#or Rory is is well and truly gone

[katoska]

"Proceed with caution as sandworms can be extremely dangerous, for both the Living and the Dead. If a Deceased Soul is eaten by a Sandworm, they will still remain in the Afterlife. The same applies to the Living, they must live in the Afterlive as a million tiny particles."

[vladajwrites]

Razor’s Edge

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

Summary; Reader moves to Woodsboro for her senior year of high school. This story take place in the setting of the Scream 4 movie. This story is dedicated to all of the girls living through the current Rory Culkin revival. I love and see you. <3

Also available to be read on AO3 here

It's imperative for me to mention MAJOR trigger warnings for this story; blood, violence, sexual content, alcohol usage, and mentions of abusive situations and suicide. I will add and edit tw's as needed.

WC; 5,043

Notes;

Part 3 should be available soon. Thank you for any and all support! It truly means the world to me. Check post comments after reading chapter for additional statements.

As you had anticipated, Irina was truly overjoyed to learn how your first day of school had gone. She asked so many questions; the conversation went well into the night after she had returned home from work. 

“Could you see yourself becoming friends with any of the other students?” Irina asked from the kitchen table as you cleared remnants of dinner from the counter. 

You set a plate down in the sink and contemplated her question. Thinking back on the people you met over the course of the day, a few names came to mind. Kirby seemed kind. You had exchanged numbers after film club had ended. Her other friend, Jill, seemed a fine enough person as well, though a bit more reserved. 

You thought back to any of the other conversations you had throughout the day. Robbie’s awkward invitation played over, albeit a brave gesture, it didn’t seem like likely grounds for a friendship. Your thoughts then shifted to Robbie’s counterpart. 

Charlie seemed to keep much more to himself. It felt special to have someone, practically a stranger, come to your defense in any sort of situation. Charlie could be a friend, possibly. A half smile slipped up your lips. What did you know, though? Maybe it wasn’t really a possibility at all.

“I don’t know, maybe. I think it’s too soon to tell.” You spoke over your shoulder, holding your hand under the kitchen faucet, waiting for the water to warm. 

“Hmm,” Irina began, you peered over at her. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth, concealing a knowing smile. “Well, I have hope for you. Don’t count anybody out just yet.” 

You nodded, loading glasses and silverware into the dishwasher. 

If it were meant to happen, you figured it would. The only real matter of importance to you at the moment was pushing through your classes, giving yourself an opportunity to move you forward in life. It wouldn’t be long until college applications and standardized testing would be consume most of your free time and thoughts. 

The next few weeks passed by as most did when beginning a new school year. The teachers, thankfully, kept most assignments and quizzes simple to build back the tolerance towards regular class work that had been lost over the summer break. 

As you had also expected, the introductions and sudden interest other students had towards you started to fizzle out as they fell back into their usual routines. Although Kirby had become a welcomed energy in your space. She went out of her way to speak to you in classes you shared. She had even recently began to invite you to join her and her small circle to leave campus during your lunch period. It felt nice to be included, even if you had yet to be around them outside of school hours. 

Charlie had continued to walk with you to film club most days. The two of you shared very little actual conversations. Most moments were filled with a comfortable silence. 

You really began to pick up on things in the club. You’d write yourself small lists of the movies mentioned during that hour and return home to watch as many as possible while you worked on your homework. It was nice to have things to fill your time, distractions to push any memories away from before your return to Woodsboro.

The air had started to chill and change as September crept its way to the present day. It was a cloudy Friday, nearly two full weeks had passed since that first day of school. You were walking your usual route towards room 120A, Charlie in step beside you. Just before you were able to make it through the classroom doors, you heard your name called from the opposite end of the hallway.

You looked up to find Scotty Anderson gawking his way towards you. ‘Shit,’ you rolled your eyes. You had done a pretty good job of avoiding him and his group since the sports equipment bag debacle. You glanced over at Charlie. His frame was unusually rigid, no discernable emotion in his expression. 

You sucked in your cheeks, debating on just turning into the classroom. It was better to just get this over with than put it off; you decided. 

You took a few steps forwards, meeting Scotty in the middle of the hallway. You held both hands in front of you, tapping your foot as you thought of what he could have to say to you.

“Hey, I know we haven’t had the opportunity to speak.” Scotty began, moving the same bag of equipment up onto his shoulder. “I just wanted to apologize for running into you the other day. Definitely not cool.” It was clear in his tone he didn’t actually mean a word of what he had just said. 

You nodded, biting the tip of your tongue. You never expected an apology, and after as much time had passed, you really didn’t care to have one. You were more confused about why he had apologized now, after days had passed. 

“It’s fine man, don’t worry about it.” You replied, turning on your heel to head back towards the classroom. Scotty’s hand gripped its way around your upper arm, spinning you back towards him. You were visibly taken aback by the sudden motion and intrusion into your personal space. 

“Look, let me make it up to you. Give me your number, I’ll take you out sometime, show you around Woodsboro.” He practically demanded, a sly cocky grin plastered across his face. He was just plainly handsome, the athletic and popular type you imagined some girls would go for. You might’ve given him a chance too, if things hadn’t started out the way they had. He was still somehow able to make his chances even worse though as he continued to talk. You weren’t the least bit interested. 

You glanced over your shoulder. Charlie was still standing in the doorway, his eyes flashed quickly between you and Scotty. A disgusted frown clung to his lips as he watched the situation unfolding before him. 

You looked back up at Scotty, shaking your arm out of his grasp. “No thank you,” you replied, barely above a whisper. 

His eyes widened in disbelief, as if he’d never heard those words before. “What?” His mouth hung agape. 

“I said no. I’m just not interested.” You replied, this time more sternly. 

Scotty scoffed, surely attempting to conceal his bruised ego. He stomped his way down the hallway like a toddler. “Ugly bitch.” You could hear him mutter as he grew further away. 

You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to conceal your shocked laughter. You turned back around. Charlie was gone from his spot. A stupid smile plastered on your face as you entered film club. If Anderson truly felt that way, he would’ve never made an attempt to come onto you in the first place. You found your seat next to Kirby and looked up at Charlie, believing he’d be laughing with you too over the situation, only he didn’t seem amused at all. He wouldn’t even look up to meet your eyes. 

His cold shouldered treatment continued into the next week as well. You figured things would just be as they were before as the last bell rang that following Monday. Before you had the chance to grab your things, Charlie had brushed past you, disappearing into the crowd of students in the hall. 

You weren’t sure why it hurt your feelings so much. He didn’t owe you anything. You were perfectly capable of making it to the club without him. But still, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as the next few days unfolded in the same way. He’d barely look at you, let alone speak to you. You were trying to wrap your head around why he was acting this way. You had done anything wrong to your knowledge, but then again, maybe you had. You couldn’t bring yourself to push the matter, though. You had no idea what to say to him. 

That following Friday, during your second to last period, your biology teacher announced the outline for the first heavily graded project of the semester. It was a group project. He’d assign the groups and specific topics each trio would be required to present. The classroom mumbled and huffed at the announcement. 

You listened carefully as the teacher made his way down the list of students he held in his hands. You glanced around the room as the group of prospective partners grew smaller. You hoped you would be paired with people you at least vaguely knew.

The teacher then called your name. Your head snapped to meet his finger dragging across the list he held in his right hand. You waited intently for the next names to be called. 

“You’ll be in a group with Mercer and Walker. Your topic is genetic pedigree.” You sunk down in your seat. Eyes flashing towards Robbie, who gave you a smile and thumbs up. You couldn’t bring yourself to look towards Charlie, who sat beside him. 

You dropped your head into your hands, letting your hair cover your face. You knew you’d have to muster the courage to say something to Charlie. The project was important, and you didn’t want any made-up qualms to affect the way you all worked together. 

As class concluded, Robbie stopped you in the Hallway. You watched Charlie walk past without looking behind him or waiting for his friend. You followed his frame carefully until losing him as he turned down the hall. 

“Hey, if it’s alright, could I grab your number?” Robbie asked. You’d nearly forgotten he was standing there. “For the project, of course. We’ll have to work on it outside of school, and just if you- or I, have any questions..” You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of red. 

You tried your best to give him a reassuring smile and nodded. “Of course Robbie, yeah, that makes sense.” 

“Awesome!” He sighed in relief, handing you his cellphone to type in your contact information. “See you in film club?”

You nodded again, watching Robbie turn on his heels and vanish into the crowd of students headed towards their next class. 

Your last class of the day felt like torment, the minutes passed by so incredibly slowly. It seemed as though the second hand on the clock was frozen in place as you waited and listened for each tick it made. 

You could feel eyes stuck to you as you sat, unfurling the hem of your sweater. You glanced behind you. Charlie met your eyes, he was mimicking your own movements, heel tapping on the floor below him. 

He looked absolutely miserable, pained even. He looked down at the ground as your eyes lingered for just a moment longer. You suddenly felt incredibly guilty. Maybe there was something going on with him completely outside of school, outside of you, and you had been so entirely selfish to believe his change in demeanor was a direct result of anything you had done. 

You sat at your desk now braiding, unbraiding, and rebraiding the same three strands of hair near the front of your face. How could you have not attempted to reach out to him sooner? You felt like an absolutely sorry excuse for an acquaintance, let alone a friend. 

You had your belongings packed and together before the final bell rang, you’d make sure to catch him this time. As soon as the clock rang to dismiss the class, you were up from your seat, headed to the doorway to catch him in the hall. 

He was quick to step past you, head fixated on the crowd in front of him. You worked faster, grabbing the strap of his backpack and pulling him through the doorway of an empty adjoining classroom. 

He looked shocked as he spun to face you, his mouth held agape, before snapping his lips into a tight line.

“What is wrong with you?” You asked, surprised even by your own hasty actions. As soon as the words left your lips, you regretted them. What’s wrong with you? Really? There wasn’t a better way for you to ask what was going on? You silently scolded yourself. 

“What?” He asked, taking an immediately defensive tone, understandably so. 

“I mean, what is going on with you? Is everything okay? You’ve gone through quite the effort to act like I don’t exist this past week.” You replied, amending your original question. 

He looked you over, scoffing. You brought your hands up over your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious. 

“Look, if it’s attention you’re looking to get from somebody, don’t bother me about it.” He spoke just above a whisper, as if he could barely get his own words out. 

His words made your eyes prick up. You felt your body heat flush as your jaw grew increasingly tense. What was wrong with him? His glare faltered for a moment, his hands dropping to his sides.

“I just mean…” He paused before continuing, “you’ve got Anderson. I don’t understand why you’d want me around.” 

Your eyes widened in shock, realizing he hadn’t stuck around till the end of the conversation you had with Scotty the week prior. This was really the reason he had become so cold towards you? It was ridiculous. He was so-

You couldn’t hold back the astonished laughter, the absolute nerve. Charlie’s expression morphed into confusion. He seemed almost hurt to have you laughing in his face. Good. 

“You really thought I wanted anything to do with that asshole? I didn’t even give him my number.” You exclaimed, throwing your hands back towards your thighs. 

Charlie’s face bore the full front of sudden guilt. Your hurt turned to anger. He could’ve asked, but he just assumed. Even then, what issue could he possibly take with you speaking to or seeing another man? 

You took a step forward, closing the distance between the two of you. Charlie took a deep breath, eyes glancing between you and the pointer finger you now dug into his chest. 

“I thought you were a friend, you fucking prick.” You whispered just beside his ear. You could feel his heartbeat wildly pound against your finger, could nearly hear it from the proximity you shared. Or maybe that was your own heart you were hearing. You couldn’t have been sure. 

Before giving him a chance to respond, you stormed your way out of the room. Making a beeline to your car. 

Fuck. Fuck that stupid fucking film club. And fuck Charlie Walker. 

You sped home, slamming the front door behind you. You rushed up the stairs, hearing your aunt call your name from the living room. You stopped in your tracks, shouting down to her, “I’m fine, I promise. Just need a moment alone.” 

You waited for a second to hear her response. You were surprised she was home from work so early. After a few moments, Irina responded, “Okay.” She didn’t sound entirely convinced, but knew better than to pry. 

You shut your bedroom door, falling flat onto your bed. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered. You didn’t need him around. 

An hour passed by, and then another before you heard your phone ringer buzz twice.

You scrambled for your phone, which was still in your bag on the ground beside your bed where you had thrown it earlier. 

Two text messages from an unknown number flashed on the screen.

“Hey, didn’t see you in film club. Everything good?” Your heart skipped in your chest. Could it be-? Your question was answered by the second message. “Robbie btw.”

You sighed, rolling onto your back, holding the phone above your face. You thought for a moment before responding. “Wasn’t feeling well, all good, though.” You added Robbie’s name to his contact info before setting the phone down beside you. 

Another minute passed before your phone buzzed again. “Cool. Would you be down to meet up later to start on our project?” Robbie’s message read.

You thought about it for a moment. The idea didn’t seem particularly great, but it would be nice to just get it all over with. You responded with a simple, “Sure.”

Almost instantly, a new message was sent. You opened it to find another phone number beside Robbies. In a new group chat Robbie asked, “Where and what time do you guys wanna meet up?” The other number had to be Charlies. You rolled your eyes, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Your fingers hovered above the keyboard as you thought up a response. You knew Irina would be more than happy to host, and it’d save you a trip from going elsewhere in town.

