#literati drabbles

[disasterbiwriter]

good morning, darlings. meet clarissa!

[penhive]

Assorted

Still Life Prose

Still Life akin to still life painting as an art of writing where objects of nature are beatitudedized into figural epiphanies.

Still Life Prose of Rain and Thunder

Rain is clapping on the roof. It has the rhythm and melody of a poet. The loudspeaker of the sky bangs with an awful noise.   Light is a woman wearing pink lingerie. The earth’s loins are wet with gusto. Nature is an awesome poet.  It evokes in me pathos, a joy of a song, a heart’s peace, a surreal nuance, a beatific amusement, a depth of love and the warmth of the heart.

Still Life Prose of a Butterfly

You winged dandy, you muse of succulence, you paraphrasing wings, of ode of a beautiful nuance, you etiquette of aesthetics, you song of joy, you nature’s sweet hymn, you soul that has known passion, you ethereal danseuse, you mystic bard, you poem of passion, you heart’s sweet chamber.

Still life prose of a moving curtain in the wind

The folds of the curtain are singing lyres. The curtain sings a lyrical limerick. Its momentum is a like a lover thrusting into a vagina. The swish of the air is a lullaby to hear. I am undergoing an existential epiphany.

Ayan Rand’s objectivism versus my subjectivity

For the Philosopher of Ayan Rand man is driven by the heavy chain of reason. And reason has to be used for the pursuit happiness. I counter her by saying man is driven by the subjectivity of meaning. My philosophy of subjectivity is called as Feminamenology taken from the words feminine and phenomenology. Man’s existential states for Feminamenology are subjective, poetic and dialogic. Humans are driven by the need of instinctivizm.  We have irrational outlook when we face life.  We celebrate life by finding meaning and joy. It is an epiphanic meaning as transcendence, negation, and affirmation. Subjectivity celebrates life in all its frailties and imperfections. What is meant to be poetic? It is the soul and heart of love and feeling. It is bliss of joy. It is the celebration of awareness It’s a transcendental experience of passion reaching out the fulfillment if life. It’s a joy of existence. What is meant by the dialogic experience of life? Dialogic experience is an inter-personal relationship with others. Through mutualism we attain a dialogue of tuning into a betterment of relationships. As humans we are subjective mytho-poetic entities.

[solo-ojo-jojo]

Just wrote about 1K of a Gilmore Girls fic. Starting out, I thought it might be a short little drabble (or multi drabble, if that's a thing), but then I was struck with inspiration. It is now 4 partially-written chapters. 😄

If only I could have this kind of writing mojo when it's something I'm writing on a deadline. (I'm looking at you, Secret Santa fic exchange)

Oh, well.

Coming soon to a web browser near you: My first Literati fic.

[windowsandfeelings]

20 Questions Game for fic writers

tagged by @terrainofheartfelt and @slumped-in-the-arms-of-fiction (<3 <3 <3!)

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 25! (But I've written a lot more that are scattered across ffn and livejournal. I've been at this a while.)

2. What’s your total ao3 word count? 153,671

3. What fandoms do you write for? Eternally Gilmore Girls, lately also Nancy Drew, and not for a while, but perhaps most notably Gossip Girl. (I've written for other fandoms, too, but not recently.)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? All the Lights that Light the Way are Blinding (Gossip Girl) November 24, 2016 (Gilmore Girls) Met You at the Right Time (Gilmore Girls) The River in Egypt (Gossip Girl) The Boyfriend Tour of North America (Gilmore Girls)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to, but I'm definitely behind on it at the moment. I so appreciate every comment I get (okay, every nice comment I get), and I want to acknowledge them.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hmm...I don't really do angsty endings. Maybe I Am Sorry to Tell You? But that's mostly because Lost hadn't actually ended yet when I wrote it so I didn't have a way to get Rory and Jess off the island. But it wasn't really presented as angsty. (I have occasionally considered writing a sequel.)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? All of them? IDK, maybe MYatRT? Just because it takes such a long time to get to it, but I think it's earned.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Occasionally, yes, mostly on All the Lights..., or people commenting on other fics and shitting on All the Lights... in the process.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind? I write v v v light smut.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written? lol, I wrote a Barney Stinson/Buffy Summers ficlet once.

I would say I'm not a huge fan of crossovers, but I wrote a bunch of short ones back in my lj days because a couple of my friends had a crossover fic contest...really more like drabbles.

And then of course there's I Am Sorry to Tell You. Because I got really into Lost at one point and had to find a way to combine it with Gilmore Girls. And honestly I think it came out pretty well.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I don't think so, but I've definitely seen stolen fics.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yeah! Someone translated All the Lights... into Russian!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I can't remember. Maybe back in my ffn days? Nothing is springing to mind.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? LITERATI 4 LYFE

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? I'd like to finish Saturn Return someday, but I don't really know where it will go. Which is why it's unfinished.

16. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue, probably? I wasn't comfortable writing dialogue for a long time, but especially since taking screenwriting classes a few years ago I feel much more confident in it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I struggle hard with plot. You want me to figure out what's going to actually happen in a story? Ugh!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I would probably only do it in French or maybe very basic Spanish, because that's the extent of not English that I'm confident in.

