#I've been wanting to share this for a bit

[disgustingtwitches]

@rememberwren's Sperm donor!Johnny and Husband!Ghost has been stuck in my head for far too long. So here's a quick unedited little thing I wrote for it!

You forgot exactly what you were nervous about. Then again, you usually forget everything when your husband is between your legs.

“Gotta warm you up properly.”

He said earlier to Johnny and you, his large hand rubbing your thigh just a touch too high and making your face hot. 

You're not sure how much “warming up” you needed; he's been at it for God knows how long, and you're dizzy and pretty sure you can't feel your toes anymore. He can be so mean sometimes when he's like this, biting your thighs when you try to push his head away, smiling at how you whimper.

“You know, I'm starting to think you like it when I do that.”

As overstimulated as you are, you whine when he pulls away. You swear you can see the hearts in his eyes when he looks down at you. Gets you right in the heart. 

When he rolls out of bed and walks to the door you suddenly remember why your stomach was in knots earlier; you're about to sleep with his subordinate. No, that's not the right word. Brother in arms? Best friend? Their relationship always seemed more complex than words could describe. There's a soft knock on the door and you look up to see your husband walk in with Johnny in tow. 

Johnny's knees nearly give in at the sight of your body tangled up in the sheets, breathing hard, and skin glistening.

“Prettiest thing I've ever seen.” 

He smiles while unbuckling his pants. Simon hums in agreement and sits next to you, running his fingers up your arm and neck to caress your face. The look in his eyes could melt you right then and there, grounding and reassuring. Everything is going to be alright; it always has been and always will be.

Your eyes shoot back to Johnny, who's crawling over you slowly. You bite back a groan when Simon coos a good girl as you open your legs more, inviting Johnny to settle between them. The difference between your husband's face and the man hovering over you is night and day; Simon all soft and enamored, Johnny all fervid and lustful. 

“Ye ready?” 

Johnny's voice is almost as shaky as his hands, not nervous but almost deliriously aroused. You never had wandering eyes; it seems like it's wrong to even look at him now, but you don't want this to feel unnatural; you want to enjoy this. So you scan his body, toned chest falling and rising fast, strong arms caging you in, blue eyes so intense you have to look away.

“Uh-huh.”

You reply quietly, bucking your hips against his, your most sensitive parts rubbing against his. The gasp you share makes you both chuckle, easing the tension. You run your hands up his arms and wrap them around his neck. When you pull him closer, he follows eagerly, burying his face against the crook of your neck, stubble tickling you. 

“Dinnae have to do this if you don't want to, hen.” 

“No, I want to.” 

Your voice, smaller than you want it to be, makes Johnny's eyes soften. You look over to Simon, he cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow slightly, checking in. You just nod and he nods back. You keep your eyes on Simon while addressing Johnny,

“Ready.”

There's a pause, a shift, and then. You groan and roll your eyes back when he slides in, still facing Simon who blinks fast. Johnny breathes like the air was knocked out of him,

“Jesus…fuck…”

He curses to himself, face still buried at your neck, slowly moving his hips forward until his pelvis meets yours. You whine as he nips your neck and yelp when he punches his hips forward from the sounds you make. Your husband leans over and palms the back of his neck, talking in a low, serious tone that makes you tighten up, 

“Johnny.”

“Yeah, LT?”

“Ease up.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Johnny places a soft kiss where he bit you. It's all so…overwhelmingly intimate. Another man on top of you, grinding at just the right angle, hitting the right spots, all while your husband watches, instructing him. Simon pulls his hand away from Johnny's neck and shifts on the bed, sitting right next to you. Your eyes go wide when you turn to see him palming his erection. Oh. This is okay. This situation is more than okay. Simon fucking loves this. Johnny too. Guess you should throw away any reservations or doubts you had and just embrace this moment. Enjoy it to the fullest. 

Johnny pulls back, face slightly flushed, panting softly,

“She's so wet, Simon. Just so soft and perfect. Prettiest thing I ever saw...” 

You soak in the compliments but tune him out eventually, your attention drifting down to where Johnny slides in and out of you. It's a dreamy sight, really; you look so good together, it kind of reminds you how wonderful you and Simon look together. 

“Looks real nice, doesn't it? Taking me so well, hen.”

Johnny presses his forehead against yours, looking down while you hum in agreement. It's quiet for a moment, save for the occasional pant and moan or slick sounds from between your legs. A rough hand holds your left and another, larger hand grabs your right. It's all so sweaty, so sticky and sweet. So dazed, you barely register the first kiss Johnny plants on your lips. The second one makes your eyes shoot open, staring right at his annoyingly long, brown lashes until he pulls back and opens his eyes, blindingly blue. Your face gets hot, and you pull your hand to your face, your husband's fingers still intertwined with them. He extends his pointer finger to caress your cheek and you turn your face to look up at him. He's so gentle right now like he knows that's what you need from him. 

A smile plays on his face when you open your mouth and slide his finger into your mouth, sucking softly, rolling your eyes back, and moaning softly. You love giving him a show. Love making him melt in your mouth. He nods over to Johnny, whose jaw is slack, breathing hard. When you look at him, it's quite the sight: blue eyes wide and wild, mouth hanging open, and you can see his pulse right underneath his jawline beating wildly. Just fucking delectable. You pull your face away from Simon's hand and smile up at Johnny who groans and chuckles,

“Christ, LT.”

“Focus, Johnny. Ain't done yet.”

There's something feral that flashes in Johnny's eyes, hungry. Eager to please. You or Simon, you're not too sure. But he hooks an arm under your knees and hikes your leg up as far as it'll go, digging into you until you're a whimpering mess under him. His whole body pressed up against you, pinning you down. His mouth pressed right up against your ear, replacing every thought you had with his voice. 

“Right there? Huh? God, tight cunt right here…C'mon... Tell me how good it is…Tell me.”

He repeats the last phrase until you're mindlessly praising him, telling him what he wants to hear. What he needs to hear. You can feel him smile against the skin right under your ear before pressing tender kisses there. 

You're pressed chest to sweaty, hairy chest when you wrap your arms around him tighter, embracing him. All traces of guilt scraped away with Simon's breathy praise. You move one hand around until it rests on your husband's big thigh, and he tenses up under your touch. 

“C'mon love, give Johnny something real nice. He's been such a trooper, yeah?” 

You nod into Johnny's shoulder, breathless. 

“Uh-huh,”

It hits you hard and fast. Almost unexpectedly. Hearing a small moan escape Simon always sent you over the edge, though, always a rare moment when he lets himself relax and be vulnerable. 

Spasming and moaning under Johnny had his hips moving frantically, desperate for his own release. Biting his shoulder had him crashing right into it, digging deep into you until his hips still. He crushed you under his weight, licking the sweat off your neck. Simon pushed his head away though. 

“Don't forget, she's my wife Johnny.

His voice isn't harsh, it's almost soft. His large frame leans down and presses a tender kiss against your lips. Then another. And another. All while singing velvety praises between each one. For a moment, you forget about the other man in the room lying right on top of you. Until he pulls away, sliding out of you. Almost makes you whine til he starts pressing his lips against your sternum and stomach. Head in the clouds, you feel like you're floating. Suspended in this moment of pure bliss. 

“You got one more in you?”

Simon asks. Before you can answer, Johnny responds eagerly. 

“Always.”

[internerdionality]

So, I have historically used a meal service, because for much of the last five years I've been working 50-60 hours a week for a tech startup in addition to running a household with five varyingly disabled people and... yeah. Saving brain energy for meal planning and shopping hasn't been a huge priority. This isn't a plug for meal services, just an explanation for why my go-to simple recipes these days are all from Hello Fresh. All these recipes come built for 2 or 4 people (just use the slider on top), but are easy to double if you're cooking for a whole group.

"Mexican" (not really) chicken rice bowl — the "southwest" spice blend is two parts garlic powder, one part chile powder, one part cumin. I usually replace the long green pepper with 3X serrano peppers (they're little) because I'm a spicy bitch and also my grocery store doesn't carry whatever pepper HF usually sends. You can also sub 2X jalapeños if you're a bit less enamored of spice than me, or an equal amount of anaheim or bell pepper if you want it super mild. I also sub out chicken thighs for breasts and usually double the turmeric. When I make this for my whole household plus, I split the chicken and peppers into two pans so I can make one hotter than the other.

Teriyaki pork rice bowl — This one is SO easy and yummy, I've successfully made it at midnight while drunk off my ass and got lots of compliments and requests for the recipe (look, I was hosting a game night and we ran out of pizza). Again, I usually sub out a spicier pepper and like. Quadruple the garlic? I also don't add the extra sugar. I do usually just keep a bottle of premade teriyaki sauce on hand but if you don't just use some ginger paste (I keep a tube of it on hand), soy sauce, mirin if you have it (also really good to have on hand), even more garlic, some kind of sweetener (honey's great) and cornstarch or flour to thicken.

Pork taquitos — So, HF doesn't share their tex-mex paste recipe and the copycat recipes involve like, two hours of prep, it's ridiculous. So instead of doing that I just get chorizo from the grocery store instead of ground pork and add some tomato paste concentrate. These are also totally yummy plain, without the guac and tomato/onion mixture on top, or you can serve with whatever your favorite texmexy dip is. I also usually turn halfway through baking to make sure they get evenly crispy.