“My place, 7pm?” You replied. 

“We’ll be there.” Robbie responded. 

You sent your address to the pair and locked your phone, shoving it in your back pocket. 

You figured it was time to face your aunt, let her know people would be coming by the house later. You called out to her, hearing her reply from her bedroom. You stopped in her doorway, watching her pack clothing into a small black suitcase.

“Where are you going?” You asked, walking up beside her. 

She looked up from her work. “I have a few meetings in Sacramento this weekend. I fly out tomorrow morning. I should be back by Monday though.” You nodded your head in response. She was always so busy, always had places to be. 

“I’m sorry for slamming the door earlier.” You said quietly, picking up a t-shirt on the bed and folding it over for her. 

Your aunt looked over at you, waiting to see if you’d continue. 

“I’m okay. I just-” You paused, trying to find the right words. The entire thing wasn’t really worth getting into or being upset about, as you thought about it.

Irina’s eyebrow raised. “Boy troubles?” She said half-jokingly.

You smiled then, handing her the folded shirt. Yes, to put it plainly, just boy troubles.

“You know what I think about men,” Irina began.

“Better off without them.” You answered in unison, laughing with one another. 

You stopped in the doorway, hand wrapped around the frame as you left Irina’s bedroom. “Oh, by the way, I’m having a few people over in a couple of hours to work on a project for school. If that’s okay, of course.” 

Irina peered over her shoulder, a wide grin on her face. “Of course. Let me know if you kids need anything.” 

It was hard to keep your nerves in check as the next few hours passed by. It would be fine, you reminded yourself over and over again. It wasn’t going to just be you and Charlie. Robbie would serve as a much needed buffer. 

You heard your phone buzz on your nightstand; you picked it up quickly, reading the message aloud. “Pulling up now.” You quickly made your way down the stairs, kicking a pair of your shoes further down the entryway.

You swung the front door open without recalling whether you had heard a knock yet. You were met by Robbie and Charlie on the front porch. Charlie’s head was towards the ground, his hands in his pocket. Robbie looked around himself, mouth agape. 

“You were totally right dude,” Robbie said, elbowing his friend in the side. “This was her house.” 

“What?” You asked from the doorway, not sure you had heard him right. Robbie looked flustered, as if he were surprised to see you standing there. 

“Oh. I meant Charlie recognized you on the first day.” Robbie tried to clear the confusion by simply adding to it. You looked between the pair. Robbie immediately cowered in response to Charlie’s shocked glare. 

You waited for Robbie to continue. You couldn’t possibly understand what he meant by that. To your knowledge, you had never met either of them before that first day of school. 

“Charlie’d make me ride circles down your street for hours. He said you had to be the same girl we saw when we were kids. We totally thought you just died one day after you stopped appearing in the window every summer.” Robbie said laughing, pointing at the sun bay window. 

You were frozen in place; the air seemed to be sucked out around you as you thought hard back on those memories. Certain things suddenly started to click and piece themselves together in your mind. You glanced over at Charlie. He was looking at you almost pathetically, knowing there was nothing he could have done to stop Robbie from spilling any of that information. 

Robbie began a string of ‘I’s and Um’s’ as he noticed your expression. You willed yourself to pull it together for a moment; lesson the deafening, horrible ringing in your ears.

“Oh, I think I remember you two, actually.” You stated. You had always had a distinct memory that fell in line with Robbie’s sentiment. You weren’t sure you’d have ever been able to place them both in that memory without Robbie’s over-share. You’d let yourself process this information at a later time. You watched as both boys relaxed a bit more into themselves, awkward glances still passed between the three of you.

“Would you guys like to come in?” You stepped aside, motioning towards the entryway. 

“Please.” Robbie replied and stepped past you. 

Charlie nodded, following behind him. You caught and held his gaze for a moment as he slipped in so close beside you. 

“We can just hang out in the living room, if that’s cool.” You said, motioning towards the living room couch. The two men followed suit. You took a seat on the sofa, Robbie sat on the opposite end, while Charlie took a seat on the floor by the coffee table in front of you. 

It was quiet for a moment as everyone pulled out their laptops, notebooks, and pens. You weren’t sure who would be the first one to break the silence. To be completely honest, you didn’t mind it. You were terrified that Robbie would somehow dig himself another hole, and you had absolutely nothing to say to Charlie. You hoped you’d be able to just get the majority of the project finished tonight so that the remaining meetings would be minimal. 

Just then, you heard your aunt’s light footsteps coming from down the stairs. You sighed a heavy sigh of relief as she entered the living room. She wore a bright smile on her face as the boys rose to their feet to greet her. 

“Robbie Mercer.” He held out a hand to her. “Good to meet you, Robbie.” She replied in her usual sing-song voice.

Her smile faltered for a moment as she turned to shake Charlie’s hand as well. “Charlie Walker, thanks for allowing us over.” Charlie said, giving her a courteous smile. 

You looked between your aunt and Charlie, watching the corner of her lips twitch into a small frown before she replied. She looked almost off kilter. You took careful notice of your aunt’s unusual etiquette. “Anytime, Charlie.” She replied, placing her left hand over their conjoined right hands. 

The gesture didn’t seem to phase Charlie much. 

“If there’s anything I can get for you all, please don’t be afraid to ask.” Irina spoke before heading back up the stairs. The three of you responded in a short chorus of ‘thank you’s.’ 

The next few hours went by as well as you could have hoped for them to go. Once you were all busy at work, the awkwardness slowly dispelled itself. It was nearly midnight, and you were all beginning to experience the early stages of screen fatigue from your work. You all mutually decided to try to wrap everything up tomorrow. 

As you led the two out, Robbie spoke over his shoulder. “I honestly think it’ll only take another day to finish this. Maybe one more after that for revision.” You and Charlie both nodded. “But, honestly, if I have looked at another fucking punnet square after this project, I think I’ll kill myself.” 

You laughed as you turned the door handle. 

The boys filed onto the porch. Robbie was quick to make his way towards his car that was parked halfway in the driveway and halfway onto the street. He stopped after realizing Charlie was still standing on the porch. You glanced between the pair.

“You coming man?” Robbie asked, fishing for his keys in his back pocket.

You watched Charlie, waiting for his response. 

“Nah, I feel like walking.” He responded. 

Robbie cocked an eyebrow, looking at his friend. He seemed slightly surprised, but didn’t bother trying to convince him to come along. 

“Alright, I’ll see you two tomorrow.” Robbie said, as he opened his driver’s side door. You watched him pull all the way down the street before turning around to face the closed front door. Your hand had just started turning the handle when you heard Charlie speak up.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” You turned your face, dropping the handle. 

You really had almost no interest in anything he had to say at all, at this point. 

“Make it quick.” You replied, stepping in front of him. Your words clearly hurt him, and he did little to hide his grimace. 

“Look, I’m sorry.” He started softly, eyes flickering between your own. You sucked in your bottom lip, leaning on your hip as you crossed your arms in front of you. You scanned his face in search of sincerity. 

“It’s fine, Charlie. It’s done with.” You replied.

He took a step closer to you. You fought the urge to take another back, to keep just a bit more distance from him. You held your ground.

“No, I’m being serious. It was horrible for me to just assume…” his voice trailed off for a moment. He glanced behind you at the window bay to your left. He met your eyes again. “And the whole attention thing. I never really felt that way. Regretted it as soon as I said it.” His hand flexed at his side as he shook his head. 

“Okay.” You replied breathlessly. It was all you wanted him to say. You both stood there for a moment. The sound of crickets filled the air. There always seemed to be something filling in the lapse of conversation you had with Charlie, in a way you had never noticed with anyone else before. 

You were the one to speak up. “I can give you a ride home if you’d like.” 

A small smile crept up his lips as he followed your gesture towards your car parked in the driveway. 

“It’s alright. Thank you for the offer. I just live on the next street over.” He motioned towards the road. 

“It’s really not any trouble…” you began. You weren’t sure why you felt such a need to insist. 

He reached up then. His thumb ran across the small braid in your hair that had been forgotten about and left to slowly unravel since last period. You left out a breath of surprise at the sudden contact. He was so incredibly close. That pounding in your heart returned rapidly as your hands dropped to your side. 

Your eyes darted wildly across the features of his face. His eyes were stuck on those strands of hair between his fingers. 

There were no more crickets, no rushing blood, just silence. 

He had pulled away before you could process the proximity. He was headed down the front porch steps in a matter of seconds. “Goodnight, I’ll see you here tomorrow.” He called, turning over his shoulder to say goodbye. 

You refused to let yourself watch him make his way down the street. Your feet carried you mindlessly up the stairs until collapsing you onto your bed. You stared up at the ceiling, reaching for the disheveled braid. Your fingers traced themselves along the same spot he had. You had just about pulled the braid apart when your aunt called your name from the doorway. 

You shot up in bed to face her, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“Didn’t mean to surprise you,” Irina began. Her face was splotchy and red in ways that it never was. “I just wanted to tell you goodbye, in case I didn’t get the chance to before I left in the morning.”

You nodded in response. You rose onto your feet, walking over to give her a hug. You pulled away as she began to speak up again. “He looks so much like him.” Irina seemed to say more to herself than you. 

“Hmm?” You urged her to explain what she meant. 

“The Walker boy. He looks so much like his father had at that age.” She began trailing off, looking at the wall behind you before meeting your eyes again.

“You knew his father?” You asked. This shouldn’t have been surprising information to you, Irina seemed to know everybody who had spent any amount of considerable time in Woodsboro. 

Irina nodded. 

“Just be kind to him, if you can be.” She said so softly, you barely caught her last words. This took you aback. You were sure your confusion was apparent on your face. “It’s only been a few years since he passed. I’m sure it’s been difficult for Charlie.”

Her amending statement made your heart sink low into your chest. A resounding buzz quickly filled the space between your ears. 

“I am.” You replied. You thought you were, at least. 

Irina nodded, seemingly satisfied with your response. She turned to make her way to her own bedroom at the end of the hall. Just before she disappeared through the door, you called out to her.

“How? How did he die?” You asked. You immediately felt bad for even asking. It wasn’t necessarily anything you needed to know. 

You could tell, even from where you stood, that your aunt’s eyes began to well with tears. “Suicide,” she whispered without looking back at you. It only took a single moment before Irina stepped into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. 

You weren’t sure how long you stood stuck in the hallway. It was a horribly long night. 

[herefortheships]

What is your opinion on the Beetlejuice 2 Dream Theory?

My short answer is that it's plausible, but not likely that that's what the writers or Tim intended. That said, every viewer is entitled to their own interpretation. When a piece of media leaves the author's hands, then it doesn't belong exclusively to the author anymore; the story takes on a new form when it falls in the hands of the audience ("the death of the author is the birth of the reader" etc).

I'd have to rewatch the movie with my brain prepared to point out references that may show that everything we're witnessing as the movie plays out is not real.

As for my personal interpretation, I don't think that's the case. There was indeed a dream sequence at the end though; we have to decide, when does the dream start? Was it when Betelgeuse and Lydia were dancing in midair? (Betelgeuse does break the 4th wall to tell the audience "I love a good dream sequence", so that's possible). Or was it later after Lydia says her goodbye to Delia? I've only watched the movie once so far, so my thoughts may change when I rewatch it, but for now, this is where I think the dream starts:

I think the dream started with Lydia quitting her show. She may not have quit it at all, as a matter of fact, but her dream started with this because she's now hoping for a fresh start and quitting her show is part of what she has identified as her ideal life, going forward. She's dreaming about a perfect life, believing herself rid of Betelgeuse and Rory and her past, and starting fresh with Astrid, focused on being her mother and being there for her this time. Astrid and Lydia only have each other now after the loss of Delia and Charles, as far as family goes. All of that from that moment on is the dream. In truth, she isn't rid of Betelgeuse, and she is pretty isolated now. So she is shaken awake by the nightmare (I already made a detailed post about that, so I won't go into detail about the dream and what I think it means here). I think the dream ends when she hears/feels Betelgeuse in bed with her. Betelgeuse isn't gone and he's still very much in love with her, which may not be a very comforting thought to her just yet lol.

Now as I'm writing this, as a matter of fact, her little jumpscare when feeling Betelgeuse in bed with her might have a double meaning. Why was she dreaming about him being in bed with her? To be honest, when I first saw that in the theater I thought the wedding had gone through, since they were sharing a bed now! Lydia may be beginning to realize her feelings about Betel have changed, which understandably scares her right now. Then she wakes up again and he's gone. There is a question here, was he part of the dream or was he truly in bed with Lydia? Maybe he was there after all (which is what I personally believe).

Anyway, I am beginning to ramble, but Tl;Dr: There was a dream, but it starts when Lydia quits her job (or maybe after she quits, when she and Astrid are in vacation together).

Again, if it's the same theory I read (which I totally love and find super intriguing), it does make good points, so in short I would say it's plausible. Today I read a post about how the name "Richard" repeats in the movie in several instances, which may add to the "none of this is real, it's all a dream" theory. But to be honest, for me at least, there is more reason to believe that what we witnessed in the film did happen, and Astrid, Rory, Richard, etc are all real and part of Lydia's life.

