#gilmore girls AU fic

[jomiddlemarch]

Reality has no place in our world

“Mom, stop. You can’t do this,” Rory said. She didn’t fold her arms in front of her chest or glare, two gestures Lorelai herself might have chosen to accompany giving an order, but then Rory was a better person that Lorelai would ever be and also, not nearly as accomplished at glaring; unlike Lorelai, she hadn’t spent the formative years of her facial expression life under the tutelage of Emily Gilmore and neither Luke nor Michel every gave Rory a hard time.

Rory didn’t look angry or exasperated or impatient. She looked a little frustrated, a little tired, and mostly, disappointed. Christ, it was so early, the sky still the dull dark of the moonless hour before dawn, and she’d already made Rory give her that look, the one that wasn’t a glare, and speak in that tone. 

“Do what? The cha-cha?” Lorelai shuffled a bit, shimmying a lot more. “Wake up before my alarm—check. Face the future without fear? On it—”

“You can’t leave Max. You can’t run away the day before your wedding,” Rory said. “You can’t do that to him.”

“No?” Lorelai said, as if she was going to add Try me or watch me or you’re not the boss of me, when it came out sounding like a real question and she was open to alternate suggestions, which as she said it she realized was, in fact, the truth.

“No. You can’t. Whatever’s going on inside your head, you can’t be that mean to him, to just leave. You can’t be cruel because you’re freaking out,” Rory said. “You’re freaking out, right?”

“So, I’m mean and cruel? Did you forget nasty?” Lorelai said, crossing her own arms in front of her. Someone ought to and it didn’t seem like Rory was going to. She carefully avoided answering the freak-out question, though it didn’t take a world-class genius to raise the hypothesis.

“I didn’t say any of that and you know it. This isn’t some cute rom-com, where you can ditch the guy at the altar and then there’s some montage of a roadtrip or a bunch of zany, over-caffeinated high-jinks,” Rory said.

“That sounds better than this,” Lorelai said. “A lot better. What’s the soundtrack?”

“It’s not. It’s not real,” Rory replied, ignoring her attempt at deflection. “You have to call Max. You have to talk to him, before you decide to do whatever you decide to do.” 

“I do?” They both heard the reference to wedding vows and Lorelai raised an eyebrow. Rory frowned.

“Don’t make this weirder, Mom. Call Max. I’ll get the phone,” Rory said.

“Okay. Fine. You’re obviously not going to let this go,” Lorelai said. Was she a little relieved that Rory had called out her imminent scarpering? Around 23% seemed fair. 

“I’m not,” Rory agreed. “You’ll thank me for it.”

“Don’t press your luck, kiddo—"

She called.

Max answered on the second ring, his voice the kind of growly that meant she’d woken him, which wasn’t a huge surprise because it was still hovering around 5 am. They didn’t talk for long. She asked him to come over and he said he’d be there in 20 min without asking any questions why, which was big of him given the time and date and she knew she herself would have expected some kind of explanation and probably would have taken more like 40 min to get to his apartment, because she damn well would have made a travel-mug of coffee even if she was heading over in yesterday’s jeans and the first tee-shirt she could put her hands on.

With only 20 min, she made a pot of coffee and put on fresh jeans. She didn’t change her tee-shirt. The coffee had been Rory’s idea. Lorelai recognized Rory was looking for other ways to keep her from bolting besides guilt and that coffee, naturally, was the best available approach. Lorelai sat at the kitchen table and waited for Max, letting Rory be the one to open the front door and then take herself off to Babette’s, since it was too early for anywhere else to be open.

“What’s wrong?” Max said, sitting across from her, a mug of coffee in front of him, untouched. Lorelai herself was also untouched, Max forgoing a hug or a kiss or even his hand on her shoulder or pushing back the loose hair by her cheek. She couldn’t be bitter about it, but she was, a little, even though she knew she was being unreasonable.

“Why do you think something’s wrong?” she countered, as if this would be some kind of ordinary sparring, like whether Al’s food could ever truly be called Chinese or if Brandy was a good name for a dog.

“Why do I—it’s 5:23, you called and asked me to come right over. There’s no good news you deliver that way,” he said, pretty calmly given that he could well be deeply frustrated, annoyed or outright enraged at her dancing around. He hadn’t even gotten to see her cha-cha.

“Maybe I do, maybe that’s something you don’t know about me—”

“Lora, enough,” he interrupted and she couldn’t have said whether it was hearing the nickname only he ever used or the brevity, just two words, or the tenderness in his voice, in his tired, dark eyes, but something in her broke.

“I don’t think I can marry you,” she said.

“Okay,” he said. “Why couldn’t you wait to tell me?”

“Okay? Okay?!” she repeated, screeching if she were being honest with herself, which is what this whole thing has been supposed to be about. 

“I didn’t mean I was happy to hear you say it. It was an acknowledgement, nor approval. Why couldn’t you wait until actual morning?” he said.

“I wasn’t planning this.” She took a sip of her coffee. It wasn’t as good as Luke’s but that was nothing new.

“You weren’t planning this—” he paused, looking at her with a degree of acuity that made her want to flee. Or squirm. She gripped the handle of the mug and hoped it wouldn’t break off in her hand. They sat there for like forever or 47 seconds, she couldn’t be sure. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Rory’s idea, us talking, she’s the only person you’d do this for—”

“I’d do it for you—”

“No, you wouldn’t,” he said. “You were going to leave. You were going to leave me a day before the wedding.”

Well, she’d known he was intelligent and good at reading her and quick, so fucking quick, that was why she’d fallen in love with him—

“Were you going to write a note? Call?” he asked. Lorelai sat, feeling lumpish and pathetic and all betrayal-y, and didn’t say a word. Max closed his eyes for a moment and let out a breath. “You weren’t going to do anything. You were going to run away and someone else was going to have to tell me. To deal with everything.”

“Sookie would’ve called you,” Lorelai said. She tried not to mumble, though she really felt like mumbling, more than she’d ever want to mumble in her whole life.

“You’d have called her from wherever you went,” Max said. “She’s making the wedding cake.”

“Five tiers,” Lorelai said. “All buttercream frosting. She has a thing against fondant.”

“It tastes like shit,” he said. It was quiet between them, so quiet a bird could have twittered or sung its cute little morning song so they could share a smile or the eye-part that went with a smile without actually moving their lips, but it was quiet and she wondered if Max would get up and walk out. 