19. First fandom you ever wrote for? I'm pretty sure the first fic I ever wrote was a continuation of someone else's post-season 1 Gilmore Girls fic that they hadn't finished, but I never published it. (I still have it. It's hand-written...and bad. Because I was 13.) The first one I ever published was a Harry Potter fic on ffn. Also bad. Very unfinished.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written? 100,000% Met You at the Right Time. I could not be more proud of that thing if I tried. It was a labor of love, but it also came out exactly the way I wanted to, which is just...nearly impossible to imagine. Like I could quibble with some of the writing, especially in the first couple of chapters, but at the end of the day...it's really good. Which is not a humble statement, but it's true.

tagging: @wonderlandleighleigh @oh-bonerline @strangenewgirls @stellaluna33 @georgianadarcies and anyone else who wants to do it

[enchantedfanfictions]

If the whole world was watching, I'd still dance with you

Drabble request from @jessmcriano for the prompt: "You make me feel all soft and mushy inside." "That's a good thing, right?" "Of course! You melt me love." and slow dancing in the living room.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

Rory sighed contentedly as she finished the last page of her book, stretching her arms above her as she uncurled from her place on the sofa. As she stretched out, she heard a small chuckle come from the armchair as her boyfriend peered at her from the top of his own novel. 

“Good ending?” Jess asked her, closing his novel and placing it to the side. Rory nodded in response, watching as Jess stood up, making his way over to the cd player on their side table.

“What are you doing?” 

“Oh nothing.” Jess replied, humming slightly as he shuffled through their CDs and placed one in the player. Rory waited patiently for him to find the right track, smiling fondly as the intro to Sam Phillip’s ‘Reflecting Light’ filled the living room. Jess turned to face her, holding out a hand in a mock bow. 

“May I have this dance?”

“You may.” She responded, giggling as she took his offered hand and was pulled off the sofa. Winding her arms around his neck, they swayed back and forth slightly, the only noises in the room being the soft chords of the song and the faint shuffling of their feet. Every so often Jess spun Rory around before pulling her back to him, ending up in a closer embrace than before.

Rory smiled at him fondly, pulling him in for a kiss and halting their swaying for a moment. Once she pulled back, Jess looked a her confused- fondly but confused.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"

"I never knew that you could be so romantic," she teased, resuming their swaying.

"What can I say? When I'm with you, you make me feel all soft and mushy inside." He responded, spinning Rory out again.

"That's a good thing, right?" She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck once more.

"Of course! You melt me, love." He whispered, just loud enough that she could hear it. The song came to an end as he pulled her in for another kiss before ending the dance with a mock bow.

As Rory headed up the stairs, he called her name causing her to pause on the middle step and turn towards him.

"Tell anyone about this and I'll hide your books for a week."

"Your secrets safe with me."

--

Okay, I started writing this with AYITL Literati in my head but I feel like it's more S3 Literati (definitely younger Jess and Rory). Hope you enjoyed!

[frazzledsoul]

Gilmore Girls AO3 stats, courtesy of me

What is the most popular fic in our fandom, sorted by kudos?

Does @dollsome-does-tumblr have the most popular fic in every fandom? Probably. Congrats!

What is the most popular ship in our fandom?

So I was a bit surprised at how big the gap is here. I knew Literati was the most popular and that they outpaced L/L a while ago since I don't think people really write L/L stories anymore and the writers tend to be older and prefer FF.net anyway but seriously, close to double the amount of Rogan fics? However, when I used to write Rogan drabbles I would put a bunch of work into them and get little response, so whatever. I think if your ship is more of an open question it inspires more fic.

Who is the most popular character in our fandom?

No surprise that Rory, the queen of multiple ships, reigns supreme, but I'm mildly surprised that Jess comes in fourth.

What kind of crossovers do people write with our fandom?

Super shocked that Supernatural is #1. Never could have called that one.

26 GoT crossovers? I guess we have a foolproof way to get rid of Christopher.

So I thought the RPF tag was going to be a bunch of really inappropriate stories about Alexis and Milo, but it's mostly compilations and any time someone was inspired by a Taylor Swift song.

[enchantedlandcoffee]

First Line(s) Challenge

Thank you for tagging me @justahappycloud and @parentalziam. I'm going to cheat a bit as well and do a first lines challenge 😅

Rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to AO3. (Sort by date posted.) If you have less than 10 fics posted, post what you have.

When The World Is Cold, You'll Have A Place You Can Go.

Louis dropped his keys on the side as he entered the house, kicking his shoes off and sucking off his jacket, He'd been caught in a snow storm after Niall had ditched him at the library and his entire body felt like ice.

Bloodline of Queens

"I'm going to get you." Harry telled as he chased an older boy around the room. Tripping over furniture and rugs, the other boy dodged his grasp and slid under the table, crawling into the cupboard behind it.

Just Let Me Adore You

Louis reclined his head back, basking in the sun as he leaned back on his elbows, He glanced at the figure next to him, chuckling softly as his boyfriend threw an arm over his face to peer back at him.

Can we please get back to lovin'?

Beep! Beep! Beep! "Shit! Shit! Mother-fucking- useless piece of-" Louis swore, rushing towards the microwave to stop the incessant beeping before it woke Harry.

Kiss In The Kitchen Like It's A Dancefloor

"I'm off! Thanks for making breakfast, Lou!" He heard Harry call from the entryway, followed by a small groan indicating that he'd hit something.

There's no one I love more in this world than Stanley Tucci

Harry fumbled with his keys as he reached his front door, precariously balancing his Brits in one arm as he attemtped to quietly unlock his door.

Two Hearts In One Home

"That's it for today everyone! Thank you so, so much for watching. I appreciate every single one of you. If you enjoyed today's video as much as I did, hit that subscribe button if you haven't already and give this video a big thumbs up..."

You Know They're Engaged, Right?

Like most Friday nights, Danbury's bar was crawling with students from the local uni who were desperate to forget the work piled on their desks. Groups gathered in the corner, shouts overlapping each other as orders were thrown at the bartender.

Literati Drabbles

Birthdays at the Gilmore House had always been largely celebrated, and Rory's 36th birthday was no different.

Tagging (no pressure) - @hellolovers13 @paranormalbabydoll @faithinwalls369 @goldenkinglouis and @larrysballetslippers

[daftbitch]

Hi! NSA here! Sorry for the radio silence, I've been going through it in the mental health department. Plus work and all. I haven’t been able to write at all even though I want to. I hope you’ve been well despite, you know (gestures to the general state of the world)

Omg though pinning a post to call out to me u///u I’m flattered!