That Lydia isn't married to Betel by the end of this film doesn't mean her feelings about him will remain as they are and that she will never accept him or even love him, though. This movie was SO a setup for a third film and I am sure of that. It was left open ended so in the event it didn't land well, the franchise could be set to rest with this sequel which was mostly a passion project for those involved, but now we know the movie was a massive hit, so it's very likely and I have no doubt we will get a final third part. There is a LOT of "the rule of three" around Betelgeuse, starting with the fact that you need to say his name three times to summon him. "Third time's a charm", you know what I mean? So I believe the final movie will see them married (yep, not just together or just friends, but married). Marriage is a very important theme in Beetlejuice, both for the series and the titular character himself, so that wedding will happen and it will go through next time, for better or worse (and I hope for better!) Again, rule of three applies here. I think the story is prime for either a soulmate story, or a tragic "true love will set you free" kind of story in which Lydia has to marry Betelgeuse in order to free his soul so he can move on (it was pointed out to me that this resembles the story of Corpse Bride, which is also a movie directed by Tim Burton). If he goes with the latter, then that doesn't mean Lydia won't love him and will just marry him to free him (as in she’s his true love but she doesn’t love him back romantically); she may still fall in love with him, but will find a way to break his attachment/curse to set his soul free and "let him go" for now (it could go either way tbh 😭), and they can still find each other in the afterlife. And wouldn't that be nice? If the two of them can move on to a better place in the great beyond in the finale? To spend eternity together in peace.

Anyway, rambling again! This is my answer. Sorry for replying a little late (and "yapping" so much lol), but trust me I was thinking about this question all day.

[championari]

Alright. I said I would write this and I’m gonna stay true to my word.

I’ve been seeing a lot of takes since The Giggle has come out questioning the potency of 14’s ending. People have been citing multiple different times during the reboot era where the Doctor has “settled down” somewhere, from Darillium, the university in S10, to even Trenzalore. However, I think all of these comparisons are apples to oranges, completely missing the details of each instance and how The Giggle’s ending rebukes all of them. 

So, because I cannot leave an inaccurate take alone, I’m going through every single one of these instances and explain why 14’s ending is different from them, in chronological order.

I’m gonna start with a weird one: S7EP4, The Power of Three. Because it provides a good example of all the things we’re going to be talking about. 

Prior to this episode, long time fans already had a good idea that the Doctor…does not do well in monotonous environments, a truth that is consistent across multiple incarnations.

“I don’t do families.”

“Street corner, two in the morning, getting a taxi home. I’ve never had a life like that.”

“Here you are, Living a life, day after day. The one adventure I could never have.”

“Christmas dinner.” “I don’t do that sort of thing.”

“Oh god I had a terrible nightmare about you two!” [Talking about Amy and Rory having a normal life in Leadworth]

The entirety of The Lodger

“There’s a bigger, scarier adventure waiting for you in there.”

The Power of Three, spells this truth out in bold, montage style marker pen. The Doctor “needs to be busy”. Why, as Amy later asks?

Personally I think this answer varies slightly between regenerations, based on experiences and losses each face goes through. 9 couldn’t imagine a life of peace coming out of a war, a war that he had a major hand in. 10 continues that idea, with the added baggage of losing Rose. 11’s reasoning is a bit subtler: he says to Amy that he is running to things before they go, as if he now understands how short beautiful things last. He’s going from one thing to the next in avoidance of staying to watch things die. 

“And what’s the alternative? Me standing over your grave?”

This doesn’t change by the end of the episode. The Doctor explicitly tells the Ponds that he’s only staying to watch the cubes, and once the threat is gone, he’s already out the door. He only stops because of a potential threat, an idea we will return to in the next example. He even accepts the idea of Amy and Rory wanting to stay behind: “things to do. Worlds to save. Swings to swing on. Look, I know. You both have lives here. beautiful, messy lives. That is what makes you so fabulously human. You don’t want to give them up. I understand.” The Doctor is saying, ‘I know you have lives here, and that I can’t always be a part of that. And that’s ok.’ 

This episode in my opinion is a perfect microcosm of The Doctor regarding this topic, spelling out explicitly why The Doctor can't ever settle down. The Doctor needs to have something to run to because they don't feel secure enough in any place to not allow their altruism outweigh their need to process their trauma. The only thing that could motivate the Doctor to stop, even just for a second, is the promise that their friend(s) will be there too. The next example is the worst-case scenario of this issue.

Trenzalore is an interesting case. When I first heard of it being counted, I immediately shut it down, because Trenzalore was a literal war zone (wars are obviously not a good place for mental health time). But in doing research, there is actually way more baggage contained in this period making it unsuitable for this argument than just that fact. 

Trenzalore was set up to be the Doctor’s final resting place, where they would truly die. It wasn’t the first time a death prophecy had surrounded the Time Lord, and once again, just as with The End of Time, the thing that kills them is, what Davros would later call The Doctor's “greatest indulgence”: compassion. Tasha Leem warns 11 that she will burn the planet upon the possibility of the Time Lords returning, a warning the Doctor takes extremely seriously.

“This planet is protected.”

“Christmas has a new sheriff.”

For 300 years, 11 stayed true to his word. He fought long and hard, for the townspeople and his own. He was celebrated and was loved. But Clara returning with the TARDIS revealed how he really felt about all of it. 

“Everyone gets stuck somewhere eventually.”

“But you didn’t have your TARDIS.” “Well, that made it easier to stay.” 

There’s an unspoken sentiment in these words, echoing 11's philosophy in Power of Three: the Doctor will always want to leave, in this case, to understandably avoid his prophesied death. But he doesn’t, because “Every life I save is a victory”. Their compulsion to help, their innate capacity to help those in need. So often it’s been their greatest strength, but here it’s framed as destructive selflessness. 11 has become so wholly committed to helping others before himself that he’s willing to accept his own death. 

Clara correctly calls this out: “What about your life? Just for once, After all this time, have you not earned the right to think about that?” The Doctor didn’t stay on Trenzalore for himself, he stayed for everyone besides himself. It’s only because Clara gave the Time Lords a proper verbal smackdown that the Doctor managed to survive. Had they not intervened, The Doctor would've suffered and died, once again to protect them, despite already saving them from annihilation in the previous episode, Day of The Doctor. Trenzalore wasn't The Doctor stopping, it was a century-long effort to keep satiating the bottomless survivor's guilt they still carried from The Time War.

Darillium is yet another case of looking like a time the Doctor settled down somewhere on the surface. But the details don’t match that conclusion. The entire thesis of 12 and River’s final conversation was about the fleeting nature of their situation. 

“Times end, River, because they have to. Because there’s no such thing as happily ever after. It’s just a lie we tell ourselves because the truth is so hard.”

The Doctor says this, cries at hearing the Singing Towers, despite already knowing they have 24 years in a night. Because he knows it can’t last. There’s already a deadline on their moment of peace before it’s begun. Eventually River must go to The Library. 

The final quote of the episode punctuates this: “And they lived happily ever after.” Fading away until “happily” remains. Because they didn’t have their “ever after” and they didn’t “live”, because a person can’t entirely experience life to the fullest with a clock hanging over their head. 

While they got their moment of happiness, it was only a moment. 24 years is just a blink of an eye for a Time Lord, and sure enough, we see by the end of “The Return of Doctor Mysterio”, the next chronological episode, 12 is ready to leap back into the fray. Still the same overall Doctor he was before.

The University is an extension of this. We find out that the only reason he has stayed is to guard Missy in the vault. When 12 tries to mindwipe Bill (an eerie parallel to both Donna and Clara), he directly says: “I have no choice, I’m in disguise. I have promises to keep.” Just like with Trenzalore, The Doctor’s altruism has trapped him somewhere he doesn’t actually want to be. The second he hesitates, he immediately runs after Bill, inviting her into the TARDIS and sneaks off to the universe behind Nardole’s back.

So, now that we’ve gone through each past instance, what’s the connection? What’s the key issue(s) that prevented the Doctor from permanently stopping in any of these cases?

The (fear of) loss of their friends, and the Doctor’s own self-loathing. Either out of fear of the march of time, or the chains that their altruistic nature binds them to, The Doctor always runs away from the picket fence life.

Now, let’s look at 14 and how this ending departs from all other examples.

Wild Blue Yonder and The Giggle more prominently explains 14’s origins as a coping mechanism. The reason why 10’s face came back was to retreat to an incarnation that didn’t invoke the loss of The Ponds, Clara, and Bill. The second destruction of Gallifrey and the reveal of The Timeless Child. The Doctor’s avoidance of their trauma has now been made physical, just like how mental stress can often manifest as physical changes or ailments. 

“We stand here now, on the edge of creation, a creation that I devastated, so yes I keep running, of course I keep running!! How am I supposed to look back on that?!”

Already this is a departure from the instances we’ve discussed, because by the very nature of having 10’s face again, it’s forcing the Doctor to ask why. 

“It’s like I'm trying to tell myself something. Like I’m trying to make a point.”

But 14 chooses not to answer it, because answering it means accepting the truth: it’s too much. The trauma can’t be avoided anymore, because The Doctor would always be reminded of what they’re trying to avoid by looking in a reflection. 14 telling Shirley, “I don’t know who I am anymore.” Then asking Donna, “what am I? What am I now?” It’s not because he’s been given a blank slate and doesn’t know what to do with it, like other regeneration stories. In trying to run away again, to bury the trauma and pain, The Doctor has made it more visible than ever, and doesn’t know what to do with that. 

Ironically, the Toymaker causing the bi-generation was the greatest gift he could’ve given the Doctor, because 15 was exactly who 14 needed to see. He’s happy, energetic, full of life and wonder, but also empathetic, understanding and open. He’s the only other person in the entire universe who The Doctor will listen to (well, one person, we’ll get to the other later), because he knows all of the trauma they went through, and yet, made it through ok.

“But you’re fine.”

“I’m fine, because you fix yourself.”

15 is leading by example, their own ‘ghost of Christmas future’ but positive. 14 now has an ideal self to strive towards, a face born from love and empathy. 14 doesn’t have to ground herself out of moral obligation, 15 will now protect the universe. 

But that leaves one question: why Donna? Out of all of the people to settle down with, why her? That’s easy: because she gets it. 

Donna, out of all of the companions the Doctor traveled with, understood the soul behind the legend, because she recognized someone fundamentally similar to herself. One of Donna’s signature character flaws is her horrendously low self esteem: “I’m nothing special.” no one ever listened to her (thanks Sylvia, for at least cleaning up your act later), so she covered up the silence with noise. She held onto whatever indisputable moments of genius she had to drown out the cacophony of voices shutting her up. Wild Blue Yonder explained this perfectly: Donna believes she is both brilliant and stupid at the same time. 

She lives in two contradictory self images at once, and so does The Doctor. The genius and the idiot. The universe’s most fascinating person, and the person who would easily throw away their life for the betterment of others. She’s seen their blinding arrogance/rage (the Racnoss, Jenny) and their crippling self doubt/loneliness, and always met both with empathy and kindness. 

“Doctor! You can stop now!”

“Cause sometimes I think you need someone to stop you.” 

“It won’t stay like that. She’ll help you. We both will.” 

“Is ‘alright’ special Time Lord code for ‘really not alright’ at all?” “Why?” “Cause I’m alright too.”

Donna shouldered the burden of destroying Pompeii, she silently hugged 10 after coming back from Midnight. All because she knew what all of that would feel like in her own life. She didn’t need to know the history of The Doctor and Davros, because she saw her best friend afraid and knew he would want comfort, because she would too.

Even if Dalek Caan manipulated the timelines to get Donna to him, That friendship was completely real to both of them. We saw what Donna was like without the Doctor in Forest of the Dead and Turn Left, and she always felt some level of unhappiness. 15 years removed from them and she still felt as if something was missing. In every future/reality, she always wanted them there. Same for the Doctor too. Within only a few episodes of losing her, 10 started to fall into becoming the “time lord victorious”. 12 looks the way he does because of Donna’s plea to adhere to his name, and save people. Even before 14 came into existence, the Doctor was willing to tell other people how important she was to them, on account of River recognizing Donna by her name: “you’re Donna, Donna Noble.”

Donna didn’t just travel with the Doctor and she wasn’t just friends with them. She completely understood them, their soulmate. Two halves of a greater whole, The DoctorDonna. 14 stayed because there was a more stable incarnation to take his place, and because his best friend would be there alongside him, helping and supporting him through and through. The Doctor stayed because, for the first time in their life, they felt safe. In where they would be staying, and what they would be leaving behind. 

That's why 15 doubling the TARDIS was so significant. In giving 14 her own TARDIS, 15 is allowing his younger self to have what they always removed from the equation: free will. The Doctor can still go anywhere they want, which makes them even more motivated to stay and fix themself. 14 can feel safe staying with Donna, Wilf, Mel, Rose, Shaun, and Sylvia because the option to travel is still there.

And the truly amazing part of all of this is that the TARDIS knew it from the beginning. Was it a coincidence that very soon after 13 regenerated into 14, the TARDIS landed close to where Donna and Rose would be shopping? 