“What’s wrong, Lora?” he said softly, which was a far cry from stomping out or shouting or making a snide, sarcastic remark about her, which were all the responses she would have expected from the other men in her life, Luke, her father, and Christopher respectively, and for the first time, she felt her eyes fill with tears.

“I don’t think I can do it. I’m not—you won’t want, I, I didn’t look at my dress every night,” she said in a rush.

“Is that a thing? Looking at your dress every night?” he said.

“My mother says it is.”

“But you think she’s wrong about almost everything,” he said. He made a good point.

“She said she wanted to, that’s how she knew she wanted to get married,” Lorelai said.

“Maybe that’s not how you’d know,” Max said. “In fact, I would bet good money that it’s not how you’d know, because I know you like your dress but it’s not even a distant second to coffee in your regard.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Lorelai said.

“Have you ever thought you don’t have to? That we don’t care about each other because it’s something we deserve, but because I want you and you want me?” he said.

“You don’t want me,” she said, before she could think twice, could stop herself or figure out something that would come after, some explanation about how there was a much better woman out there for him and he shouldn’t get derailed by her. She didn’t want to be his trainwreck.

“Don’t tell me what I want,” he snapped, then rubbed his face with his hand. “I’m sorry, this is hard. But I know what you expect. You expect me to walk out, plus or minus lashing out at you first.”

“What—”

“It’s what Christopher does. He leaves. It’s what Luke does. He walks away, he shuts down. It’s what you father does. He scolds you and he stalks out,” Max said. “Lora, I’m not going to do that.”

“But why?” she said. “Why not?”

“Because I love you. Because if loving you, I need to leave you, I’m not leaving like that,” he said.

“I was going to,” she said, almost under her breath.

“I know. But you listened to Rory and she wouldn’t let you,” he said and then he scrunched up his forehead in a way that was unfairly adorable. “She’s very insightful. And not here—is she next door at Babette’s?”

Lorelai could count on one hand the number of times Christopher had ever expressed concern about where Rory was, who was looking after her, or uttered a smidgen of praise that wasn’t of the generic “so pretty so smart” variety. 

“Yeah, she’s next door,” Lorelai said. “I still don’t think we should get married.”

“I know about Luke,” Max said. Lorelai suddenly understood the expression knocked over with a feather, though she didn’t know who was keeping feathers around for such a purpose. She felt herself goggle at Max and knew it was not her most attractive look, but needs must.

“What do you mean, you know about Luke?” 

“He hand-carved a chuppah for you to get married beneath. I can recognize when someone else cares about you. You never asked, but he must have,” Max said.

“Must have asked what?”

“He knows you’re not Jewish. He found out I am and he built a chuppah for you,” he said. “It sure as hell wasn’t for me.”

“You’re Jewish?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “My mother’s side. The side that counts. She was a Cohen before she married my father.”

“I had no idea—”

“I didn’t fall in love with you for your astonishing attention to detail and detective skills,” Max said. “I’m in love with you and I know Luke loves you and you love him, but are you going to throw away what we have when I’m not asking you to give him up?”

“What are you saying, Max?” Lorelai shook her head. “Despite what my mother thinks of me, I’m not…kinky.”

“Wow, that is a whole other conversation,” he said, laughing, which was not something she’d had on her bingo card for the discussion about breaking an engagement at the last minute. “I meant, you don’t have to stop caring about Luke, I don’t expect that. I don’t expect him to stop loving you—if there’s anything I can understand, it’s loving you. But not as a husband. Not as Rory’s stepfather—I want that and he doesn’t—”

“How do you know he doesn’t?” Lorelai said. It was the second time this night-into-morning that she’d said something that was intended as a challenge and realized she’d just asked a question of someone she trusted more than herself.

“Because you’ve lived here for over ten years and he’s never said anything, for all the breakfast, lunches and dinners he’s made for you. He’s never asked you out on a date or stayed for pizza or Al’s. He’s never been the one who ran out to the pharmacy to get Tylenol when Rory spiked a fever or needed posterboard for a school project at the last minute,” Max said. 

“Rory has never needed a school supply at the last minute,” Lorelai said. 

“He’s never made the cupcakes for the bake sale. Sookie did that and she still does,” Max said. He pushed his coffee mug away and left his right hand palm up on the table top. She’d held that hand, felt it cupped around her cheek, pressed against the small of her back and the curve of her ass. It was unclear whether she’d ever touch him again and she wished she could read the future in the creases and lines being picked out by the early morning sunlight. 

“Look, I’m not telling you you have to marry me and it’s not a contest and it’s not a guilt-trip. I’m only saying that I love you and I think you love me and what you’re worried about, about needing to choose, about not caring in the right way, the right amount, I think it’s bullshit. It’s partly your mother’s fucking bullshit and some of it is societal expectations and some is your own stuff going back to Christopher and the teenage rebellion that turned into being a teen mom. I want you to be happy, to do what makes you happy, but I want you to know where I stand. What I can live with. You’ll never stop loving Luke and Christopher will always be Rory’s father and I am okay with that, with all of that. Because I fucking love you, Lora.”

“I love you too,” she said. “But maybe, I don’t know if it’s the right way—”

“When has doing anything the right way ever mattered to you?” he replied and she had to laugh because it was true and because he understood her enough to know it and say it.

“I’m not sure it’s enough,” she said.

“What is enough? Is a thousand yellow daisies enough? Is agreeing to call me at 4:53 enough?” he pushed. “This isn’t a rom-com, it’s real life. And we’re not both sixteen, we’re adults. Let me ask you, why did you call me today? I know if was Rory’s idea but you did it, you could have refused, you could be driving to God knows where right now—”

“I wanted to,” she said. “I wanted to hear your voice. I didn’t call because I felt like I owed it to you. I’m not that good a person.”

“I want to talk to you first thing in the morning,” Max said. “I don’t ever want it to be too early.”

“What about too late?” Lorelai said. She’d done a fair job of royally fucking things up for all his protestations to the contrary. The caffeine and sun might be hitting him, he might think twice about sticking around.

“No such thing,” he said. He didn’t move, so she let go of her coffee and put her hand in his. “But maybe you want a new dress?”