You wanted to hear my thoughts about Doe's Nekomamushi fic, and I will share them now! I did read it, but I was so FED that I wanted to devote the proper energy to address what I all liked about it, and I was far too tired to do that this past few weeks. And just kind of… not in the mood to engage with something positive when my brain is in the pits. But now I am here.

A while ago, someone sent Doe an ask referring to the drabbles I sent you and saying she had competition–I wanted to scream! Don’t compare us! T_T She’s got far more experience under her belt! The Nekomamushi commission is proof enough of that. Just incredible work.

Here’s my thoughts:

The intro is masterfully set up. Just paragraph after paragraph of vivid imagery of the location and the sensations of running through a tangled wood and the thrill of it all. Like 14 paragraphs before we even see Nekomamushi, and none of it is boring. I’m like hitting my head on a wall from a writer’s perspective because it’s so well done! The sun setting and the following hush are great transitions to the last part of the chase and really set the mood. I especially love when Sterling wonders to herself if Zunesha sleeps!! It’s such a small but poetic detail that really helps ground her in the world she lives in despite that world being so whimsical.

"A daring glance back was too tempting to resist." I love this sentence and how it transitions to the reveal, I love the emphasis on hunting grounds. But I think my favorite part of maybe the whole fic is the end of the paragraph: 

“So in tune with nature here, it made her shudder. It almost flowed around him, with the ease at which he caught up.”

It’s sooo good! I can picture it perfectly and I just love the concept; such a master of his environment that it feels like the forest moves around him rather than the opposite. Coolest shit ever and something I can easily visualize.

And man, Doe is like a master of mood. After the buildup of the chase and the reveal, literally the moment his paw comes down and pins Sterling I’m on the edge of my seat with anticipation. And from the very start the dialogue is fucking hot:

"Well, little kitten, I've got you-gara right where I want you…there is no place in this jungle where I couldn't find you…"

DAMN I mean talk about starting off strong! And their back-and-forth is so cute and hot.

"Adrenaline and heat, all swirling together. I would chase that scent anywhere, kitten. I'd find you anywhere, until I could have you."

OTL I CANNOT, and immediately followed by "I'll always be yours."  !?!? Im GONNA SCREAM!!

“...causing the beast to rumble in approval. That sound was felt all the way to her core.”

Doe hits all of the monsterfucker motifs: the growling of a beast being felt physically, the heat, the strength, the size difference, for some examples. She has an excellent understanding of the draw of the whole thing and knows how to execute those aspects very well.

Also. ALSO.

"They say you shouldn't tempt the beast." - "I think the beast is tempting me. Don't make me wait."

Fucking SUPERB I love the dialogue so much.

"Eyes on me, kitten."

The dominance and being called “kitten” grjgjdfskhfsj. I know I write the same thing but that’s because IT RULES (no pun intended) and Doe does an amazing job at it

The buildup to the actual penetration, the threat of the edging and the dirty talk is drawn out perfectly and is literally so hot it makes me dizzy. And it all builds up to the tipping point/high point/climax (literaty-term-wise) that is making Sterling beg for it, before you even get to the main event. 

“Nekomamushi's Sulong form is always a bit rougher with her than his daytime self. The beast took what it wanted, and thought of her wellbeing later on once the throes of heat had cooled. But Sterling liked the thrill of being at the moon beast's mercy, a cunt to be used to breed and nothing more.”

Again with Doe showing 100% understanding of what the appeal of monsterfucking is. We love to see it. And then you actually have the main event and it’s 6 full sizzling spicy mastercrafted paragraphs before the first orgasm, like. I don’t know how she does it! Then we get 3 more before Nekomamushi’s?? 

Then a perfect resolution and closing line, which is always something I struggle with. The whole thing is Literally 1000/10 work.

Man, I aspire to write stuff like this. I really look up to Doe as a writer.

That’s about all of my thoughts on that. T_T I love fics I love OCs and self inserts and reader inserts I love writing (I hate writing) I love writing. How have you been, KP? I hope things are okay for you.

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU FOR SO LONG!!! I WOULD WAIT A MILLION YEARS FOR YOU TO COME BACK TO ME!!! I’M SO HAPPY YOU SAW MY PINNED POST I THINK OF YOU ON THE DAILY!!!

I’m not gonna lie when I saw this at work I literally started jumping up and down and screaming with joy silently, of course, but I did jump up and down. I want you to take your time and reply to me whenever you feel OK there’s no time limit and I’m always gonna be here. Also, it’s OK if you don’t wanna come off anon that’s completely your choice. And I don’t fault you for that at all.

After I read through your message all the way I literally called Doe and I read her this she was literally so happy She said it made her week and she’s never had such an analytical review of one of her works before she knows the time and energy. It must’ve taken for you to write all of this and source actual lines from her story

She said she greatly appreciate you for doing that very much and if you ever want to go over to her blog and just be on anon to just go ahead and do that if you want.

I reread that story a couple of times a week because it’s a literally, my favorite, and that one line with Sterling just being a Cunt to breed literally always sends a tingle through me. It’s literally my favorite line of the entire story. 

My friend I greatly appreciate you so much and you don’t know how much joy that you bring me every time you message me I always get really giddy and giggle a lot that’s how much I look forward to you. 

I’m always here if you wanna talk to me if you even want to make a side blog and keep your self anonymous that way and go into my DM’s. If you just want to talk I’m totally down with that too. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with or we can continue communicating this way it’s literally whatever.

And I have so much more I want to tell you and I look forward to hearing from you once again, it brightens up my entire day. You have no idea !!!

I am doing pretty good. I’m getting over a back injury and Covid. I go see the Barbie movie on Saturday. I’m very excited for that. Hopefully you can see it too if you want. 