“You didn’t always take me where I wanted to go.” “No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

The TARDIS brought the Doctor home, and this time, they stayed. Because it was a place where they wanted and needed to be. 

[kirsicca]

The camp curse continues with Rori getting the bee poisoning 🐝

Frankie is trying to frank (pun intended) with his feelings and so far it has gone well!

•───────•°•❀•°•───────• Our backpackers: our main guy Frankie Shirey by yours truly Jamie Carpenter by @thebramblewood Roberta Rivera by @lonvely Miranda Chen by @foxsimthings Marcella Vinca by @jonquilyst Asher Reid by @plumbobpaparazzi Uriah Fox by @foxsimthings Katie Hale by @oatberrytea and our tour guide Ralena Ziegler by @kaepy

[8unknowndoee]

!!!!!!! MAGNUS PROTOCOL SEASON 1 EPILOGUE SPOILERS !!!!!!!!!

So, I want to scream. Forever- preferably into the black hole / universal brain altering horrific beauty that is the reality wound.

The next few paragraphs should be proceeded with caution- I might have actually gone insane while writing this and you can tell by the strange paste and everything as it slowly goes down and drowns with other t.v. show references because my mind was racing.

So, I guess don't read if you don't want random unimportant references to Gravity Falls, Teen Wolf and My Babysitter's a Vampire.

Okay, first off. I both live in fear and excitement for the OIAR under Gwen's leadership because she is clueless. She is in the same position of power as Elias as in Archives but the exact opposite on everything else. She has no clue of the horrors that are truly around her, the few externals she has met is nothing in comparison to what Lena must know- to what Elias knew. Unlike Elias, Bastard of the Eye, his eyes are wide open to everything.

Gwen? Gwen has her eyes shut closed tightly and those few moments with the externals she spent was just her squinting at the bright light of horror that the actual world she lives in is. She doesn't even know what to do now that she is appointed Lena's position, she's just waiting there, tapping her nails away on her desk. She doesn't have a clue on what to do. She might have honestly aimed for a position of power she had no clue about, she just wanted the position and maybe the power that came with it within the OIAR without clearly seeming to think through what Lena might have been doing behind closed doors.

She's floundering and maybe if things had been alright, she could have learned slowly- if not in its own spectacularly horrible way but now? Now? Now is actual hell, Sam and the Archivist, in their eyes, presumably died. Colin is most likely dead inside their own work room's servers. The only one who may have had some sort of clue was fired and gone, leaving someone who has their eyes shut leading it all and we still don't know what Teddy might bring to the table.

Also, about the Colin ending, he might actually be dead or that ending became the most fucked version of Soos crawling into the arcade game machine in the world- it'll be that episode of My Babysitter's a Vampire where Rory was taken over by the sentient tree's crossbreed roots of electronic and plant life except it's all in one server machine rather then a school's computer room and crossbreed of him rather then plant life. Which is horrifying if he's still aware.

Which, Hello?

Did the Freddie Program do this separate to the three voices within it, just a machine that has been corrupted in a way similar to the tape recorder being able to bite? Did Jon? Martin? Jonah? Some fucked sense mix of the three's consciousness trying to move things along? Will Jon, who has been shown to place his hands into things via emails and specifically placed statements, send Gwen emails as a way to guide her into doing what he wants, guide Alice or Celia into something else?

In a fucked up sense will Jon become the Eye to this group of people, except more hands on? Will he be something similar to the Web and the Eye in the way where he isn't just watching as the Eye had but also playing a part in it well enough to pull strings along?

Is Jon building his own web of manipulations and schemes in this world, to become a later antagonist? Are the other two aware of this?Is Jon aware of this? I might actually go insane with how many random thoughts my brain is just coming up with as I write this.

Colin- Colin. My bastard, I'm in pain because we saw so little of him, less than Sasha which is why I'm leaving that horrified ending scream not as a 'he's dead!' and more of an horrifying open-ending of Colin pulling a Corey being part of the train stations's electrical manufacturing in Teen Wolf- like, it would be horrifying if he's alive let alone aware of everything that is happening but anything to make the problems here even larger. Colin fighting Jon literally from the inside.

Finally, the smallest but biggest thing of the whole Epilogue, Sam. He's alive! Hadn't doubted that because main character but what of the Archivist- what of the world they landed in? Is it our post-apocalypse world of Magnus Archives or new, crueler/kinder world? The tape recorder is there and we heard from it so we will hear from Sam still in this new world along with those in the OIAR within the computers, phones and lines.

I'm passing out now, the black hole / universal brain altering horrific beauty that is the reality wound has been screamed into.

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

How would you have written the story if Jesse wasn't in Love with Cole? Would they just be good friends? Would Cole still have a crush on Zane? Would have have shipped Cole with someone else or even Jesse with someone else? Would Jesse still have his character arc and be so close to the group? Would the others have other opinions on him?

idk this got long cuz my brain rot started showing:

How would you have written the story if Jesse wasn't in Love with Cole? Would they just be good friends? -

Legacy!Jesse, Royal!Jesse, Mermaid!Jesse, Cracked!Jesse: There is no universe in which I wouldn't love him!!!!!

DR!Jesse: Except the one in which the universe tries to force me not to (and fails)

Honestly though, I dunno how it would've gone! Technically, nothing major would change if Jesse was taken out—he's more of a situation enhancer than a situation changer (with some exceptions). The Crush Thing was the whole reason Jesse became, well, Jesse in the first place, as the Fuchsia Ninja was just going to be a joke character until the end of S2 otherwise, which would've meant no big surprise-element lore, no EM!Mystake, certainly no Miranda, far less focus on the student Council kids (meaning Antonia and Harumi wouldn't have gotten nearly as much spotlight), and we wouldn't have gotten the majority of the Elemental Compass info until season 3 when it was truly relevant.........

Half of the initial problem with wanting to incorporate more of the Fuchsia Ninja (for more movie!DNA in the story) is that I couldn't come up with a reason as to why this guy would even care what the 'actual' ninja were doing (as again, this was also prior to the completion of the Compass + making Surprise a full-on Element + the whole 'it's all gotta be a secret' thing). At one point he was going to be Lil Nelson's babysitter, but then that still didn't provide ample opportunity to, like, get him involved in anything.

And I (in a rare moment of weakness) don't even know how I'd depict a fully platonic Jesse and Cole lmaoooooooo it feels WRONG—

Cole, in art class: Psst, hey you, pink guy.

Jesse: ...yeah?

Cole: Can I borrow a pencil?

Jesse: Oh, yeah, sure. Here you go.

Cole: Cool, thanks. *puts on headphones and keeps drawing, never speaks to Jesse again*

Jesse: *thinking* ...I don't think I'm getting that pencil back. Oh well.

Cole: *thinking* What was that guy's name again? Jackson? Oh well.

...okay I could probably do better than that but I also can't conjure up a scenario that wouldn't inevitably end up in an 'oh' moment HELP

Would Cole still have a crush on Zane? - lol yes I wouldn't let go of my early!seasons Glacier love, you can pry Cole having a hopeless crush on Zane until mid-S3 (or early!S4) from my cold dead hands. But, Pixane would still be for the win.

Would you have shipped Cole with someone else or even Jesse with someone else? - Cole? Doubtful, especially now that DR is in the picture. Jesse? ...maybe? Aside from a brief thing with Skylor there's not really anyone else Jesse would have that sort of chemistry with—maybe post-S6 Sunni (which would piss Samantha off soooo bad lmfao), maybe a magician's assistant he gets down the line (who totally isn't a cute girl named Rory), maybe he just waits until adulthood to find a boyfriend or he just never gets bitten by the romance bug in the first place and resigns himself to not wanting and/or needing that kind of relationship and then we never get Cam

Would Jesse still have his character arc and be so close to the group?- The Character arc, yeah, definitely, since I kind of significantly need him for S4 now, but it all would've been squashed into S3-S4 rather than..."gently" paced out since S1. I doooon't think he would've been as close with the group though, and probably would've been like most of the other Derivatives and just tried to keep his nose down in the wake of all the chaos with The Order and whatnot (because if he's not nearly as involved in all the Elemental drama then there's no reason for Miranda's character to be a thing either, and that's even more personal motivation hacked away from him–)

Would the others have other opinions on him?-

Lloyd: He's interesting, wish I had more time to get to know him better. I never had time to ask though ;w;

Nya: He's a very hard worker in the student council! Dunno a thing of what he's like outside of school—He could be a killer for all we know.

Zane: I do not like his unpredictability. It unsettles me. How does he keep popping up without being detected?!

Jay: ...wait, who?

Kai: Nah, fuck that guy

Lloyd: ...Kai that's your opinion now-

Kai: Yeah but in this theoretical scenario I'd actually mean it

Jesse: I'm not even safe in an alternate reality e-e

Miranda: Imagine not falling in love with a boy leading to the existence of your own sister being deemed unnecessary. I'M the one truly suffering!

Cole: ...Wait what was that about falling in love with a boy–?

Jesse: NOTHING

Miranda: ...and with that attitude we might as well be in that non-romantic reality now

Jesse: AUGHHHH

[anxiouspotatorants]

I found a new thing in Gilmore Girls that would be so much better if Palladino and company had just had the guts to be more explicit about class on the show. And it’s Marty’s storyline.

So I’m one of those few people out there who really liked season 5! Marty, and even though I hate that he was written to crush on Rory I also think his confession scene and departure was well written (it was just ruined by season 7 hindsight). The thing is, I’m fully convinced that you could’ve had a big conflict between Rory and Marty that would cause a rift so big he wouldn’t come back for a full season without that conflict being Marty’s feelings for Rory. And you see what it could be in the same episode as Marty confesses. 

It’s the Life and Death Brigade.

So hear me out. In LDBs introductory episode we are not just introduced to the main trio (Logan, Finn and Colin) as womanizers and pranksters, but as people who pick on Marty because he has worked in their functions. Logan even explicitly states that he thinks he’s better than Marty, and it’s implied (if I’m remembering right) that he thinks so because he’s wealthier and has been in a position where he pays Marty. Then as we get to the confession episode, Marty gets dragged along to a dinner with the LDB gang where they frivolously spend money and then mock Marty for struggling to pay for things he didn’t even want to purchase. The LDB gang - Logan included - is shown multiple times to look down on Marty for his lack of wealth. Marty can’t socialize with these people because of that, but also because he literally cannot afford to spend time with them when all of their gatherings and events are money pits. But Rory’s dating one of them. To Marty, she’s actually dating the worst one. 

How do you think that would make Marty feel as her friend? 

He really doesn’t have to be into Rory or in love with her, his close friend dating one of his bullies is more than reason enough to cause a rift between Marty and Rory. And the thing is, this conflict could’ve been an impactful addition to Rory’s thematic storyline if the writers had just gone for it. Rory is financially and socially stuck between worlds. She will never fit into Logan’s world because of her upbringing, but she will always have more access to that world and resources than someone like Marty. And Rory “chosing” Logan’s world in season 5 before she hits rock bottom, and then returning to her roots (her mom, studying, Lane and Paris) and standing up for herself against Emily can be seen as a step in her journey of coming to terms with never being able to truly choose one world. And then Marty could’ve come back, not as a bitter former crush, but as a hurt friend who sees the change Rory is going through, and might help her along as she continues on this journey. 

We could’ve had a great storyline about the highs and lows of a friendship that’s affected by class, and instead we got a half baked nice guy plot.

[hqmillioncorn]

Did someone say Happy Nameday?!

“Happy nameday Rori!!!” Babycorn popped out of the ground in front of Rori. After Rori finished screaming he was finally able to process what Babycorn had said to him. It was only just a little bit weird. By her standards. “It’s. Not my nameday??” Rori didn’t even remember ever mentioning his nameday around Babycorn.  “I just know it’s your nameday cause Cherry told me so!” Right next to Babycorn the smaller and younger Cherrypit popped out of the ground as well. “Bah!” He wisely said. Of course he actually had no idea when Rori’s nameday was. He had just read Rori’s mind and picked out a random day. “Here we got you a present!” Babycorn rumaged through Hungstal for a bit before finding what she was looking for. “Ah-HA! Tada!” She held up her present proudly, “The newest B’ig Nunh almanac! I got it just for you!” “...T Thanks.” 

ffxiv write day 24: bar

with @windupiceheart 's rorichaux

on a day like any other babycorn is going to talk to her good friend rori :)

Another year passed, and with it came another Valentiones Day. With the festivities in Gridiania coming to a close for the day. Though that didn’t mean that everyone was gone by now.

Rori let out a yawn. His shift was almost over and soon he would be free.

Free to do whatever it was that Roris did with the time they spent not working. Perhaps he would go on a jog or eat a delicious meal. Truly the possibilities were endless. Yes, it would just a few more minutes until-

Something made Rori pause, something was coming. 

Or more like someone. 

Because even from far away, he could hear the telltale cry of someone yelling out his name. Followed by the sounds of several tiny little steps that could only come from a lalafell wearing a pom on her head. Rori figured that this might as well happen. 

It had been almost an entire day since Babycorn had last visited him during his work hours. Either she was slacking or she had finally died. There was no inbetween or any other explanation for her absence. 