“I can’t get a new dress the day before the wedding, Max,” she said, already thinking of that sweet little number she’d seen in a consignment store window in Hartford, all nipped in waist and Givenchy New Look attitude and the look Max would give her if she were walking toward him in it. She thought of Max watching her come closer and Luke watching her walk away until she was in the shadow of the chuppah he’d built. She thought it was impossible and that she’d heard worse ideas and not just from Kirk on any topic.

“Says who?”

She wore the new, second-hand dress.

Max stomped a glass wrapped in a cloth napkin in lieu of a rabbi. 

She didn’t take his name. In the receiving line, Luke kissed her cheek and called her Lorelai. Cutting Sookie’s masterpiece (Every tier a different flavor! Homemade quince preserves! Candied white violets!), she didn’t notice the weight of her wedding ring, but she couldn’t look away from the gold band on Max’s hand.

When she woke in the night from a dream full of dread, regret, the terrible mixture of mistake and failure, that hand lay gently on her hip and when she grew too tense, he murmured what’s wrong, Lora and then she could go back to sleep.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅

🕊️𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🕊️

summary - little red riding hood (you) heeds the villager's warnings and ends up crossing paths with the big bad wolf.

warning - smut, inter-species, degrading, dirty talk, dubcon, death, stalking, swearing, creampie, choking, slapping, fingering, biting, dacryphilia.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

All you had to do was cross through the woods to get to your grandmother’s house. That was all you had to do. It sounded easy, you ignored the warnings from the villagers, and you thought you had this handled. You get dressed in your little white dress, covering yourself with your red hood before gathering your basket of pastries and fruits. You smiled as you passed the villagers, heading through the path that entered the dark, creepy woods. You ignored their worried whispers, too focused on getting where your grandmother was. 

You giggle, smiling at all the pretty butterflies that flutter by, and you begin to hum a soft melody. Skipping along the path, not feeling the air become cold or noticing the animals that start to scatter, you are too oblivious to see how dark and creepy the woods begin to become the deeper you walk into them. Such an innocent little thing you were. Too bad the big bad wolf was going to destroy that. 

Luke lurked, spying on you from behind the shadows, licking his lips as he caught sight of your pretty little dress underneath that beaming red hood. He sneaked and crept, following behind you with caution. Luke grinned, his sharp canines prodding his lips, his glowing yellow eyes following you, preying on you. He could pounce at any moment, and you’d never expect a thing. Luke stretches his hands, feeling his claws come out slowly, desperately wanting to claw into you as he fucks you into the ground. His cock grows, hardening the more he watches you, the more Luke thinks about what he wants to do to you. His cock strains against his pants, and his swollen tip leaks with pre-cum. A growl slips from his lips, and he watches you halt, looking around slowly. 

You didn’t know what that was. Could the villagers be right? Was there an actual beast in these woods? Did you brush off their warnings when they were only caring for you? Was everyone right? Were you really the dumb little thing in their village? You couldn’t be? You were smart… You were sure of it. Your mind raced with thoughts, causing you to forget about the growl or the beast lurking in the shadows. You shrugged, wondering why you had stopped before beginning on your merry way, skipping again with a ditzy smile. Only to be stopped again, staring widely at a large man standing before you, his bright yellow eyes staring at you with hunger. 

Luke licks his lips, “What are you doing out here, little red?” He tries to make his voice as friendly as possible, not wanting to scare you away.

You smile, rocking on your heels. “I’m on my way to see my grandma! Who lives through the forest, near the lake!” You blush, taking in the handsome stranger before you notice the sun going down much faster than expected. “Oh, shoot! I’m sorry, mister! But I’m running late!” You shoot him a small smile before hurrying along. Luke’s nostrils flare as your scent enters his senses.

Luke chuckled, shaking his head at your stupidity. He smirked as a plan formed in his head, giving you one last look before he hurried through the shortcut and appeared at your grandmother’s house. What better way of getting you than pretending to be the one you love? He knocked, straightening to his seven to eight feet height, grinning wide with his pretty sharp teeth showing. The moment the poor little older woman opened the door, he pounced, swallowing her whole before heading inside, checking to see if he looked clean before Luke walked over to the bed, stripping from his clothes, giving his cock a few tugs before he got under the covers. Luke chuckled to himself, knowing you weren’t too far behind.

You skipped to her door, beaming with happiness at finally seeing her again. Your little hand knocks on the door, rocking on your heels as you wait patiently for her. “Who is it?!” You giggle.

“It’s me, grandma! Y/n!” 

Luke smirks, “Oh, how lovely! Do come in, my dear!” You smile, entering her home and placing the basket of food on the small table nearby before you untie your hood and carefully place it on the hook. You turn and slowly make your way over to her bed, wondering why her eyes are yellow instead of her standard colour, and with a worried look, you sit beside her and rest your hand on her arm above the covers.

“Grandma! Your voice sounds so odd, is something the matter?” You question, gnawing your lip as you check over her.

“Oh, I just have a touch of a cold.” Luke fakes a cough, licking his lips as he eyes you. The blanket slowly moved down to show off some of his face, silently sending thanks to the universe for making the lighting so dark.

Your brows furrow, tilting your head slightly as you notice some of your grandma’s changed features. “But grandma! What big ears you have.” You edge closer, extremely worried for your grandmother. 

“The better to hear you with, my dear.” 

“But grandma! What big yellow eyes you have….” You shiver, feeling a chill roll down your spine at the sight of them staring deep into your soul.

“The better to see you with, my dear.” Luke feels pre-cum leak from his swollen tip, soaking the flowery bedsheets. His fingers twitch. He’s so close to having you under him, tearing you apart with his massive cock. 

Your eyes slowly move down the bed, noticing the large tent forming. “But grandma! What… A big tent? You have.” Your gaze slowly moves back up and connects with his eyes, swallowing the saliva that builds up in your mouth.

Luke smirks, throwing the blanket back and wrapping a clawed hand around your delicate throat, turning and pushing you into the bed. “The better to fuck you with, my dear.” He sneers, pressing his stiff cock into your soft legs. He squeezes, staring with a dark glint as you struggle to breathe. “What a dumb little girl you are. Don’t you know that the woods aren’t safe for dumb little things like you?”

You stare at him with wide eyes, squirming as you feel something wet poking your inner thigh. “Y–You, you're the man from before….” You whimper, your eyelids flutter as his grip tightens, feeling slick pool between your thighs. 