 I have so much to tell you and I would like to discuss a bunch of horny stuff with you, but just general stuff in general 

I hope this finds you well, my friend 

[givereadersahug]

Tag people you'd like to get to know better!

Thanks for the tag @lumosatnight <3

Three Ships: THORKI! My heart. ❤️ (Don't be fool! While my Tumblr is currently HP focused, one of these days I'll fall back hard into *Thor and it'll be Thor and Loki and Thorki 24/7. *I consider Thor and Marvel as separate fandoms.) Matchablossom from SK8 the Infinity. 🍵 🌸 Snirus/Snack from HP.

First Ship: Raven/Robin from Teen Titans (the Cartoon Network show). Justin/Alex Russo from Wizards of Waverly Place. Literati from Gilmore Girls. Harmony from HP.

Last Song: Currently listening to Carly Rae Jepsen's The Loveliest Time album! It just dropped. Like an hour ago.🤭 It's her B-Side to her Loneliest Time album.

Last Movie: I literally just got back from a showing of the new Haunted Mansion (2023) film. It was a fun time!

Currently Reading: Run Towards the Danger: Confrontations with a Body of Memory by Sarah Polley

Currently Watching: From

Last Thing I Wrote: Working through the prompts from @harryjamespotterweek. Each little drabbles should hopefully feature a different ship. Here's the series on AO3.

Currently Writing: I should be working on at least 4 different fest fics that is not the one mentioned above. Ummm. You didn't see me here. *runs*

Tagging (but no pressure!): @ashariewrites @serenaew @broomsticks @ladderofyears @hey-flynn @liladiurne @acydpop

[disasterbiwriter]

welcome to "calling and not calling my ex - part 1"

[austennerdita2533]

Slide on back, into this hometown photograph

Summary: Rory and Jess are just two old friends who find themselves perched, shoulder-to-shoe, on the gazebo steps with autumn dusk at their backs and a bottle of Miss Patty’s wedding whiskey between them, plus one glass each.

The night may be young but the sparks between them are not. After all, there's nothing like a celebration of love to stir old feelings...

(Canon divergent + Wedding Reception Fix-It) (Best Man Jess + Maid of Honor Rory)

(AO3) (FF.net)

It starts off innocent enough, he thinks.

There’s a short ceremony, frilly anecdotes, laughter. No bad moods or empty chairs. Fresh, crisp weather and cinnamon sticks. An exuberant motormouth bride who’s escorted by her beaming grump of a groom. Quirky table settings. Leafy napkins. Champagne. Live music once the band finishes tuning, the set list comprised of a multitude of Lane-approved songs from which the guests can choose and then be entertained for hours upon hours. Plus so much engorging food it’d make Willy Wonka himself bust twenty belt loops.

There’s no shortage of eccentricity whirling about at all times either. It’s more like a clownless circus than a wedding soiree what with a pig ring bearer and an accessorize-your-own snow cone booth that’s parked near the diner, not to mention the roster TJ’s circulating through the crowd so he can captain a new flag frisbee league on a vacant Doose-owned lot that was, supposedly, the site of a lettuce stampede a few months ago, but none of that’s surprising at an event like this one. Not here. Not for a town like Stars Hollow, no way.

Somehow that’s fine. Preferable to him, incredibly enough. Whatever.

It seems Jess has grown more tolerant of this place over time, who knows when exactly, but the blaring lack of Elvis Costello lyrics in his brain these days makes it true. A begrudging fact to be more accurate. And although confessing such an abhorrent thought would’ve scandalized his teenage punk of a self into incredulity once, now, despite the close-knit insanity that abounds everywhere he looks or moves, and with the sum of it being nothing short of entertaining and refreshingly jarring to behold, he finds he doesn’t hate it here any longer.

Nope. Consider his attitude changed. His resentment markedly dissipated. Hell, one could almost accuse him of looking forward to his visits back every now and again.

Isn’t that wild? Princess Bride inconceivable at best. The thought is so downright riotous he wonders if perhaps one of Babette’s lawn gnomes may’ve hypnotized him back in 2002.

(If pressed on the veracity of that pleased-to-visit accusation, though, he swears he’ll deny it. One hundred percent. Scoffing through his teeth for extra measure like the smart-assed delinquent Taylor probably still assumes he is at his core.)

It probably helps that no pesky or unfortunate stirrings from the past have dragged him asunder in Stars Hollow for a while, either. And for that, he’s grateful. It allows him to breathe easier at present. Relax. Relieved, frankly, that he and Rory can be at this reception together without awkwardness, without misgivings of any sort. Both of them enjoying the tulle-tied pomp and swirl of festivity around them instead.

It’s nice, isn’t it, Jess admits to himself as he peers at her sideways. Whatever this is. Her mouth’s poised around a pumpkin-headed utensil with her nose scrunched ironically at the moment, blue eyes shining, all while another five references rest on the tip of her tongue that are bound to amuse him once they fly out, and fly out they will. Shortly.

Yeah, he decides with a crack of his knuckles and a lazy smile. The comfort and familiarity they’ve always shared is still there, stirring subtly. It buzzes around them like a cozy undercurrent with no off switch.

Despite the many years he and Rory have spent apart, and no matter the surplus of sparse emails, text messages, or outdated addresses they have or have not exchanged in all that time, they always seem to fall back into it as soon as they reunite, don’t they? Ease. Amity. That ability to simply be who they are.

Like a worn yet jostled feather drifting on air, or an inked over whisper emboldening in the back of his mind, Jess feels the inevitability of that settle between them again.

Their gazes connect, spark, but there’s no pressure. There’s nothing to crinkle meaning into what they are or are not this evening. No expectations whatsoever. Just two old friends who find themselves perched, shoulder-to-shoe, on the gazebo steps with autumn dusk at their backs and a bottle of Miss Patty’s wedding whiskey between them, plus one glass each.

