Keni
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
taylor price
will byers stan first human second
Cosimo Galluzzi
Discoholic 🪩
DEAR READER
we're not kids anymore.
RMH
wallacepolsom
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
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Peter Solarz
Claire Keane
JVL
dirt enthusiast
tumblr dot com
Not today Justin
$LAYYYTER
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Liechtenstein
seen from Malaysia
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seen from Türkiye
seen from Chile
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@salacious-notfound
Sometimes I swear I only use Tumblr to get ideas for how to describe nsfw scenes in my writing. Like both in my stories and in my role play server XDD
Me: (someone versed in writing fanfic and fiction) I keep using the same phrases 😑 time to tumbl
Tumblr: Here, have these curated documents made by fellow perverts 🤗 (that are often times way better than anything else you can find on the internet)
So okay, i guess I need to admit I do cosplay. And this is one of my favorite videos I did today 🤭.
This is my oc Salvatore!
He is a cardinal in the Ghost universe (the band yes), who happens to get himself into trouble quite often. Though usually not literal trouble, he likes to have fun 😏.
Cannon lore for the AU he would technically have to exist in: He is an Incubus. He is from Italy. He is gayer than a TerzoxOmega fanfic and he finds himself being overly helpful. Not that he wants to be, but he feels like he has to be with the hand that life has dealt him.
He is also my favorite OC to cosplay by far 🙂↕️, there is something satisfying about dressing up like a 5’10 Italian demon Cardinal and parading myself around in-front of a camera or around town.
Also learned that my trench coat goes GREAT with his cassock look 😎
I got my first review. It was a 4 star, which is better than nothing 💃. They were pleasantly surprised by the ghouls and demons, which I hope is a good thing here!
We are up to 11 copies with one review, those are rookie numbers lol but hopefully I can get those up. After all, gothic romance and dark romance are fun reads, especially when you are thrown into the warm embrace of a surly italian man, a shy Californian cardinal and find yourself taunted by the devil himself.
Home to the author and artists of 'Between the Powers', and other future projects.
It was inevitable that I would make a small post over here, but the time has come for my once in a blue moon post 🙂↕️.
After three years, lots of debating, biting my tongue and random editing I have published a book. I know, weird.
But I did!!!
It is a gothic/dark romance fiction aaaaaaand it would be easier if I gave you the post I actually wrote for this 😅.
~Ahem~
Hidden in a world of twisted steel, hand-carved marble, and stone comes the meek and traumatized as they learn to regain strength and power. Empowered by the very sins that broke them, they live free in lavish debauchery.
Gale has been a member of this ministry for a little over a year when she finds herself pulled into one of the most auspicious rituals that any member could be involved in. Even though she fails due to previous traumas bubbling up, it does not deter interested parties from pursuing her in not-so-subtle ways.
What starts off as a whirlwind relationship opens her upto the darker world behind the curtain of-the clergy. A vindictive Abbess steps out of the shadows as she begins her personal mission against the triad.
What should have been harmless sin has instead pulled Gale into an ever-evolving nightmare that throws her back and forth, challenging her ability to stay afloat and make it out intact.
Even with the guidance of others and the hand of an old 'friend,' the weight of her world lands on her shoulders. She has to choose. Italy or California?
Her timid Judas or the sweet Alessandro?
Life? Or Death...
~Come now~
It is time to jump Between the Powers…
Find my paperback and eBook options at the Lascivious Archives or Barnes and Noble
We’ve expecting you…
No AI was used to make, or edit the book, or cover art. Nor has AI been used in designing any graphics I use to futilely try and get peoples attention. Just me learning how to do graphics very slowly lol.
And for good measure, some key jingling.
-jingle jingle jingle-
Nobody has made me feel safer or more respected than the filthy perverted freaks I was warned about.
me and my homies support real artists who put their passion into their pieces instead of a machine who rips off the hard work of talented peeps
~🪳🦟The Bug🦟🪳~
I see you there.
Lingering on the outskirts of my vision.
Dancing in the shadows of my past.
Waiting. Watching. Judging.
Like a fly on the wall, a roach on the floor.
To fast for me to catch, but to slow to be invisible.
I know if I burn down this house,
You will no longer be there to watch me.
Perhaps moved on to another victim.
One who has yet to know the taste of your venom,
The buzz of your wings.
