kettering
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“Oh, Beej.” Lydia’s voice takes on a poor lying lilt. “What good would you be?”
“Y’know. Quid pro quo.” He cackles.Or: Lydia dies. She makes the most of it.
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Slowly, slowly, Lydia takes his hands from their rightful lock on her hips, and guiding them above his head, she winds the ribbon round his wrists.
“…I wish you could stay.”
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Lydia finds a locket, amongst other things.
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so i meet you at the cemetery gates by kettering
Fandoms: Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
31 Jul 2025
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And in a brief notion, he plucks a bloom of mauvish petals; he nestles the gift of a flower into her hairline, above her ear. Lydia thinks it awfully kind, till his nasty tongue wets his lips, hand trailing back up her thigh.
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Betelgeuse takes a sip from the other teacup; the sheer contrast has her stifle a laugh. “You never were a saint.”
“Well,” Lydia starts, picking up the bottle of wine with both hands. “You were never a martyr.”Or: Cannibalism as a metaphor for love!