The alcohol is a tasty addition to the cake they’re sampling.

As it turns out, there are twelve different kinds thanks to the chef and best friend of the bride who seems to have arbitrarily decided that sugary gluttony doesn’t apply to those with the last name Gilmore. Or to anyone else who dares to try and eat alongside them tonight in button-popping solidarity. Not that Jess is complaining or anything, because he isn’t. And that’s shocking on its own given his disgruntled history with town events.

With ice cream by the dessert wayside or not, though, he’s satisfied. Stuffed full but content. Each slice of cake he’s tasted - number seven and counting - has been delicious. Just delicious.

Still, with no iron stomach of his own, and a frosting limit they’ve long since surpassed, he finds he appreciates the boozy reprieve more than she knows.

Liquid celebration, Rory calls it as she pours. And he agrees. It’s the perfect phrase, smiling broader then because he knows the warmth in his chest has nothing at all to do with a stupid drink or a home-brewed fifth of whiskey, though he can’t deny the heavenly sting a perfectly aged malt elicits as it slicks down his throat in one smooth swallow. Nor does it come from the next generous swig or two he takes after they toast beneath the twinkle lights Kirk has accidentally ripped loose because he caught the bridal bouquet with his teeth earlier - yes, his teeth - thankfully landing in decorative hay instead of atop Sookie’s elaborative dinner buffet, but it has everything to do with those canoodling newlyweds in the center of the town square over there and the emotion that had shone from his uncle’s face during his Best Man’s speech. A moment that had Lorelai blotting at her mascara in touched surprise herself. No matter how much she’d love to deny it.

He knows that whatever’s sloshing through his insides may have something to do with her, too. Rory. She’s propped against him, barefoot, her toes pinched and sore after too many hours in uncomfortable shoes, babbling and laughing like old times. Like there’s nowhere else she wants to be.

Though Jess is by no means a sentimental man himself, not in an overt way in any case, it’s safe to say a few more kernels of feeling have popped out of him today given the occasion and - yeah, okay - maybe because of the surrounding company as well.

Bizarrely, with her one arm looped around his bicep, and pop culture references rolling off her tongue like a dictionary game, he feels as if he’s come home in a way. Not to a place per se, but to a select few who’ve scooted aside and made room for him in their lives. Including him as if his presence matters. Treating him as though he belongs unconditionally; no matter what, no matter when he may or may not pop around in the future.

It’s an oddly pleasant feeling, to be regarded. Disarming for a man who’s spent most of his life feeling abandoned, on his own much of the time.

So the warmth gushing through him at present is not only foreign, unsettled in potency, but also painstaking and persistent. At least in the sense that it continues to vibrate gently inside him as he and Rory sip their drinks in companionable babble and quiet.

He feels the buttery splash: an amber liquid molting against his ribcage that requires no draining or denying the more the wedding revelry sinks into the background and it’s just them. Just this. Just reminiscence and emotion regarded like a snapshot photograph. It’s something which continues to evade conscious defining as the minutes continue to tick away faster and faster because it turns out the woman next to him is a not-so-innocuous additive that somehow manages to sharpen then inebriate his senses without trying. She simply talks, talks some more, and all feels right with the world.

Huh. Isn’t that something?

Odd, probably, that Jess is not at all freaked out by it when he knows he should be. He faults the booze for that, definitely the booze. It muddles everything.

“So how many broads have you wowed with your dance moves so far, Gene Kelly?” Rory asks as she refills his glass and hands it over.

“None.”

“You’re kidding.” Incredulous, “You haven’t danced with anyone?”

“Nope.”

“Come on!”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he shrugs.

“How? I mean…you must’ve been forced to endure the Macarena or the Cuban Shuffle or something! Or, I don’t know, maybe Miss Patty and Babette roped you into a three-to-tango situation so they could fight over who got to dip you before one of them accidentally grabbed your butt? Those two tend to become rather handsy after they’ve hit the hooch. Always going after some young stud and mistaking him for Miss Patty’s Prospective Husband Number Thirteen, so it’s okay. I’ll listen.”

“It’s just us,” she elbows him, grins playfully, “you can tell me. You can own up to your bad luck. It happens to the most unassuming of former hoodlums in the Hollow. I promise I won’t make fun of you for it…” She slides her tongue across her teeth to repress a laugh, “Much.”

When Jess waves this off as inaccurate, too, Rory looks all the more aghast while a tinge of scrutiny causes her forehead to scrunch. Intent to assess whether or not he’s telling the truth.

“Fine,” she rests her chin on his shoulder and sighs. Takes a sip of her drink. It appears something in his smirk has convinced her to change tactics. “But I still don’t believe you.”

“Ouch. I feel like I should be offended by that,” he laughs.

“Wait, crap. Crap. That’s so not what I meant! Let me—” A pause. “It’s only that Grandma’s been pouncing on people since the music started,” she says, “shoving any poor sucker she could find under the twinkle lights so the photographer she hired - against Mom’s encyclopedia-length DON’T YOU DARE pre-wedding conditions, might I add - can snap a plethora of suitable candid photos for her expensive Lorelai Gets Married album. I, myself, was paired with Michel no less than four times! Four!”

“So the point I’m trying to make is this: nobody is exempt from at least a twirl or two before the night ends.” Poking him, “Not even you.”

“Funny how that falls somewhere between an offer and a threat, Gilmore,” he says with an unexpected twinge once he realizes what she’s suggesting.

“Oooh. Finally caught on, did you?”

Amused, he leans forward on his elbows. Cocks his head, “I suppose this means you’re asking if I’ll pencil you in, miss?”

“Indubitably, sir. Well—both you and your two left feet that is,” Rory amends with a wink.