The glimmer of your eyes.
But if I burn down the house,
Then i will have to accept that there was a fly on my wall,
A roach on my floor.
Watching. Waiting. Judging.
Say I lay a trap,
A sticky one with honey,
You will come for a feast.
But maybe you are a smart bug.
A smart bug might see the trap,
An evil bug would taunt me with the trap.
Maybe you are an evil bug,
A fly who hovers above the trap,
Tempting your feet might touch its honey.
Only to flee.
A roach who wanders the edge,
Your antennae touching the sweet treat
Staring at me with your hexagonal eyes.
Judging. Watching. Waiting.
Damn this bug.
Lingering in the shadows,
Under tables,
Out of reach.
Always out of reach,
To far to spray,
To far to squish,
Close enough to annoy.
Why can’t the insect crawl off to bother another,
Leave me alone you menace.
Always watching.
Always waiting.
Always judging.
Dancing in the shadows,
Lingering in the corners of my vision.
Taunting me…
I think it is sad to hear that Tobias might be doing away with more lore, but at the same time i get it. It takes a lot of work to do music, and tour dates and merch and band recruitments etc.etc.etc. It would be cool to see a final iteration of the lore where we get closure to the story he had created. Ending it with the band being passed off to him (sans mask and character) to continue playing music that people love.
If he does do away with lore, the fandom can always continue our own worlds. Just as we have for years, we write our own stories and become fans of the lore that other fans have weaved. Creating a tapestry of our own worlds, theories and art.
Primo headcannons
Because we love the old man
As the oldest brother he often felt responsible for Terzo and Secundo and would take the blame if they acted out.
In his 20’s he had a girlfriend names Mona that he loved dearly. She passed away during childbirth leaving him to grieve. In his sorrows he turned to caring for the garden she left behind.
He likes to make tea when people come visit. Often times making one of several fruit flavored teas.
He keeps his hair long. It used to be blonde but it has turned white with age.
He paints his nails sometimes, wishing he could get acrylics done for halloween
Before he died, he often held reading groups for other members in his age group so they didn’t feel alone like he did.
He was distraught learning that Terzo had been dragged off stage.
this blog hates donald trump
Look how many people hate him. I’m pretty damn happy about that 😁😁😁😁😁😁
I’ve never reblogged something so fast
Me too!
Papa II Head cannons
Traumatized edition.
He used to party a lot when he was younger and gave it up for a few decades after a really bad car wreck that resulted in a month in the hospital.
Secundo, when he was alive, had a hobby of playing board games with the ghouls in exchange for favors. (Like someone would deal with his brothers for the week and not him)
Doesn’t mind when the others make fun of him for being bald. He gets more tail than them anyway.
Once pushed Terzo down the small flight of stairs that lead up to the front door.
When Primo said he wanted to retire, Secundo played it cool but was secretly nauseous the whole time.
Sec enjoys the smell of fresh cut grass and freshly peeled oranges.
When he was younger he threw water balloons at Nihil from the catwalks.
He had a Girlfriend who died in a wreck (when he was 17).
While he looks the meanest, he is the most understanding of the brother. Often times helping those who find themselves struggling with things like depression.
The only reason he has a staff is because he thought it made him look cooler than Primo. And was instantly jealous that Terzo had claw gloves made.
Grim
My beautiful dark ghoul. I love drawing him so much. Forgive my ass drawing skills.
Exciting news!!
I have a book coming out this year!!!
Currently it is in the beta read process, but fingers crossed it goes live by august. 309 pages of drama, s*x, and murder!
Terzo Headcannons
Because i thought about them
The most lighthearted of the brothers ans can enjoy a good joke
Usually was the one to organize game nights like the one that got them killed because he enjoyed hanging out with them.
When he was beheaded they used golden thread to sew him back up because Copia felt guilty that they did that.
Used to mock Secundo for having darker music
Would help Primo in the garden from time to time as long as he got to collect some flowers for his chambers.
100% was dating Omega and loved to tease him on stage because it got him riled up for after the show.
When he gets really sick he would whine and need someone to look after him.
Was by far the most manipulative of the brothers, likely had an ability akin to a true silver tongue and loved using it in Circe.
