#those hazy lazy crazy days of summer

[clara-ontheroad]

Streets of Malasaña, Madrid

I'm currently in Madrid and I've been feeling so happy and comfortable in this city after only a couple of days ! Follow me on Instagram for all the travel updates 😊

[culturevulturette]

Bring it on!

Today’s MOO-d 🐮

[buckysgrace]

7. Is It Over Now?

Broken Hearts Club Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

You break your deal with Patty.

CW: Handjobs

His lips were sliding against yours messily, hotly as your lungs burned from the motions. His large hands were at your hips, squeezing your flesh as he pulled you closer to him.

His uniform shorts were pushed down his hips, hair brushing against your wrist as you squeezed your fingers tighter around his throbbing girth. His tip was leaking across your palm, making it easier for him to rut against your palm.

You trailed kisses across his neck, grazing over the hickey you had left on his skin earlier. He moaned each time you flicked your tongue out against the sore area, grinding his cock harder with the jerk of your hand.

“Feel good?” You teased him, nipping the side of his jaw as another low groan left his lips. He should’ve left about ten minutes ago, but you had been too delirious with lust to let him go so easily. You wanted him all the time.

“Mhm,” He groaned deeply, eyelashes fluttering as he rocked himself harder with your motions. You looked down, feeling a bit weak as you stared at how large his cock looked compared to your hand, “Fuck, right there.” He replied roughly, gaping as you dragged your hand up and down the curve of his cock faster.

You watched his features in fascination as they wrinkled up in pleasure, gasps leaving his mouth as his whines grew louder and louder. You squeezed your fingers tighter around his cock, licking your lips as his tip leaked messily onto the ground. 

Your own moan left your lips as he messily rutted his hips forward, cock twitching as thick ropes of cum fell from his tip. You moaned at the sight, dragging your fingers slowly along his pulsing girth. He whimpered again, a lazy smile forming on his lips as he looked at you. 

“Fuck,” He groaned, lips parted as you licked his cum away from your hand, “You’re incredible.” He praised, making your insides warm. 

“Thanks,” You bit your bottom lip, knowing it was a bit crazy to feel so complimented over a handjob, “So are you.” You told him seriously, a bit smitten with him. 

“I’ll see you later?” He breathed out, eyes still hazy and cheeks flushed as you teasingly fixed his shorts over his hips. You really hated that he had to work today. 

“Later,” You agreed, leaning forward to peck his lips, “You can come over again if you want.” You added softly, knowing your grandparents wouldn’t say anything. They would just tease and you had learned how to handle that. 

“Or you could stay here,” He suggested with a smile, “I could pick us up something. Or I could cook.” He thought about it for a moment, wrinkling his dark eyebrows together. You fought the urge to lean forward and kiss his temple. 

“Ooh,” You teased him, “Sounds romantic.” You added, fully alright with that. You weren’t sure if he could actually cook, but you figured there was no harm in finding out. 

You sent him a wave as he left, ensuring that he was well on his way down the road before you searched for your discarded bike on the front of the lawn. You had something you had to do too. 

You’d had enough. You couldn’t pretend like you didn’t like him anymore. You were crazy about him, completely and utterly. It was more than a crush, more than just liking him. It scared you.

You needed to tell Patty it was over, that you couldn’t do this dumb little game anymore. But that terrified you too. She was going to be angry. And you were sure she was going to do whatever she could to sabotage you. She never let go of things that easily.

You straddled your bicycle seat, taking a moment to get comfortable before you were off. Your phone calls to her wouldn’t go unanswered anymore. You needed to tell her face to face, although you wished you had the safety of a phone line between the two of you. 

The air was hot and muggy, still clinging to those final summer days as you felt like you were breathing in through a wet rag. Sweat gathered at the back of your neck, down your back by the time you made it down the familiar road. It was nice over here, always had been. Patty’s family had money.

You dropped your bike off carefully at the mailbox, staring up at the pristine door as you delicately made your way up the clean steps. You could tell by the loud pop music drifting from inside that she was there. Now you just had to make her talk.

You pulled your fingers into a fist, taking a deep breath of courage before you pressed your knuckles against the wooden door. You waited a second before you continued, sure that she had to be hearing you from inside. She was just being difficult. 

“Patty,” You continued to bang on her door, irritated with her attitude, “We need to talk.” You did your best to keep your voice at bay, not wanting her to hear how urgent you felt. She’d be suspicious then. 

The music slowly died on the inside, making your eyes widen as you waited in anticipation. Your palms were sweaty, heart thumping deeply against your chest from the nerves that were eating at your stomach. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked you curiously, cocking a neat eyebrow into the air as she looked at you in irritation. You swallowed the urge to snap at her. 

“You’ve been ignoring me.” You told her gently, forcing your lips into a smile to appear as excited as you could. She looked at you inquisitively. 

“I’ve been busy.” She stated as she placed her hand on her hip. You glanced behind her, taking in the pristine living room. You didn’t want to dance around this any longer. 

“I need to talk to you,” You replied urgently, “Now.” You nodded your head, not missing the look that crossed her eyes. She wasn’t happy with you, that much was certain. She was about to be really angry. Furious. 

“This better be worth it.” She sighed as she stepped back, letting you walk inside. You accepted, breathing in the cool AC as you followed her towards the kitchen. Normally you’d kick your shoes off, but you kept them on to be safe. Just in case you needed to run.

You didn’t feel comfortable enough to ask for a drink either, even though your throat was dry and itchy. You could pick something up from one of the corner stores on your way back home. Or maybe you would reward yourself with an ice cream cone. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” You blurted out, looking at her seriously so she knew you were serious. You thought of Steve, knowing you couldn’t face his look of rejection. You couldn’t remember why you had even agreed to doing it in the first place. 

“What do you mean?” She asked you as she twisted her fingers through her hair. She was obnoxiously chewing on a piece of gum, doing so in a way that she knew aggravated you. Just because she could. 

“The bet with Steve is off,” You told her seriously, “I’m not doing it. Not anymore.” You shook your head, watching the way she rolled her eyes dramatically. 

“You don’t know how to have fun, do you?” She sighed as she sat down on one of the barstools, pouting her lips out as she clicked her nails against the counter. She appeared to be pondering, plotting on her next move. 

“I’ve been having fun with him.” You spoke slowly, not meaning to brag about it at all. It was just the truth. You liked Steve too much to hurt him. You were in too deep now. 

“Oh,” She seethed a second later, “I see now.” She furrowed her eyebrows together angrily, her lips pressed into a thin line as she glared at you. You shifted in your spot, feeling awkward as you tried to collect your thoughts. You didn’t want your friendship to end in such a bad way, but you knew you’d be okay if that happened. 

“I can’t hurt him, he’s a good guy,” You told her honestly, “I’m sorry you two didn’t work out but we have something special.” She continued to stare at you, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up at the way her eyes cut into you. 

She rolled her eyes and snorted a moment later, bringing her hand up to her face as she laughed. You blinked slowly, not understanding what was so funny.

“Do you think he’s really into you?” She asked you, lips still pulled into a smile, “I mean, the guy has been moping around because of Nancy Wheeler for months. You don’t have anything special, you’re just a rebound. Second choice.” She brushed you off, chipping away at pieces of your heart. 

“We do.” You told her earnestly a second later, thinking about everything that Steve had told you. He wanted to move with you, to follow you into college. Your life was set up to be with him, you knew it was true. 

She tilted her head as she watched you, making you wonder if she regretted anything that she had said. You would never speak to her in this manner, even in anger. She was supposed to be your best friend, but she was mean. She always had been. Steve didn’t treat you like you were a second choice, but she certainly did. 

“You really want to do this?” Patty questioned you as she rose from her seat, taking slow steps as she approached you. You held your ground, not the least bit intimidated by her. You had seen her fight before. She didn’t hit hard. 

“Yes.” You answered, feeling no doubts in your mind. You wanted Steve, even if it meant losing your friendships. You could make more friends. With Steve. You would both be okay. 

“Do you think he’ll want to be with you when he finds out the truth?” She asked you, striking the part that made you most nervous. You still hadn’t been able to tell him and maybe that had been your biggest mistake.

You were quiet for a second as she crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes glimmering with mischief. You knew what she was going for. She wanted to know if you had told him. 

“I’m going to tell him.” You nodded your head slowly, trying to keep your heart from beating out of your chest. She was toying with you. 

“And he’ll understand?” She questioned as she cocked her eyebrows, like she knew the answer to that. You chewed on your inner cheek, wishing you knew. You had no idea how he would react and that’s why it was so scary to you. You didn’t want to hurt him. But you’d put yourselves into a sticky situation and there was nothing you could do to change that. 

“I haven’t been wanting to do this for some time now.” You answered instead, hoping she would realize how serious the two of you were. That had to mean something. You hoped that he would understand, that he wouldn’t be too mad. You had fallen for him, so quickly and deeply. And part of you knew from the beginning that you wouldn’t be able to hurt him. 

“Right,” She laughed as she inspected you closely, “He totally won’t have any issue with what you’ve done.” She shook her head, pressing her lips together softly. 

“He’ll understand.” You spoke out loud, trying to reassure yourself more than her. She wrinkled her nose up. 

“I think it’s best that you leave,” She said a second later, “I have plans for today.” She stated as she placed her hands on her hips, waiting for you to go. You did so without another word, panic forming in your bones. 

You understood one thing perfectly. You needed to get to Steve first. 

Tags: @sassidykassidy

[thatdesklamp]

Sometime in Summer, Before 2004

set in ‘intrinsic warmth’ canon, because I needed to write something happy and I thought I should share it <3

Satoru can’t believe you don’t remember when you met him.

“This means you hate me,” he says to you, one day, in the Chapel. It’s mid-July, hot and sticky, and the weight of the heat in the air has made him lazy.

He’s got a white shirt on, and he’s pretty sure he’s got some sweaty patches there—if he was with someone else, Satoru would put in some effort to hide them, because someone else would probably think it was gross, but it’s you, and so he doesn’t need to. He likes that about you: it’s one of the many things he likes about you. You know him so well that he doesn’t care about things like that anymore. After all—Satoru flattens his hair down over his forehead—you don’t care about his new haircut, which he hates more than anything anywhere at anytime ever.

Satoru’s lying on his back with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling with hazy eyes. His sunglasses are crooked on his nose, and he pushes them up.

A few days ago, he’d used Limitless to try to throw a pillow at you, but he’d overshot it and accidentally blown a hole in the ceiling. He does feel bad, just a little, mainly because you haven’t stopped talking about how cold the winters are going to be. Satoru would like to tell you that you can just get close to him for warmth, but he hasn’t mentioned it because he’s such a good friend.

He thinks about that, maybe more than he should. He would like it if you could get over your whole touch thing, because he wants to be able to touch you. Sometimes, in the winter, he’ll see you shivering on your own, this huge divide between the two of you, and he just wants to put his arm around you and stop you from being so cold.

You’re always telling him how much of a heat radiator he is—my space heater, you say sometimes, which Satoru likes, because he likes it when you say things to him like that, like you’re staking a claim on him, that he’s your best friend, and it’s not only that you’re his—and so he figures that you should just shuffle closer sometime, and it’d be fine. Satoru hasn’t ever really touched you, and so he doesn’t know what it’s like: and he knows nearly everything in the whole world, so he wants to find out what it’s like at some point.

“You hate me,” he says again, when you don’t respond to him. Satoru looks over at you, pouting. “Why do you hate me?”

You’re cross-legged, leaning against the wall of the Chapel, flicking through a Vogue magazine. You roll your eyes and tut.

“I don’t hate you.”

“Yes, you do.” Satoru makes a big display of being really, really sad. He does this sometimes, because sometimes it’ll prompt you to say something a bit more overt, in terms of your friendship with him.

Satoru tells you all the time how much he likes you, how much of a good friend you are to him, how cool you are and how amazing you both are—but you’re more reticent with your feelings, and so he has to treasure every single time you say something like that.

He doesn’t think you know that he does it on purpose, but at the same time, you have these crazy psychic powers that you can always find things out about him. Satoru often thinks that you can read his mind—you can just look at him, and you know exactly what he’s thinking. It’s kind of spooky, but he’s okay with you having those superpowers, if it’s just you.

And it’s not like you’re going to use it for anything bad. You’re too cool to do that, and you like him. Which is really cool. You like him.

Except he’s pretending you hate him, which is funny.

“I don’t,” you say. You stop reading the Vogue—success! Satoru has claimed your attention—and start fanning yourself with it. “I just don’t remember everything in the world, Gojo.”

“It’s not everything in the world! It’s the first time we met. That’s important!”

“I remember the second time we met. That was more impactful, anyway.”

“How?” Satoru doesn’t understand that at all. “But you’d just met me! How was that not impactful?”

“I didn’t know you’d want to talk to me again,” you say, shrugging. “So, when you did, it was surprising. That’s what I remember.”

Satoru makes a face, scrunching up his nose. “Of course I’d want to talk to you again.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Course I would!” Satoru groans and then sits up, making a heaving sound. He pushes his glasses into his hair and pulls up the bottom of his shirt to wipe his sweaty face. “Agh. Too hot. Too hot, and you don’t remember when we first met, and I’m too hot!”

He looks over at you, feeling a bit petulant. You’ve stopped looking at him, and you’re focusing back on the magazine. You’re not even reading it properly—he can tell, since your eyes aren’t moving. Weird. Satoru groans again, to get your attention back, and you press your lips together.

“Hebi-Hebi,” he says. “Hey. Hey. Look at me. Look at me.”

You do. Satoru grins.

“You’re so mean to me,” Satoru says, and he rolls over to his stomach to get a bit closer to you. “So mean. How are we going to celebrate our best-friendiversary?”

You choke. “What?”

“It’s a thing,” he says, grin widening. “I’m pretty sure it’s a thing. When we became friends!”

“Shouldn’t that be when we became best friends?” you ask. You tilt your head against the wall, seeming to actually consider it. “There’s a difference between a friendiversary and a best-friendiversary, surely.”

“Oooh. Yeah, maybe.”

“So we should remember a date for our best-friendiversary instead.” You hum, thoughtful. “That would be nicer, since that’s more important.”

“So you’re saying we’re best friends?” Satoru asks, goading.

You raise your eyebrows. “Of course we are.”

You say it like it’s obvious. Satoru feels all glowy inside.

“Of course.” Satoru drags out the words, feeling how it sounds in his mouth. “Of coouurse. Of course we are! And you know what?”

“What?”

“Best friends,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at you, “should remember when they first met!”

You blow a burst of air through your lips, clearly pretending to be unamused. For all of your psychic superpowers about figuring out his thoughts, Satoru thinks he can read you pretty well too. It’s funny when you pretend to be all aloof and not like him, when it’s obvious that you actually really really do.

“You’re so annoying,” you say to him. Satoru laughs, and your lips twitch.

Ha-ha! Another success!

Satoru likes it when he can make you smile. It doesn’t happen all that often at all, and so when he manages it, it’s a huge success. It’s one of the best feelings in the world, he thinks, when he can make you smile. It’s only trumped by the times when he can make you laugh, which then is only trumped by the times you call him by his first name.

