and flashed her a toothy grin. "Like that matters to me, plus, 's not like it's our money. If anything, it's your dad and Delia who're the traitors. And, I mean, their chicken's the best, way better than that Popeye's shit. And c'mon, waffle fries? You can't go wrong with waffle fries. So, what do ya want? Or starve, I don't give a shit."
"Get me some nugs, and a milkshake," she shoved his face away until he was off the table and began to go through one of the bags to show her friends what she got. "Don't forget the sauces." She knew he wouldn't, he liked to combine and drink the leftover sauces like some kind of middle-schooler, but better remind him just in case.
"Alright, I'll get all the sauce for you, every single one they have," he sing-songed as he grabbed her wallet and headed towards the ever-growing line.Ā
Lydia found what she was looking for and pulled it out, taking a quick picture to send in her different servers. As she was typing out a good message to go along with it, she saw someone sit across from her. Assuming it was Beetlejuice, she quirked an eyebrow without looking up. "What did you forget, dumbass? Your brain?"
"Well, looking at ya makes me forget my own name, doll, does that count?"
Thatā¦ wasn't Beej. Lydia put her phone down and took in the person sitting across from her. Some skinny dude in an ahegao shirt, and the beginnings of a neckbeard stared back at her with a smug smile. Lydia curled her lip at him, which only made him grin harder.
"Can I help you?" she asked, not bothering to hide her disgust
"Maybe you can. See, I've been watching you for a little bit, and my buddies bet I'd be too chicken-shit to ask you out."
"Creepy," she muttered, fiddling with her phone. She debated texting Beej, but a glance at the line showed he was ordering and she didn't want to bother him. She was old enough to handle creepy dudes herself, she could do this. "Dude, I'm 15."
"And I'm only 22," he shrugged, missing the point completely. "We could be in the same school, if I had gotten held back a few years. So, what do you say?"
"Ugh, yeahh, I don't think so. Can you leave?" She narrowed her eyes at him, but his expression didn't change. "I don't even know who you are, creep."
"Oh, I am so sorry! I forgot to introduce myself!" The guy got out of the chair and onto a knee, grabbing her hand tight enough she couldn't pull away. He brought it up to his lips and kissed it, ignoring her grossed out protests, and winked. "I'm Johnathon Giles, at your service. And, I could really be of service."
She kicked him in the knee, and he winced. "Ohh, feisty, I like that."
"What the hell is wrong with you, douchebag? Leave me alone," She ripped her hand out of his, wiping it on her leggings and aiming another kick at him. He stood up and shimmied behind her. "Fuck off."
"Come on, babe, I'll-" He started, hand curling around her shoulder. His words were cut off by a pained whimper and Lydia craned her head around to see Beetlejuice had the man's arm twisted behind his back.
"If you touch her, I will not hesitate to break every bone in your hand," Beetlejuice warned coldly, releasing him and shoving him away a few steps. He stood at Lydia's side and she was sure if it weren't for the glamor he had on, and the beanie covering his hair, his anger would be extremely evident.Ā
"Who's this guy? Your boyfriend? You sure know how to pick 'em, girl," the man rubbed his shoulder before grinning down at Beetlejuice. He was taller than Beej by quite a bit, but Beej had several pounds on the twig. "Hey, I'm up for a threesome."
"Listen, I'm a very sexual being," Beetlejuice grinned, though it lacked any humor. Even pretending to be human, there was suddenly something dangerous about him, a sharp warning. Lydia always forgot how scary Beetlejuice could be when he wanted. "And I do love a good threesome, but not with creepy guys who pick on little girls. And especially not with fuckers who can't take a no."
Johnathon stood up fully and his face finally changed from the overly friendly smile he had plastered on into a glare. "She didn't say no."
"She told you to fuck off, I'm pretty sure me and the rest of the fuckin' mall heard it," Beetlejuice tilted his head slightly to the side as he took in the man before him.
Johnathon scoffed and turned back to Lydia. "What do you say we ditch your fatass boyfriend and go have some real fun, sweety." He made the mistake of touching one of her hands that she had curled over her phone and Beetlejuice stepped forward menacingly.
"I warned ya," he growled, eyes narrowed into slits. In a movement that was impressively quick, he had the guy in a headlock, arm twisted so hard behind his back Lydia heard an audible pop as it dislocated. Johnathon made an alarmed, pained noise, but something kept him from screaming. "You're lucky I'm not allowed to kill ya," he hissed, twisting his arm further until Johnathon was begging for mercy. "Because no one messes with my little sister."
"S-s-s-she's your sister?" the guy yelped, squeaking sharply as his arm was wrenched further behind him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll go, I'll go!! Ow, ow, ow, you're going to break my arm!"
"Get the fuck outta here, before I really do break it." He let go of the guy and Johnathon stumbled forward only to be stopped by Beetlejuice grabbing him by the uninjured shoulder. He whirled around and Beetlejuice kneed him in the junk, making him bite out a pained, cut-off shriek as he doubled over. "That's for being a fucking creep."
