#so i care less about rory and him

[trekkiehood]

I thought *thought* Luke and Lorelai were taking up all of my brain space but last night I dreamt about Logan and Rory so idk what my brain wants anymore

[unnamedmedicalprofessional]

tw mention of child neglect

I think some people, including me before I analyzed the opening scenes of the Eleventh Hour more closely, assume Amy's abandonment issues are just about being abandoned by The Doctor, but there's way more to it than that. Her parents had disappeared for reasons she had no capacity to understand, and she's left with her aunt who's heavily implied to be neglectful (leaving a child home alone completely unsupervised) and who she says she'd be lucky not to have. She also doesn't fit in as the only Scottish girl in the English village and frankly just an odd person in general.

When The Doctor says he'll come back, she says people always say that like she knows from experience. The tragedy of what The Doctor accidentally did to her is that she finally however breifly met an adult that cared about her only to have that ripped away again and having others disbelief in him only alienate her from others further. She keeps getting taken to psychiatrists and biting them. It's worth noting that even though it was an accident, it was incredibly callous of The Doctor to promise he'd be five minutes when he knows the TARDIS has a long history of being unreliable. Rule one The Doctor lies, not just as part of plans, but also to pretend to be a version of himself that's actually responsible and reliable.

And that's why she has so much trouble healthily expressing her love for Rory, because deep down she's afraid he'll abandon her to. That's also why Amy needs Rory, because there is nobody less likely to abandon Amy Pond than Rory Williams.

[wordsarelife]

—i can fix him (no really i can)

pairing: jess mariano x fem!doose!reader

summary: jess got into another fight and you're about to clean his wounds, but he has other plans, tired of always answering your questions

warnings: kissing, making out, sexual remarks, allusions to sex

note: this was so fun to write and my first jess mariano fic, so please be gentle guys!!

“you never fail to amaze me, jess mariano“ you huffed, arms crossed as your eyes fell on the boy sitting on the curb in front of the supermarket. shadows were casted over his cheeks and he looked less than happy to see you.

"it isn't what it looks like" he muttered, trying to avert his gaze, although that was kind of hard, considering the outfit you were wearing.

your brushed your skirt to the side, before you sat down beside him. "well, it looks like you got beaten up"

"you should see the other guy" jess chuckled.

you sighed, not amused by the joke, as you softly touched his cheek.

"ow!" jess pulled his head back, trying to free it from your hands, but you were relentless, turning his chin in all possible directions to get a good look at his injuries.

"we're gonna have to clean them if you don't want them to get infected"

"i don't care about that" jess shrugged and took out a cigarette from a pocket of his jacket.

"yeah, i know tough guy". you quickly snatched the cigarette from his mouth before he was able to light it. "but i do"

"what the fuck, y/n?" jess exclaimed annoyed.

you left his words unanswered as you stood up from the cold concrete and held a hand in his direction to help him up. "come on, now. we're not dating, because i care so little about you, are we?"

jess rolled his eyes, before he followed you, of course ignoring your helping hand in the process.

you laughed at his tough act as he sent you a dark look, not finding anything about this remotely funny. he knew that this was one of your usual tactics to get him to talk. you would act understanding and worried about his injuries before he would be caught in a room alone with you, with no way to escape, having to explain every little detail about the fight.

well, tonight he decided, you were going to be caught in a room with him.

a smug smile slipped onto jess' features as he followed you up the stairs. you turned around and pushed a finger against your mouth, before you took out your keys and unlocked the door.

"grandpa is sleeping" you muttered, opening the door wide enough for jess to walk through, but not wide enough to reach the creaking sound.

jess and you had met the year before at the supermarket, where you had watched him buy a ridiculous amount of industrial glue, while he was busy watching rory and dean talk.

you had guessed that he had been doing that to bother them and while rory was a friend of yours, you had to admit that it had been a little funny.

unbeknownst to you, jess had forgotten everything about rory, once his eyes fell on you behind the counter.

"are you working on the worlds longest scrapbook or are you just very passionate about glue?"

"huh?" jess had been so stunned by what you said that he lost his usual cool demeanor and found himself at a temporary loss for words. he couldn't remember a situation in which he had not been able to reply with a witty joke.

"want me to repeat that?" you asked amused as you pulled the last bottle of glue over the scanner.

"no-uh" he shook his head "i'm jess, luke's nephew"

"oh" you smiled, a sign of recognition in your eyes "that's you!"

"and you are?" he held the ten dollar note in your direction.

you took the money, taking out his change in the process. "i'm y/n, taylor doose's—"

you were interrupted when the aforementioned man stepped next to you, a frown on his face at the sight of jess. "i'm her grandfather" he finished for you. "and you're gonna stay far away from her, you hear me, mariano?" he pressed.

"grandpa!" you scolded and jess was surprised at the sudden shame that entered taylor doose's face. it seemed like he really gave a damn about your opinion, unlike he did with anyone else in this town.

"well, i'm gonna check on miss patty and her plums" taylor excused quickly and walked away, before you could question him further.

"please don't mind him" you told jess, amusement evident on your lips "i just got back and he's been a little on edge without me here"

"where have you been?" jess asked, intrigued to hear more about the mysterious and pretty girl in front of him.

"my dad's" you replied with an uneasy smile. he recognized the expression on your face, had he always worn it himself when someone had asked him about his parents.

he decided not to stir the pot any more. "well, i'll see you around, doose" jess said, took his glue and left you standing with only a faint goodbye from your lips.

jess' hands went to squeeze your waist, as you closed the door.

you were luckily able to suppress any sound at the sudden touch and you could jess' smirk in your neck.

"very funny, mariano" you whispered, freeing yourself from his grip and turning around to let him see the annoyed expression on your face.

his eyes glistened with happiness in the dark of the hallway, before his hand went behind your back, bringing you closer to him. "why don't we go to your room?" he whispered.

you had to admit that for a short, misguided, second the sweetness of his words was not far away from undermining you.

you shook your head, snapping out of whatever had gone through your head at his tempting suggestion. "nice try" you smiled sarcastically and jess sighed, letting go of you and following behind you to the bathroom.

jess was no stranger to your rejection, especially when your grandfather was home, but he was not finished trying to (respectfully) lead you into temptation.

"there are two options how we can do this" you spoke, your voice in a normal volume as soon as jess had closed the door.

before you could explain his options, he interrupted you, the smirk now basically right in your face when you turned up the light and looked at him. "want me to lock the door?"

"no" you dragged. "you know why? because we are not doing anything forbidden"

"forbidden, huh?" jess smiled "kinda like the sound of that"

"this is not a rom-com"

"oh no" jess shook his head, wearing a faked stoic expression "of course not. just two people doing non-forbidden things in the bathroom" he shrugged.

"it sounds wrong when you say it like that"

"what does it sound like?" he stepped closer to you, ready to touch your lips with his, as his eyes fell close, but you were quicker, swerving around him, before he was able to even touch you.

"nah-ah!" you scolded.

"what?" jess turned around, now crossing his arms like you had done earlier "i'm just trying to kiss my girlfriend"

"not happening" you shrugged. "so, as i was trying to tell you before: you have two options: first, the easy one: let me fix your face and we're done in no time"

"or?" he furrowed his brows, leaning against the wall.

"or" you repeated "the hard one" jess' smile got impossibly bigger and you rolled your eyes "ew, not like you think"

"fine" he sighed. "the easy one i guess, no need to tell me about your torture method"

"it's not a torture method, but thanks for thinking so poorly of me" you muttered, before you opened the drawer under the sink, taking out the first aid kink.

you climbed on top of the counter and motioned for jess to come closer and stand in between your legs.

"well, this is kind of suggestive, don't you think?" he pinched your waist. you just shook your head, taking his hand and laying it on top of your knee instead.

"keep your hands there, mister" you directed, before you grabbed a wet cotton pad and pushed up his chin, so you could gently take the unnecessary blood off his face. "for your own good, i hope that the other started throwing punches"

"of course" jess nodded, overly dutiful, before he hissed in pain as the cotton pad touched one of the scars on his nose.

"you should've thought about that before you got into an unnecessary fight, you know?" you commented, switching out the pad, before you continued cleaning the other side of his face.

"yeah, yeah" he averted his eyes, his gaze falling onto the hem of your skirt, his fingers were laying on top of. he softly raised the fabric, pushing his hands to rest on your bare thigh.

"jess" you sighed in a warning tone.

"what? it's itchy"

"it isn't" you rolled your eyes, but didn't discuss the topic further as you threw away the pad.

you tried reaching behind you to grab one of the plasters from the first aid kit, but jess was quicker, snatching the box away from you and holding it behind his back with one hand.

"wha—"

"give me a kiss first" he prompted, smirking.

"jess" you whined, not amused at his antics.

"just one kiss, come on babe"

you reluctantly nodded. jess stepped closer, taking your chin into his hand and pulling your face closer so your lips could meet his.

his lips were warm and firm against yours, his teasing grin fading as the kiss deepened. what was meant to be a quick peck quickly turned into something more. his hand, which had been holding the first aid kit out of reach, dropped it to the floor as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

you could feel the intensity growing between you two, the playful resistance dissolving into a surge of unexpected desire.

jess' other hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you even closer as the kiss became more urgent, more consuming.

when you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, he looked at you with a glint in his eye. "was that so hard?" he teased, his voice a little huskier than before.

"oh, shut up" you muttered, flustered and lips swollen as a cause of the intensity of the kiss. you gently shoved his face back. "now pick up the first aid kit you dropped"

"yes, ma'am"

you shook your head, laughing to yourself as you watched him reach for the box on the ground behind him. it had clattered open, revealing it's contents to the ground beneath it.

he threw everything back in the box before he picked it up and came back to the counter to stand in front of you.

you took a few plasters, opening them up to stick them to the cuts on his face. "you look cute" you commented as soon as you were finished.

"i'm not cute" jess exclaimed with a stoic expression.

"you're always cute" you shrugged, now being the one to take his chin into your hands. "especially when you tell me who you fought—"

he didn't even let you finish the sentence, before he pushed his lips against yours once more. even tough it was a clear tactic to avoid your questioning, you didn't mind it this time (not that you did before, but you had to at least act like it) pulling him closer by the neck and deepening the kiss.

jess moaned into your mouth, and your lips broke into a smile. his hands were now inching closer up your thighs and a soft laugh broke from your lips when you had to catch your breath.

"let's go to your room" jess muttered, lips skipping over your neck.

"grandpa is home" you reminded.

"grandpa is asleep" he pointed out, brows moving up and down suggestively.

"jess" you giggled, as he grabbed your waist, setting you down on the floor and taking your hand to leave the bathroom, before even waiting for an answer.

well, you weren't open to any more protests then, as he took you up to your room. the only thought in your head was to stay quiet.

opposite to the rest of the night, the next morning was straight hellfire, as neither you or jess had taken the time to set an alarm.

so taylor doose entered your room without the slightest thought and watched in horror as a half-naked jess mariano climbed out of your bedroom window and fell rather awkwardly on the ground in front of it. probably right into your grandpa's rose bushes.