Do any of u have decent recipes that are like 5 ingredients (not including spices) and take 45 mins or less to prepare i gotta stop eating sandwiches for dinner

[impactrueno]

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

[midnightmah07]

"A celebration? Really? Why, aren't you so kind. Thank you, I'll make sure to enjoy myself today."

Voice lines under the cut! • template (warning: I edited a few parts to make it look like my character's RSA dorm)

📚: well, birthday or not there's still a ton of work to do! ... although I guess it wouldn't hurt to relax a tiny bit. Just for today.

📚: my most prized possession? Well, those'd be my books! See, lately I've been reading this wonderful one about a bean stock and an ogre and— ah! S-sorry, I'm rambling too much...

📚: Leona actually gave me something besides a simple "happy birthday" message this year, can you believe it? It's a crochet book cover, he said he got it online... It is really beautiful.

📚: Did you know? Me and my mom used to share a birthday. She used to say I was her birthday gift haha! Oh, how I miss her.

📚: birthdays back home were a mix of emotions to say the least... My sisters and I were never too close so that was always awkward... But my dad always made everything better.

📚: is that— no way, you got a big pudding instead of a cake? Ahahah, why thank you! That's actually really funny, but very creative!

📚: Adeline gave me a really beautiful bouquet of flowers, I'm sure my room will smell even nicer in no time!

📚: I usually like to keep my hair in a bun when I go to sleep. Once I tried using some curlers but it looked weird... My hair is more wavy than curly so... It looked a tad bit strange.

📚: my nightgown? Ah, do you like it? I love sleeping in it, it's rather comfortable! Most women in my country tend to sleep in similar nightgowns.

📚: *yawn* ...hm? Sorry, what was that? I'm still a bit out of it, I slept too late last night... Ah, i-it totally has nothing to do with the new book I've got!!

📚: skincare? Hm... I would like to try it sometime but for now I just use a moisturizer. I care about my appearance, yes, but I've never really paid much mind to my skin in this way.

📚: Poppy gave me a crochet lion plushie... With a scar on his eye. *Sigh* is this to make fun of me or something?

📚: "If you poke Isabelle's dimples you'll have luck for 10 years...?" What sort of rumour is that? Hahah! Oh, goodness... Well, if you want to try, you're welcome to.

📚: what's this old looking note...? Oh, it's from Malleus! It's a happy birthday wish, how thoughtful. I had no idea he knew my birthday though... Is this Adeline's doing?

📚: what a delightful day this has been, and all thanks to everyone here. Thank you very much.

Duo magic:

Isabelle: Thanks for the party, Adeline.

Adeline: Happy birthday, housewarden!

[lj-lephemstar]

Progress Checkup! (Nov. 2024) | Scratchin' Melodii Devlog

​​Hey again guys! Sorry if it's been a bit since the last devlog. With how much I've been up to, it sure feels like it!

Let's get right into it. For starters, the 3rd rival battle of Act 2 is complete! I'll likely be showing a gameplay preview of it sometime soon. This is the first song to use the new framework that I'll be using for all the other stages going forward, which also means I've had to spend the past couple weeks getting the previous songs working with this new system too... Did you know that in the demo builds, if I wanted to change something about the gameplay, I'd have to manually go back and change it for EACH individual song one by one? Well now, imagine all the songs had like a peace treaty to just share one good, clean, and organized system that I can easily tweak and add to as I please. So development is gonna be smoother than ever from here! This is how most games are SUPPOSED to work, but I was a liiittle too stupid to figure out how to do this until recently!

While I was moving Cream Cheese Icing over to this new system, I took the opportunity to make the chart a bit more beginner-friendly! For example, the first line went from this...

To just this!

As you can see, it has less notes, therefore it is less scary for new players. Believe it or not, I actually never intended for Cream Cheese Icing to be so difficult for new players in the first place! Naturally, being too good at my own game can make gauging the difficulty curve a bit tricky at times, but I think I'm figuring it out!​

You may have also noticed that the characters have new UI icons too! I felt like the old ones were too flat and boring, so I did a new take on them, aiming for more dynamic shapes and angles, not to mention how my art style's just kinda grown a bit in general since I last drew the icons. I also ended up leaving out the circles behind them. I was a little worried I was gonna run out of unique colors for all of them at some point, plus SOME of these guys can have really big hair and/or hats that pretty much just cover up the whole circle anyway. (hi rensa)

Speaking of artwork, here's a little look at some of the updated animation I've done for Stir & Mix! (Try to imagine it in not highly-compressed-gif-form. I promise it looks better in-game!)

When working on Stir & Mix related stuff, I can't help but feel a bit of a sense of dread knowing how people may react to it... Honestly, sometimes I kinda wish it never got as popular as it did in 2022. But hey, doing my own thing regardless of what's expected of me is the most Scratchin' Melodii thing I could do!

Speaking of which, Mia learned a ton of new stuff while doing the VOCALOID tuning for the last rival battle we worked on, so we might revisit Stir & Mix's vocals again at some point before release to give it even more style! (By the way, Mia and 2cada are the same person! Sorry if I refer to both names interchangeably! She's been the one doing all the VOCALOID tuning and vocal mixing for the game since 2023.)

Well, I think that's all for now! Here's another friendly reminder that there will NOT be anymore demos of the game. Any new content will be saved for the full game's release. I know I've said it before, but I probably won't stop saying it until people stop getting confused about it LOL. Thanks for reading!! I appreciate you. - LJ

[cod-thoughts]

And he stood by and waited to be called

Word count: 3.7k Relationship: NikPrice, PriceNik, Nikolai/Price Tags: Established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, surprises, anniversary

Price and Nikolai are supposed to be celebrating their anniversary today, what if Nik has to cancel last minute? What if he makes it up to Price anyway? Keep reading under the cut or on AO3 I've been working furiously on ghostprice week but i wanted to get something up before then so here we are! I just wanted some fluff and something wholesome its been a rough couple of weeks 0_0

John Price ran his fingers through his beard, inspecting it in the mirror under the bright, unforgiving bathroom light. He’d gone to the barber the night before, the guy taking care to trim his hair just right, shaping the beard until it was exactly the way Nikolai liked it. Price had watched in the mirror as the barber worked, the hum of clippers and the snip of scissors oddly soothing. He’d wanted it to be perfect, the kind of effort he didn’t make often, but today was special. It was for Nikolai, after all. The man who had waited, who had been patient through the endless nights apart, through the missions that had stretched longer than expected, through the calls that never came when Price got tied up in things beyond his control.

This morning, he’d taken his time getting ready, savoring every small step. He’d used that fancy beard oil Nikolai had given him on their last anniversary—the one with the cedar and sandalwood scent that Nikolai had said made him “smell like a forest, but a handsome one.” The words had stuck with Price, replaying in his mind every time he used the oil. He could almost hear Nikolai’s voice, that warm, affectionate tone, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners as he teased. It made Price smile to himself, a soft, private smile that lingered even as he moved through the rest of his routine.

He even went the extra mile, too, shaving away the rougher edges with a precision he hadn’t bothered with in a while, making sure every line was clean and crisp. The razor glided over his skin, the scent of shaving cream mingling with the cedar and sandalwood, and for once, Price allowed himself to enjoy it. This was, after all, their anniversary. Years of shared missions, flights, quick getaways, and late-night talks when the weight of command felt like too much, each adding up to something neither of them had ever quite expected. They’d found each other in the chaos, in the midst of everything else, and that was worth celebrating. It wasn’t just about the time they’d spent together—it was about the fact that they’d chosen each other, over and over again, despite everything.

After one last look, Price pulled his shirt collar into place, brushing his shoulders free of any stray hairs, adjusting the cuffs. It wasn’t fancy—not by a mile—but it felt good to put himself together just for the sake of it. For the sake of Nikolai. It made his chest swell with a quiet sort of pride, knowing that he could still find joy in the smallest of gestures, knowing that after all this time, Nikolai was still the one who made him feel like this.

As he strode out into the hallway, there was no hiding his uplifted mood. Gaz spotted him first, pausing with his coffee mug halfway to his lips, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Captain… you look sharp.” His tone was playful but warm, with an edge of real surprise. Price’s grooming routine was normally more utilitarian—efficient, maybe a bit rugged, if he was lucky.

Soap, however, was less subtle. “Christ, look at you, Cap,” he said with a dramatic whistle. “What’s the occasion?”

Price rolled his eyes, but he could feel his face heating, which only encouraged them further. Gaz gave him a knowing smile, and even Ghost, leaning against the far wall, raised an eyebrow, catching his eye with an amused nod.

They knew, of course. It was no secret that Nikolai and Price were together. It hadn’t always been easy—Price had grappled with it for years, all those ingrained habits and fears from a past where he’d never felt able to be himself, to be openly happy like this. It had been Nikolai’s patience, his kindness, that had chipped away at those walls, showing Price that he didn’t have to keep that part of himself hidden.

Instead of keeping quiet or dancing around the subject, the team encouraged him, embraced him in ways that went beyond words. They teased him, sure, but it was with warmth, with affection that made Price feel lighter than he’d ever imagined he could. After all those years of thinking he had to keep that part of himself locked away, he was here—respected and accepted not just as a captain, but as a man with a heart that belonged to someone else.