Papa Perpetua Headcannons
Because I can
He doesn’t like to talk much as he feels a little self conscious about his voice
Quietly makes fun of Copia’s track suits
He experiences possession, mainly from the previous dead papa’s but doesn’t mind because that how he can talk to family that is gone (unlike seeing them like Copia can)
When he was younger he 100% made fun of Secundo by playing random Pitbull songs.
He enjoys quiet time in the ministry, finding it peaceful when the Ghouls and everyone go to bed.
Has 100% shaken a soda for a prank and forgot, opening it on himself.
Is the broodiest of all the brothers, and will dramatically billow his cape on purpose.
Wears his cassock more often than not as it is more comfortable and wouldn’t have to wear pants
BeeJ Fic (will go on AO3 later)
Quick thing: This is an AU that takes parts from the movies, cartoon, and musicald. There is no Beetlebabes. This is an AU where Beej and Solan often hang out since Lydia is either busy or doesn't want to see him.
Three months. Three long, gross, and quite frankly disturbing months. It has been three months since I had appeared at the old Deetz house in Winter River, Connecticut. My friend had taken me out for a photography session, all wildly eager to get inside the home-turned-art installation. Lydia had left years ago after graduation, and her stepmother Delia and her husband had moved back to the city. Leaving the home to rot until they recently opened it up to the public to view her art. Though many of those in Winter River weren’t exactly fond of the contemporary stylings of Delia, it became a cult sight for those of us who enjoy the strange and obscene.
Well, strange was certainly one way to put it. Andredora found enjoyment in the visit, far more than I had. The space felt off, like perhaps it was against my best interest to be there, being inside its white walls and wandering between the well-maintained farmhouse first floor and the dark 80s second. Delia certainly had visions for her art, strange sculptures. One of which was a large rattle snake with the head of a man, the teeth straight out of a Tim Burton movie. While she got an album worth of pictures of us, I found a different souvenir. See, on the first floor was a model of the town when it was barely big enough to even really be called such. The buildings were all hand-painted and covered in a thin layer of dust; the lights had burnt out years ago. It was a rather perfect depiction of what small town USA really meant, before the early 2000’s took over and gutted any character that had existed. Everything had its place, but when I had studied the carefully gnarled tree in the graveyard, I noticed something out of place.
It wasn’t unusual to have a model, complete with graveyards and the more macabre parts of life. But a coffin was certainly not in the norm. It’s not like it was glued down either, so when I had poked at it and it slid down the hill, it’s not like it was a surprise that I took it with me. Andredora got to have something from this trip, and the ghosts who made the model were long gone it seemed, so fair was fair.
What wasn’t fair, or rather likely deserved was what came with the coffin. We had returned home to the other side of the country, back to our own little niches and worlds, Andredora disappearing to work on the photos for her portfolio. I on the other hand had to go back to work, so after unpacking and leaving the coffin on my desk you could imagine my surprise when I returned home to a little man perched on its edge. He couldn’t be bigger than a Polly pocket doll, and he certainly looked like he had been dragged through the mud a few dozen times. His receding hair was a frazzled messy blonde that was tinted green likely due to moss or mildew. And the black and white striped suit he wore had certainly seen better days, he looked almost as if someone had left a little crabby zombie on the coffin. Maybe right then and there I should have thrown out the coffin, never to read the name on it, never to have talked to the bizarre little man.
“Beej! I’m home! You better be out of my room.” I shouted as I pushed open the door to my little apartment. The hot afternoon air rushed past me to take up residence in the cold of my space, though as I shut the door behind me it was rather quickly fixed. Everything was oddly quite; the only real noise came from the rattling of my AC unit in the bedroom.
With I sigh, I kicked out of my black flats, leaving them strewn by the door with abandon knowing that I would come by later and pick them up. For now I just wanted to decompress, and find where ever the hell my room pest was hanging out.
“Beetlejuice, come on. Don’t make me say it three times.” I shouted once more, dropping my leather purse on the couch to be swallowed by the dense plush pillows. My gaze flickered around the room. His coffin was still up on the shelf next to the vintage books we had gotten from the antique shop and the spiderweb fairy light he protested were still hung up and twinkling. My laptop on the desk was closed, accompanied by a mess of pencils and scribbles, and even the kitchen was together. Usually he would have found some way to disturb the chaotic balance I frequently held in my home. But it was eerily quiet right now.
