Somewhere intangible and imperceptible to the living, there is a realm where the departed linger. It is an expanse that seems to exist outside of time, hidden from mortal senses, and it has been called countless names throughout the ages. This ethereal domain, woven from the threads of collective memories and lingering echoes of once-vibrant lives, defies earthly mortal comprehension. A realm where time holds no sway and boundaries dissolve into infinity. Philosophers, poets, and mystics have sought to unravel its mysteries, but unfortunately, in order to even grasp its elusive existence, well, you gotta be dead as a doornail.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
It's my favorite movie verse Beetlejuice fic and it's definitely what got me back into the fandom a few years ago.
It incorporates some of the toon's backdrop into it but succeeds in giving it the tone of the movie and the premise is so good and feels like a believable sequel to the movie to me.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Anonymously tell me your favorite Beetlejuice fanfic
Hi. I'm not sure if this the right place to ask but I'm looking for a fic that I read a while ago. It was a human AU and C and A knew each other through some book forum, then they meet irl but they don't know who the other is. Things go pear-shaped but they keep talking on the forum while also slowly patching things up irl and falling in love. I think C has a mental illness and becomes slightly obsessive. I remember Harriet being his sister and looking out for him, and there was a scene at a fair or something where C was being controlling of A and Warlock came in and let C know by using a codeword that included 'Apples' and thats how A figured out C and his forum friend are the same person...
Hello!
I believe you are looking for The Bookshop Around the Corner by mordelle (M)
Anthony J. Crowley is a cynical book critic who doesn't believe in love. Aziraphale Z. Fell, is a bookshop owner and romance novelist. Aziraphale's godson good-naturedly sends Aziraphale's romance novel to the famous critic, who writes him an unmerited, awful review. Both are enamoured with an anonymous friend from a respectable book forum. Little do they know they have unwittingly fallen in love with each other in their sanctuary of anonymity.
Fic #3 in Lost Fic #76 could be "The Bookshop around the Corner" by mordelle
Thank you!
The Bookshop around the Corner by mordelle (M)
Anthony J. Crowley is a cynical book critic who doesn't believe in love. Aziraphale Z. Fell, is a bookshop owner and romance novelist. Aziraphale's godson good-naturedly sends Aziraphale's romance novel to the famous critic, who writes him an unmerited, awful review. Both are enamoured with an anonymous friend from a respectable book forum. Little do they know they have unwittingly fallen in love with each other in their sanctuary of anonymity.
As soon as Aziraphale's breath evened out and his muscles relaxed, Crowley bent his head, gently pressed his lips into sweaty blond locks, and murmured. "I love you."
Aziraphale took in a sharp breath and snapped his head up, accidentally hitting Crowley in the chin.
"Ow!" Crowley cried.
"You bastard!" Aziraphale croaked, not sounding like himself at all. "You did it again!"
"Did what?" The demon rubbed at his chin, completely taken aback by the angel's sudden fierceness.
Aziraphale glared down at Crowley and narrowed his eyes. "What did you just say?"
"What?"
"You said something as I fell asleep! What was it?"
Crowley could feel a blush spread on his cheeks and ears. He leaned up and caught the angels lips with his own to hide it.
Aziraphale kissed him back before abruptly tearing himself away. "Tell me," he demanded.
The demon shrugged and smirked. "I said you'll love the next position--"
"No, no, no!" Aziraphale rolled off of Crowley and put as much distance between them as possible while staying on the bed. He tried lifting himself but gave up when his jello-like arms would not cooperate. "I think that's enough now, Crowley, we've been at it for weeks." He shut his eyes and shuddered with pleasure. When he opened his eyes, he found the demon shrunk in on himself with a pained expression.
"I overdid it, didn't I? I shouldn't have - I mean - if you didn't like something I did, you can tell me. I can - I can do better. Really, I can. Just give me a chance--"
"Crowley!" Aziraphale's mouth hung open in disbelief. "If you do any better, you'll discorporate me!"
Crowley blinked, confusion written all over his face. "So, does that mean you like it? Sex, I mean. With me?"