Soap, however, wasn’t about to let him go with just a blush, and brought him out of his reverie with an excited shout, “Hey, we should give him an escort!” He looked around at the others, his grin widening. “Make sure the captain here arrives in style. After all, a bloke doesn’t get gussied up like that every day.”

Price chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe I’m just overdue for a proper clean-up,” he muttered, trying to sound casual. But the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed him, and he knew it. There was no hiding his excitement—not from the team, not from himself.

---

The hours passed, each task feeling like both a distraction and a countdown. Price moved through his duties with a kind of restless energy, his thoughts drifting constantly to the evening ahead. Every so often, he’d reach into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the small, carefully tied pouch nestled there. He’d spent weeks searching for something that would be meaningful—something that would last. In the end, he’d settled on an old-fashioned pocket watch, the kind Nikolai had once mentioned fondly in passing. It wasn’t flashy, but Price knew it would suit him, a small reminder of them that could go wherever Nikolai did. It felt right—something timeless, something that held weight, just like what they shared.

He imagined Nikolai’s reaction, the way his eyes would light up when he saw it, the warmth in his smile when he realised what it meant. Price’s heart swelled at the thought, a small smile tugging at his lips as he made his way through the base. Each step felt lighter, each mundane task a little less tedious, knowing that at the end of it all, Nikolai would be there.

As the evening approached, he found himself glancing at the clock more often, anticipation bubbling just below the surface. He was ready early, his heart thrumming with excitement as he made his way back to his quarters. They’d planned to meet there—just the two of them, an arrangement that had quickly become a ritual on the rare occasions they both had the luxury of downtime. He paced his room, unable to sit still, a smile tugging at his lips as he imagined how the night would go. They’d share a quiet meal, maybe a drink or two, and just be together—no missions, no distractions, just them.

Then his phone vibrated in his hand. Price opened the message with a grin, expecting to see Nikolai’s usual playful greeting—only to feel his heart drop as he read the words on the screen.

John, I am sorry, my love. I will not make it in time. Got pulled into something last minute. I will make it up to you, I promise. Be safe. Love you, Mishka.

The excitement that had carried him through the day deflated, replaced by a heavy emptiness that settled deep in his chest. He stared at the message, rereading it as if somehow the words might change, as if maybe he’d misunderstood. But they didn’t change, and the ache that followed was sharp and immediate. He knew he should be fine with it. This wasn’t the first time duty had forced one of them to cancel plans, and he’d had to do it to Nikolai more times than he cared to admit. He knew the job always came first—had always come first. But somehow, the disappointment cut deeper today. Maybe because he’d let himself look forward to it so openly, maybe because he’d let himself believe that, for once, they’d have the time to themselves.

Price sighed, running a hand over his face, the freshly smoothed skin reminding him of the effort he’d put into this day, the way he’d hoped it would go. He tried to brush it off, tried to tell himself it didn’t matter, but the ache in his chest lingered. He’d wanted tonight to be special—not just for himself, but for Nikolai too. He’d wanted to give them both a moment to breathe, to remind each other why they kept fighting, kept coming back.

He let out a slow breath, pocketing his phone and trying to gather himself. There was no use dwelling on it—he’d see Nikolai soon enough, and they’d make up for the lost time as they always did. But the ache in his chest didn’t ease, not fully.

Price made his way to the rec room where the team were gathered around a table playing cards. The room was filled with the sound of their banter, the shuffle of cards, the occasional clatter of a mug being set down. Normally, it was a comforting noise, a reminder of the camaraderie they shared, but tonight it felt distant—like he was watching it all from the outside.

He started making a cup of tea, his hands moving on autopilot. The motions were familiar, almost comforting in their simplicity. As the kettle clicked, Gaz sidled up next to him, nudging him lightly. “Everything alright, Captain?”

Price forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Change of plans,” he said, shrugging. “Nikolai’s not gonna make it anymore. Duty calls.”

Gaz frowned, glancing back at Soap, who was already watching Price with a sympathetic look. “Why don’t you come out with us?” Soap suggested, his voice unusually soft. “Just for a bit. Make a night of it, yeah?”

Price shook his head, his smile faltering. “Appreciate it, lads. But I’ll just finish up some reports. Been putting them off anyway.” He tried to keep his tone light, but even he could hear the strain in it. The last thing he wanted was to be a burden, to bring down the mood. The disappointment was his to carry, and he’d manage it as he always did.

He watched as the others exchanged glances but didn’t press. There was a kind of understanding in their silence, an unspoken support that made Price’s chest tighten. They cared, in their own ways, and even if they couldn’t change anything, they were there, grounding him with their steady presence. It was enough—it had to be enough.

They let him go with a quiet nod, and Price slipped into his office, burying himself in paperwork to fill the time, to ease the ache he didn’t want to admit was there. He worked through reports, reviewed mission details, anything to keep his mind occupied, but the hours dragged, each tick of the clock a reminder of what he was missing. By the time he finally called it a night, the disappointment had settled into a dull, familiar ache. He knew he’d see Nikolai soon—knew they’d make up for the lost time as they always did. But tonight, there was no denying the ache of that missing presence, the empty space that seemed to echo louder than ever.

By the time he finally headed back to his quarters, he’d resigned himself to an evening alone, the carefully wrapped gift weighing heavier in his pocket. He paused outside his door, taking a slow breath before opening it. He knew it would be empty, knew he’d have to wait a little longer to see Nikolai, but still, a part of him hoped.

As he opened the door to his room, he froze. There, standing by the bed with a small, mischievous grin and a bouquet of wildflowers in hand, was Nikolai.

Price blinked, his heart leaping at the sight. For a second, he could only stare, his mind racing to catch up with reality. The exhaustion of the day, the disappointment he'd pushed down, all seemed to vanish in an instant. He blinked again, as if to make sure this wasn't some tired trick of his imagination. But no—there Nikolai stood, just as real as the ache in his chest had been moments before, now replaced by an overwhelming rush of warmth.

Nikolai’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he saw Price’s stunned expression. “Sorry I did not message you again, I was in a rush,” he said, stepping forward, his voice softening. “I had to see this…handsome Captain, I am sure you understand.” He winked, his grin widening as he took in Price’s carefully put-together appearance.

Price’s heart clenched with something fierce—relief, love, gratitude—all of it swelled up at once, nearly making his throat tighten. He let out a breathless laugh, his lips curving into a smile that he couldn’t contain. Slowly, he stepped forward, his voice barely above a whisper. “You… how…?”

Nikolai closed the distance between them, the flowers still held loosely in one hand. “Did you really think I would miss this? Not when you put in this effort.” He reached out with his free hand, his fingers brushing against Price’s cheek, tracing the line of his freshly trimmed beard. “I’ve missed seeing you like this,” he added, his voice dropping to something more intimate, something just for Price.

For a long moment, Price could only stare, his heart swelling with relief and happiness as he took in the sight. Then, finally, he let out a quiet, breathless laugh, stepping forward and pulling Nikolai into a tight embrace. He buried his face in the crook of Nikolai’s neck, his voice muffled but thick with emotion. “You sneaky bastard.”

Nikolai laughed, his arms coming up around Price, holding him close. He pressed his face into Price’s shoulder, breathing him in, the familiar scent of cedar and sandalwood filling his senses. “Did you really think I would let you spend our anniversary alone?” he murmured against Price’s ear, his voice warm and gentle.

Price pulled back slightly, just enough to look Nikolai in the eyes. He could see the affection there, the sincerity in every line of Nikolai’s expression. It made his chest feel tight, and he swallowed hard, nodding. “No,” he said, his voice rough. “But I… I wasn’t expecting this.”

Nikolai smiled, lifting the bouquet between them. “I believe these are for you, Captain.”

Price chuckled, shaking his head as he took the flowers from Nikolai’s hand, brushing his fingers over the delicate petals. They were a little worse for wear, some petals bent, a few stems slightly bruised, but Price found it made them all the more perfect. They were real, just like this moment, like the man standing before him.

“Wildflowers, Nik?” Price asked, his voice laced with affection. “You know you didn’t have to…”

Nikolai’s smile softened, and he took a small step closer, his hand coming to rest on Price’s hip, his thumb brushing lightly against the fabric of his shirt. “No trouble, my love. Besides, I think they suit you. Strong, resilient… beautiful.”

Heat rose to Price’s face, and he looked away, huffing out a laugh. “You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

Nikolai came up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist, pressing his face into the side of Price’s neck. He took a deep breath, his voice rumbling softly against Price’s skin. “Only for you.” He pulled away slightly, just enough to spin Price around to face him instead. He pressed a kiss to Price’s lips—soft, lingering, full of all the words they didn’t need to say.

When he pulled back, Nikolai’s eyes were gleaming with mischief, and he whispered, “I cannot wait to unwrap my gift,” his gaze running up and down Price’s form, appreciation evident in his eyes.

Price chuckled, shaking his head. “Not quite,” he said, his tone teasing. He reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the small box there. “…or at least not yet,” he added quietly, holding it out to Nikolai. “I… I got you something.”