Treading silently through the small one-bedroom apartment, I made my way towards my room. My fingertips trailed along the wall as I steadied myself, hoping that I wouldn’t have to start shouting. Reaching the door, I placed my palm flat on its fake wood and gave a small push. The loose hinges creaked softly as it swung open to display a more… unusual scene.
Normally I expected to see him being a perve, maybe rummaging through my underwear drawer or the ever so classless browsing a playboy in my bed. I could even consider normal being Beetlejuice smoking a cigarette while waiting for me to appear so that he could make a terrible comment. But no, that’s not at all what I found. Rather, the ghost was lain in my bed, curled up around one of my body pillows. I would go so far to say it was cute, if it wasn’t for the beetle I watched go skittering through the wispy strands of hair.
Standing there silently, I look over the undead as he rest. It was almost as if he would feel me watching him, his head whipping around to stare me dead in the eyes.
“Oh uh, hey babes.” He grunted as he quickly separated himself from the pillow, his body finding it’s self a few inches off the mattress. “Didn’t think you’d get home so quickly. I bet you were just dyin to see me.”
I rolled my eyes at the comment and leaned against the door frame, the chains of my skirt clattering against the wood. “What did I say about being in my room Beej?
“Ah come on babes, it’s not like I am doing anything wrong, just a little nap. Even the dead need sleep, the whole rest in peace thing.” The demon said as he shrugged at me, adjusting his body so that he was on his stomach floating closer.
“I swear you probably have fleas or some shit, come on. Out.” I huffed, stepping to the side as I gestured for the demon to leave. He pouted at me for a second before disappearing in a cloud of hazy green smoke. Ugh. Again I looked around my room, scouting for any drummed-up chaos but again there was nothing out of place. Aside from the rumpled purple duvet on my bed and the Beetlejuice sized imprint that lay outlined amidst my pillows the rest of the room was fine.
“Why do you insist on being in my room? Don’t you have a coffin you can sleep in? Or a friend to harass while I am working?” I shout as I sauntered down the hall to my little galley kitchen where I could hear him rummaging through the cabinets.
“Uuuuh, Lydia? She got bored of me. Teenagers, am I right?” he called back, though his raspy voice was very quickly followed by the clattering of Tupperware falling from a cabinet. “Can’t hang out in the box either Solan, you have to send me back for that.”
As I rounded the corner, Beetlejuice had thrown the dishes into the sink and propped himself against the counter as if he wasn’t doing anything.
“So you want me to send you back to the Netherworld? I can do that if you want Beetlejui-” A hand clamped down over my mouth as Beetlejuice moved as if someone lit a fire under his ass.
“Ex nay on the B word babe’s. Besides, I don’t need to hang out in that place. Got a whole apartment to haunt here.” He said giving me that sleezy grin he so typically wore when trying to get me to laugh. Pulling his hand away from my face, I shot him a partial glare before sauntering to my couch.
“Aww com’on babes, don’t give me a cold shoulder.” He groaned in protest, his shoulder growing a thin sheet of ice. “What do I have to do to win you over huh? You like to rain on my parade here.” And on cue a minuscule thunder cloud appeared over head to dump its contents on him.
“I don’t know.” I murmured as I watched his antics. “Has no one ever told you, you can be a bit much after a long day at work?” My irritation was beginning build, I knew I shouldn’t be mad at him for just being him. But after an 8-hour shift of being screamed at by little old church ladies I was done.
“Work! EUgh, I prefer to have a little fun. Have to liven up being dead somehow.” Beetlejuice said with a chuckle as he sauntered his way closer, hands now jammed in the pockets of his black and white striped pants. I could tell he was thinking by the way he looked at me, those yellowish eyes seemed to linger on my face for longer than usual. That is before quickly shooting down to my legs. Throwing a pillow at him I sat up quickly and pulled a blanket over my knees. “Whoa hey! Nothing wrong with admiring the body art hun.”
“Dude, just leave me alone for two fucking seconds. Damn!” The irritation in my voice was harsher than I expected, though to be fair I had been struggling all week to keep myself together and he certainly didn’t help. Covering my face with my hands I smudge the remnants of my eyeshadow. “Can you please just drop the fucking act for two seconds and let me relax? Hell be some semblance of normal. And… and stay out of my room.”