"i think i might be having a heart attack"

[ghostfacd]

I FEEL YOUR COMPLIMENTS LIKE BULLETS ON SKIN. | JACK HUGHES

au masterlist

Jack had always made sure to compliment how good you were at being a mother. How great you were with the kids, how gracefully you handled each problem when it arose. That was just who Jack Hughes was. He was a charmer, always having a way with his words.

You never hated Jack Hughes more than you had at this moment. Your second and youngest baby, Daisy Hughes, was currently celebrating away her first birthday, her chubby hands clapping together excitedly, not aware that her mother, you, was going through an emotional turmoil.

Your first baby, however, was extremely smart for his age. So caring and thoughtful.

“You ‘kay mama?” He wasn’t able to speak proper sentences yet, only being 2, but he had the idea down.

“I’m okay bubba, thank you for asking.” You picked him up, giving him a kiss on the cheek to which he returned one to yours, sloppy but so full of love that it reminded you of Jack.

In fact, Olivier reminded you so much of Jack. He was practically your husband’s carbon copy, your genes having not put up a single fight.

“Daisy fussin’ mama,” Olivier presses his small hands against your cheek, making you turn to look at his baby sister.

“She’s probably just hungry,” you reassure him, placing him down gently before opening the fridge to get milk. “Aren’t you Daisy bear?”

Your baby talk makes your daughter babble something happily back, smiling ear to ear. She was adorable, your mini copy.

An hour later, most of your family members, including Jack’s parents and Quinn had came over to the house, all holding mini gift bags that said Happy Birthday!

Olivier had practically ran over Ellen, who smothered the boy in kisses before doing the same to Daisy who was currently sitting in her high chair.

“Oh my! She’s grown so big,” Ellen says admiringly, “she looks so much like you Rory.”

“Thank you mama,” you say, holding onto Ellen’s hand for a while before taking out the cake you had bought yesterday from the fridge. It was mini sized, perfect for Daisy who’s eyes lit up at the sight of it.

“Jack’s busy tonight?” Quinn whispers after your baby is done blowing out her cake.

“Yeah, him and Luke are away.” You try to hide your disappointment, but Quinn can clearly see it. He knows you like the back of his hand at this point, you were his sister in law.

“Has he called at least?”

You sigh, shaking your head. You knew Jack loved Daisy, you knew he loved both of your kids with all his heart, but it was still upsetting to know that he would be missing Daisy’s first milestone.

“Well don’t worry about it too much Rory, I’m sure he’ll call by tonight. That’s his Daisy girl after all, he wouldn’t miss seeing you two over FaceTime.”

You nod, giving Quinn a quick hug before waving goodbye to all your family members. Now, it was just you and your two kids, like it had been for the past 2 weeks.

You missed Jack with all your heart, wanting to do this entire parenting thing with him. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to be here with you guys, it was just that he couldn’t. But it didn’t make that any less painful.

“Hey.” The sound of Jack makes both of your kids’ ears perk up, Daisy blabbing happily as Olivier ran out from his room.

“Dada!” Ollie takes a seat right next to Daisy, who was currently on your lap.

“My Ollie boy!” Jack’s smile grows wide, watching as Olivier fidgets around in happiness. “How was Daisy’s birthday baby? Did you guys have fun?”

“So much fun!” Olivier opens his arms wide, as if he was trying to express how much fun he had with the length of his arm. “I had this much fun!”

“Oh really,” Jack laughs. “I bet you did. Did you give mama a hard time?”

“Nah uh!” Olivier shakes his head, getting up and personal to the camera. “Daisy was fussin’ earlier dada, but mama took care of her.”

“I’m glad.” Jack then turns his attention to you on the screen. “Hi Rory sweetheart.”

“Hi,” you say. You want to sound happy, you do, but not having Jack by your side really took a toll on your emotions.

“You okay?”

“I just wish you were here Jacky.”

Jack sighs, turning on his hotel room lamp. “I know baby, I wish I was too. I really miss you guys.”

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

Jack’s happy demeanor flatters. “What did you say?”

“Nothing Jack,”

He shakes his head. “No Rory. I heard you. What do you mean it doesn’t seem like it?”

“You barely called today Jack!” You say exasperated, “it’s your daughter’s first birthday, and you barely called. It’s 10pm right now, I should’ve put Daisy and Ollie to sleep an hour ago, but I was waiting on your phone call ‘cause I knew they’d wanted to see you. You know, their father, Jack.”

Jack rubs his face in annoyance, clearly not expecting such a reaction from you. “Well I’m sorry I was busy Rory. I would’ve called if I wasn’t, you know that right? I love you guys, you know this. I’m sorry I haven’t been there Ror, I know it’s hard on you. But you’re such a good mother, you’re doing so well with the kids, I’m proud of you.”

“You know what’s funny, J?” You laugh, a few tears coming to your eyes. “Your words are supposed to make me feel better. Your compliments are supposed to make me let go of all this tension. But they feel like bullets, Jack. I feel your compliments feel like bullets on skin.”

Jack doesn’t know what to say. He knew you would be upset he wouldn’t be able to make it to Daisy’s birthday, but he didn’t think you’d be this upset.

“I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay? We both just need to calm down.”

And before you could protest, Jack’s already hung up.

You swear quietly, covering your baby’s ear as you do so. You get up from your place on the couch, deciding to just call it a night and put Daisy to sleep.

“Are you asleep yet Ol?” You peek your head quietly into your son’s room after putting Daisy in her crib.

“No mama,” he says quietly back, little feet running to you. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Of course you can sweetheart,” you carry Olivier on your hip, walking to your room and making sure your son gets comfortable under the sheets. “Mama is gonna do her skincare, you sleep first, okay baby?”

“Yes mama.”

That night, you can’t help but cry silently as you cuddled your son close to your chest. You knew you were being emotional, but you couldn’t help it. You missed Jack more than anything.

The next morning, you’re awoken by a kiss on the forehead.

“J?” You say groggily, making out your husband’s face as your vision becomes clearer. “J!”

You throw your arms around him, bringing him into a tight hug.

“Rory.” He replies back, pulling away to give you a long awaited kiss on the lips.

After pulling away, you can’t help but chase his lips, which make him chuckle quietly. He presses his head down to give a kiss on Olivier’s forehead.

“Daisy’s still asleep?” You ask, putting your arms around Jack’s shoulders. You missed feeling his touch so much.

“Sound asleep.” Jack smiles. “Looks exactly like her mama.”

You look down guilty, realizing what you had said to Jack yesterday. “I’m sorry about yesterday J. I was just really emotional about you missing Dais’s first birthday. It means a lot to me that you’re here for our babies milestones.”

“I know.” Jack says, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “I’m here now, okay? I told them I had to be home with my wife and kids immediately after I hung up last night. I had to see you guys again, it was killing me too.”

You pull Jack into a hug once again, cherishing this intimate moment you were having with him. It felt so good to have him back in your arms again after a long 2 weeks.

You were too happy to remember to show him the news you had found out a few days ago.

The blue stick with two lines on it.

[impactrueno]

Beetlejuice and Lydia (everyone grown and consenting of course) are similar to the dynamic of Nelson and Lisa yes?

oh you went for the throat with that one LMAO

i know why you're saying it but no, i don't think so. i guess it highly depends on which beetlejuice and lydia we're talking about here.

"to be loved is to be changed" is a fav trope of mine that i like to see applied to antagonistic characters because i'm a huge sucker for redemption arcs. i like to apply it to nelson and lisa, but i've also been applying it to cartoon beetlejuice's friendship with lydia because this works platonically too! and in a very sweet way i think. they might've introduced me to the concept actually, now that i think about it.

there's something very comforting about a character who's antisocial or generally disliked by everyone and hates everyone back...but has a soft spot for the one person who can stand them and sees the good in them despite their rough exterior. this person can be anyone; a friend (their only friend most likely,) a younger sibling, adopted or found family, a lover, a secret crush, hell even a loyal pet. seeing characters gradually change for that one person because they realize they don't want to let them down or just by positive influence, is SOOOO GOOODDDDDD

ok but circling back to your question. i know you said grown and consenting implying like a romantic thing but the only ones i could see having anything remotely close to a romance are movie bj and lydia and they...don't really have that type of dynamic at all. i don't think, at least. i haven't actually given it much thought. i've been seeing them a particular way for 20 years and now the sequel comes and flips the whole thing on its head so i'm trying to process that still. i've been working with their dynamic as close to the movies canon as i can, and in canon lydia doesn't see any good in him, actually, probably the opposite lol. he saved her daughter and kicked rory's ass but she still wants nothing to do with him. so they're out of the question for that type of dynamic.

so let's talk platonically because, again, it's a dynamic that works for any type of relationship imo. i think musical bj is a great candidate for "to be loved is to be changed" but not with lydia....because this lydia doesn't really care to "fix him" or anything. she's a bit wicked herself, so i'm thinking if he became "good" she would find him boring and wouldn't want to hang out anymore LMAO

so that leaves cartoon bj and lyds, which like i said, pretty much introduced me to the concept. i think lydia and lisa are very similar. bj and nelson are also both the type to laugh at others misfortune but kick your ass if you mess with the people they care about, while being softies on the inside. lydia and lisa both try to keep bj and nelson in line because they care about them (in lisa's case she's also controlling,) but sometimes they can be let down because of how untamable they can be sometimes. "to be loved is to be changed" but you can't try to change the one you love. the concept is only worth doing if the person who changes does so organically on their own, sometimes even without realizing. by the time they realize things are different, it's already too late, they're already too devoted to this person who somehow managed to make them less of a piece of shit.

to sum up, yes they are similar, specifically in the cartoon, but not in a romantic way. and yes i have a huge soft spot for this trope

[besidesitstoowarm]

so i'll talk about this more tomorrow when i put up my "amy's choice" write up but i am thinkingggg about moffat's characterization vs davies

like with rory and mickey. rory is obviously the mickey, the back-home boyfriend getting ditched in favor of the doctor. but the thing with mickey is like... he's a good reason to leave, not to stay. he's kind of a loser, implied in the first episode to be cheating (telling rose not to check his email) before she even meets the doctor! he's the tin dog, mickey the idiot. he represents everything rose is tired of. she straight up never seems to care about him ever, and the doctor openly mocks him, and even the narrative doesn't seem interested in giving him interiority or sympathy

vs rory. rory is a legitimately good option: good career, kind, gentle, intelligent, handsome (mickey was also handsome, to be fair). he's the antithesis of the doctor, but he's not presented as the worse option, just very different. he has the doctor dead. to. rights. immediately! "you make people a danger to themselves" and that will carry on, past "you forget that not every victory is about saving the world" he's like the Reasonable One

the potential danger of traveling with the doctor is treated as an inevitable minor footnote in the davies era, i feel like. it's always there but it's rarely Real. rose was so borderline suicidal i'm amazed she only got trapped in another dimension, martha dipped cause his ass was pathetic, donna was literally railroaded and never had a real choice. but amy? amy feels like she's in real danger of losing rory, she does lose her daughter, she DIES in the end. and clara dies. and bill– like the consequences are real. they make their choice, and their choice makes them. obviously all of them are in danger in any given episode but it feels like the moffat companions really play that out to the inevitable conclusion

and i feel like his companions have faults and traits that actually... matter? like with davies companions we do learn a lot about their lives in terms of jobs and skills and family, but less about deep character flaws, about ethos. i do love them but halfway through s5, the obvious impact on the story that amy's abandonment issues have feels genuinely unmatched by earlier companions. she's savage! she's nasty! she is given a trolley problem and chooses murder suicide bc either her life is a lie or her husband is dead and life isn't worth living. it's deranged. in the davies era it felt like i was piecing together characters and arcs on my own, picking up my own observations, it feels far more passive than it does with amy so far. amy is deliberate, her character arc and growth is very active. clara and the doctor get so codependent she tries to kill him and then dies horrifically. like it's insane

none of this is meant to shit on the davies era. i enjoyed it a lot and love all his companions (except adam but he doesn't count) and obviously the moffat era couldn't have been what it was without davies preceding, but i'm really remembering why moffat's era is my fave. it feels so intentional, so rich, it is exactly what i personally want out of a story. i love s5 so much

[sxljcel]

Difficult night...🩸(Hungry!Rory Keaner x Reader)

First of all, let me know that this is my first one-shot, and in another language that is not my original one! I apologize in advance for spelling mistakes, discomfort to the reader and errors in the plot of the history. Thank you for reading! 🦒

Context: Rory comes to your house after wasting his energy in a fight and without having eaten anything. Without any choice, you must do your part to save your vampire boyfriend.

Warnings: Blood streak, swearing, addiction, Rory herself.

To begin with, that day had not been normal. As your boyfriend Rory had told you, that day he and his friends had a big fight with a group of foreign vampires who had gone to cause trouble in the village. Luckily, they managed to eliminate them in time, but Rory had ended up spending more energy than necessary helping in the fight...

Now, after that big confrontation, Rory decided to call you on the phone to ask if she could come and rest with you that night, since she wasn't feeling well at all. Since you thought it was a simple whim of your boyfriend, you said yes, as long as his mother knew.

In a matter of seconds he was already knocking on your bedroom window. He seemed really agitated, although you were aware that that wasn't possible.

Rory shuffled towards you and wrapped you in a tight hug as he inhaled your delicious scent. Then, you both talked about your days and just lay down together in your bed, you to sleep and him to try to clear his mind of what happened...

In the middle of the night you woke up suddenly, to the grunting and movements that Rory kept making next to you. When you turned around, he had his back to you, squirming with concern. You asked him if he was okay, and he answered:

"I'm so hungry... My stomach is bothering me more than usual!"

You tried to find the logical solution, but you didn't know what your boyfriend was really going through. "And why don't you go hunt something outside? I'll wait for you here."

"That's the problem. I already went hunting for all the squirrels and rats I found out there but nothing seems to be working. This is seriously starting to hurt."

You thought as you saw your boyfriend still with his back to you. Remembering how I had told you the story of that afternoon with the vampires, the only idea that came to mind was that Rory's hunger She was more serious than a couple of small animals. Maybe something bigger could help him... Something more applied to his «needs».

"Rory, look at me."

He refused, shaking his head. You knew him too well to know that he had his eyes closed.

"Rory, look at me now! Please"

De la manera más lenta y abrupta de la historia, Rory se giró con los ojos cerrados y las manos hundidas en el pecho. Parecía estar sufriendo mucho. Dudaste antes de proponerle tu idea, ya que sabías que era arriesgada, pero ya no podías ver a tu novio así sin hacer nada al respecto.

"Rory, I want you to bite me."

Your boyfriend opened his eyes wide, almost looking into your soul, as he frowned and sat on the bed, moving away from you.

"What!? Are you crazy? No! I'm not going to touch you even a hair"

"Rory, you're starving! And I have the blood you need." You got up to sit next to him, but he walked away almost instantly, crashing his back against your window next to the bed.

"Don't say it! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Rory covered her ears and closed her eyes tightly again.

"Rory, don't be childish." You removed your hands from his ears and stared into his eyes until he opened his. He looked scared, you could see it in his face.

"I don't want to kill you, I don't care how hungry I am, I'm not going to touch you!"

"You're going to have to do it if you don't want to starve yourself, although I don't know if that's possible..."

Rory looked at you suspiciously, because he knew that he didn't have good self-control when it came to human blood, much less one that smelled so good and was in abundance for him.

"But if I leave you dry and I can't save you? I would never forgive myself."

"Rory, let's be honest, you have fallen in love with a different girl every day of your life before we met. If something happens to me, you'll most likely forget it within a week." Rory made the most offended face she could muster at that moment, scowling like an angry grandfather.

"No! How can you think that about me? I love you!"

"I love you too Rory, so stop make this harder than it already is and suck my fucking blood!" Without thinking twice you took Rory's face in your hands and brought his mouth closer to your exposed neck, letting all your scent hit Rory's nose like a bullet, stimulating him immediately pulling his sharp fangs out of his mouth and rubbing them against your bare skin.

"Ah... Don't make me do this!" He moaned as his hand intentionally landed on the other side of your neck, squeezing just enough to leave a mark. His voice trembled like his entire body, and it sounded deeper than usual.

"Hurry before I regret it, Rory."

They remained silent like that, you waiting and him undecided about what to do. He breathed deeply into your neck, inhaling as much as he could of your lovely scent that was so hypnotizing to him.

"Do you promise that if anything goes wrong... Your spirit will torment me for the rest of eternity until I am killed?" Rory murmured, reaching your ears as a final surrender.

You smiled silently, tilting your head further to the opposite side, giving him more space to bite. "I promise you"

The silence stretched before Rory pulled away from your neck roughly. You pulled away from him disappointed.

"Wait, I better bite you somewhere else, I don't want to sink my teeth into your jugular by accident..." Rory took your bare arm and caressed it as if it were a soft cloth. He brought his nose close to the veins in your wrist and sniffed deeply at their aroma, sighing heavily as if he were getting high with your smell. "Have I told you how delicious you smell? You're like my personal brand of kryptonite..." Rory left the long kiss on your hand, leaving a small path towards your knuckles and then returning to your wrist.

"You couldn't last a minute without saying something nerdy, right?"

"I'm sorry, I had to take advantage of the opportunity..." He smiled at you with his glistening fangs out and his eyes locked with yours before returning to your forearm.

Rory licked her lips before opening her mouth wide near your forearm just below your marked veins on your wrist. You closed your eyes with sneakers and waited for the pain. "Promise me you'll scream if it hurts."

"Yes Rory, I get it!"

"Okay...Anxious"

You felt Rory's teeth graze your skin, making it crawl completely. Suddenly the stinging pain began to spread through your forearm, as if a large wasp were stinging you. Then he began to suck the blood like a syringe. Rory grunted in pleasure as he increased the pressure on his hands on your arm, deepening his bite at the same time. You weren't going to lie to yourself, it hurt, it hurt so much, but you knew that your boyfriend's life depended on this and your joy at being able to help him outweighed your pain.

Rory for her part seemed to be enjoying the moment now, starting to let strings of saliva fall from your forearm onto your sheets as she swallowed drop by drop of your precious nectar.

You began to feel dizziness that intensified until you began to see blurry. With all your strength you raised your other arm towards your boyfriend's blonde hair and pulled him in the opposite direction to your forearm. Rory seemed to object for a moment, growling like a cat with a steak in its mouth, the feeling inside your veins unsettling. You hit his hair a couple of times and pulled his hair until ripping out a few strands of his hair, that's when he stopped and released your arm from his teeth.

"Ouch! Why did you do that? I told you to scream if it hurt." Rory rubbed his head where you had pulled out the small strands of hair. His bloody teeth gave you a bit of an impression, although you always thought your boyfriend looked sexy in blood. running down his lips and chin.

You had trouble speaking, your eyes felt heavy, and the bite continued to bleed. You tried to speak but nothing but incomprehensible moans came out of your mouth. Finally your head fell into your hands of Rory.

"Oh no! No, no, no, no. Wake up, don't close your eyes, talk to me darling, tell me you're okay!" Rory patted your cheek as she opened her eyes and shook you, she was panicking. She ran out and came back a second and a half later with a bottle of water and a bag of chips.

"Here! Drink it all" Rory held the bottle for you since you were too weak to hold it yourself. You spit out the water when you almost drowned and wet his entire sheet, again.

"Don't worry, do not worry everything will be fine" You smiled at the thought that Rory was giving you words of support. "Pretend you know what you're doing, don't panic Rory" Your face couldn't show all your disappointment at all.

The rest of the night passed with Rory bandaging your wound, leaving kisses on it and all over your body while you tried to regain strength with the food that he brought you from time to time. You knew he still wasn't completely satisfied since vampires always thirst for blood, but at least the pain was no longer present in either of you.

"Precious, thank you for saving my life. I swear that your blood is the most delicious I have ever tasted after Ethan's blood."

"At what moment did you-?"

"Shh, don't waste your little energy on stupid questions. Better rest, sweetheart."

Rory covered you with the warm sheets of your bed as he cradled you in his chest and caressed your cheek gently. From that moment you knew that he was not capable of killing you even by accident.

[the-entity-down-the-street]

Okay so. The New Beetlejuice Movie.

I have thoughts about Lydia and Beetz, and how Beetlejuice's feelings developed for her.

Yes. I ship them. I don't think I've come out and said it yet, but yeah I'm one of those. Block me if it bothers you. Winona and Micheal ship it, too. For the record.

Analysis under the cut

Okay folks. So, I don't believe for a second that Beetlejuice loved her in the first movie. He doesn't know her, barely interacts with her, doesn't care about her outside of having a means to an end. You can see this in how he treats the wedding, too. He rushes it and does everything in his power to stop everyone from saying his name. I don't even think they had a cake?

Now, this isn't to say he isn't intrigued by Lydia.

"I think I could get along with Edgar Allen Poe's daughter, she gets me."

Let's be real, though. He's a scumbag and a sex pest in the first movie.

This is in stark contrast to the sequel. He calls Lydia the love of his life, keeps a photo of her on his desk, fulfills all his promises to her, helps her get revenge on Rory *after* making him tell the truth about his motivations, and the DANCE SEQUENCE?? If his goal was just to escape the Netherworld, he'd have rushed the wedding vows and gotten it over with as quick as possible. And considering he has *more* motivation to get out than the first movie-- Delores coming to kill him, for real, permenantly-- that makes the second wedding even more romantic. He is down BAD bad.

So, how did we get here?

That's what I've been puzzling over for past couple days. I think it has something to do with the psychic connection Beetlejuice mentions to Bob.

@herefortheships has an excellent post that helped fill in the "why" of the psychic connection. Lydia can see all kinds of ghosts. What makes Beetlejuice different?

It's because they almost completed the wedding in the first movie. Sure, Lydia never said "I do", but they were almost there, and with this marriage ceremony being so powerful as to bring the dead back to life, even an interrupted wedding forms a link between them. Beetlejuice being such a powerhouse himself, and Lydia being naturally psychic, probably strengthens it. The closest comparsion I'd make is never closing out with a Ouija board. A very powerful, horny Ouija board.

So, this gives Beetlejuice a chance to get to know Lydia over the years. He watches her grow up, with a set of ghost parents no less. He sees her powers strengthen, and how she goes on to start a show utilizing her gift. I wonder if the show inspired Beetlejuice to start his own business?

She becomes a wife, a mother, a fully rounded adult who never loses her adoration of the macabre. I think he sees what he originally saw in Delores, and it ignites something, for lack of a better term, long-dead within him. Lydia is a much better person than Delores, too, and Beetlejuice knows that. After all, she originally agreed to marry him to save her (already dead) friends.

No wonder he's fucking smack dizzy in love. He softens, becomes a marginally more respectable person. Keeping a picture of teenage Lydia on his desk is objectively creepy, but that's also when he saw her in person last, so it makes sense.

Something else I noticed, and this kind of a tangent, but it's interesting.

He only started appearing to her again recently. Like, she'd felt him around the corners, but it's only around the start of the film that he tries to actively get her attention. I have a theory as to why. In part, he wanted to make himself better for her before making a grand entrance (reputable businessman and all), but there's something else that's more obvious.

Rory. He knows Rory's bad news, and I wouldn't be surprised if he used his connection with Lydia to spy on him. Beetlejuice probably knew he was planning to marry Lydia for her money soon. Now, he couldn't talk to her properly due to her blatantly trying to push him out, but he could still be loudly present.

Notice how when Rory summons him, Beetlejuice presents as a relationship counselor. He even says "I think there's an enabler here, but we'll talk about that later," which I think is because he wants Rory to know he sees through the emotionally manipulative bullshit.

I think he also knows Lydia was not going to believe him if he said Rory was a creep. I mean, why would she? Beetlejuice bides his time with gross out gags and other typical Beetlejuice antics. It's only after he's proven himself honest enough to stay true to his word by saving Astrid and sending her boyfriend to hell that he gives Rory the truth syrum.

He's really, really grown to genuinely love Lydia, way more than he ever loved Delores I'd say, and it's because he's fallen in love with the woman he got to watch her become.

[athenasdaydreams]

pairing: jess mariano x fem!reader

summary: jess does not want to, and would never dance. except this one time

chapter warnings: none to my knowledge!!

A/N: Guess what dumbass pressed ctrl z and deleted all her work so she had to type it out again. OKAY IT'S BEEN A WHOLE YEAR SINCE I POSTED OR SOMETHING BUT I GOT TIRED OF STUDYING AND DECIDED TO FINISH THIS UP TO TIE UP SOME LOOSE ENDS

You had your legs on a table of Luke's diner, and you could not fathom how anyone could ever be more bored than this. You had to sit through Liz Danes' bachelorette party. You could imagine anything that would have been better than this. Being out with Rory and Paris, talking to Lorelai, or even letting Michel show you pictures of his chow chows. Letting out a sigh, you went back to reading Anna Karenina while the middle-aged women were talking about women not being monogamous creatures. "Is this how turkey legs are supposed to look?" Luke asked with a pained expression on his face. Carrie, one of the louder ones, said something about him taking his pants off so they could see for themselves. As much as you hated it, their conversations were kind of interesting. "Get your legs off my table I've got customers eating on 'em," Luke scolded as he looked at the turkey leg in his hand, as if he hoped that it would tell him whether it was cooked or not. You put your legs down and continued reading.

"I need to get some batteries, I'll be back," Jess said as he walked down the stairs. He noticed you were at the diner and stopped in his tracks. "Didn't know that you liked spending your afternoons with middle aged women." That comment made Carrie and the other women gasp. "The old ladies I wanted to knit with were busy, so I had to find company."

"Good book though," He said while you hummed in response. "Jess, Jess! Come over here and meet my oldest friends!" Liz said as she beckoned him over. Jess looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. "Girls, this is Jess," Liz said proudly. A chorus of 'hellos' sounded. "Hello, handsome," Carrie said as she winked. You had to stifle a laugh for the sake of Jess. "He's going to walk me down the aisle! Is that cool or what?" Liz said to her group.

"It's no big deal," Jess said, trying to draw away attention from him. You found this funny. "It's a very big deal," you said with a dramatic look on your face. Jess gave an unimpressed look. At that time, a deliveryman walked through the door.

"Can I help you?" Luke asked with the confusion written across his face. "Got a package here." "From who? I'm not expecting anything?"

"It's a very important package," the deliveryman said with a serious look on his face. Luke stepped closer. "But there's no address on it?"

Jess smirked as he looked over to you. "I was going to go to the bookstore after getting batteries. Care to join?" he said, extending his hand to you. Looking for any way to escape this situation, you obliged. "Bye Luke, see you later."

"Have fun," Jess said with a laugh as you left the diner and heard a muffled "Have fun with what?!" as music started blaring from the inside.

-

"I was already having a bad day and then some guy had to spill his coffee all over my new blouse and my copy of crime and punishment," you lamented to Jess while you walked towards the bookstore which you frequented. "I didn't have enough money to get myself a new copy and a new blouse, so I decided to get the blouse because of my internship." Jess smiled at that. You were hardworking and diligent, while he was... less of that. You just got the coveted internship at one of the most competitive law firms in Connecticut, and you needed to make a good impression; a shiny copy of crime and punishment accompanied by a coffee stained lavender blouse wouldn't exactly do that.

The jingle of the door chime woke you from your thoughts about your precious copy of crime and punishment. Jess bent his head and didn't say anything to Kirk, the acting cashier, while you smiled and greeted him. You knew he wasn't one for politeness, so you tried to compensate.

"There's something I think you'll like." Jess meandered towards a shelf hidden at the back. You cluelessly trailed, wondering what book it could be. Knowing Jess, it could be a 2000 page book about a whale or a 20 page romance novel; the man read anything and everything with words on it. When he pulled a book off a shelf, your jaw dropped.

The blood-red lettering reading "crime and punishment" contrasted starkly to the obsidian binding that you ran your fingertips across.

"wow, this must cost a fortune, maybe i'll get it once my paycheck can get me more than one cup of instant ramen."

"let's go, i need to see what the guy at the diner did to luke,"

-

"does this dress look like too much?" you ask while twirling around in front of Lorelai. "no, this one is perfect. It makes you look like you'd be sitting in a tower waiting for your prince to save you from a dragon." You looked at her while she lounged on the couch in the house you had graciously invited yourself into. Well, she wasn't wrong. The dress was a light blue, silky fabric billowing around your ankles. The sleeves added to the whimsicalness of the dress. "only if the prince was Jesse Bradford,"

"you know what would make Prince Bradford fall in love with you even more? this flower crown," Lorelai said as she got up and pulled out a pretty-looking headband from a shelf. She put it on you and turned you towards a mirror.

"rory never let me dress her up like a princess; i should adopt you."

-

"hear ye, hear ye! announcing the arrival of her Royal Highness, the Princess, finally gracing us with her presence!"

"shut up, i was five minutes late; being a princess is hard work, you should know," you joked to Jess. You two met up near the gazebo, his reasoning being that he needed to make fun of you all dressed up as long as he could before he had to walk his mom down the aisle. "do you want to go get a seat? you're gonna be here for a long time. or maybe not, i've only been to three of my mom's weddings. "aren't you gonna sit down too?" you asked. "my mom wants me there to give her "emotional support" whatever that means," he joked as he led you to a seat next to lorelai and luke. Carrie from the diner yesterday was talking to them. lorelai looked concerned and luke just looked uncomfortable.

"hey, is everything alright?"

"no, there's gonna be a delay since liz ripped her dress and it's gonna take some time to fix it," carrie explained. "she told me to spread the message,"

"well, spread it car." luke got a suggestive look from carrie. "the message, the message." When carrie walked away, luke looked like he hadn't gotten oxygen in a good five minutes. "that woman makes me uncomfortable."

"poor liz, does she know how to fix something like that?" you asked jess and luke. "she was never one for household skills-" "i used to stitch up her renaissance fair costumes. trust me, she can't" jess interrupted luke. "i'll go see if she needs some help. where did you say she was?"

"she's at miss patty's,

-

You could hear Liz's laments from outside miss patty's. "my dress is ruined! how am i going to get married in a torn dress?" you pushed open the doors to Miss Patty's and gave Liz a concerned look. "I heard you needed some help? can i do anything for you Liz?" you asked, moving over to take a look at her dress. "I'm such a klutz, i tripped standing up and now its torn," she held up the side of her dress where there was an obvious tear. You grimaced and picked up the Doose's brand sewing kit from the table next to her, attempting to fix her dress.

"There you go! as good as new," you finished up the last stitch on her dress. "Oh, you're such a darling," Liz fixed up her hair. "you'd make a great daughter in law to a lucky lady someday. Could you tell jess to get ready for my grand entrance?"

The implied message didn't go past you. With cheeks redder than what your dollar store blush could get you, you thanked her and went down to the gazebo.

-

The ceremony passed by quickly, with you and Jess trying to think of sad and miserable things to make you stop laughing at the proceedings. "Oh man, i swear to you my wedding's gonna be better than whatever that was," you said, wiping the tears of laughter from your eyes as everyone went to the buffet line to get some food. "We'll see that," jess said as he inspected a turkey leg before putting it on his plate. You gave him an offended look. "Do you not think my wedding would be so much better than this 1500s medieval thing going on out here? I'd totally pick out a better theme," you said as you piled some mysterious looking food onto your plate. "I highly doubt that, and I hope you know that what you're putting on your plate is minced liver."

Your hand froze right right before you almost dumped another spoonful food onto your plate. You promptly pushed off the whole serving of minced liver back into the serving bowl. "That was so uncouth of you, private school girl. Did they not teach you manners at your finishing school?" You elbowed jess in the side as you chose a much more appetising looking burger prepared specially, from luke's. "one, i'm in college now; two let's sit down. I don't think they taught you table manners either city boy,"

-

After finishing up your dinner, you two decided to walk around to socialise. If socialise meant to make fun of every person in renaissance attire.

"the guy in the pantaloons probably thinks energy drinks count as water," jess pressed his lips to your ear, narrowly missing your cheek because of how much you were laughing. Everyone must have thought you two were drunk or high, from how hard you two were laughing. That was when you heard medieval sounding music playing where everyone had gathered.

"jess. you have to dance to this. i physically need to see it," you clung onto his arm, bringing him to the area near the gazebo, where Liz and TJ were dancing. They were doing some complicated looking dance straight out of the middle ages. "no way am i doing that. i'd rather slam my tongue in a car door." "please...?" "no." "...pretty please?" "fine, but you're coming out there with me." and before you could say no, he'd already dragged you to the dancefloor.

you'd be lying if you said you didn't have fun embarrassing yourselves. you'd only been dragged out of the dancefloor because TJ wanted to seranade Liz with a special dance just for her, and boy, were you glad you didn't have to see that.

-

Jess was walking you over to the gilmore house, where you'd been crashing with lorelai since your exams had been over. You, being a rich international student who's parents knew Richard and Emily Gilmore, had been asked to stay with them when you went to Chilton, and to Yale subsequently. Of course you could always tell them that your exams hadn't ended yet, and you were still staying at Yale, but where's the fun in that? You, lorelai, and rory, were planning on having a weekend of binging old movies and junking on the most unhealthy food you could find, so being a few days early wasn't a problem.

"after this is back to new york?" you asked him while approaching the door of lorelai's house. "maybe not, this time. might stay here for a bit; it's not that bad," he responded, leaning on the door. "any plans for summer?" you looked up at him. "you know, i've always wanted a summer romance. you know the type you read in the books, the notebook and stuff like that," you played with the straps of your purse. "maybe that'll be one of my plans," he said as he grabbed your waist and held you right up to him. "want it to be longer than just summer though." he pressed his lips to yours as he ran his fingers through your hair. you took a second to react, but you were kissing him back too. when you pulled apart for air, breathing heavy, you smiled.

"can't wait"

wc: 2.1k

[iamnotoriginalphil]

A Tale Told in Three Parts (Lydia Deetz x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Each of the Deetz women gets a glimpse into your relationship with Lydia.

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: mentions of toxic relationships, angst

i) Astrid

After the disastrous wake for her grandfather, Astrid was doing her best to avoid Rory and her mother. She wanted to return to school and not be forced to watch the farce of her mother’s life. By extension, she was doing her best to avoid you too. Another one of the people caught up in her mother’s world, she hardly wanted to give you any more thought than she had to.

Still, when she came upon you being so careful as you packed up her grandfather’s possessions, it was hard to hate you.

You’d been in her mother’s orbit for a few years now. She’d never quite been sure of your purpose. Caught somewhere between assistant and friend, you were always in the background, watching and listening, but staying out of the fray. She couldn’t blame you. It’s not as if she wanted to be involved with anything her mother was doing.

But unlike her mother, you would smile and let her sit in silence, and not ask her probing questions in an attempt to force emotional intimacy she didn’t want. Unlike Rory. She could do with less attempts to be her friend from him.

“Hey, did you need something?” you asked, noticing her lingering in the doorway.

“No,” she said.

“Okay.”

You went back to the box, delicately placing an object wrapped in bubble wrap inside. With both hands on your hips, baggy jeans and old worn t-shirt, you looked out of place in the house and in the family. You looked… normal. She couldn’t work out why you were still there, with her mother, letting your life be ruled by such insanity.

“There you are.”

You glanced up again, a smile spreading over your face. Your eyes focused on something over her shoulder, your entire face brightening. Astrid rolled her eyes, turning away, brushing past her mother. Lingering for a moment, she could hear your soft voice, answering whatever it was her mother was saying.

“He said something about getting more boxes,” you said, your voice hardening for a moment.

Maybe that was part of the reason she found you less insufferable than her mother. You made it no secret that you didn’t respect Rory or even particularly like him. She’d heard enough snide comments under your breath to know that, in least in that respect, you were on the same wavelength as her.

Slipping away, she left you to your own bad life decisions. It wasn’t anything to do with her. Not really. She had no interest in whatever was going on.

Even if the way you’d smiled upon seeing her mother was the way her dad used to smile at her too.

A few hours later, as she haunted the upper levels of the house, she happened to glance out the window. Wrinkling her nose at her mother standing on the grass, staring down at the town, she was ready to turn away and go back to ignoring her existence. She paused, a shadow rippling across the grass towards her mother.

She jumped, turning with a disgruntled look on her face. Your smile was wide enough for her to see it from her perch in the upper levels of the house as you approached her mother. A similar smile broke over her mother’s face and she felt something uncomfortable shift under her skin. That smile was almost familiar. One she could almost see as if a dream running through her fingers, hazy from childhood memories.

You said something that made her mother’s shoulders tense again before she seemed to make a concerted effort to relax them. You took another step forward, entering into her personal space, the way so many people never seemed comfortable doing with her mother. Herself being one of those people after everything.

She lingered, an ache in her chest, a bittersweet feeling dripping through her veins. The longer she watched, the more it grew. It wasn’t as if the two of you were doing more than talking. But the way your bodies were curved towards one another, seemingly unaware of anyone else on the property made it seem like it was more.

She watched, almost in slow motion, as your hand reached out, finger gently tapping the tip of her mother’s nose. It wrinkled and your head tipped back as you laughed. Even through the glass from so far away, she could hear it, bright and sunny and so full of joy. Her mother’s face melted into something soft, her lips tugging up in the corners into a small smile. She hadn’t seen that look in so long.

Her heart gave a pang and she turned away. It shouldn’t matter what her mother did with you. You weren’t the one she was choosing to marry. You weren’t the one leeching off her family. You weren’t the one that was ruining her life.

Yet, the feeling lingered long after she’d stopped watching you with her mother.

ii) Delia

Grief was a many pronged thing. Sitting in it was incomprehensible. The house, a constant reminder of all Delia had lost. She could use it. As an artist, exploring her inner feelings was as natural as breathing. Something good could come from all the pain she was forced to feel.

Only the house was full of people and she wasn’t sure what to think about it. Astrid was a relief in many ways, and Lydia was no longer a thorn in her side, but Rory was an active dark cloud on there periphery. You, in amongst all that swirling angst, were a breath of fresh air.

She’d met you a number of times before. One of her step-daughter’s entourage, you were a nice balance to the absolute bullshit that came spewing out of Rory’s mouth. Softer spoken, kinder, straightforward and caring in a way that spoke to the warmth of your soul, she appreciated your presence far more than her soon to be step-son-in-law’s. You offered more comfort in her moment of need. You were happy to take a backseat to her own grief, to let her art shine the way it deserved.

It would be wrong to say she hadn’t developed a soft spot for you. It would be hard not to when compared to Rory. It helped that, while the sleaze of a fiancee Lydia had ended up with tried to ingratiate himself in the family, you offered a steadying force without announcing your intention. In their time of need, you were a rock she was happy to have in the house.

You were sitting on the floor, legs crossed in front of you as you sorted through a large collection of books she hadn’t wanted to touch. Piles surrounded you, carefully wiping dust off each one with a gentle touch. It’s like you knew everything of Charles’ was precious, that a part of him remained in what he left behind.

It was something Rory would never be able to understand.

You looked up, eyes widening before settling into a small smile when you saw her lingering in the doorway. Head tilted up to watch her walk into the room, you placed the book in your hand into the open box in front of you.

“Did you need something, Mrs Deetz?” you asked.

That was another thing. You were always respectful towards her, a trait that had seemed to have passed by Rory without his notice. She definitely preferred your presence in Lydia’s life than the oaf of a man she’d hitched her cart to.

“No, no. I’m merely passing through in an attempt to capture the wistfulness of a life lost,” she said.

“I can give you the room, if you want,” you said, already rising to your feet to give her the space you thought she needed.

“You stay,” she said.

“Alright,” you said, but you didn’t resettle on the floor again.

As she floated through the room in an attempt to feel the way Charles had seeped into the foundations of the house, you made your way to another bookcase, pulling the tomes down. You worked in silence, not interrupting her communion with her husband.

Another thing Rory would never be able to manage.

“Do you have- oh.”

Delia glanced up. Lydia had managed to find her way into the room with the two of you, the familiar expression of anxiety and frustration on her face. You were careful as you placed the books down on the closest surface.

“What’s up?” you asked.

“I was looking for… it’s not important,” she said, already backing away again.

You stepped forward, lowering your voice as you drew closer to her.

“Lyds, come on, what is it?” you asked.

She shook her head and you sighed. Your hand rested on her shoulder, drawing even closer.

“Front pocket,” you murmured, “and I have the prescription hidden amongst my things if he throws them out again.”

Lydia seemed to relax, her eyes slipping closed as she let out a long breath. You squeezed her shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” you said.

“I can’t…” Lydia raised an unsteady hand to her eyes, pressing it in.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said, “whatever it is, we can get through it.”

“He’s back,” she said, almost a whisper, “he’s in the model.”

This again. Delia was tired of hearing of the demon who had terrorised her poor family all those years ago.

“We’ll get rid of it,” you said, your hand rubbing along her arm, “it’ll be okay.”

“Why won’t he leave me alone?” she groaned, turning away from you.

The way you looked at her was like you you could understand why someone would become fixated on her. It was such a look of longing she wanted to capture it for all to see. An ache, bittersweet, yearning in every line of your face. It was such an open expression of vulnerability, the exact kind of emotion she was trying to capture in her art. And it was all there on your face, for anyone to see, except the person it was directed at.

It was art in its purest form.

“I need a moment,” Lydia said, striding out without looking back at you.

She watched as your body almost crumpled in on itself, spine curling and shoulders hunching. One deep breath then another before you straightened. You turned, blinking when you saw her standing there, watching you with pity in her eyes.

“Sorry,” you said, returning to the books.

“What are you apologising for? Emotion is the fabric of humanity and it is an artist’s job to capture it,” she said.

“Please don’t capture this,” you said, “it will only end in disaster.”

“Are you sure? It’s rather potent on you,” she said.

“I’d rather play out my heartbreak in privacy, if it’s all the same to you,” you said.

“There is no reason for heartbreak,” she said.

“I’m completely smitten with Lydia. How can it end in anything but my heartbreak?” you asked, “she’s marrying someone else tonight.”

“The curtain has yet to be drawn. Tell her. I’d much prefer you join this family than Rory,” she said.

“It’s not really about what you’d prefer though, is it?” you said, the note of resentment clear in your voice.

“She might prefer it too,” she said, “you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“I know enough,” you muttered.

You lingered a little longer, finishing up your work with the books before slipping away. The front door slammed and she considered watching you from a window, to luxuriate in the pain and longing and consider how she would express it in her work. Instead, she turned back to her own project.

A nice distraction could never end the ever suffering of her grief.

iii) Lydia

There was something to be said for a wedding interrupted. The aftermath was always something to behold. Still, two weddings aborted in a single night was a record, even by Lydia’s standards. A second trip into the Neitherworld had reminded her of the joy of life, the way her blood pumped in her veins and the time she still had left on Earth. To share it with her daughter, coming out of it with the gap between them beginning to be bridged, was full circle with her teenage self returning with a new outlook on living.

By the next morning, the overwhelming feelings were crashing into her again. Delia was gone, Rory was gone, Beetlejuice was still lingering in her unconscious mind. Astrid was more opening to her attempts to talk. You were doing your best to give her the space you thought she needed. In the space of one night, her entire world had been turned on its head, and she was trying to adjust.

She didn’t want the space you were giving her. She didn’t want that one thing to change. She’d never wanted that thing to change.

You slid a plate of food in front of her, pancakes drizzled in some kind of fruit syrup. Astrid had taken hers into the living room, curling up on one of the old armchairs that would be coming with them to their home when they left. She had taken up space in her father’s study.

“You didn’t have dinner last night so don’t fight me on this,” you said.

She sighed, taking the cutlery from your hands. Your finger under her chin tilted her face towards you, seemingly taking her emotional temperature. You gave her a small smile as you let her go.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need something,” you said.

She caught your wrist, keeping you from leaving.

“Stay?” she asked.

You looked down at her, considering her request before you nodded. You sunk into one of the chairs on the far side of the room. Fiddling with your phone, she wondered if there was a reason you were avoiding looking at her. Your eyes flicked up and you looked stricken at being caught before you relaxed into a smile.

“I haven’t poisoned that, you know,” you said, nodding at her plate.

She took a bite, your eyes lingering before you nodded again. It wasn’t often she couldn’t figure out what you were thinking, usually so good at reading you. The longer you’d been in this house, the less she’d been able to. She didn’t want to think about it.

But then you looked up again and something in your face softened, fondness in every line of your face. Something in her chest broke open, delicate warmth spreading through her body. It was like the sun had come out from behind the clouds, illuminating every inch of her psyche she’d kept locked up and hidden in the shadows.

Her heart thumped hard in her chest, bruised and battered, and yet still beating. Your lips spread in a smile, the kind that was tired and soft and spoke to the years of intimacy you’d built with her. It was the kind of look she’d been searching for for so many years. How had she never noticed when it was right under her nose?

It had crept up on her so slowly there’d been no reason to pay attention to it. The way you were a steadying hand, keeping her upright, helping her through every moment when she was worried she’d break apart. The way she sought you out when the anxiety got too bad, her eyes scanning the room until they found you. The way you made everything easier without fanfare or an expectation of gratitude.

The way she breathed easier around you.

Blinking at you, it all crashed into her. The events of the last few days should have left her weary and broken, but this was the moment something in her snapped. This was a step too far.

To have fallen in love without even noticing was not meant to be the conclusion to two disastrous weddings, a funeral, and a trip to the Neitherworld.

She turned her attention back to the stack of pancakes you’d made her, brought to her, thinking about her needs even after everything. When was the last time someone else had done that?

“These are good,” she mumbled.

“My grandma’s recipe. She made them every Christmas morning. They taste like childhood joy to me and I figured we could all do with some of that,” you replied.

Her heart squeezed at that. It was so simple. You wanted to give her a bit of your childhood joy, to share with her something that might lift her spirits, to give her something beautiful without asking for something in return. And wasn’t that just a wonderful metaphor for her entire relationship with you.

You shifted in the chair and she realised she was staring at you. Looking away, she took another bite, the warmth of your kindness doing more for her than the actual food. There was no indication you felt even a fraction of the same thing she did. This was how you’d always been with her. You’d always been so soft with her. She hadn’t always deserved it.

“Thank you,” she said, voice quiet, staring down at her plate.

“Any time,” you said, “you know I’ve always got you.”

She was beginning to realise exactly how true that was. Later, after you’d drifted away to give her that space you seemed so sure she needed, she found herself sitting in Delia’s chair, staring out at the town spread out down below. Astrid was keeping close for the time being while you were exploring the surroundings. She lent back, looking up at the sky, hoping Delia had found her father in the Neitherworld and moved to the Great Beyond. The thought of them together for eternity had to be some comfort in the face of her own lose.

Laughter floated towards her on the breeze. Turning her attention down, she found you in your old jeans and soft t-shirt walking through the grass. Your head was tipped up and you paused, a smile stretching over your face as you sought out the sun. The long line of your neck was on full display and she felt her mouth grow dry.

“You might want to wipe the drool away.”

She startled, not having heard Astrid appear in the doorway. Her daughter seemed unimpressed with whatever she saw on her face.

“I don’t,” she began to say.

“It’s obvious to anyone with half a brain,” Astrid interrupted.

“Could you keep your voice down?” she asked.

She turned back to make sure you hadn’t heard anything her daughter had said. Your eyes were closed and your face was still tipped up to the sun but you seemed to be taking time to breath deeply. Her eyes lingered, staring at you in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to ever do before. Even before she’d realised her own feelings it had felt dangerous to look too long.

“You should just tell her,” Astrid said, leaning against the side of the house.

The tableau was hauntingly familiar, the same as just a few days ago between herself and Delia. Was this the cycle she was bound live for the rest of her life? Reliving her own relationship with Delia? There were worse things to live through, she supposed.

“I’m not doing that,” she said.

“Why not? You obviously like her. And she’s better than Rory. Even Delia thought so,” she said.

“You talked about this with Delia?” she asked, something uncomfortable sitting in her stomach.

“In passing. Shockingly, we had other things to talk about than your abysmal love life,” she said, “but we both liked her more than him.”

“I didn’t-“ she tried to say.

“Look, you should just tell her. Life is short and you never know when it’s going to end. Look at Delia. Look at Grandad. Look at Dad. No one expected them to die but they did and we were lucky to see Dad and Delia after they were gone to say goodbye properly but most people don’t get that. So tell her,” she said.

“We’re not talking about this,” she said, turning away again.

She couldn’t tell you. There was no possibility it would end well. The thought of having to go on without you, especially after everything that had just happened, made the panic rise in her. And if she told you that perhaps her feelings were more than what they seemed she was certain you’d pull away from her. She’d rather sit in the feeling with you in her life than lose you.

“I’m not enjoying it any more than you are but she makes you happy and I’m trying to be nice,” Astrid said.

“I’m not risking ruining what I have for more,” she said.

You were slow to lower your head, eyes squinting open. Raising a hand, you shaded your eyes as you looked up at the house. Your hand raised in a wave, hers automatically raising in response without thought. Astrid snorted.

“She likes you too. Just talk to her. It’s not that hard,” she said.

“Says the teenager who’s first date led to her almost giving up her life to let a dead murderer return to the world of the living,” she said.

“We’re all allowed to make mistakes. I haven’t given you shit for Rory,” she said.

“You gave me nothing but shit for Rory,” she replied, looking up at her.

“Rightfully so,” you said, coming up to them without her noticing. Her attention was severely lacking, it seemed, continually being snuck up on by the two people staying in the house with her.

“What?” she asked, on the wrong foot from the surprise.

“No offence, Lyds, but you deserve a bit of shit for Rory. He sucked and you were the only one who couldn’t see it.” You took a seat on the steps, looking up at her with one of those smiles that felt intimate and warm and fond, “sorry but you’re a total badass and you put up with that whimper of a man? You deserve some shit for that.”

“You never said anything,” she said, taken aback. You’d never been this open about your feelings on Rory.

“Yeah, because you were in love with him. It’s a dick move to do that to your friend. But now he’s your ex…” you said.

“I wish you had said something,” she said.

“Would it have made a difference?” you asked.

She paused a moment.

“I don’t know.”

You gave her an indulgent smile, your chin tipping down as you looked up at her from under your lashes. Her heart skipped a beat. She was no romantic but there was no other way to describe the feeling in her chest.

“Am I allowed to be critical of him now?” you asked, voice softening, “if you’re not okay with it I’ll stop.”

“You can,” she said.

“Okay.” Your shoulders relaxed, “because he was awful. You’ve always been too good for him.”

“Who would you pick for me?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“Someone kind,” you replied.

Such a simple answer and yet it felt like a shock to her system. Could it really be that simple? You were kind. So maybe her heart was on to something already.

“Do you know someone?” she asked.

“I’m sure you’re more than capable of finding someone yourself,” she said, “after all, you found me.”

“I did,” she said.

She braced for some kind of comment from Astrid, caring wrapped in sarcasm to get her to say more. But when she looked around, her daughter was gone from where she’d been, slipping away in silence. Something about you seemed to ruin her perceptive abilities. You distracted her from the rest of the world.

You stood and she had the sudden fear that you’d heard more than she’d intended in those two words and were about to leave her alone. Instead, you lent against the railing beside her, fingers plucking the sunglasses off her face and dropping them onto your own. Her heart stuttered and she froze.

“If you had to pick someone, who would they be?” you asked, and she had the desperate wish to see your eyes.

“Someone I’m safe with,” she replied, “someone I trust.”

“That seems like the bare minimum in a relationship,” you said, but you weren’t smiling anymore.

“Clearly I’m not good at finding that,” she said.

“Lyds,” you sighed, pushing the sunglasses to the top of your head, keeping your hair out of your face, “I hope you already have those things. With me.”

“I do,” she rushed to say, that familiar anxiety growing.

“So you’re not bad at finding it,” you said.

“Yes but you…” She wasn’t sure she could finish that thought.

“I…?” you prompted.

“You wouldn’t be interested in being with me like that,” she eventually said.

“I wouldn’t?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Would you?” She couldn’t look at you as she asked.

“I suppose that would depend,” you replied.

Her eyes darted back up to you. The way you were looking at her was so gentle, like she was something special, something wonderful, something you couldn’t believe existed.

“On what?” she asked.

“On if it was something you were interested in,” you said.

“And if I was?” she asked.

“Then I would be very interested in you like that. In fact, it’s possible I’ve been interested in you like that for a while now but thought there was no chance you’d be okay with that,” you said.

Lydia stood from the chair, stepping into your personal space. You fidgeted until she reached out, hands laying over yours to still them. Your expression was so open, so vulnerable and all she could think about was how special it was to be given permission to see this side of you. Her fingers brushed over the pulse in your neck, feeling it jump under her touch. Your breath hitched and you swayed towards her. When your teeth sunk into your lower lip, her gaze was drawn to it, heat seeping through her veins.

“Then maybe you should know I’m thinking about what it would be like to kiss you,” she whispered.

iv) You

Reader, you kissed her.

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Oooh, for the thing - holding them close by the hips, with either Swiss/Aeon or Cirrus/Aurora plsssss

Double whammy >:3c

“Act natural.” Aeon whispers, whirling her into his arms. The welcoming gala for the next Papa was in full ceremonial swing, which meant no one had a chance to get naked yet. She couldn't wait to slip out of the short and poofy little number she’d picked out. Aeon's blush told her it would happen sooner rather than later. “Watchers at two and five o clock.”

“Who?” She breathes, next to his skin and smiles at the goosebumps that prickle up. He's so easy.

“Swiss. And Cirrus. Lookin’ like a couple of predators.” He leads her in some half-assed waltz, keeps stepping on her toes. What clumsy, easy prey they must seem to the older ghouls.

“Okay.” She says nonchalantly. “Are we leading them on a chase? Causin’ trouble?” They turn and she spots them. Closer together now, eyes narrow. Calculating. She smiles and blows a little air kiss. It isn't returned. Her heart skips a beat.

“Are we in trouble?” She asks with a little giggle as the crowd closes around them, and the hunters vanish. “I didn't do anything. What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Aeon says nervously. His ears twitch, his obvious tell. Aurora pokes her tongue out between her lips at him and he scrunches his face as she tries to lick him.

“Tell me!” She sings breathlessly.

“Rory!” He pleads.

“Kiss me.” She demands, and he does without protest. Her little Bug was always so good at following orders, from the time they met each other fighting for food scraps in the pit. Now here, the source of Lucifer’s power on earth and he still runs to her for help getting out of hot water.

“Smoked Swiss' weed and stole one of Cir’s bras.” He mutters when they part. “I heard her coming and panicked so I hid in your room. That's why she's mad at you.”

“Aeon!” She gasps, scandalized. Still grinning wickedly when he finally looks at her again. “Nasty little thief.”

Coincidentally, her first words to him when he tried to steal a particularly meaty behemoth thigh away from her. They’d tussled until she realized he was hard and then she rode him in the blood of the dead beast. No truer friendship had there been since.

“Do you think you’ll learn your lesson this time?” She coos, turning again. She can't see the hunters anywhere. Could be a good thing. Could be a bad thing.

“Yes.” He says instantly.

“Too fast, liar.” She teases. “Ooh, do you think she'll spank us?”

She doesn't care that she's being framed. Hell knew she deserved some kind of comeuppance for her own mischief, although she was far better at concealing her tracks than Aeon.

“We’ll start with a spanking.” Comes a cold voice. "Then proceed as we see fit from there." Firm hands slide around her waist, gripping tight and wrinkling the materials of her gown. Aeon goes pale as Swiss copies Cirrus, pinching and tickling the lithe quintessence ghoul before gripping his hips just as firmly.

“Maybe we'll let you hold hands through your punishment.” Swiss adds thoughtfully. They're tugged away from each other in one stunning quick motion, ending up in their predator's arms in a showy display of strength. “I think that'd be so cute.”

“Busted!” Aurora sings cheerfully, already thrumming to her core at the way Cirrus is touching her. She doesn't need to look to know Aeon's stiffy is poking up through his dress pants; a little fear always did it for him.

“How are you so happy about all this?” Aeon hisses as they're easily hefted up over strong shoulders. Swiss even gives Aeon a pre-emptive, light-hearted smack. Cirrus is tickling the back of her thighs.

“Because silly,” she snickers as they're taken away to their fate. “You aren't the only one who steals weed. And who do you think told Swiss in exchange for less spanks?”

“Rory!” Aeon wails.

“That's what you get for trying to frame me!” She sings. “I’ll take us both down babe.”

“I think I'll have her warm my strap.” Cirrus says to no one in particular. “Since she wants to be so mouthy.”

“We're doing whatever we want tonight, Mama.” Swiss purrs. “Eventually these troublemakers will learn their lesson.”

“Probably not.” Is Aurora's cheeky reply.

[stellaluna33]

I've always wondered about Jess's use of "I could care less if she eats" to Dean in There's the Rub. Because it's an incorrect usage! If he COULD care less, that means that he DOES care! Now, it's a pretty common mistake that a lot of people make, so I normally wouldn't think about it much, except for two things: 1. Jess is a huge nerd who reads all the time, so I would expect him to know the difference; and 2. in Lost and Found, Jess actually makes a POINT of being particular about this exact expression! Rory says, "You couldn't care less," and Jess says, "Oh, yes, I could!" emphasizing that he COULD be LESS interested than he actually is in that moment (he is not at the bottom level of caring!).

Now, I don't know if the WRITERS did this intentionally, but I've always wondered if Jess misspoke on purpose (because he DOES care if she eats!) and was betting on Dean not knowing the difference. And then he can feel sneaky and clever about getting away with hiding in plain sight afterwards. 😆

[giraffewithasombrero]

Rant about Jess from Gilmore Girl below here

I am doing a GG rewatch and I have mixed emotions about Jess. This kid wasn't wanted by his dad, and then his mom, gets thrown to Uncle Luke in this small town where everybody knows your business, immediately gets a reputation for being a bad boy and everybody always expects the worst of him because of this.

Any time he slips up, which of course he will because #teenager and specifically #TeenThatNeedsTherapy, every one immediately piles on the shame on him.

And then he meets Rory that understands him on an intellectual level and doesn't seem to care about his past but moreso about how he presents himself now and how he shows up and that sweetens him a bit but doesn't erase all that he's been through.

The show focuses on the dean x rory x jess triangle for so long and then once Rory and Jess get together we see less of those sweet moments and more of Jess struggling and trying to figure things out with the emphasis on how he "isn't as good as Dean" which would feel crappy for Jess to always be compared to somebody else and made feel yet again like he's not enough.

And then in a short amount of time he realises he can't graduate or take Rory to the PROM, feels rejected by Rory (which was a dick move don't get mad when someones not ready for the next step dude), meets his dad, gets in a fight with Dean, and then gets in a fight with Luke (thats been his best father figure so far) and told to leave again.

Obviously this boy needs support and needs to work through his issues but I kept being so irritated for him to be surrounded by people that expected the worse of him (apart from Luke and Rory for most events). Especially Lorelai at first was so hard on him. Like give the guy a chance.

Anw TLDR: Jess was a sad angry kid that needed way more support and help but instead was met by prejudice from the entire town and rejected over and over again and he deserved better

[thefirst3chapters]

Overanalyzing the Danes family again and thinking about how they react to change:

Liz appears to have an affinity for material objects. When Luke goes to Liz and TJ's place in S7, they have lots of Renaissance faire decor, supplies for making jewelry, quite a few other decorative items, and what appears to be a sizable Beanie Babies collection. That could just be their style, but it's interesting that Luke mentions in S4 that Liz has ended up in situations where a guy leaves with her belongings and clears out her bank account. Perhaps having a lot of physical things around her that aren't very expensive and probably aren't family heirlooms makes her feel safe and gives her a sense of control when everything else changes. Those things might not be as likely to be stolen, and if they go missing she can acquire more.

In S6, Liz tells Luke after a successful run selling jewelry that she doesn't know what to do with all the money, and Luke's suggestion of putting it in a bank hadn't occurred to her. Maybe when Liz came across some money she liked going to thrift stores and getting as much as she could afford. I'm picturing her finding yet another lava lamp or doll and saying, "I feel a connection with this one, don't you think it belongs with us?" while four-year-old Jess, who has been dragging around Curious George Learns the Alphabet for months, stares at her blankly.

Most of the things Jess seems to value are sources of ideas (books and music) or have a clear practical purpose (his clothes, watch, and car). One notable exception is the bracelets he has in addition to the one he temporarily keeps from Rory, and there's that ring he has in AYITL. Maybe there's a story there, and it's possibly an interesting connection to Liz's interest in jewelry (cue the everlasting Gilmore Girls theme of being like your parents even if you don't realize it or try to resist it). Twice we see Jess moving out of town with just what he can carry, and it happened offscreen when he went back to New York. Luke points out that Jess doesn't have much when first gets to Stars Hollow, but he doesn't seem to mind and says that Liz will send the rest later. In that episode, Liz tells Luke it will be that Friday. When all this stuff arrives 10 episodes later, there is of course comedic value in Luke's frustration at being trapped by mountains of boxes, but it's interesting that there is so much, and Jess doesn't seem to care about most of it. Did Liz think Jess would be comforted by this in the way she might be? Even with the extra space when the addition is built, a lot of those things realistically would not have been kept. Jess doesn't seem to own much besides books when he's in his New York apartment either.

Liz is more gregarious than Luke and Jess, but she also appears less affected when people she loves are absent. Liz calls Luke to see if Jess got to town alright in his first episode but famously doesn't ask about Jess going back to New York for the holidays. In S4, Liz is happy to see Jess both times he is in town, but she doesn't go out of her way to find out where he is or if he's okay. In S6, when she projects her concerns by telling TJ that he's going to mess up their child and throws things at him, she tells Luke that TJ left her like all the guys before him, but she's calm about it because of her "new come-what-may philosophy." Luke's the one who intervenes and gets TJ to come back while Liz is busy making new friends, and then Liz is glad to reconcile with him. Maybe Liz's apparent ease with all of this and her inclination toward meeting new people is how she's gotten through all of the losses she's experienced. She's predisposed to moving on.

Jess isn't social by nature, and as a teenager he's extra resistant to being around other people. However, in the two examples we see, once he gets emotionally attached to someone, it's for life. Being estranged from Luke and Rory affects him deeply and for a long time, and when he reconciles with them he makes it clear how important they both are to him. When he's working at Truncheon, he and his co-workers are friends, and he's conversational enough to be a successful businessperson in that environment, but April still notes that "men in this family aren't chatty" when she meets him.

For Luke, the circle of people he likes being around is small, but to those people he's extensively loyal ("Once Luke Danes is in your life, he's in your life forever"). The absence of someone he cares about clearly distresses him, and he tends to seek solitude in response. His apartment isn't cluttered, but he seems to have kept high school trophies, and he has a strong emotional attachment to things that are connected to his family: the diner, the "William's Hardware" sign, the boat, and his grandmother's bedroom furniture. Luke's life has been a bit more stable because he's the one who stuck around to take care of his parents and run the family business, and he's often hesitant to accept change. When metaphorical storms uproot Liz and Jess and take them elsewhere, they have contrasting coping mechanisms that they take with them while Luke stays behind and tries to hold down the fort, and eventually Jess finds stable footing and is able to help him. Or something like that.

[ghostfacd]

NEVER GROW UP (LIVVY’S VERSION)

au masterlist

author’s note: oh my!! wasn’t even expecting to write this, much less post this today but i got a sudden wave of energy? olivia hughes is the moment and she’ll always be the moment, this made me a bit emotional bc i hold this au close to my heart. as always, enjoy!

Olivia Hughes was born just a year after Luke, coming out a 7 pound baby with tufts of brown hair.

When Olivia was 3, the boys and her were playing indoor hockey in their living room. Olivia and Quinn were on one team, and Jack and Luke were on the other. Luke had thrown a fit, pushing Quinn out of the way to claim that he wanted to be in a team with his Livvy but Quinn only stuck out his tongue, announcing the start of the game.

The boys had gone fairly mild when playing with their baby sister, knowing that if they had played as rough as they usually did, it wouldn’t end up so well. When Ellen had called them for dinner, the score ended up being 10 to 4. Obviously, Quinn and Olivia won.

“Not fair!” Jack exclaims, puffing his cheeks out in annoyance. He threw the small hockey stick to the ground, running to the kitchen to grab his dinner.

“Lu wanna play with my Livvy next,” Luke says, motioning between him and Olivia. “My livvy. Not yours, Quinny.”

Quinn only flicks the small blonde boy’s forehead, giggling as he made his way to the kitchen.

“How was the game?” Ellen asked, smiling brightly as she watched her kids dig in a hurry. “Must’ve been real fun considering how fast you guys are eating.”

“It was mama!” Jack exclaims, his eyes wide with joy. “But Quinny no fair. Quinny always wins.”

“I’m sure that he plays fair, Jack.” Ellen smiles, ruffling her son’s hair. “Did you like it Luke?”

“Yes!” Luke places his hands together excitedly. “But next time, Lu gon’ play with Livvy. My Livvy.” He turn to hug Olivia, who was sitting right next to him.

Luke had called Olivia “Livvy” when she turned 2, stating that she was his baby and that he was going to take care of her until he grew old. Ellen and Jim, who were surprised at their young son’s statement, only smiled in relief, knowing their daughter had brothers she could rely on.

“Oh Luke and Livvy,” Ellen sighs to herself. “Never grow up.”

- - -

When Jack was in his sophomore year of high school, he had bumped into a pretty girl in the library, who he claimed was the “most prettiest girl he’s ever seen” besides his mom and Olivia. Olivia geeked, knowing that she might be able to have another girl who she could bond with if Jack managed to date the library girl he was so adamant on talking about.

Rory was what Jack called her, and Rory was just as beautiful as Jack claimed she was. Olivia knew that she was perfect for her brother, and that Rory was going to stick around for a really long time—well, at least she hoped so.

When Olivia got her first boyfriend, a boy named Max on the baseball team during the eighth grade, all her brothers had freaked.

“Boyfriend? You’re like 5!” Quinn exclaimed, his eyes widened in concern.

“I’m 13, Q.” The girl rolled her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Did he force you to date him? It’s okay Livvy, you can tell your big brother Luke. I will beat him up for you.”

“You’re like a freshman in high school Luke, you can’t do shit.” That got Jack an elbow to the rib, which made the middle boy let out a groan of pain. “Asshole.”

It’s safe to say that Max didn’t stick around for that long, and the pair broke up after graduating middle school, as Max was going to a different high school and Livvy knew she couldn’t do long distance.

It wasn’t until Olivia dated Gabe Perreault that she knew he was the one. He was a pretty boy with the nicest brunette hair Olivia had seen known to man. Maybe she was over exaggerating, but Gabe Perreault was an absolute catch.

The Hughes boys had obviously protested once again, claiming that Gabe wasn’t good enough for Olivia, and he just would never be. It was the first time she brought home a hockey boy, and that heightened her brothers’ fears, knowing the kind of guys some hockey boys could be.

What they didn’t know was that Gabe liked Livvy so much that he switched from Boston College to go to Princeton just so he could be closer to her. He dropped all his plans in a heartbeat, just to see Livvy smile.

He bought her white tulips on Tuesdays, her favorite, because Tuesdays were the only day his schedule didn’t really get in the way.

And when Gabe had overheard what her brothers had said about him, it felt like a stab to the chest. It hurt—like hell.

Livvy didn’t know what to do at first. Her brothers, the 3 she’s known her entire life, or Gabe? The boy that she loved just as dearly?

They ended up taking a break; but after a day, Livvy couldn’t take it and had to make amends with her boyfriend. How could she not miss the sweet boy he was?

“I know it’s not a Tuesday, Livs.” Gabe begins, a smile plays on his lips. “But I got you flowers.” And when her brothers saw their sister jump into the arms of the hockey player, they thought maybe he wasn’t so bad, and maybe they could even bond over their shared love for hockey.

“She’s growing up,” Quinn says, elbowing Jack softly.

“I wish she never grew up,” Jack jokes, though his eyes seem to water at the pondering of his baby sister finally growing up and finding the love of her life.

- - -

Rory and Olivia had became inseparable ever since Jack and Rory had started dating. When Rory first headed off to Umich for college, Olivia had packed loads of snacks and microwaveable meals in her luggage, hugging the older girl tightly as if she were her lifeline.

“Don’t forget about me back here!” Olivia joked, though there are a few tears that leave her eyes.

“Oh Liv, you know I could never.” Rory hugged the girl tightly close to her chest. “You’re practically my sister now.”

And when Olivia had received the phone call from her brother Jack after a few weeks of Rory not replying to her messages, she was beyond angry.

“What do you mean you just left her?!” Olivia practically screams into the mic.

“Whoa, what’s wrong Livvy?” Jack hears Luke ask in the background, but he’s too distraught to care.

“I didn’t know how to react when she brought up the pregnancy,” Jack sobs, “my brain just stopped working and I went on autopilot.”

“So you just walked out and didn’t tell her where you were going?” Now Olivia was getting even more angry. “Jack Rowden Hughes, you don’t do that!”

“I know, trust me, I know.”

“Well it seems like you don’t, Jack.”

And the next few hours are spent with Olivia lecturing her older brother, who’s currently in shambles at the home of his friend in Michigan. He didn’t know what to do, he wasn’t ready to be a father, not yet, not now.

But after Olivia told him that he was now an adult and he had to get his shit together, Jack realized she was right.

“You’re growing up Livs,” Jack sniffed. “You really are.”

“I’ve always been grown,” Olivia says, her eyes crinkled. “You were just all too busy to notice. Now get your girl back, J.”

And that’s all Jack needed to hear before heading to Rory.

- - -

The one time Olivia had visited Quinn in Vancouver, they were surrounded by cameras and news reporters eager to get a word out from the two Hughes.

Olivia sighed, having 3 brothers in the spotlight was clearly something. But she was proud of them, she really was.

It was all fine until a lady had asked, “your parents have played hockey and all three of your brothers are in the NHL, Olivia. How does it feel to be the only one in your family who doesn’t play the sport? Do you feel like a black sheep? Do you ever regret it?”

And Olivia is taken aback, wondering why it mattered so much to them that she didn’t play hockey. She just wasn’t interested, and that was all there was to that.

Quinn was about to say a remark against the woman when Olivia speaks up, not wanting it to break out in an argument.

“No, I never feel like the black sheep. My parents and brothers have always supported me in what I do, even if it’s not hockey. I’m currently majoring in history and diplomacy and I’m extremely happy with my choice, whether you guys are fine with that or not. Thank you.”

And that’s when Quinn Hughes realizes Olivia isn’t a baby anymore, and that he doesn’t have to speak for her anymore. Olivia Hughes was intelligent, well spoken, and even though Quinn would hate to admit it, his baby sister was truly growing up.

[abirddogmoment]

I love seeing Rory run in the field!! Bird dog doing bird dog things!! You said in the tags you had different training and priorities with her vs Mav re: offleash running like that. What kinds of things did you do differently with Rory to be comfortable having her offleash at a distance with reliable recall?

I was writing a whole novel but really it boils down to this chart. Under the cut because it's (vertically) long.

In short, it's just as much about what I didn't do with Maverick as what I did do with Aurora.

(Edited to add: I am extremely fortunate to live in the prairies where the kind of visibility I need is easy to find. Use my experience to inspire your own training if you like, but don't use it as a recipe. I have my own goals and my own priorities and those are likely different than yours.)

Maverick:

🔵 Supremely confident from day 1

🔵 Came home in August (extremely good and exciting time for outdoor adventures)

🔵 Prioritized specific sports behaviours over foundational building blocks like engagement and cooperation

🔵 Learned bad habits from my older dog at the time (prey drive > recall)

🔵 Was indiscriminately prey driven. If it moved, he wanted to kill it.

🔵 I phased out treats too fast and didn't want to use an ecollar or long line

🔵 I focused on "social media dog behaviours" (think like walking extremely close to me on trails) and got frustrated when we couldn't meet these rather than meeting my dog where he was at. This created a lot of frustration in our dog adventures.

🔵 I practiced recalls constantly when I didn't have to, making them a tedious behaviour for him. I would recall him 20-50 times a hike for everything from "you're too far away from me" to "I want to take a photo".

Aurora

🟣 Came to me a little insecure and looked to me for reassurance

🟣 Came home in December (a cold and relatively boring time for outdoor adventures)

🟣 I prioritized engagement, cooperation, and name recognition from day 1

🟣 Practiced good habits by walking offleash in the snow either alone or with Pike (amazing recall)

🟣 Is extremely birdy, but is very very focused. She easily calls off deer or people/dogs in the distance because she mostly cares about birds.

🟣 Literally always gets offered a high value snack for recalling or voluntary check ins (I will never phase this out, I will carry chunks of cheese on offleash walks for the rest of her life)

🟣 I never practice recalls if I don't need them. This one is hard to explain, but once Rory understood that long whistle = come back as fast as you can, I don't whistle unless I really need to. I recall her an average of 0-3 times per hike (*based on visibility or wildlife*) and trust her to make good decisions otherwise. I keep my eyeballs on her 100% of the time and choose areas with good visibility, but I don't recall her just for being far away.

🟣 I limit hikes where I have to nag her often (think, in the woods where I dont have a great line of sight and have to remind her to stay close to me) to a few times a month or less so she doesn't start getting frustrated about it.

🟣 I trust the training I put into her and choose to run her in areas with (relatively) reduced risk if she makes the "wrong" choice. I don't nitpick everything she does and I let her make her own choices, within reason.

🟣 I have an interrupter cue to ask her to stop doing something before I call her back (if she's digging a hole and I want her to move on, I use "Rory, enough! Here!") instead of whistling at her.

🟣 I don't force her attention on check ins. If she runs back to me and doesn't want a snack and wants to run straight back out, I let her run back out.

🟣 I have anticipatory cues for the end of a walk so I don't have to recall her when we get to the end of the field.

I want to say that it's nerve wracking to watch my dog sprint at full speed hundreds of yards away from me. I have to fight the impulse to recall her just because she's far away. It's an exercise in trust because I'm always worried about her going over the horizon, or running into a wildlife, or falling into a hole, but it's an important thing to work on if you have a dog that needs that trust to thrive.

Mav and I were a good team, but I never fully trusted him outdoors. I always had my finger on the ecollar buttons ready for him to do an evil and need to be vibrated. It was exhilarating to watch him in the field, but it wasn't really fun or relaxing.

Rory and I built a much stronger foundation of trust (I personally never would have been able to do this if I had more than one dog). She doesn't know any tricks yet, but I'm super confident in her recall and ability to take direction in the field, even when she's sprinting as fast as possible.