“Lame. What a poor choice of cliché. “I mean, listen, I lived in New York City and could prove to be Fred Astaire swingin’ good for all you know.”

“Are you?”

“Hell no.”

Laughing, “Good. You nearly had me worried there. I’m no Ginger Rogers either so we’ll be well-matched. Now up, up, up!” she says with a finger snap. “Time to show me how well you dip, mister.” A hand curled around his tie, which she’s flapping against his shirt, Rory stands and yanks it over her shoulder with a conspiratorial smile.

Without warning, she tugs Jess behind her into a swell of bodies and music before enough sense returns for him to concoct an excuse and wriggle out of it; which, were he to attempt it, would classify as a Luke-like default in every way.

Seemingly determined to claim at least one dance, though, Rory brokers no room for argument. She wastes no time in wrapping his arms around her waist. Next she moves her feet, her knees, her hips to the acoustic beat of the song in the hopes he’ll mimic the movement.

It doesn’t take long to match her rhythm, with him transitioning them smoothly from a sway into a rock.

They teeter closer and chatter to fill the empty space. To curb the tension. Her head brushes against his cheek a little too intimately during the chorus, her touch tantalizing on his nape, but neither one of them draw back. Neither one of them pull away.

Numerous sets lapse before they retreat back to the gazebo perch, their cake and whiskey stash replenished, the hour growing late.

The guests have largely cleared out by now. Only a few stragglers remain who are too drunk, too comfortable, or too tired to care about two old friends who have slipped off together again. Alone.

Apparently all it takes is a wedding party to nip Stars Hollow’s “nosy neighbor” defect in the bud temporarily. Amazing, isn’t it?

Content to watch Rory slide her arms through the sleeves of his jacket, which he’s just draped over her shoulders before the November chill can make her shiver, Jess allows himself to rake over her features for a second, unhurried. To catch a whiff of her floral perfume. Bottling up another memory. Then he becomes much braver than he usually dares by reaching forward to thumb off a fleck of leftover icing on her cheek, chuckling because she flushes, because she pats around for a napkin in vain, holding her eyes longer than he knows he should afterward because her pout is adorable and cuter than he remembered and - oh, screw it - he might be slightly tipsy. He might be drunk off the curves of her face.

Shit. What if things between them aren’t as simple and benign as he wants them to be?

She looks pretty, man. Too damn pretty.

Jess realizes he may be lost for good now, dazed by sweet proximity. He’s a satellite slipping back into the gravity of the once-upon-a-them he thought had broken off long ago, gone astray, combusted so as to no longer be a part of this reality. So what is happening?  

Soon Rory’s blinking back at him.

Embarrassment fading, a small smile forms at the corner of her mouth, the moonlight a trickle of pearls on her skin. One, two, three seconds more and everything else recedes further when she catches him lightly by the wrist before he can think to pull away.

The move surprises him. That ABORT, ABORT frequency in his mind has dulled down to a slow hush, a simple nothing.

They’re alone here, cocooned in a little niche they’ve procured with happy understanding of the other’s needs. This shared solitude is an alcove. Their temporary respite from the remaining crowd and today’s craze.

Swallowing, his throat suddenly dry, Jess stills. Rory idles, her face paned in gentle curiosity. Their gazes tangle with something precarious, a question, something long since buried.

Can this be happening again? Really? Can an ember this old, this burnt up, return to the wick and still catch flame?

Once she shifts closer on the gazebo steps, however, tilting into his touch, her skirt spilt across his legs, he doesn’t bother trying to retie the knots around his heart. What’s the use? There’s a stupid sonnet of nothing and everything building inside of him that he hopes to find the strength to voice before it dissolves in his mind and it’s too late. But he can’t find a pen. He can’t write it down. There’s no room left in his head for words at this point, anyway.

Helpless, he’s stuck on the other end of her spaghetti string like that stupid Disney mutt, the Tramp, and he hates himself for it. Hates it. Yet still owns it all the same.

It’s too exhausting trying to figure out what the hell it all means, so he doesn’t try. Doesn’t analyze.

He’s so sick of rebuffing those edge of seventeen flutters that lurk in his recesses like a hot spot. A reservoir of feeling. He’s so done with all these highlighted passages in his periphery that refuse to fade with time.

He can barely breathe let alone think about the erratic drumbeat spiking in his ears after her palm glides over his pulse point, down the cuff, up his sleeve…

He can hardly refuse when she’s crumbling his self-control, towing him in like he’s already caught…

So he lets go.

Surrenders.

Giving into the ache before it swallows him up whole.

The air charged, unable to glance away, Jess lets his hand fall. Rory takes it into her possession immediately. His other one hovers in the air a moment, tentative, then comes to rest on her shoulder.

It seems the lapels of his tux jacket have flattened a few tendrils of her glossy hair beneath the collar, so he slips a hand underneath it to free them with a deft brush of fingertips against her neck without a word. Afraid to break the spell. Afraid to move even as they both lean in and bump a whiskey glass with a little plink from a clumsy ankle, and smash it to pieces.

Distracted, neither one of them flinch. They disregard the shattered glass entirely.

Eyes locked, resistance faltering, Rory tugs him once, gentle and prodding. Though encouragement is plain in her face, it’s courage he lacks. It’s courage he needs most.

With only a breath left to cross, to finish it off, and with their foreheads already touching, Jess knows one inch more will doom him for certain. He knows one inch less will kill him right where he sits, no joke. And jeez, how big of a chump he feels to admit it without blaming something else first.

Does she notice, he wonders? Does she perceive an iota of this conflict? Can she sense the war he’s losing or has he gotten too fucking good at inscrutable emotion?

“Jess?” she asks softly, the sound more like a pant than a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Should…are we about to do something smart or stupid?”

“I…” reeling, “I don’t know. Could go either way.”

“If you had to pick?”