Luke grins, his cock twitching as the smell of your arousal hits him. “Yes, I am, little red.” He leans closer, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Mmm, you smell delicious, little red. It seems like you want the big bad wolf.” Luke licks the side of your neck, sucking on your sweet spot as his other hand moves up your tiny dress and cups your clothed core. “Did the dumb little baby get wet from mean old me?” He growls, smiling down at you before he swipes his hand across and rips your knickers from your body. His fingers connect with your swollen button, rubbing and flicking it, watching you whither and moan, trying to break free from his grip.

“P–please, I won’t tell anyone!” You cry, swallowing your sobs. You had realised your fate was sealed and that your grandma was gone. Your plump bottom lip wobbles, staring into his sharp eyes, embarrassed that you feel some sort of way underneath the monster. “I–I’ll be good, I swear!” Fat tears fill your eyes before rolling down your puffy cheeks, whimpering as the man leans forward and licks them up. 

“Of course, you’ll be good, you dumb baby. It’s the only thing you know how to do.” Luke grows harder from your tears and your whimpers. His fingers pick up their pace before slowly piercing through your tight little hole, curling and thrusting, stretching you out and getting you ready for him. “Don’t worry, little red. I’ll take good care of you.” His thumb rubs your swollen pearl, curling his thick fingers into your sweet spot. Your back arches as pleasured whimpers fall from your lips. Your walls squeeze and pulse around his fingers, juices flowing out of you as you cum. Luke licks his lips, slowly pulling his fingers out of your cunt and bringing them to his lips. “Such a naughty girl, cumming for the big bad wolf like the dumb little thing you are.” A moan falls from his lips as he places his fingers into his mouth, sucking your sweet nectar off them. “So delicious, little red.” He pushes you into the bed, crawling on top of you. “You ever been with a man like me before, little red? Hmm? I bet you haven’t, a sweet little innocent thing like you.” His hand wraps around his throbbing base, swiping his leaking tip against your sopping folds.

Your hands curled into the bedsheets, whimpering when he began to push in. More tears flow down from the pain of his massive cock stretching your tight walls. “H–hurts… Please.” You babble, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to push through, his fingers rubbing your little clit, growling as your juices leak out and help lube his cock. Your hands fly up, digging your nails into his arms as he sends a sharp thrust deep inside you. “O–oh!” Your vision goes white, and your walls spasm around him wildly.

“Poor little red, you’re so fucking tight.” He growls, snarling down at you. His hands grip your hips, lifting your legs, so they wrap around his waist, plunging harder and deeper inside you. Luke buries his face into your neck, nipping the young flesh with his sharp canines. “You like the feel of me inside of you, little red? Stretching you, claiming you?” He slams into you, chuckling at the small scream that escapes you. Your hands move from his arms to his back, clinging desperately to him as his pace picks up, pounding you into the soft mattress. “You enjoying this, dumb baby? Being used for my pleasure? Hmm?” He growls, holding your hips tighter.

“Uh-huh!” You whine, and your hips slowly move along with his thrusts. Your legs tighten around him, feeling yourself clench around his thick, monstrous cock as he continues to pierce you with it. “S–so big… So full!” Your eyes roll back, whimpering with each thrust, feeling your mind beginning to slip as Luke’s tip slams into your sweet spot, your mouth falls open, and your body becomes numb from the pleasure. You gasp, feeling a sting on your cheek, and your eyes blink open, staring into his glowing yellow ones, noticing the glare he holds as he continues moving inside you. His hips snap, and your head falls back, exposing your neck to the beast. 

He leans forward and latches down, biting into the soft flesh and groaning as your walls flutter rapidly around him. A choked gasp escapes you, your back arches, and your vision goes white as your arousal shoots out of you, coating the giant beast. He grunts, feeling you squeeze and pulsate around him, “get ready. I’m going to fill you up with so much cum that it’ll flow out of you for a whole month, my little red.” He growls, pounding as fast and hard into you until his thrusts become sloppy, his heavy sacks begin to tighten, his cock begins to twitch and throb, and his swollen mushroom tip swells deep inside you. “Fuck, tightest little cunt on the dumbest little girl.” He roars as thick amounts of cum shoot out of him and into you, filling you to the brim, feeling it overflow out of you and onto the soft sheets. 

Your body sags into the bed, arms falling from his back and legs falling from his waist as your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you pass out. The intense pleasure became too much for someone as tiny as you. Luke huffs, waiting for his knot to soften before he can pull out of you. He looks down at your knocked-out form with a dark glint in his eyes, his clawed hand strokes your cheek, and he grins. “Oh, you poor dumb thing. You have no clue that you’re mine now, forever.” When his knot softens, he slowly pulls out and watches his cum leak from your cunt before he pushes it back in with his fingers. Luke stands, straightening to his standard height as he collects his clothes and gets dressed. He lifts your wrecked body and heaves it onto his shoulder, grabbing your red hood on the way out. 

With the slam of your granny’s door, Luke’s dark chuckle fills the creepy woods as he makes his way to his place with you in his arms. You would never be seen again, being added to the tales of the big bad wolf. You would be known as his whore, his wife and the mother of his pups.

You shouldn’t have been so dumb and listened to the villagers’ warnings.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[th30ra3k3n]

theo: “you know, ernest only has lovely things to say about you.”

liam: “why are you only nice to me?”

theo: “excuse me?”

liam: “an hour ago, you were totally screwing with brett and now you’re totally nice to me.”

theo: “heh, you see, it’s the screwing with brett that’s an important step to getting here, so that i could be nice to you.”

liam: “so, it was a plan.”

theo: “what?”

liam: “the whole bidding on my basket — it was a plan.”

for @thiamsxbitch @theoceanismyinkwell @wolfboy88 @ksbbb 🖤

[oflights]

wip snip 5.1

i've been tagged a bunch of times over the past few weeks to post wip snips and only had the last few chapters of star splitter to post, so i bailed. i finally have something new to preview!! have a bit of the gilmore girls fic, still in progress. 🥰

Just about 8 years ago, the bell over the doorframe jingled violently as Draco Malfoy threw the door open and swept in, already talking. “Bloody hell, that snow is abominable,” he was saying. He hefted a bundled, starfish-shaped form that would turn out to be a toddler by his hip, a pram scooting behind them and leaving a wet trail on Harry’s floor. With a flick of his wrist, the pram had folded up and nestled in the corner of the dining area, dripping there ignored, as Draco descended upon the counter much the same as he did almost every day.