The approaching cloud of dust was enough for Rori to confirm that it was indeed Babycorn heading his way. “Yeah okay.” He grabbed onto a nearby post and braced himself for impact. Then as the cloud of dust got closer and closer, a strong breeze blew past Rori, almost blowing him into the air like the stick-bug he was. 

When the wind died down opened his eyes, looking down to see Babycorn grabbing onto his leg like she was about to fly away instead. Babycorn looked up to stare at Rori with her huge and shimmering bug-like yellow eyes. “Hi Mister Rori-Chow!!” 

“Hi Babycorn.” Rori greeted her. 

He extended his leg out and waited for Babycorn to let go. Once she did, she plopped onto the ground. Looking more like a rag doll that had fallen off the shelf. “It’s Ro-ri-Show.” Rori explained for the hundredth time now. He hoped that breaking it down into sections would help Babycorn get his name right. His first mistake was to hope that Babycorn do anything right. 

“Okay Mister Rori!” Babycorn saluted him. 

Rori sighed, the first of many to come. 

Babycorn bounced back a step and placed her hands behind her back. She was wearing a strange outfit Rori had never seen on her. The big poofy skirt she was wearing sort of made her look like a giant cupcake. Complete with sprinkles. From what Rori knew of Babycorn he wagered that those were real sprinkles. 

There was also a massive candle on her head. Thankfully it wasn’t on fire. 

“Mister Rori! I have a surprise for you~!” Babycorn threateningly sang out loud. She didn’t mean for it to sound like a threat. It just sort of happened whenever Babycorn told people she had a surprise for them. “It’s right behind my back~” 

“Y-Yeah. Sure. Alright.” 

There was absolutely nothing to be afraid of. 

Unless this ‘surprise’ took eleven hours for Babycorn to explain like the last one had. 

Babycorn did a cute little twirl and extended her hand out to Rori. “I wanna invite you to my nameday party!!” That sounded normal enough.

At least, it was normal. Until Rori looked down to see what Babycorn was handing him.

Babycorn’s left hand was stuck inside of a glass jar. 

“Um.” Rori truly was at a loss for words. Which is why he just continued to stare at the jar around Babycorn’s hand and at Babycorn’s rapidly blinking face for the next few seconds. “What’s that you got there?” Rori finally worked up the courage to ask. 

Babycorn wasn’t sure what Rori was talking about. Pretty evident considering the confused smile she was giving him. “Hmm? What? Where?” She turned around in a spin, looking for something that was on her. Like an excited dog chasing its own tail. 

It was kind of cute. “I’m talking about the jar on your hand.” It reminded Rori of the time Babycorn stuck her hand inside of an anthill. Only pulling it out when he told her she could. Then Rori had to take a two hour bath to get all the ants out of his hair after 

“Oh this?” Babycorn wiggled her hand around. There was a simple explanation to this actually. “I was eating berries and I thought there were none left but I saw there was one more and put my hand inside to grab it!” She brought the jar closer to her and bit it for a while before giving up. 

Previous teeth marks showed that she had tried this before. “I also got the invitation to my party inside! See? See? I’m holding it!”  Babycorn held her hand up as high as she could for Rori to see.

Rori looked as close as he could. The jar looked pretty empty, aside from the obvious. True to Babycorn’s word her hand was wrapped around a now pretty crumpled piece of paper. That must have been the elusive nameday party invitation.

Even so this was far from the weirdest thing Babycorn had done.  As far as he knew. And yet, Rori still had to ask. “Why did you put your hand back in to eat berries with the invitation in your hand?” 

“Uhhhhhhhhh…” It seemed Babycorn didn’t have an answer. 

Not to mention that the jar looked pretty empty. There were berries in there bouncing alongside Babycorn’s hand and the invitation. “Were there actually any berries left in there?”

“There were!” This time Babycorn was quick to answer, “I ate em’ and then I put my hand back in the jar.”

“...Why?”

“I forgot it was empty!!”

“...” Rori had no idea what he was supposed to say next. There was a part of him that truly wondered how Babycorn had managed to stay alive this long. Was it luck? Was it fate? Was it some inexplicable third thing? 

Whatever it really was–Rori was glad that Babycorn always bounced back. Even if it came at the cost of several hours of hearing her yapping about some neat rock she found yesterday under a moldy piece of bread that she later ate and saved half of it for Rori.

“Wait-!” Babycorn suddenly exclaimed, “I know how to get this off me!” 

“How?” Rori asked genuinely wondering what sort of method Babycorn was going to come up with. Maybe something like licking it off? That sounded plausible. Though she could have never guessed what was going to happen next.

Without a moment's hesitation–Babycorn slammed the jar into the ground. It smashed into teeny tiny little glass shards. “Yay! My hands out!” Babycorn let out a cheer and waved her hand around. Weirdly enough it was kind of hurting but surely that would go away on its own eventually.

Rori stood frozen, mouth hanging wide open. “a,” That was the only thing he could manage to say. At least until he said the next thing, “You’re-uh bleeding. Um we should probably….” Probably go get that fixed or something. That was the smart move. Right. What the heck.

Babycorn looked at Rori, confused. Until she looked down at her hand. “I guess I’m bleeding now!” She said with a grin on her face. Bleeding suddenly from her body wasn't something Babycorn was unfamiliar with. 

This was the same girl who had an eternally bleeding scar on her body since childhood. 

“Uhhhhhh. Let’s just get some bandages for that.” 

Rori led Babycorn to the first-aid station they luckily had on hand. Turns out there were many accidents that happened to be related to Valentiones day. Babycorn walked behind Rori like a baby duck following her mom. As they neared their destination she suddenly remembered something! The very thing she was still holding in her hands.

“Mister Rori! Here! You can have my invitation now!” Babycorn held it up and waved it at Rori. Waiting excitedly for him to take it. “Here! Here! Here! Mister Rori! Mister Rori! Mister Rori!”

As ‘excited’ as Rori was to take a blood stained invitation he decided to tell Babycorn he would take it after tending to her hand. “I’ll go to your party. It’s not an invitation only party, right?”

“Nope!” Babycorn shook her head. “I think everyone should come to my twenty-seven nameday party! I made invitations so I could drop them from the sky all over everywhere!”

“That’s nice-”

Wait. Rori stopped dead in his tracks. Had Rori heard right? “...How old are you turning?”

“I’m turning twenty-seven!!” Babycorn winked and stuck her tongue out. Posing with her fingers pressed against her rosy freckled cheeks. 

Rori paused, taking in what he had just heard. 

“...You’re twenty-SEVEN?!” 

Babycorn was ONE YEAR YOUNGER THAN HIM?!?!?!

[my-emily-gilmore-era]

Gilmores prove life doesn’t end after 40

By Deseret News Feb 7, 2005

UNIVERSAL CITY, Calif. — There's a certain irony in the fact that the WB — the network that targets teens and twentysomethings — has the two most believable, most well-rounded characters in their 60s on television.

And Richard and Emily Gilmore, as portrayed by 61-year-old Edward Herrmann and 60-year-old Kelly Bishop, have been an integral part of "The Gilmore Girls" since the show began 100 episodes ago.

"I know the WB is known as a young network and viewed, I think, a little bit too much that way," Bishop said. "This show is multigenerational. And, frankly, it's not about my own ego, but I wouldn't be inclined to watch this show as a viewer if it weren't for us, because I'm going to identify with an older person. I'm not going to be watching shows about teenagers because I've been there, done that."

In a medium that places such a high value on youth, the elder Gilmores are such an anomaly they're almost alone.

Herrmann replied with humor to questions about his "elder" status. "Let me get out of my wheelchair and dance," he said, affecting a truly elderly voice.

"That's kind of wonderful, too, that we're still alive," Bishop said. "And, what, 60 is the new 30, right?"

Well, maybe, but Richard and Emily have never had to act like teenagers to get airtime on "Gilmore Girls." They're not simply saccharin grandparents, they're complicated people living imperfect lives.

"It's interesting. It's wonderful," Herrmann said. "I mean, these people are lively. You don't die after the age of 40."

The Emmy-winning actor said the show's writers have "done a wonderful job with Richard."

"He's a fellow who's gone through a number of changes. . . . There have been a lot of plot lines for him, which I find true to life. So I haven't been bored at all."

The premise of the show is that their daughter, Lorelai (Lauren Graham), got pregnant when she was 16 and decided to keep and raise the baby on her own. Which, not surprisingly, drove a wedge between her and her parents.

A wedge that remained until Lorelai's daughter, Rory (Alexis Bledel), was a teenager and Lorelai had to turn to her wealthy parents for financial help to send Rory to private school. That reopened the daughter-parents relationship and gave Richard and Emily their first chance to really get to know their granddaughter, but it's a rift that's never been entirely healed.

"What I look for at the end of the tunnel is the reconciliation between (Richard and Lorelai) in some way," Herrmann said. But when he has raised the issue with creator/executive producer Amy Sherman-Palladino, "She said, 'Not yet. We can't. There's a wonderful tension between the two that you want to try to maintain.'

"So it's great fun. And, actually, (executive producers) Amy (Sherman-Palladino) and Dan (Palladino) have given us really good stuff to do this year."

Good stuff that culminates Tuesday (7 p.m., Ch. 30) as Richard and Emily renew their wedding vows. The couple, married almost four decades, have been separated since last season. Not separated by much — Richard moved into the pool house — but their relationship had deteriorated badly.

"I love the idea because I think that those of you who are in long-term relationships will realize that you have, of course, that initial love/lust and all that," Bishop said, "and then it settles down. And then it kind of hits a point sometimes in a relationship where you're really bored with the other person and kind of think, hmmmm.

"And then out of no place and for no particular reason . . . you look at the person one day and you are so in love with them all over again."

It made for some great material for Bishop and Herrmann. Over the 99 previous episodes, they've done comedy, they've done drama, they've had surprises and they've always come across as real.

"The palette is rich. There's a lot of stuff to talk about," Herrmann said.

"I mean, almost to slapstick," Bishop said. "I finally got to do physical comedy climbing out of the basement window. (Richard accidentally locked Emily in.) That was so much fun."

And she loves playing a woman who's not exactly a caring, nurturing mother/grandmother. Emily Gilmore loves Lorelai and Rory, but she expresses that love in a manipulative way that drives her daughter crazy.

She's at it again in the 100th episode, using Rory's father, Christopher (David Sutcliffe), to try to end Lorelai's romance with Luke (Scott Patterson) — a relationship she doesn't approve of.

"I've gotten some really nice, vicious things to say to people," Bishop said, "which I always enjoy. . . . She's a piece of work, but, yeah, I had a lot of fun this year. Amy gave me some really nasty things to say."

Sherman-Palladino is amused at how Bishop — "one of the nicest people in the world" — takes so much joy in playing Emily, who is not. "I just love that she's so excited that she gets to be horrible to people."

But Bishop said she doesn't always understand viewers' reactions to the character.

"I'm surprised. People seem to really like her. And I haven't figured that out yet, because I think she's just horrible," she said. "I love playing her because she's so mean.

"And every once in a while people say they identify with her and I say, 'Why? I'm glad you're enjoying my performance, but you don't have to like Emily. Because I don't particularly like her. I like playing her.' "

[bessiemae]

Warning. I''m about to be critical of Rory Gilmore. Specifically about the affair with Dean.

First, lets get this out of the way. Dean is completely at fault for cheating on Lindsay. That goes without question. No one has ever tried to defend Dean in any way. However, people have defended Rory.

When the show first aired, the general justification was that Rory didn't take vows, so she had no obligation to respect Dean's marriage. I admit I was flabbergasted reading multiple posts like this. I mean, obviously people feel that way or no one would sleep with someone married. But, I always assumed it was a something only a small number of people sleeping with a married person truly believed. Others would tell themselves that to justify what they knew was wrong. And others outside the situation would all agree that hurting an innocent party is wrong. No certificate or vows necessary. But, it seemed people honestly felt Rory was completely in her right to sleep with Dean because she wasn't the married one.

Skip ahead to now. The reasoning isn't that Rory doesn't have to worry about Dean being married. It's that Rory had no idea that Dean was still married. That she thought it was over and he was free to be with her. I don't accept that. Did Dean imply that he and Lindsay were in agreement that the marriage was emotionally over (which is a different thing from being legally over)? Yes, so we can blame him for that. But, I don't think Rory really felt that meant Dean was no longer married. I mean, look at her argument with Lorelai. Yes, she says that it's over, but when Lorelai pushes, Rory doesn't answer that he told her that it was something that both he and Lindsay are on the same page. She admits they didn't discuss the details. Probably because neither one of them wanted to discuss it. And they had time. It's not like they were frantically tearing clothes off and moving so fast she couldn't catch her breath to ask a few probing questions. Like "So,you're getting divorced?" If she had asked and he had said yes, I'd be more inclined to say Rory was innocent in this. Also, take her other justifications. Lindsay isn't right for him. (implication, Rory is) That he's not a married guy. But, not because a divorce or even separation are in the works, but because "he's Dean. My Dean" which overrides his marriage. Again, we see this in her saying "he was my boyfriend first!" She slept with Dean because she felt her teenage relationship with him took precedence over his marriage.