Nikolai’s eyes softened as he took the gift, his gaze flicking up to meet Price’s before he carefully unwrapped it. The wrapping was simple—Price hadn’t been one for extravagant touches—but it had been done with care, and that was what made it special. Nikolai peeled back the paper, revealing the small box within. He opened it slowly, and the soft click of the pocket watch filled the quiet room.

A look of quiet awe crossed Nikolai's face as he took in the pocket watch, its metal glinting in the soft light. He ran his thumb across the engraved initials on the inside, his eyes taking in every detail. There was a pause, a moment where the world seemed to still around them, and then Nikolai looked up, meeting Price’s gaze with an expression so full of love it made Price’s breath catch.

“John…” His voice was barely a whisper, thick with emotion as he ran his thumb over the watch’s surface again. He looked back at the initials, tracing them gently. “It’s perfect,” he said, his voice cracking just slightly.

Price felt his heart swell, the weight of the day’s disappointment finally lifting as he reached out, his fingers brushing against Nikolai’s. The warmth of Nikolai’s skin under his fingertips grounded him, the way it always did. He smiled, a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes. “Only the best for you, Nik.”

Nikolai took a deep breath, his gaze flicking back down to the watch, his thumb still tracing the initials. He closed the watch with a soft click, slipping it carefully back into its box before he looked back up at Price. “I will keep it with me always,” he said, his voice still thick with emotion, his eyes meeting Price’s. “Wherever I go, a piece of you comes with me.”

Price swallowed, feeling his throat tighten as he nodded. He couldn’t find the words to respond, not properly, so instead, he took a step forward, pulling Nikolai into another embrace. This one was different from the last—slower, more deliberate. He wrapped his arms around Nikolai’s shoulders, burying his face in the crook of Nikolai’s neck, and for a moment, everything else fell away. The weight of command, the responsibilities, the expectations—all of it faded, leaving just the two of them, wrapped up in each other.

After a long moment, Price pulled back, just enough to press a gentle kiss to Nikolai’s temple. When he finally let go, Nikolai smiled, a playful glint returning to his eyes. He reached into the bag he’d set by the bed, producing a small, aged bottle of whiskey. Its amber hue gleamed in the soft light as Nikolai held it up between them. “I did not come empty-handed either,” he murmured, his voice laced with that familiar warmth. “Thought we could have a proper toast, my love.”

Price’s face softened as he looked at the bottle, recognising the label immediately. It was the same whiskey they’d shared once before—on another night, one that had felt just as full of quiet understanding and love. He met Nikolai’s gaze, touched by the small gesture. “You remembered,” he said, his voice quiet.

Nikolai’s smile softened. “Of course I remembered.” He stepped closer, nudging Price gently toward the small table by the bed. “Now, let us toast properly, hm?” He poured a couple of inches into each glass, handing one to Price before raising his own. His gaze settled on Price, warm and unwavering. “To all our years, past and future, but there could never be enough time with you.”

Price felt a grin break across his face as he raised his glass, his heart swelling with a rush of affection. He clinked his glass to Nikolai’s, the soft sound filling the quiet room, and took a sip. The warmth of the whiskey spread through him, soothing the edges of the day, and he felt the tension that had lingered melt away completely.

They moved to sit on the edge of the bed, shoulders brushing as they savoured their drinks, the silence between them comfortable, filled with a quiet kind of joy. Price leaned into Nikolai slightly, their legs touching, the warmth of his partner grounding him in a way that nothing else could. He let out a content sigh, his gaze drifting down to where their hands rested side by side on the bed.

Nikolai seemed to notice the direction of his gaze, and with a soft smile, he set his glass down on the nightstand before reaching over, taking Price’s hand in his. He laced their fingers together, his thumb brushing lightly across Price’s knuckles in a slow, soothing motion.

Price turned to look at him, his chest tightening with emotion. There were so many things he wanted to say, but as he met Nikolai’s eyes, he realised he didn’t need to. Everything he felt, everything he wanted to say, was already there in the way Nikolai looked at him, in the way he held his hand, in the warmth of his touch.

Slowly, Nikolai leaned in, his forehead resting gently against Price’s. “I love you, John,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if the words were just for the two of them and no one else.

Price closed his eyes, his heart swelling with a warmth that filled every part of him. He squeezed Nikolai’s hand gently, his voice equally soft as he replied, “I love you too, Nik. More than anything.”

For a long moment, they stayed like that, their foreheads resting together, their hands intertwined, the world outside forgotten. There was no rush, no need to move or speak. Everything they needed was right there, in the quiet space between them, in the love they shared.

When they finally pulled back, Nikolai grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief once more. He nudged Price gently, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Can I still unwrap you?”

Price let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head as he pulled Nikolai closer, their noses brushing. “Not arguing with that,” he replied, his voice low and affectionate.

Nikolai’s grin widened, and he leaned in, capturing Price’s lips in a kiss that was soft and slow, filled with the promise of everything still to come. Price melted into it, his arms wrapping around Nikolai’s waist, his heart full to the brim.

In that quiet, stolen moment, everything felt right. The world outside could wait a little longer; tonight, this was all they needed.

[drdemonprince]

i'd like to say sth abt the x gender marker thing. i've just started getting the paperwork done for it myself, and although its an exhausting grueling bureaucratic pricess, it's filling me w the kind of joy i last felt when i got my first hrt prescription. i know i will have constant difficulties in a system of institutions that have no official way of dealing w nonbinary identities, and i fully expect the openly white nationalist party in my country to become a significant influence in national government within the next 10 years. i also have an escape plan of sorts, but i'm fully expecting that i may be legally detransitioned again. i would still be betraying myself fundamentally and stealing joy from myself, something that i get to have very little of, if i didn't do it anyway, bc i already cannot access plenty of services including healthcare bc i'm simply too dysphoric and institutionally traumatized to show up and be misgendered. there is no such thing as stealth or passing for a nonbinary person in the society i live in, only erasure; i might as well exercise this tiny amount of power i have been given for a brief time to force them to acknowledge me as who i am. i agree that having one's gender be irrelevant to one's personhood, including legally, would be vastly preferable, but i don't see how me getting an x in my id detracts from or otherwise influences that. my government already has plenty of ways of getting lists of trans ppl if they ever want one. i may be painting a target on my back, but as far as i am concerned, it is already there bc i am already incredibly vulnerable and restricted as a trans person for whom passing or stealth is not an option. i might as well get marginalized for who and what i am and make them look me in the eye at a doctor's office while they awkwardly tell me they don't have the infrastructure to process me as a patient than cringe and stammer while i tell them that actually i'm transgender and i would prefer for them to address me as this or that while knowing damn well they just see me as a quirky woman that they may or may not humor for hashtag diversity's sake. they may still do that ofc, but for all the risks and trouble i am incurring, it also corrects the scales of institutional power just a tiny bit in my favor by giving me legal grounds to argue. i'm also terrified of the police for good reasons, but i'm more terrified of them as a misgendered and scared but not out trans person unsure if and how much to advocate for myself than i am as someone confident enough to at least get hurt for who i am, rather than for who i am not and hiding out of fear of worse punishment. i am not advocating for anyone else to do or not do the same bc it is a subjective and highly varied set of risks and rewards that must be personally evaluated, and above all i'm very aware that as a white (not us) person, for all the institutional violence i have previously endured, i would be risking far worse if i were not, but as far as i am concerned, it feels like one of the best, most powerful things i can do for myself right now is to get the damn papers even if in the worst case they end up taking them away from me again.

Thanks for sharing your experience. I remember that when I was nonbinary and not medically transitioning, I felt much the same way. I was ready to really throw myself on the pyre for the sake of just actually being seen as not the gender I had been forced to be, for once. And honestly? Nothing short of medical transition did that. All the changes to my personal style, hair, comportment, voice training, the pronoun pins, the asserting myself, the putting pronouns in my email signature, the changing my medical forms and documentation at work to make me nonbinary, none of it made what felt like any lick of difference in how i was treated, because nonbinary identities are so thoroughly erased. The ONLY thing that got people to start treating me as gender ambiguous or to they/them me was to begin to transition as a trans man and use he/him pronouns, lol. (And eventually, most people did switch over to actually gendering me correctly as a guy, tho I still do get the they/them once in a while which annoys me and it's always VERY telling who tends to do it).

I don't know your situation or if you have medically transitioned in any fashion or not, or if you even want to, and our stories are different, but all of which is to say, I know how immensely frustrating it is and how confining it is to interpreted as your assigned gender seemingly no matter what you fucking do, and that sensation of being willing to take on serious risk to be seen. if anything that was part of what tipped me over into self conceptualizing as a gender nonconforming man rather than outside the binary altogether. different risks that i chose to take on, but still, the decision to take on risk rather than be locked away inside how people saw me.

I think structural nonbinary erasure runs so deep that very few individual level actions can make a dent in it and it's maddening. Of course there's all the intersections with transmisogyny that also impact who is visible as trans and who is not and who finds themselves yearning for greater visibility and those for whom visibility is nothing but massive vulnerability that itself cannot be escaped. But I understand that you've considered everything carefully and are aware of the risks in what you're taking on, and I hope that it does mean you don't feel that confined unseen feeling anymore. Because as much as I'm qualifying things I do know how fucking awful that sensation is and how few avenues there are for doing a damn thing about it that people will take seriously.