I watched his face dropped quickly, usually when I told him off, he retorted with some half assed sarcastic joke. But this time he looked hurt. I opened my mouth to apologize for being short with him, but it was too late. He had already disappeared, though to where was beyond me.
“Damn it…”
With a sigh I flopped back onto the couch, my hand coming to my face as if my fingertips could rub away the stress I felt in my jaw. Maybe I shouldn’t snap at him, it’s not like I didn’t figure this out early one that he was obnoxious. This could also be my punishment for lifting the coffin from the house in Connecticut. That kind of thinking wasn’t helping the guilt that now pooled in my stomach. Rolling my head to the side, I searched the wall as if it held answers for me. The mounted TV surrounded by frames of pinned insects and bones only reflected back the image of myself. My face, split between 28 different panes of glass. Each one wearing the same grimace, the same baggy work shirt and messy pony tail. When did I get so fucking boring?
Pushing myself up, my head swiveled again, hoping to catch a glimpse of where he ran off to. Getting mad at him for being a bit of an odd job was like getting mad at a crab for pinching, justified but not avoidable when you interact with them daily. Sucking in a deep breath, I swing my legs over the edge of the couch and stand up again shuffling towards my bedroom where I assumed he would be hiding again.
“Beetlejuice, I’m sorry that was… mean I…” I run my hand through my greasy blonde hair and frown a I walked in. The ghost was nowhere to be seen.
“BJ? Where you hiding?” I called out once more as I made my way towards the bathroom. The only other room that he could logically be in before I needed to start getting really worried.
“Beej?”
“Here babes.” Rasped the tone I had grown rather familiar with. Pushing open the door I spotted him perched on the edge of the bathtub like a curious cat. The faux porcelain tub was filled with soapy water and I could see the disgust and discomfort on his face as he looked back at me.
“I would never touch this stuff for anyone. Being clean is for you stiffs.” He grumbled as he shut off the water and eased himself away from the edge. I couldn’t help the smirk that crept across my face.
“Then why?” I ask, gesturing to the tub as I sauntered closer.
“You said I was too much. And well, usually you aren’t a cold cow, so I figured you… needed something nice.” He said, though not without a grimace, as if being nice was a crime.
“Heh, so you ran a bath for me huh?” I sighed slightly as I bent down to touch the water. Though as I did, I could feel his eyes roam across me guiltlessly. Fucking perve hah. “I suppose a bath is a nice gesture. Though an apology for being a pain in the ass would have been nice too.”
“I ain’t ever apologize to anyone except for one broad, and well. She deserved it the most.” His words forced my eyebrow to flick up with mild confusion before returning to my resting glare. He was likely talking about Lydia again, the two of them used to be thick as thieves according to the stories he’s told me. Even if many of them seemed a bit out of this world and unrealistic.
“Yeah, you wouldn’t.” I say flatly as I stand back up, flicking the soapy water from my hand in his face as a taunting gesture. Beetlejuice gagged, his face turning cartoonishly green as he proceed to wipe off his face with fervor.
“Eugh! Don’t touch me with that stuff! I ain’t taken a bath in over 200 years, if I get clean I lose my funk.” He grunted, flicking the collar of his black and white suit jacket up. Rolling my eyes I looked down to the water once more then back to him.
“Do you mind?”
“Aww come on babes, I have been here for months. Do you think I haven’t gotten a peak at your yams yet?”
“Gross Beej.” My nose crinkles up as I dip my hand in the water again, threatening to splash him once more. He got the idea, floating away from me with his hands up until he was outside the bathroom door. Closing it in his face, my attention returns to the water. The frothy bubbles a welcoming sight, even though my mind still lingered on the fact that I had snapped at Beetlejuice. He had been living with me for months, being a right terror sometimes, and I of course had shouted at him many times for being a pain in my ass. But normally he would shrug it off, make a lewd comment and find something else to do until my mood had improved. This time he didn’t though.