“You, there—please tell me this place has something warm to—” And then Draco froze, because back then he had not done this every day; this was the first time, and more specifically the first time he had seen Harry Potter in the flesh since their eighth year of Hogwarts.

“Malfoy,” Harry had said, eyeing the puffy bundle warily. He didn’t know it was a toddler then; every bit of Scorpius was covered up and radiating Warming Charms. In hindsight, he was probably sweating, but Harry was to later learn that Scorpius had been a quite agreeable child until he learned to read—an apparent mistake that Draco despairs of having made a few times a week—and he made no complaints even dropped onto a stool as he was, propped up against his father.

“What are you doing here?” Draco, then Malfoy, had demanded. He looked utterly thrown and somehow offended, as if Harry’s existence in his own place of business was a grave insult to him.

“This is my place,” Harry said, and then as an instinctive response to Draco’s disbelieving scoff, he added, “I own it.” He’d hoped Draco would pick up on the implied threat—don’t be an arse or I’ll kick you out.

...

“This place is called Al’s,” Draco said accusingly. “You’re not Al.”

“Nope, I’m not. I’m Harry.” When Draco stared at him, Harry clarified, “Harry Potter.”

“I know you’re—who is Al, then?” Draco went pale beneath his winter flush. “Wait. Did you name this place after—Dumbledore?” He whispered the name as if ashamed, and Harry supposed that was about right, though it garnered him little sympathy.

Harry let that dread sit on Draco’s face for a few moments before he said, “No, it was already called Al’s when I bought it. Didn’t feel like changing the name.” He had changed everything else about it, though, spending one exhausting summer converting it from a pub no one really liked to go to anymore to a greasy spoon that people liked much more.

...

Harry had not opened this place and kept it open so he could be insulted and bullied; he was long past the time in his life when he would accept that, especially from the likes of Draco Malfoy. And so he opened his mouth once again to tell Draco to get out—ignoring all the questions he had for him, like what he was doing in this town, out in the snowstorm, carrying some sort of doll, maybe?

Before he could say so, and even before Draco could interrupt, the doll made a noise that made Harry startle and drop the rag he’d been wiping down the counter with. The doll made another noise, reached out, and grabbed the rag.

“Mine!” the doll said, lifting its head until a nose poked out of its bundling. That was when Harry realized that what Draco had set down on the stool was a toddler.

“Not yours,” Draco said as Harry tried to process this. “Let it go, Scorpius, it’s disgusting!”

“Oh,” said Scorpius, in a very wobbly sort of voice. His head tipped up so much that Harry could now see wide eyes, which were a complex hazel shade that made him really start to wonder what Draco was doing with a toddler. Said eyes were glistening slightly, and to accompany the look, Scorpius said, “Okay,” in the saddest little voice Harry had ever heard. He dropped the rag back on the counter; he could barely move his arm in his heavy, puffy coat.

“He can have it,” Harry said quickly; he grabbed up the rag and tried to hand it back, unable to deal with that stricken face.

[eyesfullofsttars]

☆ little hcs of ellie williams; gilmore girls!au

synopsis: looking for ellie around the small town of stars hollow? here are some possible places to find her

notes: it's me again! couldn't stop thinking about ellie every time i saw jess, don't know why!!! but this is just a silly short thing

series materlist | (anderson's version)

are you looking for ellie? oh, she might be...

Working in the café restaurant and questioning teenage labor laws as she's forced to help with Joel's family business. You can easily identify her by the furrowed brow on her freckled face, her reddish-brown hair tied in a low ponytail with some strands framing her face, and her greenish eyes that roll every time she hears Joel's voice.

However, you can always find her outside the town's public high school, either skateboarding and further damaging her dirty Converse, chatting with her friends Dina and Jess about physics class, or even walking alone with her backpack full of pins showcasing her interests: rock bands, astronomy, comics, video games, and dinosaurs. Most likely, she's listening to a cassette Joel made for her as a peace offering, along with her Walkman.

Still haven't found her? Well, if it's the weekend, she's usually in one of three possible places:

At the bookstore, searching for discounted comics that the bookstore secretary keeps for her at just fifty cents each, which Ellie considers the greatest human discovery. You might also find her quietly reading books from the astronomy or paleontology section, but I can't guarantee she'll hear or respond to you—too focused on her own world.

At the town arcade, often accompanied by her friends Jesse and Dina, who are guaranteed to lose at every arcade machine due to Ellie's competitiveness. She loudly celebrates every time her character defeats one of her friends' characters, and if they're not playing a fighting arcade game, they're definitely playing a racing one, seeking revenge.

At the city's record store, searching for discounted relics of her "niche" musical tastes, although it's usually just depressing music she only listens to at three in the morning. Probably looking for a Mazzy Star record, preferably "She Hangs Brightly" (1990), Yo La Tengo's "I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One" (1997), or any available Radiohead album without preference.

As a last resort, you can always ask Joel by entering the family café restaurant. He'll simply tell you to go upstairs and check if you want, and once you climb the stairs, there's a chance you'll find Ellie studying while watching the movie "Juno" for the tenth time—she always has the DVD of that movie, or perhaps practicing with her red electric guitar.

[cookihearts]

It's Baldmore girls season!!!!

[disasterbiwriter]

For what it’s worth, Luke doesn’t hate Christmas.

Okay, yes, the commercialism sends him into a tailspin, but he’s hardly alone there, right? And light pollution is bad enough for migratory birds without the Griswolds of the world throwing up 500 strands of blinking fairy lights. And he does hate about 99% of all Christmas music and he doesn’t care if he is alone in that respect – why is a wife-beating son-of-a-bitch like Bing Crosby considered a Christmas staple?! 

But that doesn’t mean he hates Christmas.

He does like the quiet parts of Christmas, what little of them remain. Although not religious, he can appreciate a Christmas hymn – his earliest Christmas memory is dozing on his dad’s shoulder in front of their Christmas tree, his mother’s sweet, rusty voice humming O Come, O Come, Emmanuel. And he’s not such a Grinch that he doesn’t appreciate a little kid’s joy on Christmas morning: he still remembers Lizzie’s unparalleled delight upon opening up her Lite-Brite the year she turned five.

His stomach curdles when he thinks about his sister. This is the longest they’ve ever intentionally gone without speaking – unintentionally, well, that’s always been more frequent. He lost track of her for the entirety of 1982 and most of 1985. Not that there’s much Liz probably has to say to Luke that she hasn’t screamed at him on the phone since the horrible day that Child Protective Services took Jess.