“Do you, uh,” he pushes bangs from her face, “do you really need an answer?”

“Only for clarity’s sake,” she says, “but yeah.” Biting her lip, “If you can.”

“Right.”

“So?”

“Both then,” he says with a protracted sigh. He won’t lie to her; he never could. “Definitely both.”

“Right. Okay.” She mulls it over. Her eyelashes flit against the bridge of his nose. “Both.” Tenderly, Rory cups his jaw, runs her fingers through stubble that never used to grow there until he’d reached his late twenties. “I think,” her mouth ghosts against his cheek, beckoning, “I think I can live with a little contradiction in my life,” she smiles. “Can’t you?”

There’s no turning back after that.

His lips throb, they’re already bruised with want. Burning. They’re already smarting from a mark of affection Jess remembers too well from his past dreams but knows hasn’t been anything concrete in years, not given, not taken, not tasted since they were a couple of kids and bad timing was the ultimate champion reigning between them.

But there’s not a single obstacle in their way now, is there? No problems. No boyfriends or girlfriends lurking. No friends, no family members, no town folk who are raining down judgment or wondering if they’ll regret this in the morning.

So where Rory leads next he’s bound to follow. He feels it in the bending, in the liquid pooling of his bones. Who is he to resist? Who is he to try and temper the fire spreading through him like a nuclear bomb as she wraps her arms around his neck? Pulling him in, holding him against her like she never plans to let go again.

Jess shuts his eyes. Decides to close the remaining distance. He’ll take this chance, damn those consequences, worry about cauterizing the hurt he’ll more than suffer from later.

Yeah, later…

After all, how can he pretend any of this is innocent? What could be less indifferent than making out with his ex-girlfriend behind a gazebo at his uncle’s wedding reception?

Reckless or not, he’ll live with it.

[scarlet4rose]

forget about her

Jess Mariano x female reader y/n

Jess <3

It was a friday night and i was standing in my uncle's diner washing dishes. Luke had gone somewhere half an hour ago and left the dirty dishes to me. I kinda felt a bit embarrassed.... even Luke was up to something, while I had to remain in the company of his dishes.

The truth was, I hardly had anything better to do.

On a Friday night. A new low point in my already very unglamorous and unspectacular life in Stars Hollow.

My mind drifted away. I could walk around the neighborhood, I could wander -by pure chance- to the gazebo where y/n liked to hang out. And if she wasn't there, I could walk a few steps further, I could walk down her street and I could- bullshit.

No, I couldn't. I might as well embarrass myself even more than I already did whenever I was around her. God, if only-

Yes, maybe I liked being around her. And yet again, I didn't. Because, no matter how hard I tried, I could barely take my eyes off her once she was near me.

Sometimes I felt as if my affection was painfully obvious, but she had never really reacted to it. Her eyes, her lips, her smile. If her smile was directed at me, I barely managed not to smile back. It was such a strange feeling, but I loved it. Sometimes I even thought I loved her. Fuck. I did.

I had fallen in love with y/n. I didn't mean to, it just happened. But how could anyone not love y/n anyway?

I had talked to her several times at school, I didn't have any books or a pen with me, and I definitely had no idea what we had assigned as homework. She was always incredibly kind and unbelievably beautiful. She even was still beautiful the other day when she had told me to bring my own stuff next time, since she started to feel like her books had now become mine as often as I had them.

I couldn't tell her I not only wished for exactly that to be the case, but that I especially wanted her to be mine, too.

Well, obviously, there was no way she could ever be. Shit. Shit. Shit. Of course she deserved someone better than me. She deserved a guy who bought her roses, whose parents had a real house and a real job. As an ... accountant or something. She was all I could think about, nothing was more interesting to me than she was. I wondered what she could possibly be doing right now. What if she was thinking about me, too? I could love her, I would hold her in my arms and take her out like those guys at school take their girlfriends out. Technically, I thought the whole thing was pretty unimaginative and cheesy, but, yeah, maybe I could bring myself together for y/n.

No. I would try and fail. At being her boyfriend. At being good enough. Once again. She could never want me the way I wanted her. The way I needed her.

I guessed it was for the better anyway. I knew very well all I would do was disappoint her and she didn't deserve any of that. Pensively, I lowered a white plate I had just cleaned.

It would probably be best if I forgot about her.

(first fic I´ve ever written, as if, I'm totally clueless)

[enchantedfanfictions]

Gilmore Girls Masterlist

Literati

Literati birthday

Summary - set three years after AYTIL, Rory and Jess have been dating for 6 months. On Rory's 36th birthday she gets a visit from her boyfriend who had been away on business.

Literati Living Together

Summary - set after my 'Literati Birthday' drabble. Jess spends his day at home with Sookie-Lane after her daycare closes.

[frazzledsoul]

You rate Logan above Dean but only just

I probably like Logan more than most Literati fans do. There was one point where I was pretty neutral about a post-AYITL love triangle and I was even going to write this long AU where Luke and Lorelai had the secret ability to peer into what their AU selves were doing and Rory and Logan were endgame in that fic. I never did it (I did write some drabbles in that universe, though) but the fact that I even was going to do it obviously means I don't hate the guy...as a character, at least. Now my mentality is Team Literati but let him co-parent and in my head that is exactly what happened.

So it's slightly higher than just above Dean but lower than Jess. Dean is trash, though. No argument from me there.