With a groan my fingertips tug at the hem of my loose cotton work shirt, pulling it up and off over my head. The skirt was next, a long zipper pull sent the black canvas down my legs and pooling at my feet. Kicking it to the side, my underwear was shed next before I quickly hopped into the bath. The water was hot and stinging for a moment, as if I had just thrown myself into a soapy hot tub. But my skin reddened and I acclimated to the warmth, relaxing into its embrace as I breathed in the steam. Sinking in further, my gaze floats to the ceiling, counting the faces I could see in the outdated popcorn ceiling. Some were smiling, some were gaunt and haunting like their souls had gotten stuck there by mistake. My mind wander as I glanced around the tiny bathroom. I wonder how many ghost have lived in my house that I haven’t seen… How many have watched my life and have tried to chase me off or creeped on me. Why was it only Beetlejuice that I could actually see? Or fuck even summon? If I could summon any ghost by repeating their name then why hadn’t my mother ever shown up? Maybe it doesn’t work when drunk out of your fucking mind.
Scooping up a handful of bubbles I threw them at the tiled wall in front of me. Of all Ghosts to be stuck with in the whole of human history… But he wasn’t terrible I guess I could be stuck with Henry the VIII or maybe Vlad the Impaler. At least he has tried to adapt to modern life, though how he landed on 80’s sleazebag is the real mystery. Still there was charm in it. Running my hand through my hair, I sink down further into the water, submerging myself enough that my nose barely was above the swirling suds. My hair was soaking in the water as if it were dry straw being submerged for the first time after a long summer.
“Wow, even getting all cleaned up you are still a looker.”
I pushed myself up out of the water quickly, looking around for where he was sitting this time. Why I expected to have a bath alone was a certainly a dream these last few months. Swiveling my head around, I spot him sitting on the counter, a cigarette hanging from his mouth as he adjusts his tie.
“Do you have literally anything else to do other than creep on me?” I grumbled, covering my chest with my hands as I stare at him from the tub with mild irritation once more.
“Nope. Being dead usually can be pretty boring, and eh, a pretty little thing like you is too beautiful to ignore.”
My face feels warm as I sneer at him. “Beej, I asked you not watch me. It feels awkward having a guy around all the time.” He shrugs as he flicks the ash of the end of his cigarette, the remnants falling to the white tile.
“You didn’t shout at me for laying in your bed earlier.” He starts, dropping the rather sarcastic mask that he normally wore. “And you didn’t question the bath invitation either, hell sounded like you were coming to apologize to me even.” I open my mouth in protest, the words failing me for a moment as I watch his gaze linger on my face. The silence felt deafening as it was only broken by the shifting of water in the tub.
“Well… I felt like an asshole for scolding you like I did. I mean not really but, well.” I sighed as I sunk back into the water more, not taking my eyes off of him. “You didn’t exactly retort like you normally do so I felt like I had over stepped.”
“Well, nothing either of us have done for the last hour and a half has been exactly normal. Though ya know. The whole ghost thing throws it off too.” Taking a slow drag he leaned his head back against the mirror. “Tell me the truth kid. You have had all the chances in the world to send me packin to the netherworld. Back to my home and the sandworms. But you don’t. You won’t even send me back to the coffin, either. The worst you have ever done to little old me is throw pillows and soapy water.” He grinned, teeth crooked and stained yellow.
“Well, it feels a bit cruel to screw with your existence like that. I mean it would be incredibly shitty of me…” I murmured as I looked to the floor. The fact that I was sitting bare in the bathtub slipping my mind as he actually talked rather than joked.
“Pfft, c’mon babes. I fuck with people for an unliving. It’s no skin off my nose when people fuck with me.” He said as he crushed the cigarette into the palm of his hand, wiping it away as if it were nothing. I cringed slightly watching it, chewing on my inner cheek as I try to come up with a better excuse other than, ‘I like weird.’ That didn’t even feel like a good reason as to why I hadn’t gotten rid of him. It’s not like he was conventionally attractive by any means, or a good person. And he was dead so there was very little chance that he would have any money… surface money to his name.
“I don’t like being interrogated in the bathtub.” I say trying to end the conversation so that he would piss off again. Beetlejuice quiets down and shrug, hopping off the counter as he makes his way to the tub. Hoping he would go away I turned my head and closed my eyes, fingers crossed like a little kid hoping the monster in their closer would leave.
“Pfft alright fine.” That was the last I heard before the room went silent again and I could finish my bath in peace.