 Jess. The curdled stomach comes back with a vengeance. He reaches automatically for the bottle of Tums that he’s taken to keeping in his back pocket, shakes three out into his palm. He wonders for the ten thousandth time how his nephew is, whether he’s scared, whether the gifts Luke sent for Christmas made it to the foster home – Deirdre, the foster mom, is perfectly nice but does not believe in returning phone calls.

Okay, so this year, maybe he does hate Christmas.

[enbysiriusblack]

jegulily au where regulus is a rogue demon that wants to do good, james is a mischievous angel that doesn't care much for their rules, and lily is a demigod intent on ignoring her godlyness.

like i imagine regulus and james hanging out on earth all the time, regulus trying to fix things, and james causing minor trouble. and lily is just there who can very much tell neither of them are humans, but you know what? fuck that. she is not getting involved in this dangerous, supernatural world and is intent on ignoring them both. james, however, is infatuated with her and regulus and would just like to chat to them, please. and regulus keeps having to undo james' pranks and it is pissing him off at this point, angels are meant to be doing good, not playing stupid pranks, and why is there a demigod staring at him? is she a spy there to drag him back to the underworld and torture him for being a terrible demon? fuck.

[anxiouspotatorants]

A post season 7 New Years fic where Rory is alone in NYC and accidentally invites her entire Facebook friendlist over to her house, leading to a massive messy party featuring appearances from not just obvious people like Paris and Lane and Jess but Lindsay Lister, Marty, Glenn Babble, Hep Alien, the year 1 Yale roomies, Bill and Belinda and many more where everyone is surprisingly cordial and there’s lots of healing and closure to go around makes no actual sense in canon but I want it.

[jojoblessed365]

An early birthday present from me to me...

A Summer fic of Jess and Rory reconnecting in 2024 and an expansion of my case study on "what if Jess had a baby brother?"

Dedicated to @ernestonlysayslovelythings who's my Jess and I'm her JD. I hope you guys enjoy their dynamic.

A special shoutout to @thefirst3chapters for helping me hammer out the logistics of the relationships in this fic.

Special shoutouts to @disasterbiwriter @sarabethsilver @stellaluna33 for being my all-time favourite fanfic author and their different posts about Literati and Gilmore Girls sparking my fanfic-writing fire...

[stellatekintsugi]

Rory Gilmore

[imyourbratzdoll]

love your luke dane’s writing!! would love something about post break up hate fucking/ getting back together through jealously fucking in a bathroom stool or something, of course size and daddy kink 🫡

hello. please don't hate me, but I was so caught up in writing the story that I only noticed the daddy kink after I had already finished... I hope you still like it, and I do apologise. thank you so much for liking my stories and requesting this.

summary - you and luke broke up, and at a town event, you have to watch him and his ex, causing you to flirt with lorelai's ex and ending with luke taking you apart.

warning - smut, angst, choking, jealousy, mentions of cheating, creampie, breaking and entering.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

This was stupid. Why were you getting jealous of her being here? Of her having all of Luke’s attention, something you felt you never got when you two were together. Was she the reason he broke up with you? Did he realise she was better than you and that he could do better? You couldn’t bare this. It was too much. How were you supposed to stay at this damn town event when all you could see were the two of them? No matter how many times you moved, they always appeared everywhere you went. 

You went to the bar that Taylor had so graciously allowed and ordered yourself a whiskey, needing something strong to get through the night. You lean against the counter, drumming your fingers against it as you look sadly down at your drink. “What’s a pretty woman like you doing all alone over here?” You huff, rolling your eyes slightly at the pickup line and turn your head toward the man. Your eyes widen somewhat when you see Max, one of Lorelai’s exes. 

“Max? What are you doing in Stars Hollow? I thought…” You trail off, staring at him with furrowed brows. “How have you been?” You give him a soft smile, resting your hand on his bicep. 

He chuckles, grinning. “I’ve been good. I was just passing through, and my car broke down.” He shrugs as if it’s nothing and continues to smile down at you. “You look good.” Your smile widens.

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.” The two of you talk briefly, and some flirting is added to the conversation before you excuse yourself. “It was nice catching up with you, Max. I think I might go home and get some rest. I hope we can catch up some other time?” He nods, giving you another smile before bending down and placing a kiss on your cheek. You turn and begin to head toward your house, and the sadness starts to set in that you are headed toward an empty home, one that used to be filled with so much love and joy. You make your way up your porch and to your front door, unlocking it and walking inside. You don’t notice the grumpy man sitting in his old chair that he still hasn’t collected. You turn around after taking your coat off and hanging it up, jumping when your gaze lands on him. “Luke?! What are you doing here?!” 

He grunts, standing from the chair and stalking toward you. You back into the wall as he traps you, bringing his hand up to your throat and squeezing. “Did you seriously think flirting with him was okay? Are you trying to make me jealous?” You whimper, squeezing your thighs together as your cunt throbs. 

“Weren’t you doing the same? Isn’t that why you left me? For her?” You argue back, “You know. The woman who cheated on you!” The rage and sadness were building up inside you, confused about why he cares or feels he’s allowed to be jealous. You push against his body, not wanting him so close to you. You could feel yourself breaking with him being so close, his scent reminding you of the times he’d hold you close. Tears began to fall as you stared into his eyes. Luke moves closer, his tears forming before he smashes his lips against yours. You whimper into his mouth, hands curling into his shirt, pulling him closer.

“Jump,” Luke grunts against your lips, catching your legs and wrapping them around his waist as he carries you to the couch. He sits, pulling you into his lap as your lips move rapidly against one another. He reaches down, unzipping his pants and pulls out his throbbing member. “You’re mine.” You moan as he pulls your knickers to the side, lining his thick mushroom tip against your sopping entrance. Luke’s head falls back as he pushes in, groaning at how tight and warm you are. “Mine. Didn’t want to leave you.” He pulls your head down, cupping the back of your neck. Your lips were nearly touching as he stared deeply into your eyes, slowly moving you up and down. “I couldn’t let you get caught up in staying with a guy like me. You deserve the world, and I can only give you the view of a diner.” Your movements become slow as he talks, and you crash your lips into his.

“I don’t care.” You whine, panting against his lips. “I don’t want the world. I want you. I want the diner.” You bounce faster, needing to cum, needing to feel closer to him. “I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.” You push yourself closer to him, pressing your lips into his harder. Your tears mix with his, causing the two of you to be able to taste the saltiness. 