Rory wanted to sleep with Dean. But, I don't think she could have done it and admit to herself that his marriage didn't matter to her. She wouldn't have gone to him or instigated anything, but since he came to her, well, he was her boyfriend first. But, she couldn't risk going any deeper with her questioning and keep her from hiding from herself the fact that she was sleeping with a married man .

Also, I have to step back and look at it from a writing perspective. They could have played it very differently. They could have had Rory tell Lorelai that Dean was leaving Lindsay. And when pressed she could have said that he said it was over so that must be what he meant. Or even just repeat him saying that both he and Lindsay felt that it was over. They could have played it as Lorelai being sympathetic and sad that Rory's first time came from being tricked. They could even still have their fight only this time it would be because Rory was mad at Lorelai for disparaging Dean's integrity. But, it's pretty clear that they were not writing a naive girl who had no idea of the situation.

[vladajwrites]

Razor’s Edge

Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six

Summary; Reader moves to Woodsboro for her senior year of high school. This story take place in the setting of the Scream 4 movie. This story is dedicated to all of the girls living through the current Rory Culkin revival. I love and see you. <3

Also available to be read on AO3 here

It's imperative for me to mention MAJOR trigger warnings for this story; blood, violence, sexual content, alcohol usage, and mentions of abusive situations and suicide. I will add and edit tw's as needed.

WC; 5830

Notes; this chapter has actually had my head spinning lol

again, truly thank you for reading! much much love <3

(Not Beta Read)

You spent the remainder of the school day restlessly waiting to see Charlie again. The more you thought of it, the idea of him orchestrating that night with you, the more you warmed up to the idea.

It was an interesting and covertly complex tactic, definitely, but you were thankful he actually made a move. He clearly was not the type to just outwardly express his feelings and emotional intentions. The lying to you and Robbie, finishing up the project on his own; it should make you understandably unnerved, but it doesn’t. So, if this was what he needed to do to convey his feelings to you, you could learn to find it endearing.

You stopped Charlie in the hall on the way to film club after the last bell rang. His cheeks were tinted red as he met your eyes. 

“Charlie,” you began. 

“Look, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I shouldn’t have lied to you.” He tripped over his words. 

His expression showed his confusion as a small smile slipped up your lips. You loved how nervous he still was around you.

You placed your arms over his shoulders. “I forgive you, but don’t you dare lie to me again, Charlie Walker.” You whispered right beside his ear. 

He cleared his throat, stumbling back a bit as you pulled away. “Yes, ma’am.” 

You laughed, sliding one of your arms through the gap between his elbow and stomach. 

“Ma’am? I am not my mother.” You teased him, pulling him down the hallway. 

He tensed a bit as your free hand came up to hold around his upper arm.

You both walked in silence for a moment. You could see from the corner of your eye that Charlie was anxiously looking up to meet the perplexed gaze of the students you passed by. You guess this was really the first time that you had shown any affection towards Charlie publically. 

You only held him tighter. You hardly noticed anyone else around the two of you. 

“Did you hear about Kirby’s party next weekend?” You broke the silence. 

He looked down to meet your eyes. His face held something that almost resembled discomfort. 

He nodded before responding. “Yeah, I did.” 

You stopped for a moment as you rounded the corner that led to film club. “Well, Kirby invited me, but I only want to go if you can come with me.”

His arms dropped to his side. You followed suit. What was this expression he now had? You couldn’t read it. He couldn’t meet your eyes before responding. 

“I made plans to visit my mom at Isle Institution. I haven’t seen her in a while-“ 

Your face dropped as you took in his words. Isle Institution? That was the psychiatric care facility in the next town over. When he had said that his mother was in and out of psychiatric help, you never imagined her living in a facility like that. You immediately felt horrible for bringing up the party. Visiting his mother was clearly more important. 

“Oh, no, I completely understand. Go and see your mother. It’d be nice to have a night in on my own, anyway.” You gave him your most reassuring smile. 

He looked down to meet your eyes again. You could tell he was rolling some idea around in his head. 

“No go, I shouldn’t be gone too long. I’ll meet you there. I’d love to go with you.” He tried to give his best smile in return. You weren’t sure you were buying it. You really didn’t want to go to this party alone, didn’t mind spending the night at home, but if he was able to meet you there not too long after? You’d like that very much. 

“Okay,” you nodded. “But don’t worry if you can’t make it. Just try to let me know, please.” 

“Deal.” He replied. 

Film club passed by quickly, as did the rest of the weekend. 

You spent most of your free time texting back and forth with Charlie. He was so much more sure of himself over the phone. Maybe it just was the face-to-face stuff that made him so nervous. 

The school days during the following week were spent looking for Charlie when you could. You made an effort to pass small touches in the halls, could tell he did the same. You couldn’t help but feel your stomach twist up when you caught him watching you in class.

It’d be a lie to say you hadn’t become even more enamored with him with each passing day. He was so incredibly interesting. You wanted to know more, know everything. You caught yourself laughing along with every dumb joke he’d try to make. 

You’d invite him over after class nearly every day. His confidence around you grew as you spent more and more time around one another. 

You couldn’t lie, being in such close proximity to him was making you feel frustrated in a way you hadn’t felt before. You just wanted to be closer to him. You’d watch his lips, his hands; and pray that he’d just reach over and hold you underneath him-

But as the next few days passed by, you could tell something was growing increasingly troublesome in his mind. He just seemed so far off, distant. You wished you could have just found the right words to say to him, take away whatever was worrying him. You wanted him to come back to you so desperately. 

On Friday, you finally worked up the courage to ask him what was wrong. You laid in your bed next to him, pretending to work on something for your English class. 

“What’s bothering you, Charlie?” You asked. He sat beside you, staring out your bedroom window. 

“Hmm?” He replied as if he hadn’t caught your question. 

You grabbed his hand, urging him to look at you as you adjusted yourself into a sitting position. 

“What’s going on with you?” You asked gently. 

His eyes darted quickly over your face. “Nothing-“ 

Your brows furrowed as you shot a look at him that said, ‘I know you’re lying to me.’

He sighed before continuing, “I- I don’t know. It’s just my mom, I think. I haven’t seen her in a while, to be honest. I’m always nervous to be around her. I don’t want to upset her.” 

You ran your thumb over the back of his hand and nodded. “I’m sorry Charlie, I’m sure she’d love to see you.” You smiled softly. 

He sucked in a breath, nodding. 

You both sat there for a moment, hand in hand, heads against the headboard. Music played faintly in the background, filling the lapse in conversation. 

Charlie was the one who broke the silence after some time had passed. His question was so quiet, you nearly weren’t able to catch it. “Could you hurt someone?”

You turned sharply to look at him. His face stayed forward, but you were able to catch his gaze from his peripherals. 

“What do you mean?” You tried to conceal your confused tone. 

He turned to face you now. “If you had to, could you do it if you absolutely had to?” 

His question was nearly disorienting. Why would he ask you this? Your confusion cleared as you thought back to his mother and his father. Was this what he meant?

Could you? Really, could you bring yourself to do it?

You swallowed hard. “If it were between my life or someone else’s, I think I could.” He settled into the bed a bit at your answer. 

“If this is about your father, Charlie, you did what you had to do. I’d never hold that against you. And I’m sure your mother wouldn’t either.” 

He didn’t reply, only let his gaze fixate on the ceiling fan above. You didn’t push it any further. You hoped he’d be back in his usual spirits after his visit with his mother. 

You woke the next morning in a tangle of sheets. The record you had been playing the night before was skipping over and over again on the player. The conversation you had with Charlie the day before played over in your mind. You frowned. It must feel so lonely to go through life after what he had lived through. You prayed this day would go well for him. 

You sat up, groaning, pushing the hair out of your eyes. You reached for your phone, scrolling through your limited notifications. 

Kirby’s text was at the top. “I’ll see you later. ;)” 

“Can’t wait!” you replied. You honestly hadn’t been keeping up with Kirby as much as you believed you should have. You made a mental note to thank her for the invitation when you saw her tonight. 

Charlie had also messaged you, “I should still be able to make it back in time for the party. I’ll let you know if anything changes.” 

There was a second message from him sent slightly after the first one. “Send me a picture of what you decide to wear.” 

You smiled to yourself. He didn’t care about what you had decided to wear, not so smooth. “You’ll see what I’m wearing when I see you at the party.” 

You honestly hadn’t given much thought to what you would wear. Kirby had messaged you asking for advice on her outfit a few days before. You wanted to dress up like her, look nicer than usual.

You stood, lifting the needle on your record player and turning it off. You pulled your closet doors open and riffled through the mess of hangers inside. After throwing skirts and dresses and other articles of clothing into a pile on your bed, you realized that nothing you owned fit the image you had in mind. 

You groaned, collapsing amongst the pile. It was useless, you resigned yourself. 

Just then, Irina passed by your door, which was propped open about a quarter of the way. An idea came to you then. She’d surely have something. You knew she kept most of her clothing from her life-of-the-party days. She had amassed a comprehensive collection of clothing over the years. Her closet was nearly daunting to explore on your own. 

You quickly stood, throwing open your door. Irina jumped at the end of the hall. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You tried to laugh it all off. She grabbed at her chest, laughing with you. 

“Is there something I can do for you? Or were you trying to give me a heart attack?” She asked, steadying her cup of coffee. 

You made your way down the hall toward her, apologizing again. “Yes, actually, I’m desperate.” 

She cocked an eyebrow, following you into her bedroom. She turned to face you again, unsure where the conversation was about to go. 

“Okay, there’s this big party tonight,” the smile on Irina’s face grew to meet her eyes as you continued. “And I have nothing to wear. It’s just not coming together.” You sighed, dropping onto her bed. 

She set her coffee on the nightstand beside you before opening the doors that led into her closet. 

She started flipping through hangers towards the back of her wardrobe. She reached for a hanger before turning over her shoulder. “Oh, I definitely have an idea or two.” 

You smiled as she walked out, holding a black silken dress in her hands. She placed it in your hands as you looked it over. It was definitely beautiful, imaginatively form-fitting, low-cut, and incredibly short. Not the type of thing you were used to wearing, but you trusted Irina’s vision. She returned from her closet again with a pair of deep red heeled-boots. 

She dropped the boots in your hands as well. “Well, go try it all on.” 

You nodded, standing up. 

Once in the bathroom, you stepped out of your clothes, gently pulling the dress over your head. You slid on the boots before giving yourself a once over in her full-length mirror. 

Your breath caught in your chest at the sight. This was it, exactly the sort of thing you had wanted to wear. How could she always tell? 

You hadn’t realized how long you stood there before Irina knocked on the other side of the door. You steadied yourself, smoothing over the dress before opening the door. 

Irina’s eyes lit up immediately, her hands came up to her chest. “So beautiful, sweetheart.” 

“Thank you,” you replied breathlessly. 

She fixed the straps and tugged at the waistline a bit. “It’s just a little big, but should work for tonight. I’ll have it tailored for you sometime soon.” 

“Thank you so much. Really, thank you.” You replied, wrapping your arms around her. 

The rest of the day was spent anxiously pacing around your house. You fussed with your hair and makeup until giving up and calling in Irina to help you with that as well. 

Once you were all ready, and it was time to go, you collected your few things in the clutch your aunt had also let you borrow. She insisted that your usual purse would have completely ruined the entire outfit. You didn’t fight her on it. 

Irina stopped you at the door. “Have your phone?”

“Yes, fully charged.” You replied. 

She nodded. “Well, keep your ringer on. Call me if you need anything.” 

“Okay.” You reached over to give her one last hug before leaving. 

“Have fun tonight. Be safe and responsible! If the police pick you up, I’ll post your bail!” She called after you as you made your way to your car. You laughed, waving at her over your shoulder. 

You followed the directions to Kirby’s house carefully, trying not to pay any attention to your nerves. You parked in the first spot you found amidst the ever-extending line of parked cars in front of her house. 

You locked your car, shoving the keys back into your clutch. 

The music was loud enough to be heard from the street. You noticed a few people standing on her front porch smoking. 

You anxiously smoothed over your dress. The cool air made your skin prick up. You should’ve brought a jacket. Maybe you could go back and grab one-

No, you quickly put the idea to rest, knowing if you left now, you wouldn’t return. 

You wished Charlie was there to walk in with you as you entered the party. You quickly grabbed a plastic cup from the table that had been set up in the entryway. You filled it up with whatever alcoholic concoction was sitting in a tub in front of you. You finished it in a few gulps, swallowing down hard. The first drink was always the worst. 

You filled it up again before making your way further into the party. The music was making the floor pound. It was hard to keep steady as you pushed through the crowd toward the living room. Most of your peers already appeared to be completely inebriated around you. 

You tried for a few moments to find Kirby but gave up after a while figuring she must be busy or off doing her own thing. 

There were black and white masks thrown about the party. It took a moment, but you eventually recognized them from the Stab movies. You had never personally watched them, but had always seen the advertisements for the films.

Of course, you thought. You honestly hadn’t even really thought about the terrible reality that those movies were based on since moving to Woodsboro. The only time you had really heard about the murders was briefly in your childhood, and occasionally on the news during the anniversary of the killings. Hadn’t they happened in October? 