Beetlejuice left me alone for the rest of the night oddly enough, the ghost had found ways of entertaining himself via the internet and the game console in the living room. But as I went about my routine, making dinner, eating alone, and doing some light clean up before bed, he kept watching me. The way his gaze would follow me around was like he had more to say but he wasn’t going to be the one who said it. And as I went to bed, I could hear him talking to himself, more complaining like he had missed a chance to say something to me. But as my head hit the soft satin pillow case and the cotton jersey sheet wrapped around my body, I knew I wasn’t getting out of bed.
The morning felt different as I woke up, my body ached and there was a familiar scent that filled the house. Sitting up, I pushed the sheets off of me and stared blankly at the wall in front of me. My unfocused eyes blurred the art of the posters and paintings that scattered my room, created a fuzzy haze in my half-awake mind. Scratching at the back of my head, I suck in a deep breath, the scent of warm pancakes and bacon flooding my senses. It took a moment for my mind to catch up, in my sleep addled state all I could think about was how my mother used to make me breakfast before school. She would hum to herself, waiting for me to drag my carcass out of bed and come down for the day so she could scold me for wearing ‘to much’ eyeliner. As I would chew on my breakfast, she would tell me all about how I will meet a man one day who will love me so much that the act of cooking breakfast was nothing more than a way to show me his love.
Sliding out of my comfortable and warm queen-sized bed, my feet met the plush of the black shag rug beneath. The wispy fibers comfortably greeting my skin before I shuffled off through the apartment to find the source of the tantalizing smell. It could be my neighbors though in all honesty, Saturday mornings usually involved them making a huge breakfast for them and their children. I envied that simple life sometimes.
“Beej, are you out here?” I murmured as I attempt to rub the sleep from my eyes.
“DAAAAAY-O!” I jumped as the song began to play, the exhaustion I once held now fleeing from my body like a scared lamb.
“What the fuck?” Looking around I spotted him in the kitchen, heinous stripped apron tied on tightly to go with the black and white pants. His jacket was tossed over the back of a chair, and the sleeves of his lavender dress shirt were rolled up as he tapped along to the song. He must not have noticed me, because even as I came and sat at the counter to watch him, Beetlejuice continued to cook. Leaning against the faux granite, I cleared my throat slightly. The ghost startled, his head turning a near 180 to look back at me, the act of which made my skin crawl.
“Oh! Hey babes.” Beetlejuice said as he turned the rest of his body to match the direction of his head. “Made some pancakes! Want with out the beetle?” He said holding out the frying pan for me to see. Cooked into the batter were a sprinkle of bugs, some of their legs crispy and burnt. I turned by head quickly trying to hide the gag that came bubbling up.
“Sans the insects please…” I say as I close my eyes for a second. Something wasn’t clicking here for me, in the back of mind it felt as if I had convinced myself this was normal. Or at least my normal. Like he belonged here with me, not in the Netherworld, not in his coffin. Just here.
“Right-o babes. Hope you don’t mind, burnt the bacon a little. Has been ages since I bothered trying to cook for the living.” He said as he gestured to the plate of lightly blackened bacon strips. Something in it felt endearing…
“Any reason why you decided to make… breakfast?”
“Well, you asked me to drop the act. And well… I guess you aren’t Lyds, so my Beetlejuice-ing is out of place here. Might be more of… Delores’s speed.” That was a name I hadn’t heard before yet but as it left his lips his gaze turned sorrowful for a moment.
“Oh yeah?” I begin to probe. “Who was she?”
“Oh ya know, ex wife type stuff. Didn’t really work out in my favor, she wanted maturity and commitment, I wanted … well not that. Happens, one ghost wants a diamond, the other just wants to be able to walk around the house in his underwear.” He paused for a moment as he began plating up the food. His movements smooth, practiced as he carefully put it all together. Shooting a glare to the radio, the volume turned itself down and he leaned against the counter. His beetle filled pancakes in front of him as he watched me.
“Ex-wife?” I ask the question causing a flicker of bitterness to arise in my tone.
“Don’t worry, Solan, she ain’t around no more off to bigger and deader things.” He murmured as he poked my plate towards me. “I think I found something better.”
I couldn’t help but gawk at the demon at this point; in no uncertain terms, it sounded like he liked being around me. And I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel something towards him. I doubt we would even be a good match. But as he went about cutting into his pancakes, I was left with a burning question and too much anxiety to ask it. Can the dead and the living really be together? Maybe I don’t want that answered…