Luke’s hand that is cupping the back of your neck moves to cup your cheek, and his other moves down your body, gripping your hips before thrusting up into you, holding you close. “I love you too, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” Your bodies begin to move lovingly with one another. You move to bury your face into his neck, whimpering and pressing kisses into his skin. “Love you so much.” Luke groans, wrapping his around tightly around you as he begins to pound into you, needing to feel you cum around him, needing to fill you. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Please.”

You moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your arousal flows out of you, cumming all over his cock and pants. You cling to him as he buries his cock deep inside of you and cums, filling you to the brim with his sperm. You both pant, catching your breath, and you lean back with his softening cock still inside you, and you look at him. “Did you mean it? Because I don’t want you to get back with me because you pity me. I want this to last, Luke. I want to marry you and hold your last name, and I want mini versions of us to run around the diner. I don’t want to do this if you aren’t all in.” You feel yourself choke up, staring into his eyes.

Luke cups your cheeks, stroking away the fallen tears. “I’m all in. You can count on me, Y/n, because I am all in.” He leans forward and presses a kiss on your lips.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[chronicowboy]

all you have to do is call my name (i'll be there) | 40k

December arrives with a brisk chill in the air and,

"The smell of snow." Buck takes a deep breath, his eyes closed, cheeks flushed, nose red. Eddie is painfully in love. "There's nothing like it."

"Its not snowing." Eddie deadpans, a hand on Christopher's back to keep him steady just in case of ice.

"Buck thinks he has psychic abilities when it comes to snow." Maddie tells them.

"I can smell snow!" Buck insists. "Its coming!" Eddie snorts. "Just you wait and see, Diaz."

"I've never seen snow." Chris mumbles. "Mom wanted to take me to see it for Christmas, but grandma and Abuelo wanted us to spend Christmas with them."

Eddie clenches his jaw against the nauseating wave of emotions that rushes over him. Its guilt for missing out on all of Christopher's Christmases and for leaving Shannon to deal with his parents alone. Its anger at his parents for being so them and Shannon for leaving. Its pain at the sadness in Christopher's voice. Its longing for Christopher to have his mother. Its disappointment and inadequacy and fear and misery and a thousand other things he's helpless to do anything but suffer through.

And then its love, such overwhelming, all-consuming love and gratitude for Evan Buckley.

"Oh, Chris, you'll love the snow." He says, eyeing Eddie carefully. "We do a snowman contest every year."

"Really?" Chris grins. "Can we make one together?"

"Of course, we can, superman!" Buck ruffles his hair. "We'll be unstoppable. I already know the exact spot to make it."

"Should we let dad help?" Chris whispers.

"Hm, I'm not sure." Buck stops and makes a show of inspecting Eddie from head to toe. Eddie does not blush, thank you very much. "He can watch."

"Well, that's just rude." Eddie gets them moving towards Chim's studio again. "I'll make my own snowman just to beat yours."

"Yeah, okay, Eddie." Buck scoffs. He stops at the steps up to the shack and turns to them with a grin. "Welcome to your first ever Star's Hollow town meeting. You will never be able to return to this moment ever again." He scoops Christopher up as Maddie and Eddie share a look and they head inside.

(OR: Eddie Diaz needs to get away from his divorce and his stifling parents, so he moves away to a tiny town called Star's Hollow, and promptly embarasses himself in front of the obscenely attractive Greek God/Golden Retriever diner owner.)

[oflights]

In your drarry gilmoregirl au who is going to be luke-character and who the rory/lorelei part? Or is it not meant that literally of an AU? :)

hi!! so harry is luke, draco is lorelai! it's based on this post of mine from a while back. it's def more of a fusion than an AU though, like they are still wizards and their town is magical etc. to be totally honest, it's just an opportunity for me to indulge more in my draco + scorpius + stepdad harry thing lol.

this might be cruel since i still don't know when i'm finishing it, but here's a snippet from the first chapter!

“Can I have some coffee too?” Scorpius asks, and Harry sighs.

“No. You can have more water or some orange juice.”

“But I already ate an entire orange!” Scorpius cries, holding up the remaining peels. Draco looks between them with a smile, equally used to this routine and not taking sides, as if he has no stake in his own son’s nutrition.

“Well done; that should stave off the scurvy for a little while,” Harry says, exasperated with both of them. Draco doesn’t help matters by sitting there and fucking moaning about the coffee. It’s ridiculous; Draco’s love of coffee is probably a good percentage overdramatic and played up, another piece in a series of little rebellions—his parents had never been coffee drinkers.

Harry won’t call it out or question it, though. There’s a reason he’d never gotten Draco a coffeemaker or taught him to make his own.

“Please?” Scorpius asks, because of course he’s not done. For all that he’d apparently been an agreeable toddler, he is a stubborn, sometimes argumentative 10-year-old, and always worse in his father’s presence. That’s because, and evidently so judging by the pleased smirk on Draco’s face, Draco is never prouder of Scorpius than when he’s giving Harry a hard time.

“No,” Harry says, something he tries to be good at saying to both Malfoy men whenever possible. He tries really hard, actually. “Not until you’re older.”

“That’s rubbish,” Scorpius says, grumbling down at his empty plate. He looks up when Harry swipes the plate away, a surly resentment on his face that makes Harry hold back a snicker. Draco’s worse about that, cupping his hand over his mouth and not really succeeding in hiding his amusement, which at least gets Scorpius’ glare turned on him. “Dad, it’s not funny. I want to try it!”

“Coffee stunts your growth,” Harry says before Draco can get successfully tricked—Scorpius has known since he was 8 that framing things under the guise of intellectual curiosity tends to get Draco to agree to them. Draco is certain he has a future Ravenclaw on his hands, and he’s rather excited about how Scorpius is going to torture all of his Hogwarts professors. Harry, though, thinks Draco’s got it wrong—Scorpius is the very best of House Slytherin. He plans to make and win a bet with Draco on it.

“Says who?” Scorpius asks.

“Says—science. You don’t need your growth stunted, Scorpius. You’re already pretty short for your age.” Harry grins as the glare grows hotter, Scorpius’ eyes narrowing.

Chuckling again, Draco rubs his hand up and down Scorpius’ back and says, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Your parents are both tall; you’ll hit your growth spurt soon enough.”