"Fuck you," the guy spat, glaring up at Beetlejuice with watering eyes. Beetlejuice just raised an eyebrow and stepped forward, cracking his knuckles, and the guy balked and ran back to his friends who all immediately started laying into him.
Turning back to Lydia, he tilted his head, all anger gone and replaced by worry. "He didn't hurt'cha did he?"
"No, he just grossed me out a little. You wouldn't happen to have any hand sanitizer on you?" She regretted not wearing a pair of gloves today, she could still feel his lips against her hand. Beetlejuice dug around in his pockets before his eyes lit up and he pulled out a travel-sized, fruity-scented bottle of sanitizer.
"Was gonna drink this but here ya go," he offered it to her and she snagged it from his hands before opening it.
"You're weird. Why not just drink a soda?"
"Doesn't burn the same," he shrugged, accepting it back and shoving it back into his pocket for later. She raised her eyebrows as she rubbed her hands together and he grinned. "What?"
"You're weird. Hey, what about the food?"
He gestured to two bags and two drinks on the table, the opposite side from where everything had happened. "I got it to go. Wanna bounce or?"
She thought about it. She could still feel the dude's eyes glaring at her from across the food court, well, at Beetlejuice really. But she had a feeling he wouldn't be a problem, and plus they still had to end with their game! It wouldn't be a trip to the mall without it!
"Mmm, nah, we still have to go to the best stores here," she decided, grabbing the closest bag and opening it. "Also I totally had that under control. I always carry a knife and mace on me."
Beetlejuice took the seat across from her and grinned, knowing she was right. "Yeah, but what kind of bro would I be if I let someone pick on ya? A bad one, that's what. Plus, I'd never hear the end of it from Chuck 'n Adam, y'know? Andā¦" Lydia tossed him his stupid sandwich and he thankfully ripped the paper open instead of taking a bite through it. "I like beating up people sometimes."
And Jonathan Creek solves crimes by making everything about his special interest and having an annoying nosy bitch friend who likes reading people for filth when itās as inconvenient for them as possible
I LOVE murder mystery and Iām by no means an expert in it but Iāve seen enough examples of the genre across its history (mainly focused on British examples of the genre bc my tastes tend towards tropes that link back to the Golden Age aka Agatha Christieās most prolific years) to say that I find the broad trends and how the genre has developed FASCINATING.
Like, taking the above detectives as keynote examples and focusing almost solely on British trends. You start off with guys who are portrayed as superhuman intelligent, then you add emotional and social context, then you get detectives who do all of the above but also pretend to be stupid, and then in the 80s/90s we had this wave of hyper-specific non-detectives that solved crime in niche ways. Dirk Gently is more detective fiction and sci fi than strictly murder mystery, but Jonathan Creek solving crime using his background in magic tricks is a good one, and thereās also Rosemary and Thyme, which is about two women solving crime using their background in gardening and horticulture (I liked it mostly but also found it frustrating because they only used the most obvious poisons and they were right there itās like LADIES you are standing in a field of foxgloves going āI wonder what could have caused burning on the skin and respiratory issues and sudden deathā). Then in the 90s onwards you also have the blurring of the procedural and the murder mystery with long-running shows about one (1) village that has so many murders you start to wonder how there can be anyone left to do the murders/be murdered next week/solve the murder.
And Iām soooo obsessed with Benoit Blanc because he takes notes from Christie trope-wise (it is correct to gather all the suspects into a luxurious house and pull some dramatic nonsense to get a confession), but instead of the billionth stale and misguided take on Holmes (superhuman intelligence, emotions bad, we must be objective) he takes character notes from Columbo and Marple (āI donāt care if you think Iām stupid lol xoxo gossip girlā), Poirot (āI have good intuition for emotional context and I believe it is vital and also Iām just a weird little guyā), Father Brown and Dirk Gently (will randomly say shit that makes you want to go āwhat ??????ā), and he has so much flavour of his own. If all the little crime guys above solve crime x way, Benoit Blanc solves crime by being patient. Which, in our current world where everything is now and if it isnāt now itās already ancient, and you have to finish it today, and 9 new cool things might happen in the next week and you canāt partake in all of them, and everything is on sale 75% off just for 24 hours, and you have to buy this and go here and take this opportunity
He is just sittin there quietly, hitting keys on his piano and waiting for gravity to bring the truth to him.
I think something that can be unironically helpful as a trans person is reclaiming the childhood you didn't get.
I didn't have the childhood I wanted - the one I needed - and now as an adult, I am honouring who I never got to be. I'm doing all the stuff kid me never felt he could do for fear of being unloved. I'm setting my child self free, and it's leading me to accepting not only my past but my present and my transness.
However it looks for you, whatever feels safest for you, honour your child self. They did the best they could, just like you are now.
discoholicmusic
stormborns
areudirty
dailybridgerton
blakekathryn
kianamaiart
jbbartram-illu