[vidavalor]

Hi @masnadies & friends! I don't really have a literal map, just an idea of where I think things are from what we've seen in S1 & S2. I love @mochacoffee's map & think that it makes sense that a ton of the space in the upstairs rotunda is shelves of books-- particularly, the bit visible from the main part of the shop downstairs-- but also that there are rooms up there, as we saw in S2. Aziraphale designed the shop as a space for him and Crowley so I think there's actually a lot of intentionality behind it. I've had some thoughts on this for awhile so I hope you all don't mind me sharing them here.

Some ideas on what rooms might exist and where they might be in the shop, how the threshold/invites work based on what we've seen, and what new room in the shop I would bet is going to be in The Finale. Also, what the story purpose in making the shop mysterious enough that we're having these conversations might be.

Design-wise, I think that the whole interior of the bookshop is built to look to any angels that might enter the front door like it's nothing but a bookshop that is a cover for the angelic embassy. Aziraphale only has the embassy so he can have the bookshop, which is really a cover for having as close to a house as Aziraphale had been able to manage while being a working angel. The way they are using the bookshop as a metaphor for Aziraphale (and for Crowley and Aziraphale) and its design tells us a lot about Aziraphale and his relationship with Crowley. What we have been allowed to glimpse of the bookshop-- and when, and in what order-- is very much intentional and part of both the design of the story and pf Aziraphale's design of the shop, imho.

In S1, the show uses the bookshop metaphor for Aziraphale by focusing more on Crowley's relationship with the bookshop than on Aziraphale's relationship with it. Each episode gives us more and more information regarding what level of access Crowley has to the shop that is symbolically Aziraphale as a way of slowly showing the audience the depth of the intimacy of his and Aziraphale's relationship.

In 1.01, we see Crowley feel safe for the first time in the episode when he and Aziraphale are in the bookshop. We see him on his couch, their familiar setup and being able to speak freely and have some privacy in the shop. Crowley's glasses come off for the first time in the minisode. It's the setting of the bookshop that helps to establish how close they are from the jump of the story. Each subsequent episode, though, begins to unfold that even more.

When the shop goes on fire, we find the doors will open for Crowley-- basically, that he has a key to Aziraphale's place. When Crowley goes back to the shop in Aziraphale's body during the body swap, we see him able to identify which books in the shop weren't there before Adam adjusted reality-- telling us that he spends so much time in the bookshop that he knows every detail of it. When he meets Aziraphale in the park afterwards, he tells Aziraphale that the bookshop is just as it was, with not a single smudge and everything in the same places that they always were.

While we just saw Crowley on the ground floor of the bookshop, this comment-- delivered while he's literally in Aziraphale's body, for fun symbolism-- is saying that Crowley has unfettered access to the entire bookshop and knows the whole place so well that he knows everything in it, everywhere, by heart, and could tell if anything was amiss in the shop. He knows his way around every room in the bookshop and has permission to go into any of them that he wants because they're basically his, too.

So... Crowley, while in the midst of the sexual metaphor that is the body swap, is seen telling Aziraphale that he went through their entire house and everything is fine, and this is not a conclusion that Crowley could have drawn without having gone into Aziraphale's bedroom-- and without being familiar enough with it to be able to tell if anything is amiss. This is the end of the steady progression of information about Crowley and the bookshop throughout S1 and it comes when they're in each other's bodies, ahead of the romantic Ritz finale.

In S2, we start to see a little more of the shop but what of it we see is reflective of the conflicts happening in the story, as it would be, right? First, we find out what's behind the door of the room behind Aziraphale's desk that remained closed in S1 and it's a subtle but potent reveal-- it's a room being used like a massive storage closet.

It's Aziraphale's actual backroom, not the office to which he brought Gabriel and Sandalphon in S1, which is built to be a place to which he can bring a visiting angel. This backroom is painted the color of Crowley's eyes and is a hodgepodge of random things that are being stored back here without a shred of the structure of the rest of the shop. While Aziraphale's bookshop is cluttered in a good way, that isn't what's happening in the backroom we see in S2. There's an open privacy screen in the corner that seems to be blocking off nothing. There's furniture and books just kind of pushed into the room-- random lamps. A chair just kinda stuck in there near the door. It's a storage unit, basically, and not a room that is in use, and it looks like it's holding things in limbo for a future that may or may not happen. It's stuff that belongs to he and Crowley that neither want to give away but that neither have room for in their lives at the moment. It's a total holding pattern of a room and Muriel bursting into it is literally the (literal) closet door being broken down by the supernatural cops, right?

In S1, the bookshop itself is essentially their closet but, as the supernatural characters like Gabriel and Muriel keep pushing further into the shop in S2, even as Crowley and Aziraphale wind up stopping hiding their relationship in S2, in the first half of it, we have this closet room representing them trying to try to find a space to talk openly in their own house during the chaotic week they're having.

Then, we see use of the home bar space in 1941 a bit, and this one is really interesting. While we saw this space in the present in S1 while Aziraphale was trying to figure out how to tell Gabriel about the antichrist kid mix up, now we see Crowley and Aziraphale using it and see that this table that Aziraphale keeps clutter on during the open hours is basically the dining room of the bookshop. It's positioned so that it's not in direct view from the front door of the bookshop-- just like how Crowley's couch is tucked away from immediate view of the door by the bookshelves.

If you look at the front of the shop-- everything between the front door and the cash register counter-- it actually does look like a little bookshop in its own right. The display tables and shelves and stacks of books along the wall. These are probably the books that Aziraphale can part with, if he absolutely must lol, and is really the only part of the shop that is truly the bookshop. Pretty much this bit below and the bookshelves where Crowley pulled the Jane Austen book that is on our right out of sight below:

Because the bookshop is metaphorically Aziraphale, I'm of the opinion that, technically, basically anyone can theoretically get through the front door. Humans are obviously kept away by locks and closed signs and restricted to business hours (whatever Aziraphale feels those are at any given moment lol.) The supernatural characters, though... The threshold, as Shax discovered in S2, is not actually the front door. Likely symbolic of how Aziraphale will give anyone a chance. The threshold is proven in both seasons to be the cash register counter-- the point at which what is meant to look entirely like a bookshop is really becoming Aziraphale's house, whether it seems that way to others or not. But, still, it means everyone can theoretically get into the entryway, right?

So, how do Crowley and Aziraphale have any privacy if the supernatural beings can all get through the front door?

Because they have found a way to exploit the angels and demons' dislikes of one another to get it.

Technically, the bookshop is an angelic space and an angel could demand entry to it and there's nothing Aziraphale could do but allow them to go wherever they wanted. This is the one weak spot because, while the demons won't want to deal with an angelic space and will just stay away, the angels are a different matter. Even if they cannot get past the cash register area without an invite, they need to believe like they have control over the space in order for Aziraphale to be able to keep it. So, why do the angels frequently turn up at the door asking to be let in, even if the vibes are very much that they feel it's sort of dumb that they have to ask and Aziraphale knows he has to say yes? Why don't they just go through the door?

Aziraphale out-psyched them, basically.

He told Heaven the truth-- the threshold to the shop is not the door but the cash register counter-- but he also told them that they were all going to make sure that the demons in Hell thinks the threshold is the front door. He told them that this is how they'll keep the embassy secure because, it being an embassy, they might have to allow a demon in during the daylight for spiritual counseling towards the light (the excuse for Crowley being seen sometimes entering the shop during business hours) but they can't just let a demon have unfettered access to a heavenly space-- that would be unseemly!

So, that's Aziraphale's argument for the threshold in the first place-- he needs control over the embassy space in order to protect it for Heaven and not just let these demons wander around in it unchecked. But he's made it so that Heaven thinks they're getting one over on Hell by making them think they're all in on the joke but that, for security purposes, they need to keep up the charade. They've all been told that they're supposed to go to the door for an invitation so that, if any demons are watching the place, they won't get suspicious that the door isn't really the threshold.

Crowley is keeping this going with the demons in S2, as well, when he leads Shax to think that the threshold is the door before she figures out he's lying during the bookshop attack. He also lies about his ability to invite people in, implying that only Aziraphale can, which we see later is untrue. Technically, anyone that Aziraphale has invited in can invite in other people behind them, which is how Maggie ended up inviting in all of the demons during the bookshop attack, and also why Crowley reminds Gabriel not to let anyone in when he rushes out of the shop after Shax while Aziraphale is in Edinburgh.

So, Aziraphale basically told Heaven that they all would know the truth, of course, that the threshold was the cash register but that they all wouldn't want the demons to find that out, right? That wouldn't be a very secure embassy. They need the demons to think that it's the same rules for everyone. Aziraphale's gotten them all to play along by making them go to the door and ask to be invited in, even though they could, technically, get in the front door and up to the cash register without an invitation. He's basically found a way to make them all ring the doorbell by exploiting their own prejudices against the demons.

This is shot now because, when Crowley and Aziraphale backed all the humans up into the living room, behind the cash wrap, Shax figured out that the door wasn't the threshold and tested her theory on poor Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets, basically proving what we saw back in S1 when Gabriel and Sandalphon showed up.