"Good lord," Aziraphale breathed, rattled to the core from the obvious doubt in Crowley's expression. "Of course, I do! Do you really believe I would have let you do what you fancied with me if I didn't?"
Crowley cast his nervous eyes to the space between them. "Then why are you over there?"
Aziraphale shook his head and scoffed, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Because I'll continue to let you do what you fancy with me otherwise, and we'll never leave this flat again." Aziraphale cocked an eyebrow. "It'd be nice if you romanced me a bit outside of these walls. Take me to dinner. I honestly can't remember the last time we've eaten, Crowley!" He sounded very dismayed at the thought.
Crowley chuckled. "Anything you want, angel." He patted the empty space next to him and pouted briefly, hoping to coax Aziraphale closer. Maybe have him forget food for just a bit longer.
My WIP is now complete! Bless the Fallen by mordelle
Wonderful news!
Bless the Fallen by mordelle
After Crowley's presumed destruction, Aziraphale is recruited by Beelzebub and the rebels to Fall so that he may reap his vengeance on Lucifer and end his own misery in the process. But before he can get into Satan's inner circle to do the deed, he must pass a test that may very well change where his loyalties lie.
Aziraphale watched the mother and daughter with a kind smile. “The baby is just lovely,” he marvelled quietly.
“Would you like to hold her?”
Aziraphale beamed. “Oh, yes. Please.” He held his arms out and carefully cradled the infant. The small thing yawned dramatically and fell asleep. The angel chuckled as a tear of joy slipped out of the corner of his eye. “How are you, dear? I know the first few months can be challenging.”
Anathema sighed and sat on the bed, but smiled. “I’m good. Newt is a big help. He’s an amazing father and things have been wonderful. We’re tired all the time but we’re managing. We’ll need a new place soon. I love Tadfield but the cottage will be too small for the three of us.”
“You know, I’m always available to babysit,” he mentioned hopefully. “Crowley is an excellent nanny as well.”
Anathema laughed aloud but smothered it when she saw he was serious.
“We have references,” Aziraphale uttered a bit hurt.
“Oh, right, you both cared for Warlock. Um, sure. I mean I guess we’d be lucky to have actual angels looking after Theo for us when we need some time for ourselves.”
Aziraphale gave her a grateful look, not just for the chance to watch over the baby but for how she always referred to both he and Crowley as angels. He never corrected her and curiously, neither did Crowley. “It might do the insufferable idiot some good. Keep him busy with fussing over someone other than me for a change,” he muttered with annoyance.
She giggled in response. “He’s still that bad?”
The angel looked behind him at the empty hall then moved closer to Anathema and whispered harshly. “Worse.” He let her laugh again and shook his head. “If I were a demon, I’d have wrung his neck by now. He’s… what’s a proper American expression?”
Crowley picked up a biscuit. He knew better than to press that kind of subject, but something in him couldn’t help it. “No, no. Go on. Explain the joke,” he drawled.
Newt squirmed in his seat nervously and pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Well, it won’t be funny anyway. You know, when, um, a joke is explained--” he watched Crowley lean forward and take a bite of the cookie. “What I mean is…” his eyes grew wide as the demon masticated slowly, watching him with what appeared to menace. He couldn’t be sure. The spectacles hid all, but it did feel like a menace. He swallowed hard.
“Driving you batshit crazy?”
It was a distasteful phrase but seemed appropriate. “Batshit. Yes. Crazy. He’s going mad and taking me with him.” He sighed. “He miracled away my candles last night,” he whined. “He calls at all hours of the day even if we’ve just seen each other. Bosses me around all the time. I can’t take much more.”
Anathema rolled her eyes but nodded. “Partners can be a bit much when they’re worried about our safety.”
Aziraphale nearly choked and sputtered. “Oh, we’re not… I mean--”
“Or friends,” she corrected herself before Clueless Husband Number One could drop her baby in his sudden flustering.
The ex-witchfinder cleared his throat. “It’s just a little joke between me and Anathema, really, because, you know, you two are,” he coughed, “always together.”
Crowley stared at the young man for what seemed like an age before he finally swallowed his biscuit. “You haven’t said yet.”
“Said what?” Newt squeaked.
