#I was immediately like “I like a car romantically yup I'm going to Hell” /joking.

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

I know I'm sort of rapid-posting here a little bit but I've been really wanting to read the Chasing Storm book again but because I can't at the moment I'm rewatching Cars 3 and I'm realizing more and more I have less and less proper reasoning if I get questioned why I like him.

Which I'm now giggling over remembering how I used to skip over the entire middle part of the movie because I just wanted the bits of him in the beginning and ending segments. First movie that I learned every entire bit of dialog to. I used to do the dishes to that movie playing.

[insomni-snacc]

Mx. Shoggoth, I Presume? Part 2

Now 100% more gender inclusive! Also, I lied about updating next week, I'm doing it today! Instead of making costumes! *cries in procrastinate*

A Handful of Proposals

"I never expected things to get this far," Lydia groaned and flopped over on the couch, slightly muffling her words with one of Dilia's extravagant throw pillows. "I just… I didn't want people to know I had some sort of live-in babysitter, and they already knew about 'Uncle BJ' so I just started calling you Aunt/Uncle Y/N and… then people just started assuming you were married and I didn't know what else to say and then they all wanted to meet you guys and so I mentioned-the-trip-and-now-youre-chaperones-and--"

"Whoah-ho-ho girl, slow down. We're not upset." You placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was a bit surprising to see the teen so flustered. You wanted to make sure she knew everything was alright, even if she did basically fake-marry you to a demon behind your back.

"You- I mean, we're not?" Your 'husband' sounded a bit off. You shot him a questioning look, still comforting Lydia.

"No, we're not. And you know what? Having to pretend I'm shacking up with this old bug is a pretty small price to pay for a family trip to NOLA." You pulled the pillow from her face to give her what you hoped was a reassuring look. You added some finger guns for good measure, just to reassert your Cool Status. Yup, so cool.

"So, you're still going?" Lydia perked up.

It was Beetlejuice's turn to be reassuring. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, doll. Besides, no other chaperones would let you get into as much trouble as this dynamic duo." He pulled you into a headlock and ruffled you hair. "Isn't that right, my other half?"

Seeing Lydia smile was definitely worth whatever hell this demon was planning on putting you through. You laughed and spun in his arms to release his headlock, throwing in a light jab to his gut for good measure. "Yeah, it'll be fun! There's way more than just cemeteries to check out, too. I know you're there for you music class, so I was thinking we could--" you paused when you felt an odd weight on your left hand. You lifted it to you face to find a comically large engagement ring, nearly as big as your fist. "Beej."

"What? Just gotta let 'em know you're mine, babes."

You tossed the ring at his head, and he moved to catch it out of instinct. The moment it made contact with his hand, it burst into a nest of spiders. He gasped before quickly snapping them away. He met your seething glare with a sheepish grin. "That wasn't supposed to happen for about another hour. Still, gotta love a man with a sense of humor. Right, schnookums?"

"I know your games, hun." You pulled him to your eye level by his tie, using the pet name as venomously as possible, "try to make the next one a bit less obvious."

You failed to notice the slight pink twinge in his hair as you sauntered off, satisfied with your mock threat.

The Ghost with the Most proposed to you another six times that week, if you could call them proposals. Each time, either the ring or Beetlejuice transformed into something meant to terrify you, or the proposal was so cartoonishly romantic that you would shut it down immediately.

Frankly, the one where he created a barbershop quartet of BJ clones to serenade you with crude songs was your favorite, but you couldn't tell him that. He was your friend - your hilarious, charming, socially awkward friend - but the last thing you needed was that smug look he always gave you when he knew he'd made you laugh.

It wasn't until you were loading your luggage into the car that he had so much as looked at you with anything but mischief in his eyes.

Beetlejuice slinked up to the car with a look that, had you not known him better, could have passed for humble. He fiddled anxiously with something in his pocket.

"Hey… can you uh… can you come with me?"

You nodded, following him to the back of the house. He only turned to look your way again once you two had reached the back porch. He ran a hand through his pink hair and steeled himself. For the first time since you'd met him, there was a beat of silence between you and Beetlejuice. Uncomfortable and worried for your friend, you decided to be the one to break it. "What's up, Beej? Everything ok?"

He cleared his throat and straightened. "Yes."

"... Are you sure? I haven't heard a 'tootse' or 'babes' in the last ten minutes, and you're pinker than an Amazonian dolphin. I know pink means you're uncomfortable, so what's up?"

"What? Pink doesn't mean --" he shook his head "Nevermind. What I wanted to say was… well, I wanted to give you this." He thrust his hand from his pocket, pressing a small black box into your palm.

You held it curiously, slowly lifting the lid with your other hand. Inside was a simple, tarnished, silver engagement ring with a small black stone. It looked to be fairly old, definitely not from this century, at least. You met his eyes and could have sworn you saw a glimmer of something new in his expression that took you by surprise. Before you could place it, he looked away, scratching at the back of his neck.

"Look, I know I joke around a lot, but if we're gonna do this whole marriage - er, faking thing, we do need the proper accessories. It's not like I ever got a chance to do this properly anyway so… you know. Will you?" He forced himself to glance at your for just a second before shyly turning away again.

"Will I what, Beetlejuice?" You were a bit surprised at how breathy your tone was, barely above a whisper.

He cleared his throat again, shaking himself a bit before taking your hand with a small smile. "Will you be my fake spouse?" He gently slid the ring onto your finger and allowed himself a small chuckle in a bid to come back into the cool, aloof personality he had grown to depend on.

You grinned right back at him, completely unaware of what you were doing to his poor, undead heart. "Of course, can't think of anyone else I'd rather be fake married to, Bug."

Part 1 here: