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jamesscarstairs · 2 days ago

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as a true and obsessive logan girl, i do agree that his lack of passion and his lack of drive does slightly defeat the purpose of his argument. however, i don’t think that he’s forced into this career because he’s lazy. i think his passionless pursuit of anything other than partying and drinking is simply a byproduct of an oppressive and entirely dysfunctional family dynasty.

it’s repeatedly made clear that he’s a damn good writer (unfortunate that his dad is a big newspaper guy!). he’s talented. and we know this talent isn’t an assumption made about him due to his father’s prominence in the world of journalism, it’s doyle who reluctantly confirms logan’s natural affinity for writing. logan, however, isn’t a fool. if anything, he’s rather logical and realistic. so when you put a father, a newspaper mogul known for discovering upcoming journalists with the “it” factor, and his evidently talented son in the same room, the outcome is apparent to anyone. perhaps if mitchum wasn’t so emotionally unavailable, logan would have been able to reject that path that was so clearly set out for him - but mitchum was unavailable. he was unavailable to logan throughout his entire youth and early adulthood. there is such a disconnect between father and son, that there is never room for discussion nor argument. so why would logan, content in his present to delay the inevitable, ever attempt to pursue a passion he knew would not be his fate?

despite his wealth and his status, it’s true that, in logan’s eyes, he does only have one door open; the door that has been created by his father.

One thing, beyond the many things, that I find ridiculous in the fight scene between Logan and Rory in the bar is when Logan says: “I don’t want this life, it’s being pushed on me.” Okay baby, then what life do you want? What career would you like to follow? What passion do you have besides partying, getting arrested, sinking you father’s yacht and drinking so much that your girlfriend has to take you plus your very drunk friends home by herself? Because this is the thing, if Logan had an interest somewhere else, like painting, for example, and he was being pushed by his father to follow a specific career, I’d understand him. He’s being denied his passion, his speech would make sense. This, however, is not what is happening. We see no sort of passion from Logan, besides partying, which Rory rightfully calls him out on. We don’t even see him confused about what he wants, which is also something I could understand. He’s near to graduating on something (I have no freaking clue what his major is and is not like the show focuses on it) and is expected to now get a job, a.k.a, a responsibility. But the thing is, he does not want responsibility, he wants to keep sucking on his dad’s money tits, while not having to work or put some effort into living a comfortable life. Therefore, his heart felt speech in the bar fails spectacularly to bring some empathy out of me.

#this is not me saying oh poor guy boohoo he had no choice in anything in his life ever #because of course he did ultimately have a choice #it was just entirely dependent upon how much he was willing to give up #which of course for a wealthy privileged man in his early 20s is not a lot!#he’s for sure a flawed character but i think his complexities and often hypocrisy is what makes him interesting. sue me!#this is not me being butthurt btw i hope it hasn’t come across that way #i just like engaging w gilmore girls discourse haha!#also yes i may see him with rose tinted glasses it’s true!#and im also a sucker for this fight scene because i think matt’s acting is superb #gilmore girls #logan huntzberger

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iamgonnagetyouback · 15 hours ago

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EEEEEEE IVYYYY ITS CHRISTMASTIME

could you write a jess mariano fic where him and reader get caught under the mistletoe? they're just friends up until this point (kinda like him and rory were "just friends") and then they kiss under the mistletoe 🤭🤭🤭🤭

under the mistletoe

jess mariano x reader who meet under the mistletoe

↬ word count : 1,541 words ˎˊ˗

↬ warnings : angst, miscommunication, minor self-esteem struggles, fluff overload ♡

↬ author's note : AHHH!! IT IS CHRISTMAS TIMEE ☃︎🎅🎄❄️☃️🎁🦌

The town square was alive with holiday cheer—twinkling lights draped over lampposts, the scent of mulled cider wafting from a nearby stall, and Taylor Doose prattling on about some historically accurate decoration he insisted on. You weren’t really in the mood to celebrate, but you came anyway, hoping the festive atmosphere might distract you.

Then, there was Jess.

He was leaning against the far wall of the town hall, arms crossed, smirking at something Luke said before he walked off. He hadn’t seen you yet, which gave you a moment to compose yourself.

Why did he have to look like that? Smoldering gaze, messy hair that looked good in a way that felt deeply unfair, and that damn leather jacket. You could already hear Lorelai’s voice in your head: Oh, honey, you’ve got it bad.

You sighed, shoving your hands into your coat pockets. It was fine. You were fine. Jess was just a friend. A frustrating, sarcastic, maddening friend who occasionally made your heart feel like it was doing cartwheels in your chest. Totally normal. Totally fine.

“Hey, Cherry,” a low voice drawled from behind you.

You froze, pulse jumping at the familiar nickname. You turned, and there he was, smirking down at you.

“Jess,” you said, trying to sound casual. Play it cool. Do not look at his mouth.

“You’ve been hovering near the snacks for a while. Got a game plan, or just eyeing Kirk’s disaster of a gingerbread house?” he asked, nodding toward the table where Kirk was enthusiastically pointing out the structural integrity of his lopsided creation.

You snorted. “Just… strategizing. You never know when someone’s going to weaponize holiday treats around here.”

“Fair,” Jess said, his smirk softening into something almost resembling a smile.

It would have been a perfectly normal conversation if Lorelai’s voice hadn’t cut through the chatter around you:

“Oh, look at them under the mistletoe!”

Your stomach dropped.

“What?” you and Jess said in unison, glancing up. And there it was, hanging innocently above your heads—a sprig of mistletoe tied with a bright red ribbon.

The crowd around you erupted into laughter and cheers, and you felt heat rush to your face. “Oh, no, we don’t have to—”

“Rules are rules,” Jess interrupted, his tone teasing but his eyes locked on yours.

You blinked at him, your brain short-circuiting. Was he serious?

“Unless you’re scared,” he added, that smirk returning full force.

Scared? Oh, he was insufferable. Fine. You’d show him.

You grabbed the lapels of his jacket and tugged him closer, ignoring the way your heart pounded as his smirk faltered, replaced by something softer.

The kiss started out light, almost cautious—his lips brushing yours, testing the waters. But then his hand slid to your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and everything else seemed to fade away.

It was over too quickly. You pulled back, breathless, your face burning as the crowd whooped and clapped. Jess leaned back, his usual nonchalance firmly in place, though his hand lingered on your waist for a second longer than necessary.

“Not bad, Cherry,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You stared at him, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a response.

Before you could process what had just happened, Jess stepped back, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, your thoughts were spiraling.

You spent the rest of the evening avoiding him.

It wasn’t hard, not at first. The Stars Hollow holiday party was chaotic enough that slipping away wasn’t suspicious. You busied yourself helping Lorelai set up more cider, dodged Kirk’s overly enthusiastic explanations about his gingerbread disaster, and pretended to be engrossed in a debate between Miss Patty and Babette about their favorite holiday movies.

But no matter where you went, you felt him. Jess’s gaze burned into your back every time you caught sight of him across the room. He looked… confused, almost frustrated. But you ignored it.

Your heart hadn’t stopped racing since the kiss under the mistletoe.

You weren’t dumb—you knew the kiss didn’t mean anything. Jess was Jess. He probably saw it as a joke, a way to rile you up, or just a holiday tradition to appease the crowd. But to you?

It meant everything.

You felt ridiculous. It wasn’t like you were dating him. He wasn’t yours to feel this way about. And anyway, wasn’t he still hung up on Rory? You’d seen the way he looked at her, even if they insisted they were just friends now. The kiss couldn’t mean anything.

But it had felt like it meant something. The way he’d held you, his hand lingering on your waist, the way his smirk had softened into something warmer, gentler—it had you spiraling.

So, you did the only thing you could think of: you ran. Not literally, but emotionally. You made yourself busy, avoiding Jess at every turn.

You found Rory by the punch bowl, chatting with Lane about some new band Lane was obsessed with. As soon as you approached, Rory greeted you with a bright smile.

“There you are! Did you see Kirk’s gingerbread house?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.

You forced a laugh, trying to act normal. “Uh, yeah. It’s… something.”

Lane laughed, but Rory’s expression softened as she looked at you. “You okay? You seem a little… off.”

Your stomach twisted. This was the moment. You had to say something.

“Actually, Rory, can I talk to you for a second? Alone?” you asked, glancing nervously at Lane, who raised an eyebrow but nodded and stepped away.

Rory tilted her head, confused but obliging. “Sure. What’s up?”

You wrung your hands, staring at the floor. “I… I wanted to apologize.”

Rory frowned. “For what?”

“For—” You swallowed hard, your voice dropping. “For kissing Jess. I didn’t mean for it to happen, it was just the mistletoe, and—”

Rory blinked, then let out a laugh. “Wait, that’s what you’re worried about?”

You looked up at her, startled. “You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” she asked, her tone incredulous. “Jess and I are ancient history. We’re friends, that’s it. And honestly?” She smiled knowingly. “I think he’s been waiting for an excuse to kiss you.”

Your heart stuttered. “What?”

“Come on, you really think he likes me?” Rory asked, crossing her arms. “You’re the one he’s always looking at, Cherry.”

The nickname hit you like a lightning bolt. Rory wasn’t even teasing—she was just stating it like it was obvious.

“Are you sure?” you whispered.

“Positive,” Rory said with a soft smile. “You don’t need to feel guilty about this.”

You tried to take Rory’s words to heart, but the guilt and confusion didn’t let up. You decided to leave early, slipping out of the town hall and into the snow-covered streets.

You didn’t get far.

“Hey, Cherry!” Jess’s voice called out behind you.

You froze, your stomach sinking. You turned slowly, snow crunching under your boots. He was standing near the gazebo, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, his breath misting in the cold air.

“Running away from me?” he asked, his tone light, but his eyes sharp.

“I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were,” he cut you off, taking a step closer. “You’ve been avoiding me all night. Did I grow an extra head or something?”

You crossed your arms, trying to put up a wall. “I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“Sure,” Jess said dryly. He stepped closer again, his expression softening. “What’s going on, Cherry?”

The nickname sent a pang through your chest. You couldn’t do this. Not when your feelings were a mess. Not when you didn’t know what the kiss meant to him.

“I just… I thought the kiss didn’t mean anything,” you blurted out, your voice cracking. “It was the mistletoe, right? It didn’t mean anything.”

Jess stared at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might agree with you, might brush it off as a joke. But then he stepped closer, so close you could see the faint flush on his cheeks from the cold.

“You think I kissed you because of mistletoe?” he asked, his voice low and almost… hurt. “Cherry, I kissed you because it’s you.”

Your breath caught.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you for months,” Jess admitted, his eyes searching yours. “You think I’d kiss you for some stupid holiday tradition? I kissed you because I like you.”

The words hit you like a tidal wave, knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Jess…”

He shook his head, his voice softening. “If you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine. Just don’t avoid me, okay? I can’t deal with that.”

Your chest ached. You stepped closer, grabbing the front of his jacket like you had under the mistletoe. “You’re an idiot,” you whispered.

His eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“You’re an idiot,” you repeated, your voice shaking. “Of course I like you.”

Jess blinked, and then his lips curved into the softest, most genuine smile you’d ever seen. “Good,” he said simply, before leaning in and kissing you.

This time, there was no crowd, no mistletoe, no excuses. Just you and him, and the snow falling gently around you.

#divider by wonyounglogy #dividers by adornedwithlight #dividers by cafekitsune #pictures from pinterest #jess mariano fluff #christmas fics ❆#jess mariano x reader #jess gilmore girls #jess mariano #ivy's soft scribbles ೀ #jess mariano x you #jess mariano imagine #gilmore girls #jess mariano angst #jess mariano fanfic

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