They arrived when the shop was open and Aziraphale was busy inside with basically the only time in the series he has ever had customers lol and so there was no reason for Gabriel and Sandalphon to need to be invited in at the door because the shop was in normal business hours and it was Gabriel who was there. The rules of the other angels and demons wouldn't be seen as applying to him-- but they both did need an invitation to go any further than the cash wrap. Aziraphale brought them into his back office, which is a room he was willing to sacrifice to visiting angels as a way of seeming totally transparent and keeping them from wanting to search through the rest of the shop.

But, anyway, I think this is why the shop is built the way it is-- it's a house that is designed to pass as a bookshop so it can pass as an embassy-passing-as-a-bookshop, so that it can exist. Aziraphale has never really wanted to run a bookshop; he just wanted his books and a safer, home-like place he and Crowley could be together in. It's a bookshop just because Aziraphale has so many books and that made it the best cover for the fact that it's not really much of a shop at all-- just the front part of it is and Aziraphale has to fight to keep anyone from trying to buy any of the books that are in the other 95% of the shop, all of which are really his and/or Crowley's.

It's set up so that if the angels ever are just inside the front door before the cash wrap--or if they go only into the backroom where Aziraphale brings Gabriel and Sandalphon in S1-- that they're basically just seeing what looks like a bookshop. If they look up into the second-floor rotunda from near the door or most places on the ground floor, they just see a second floor of shelves of books that they can presume that Aziraphale is selling to the humans. It's not until we go up there with the characters in S2 that we see rooms exist up there... tucked out of sight from below. The further we press into the shop and the more we go around corners, the more we see that its design is intentionally attempting to hide what the real purpose of the bookshop is.

Aziraphale and Crowley cannot trust that there won't be some night when, idk, Sandalphon or Michael or somebody decides to just suddenly appear in the front part of the shop instead of knocking at the door. If they did, they wouldn't be able to physically go any further than the cash register counter-- but they could see into the shop from there. That seems factored into Aziraphale's design of the shop.

Aziraphale built it so that if he and Crowley were having dinner or wine at the table in the bar area like they were in 1941, Part 2 or if they were cuddled up on Crowley's couch, that they're around corners or otherwise obstructed from view enough that it gives them the opportunity to not get immediately caught should an angel blow past the established norms of entry and show up in the front part of the bookshop. The table in the home bar and Crowley's couch are both positioned so that a person cannot directly see them from the front door of the shop, which would buy them both time should someone show up in the shop. The place is built to make it so that no one can get past the cash register counter threshold and, even if they get past the door and into that space without Crowley or Aziraphale realizing it, they likely won't catch Crowley in the shop, no matter what time of day they show up.

So, the main floor bookshop space is visible to everyone but rooms that are more personal or that are hiding something from Heaven just by existing are buried a bit further into the shop or behind a door that has been right there the whole time but that the show is taking longer to open.

It wasn't until S2 that we saw into the private room in the back-- the closet, as the two of them were kind of trying to come out of it when it came to their relationship. It's also not until then that we get to go upstairs and, when we do, see that the spots that you cannot see directly from the door below have rooms. This is Aziraphale's private residence and even this? Is mostly set up to be able to deflect, should Heaven ever get up here. Have a real look at Gabriel's completely bizarre room here:

This is the unused bedroom of the bookshop, really-- not Aziraphale's actual one. It looks like a messy monk lives in here. One the size of a hobbit, apparently, because that bed could not get any smaller. This room exists basically in case Sandalphon ever shows up and demands a tour. Here's Aziraphale's room that he can claim he never really uses and just has for pretense or in case there's an emergency and someone needs to lie down. Nothing to see here, Stasi-a-Fond, just my tiny, dollhouse bed that I absolutely cannot fit in on my own, let alone with that six feet of legs demon! Jim's bedroom is as much of a closet as the back room downstairs is.

So, what lives down the little hallway on the ground floor, back out of sight? And, even better, what is the room at the top of the stairs to the left of Gabriel's bedroom? We were shown this door but it remained closed for all of S2. It is to S2 what the closed back room that we saw in S2 was to S1-- this door we saw a few times and then went into in the next bit of story.

Given its location in the shop-- conveniently at the top of the stairs and beside another bedroom-- it's likely that this is Aziraphale's bedroom. Unlike many, I think that Aziraphale does sleep. (I'm pretty sure Gabriel is wearing Aziraphale's pajamas in that "Jim's Mug" scene in S2.) Regardless of his sleep habits, though, he has other uses for a bedroom and I don't think it's collecting dust.

There are also some spaces in the vicinity of Jim's room that I think could be a bathroom, which Aziraphale could claim is necessary for customers, as you all have said above. Do his customers need the likely nice shower and that probable clawfoot tub? 😂 Not exactly, but Aziraphale likely would say fuck it and figure he'll come up with something if Heaven finds out. He can tell Michael he's baptizing people up there or something. I think that the lure of bath time with The Serpent is likely too strong to pass up.

We know there's a kitchen in there that Aziraphale was using for the literal portion of his baking in during Lockdown, which I think is probably what's located if you keep going past the private room and the home bar into that unseen space. See from where Aziraphale emerges in the bit below?

Nina, Maggie & Gabriel follow him into the room afterwards and they all seem to be coming from some place down the little corridor that leads further back into the shop. I'm pretty sure that's where the kitchen is. I think that's also the direction from which Aziraphale came when he brought Muriel tea in S2 as well. I'm sure it's very warm and cozy but I have a sneaking suspicion that it'd be a room we'd find surprising in its organization. It would be one of the rooms in the house that makes it pretty clear that Crowley spends a lot of time in the shop. I wouldn't be surprised if there are some-- gasp!-- plants in there-- potted culinary herbs, probably. He likes to cook for them sometimes.

I don't think it'd be super-necessary to show the kitchen but I actually think there's a chance we still might see it in The Finale largely because of the fact that I think we're going to flash back to the aftermath of Aziraphale blowing up his halo and briefly see some of what went down between then and the next morning-- namely, the convo with The Metatron that Aziraphale says the next morning took place, and the aftermath of that. If we go back to that night, we could see Aziraphale, Gabriel, Nina & Maggie talking in the kitchen. They also might cut that bit of it for the film but, either way, that's the area where it seems to me like the kitchen might be-- hidden pretty deep in the back of the shop, suggested to us but completely out of sight of Heaven.

If we consider that the bookshop is being rolled out to us slowly and in an intentionally incomplete way so far in support of a story that is doing the same... and if we then ask what big rooms remain that we haven't yet seen? There's really only the kitchen and Aziraphale's bedroom.

So, what haven't we seen in the bookshop yet ahead of The Finale?

The kitchen and Aziraphale's bedroom... food and sex. 😉 Not really terribly dissimilar things to these two...

It's been there all along but, as the story hits its end game, I think they'll likely reveal it a little more directly and, if they keep going with the way they've been using the bookshop to tell the story so far, they're going to use going into the previously unseen bedroom in the bookshop to do it. The one, new room we're getting for sure in The Finale is Aziraphale's bedroom-- likely circa 1941. It'll be clear that while it's the first time we're seeing it, it's a space with which Crowley is already plenty familiar.

Then, off to their South Downs Cottage where they can finally just have their own damn house without all of these shenanigans.

Speaking of the bookshop, theories on what could be upstairs?

ooooo the BIG QUESTION.

so we can see a bit of the second floor in all these pics:

basically all we know for sure is there are A LOT MORE BOOKS, both stacked around the railing and on the circle of shelves. neil has decided not to comment on what else might be there (YET 👀) but he’s confirmed that much.

apart from that, we can see from the outside that there are six windows on the second floor:

i’m going to assume they’re part of the shop because they’re Very On Fire when the rest of the shop is on fire. SO. taking all that into account, you end up with something like this:

where the thin grey circle is the railing and the brown one is the bookshelves (as you can see in the first pic, it doesn’t circle all the way around!)

the rest is a complete mystery. i mean i’m sure the actual set was empty because they didn’t need to fill it, but in theory there’s room for some interesting stuff! with the first floor for scale i can imagine a whole flat built around that circle of shelves — a bed aziraphale never sleeps in, comfy chairs, every other angel knick-knack he’s encountered in his life. in my personal headcanon it’s all books and hoarded items covered in dust, which he leaves for authenticity.

thank you for asking!! i’d love to hear other people’s thoughts if they want to share :)

[mytearsbuckochet]

What's your most hated Bummy scene?? I'll tell you mine. It has to be the kiss in the hospital lobby and buck getting outed because of his soot covered mouth. Never hated a 911 episode more than that. I love Buck. They just made a mockery out of him by that scene.

Where do I even start.. Couldn't agree more about the soot scene, although I'm more angry at the writers about that one than I am at Tommy, given how important it was to Buck that he came out to Eddie and Maddie on his own terms and how much weight he gave those interactions I feel like even though that one was supposed to be a cute little "hehe look this is very Buck coded", it fell short in that I would've liked everyone else at the 118 to find out in a more heartfelt way ya know??

In terms of my least favourite(s), the whole arc with billy boils was a very interesting play by the writers in that it highlighted the differences between Eddie and Tommy in a meaningful way. On one hand, Eddie, who has presumably been with Buck in the hospital the whole time he was being treated for his boils, is used to Buck's hyperfixations and Wiki deep dives, and finds them wholesome and cute. I reblogged a post a little bit ago where Buck told Maddie about how her and Chim always finish each others sentences and that theyre basically already dating, and then contrasted with how Eddie was finishing Buck's sentences in that scene. Buddie fanatic aside (I will admit im obsessed with these two idiots), THIS is the kind of domesticity I've always wanted for Buck's partners, where they acknowledge and love those little moments that he has.