You found the mask’s presence here odd, even a bit morbid, but you hadn’t actually grown up here. You figured that the lifelong residents who had lived through this all had a right to remember it however they wanted to. 

As you pushed the thought of the murders toward the back of your mind and made your way deeper into the growing crowd, your head began to grow fuzzy and swim under the neon lights that flashed around you. It was a welcome feeling, slowly working to drown out your nerves from before. 

After finishing your third cup, you decided to have a fourth. After this, you’d slow down, you promised yourself. 

You eventually ran into Kirby. She looked stunning, as usual. She was clearly already drunk but held herself together eloquently. 

“Oh my God, it’s so good to see you. I wasn’t actually sure if you would come!” Kirby said while pulling you tightly into a hug.

She stumbled a bit as she let go. You held both her and yourself steady. The effects of the alcohol were slowly reaching a peak inside you. 

“Yeah, it’s good to see you, too. Thank you for the invitation!” You had to shout your reply. Your voice was still nearly muffled by the voices and music around you. 

“Of course! Hope I run into you again.” Kirby smiled and went to turn on her heel. She stopped herself briefly, grabbing your arm before you also walked away. “Have you seen Jill anywhere? She was supposed to be here hours ago.” 

You barely caught the last of her words. “No, I’m sorry. I haven’t seen her.” 

Kirby looked a bit defeated but nodded. “She’ll turn up. Thank you anyways!”

After leaving Kirby, a girl you recognized from your homeroom class passed you a shot glass and another cup of too-sour mixer and what surely must’ve been cheap tequila. You took the gifted shot with a small group of people in the kitchen before slipping back through the main area of the party. The music was becoming too loud; the lights were blinding. You felt so hot, could barely breathe. 

With the cheap DIY margarita still in your hand, you made your way into the backyard. You just needed a moment, needed to see if Charlie had reached out to you yet. The back patio was dimly lit, the cool air was now a welcomed companion. 

A small crowd was formed around some more tables on the lawn below. Beerpong was well underway, and apparently very intense at the moment based on the way people were yelling and cheering each other on. 

You took another sip of your drink before setting the cup on the patio railing, reaching into your purse for your phone. 

You swayed a bit, frowning to yourself after seeing you had no messages from Charlie, no missed calls, either. Your fingers hovered over the screen for a moment as you tried to make out the now swirling letters on your keyboard. 

“Are you almost here?” You took your time rereading the text to make sure you had gotten out the right words. Satisfied, you pressed send. 

You watched your phone for a moment, staring at the screen, hoping for a quick text back. You just wanted to be near him so badly. You came to the conclusion that he must be on his way if he wasn’t responding. Seemingly resigning, you dropped your phone in your bag again. 

As you reached beside you for your cup, it was picked up before you had the chance to grab it. 

Your heart sank as you turned to face the man who was now holding your drink hostage. Scotty towered above you. You watched in disgust as he quickly finished the rest of your drink. 

Even in your now almost drunken state, you wanted to be away from him as quickly as possible. As you turned to walk away, his hand rapidly planted itself on the wall beside your head. You watched with disdain as he threw the now empty cup over his back and placed his other hand on your shoulder. 

His grip was bruising as you tried to shrug him off of you. 

“Hey, where are you trying to run off to? We can be friends, right?” He smelt like liquor, his eyes could hardly focus on you. 

You shivered as he stumbled forward, planting a knee between your thighs, effectively pinning you to the wall. 

You shook your head, looking around for anyone else close by that could step in and help you. It was just the two of you alone on the porch. From what you could tell, no one was paying any attention at all from the lawn below. 

You brought your hands up on his chest, pushing him with all your strength. Your head felt so dizzy, he barely moved an inch. Your body was effectively working against you. You instantly regretted coming to this party, drinking, all of it. You could hardly even find the strength to use your voice.  

“Come on, sweetheart. I know you want me, too; showing up here looking like this tonight. I’m glad you ditched that loser you’ve been seeing.” He brought his head down closer to yours.

The blood under the surface of your skin boiled. Without giving it any thought, you leaned in closer, spitting in his face. 

“Get the fuck off of me.” Your words were more slurred than you had imagined they would be. 

A satisfied smile graced your lips as you watched him stumble back, wiping at his face. 

The proud expression you held quickly transformed into terror as you watched Anderson’s line-of-sight turn dark, filled with rage. 

You barely had time to process what was going on before he stepped back closer to you. You could feel his sickly hot breath on your skin. He closed the distance so quickly. This time, his aggression was not hidden behind the sly mask he wore only moments ago. 

He wouldn’t really hurt you, would he? 

Your question was devastatingly answered as he stepped back half a step, raising his arm to swing. An absolutely evil look showed in his eyes. You wouldn’t have been able to slip past him in time to escape. 

You dropped nearly to your knees, shielding your face with your forearms. 

The entire world seemed to slow and stop around you. It was only you, your back against the wall, your heart pounding in your throat. 

You tensed your entire body, bracing for the impact you were sure was to come. 

Suddenly you were just a child, on your bedroom floor, your father smacking you around as he verbally tore into you. 

You couldn’t help the tears that welled in your eyes. 

Abruptly, you felt a heavy thud in front of you, pulling you from your thoughts. You jumped, the deafening buzz in your ears subsided as you recognized a familiar voice. 

You peeked over your arms. Scotty never got the chance to make contact with you. 

“I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you.” The sound of a fist connecting with the hard bone of a lower jaw rang out around you. 

It was Charlie. 

He was standing over Anderson’s barely conscious body. His left fist was hooked into the collar of his shirt, while his right swung back to let into him again and again. 

Your eyes widened in shock. The sound of Scotty choking back on his own blood urged you to your feet. 

By now, people from the lawn and the thrown-open back door were filing onto the patio. The shocked whispers of those around you fell on deaf ears. 

You reached forward, wrapping your arms around Charlie’s arm that held Anderson in place. 

You pulled with all your strength, working on pure adrenaline. “Stop, Charlie, please. You’ve got him. It’s okay, I’m okay.” 

He slacked at the sound of your words, straightening up to grab you in his arms. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest, or maybe it was just your own that you were feeling. 

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here sooner. I’m so sorry.” He said over and over again. His hands worked themselves comfortingly up and down your back. 

You nodded, painfully pulling yourself away from him for a moment. There were now a few people surrounding Scotty, trying to pull him up from the ground. You could feel the questioning and shocked eyes on you and Charlie from the small crowd that had formed. 

“Please, please, can we just leave?” You gasped out. 

Charlie nodded, looking you over. His arms draped over your shoulder, pulling you into him. He skillfully and carefully moved you through the crowds and out of the house. 

You shivered and stumbled out into the street. Charlie was quick to steady you. He shrugged out of his coat and threw it gently over your shoulders. The tears were steadily streaming down your face and onto your chest. 

Once at your car, you messed around in your purse, digging for your keys. 

“Here baby, please, let me drive you home.” Charlie reached for your purse and walked around with you to the passenger side. He opened the door for you, waiting until you were in comfortably before closing the car door slowly. He was quick to find your keys and turn over the engine.

The car was silent. You were both unsure of what to say. 

“I’m so sorry,” Charlie spoke just above a whisper. You looked over at him. His knuckles, from what you could tell, were white as he gripped the steering wheel. A thick layer of blood had dried across his right hand. 

You shivered again at the thought of what had happened just moments before. You honestly would’ve never believed Charlie had that kind of physical strength in him. To drop a man, who was objectively much bigger than nearly everyone was, to the ground- it was just so- 

You looked up to meet his eyes. “Please don’t be sorry. If you hadn’t come when you had, hadn’t done what you had done to protect me- I’m sorry that you even had to get involved.” 

He sighed, reaching to rest one of his warm hands on your bare upper thigh. “Don’t apologize to me. It should’ve never been able to get to that point.” 

You put your hand over his as gently as possible, carefully avoiding his knuckles that were already beginning to swell. 

How could this have all happened? How could you put yourself in this position? You tried to will away the dark thoughts that were telling you that this was in any way your fault. You truly couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt, though. What if Charlie got into any trouble because of this? What if Anderson pressed charges or tried to get back at Charlie or you in some horrible way? Were you both in any danger now? No one stood up to men like Anderson and his group.  

And if Charlie hadn’t gotten there when he had-? How was it possible for him to always be there in the moments you needed him? And how was he able to do what he did? It was all just so unbelievable. You had seen a side of Charlie tonight you would’ve never imagined you’d see. The venom in his voice, the strength, the quick brutality of actions- 

This entire situation sobered you up rapidly. You dropped your head in your hands, willing away the tears. You hadn’t even realized you were beginning to hyperventilate until you felt Charlie’s hand tighten around you, urging you out of your own thoughts.

You could feel him steal small glances of you as you stared out the passenger window. 

“I’m sorry, I’m okay.” You said, your voice raspy and broken. You sat up straight, wiping away the last of your tears. You had to be stronger than this, it was going to be okay, it had to be. 

“Don’t say sorry anymore, please.” Charlie looked over to meet your eyes.

The hand he held on your thigh came up to rest in the mess of your hair. He moved his fingers, carefully working to comfort you. 

Your eyes fluttered back as you relaxed into him. 

As long as you were with him, it would be okay. You would work it out together. 

Charlie’s hand dropped back into your lap as your breaths evened out a bit more. His fingers traced steady circles on your upper thighs, just above the silk of your dress. 

You carefully shrugged out of his coat; it was just getting so warm. You went to reach for the dial that adjusted your AC, only to find it had been shut off this entire time. 

You felt your face flush as you dropped your hand back in your lap. 

“You know, I’m glad I waited to see that dress on you in person.” Charlie gave you a smile, trying his best to reassure you, relieve any of the tension that still drilled into your nerves. “You really do look beautiful. I mean- you always do, I-“ 

You let out a sigh that nearly resembled a real laugh, sinking further into your seat. Your head fell to rest on his arm. 

“Thank you, Charlie.” Your heart swelled as you looked up at him. The features of his face lit up so perfectly under the dim street lighting. You wished you could capture this image and keep it forever. You hadn’t even noticed that you were now parked in front of your house. 

He was just so beautiful, kept you safe. You knew, in his own way, he absolutely adored you. He was absolutely everything to you. You would do anything, if it brought him any sort of peace. 

Your smile widened as he looked down at you. 

He gently moved the hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear. 

“What’s going on, babe?” His brow furrowed a bit as he tried to find the cause of the tears that had begun to well in your eyes again. 

You never wanted to be away from him. You just hoped he understood how deeply you cared for him, how much you needed him. How much you lo- “I love you.” The words spilled mindlessly out of you. 

He immediately tensed beside you. Had you actually said that out loud? 

He was quick, carefully wrapping his hands on either side of your face, pulling you close to look at him. He studied your face for any hint of sincerity. 

Had you been sincere? Yes, you resigned yourself. You really did love him. Whatever love meant to you, it filled your heart just for him. 

“Do you mean that?” His voice was so low. 

You nodded. “Yes Charlie, I just love you. I mean it.” 

His lips were on yours before he could give himself another moment to process it all. 

You melted into him, matching his fervent need. 

“I love you, too.” He spoke against your lips. The tears finally began to fall again. After all the terrible things that had happened to you in life, if you had to experience them all over again, just to stay in this moment with him like this for a moment longer, you’d choose to go through it in a heartbeat.

He worked quickly, picking you up over the center console and helping you over his lap. 

You needed more of him, impossibly more. 

His grip around you was nearly suffocating. You just wanted more. All the terrible things that had happened that night seemingly melted away while in his arms. 

He pulled away for a moment. His gaze was full of wonderment and adoration as he looked up at you. He made you feel so beautiful. 

“I’ll pray every night, just to thank whoever brought you into my life.” He spoke just above a whisper. He traced kisses softly against your chest and neck, marking a careful path back to your lips. 

You sighed, arching further into him. Your hands worked through his beautiful hair. 

You weren’t sure how long you both stayed like this. You could’ve stayed in this moment, just in his arms forever, as far as you were concerned. However, the sudden light from your porch sent you both back into your original seats. 

You looked over, eyes falling on Irina, who now stood in the open doorway wearing her robe. Her arms were crossed lazily in front of her chest. 

You groaned quietly, dropping your head into your hands.

You peaked over at Charlie, who was clearing his throat and clumsily adjusting the waistband of his pants. 

You gave him a smile before letting out a real, heartfelt laugh. You wished you could’ve just invited him, climbed into bed, into his arms-

He stepped out of the car quickly, flashing a smile toward you. You hoped he didn’t feel any shame about seemingly being ‘caught’ by your aunt. You knew she wouldn’t care, was just being nosy as usual. You made a glaring mental note to give her the rundown on the escalation of your relationship with Charlie. How could you have not said anything about it to her sooner? 

Charlie made his way over to your side of the car and popped open the door. He held out a hand, helping you out of your seat.

Once your feet hit the pavement, you threw your arms around him again. “I’ll see you again soon. Are you sure you’re okay to walk home?” 

“Yeah, don’t worry about me.” He smiled down at you. 

You kissed him quickly. “You know I always will.” 

“I know. I love you for it.” He replied softly. 