[spicykoreantatertots]

Holiday Hideaway

Pairing: Jungkook and Female Reader

Word Count: 628

Genres: Established Relationship, Fluff, and Implied Smut

Warnings: Domestic Jungkook

A/N: Merry Christmas @smartkookiee​!! I’m so glad I got the chance to be your Secret Santa and get to know you a little bit. I’m also excited to give you this gift! I wrote this drabble for you and was also inspired to make a moodboard bc what is more aesthetically pleasing than traveling JK? Lots of love, Dasher. <3

~~~~~~~

The dribbling sound of the coffee pot and the bitter smell of the french roast drag you from your slumber. A chill runs down your spine, reminding you of the freezing temperatures outside. You bring the comforter up to fully cover your bare body and roll onto your side. From what you can see, the bedroom of the cabin is in shambles. Suitcases and bags are haphazardly thrown by the door, clothes that had been peeled off in a hurry are now scattered on the ground, remnants from the night before. After a five hour drive into the mountains, your boyfriend couldn't wait to get his hands on you.

Christmas morning is normally filled with dramatic family arguments, cooking fails, and disappointing gifts that were obviously picked out at the last minute. But this Christmas will be different. This year you have Jungkook.

He knows how easily stressed you get when you have to pick out gifts or plan visits to all your friends and your family. So this year the two of you decided not to give each other gifts, but instead pool your money for a few nights at a cabin in the mountains.

There's clattering from the kitchen, so you decide to get up. Stepping on the cold wood floor sends another chill down your spine. You quickly reach for Jungkook's long red flannel and a pair of fuzzy socks. You sneak out of the bedroom and into the small living area of the cabin. Jungkook is looking through the cabinets. His long hair is fluffy and slightly frizzy, and he's wearing a pair of dark gray sweatpants. The edge of his tattoo sleeve is just barely peeking out from under the long sleeve of his t-shirt.

"Hey baby." You murmur as you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"I didn't mean to wake you." He replies as he slowly turns to face you. He places a kiss on your forehead, but it isn't enough. You grab his face in your hands and pull him down for a real kiss.

"I'm glad you did, I can help you with breakfast." You look past Jungkook's broad shoulders to see that he's laid out ingredients for making pancakes.

"No sweetie, I got this." He replies with a smirk. You linger for a moment, eyeing the ingredients he’s set out. Everything seems to be in order, he even remembered to get chocolate chips.

“Let me do this for you.” He adds before leaning down to kiss you again. 

“Okay baby...” You respond, still not moving from your spot in the kitchen. He places one hand on each of your shoulders and turns you around, lightly patting your behind to push you out of the room. You make your way across the living area surveying the cabin. You hadn’t taken much time to look around when you first arrived.

The cabin is small, but just what you need. One bedroom, a bathroom with a big jacuzzi tub, a kitchen, and a small living area with a two seater dining table and loveseat positioned right in front of a fireplace. The only thing resembling Christmas decorations is the winter wonderland outside.

The forest surrounding your cabin is still, the evergreen trees unmoved by any breeze that blows by. A fresh sheet of snow sits untouched. You would think it's a painting if it were for the occasional snowflake floating by. The serene image in front of you is soothing and the normal anxiety of the holiday is melting away. It's replaced by the sweet smell of pancakes and a warm bliss when you see the domestic scene unfolding before you. For the first time in a long time, you're looking forward to many more Christmas mornings.

A/N: Shoutout to @lovely-literati​ and @ho-baebae​ for your love, support, and beta reading. Love you both. And one last Merry Christmas to you Lauren! :)

[jessmcriano]

the irony when Milo is a huge comic book nerd IRL

literati + 25?

25. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“Oh c’mon, it’s not that bad! Besides, someone needed to cover it for the paper and I pulled the short stick.” 

“I think I just saw Wonder Woman… except it was a fat hairy guy.” 

“Yeah, my boss warned me about those.” 

“Rory, my eyes!” 

“Oh don’t be a baby,” Rory teased, swatting at Jess playfully. 

Jess and Rory made their way through the show floor, weaving in and out of people and somehow still managing to remain attached by their hands. Swarms of men, women, and children,all dressed in various crazy costumes surrounded them. They had already been rudely corrected by a guys dressed as some sort of Pokemon that it wasn’t a costume, it was cosplay. Jess had rolled his eyes, Rory had jotted the term down. 

“So I have to be at some anime panel at one o’clock,” Rory began, already knowing the answer to the question she was about to ask. “ Did you want to join me?” 

“I think I would rather spend the hour staring at Bigfoot’s impression of Wonder Woman,” Jess deadpanned. 

“Thought so,” Rory replied, squeezing his hand affectionately. 

“You know, I distinctly remember hearing stories of little Jess being a fan of comic books… why don’t you check some out while I go?” 

“Only because one of Liz’s deadbeat boyfriends left them behind when he finally got tired of her and bolted. I haven’t picked one up since I was like 10.” 

Suddenly, he was being dragged through the crowd as Rory forcefully navigated them over to an area that had boxes and boxes of comic books stacked one on top of another. 

“Well then Jess Mariano, welcome to your childhood!” Rory announced, spreading her arms out to the rather impressive collection that laid before them. 

Jess winced at the comment, and Rory, quickly realizing what she had said, wrapped her arm around his waist, rested her chin on his shoulder, whispered, “Well, at least a happy part of it.” 

He turned his head to kiss the top of hers and gave in saying, “ I guess I could take a look at these.” 

“Great! I’ll have my phone with me so just text me if you need anything. Though, I’m not sure how good the service is in here.” 

Rory untangled herself from him. 

“I don’t have my phone,” Jess said as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world. Although he had a cellphone, he didn’t often carry it around, something Rory had been trying to change for a while now. She pulled it out her purse smugly and placed it in his hand.

“Good thing I thought to bring it.” 

She kissed him on the cheek before sending him off and turning around to leave. Rory looked back, however, when she heard a gasp escape her partner’s mouth. 

She turned around to see Jess flipping excitedly through a comic book, only noticing that she was staring when he heard he begin to giggle. 

A sheepish look came over his face, his cheeks growing slightly more red. Rory just shook her head and smiled as she turned back around and continued on her way. 

That night they came home with about eight new pieces of reading material.