Now lets go ahead and look at Tommy's side of this whole thing: Tommy's reaction to seeing the boils + how he treated and viewed Buck's obsession as exactly that, an obsession + the graveyard scene??? You can break it down into "oh well Buddie have known eachother since s2, Bummy have been together 6 months", but from my perspective the fact that Buck didn't even realise Tommy didn't like women until their 6 month anniversary (???) just goes to show that they don't really know that much about one another. Tommy was completely right in the breakup scene; he was definitely not Buck's last, and the poor guy is definitely in need of some self exploration (#letbuckfuck) before I'd be happy to see Buddie honestly (and thats not even considering the work that needs to be done on Eddie, my guy is going through it rn with Chris). Anyway; I just read this amazing fic by playinginthundestorms (on ao3) and I think the way they described Tommy (slightly Tommy bashing), was overall how I imagine he sees Buck. It never really felt like Tommy was fond of these little things Buck does in the way that Eddie (and the rest of the 118) are, more seeing him as childish or juvenile as the fic described. And it makes sense, tommy is older than Buck. A whole other can of worms and probably the icing on the cake for me was the Abby debacle, the misogyny really showed??? like man you have not changed since Hen my lord. Calling Abby out for running off with some "himbo half her age" was wild considering thats what he is currently doing with Buck? Especially with all the shit she had to go through with her mum at the time? Like what on earth is your excuse Temu? Anyway, to cut a long rant short, I actually have given you like 50 reasons, but i definitely think that Tommy was a well placed plot device and it was obvious from the start. Also, ABC could've chosen ANYONE to be Buck's first experience with a man and they were like yep lets use the racist homophobe from Chim and Hen begins cos why not?! I probably would've had a far less negative opinion of him if he was a fresh character, and I think that's on purpose, I think it would be really interesting if they go down the road of hen and chim sharing their experiences with Tommy now that they've broken up, and that they didn't say anything cos they just wanted Buck to be happy. Definitely after that heartfelt scene with Hen especially, that I didn't get cos of that bloody soot scene.

[quinngefail]

Is Lawrence a “no Adam, we are not keeping the stray cat you found” but then immediately falls in love with the cat type guy. Is he. I need to know

SHAKING

💥 Rambling Beast Incoming 💥 Because I will not lie. I've thought about this a lot LMAO

I am also putting a cut. Because this got to be way longer than anticipated, and also slowly pivots into just being a short fic HRKGMGKGK......

But uh I've imagined that the conversation came up during a late night. They'd been staying together, and just being together for a few months now. They have a lot of conversations that revolve around just asking each other about all sorts of things, getting to know one another more and more. And just being able to freely ask things that certainly weren't important during their six hours in hell. 'Getting to know you's in significantly less stressful environments, basically.

At some point that night, Lawrence asks Adam what some things on his bucket list are. Adam gets a little flustered, and sorta mumbles, "I promise it's nothing that exciting."

But of course, Lawrence wants to hear anyway. Doesn't matter if it's 'I want to have a concert on the moon', or 'I want to find a lucky penny on the subway'. He just wants to hear anything and everything from this man, no matter what Adam's harsh inner voice may repeatedly insist.

So Adam begins to explain one of the biggest things on that list, which is that he's just always wanted a pet. A cat, specifically, as they're his favorite. Because even in a world where his parents could have afforded to take care of one, they wouldn't have anyway. They both just did not care for animals, and weren't exactly hesitant to very bluntly express their disdain for them, in far less kind words. And even if Adam had been existing on his own for about 6-7 years now, he certainly wasn't ever in a comfortable enough financial state to take care of a pet. And he could truly never forgive himself if he was the reason for any amount of harm coming to something that was so innocently dependant on him... The man who had struggled to feed even himself.

So, he had just shoved that idea to the back of his mind. But the longing never stopped, of course.

Once he's finished, Lawrence gives a saddened nod, and offers his sympathetic words. But, there's a few moments of silence before he perks up a bit. Why don't they just get one, then.

Adam blinks a few times in surprise, but he can't keep a little smile from creeping up his face.

"Well, you know I'm not going to say no to that," he responds. "But only if you're really okay with having a little bastard running around your place,"

Lawrence first starts with a dry chuckle. "Oh, I don't think I'm a stranger to that anymore, darling. In fact, I'm rather acquainted with the little hellion I've already welcomed into my home. And you know, I am quite fond of him."

Adam's smile only grows larger, and more crooked, as he rolls his eyes. "Yeah okay, whatever, asshole." But it's only a second or two before their shared laughter fills the bedroom.

"Well, it'll certainly be loved." Lawrence remarks in the lull of their banter. "And completely spoiled."

"Oh, abso-fuckin'-lutely." Adam nods, cracking a cocky smirk. "It'll have no idea that I've been waiting 20 some years for this shit. Poor bastard's in for of some of the most obnoxious, sappy, lovey dovey shit ever. It'll hate us so much."

"Oh yes, nothing but malice towards us. It'll want us both dead." Lawrence smiles back. "Well, we can start looking around for our unlucky candidate tomorrow, if you'd like."

"Fuck yeah," Adam grins, curling both hands into eager fists. Really though, on the inside, he was running rapid, ecstatic laps around his brain.

His ass was not going to be able to sleep tonight.

"...And thank you," he quietly adds, highly masking just how much he wanted to repeat his gratitude again, and again, and again, and again- though, he was sure this masking was to limited success, for the shaking of his hands were at least one thing that currently betrayed him-

"Of course, Adam."