“Not if you drink coffee, though,” Harry says, and puts down a glass of orange juice with a hearty thunk. It sloshes but doesn’t spill, which means his spellwork on the glasses is holding—he’s Charmed all of his glass and dishware to be spill and break-proof, doing the research and asking Draco for help building the spells right around the time Scorpius was going through his 4-year-old Chaser practice phase.

Scorpius scowls, and Draco barely hides his amusement behind his overlarge mug. He meets Harry’s gaze, eyes sparkling, and Harry reads gratitude there, a sort of camaraderie that Draco will rarely admit to out loud, one that Harry can only sometimes convince himself is real.

[eyesfullofsttars]

☆ little hcs of abigail anderson's; gilmore girls!au

synopsis: looking for abby in the small town stars hollow? here are a couple of spots to find her

notes: idk what i'm doing with my life but i'm rewatching gilmore girls because it's been fall for a while so this came out!!!

series materlist | (williams' version)

are you in search of abby? oh, she's likely...

Having breakfast in the cafeteria before class, wearing her immaculately pressed Chilton uniform and adhering to the dress code, her blonde braid perfectly complementing her always tidy appearance. Her typical order includes a bitter black coffee and a couple of plain French toasts, prioritizing flavor over extravagance.

If you didn't find her there, she might be studying for her upcoming exams, either in the cafeteria again or on one of the nearby benches. You can spot her by her uniform, although in her free time, she's usually dressed more casually: loose jeans, sneakers with blue accents, and a navy blue sweater knitted by her grandmother in winter or fall, though she prefers a simple tee with a non-childish or band print in warmer weather.

You'd better look for her in the library, where you'll find her in the section of books written by women, or perhaps hiding embarrassed by her own choice in the young adult romance section, searching for a teenage romance she doesn't think will happen. You might also find her in the antique store, browsing aimlessly when she needs a break from studying, looking for an ancient relic she didn't realize she needed.

As a last resort, if finding her is urgent, you can go to her home, a large two-story house with a white porch, blue walls, and tall trees around. Just climb the whitewashed porch stairs and knock three times on the door, with the possibility of being greeted by Jerry or Abby herself in pajamas, with a pencil holding her long blonde hair, as you've interrupted her study session!

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Miriam Weissman Bruce is a confident woman.

At this point in her life, with a successful career under her belt, as well as experience as a mother and grandmother, it would be silly for her to be timid.

Ella, however, is less sure of herself. While she's had a very successful album come out in the last year, she's still only sixteen. She follows her grandmother quickly as she walks quickly through the hall of Chilton, the older woman's heels clicking against the floors beneath her.

"This place is fancy," Ella comments.

Her grandmother waves an unbothered hand. "All these ritzy schools are the same. They all have stuffy, goyische headmasters, and they all want the same thing: booster funds."

Ella giggles a little as she looks around. "Great place for a music video."

"Uh-uh, young lady," Midge scolds. "You are supposed to be focusing on your studies, and on being a kid. Once you graduate high school, you can dive back into the music. But for now, you've got an education to get, and friends to make, and trouble to get into. And not the kind of trouble you find in the industry. Kid trouble."

"Yes, Softa. Sorry, Softa," Ella mutters, looking chastened.

Midge sighs and stops walking, turning to her and cupping her face. "You are so fucking young. You have so much time. You don't have to do everything all at once."

The girl nods and looks sheepish, and gets kissed on the head for her trouble, her grandmother pushing blonde curls from her face.

Midge smiles at her and then looks around. "Where the fuck's the office?" she ponders as she takes Ella's hand and starts walking again.

"Mrs. Maisel!"

"Weissman-Bruce," Midge corrects, whirling around to face a woman she assumes is a secretary of some sort. "I'm not on stage. It's Mrs. Weissman-Bruce."

It's the secretary's turn to look chastened. "Of...of course, Mrs. Weissman-Bruce. If you'd follow me..."

Midge nods, and keeps hold of Ella's hand as they follow the other woman. She leads the into an outer office and smiles at them. "If you'll just wait here a moment."

"Sure," Midge grins, not bothering to sit on the leather couch. "Tell Headmaster Charleston he needs more signs."

The secretary laughs nervously before disappearing behind a heavy wooden door. She's back a moment later, holding said door open. "Right this way."

Midge gestures for Ella to go first, and she does, stepping inside, looking around at everything.

"Ah. Mrs. Weissman-Bruce. Miss Bruce," an older man says as he gets to his feet. "It's very nice to meet you both."

"Hi," Ella responds, shaking his hand.

"I was under the assumption that Ella's mother would be joining us as well," Charleston comments.

"She had a work emergency," Midge explains as they shake hands. "Consider me the official, sanctioned stand-in."

"Well, I suppose better you than your husband," he jokes.

Midge snorts. "Please. You'd be lucky to have Lenny here instead of me, he's a way bigger pushover."

"She isn't wrong," Ella comments. "Pop-Pop is very amiable."

"And I will eat you alive," Midge promises with a smirk.

"Well, before you do, may I introduce Ella's student guide for the day," the headmaster chuckles nervously. He gestures to a slight brunette girl sitting in a chair off to the side. "Rory Gilmore, this is -"

"Oh, we know Rory already," Midge assures him. She turns to Ella and straightens out her tie. "Go with Rory, Sweetie. Softa needs to tell Headmaster Charleston what's what."

Ella nods and Rory gets to her feet, the two girls stepping out of the office together.

"That is a side of Midge I don't think I've ever seen," Rory comments.

"Oh, yeah, she saves it for these kinds of situations," Ella assures her, before taking a breath. "So...hi."

"Hi. Long time no see," Rory jokes.

"Yes, dinner at the diner last night was a million years ago," Ella laughs softly. "I'm guessing this place is a little bit of a piranha tank."

"A little," Rory confirms. "You get used to it. Or you have a nervous breakdown and change schools."

"Oh, a challenge," Ella grins. "Lead on."

Rory smiles and leads her out of the office. "We'll pick up your schedule first, and then I'll show you around."

"Just point me towards the music department," Ella orders.

"It's one of our stops," Rory promises. "But you have to see the other parts of the school."

"Those are the boring parts," the blonde complains.

"I know, but you do have to go to your other classes," Rory laughs. "You can't just hide in a practice room all day."

"Oh, ye of little faith," Ella marvels.

"Schedule."

"Fine."