Painfully slow, the demon reached for his cup of tea and took a sip. “The joke.”
“Oh. Again it’s nothi--” he suddenly felt compelled to tell Crowley every little secret he ever had. “We call you the Clueless Husbands.”
There was a pregnant pause before Crowley scoffed with amusement. “Is that right?”
“Yes.” He couldn't stop himself. “We have a bet.”
“Do tell.”
“I bet you two are a couple and just hiding it from everyone. Anathema bet that you’re not and totally oblivious that you’re both stupidly in love with one another.” He took in a long, loud breath and the spell was over. “Oh bugger.”
Aziraphale composed himself and placed Theodora in her bassinet. He rocked her a bit as he pondered on the opportunity to finally confide in someone about his predicament with Crowley. “We are friends…” he trailed off not knowing how to proceed.
Anathema sensed the change in him and wondered if he was finally going to mention the elephant in the room that always sat between him and Crowley. She had grown to care for them both over the months after the world almost ended and wanted them to be happy. “You do know, don’t you?” She tested.
The angel held his breath. “Know what?”
The witch sighed and shook her head. She knew she was the one who had to say it if Aziraphale was going to confide in her. She decided to be cautious. “That Crowley seems to fancy you? I mean, I thought, at first, you knew and were just being...” she shrugged, “British. But I’m not so sure anymore.”
Crowley was now reclined on the sofa completely, looking like a patient at his therapy appointment. “We’re of different stock, us and you humans. It’s completely different.”
Newt shrugged his shoulders. “So, you’re not together ?”
The demon splayed his hands, always keeping tabs on Aziraphale’s location in the house. “In some way, we are, I suppose. We have a sort of… arrangement .”
“Not labelling it then. That’s fair.” Newt nodded slowly, hoping he was saying the right things.
Crowley hissed softly. “Except this arrangement doesn’t really expand to other areas outside of business, and well, there’s no more business to speak of. See my dilemma?”
Aziraphale was now lying on the bed, feet still on the floor, hands dragging on his face. He had spilt his guts and more information than Anathema needed about angel relations or lack thereof.
“It’s not like I haven’t noticed at all that Crowley and I are…” he waved his hands in the air as if trying to grasp the perfect word that kept escaping him, “ something. It’s just, our case is a bit tricky! Our kind doesn’t need the sort of physical affection that humans exhibit for one another when, well, when you know.”
The witch nodded in understanding. “True, but angels don’t need to eat, and yet, you do… a lot… and you seem to enjoy it very much.”
The angel sighed. “I actually started to feel bouts of hunger after a millennia or so, and Crowley sleeps every night though he shouldn’t need it.”
Anathema scoffed. “Oh, he needs it. He hasn’t slept in almost a whole year and look at him! Grouchy all of the time and driving you nuts.”
Aziraphale removed his hands from his face and sat up looking completely baffled. “What do you mean he hasn’t slept for almost a year?”
“Maybe after the anniversary, he’ll be able to relax more.” She reassured him.
“He falls asleep in my bookshop almost every night!” He almost yelled.
Anathema frowned. “Well, then he’s lying to one of us because when he was here last week, he mentioned he hasn’t slept a wink since the day the world almost ended.”
At that, Aziraphale launched to his feet. “Last week? He was here last week? He said that?”
She nodded. “Yes. He comes by once or twice a week to check up on things. You didn't know?”
The angel was frozen in shock with his mouth hanging open. Crowley had been coming to Tadfield once or twice a week to make sure things were okay with Adam and the Pulsifers. That was sweet and not exactly too surprising because Aziraphale knew that Crowley did not like to appear like he had any good in him. What was throwing the celestial in for a loop was the fact that Crowley had been feigning sleep while in his presence for a year. The times his head would roll onto his shoulder, or when his leg would limply fall against his own, or when his hand would drop onto the angel's lap, was now taking on a whole new meaning. The memory of Crowley needlessly pressing up against him, and the feel of his hand grazing the back of his head earlier made his eyes grow wide. In a blink, similar moments flashed in his mind going all the way back to the very time they met in the Garden as if someone hit the rewind button on an old VCR.