Their hands then find one another, and squeeze... One shaking hand unable to keep itself from squeezing down hard.

~~~

AND THEN...... THERE WERE CATS !! >:3

And they are indeed spoiled rotten and deeply loved by the both of them LMAO

[alxxbee]

Hiii Alex I hope you are having a wonderful day!!😊 I have a question to ask you and you don't need to answer if you don't want to of course!!

I was wondering if you would mind sharing how you became an artist, if that makes sense? Or perhaps how you draw, I think that's more like it! I've been struggling a little bit and since you are extremely talented I thought perhaps you could explain your process when drawing a character (did you learn some anatomy techniques or maybe you learned some tricks and tips from tutorial videos.)?

I guess what I am trying to say is how did you learned to draw characters, if that is a possibility for you to share of course. I don't want to pressure you or seem mean by making you reveal your process when it comes to art.

Thank you very much for reading this ask and I hope that you are doing okay.💗🤗

Thank you!!

I am a self taught artist and i only draw whatever i liked since i was a little kid, so i never really watched any drawing tutorials to “better my art” since i was doing it purely for fun. Whenever i find a cartoon i like i would try to replicate the style of it but also add my own uniqueness to it, how i draw HH characters now was not my art style a year ago! But i only just started replicating styles, I think for the longest time i would draw in a cutesy anime way. I use a bunch of referencing too, that helps a lot! I personally don’t use shapes or bases when i sketch, i kinda just go with the flow if you know what i mean? I make a lot of mistakes sketching so inverting the canvas and using the (liquify) tool to tweak it before i start doing line art helps a lot. (im also just a huge perfectionist 😔)

Of course it takes a while to get the hang of finding your own art style, when things got too hard i would go on pinterest and get inspiration from other artists there! when it comes to posing, rendering..+ I have separate pinterest boards for each thing. aaaand before this gets too long i just wanted to say thank you again! Every artist has their own unique way of their drawing process, my advice is to keep drawing, don’t focus on negatively comparing your work to anyone else’s, that can get really draining very fast. Do whatever helps you the most and one day you’ll look back to your old art and see how far youve come (i just personally think that’s the best part of it all) 💖

[melled42]

I may not be one of the anons asking, but I've been loving learning about this stuff because I'm also intersex!!! Knowing I share such a unique trait with them makes me trust them implicitly (they are going to rob me blind.)

wahoo! intersex does need more representation in general as is.

hope no one in the community is too offended by my cis butt making an intersex character. I always like to use my character designs to slip marginalized genders, biology or sexuality into stories, but i try not to make it a defining trait, since im not qualified to write that story. i still want to try and introduce people to the concepts and make it a more comfortable fandom space to introduce a wider, richer variety of characters.

its one of the reasons i like monster/nonhuman characters in general. they force even the most set in their ways people to get out of the default cis/het mindset to explore things through a different pov they don't have as many preconceived biases about.

plus why would i want to limit my bits? as the artist, i can choose violence

[ramonaflow]

Sunday Sentences

Thank you for the tag @hippolotamus ❤️

It's possible I already shared this because it's been a while since I've written anything. So if you already read this? No you didn't lol

Are you okay?” They're so close together that Patrick feels like he's barely holding on to reality.

“What?” Patrick realises he had been holding his breath.

“I don't know you seem distracted and look a little...” He trails off, flicking his fingers towards him in a nervous gesture.

Oh sure sure. I'm fine. Just can't stop thinking about you naked!

“Oh no. I'm fine. I'm good. I think I'm just a bit tired.”

Tired of trying to hold a conversation when my cock is literally throbbing in my jeans.

Tagging @flowertrigger @a-noble-dragon @smblmn @beaiola @trickiwooao3 @carolrain @jamilas-pen @wordthieve @smallumbrella369 @stargazer56 @alienajackson @mostlyinthemorning @russolaw @characterassassination-at-9am @filet-o-feelings @tyfinn anyone else who wants to 💖

[eldritch-spouse]

So, here's Vorago... Apologies for the pictures, I took it from my phone and I tried my best.

I admit I based his design on that time you referred to him as a "big lazy lion" and made him a bit more animal-like, and also gave him a bit of a beard to try to blend in the mane. I hope you're okay with that interpretation.

And also, since this IS a porn blog after all, here's a "spicier" drawing of him.

I hardly ever show porn art because I'm self-conscious sooo you can consider yourself privileged.

And as a bonus here's some art of Santi based on your story "Bidding on Obsession".

Y/n is grumpy about how she's going to explain that at work, he is telling her she should just ditch work and spend the day with him instead~.

I hope you like it because BOY am I stepping out of my comfort zone here 🫣

There's no need to make yourself uncomfortable! Just because this is a smut/porn blog, doesn't mean you have to send exclusively sexual content. There's absolutely no problem if you don't want me to post or see something.

You've taken a very different approach to the characters, it's interesting to see because few people have ever deviated to that degree when drawing some of my ocs. You can still tell who they are, it's like an adaptation, I've been stuck staring at these for a while now.

That being said, they're super pretty and you have a charming style that I appreciate :7. Thenk you for sharing even if it made you a little uncomfortable.

[lucrezianoin]

All Bellara and Davrin Dalish banter transcribed

I wrote a summary of all of Davrin's Dalish info from banter that is hard to get in game, hopefully I did not miss any. The video of Bellara and Davrin banters is here.

This is the transcription:

Bellara: Do you ever go back and see your clan, Davrin? Davrin: Not since I left the forest. Bellara: So you don't see family or friends? Davrin: No. Been a long time. Bellara: Does that bother you? Davrin: I'm the one who left. That's on me. Bellara: You must miss them. Davrin: It comes and goes. Different part of my life.

Bellara: So you're a Warden now. But you're also Dalish, right? Or at least, you were? Davrin: I'll always be Dalish. That'll never change. The sight of an aravel still brings back memories. Bellara: Good ones? Davrin: Some. Racing them through the forest as fast as the wind would take us. Bellara: I loved doing that. Davrin: And breaking my arm when our aravel sailed off a ridge. Bellara: I loved that too. Good times.

Bellara: Do you ever regret leaving your clan, Davrin? Davrin: I don't regret the life I've lived, joining the Wardens. The things I've seen and done. Bellara: There's a "but" in there. Davrin: But… sometimes I wish I could've done both. Bellara: Not much room for that. Davrin: No, you're part of the clan, giving yourself over to it, or you're not. I made my choice.

Davrin: The thing about being Dalish - I needed to see the rest of the world to understand why the Dalish part of it was special. Bellara: In what way? Davrin: I didn't appreciate my life at the time. How could I? A clan sticks to itself and you stick to the clan. Davrin: Not much room for seeing what's outside it. Bellara: Right. I get that.

Bellara: When I was little. Very little, I mean. We'd pass through towns and villages. I always wondered: What's that like? To settle down. To stop moving all the time. Davrin: Right? Have a house to call your own. Shop at the market instead of foraging for food. Davrin: Make friends with outsiders. Bellara: But you got that chance. You did it. How was it? Davrin: It was… different.

Bellara: So how different was life outside your clan? Davrin: I started to see what I took for granted. I missed the food. Bellara: They didn't have any where you went? Davrin: Dalish food. You don't appreciate halla milk 'til you don't have any. Butter too. Nothing like it in Thedas. Bellara: What about the people? Davrin: I missed the sense of a common purpose. A clan acting as one. Everywhere else, people were in it for themselves. Davrin: It's a reason I joined the Grey Wardens. Guess I needed that purpose again. The shared fight.

Bellara: I can't even read some of these books. I wonder what they say? Davrin: Do we really want to know? Bellara: Sure, the world can always use more knowledge about - Davrin: No, I mean you and I. Do the Dalish need any more rocks in our history being turned over? Bellara: Feels like we're a little late on that one.

[legomonkiefics]

Story of Mk where we sit him down and tell him to actually relax. Since this boy needs to have a relaxing day where he isn't stressing.

Maybe we put on Monkey Cop and do a movie marathon?

💛🍜 To Calm a Monkey Kid — MK x GN Reader Drabble 💛🍜

Genres: Fluff, mild hurt/comfort || He/they pronouns for MK, they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨🍜୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

Having MK home for an extended period of time was usually very difficult. He was a delivery boy, local hero, and successor all at the same time. Suffice to say, home was something he was gradually seeing less and less of. And you weren't having one bit of it. It was all well and good that he was stopping Jin and Yin from messing with the city power and whatnot, but you were beginning to see how it affected them. Dark circles, droopy posture, a more unkempt appearance. Though MK always brushed it off with a smile and a wink, you knew them well enough to look past it. So when you got home one day, you began putting into motion a plan.

MK slid in hours later, closing the door behind them and sighing heavily. Their bandana was loose, hair ruffled, and body language slumped and heavy. As was consistent for the past few months, he looked an absolute wreck. "MK?" You called out, hearing the door closed from another room. MK shook off his exhaustion, quickly making their hair neat and rubbing his eyes. He bounded down the hallway, peeking in your shared bedroom to try and find you.

"Just got home! Where you at, baby?" They called. You came in from the bathroom, giving him a soft, concerned smile. He immediately wrapped you up, vibrant mask in full effect "There you are!". "How was your day?" You asked, immediately taking notice of how MK deflated just a bit. "Well- I'm not reaaally where I wanna be in my training, and the demons attacking today were pretty tough. And Pigsy's Noodles was just crawling with orders-" they listed off. Seeing you frown, MK immediately added, "But I'm fine! It's the end of the day now, so I'm good!". They felt a small hint of stress upon seeing your frown only deepen.

"Hey, hey, what's up? Did something happen?" He asked. "No, but... I'm worried about you" You admitted "You've been stretched thin these past few months. I can't remember the last time I saw you eat anything but noodles, and you're barely home". "I know" MK sighed, rubbing the back of their neck "But it's okay! I'll-"

"It's not okay" You interrupted, not rudely, but firmly "MK, I love you, and you cannot keep doing this to yourself. It's not healthy, honey. I don't want you to run yourself into the ground for other people". MK hung their head a bit, a look of guilt on their face. You gently rubbed their shoulder "I don't want to make you feel forced into anything, and I'll never ask you to give up your dream. But I need you to look out for yourself too, yeah? If you ever need my help, you can always ask". MK nodded, looking back up at you with a small smile, a genuine and vulnerable one this time "You're... right. You always are. It's just so hard with so much going on, y'know? I feel like I've got to be the Monkey Kid, all the time. But with you, I'm just... just Xiaotian"

"And that's an amazing thing" You said, gently kissing his forehead. He smiled wider, returning it by giving you a big kiss to the cheek. You chuckled, ruffling his messy hair "I've got a plan for us tonight, Xiao. Firstly, you gotta get all that hero stink off. Then we'll take it easy, as a first step to taking better care of yourself. Is that okay?". MK chuckled as well at the ruffling, looking at you with appreciative softness "Uh, yeah! Thank you so much, honeybee, I'll catch up in a sec". They gave you another big kiss to your face before picking up a new set of clothes and entering the bathroom.

As the successor cleaned, you prepped the rest of the room. Fluffed pillows, clean comforter, and all of MK's Monkey King cuddleable merch you could carry. You then sped off to the kitchen, picking up a tray of snacks you'd prepared. It didn't take long for MK to emerge again as clean, dressed in comfortable pajamas, with damp hair he was keeping down. They looked at the setup you'd finished as they were gone, glancing to the TV. Seeing what was on, their eyes brightened immensely and a broad grin came on his face.

They scrambled over, hopping into bed and crawling under the covers, causing you to have to catch the snack tray before it got tossed off. "No way!! You got Monkey Cop on DVD?!" They asked excitedly. You sat in beside him, scooting close to his side "It's a DVD set, actually. All the movies are in the box". MK flapped his hands excitedly, trying not to kick too much since he was easily getting tangled in the covers. "Yesss!! Are you finally gonna watch them all with me?" They asked, looking to you like an excited dog. You laughed a little, wrapping an arm around them and pressing your cheeks together "Absolutely. I think it's about time, yeah?"

MK scooped up the remote, quickly starting rhe first movie. He turned off the lights, snuggling down into the covers as he began munching from the bowl of popcorn you'd brought. You leaned into their shoulder as they kept an arm around you, seeing as the movie opened up. MK nuzzled the top of your head. "Thanks for this, babe. I really needed it". You smiled, nuzzling into them into return "No problem. You can come to me whenever, I'll always help you out"

With that, you two cuddled up more, wrapped in a bundle of blankets. MK moved his arm to where he could hold your hand, petting your fingers affectionately with his thumb as he watch the cheesy cop film with you. He made a promise to himself internally in that moment. Days like this, times like these with you, were what he was fighting for the most