He stepped away, turning to face your aunt. “I’m sorry, just wanted to make sure she made it home safely.” 

Your aunt nodded, “Uh huh.” She couldn’t hide her wide, knowing smile. “Good to see you again, Walker. Have a goodnight.” 

You tried your best to keep your cool as you made your way up the porch steps. Turning back once to wave goodbye to Charlie. 

Irina eyed you over as you both entered the entryway. You knew she must be dying to hear all the details from the night. 

You honestly wouldn’t have the first clue where to start. You curbed her line of questioning before she had the chance to begin. 

“I’ll tell you all about my night tomorrow. I promise, I am just exhausted.” You made your way up the staircase, turning once over your shoulder to face her again. “Thank you for everything tonight, I love you.” 

You could tell Irina was trying her best to hide her slight disappointment, “Okay honey, get some good rest. I love you, too.”

You slipped out of your clothing and heels, running through your nightly routine as quickly as you could before dropping into bed. 

You’d process the entire interaction with Anderson another time. Quite frankly, you believed he deserved to get his teeth knocked in much, much sooner. You were just thankful that Charlie was the one who had stepped in. A sick sense of pride washed over you at the thought.  

For now, you could sleep peacefully knowing that Charlie Walker loved you, too.

[claygoestothemovies]

⭐️⭐️⭐️1/2

Tim Burton’s legacy sequel BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE is finally here, a mere thirty-six years after the original captivated fans the world over back in the late eighties. Is it worth the wait? Not really, but it’s still not a bad way to spend a couple hours at the movies.

The story is truly all over the place, with far too many characters and plot threads that never reach anything nearing a satisfying conclusion. But the main gist of the story involves the living characters from the original coming together after a death shakes the family to its core. At least, that’s what we’re told. Nobody seems very bothered in the finished product. Lydia (Winona Ryder, wearing a series of ever more hilarious faces) is now apparently a television host in the vein of Ghost Hunters. She has a daughter, Astrid (Jenna Ortega, trapped playing a teenager yet again), who steadfastly believes that ghosts aren’t real. Delia (Catherine O’Hara, doing her thing) is at least still recognizable as the character we know and love from years gone by. As for the titular Beetlejuice (Michael Keaton), although I feel he got far too much screentime, he is still up to his mischievous ways. We’ve also got plot lines following Justin Theroux’s cringy Rory, Willem Dafoe’s undead detective Wolf Jackson, Arthur Conti’s boy-next-door Jeremy, and the most underutilized of all: Monica Bellucci as soul sucking villainess Delores. Exhausting, isn’t it?

A lot of what doesn’t work feels like mistakes that a first time director would make. Being so excited to finally get to make a movie that they try desperately to cram all their ideas into one film, and as a result none of it gets executed very well. On the bright side, the glorious practical effects work is still stellar. If you’re a fan of old school practical effects, this film will fill you with glee from shrunken head to dismembered toes. The jokes, when they land, *are* very funny. Unfortunately, the ratio of jokes that work and jokes that don’t isn’t in the ideal range. You’ll be groaning nearly as often as you laugh. That being said, humor is subjective, so take that with a grain of salt, I suppose.

Ultimately, it’s a fun, yet deeply flawed and frustrating watch. I had less of an issue with it than some as I’m not the biggest fan of the original film, so I’m not precious about the material. I think wasting Monica Bellucci is the biggest sin it commits, and I don’t believe for a second that Lydia would go into television for a career, but otherwise, I had a fun time! It has less heart than its predecessor, feels shallow, and never really justifies its existence; but in this age of countless legacy sequels and reboots, this is definitely better than it had to be. Cautiously recommend.

3.5/5

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Trick or Treat

A conversation between Midge and Emily

The phone call comes in the early afternoon on a Wednesday.

“Hi, Emily, it’s Midge Schneider, from Stars Hollow. Lorelai’s neighbor?”

Emily freezes, a little confused. “Oh. Hello.”

“Hi,” Midge smiles. “Look, I know it’s strange for me to be calling out of the blue, but I found a few things that I thought you would really like, and I wondered if you’d like to stop by when you’re free.”

“...Oh. Well. Things I would like?”

“Photos of Lorelai and Rory,” Midge explains. “I’d mail them, but I worry about them getting creased. If you’re busy, I can drop them off at some point.”

“No,” Emily says, surprised. “I would very much like photos of the girls.”

“Great! Free Saturday afternoon?” Midge asks.

“I...yes, actually.”

“See you around one. I’ll make some cake. See you Saturday!”

With that, she hangs up, and Emily frowns at the phone.

*****

She pulls up to the Schneiders’ home that Saturday, and looks up at the house.

It’s a modest home. Well-kept, and Emily knows there’s an incredible garden in the back. She gets out of the car and steps up to the front porch, glancing around at the flower boxes, and an ornate bench swing. 

When she knocks, the door swings open and Midge smiles at her, still wearing an apron. “Emily!”

“Hello, Midge.”

“Hi, come on in!”

Emily steps inside, looking around at the front hall, painted a pale shade of pink, lined with family photos and show posters. She’s led through the foyer and back to the kitchen, naturally lit and adorned with cream wallpaper with what look like hand-sketched dusky pink roses on it.

Midge doesn’t stop though, and Emily follows her through to a warm dining room, its table long and laden with an antique tea set, and home-baked pastries.

“Have a seat,” Midge says, gesturing towards the table.

“I...I didn’t know you’d gone to all this trouble...” Emily admits, looking surprised.

“No trouble,” Midge shrugs. “I love to do this stuff, and I don't get to as often as I used to anymore.” She starts pouring the tea. “Lemon? Sugar?”

“Lemon, please,” Emily says, sitting down slowly, looking around. “Your house is quite nice.”

Midge beams and hands her a cup. “Thanks. We did a little refresh recently. Had the walls washed and a deep dusting.” She sits down with her own tea, taking a sip. “Please, help yourself to whatever you’d like. There’s chocolate rugelach, lemon blueberry cake, and cinnamon babka.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve had rugelach, but I don’t know that I know what babka is,” Emily admits.

Midge lights up. “It’s a yeasted swirl bread,” she explains. “Usually chocolate or cinnamon. Lenny likes cinnamon so I stick with that.”

Emily nods, but hesitates. “I appreciate all of this, Midge. It’s very nice of you, but I am curious about those photos of the girls.”

Midge nods and gets up, setting her cup down, before going to the other room and coming back with a folder. “My son is a photography hobbyist, and the year before Rory started Chilton, we had a family get-together, and when the sun went down, he lit the whole garden and took really beautiful photos. Lorelai and Rory were there, and he got some great shots of them, too.” She hands them over and grins.

Emily takes it and opens it, looking down. “Oh, these are really something.”

“Right? Ethan did a great job,” Midge smiles proudly. “And the girls are so photogenic anyways.”

“They truly are,” Emily agrees, still gazing at the photos. “Lenny’s garden is remarkable.”

“Oh, he loves it,” Midge smiles. “It’s like his fourth child.”

Emily nods slowly as she looks at the other woman. “Can I ask you a question?”

 “Sure.”

Emily stays quiet a moment before speaking. “You seem to know Lorelai and Rory so much better than Richard and I.”

Midge shrugs a little. “Well...we met them when they were pretty young, and we adore both of them. Smart, driven girls. It was like having more kids. Well...we feel that way about a lot of people in town. Luke and Jess. Lane, too.”

“But you can’t possibly agree with all the decisions they make,” Emily comments tartly.

“God, of course not,” Midge scoffs. “Believe me, there are times I could pull out my hair, thinking about some of the stupid mistakes those girls have made. And Luke. And Jess. And Lane.”

Emily huffs.

“And when I was younger, I would have swooped in to fix everything,” Midge admits. “Just took the wheel and steered them away from whatever dumbass decisions they were making. But as an old woman, I know that they would hate me for it. I have to let them make their dumbass decisions and help pick up the pieces when they ask for my help. Because if they need help, they’ll ask. Well. The girls will. Luke and Jess are much bigger idiots.”

“Men usually are.”

“You’re not kidding.”

Emily sighs softly. “I absolutely loathe not just taking control and getting everything back on track.”

Midge shrugs. “You get used to it.”

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 4 “Does that hurt?”                              

 | Impalement | Fracture | Punishment | also alt Whip

Still with Caged Founder and another day for @juneofdoom,

Tristan thinks in the aftermath of stress relief for him.

Both Tristan and Elijah need therapy and to talk.

Set around the same time as Nightmare

----

“Tristan, why aren’t I healing?” Elijah asked calmly, his voice carrying nothing more than faint curiosity.

He’s not sure if Elijah’s new acceptance, almost enjoyment of pain is a development from what they once shared when he was human, Elijah had taken what he dealt and returned it with a smirk when all his past fleeting playthings had winced or teared up, or Elijah grasping at any control he can after they-Tristan had striped so much from him.

Whatever it was Tristan wasn’t going to deny it or fail to enjoy himself with the opportunity. 

“I’ve soaked the whip in vervain, do you wish to stop?” He asked in return, this wasn’t a punishment, this was something Elijah had offered once he noticed Tristan’s growing tension, too many pointless hold up in several of the Strix’s plans in short notice.

“No point since I'm already here, it’ll heal.” Elijah shrugged

—

Later as he sat beside Elijah’s sleeping body, Tristan reminded himself that Elijah had offered, he had noticed Tristan’s rising tension and anger and asked him about it, offering him an outlet before he slipped up.

Perhaps accepting that was the slip up.

Aurora was going to be very angry at both of them but mostly him, unless her night of research kept her away long enough for the lashes to heal, he wasn't sure if she was looking up myths and gods or looking up another university course in psychiatry.

He traced the wounds, they would heal and be gone by the morning, yet now they remained the only marks on flawless skin.

There weren't as many as he was better known for, few had truly broken the skin too deep, he attention hadn’t been on the damage he had inflicted but Elijah’s reaction going just only enough to get his reactions before he slowed and stopped.

In his sleep Elijah’s face twitched as he grazed a nail along the edge on one of the few open wounds, no attempt to hide it in his sleep.

Elijah still kept so much of himself hidden, so rarely allowing himself a moment without rigid control but he had been letting them see more since Aurora had made her intentions clear and started speaking about it, telling and warning Tristan when he went to far where Elijah wouldn’t.

Elijah had proved surprisingly good at dealing with Aurora’s mood and finding ways to manage them, it should be surprising given what Elijah is like.

Tristan knows if they hadn’t come together, he would have accidentally pushed Elijah past breaking point, in a way he couldn’t fix and he would have been forced to lock Aurora away instead of getting to see her flourish.

Elijah’s face twisted in his sleep and Tristan's hand paused before he could reach out, never sure how he could sooth nightmares like he could with Rory when he was half the cause of Elijah’s.

He had been sleeping more, some days refusing to leave the bed, others even when he did dress and leave their rooms, exhaustion clearly weighed on him.

Tristan was well aware that the demons of the mind didn’t solely affect humans, that the depression that now haunted Elijah was his doing, and was about as simple to fix as the ritual that now bound Elijah’s ability to protect himself.

Elijah Mikaelson had once been a marble statue, Tristan’s actions had cracked the facade, just as they had fractured his mind but cracks and fractures could be filled with molten gold and become a far greater piece of art.

This Elijah wasn’t the marble statue and even when Tristan wished he could erase all the damage he had done it was too late, but this Elijah was his.

And he treasured what was his.

[melxhunter]

PICTURES TO BURN

In which, Rory Mayfield finds herself in the world of Supernatural instead of her own.

Additionally, things only go further sideways once she meets two plaid wearing knuckleheads traveling in an old Impala...

Extended summary:

FEELING SO THE LOSS, she cannot but ever weep the mother.

Shoulders slumped under the weight of Death's hand, sixteen-year-old Rory could feel the waters at her feet, ready to pull her under. Expect a change of fate saves her, a happenstance thrusts her to her father, and she finds herself in the Supernatural world instead of her own.

Here, all the monsters under the bed are real – or at least could be. Behind every curtain is a devil in disguise, demons, vampires, ghosts, werewolves, wendigos and God knows what else. At every corner stands a risk, every snap of a twig could be the very difference between life and death. With dozens of monsters out in the wild and constantly preying for victims wherever they go, it's safe to say all hunters has their hands full at night. The life as a hunter is indeed time consuming and incredibly dangerous. Dean Winchester knows it's a bad idea to let her in, but he does so anyway. Rory Mayfield knows it's a bad idea to stick around, yet she stays. It's a bad idea. They know it. The thought and realization of it all repeatedly sinks into their bones, settles like a beast below, a monster molded in their marrow that they cannot unravel and eliminate.

This is a bad idea. They know it. But what other choice do they have? Rory's life in a completely different world was long gone, her mother was dead, and he was all she had left.

Dean might not know the first thing about how to be a stable father, but if there was one thing he did know, it was how to be there for someone who needed him. He is not going fail her, not if he has any say on the matter.

But shouldn't he know by now?

With him around, she can never, ever, truly be safe.

In the end, if he stays around, the only thing left of her could very well be nothing more than pictures to burn.

Interested to read more? Then check out Pictures To Burn by melxhunter (me) on Wattpad!