Satoru is Satoru, but you only ever call him Gojo. Which, yeah, is his name, but it’s also his name to everyone else—everyone else in the world thinks of him as Satoru Gojo, from the Gojo family, heir to the Gojo technique, which is really cool sometimes, but also really annoying and kind of not cool.

But to you, he should be Satoru. You’re the only person that he’s ever met that he’d want to call him Satoru. And so, when you don’t, he feels strange. You tell him often that he needs to get used to not always getting what he wants, but Satoru doesn’t think that he should have to, not really. In his opinion, everything would be better if he could get what he wanted all the time.

“So mean to me,” Satoru says again, without much gusto, because the day’s getting even hotter and he can’t really summon the energy to play out your usual routines.

You seem to be getting tired, too. You’re watching him with a funny look on your face, but your eyelids are drooping and you keep blinking all slowly, the way you do when you’re sleepy.

“Sure,” you say, yawning.

“Can’t believe you admit it.”

“Mmhm.”

“Can’t believe—” Satoru stifles a yawn: he caught it from you. “—that you don’t remember. I remember, Hebi-Hebi.”

“You should tell me, then.” You shuffle down until you’re lying next to him. You’re on your side, looking at him with a faint smile playing across your lips. Satoru feels glowy again. “Remind me, about the first time we met.”

“Should I?” Satoru asks, not caring about hiding his smirk. “Would you like that?”

“Maybe.”

“Then,” Satoru says, as he turns onto his side too, so you look like two mirror images of each other, if someone was looking down from the Chapel ceiling, “I’ve just got to, haven’t I? If you’d like it, then I’ve got to do it.”

Your lips press together, and then all of a sudden you’re smiling, big and wide, the way you barely ever smile in front of him. Satoru feels his stomach swoop. He loves it when you smile. My best friend, he thinks. Mine.

“I guess you have to,” you whisper, and you’re almost shy, almost hesitant. You know that you don’t need to: Satoru, surely, by now, has made sure of that. He’s spent his whole life trying to make you happy, all of his life that he’s enjoyed living. He doesn’t think that there’s anything he wouldn’t do for you, if you wanted him to. He’s certain you know that by now.

“Then I will.” Satoru brings up a hand between your bodies, and he loves how you don’t move away from him, the way you do to everyone else. You trust him, more than anyone in the world. This is what he loves, too: just as much as you are his favourite, he is yours.

Satoru rests his head on his arm, and settles in for a story; you’re watching him, with soft, affectionate eyes, and he is more happy than he ever has been. He keeps thinking that, when he’s with you. And, every time he sees you, he thinks it again. Here you are, listening to him, devoting your attention to him wholly, and you’re the best person he’s ever known.

“So,” Satoru says, so determined to keep your eyes on him, to keep your focus for ever and ever and ever, “it was a few months before my seventh birthday, and I didn’t know that I would be meeting my favourite person in the world.”

[artemispt]

Hi, do you have any good author fic recs (Carlando)? I checked out the one you posted earlier and I really liked them so was just wondering if there were others that you liked cause you clearly have great taste.

I'm happy you liked the rec ☺️ Here are some authors that have my heart (100% sure that I'll forget someone or there are amazing authors out there that I haven't discovered yet): Phebes (@phebess) Love all fics. Madlyiephasetwo (@vintage-em) Love all fics.

Hibivrooms (@interlagosed) Love all fics. Someone_worth_racing_for (@someone-worth-racing-for) Haven't had the time (yet) to read all the fics, but here are some that I love: - Someone worth racing for - Series - At the right place, at the right time - My Bad Habits Lead To You - What the heart wants - It doesn't change anything between us - About Dreams - I Will Always Be There For You, Brother

Lisafyra (@hurtsprincess) Haven't had the time (yet) to read all the fics, but here are some that I love: - Endlessly - Sanremo - Poster Boy

Choripan (@oicawas) Only published 1 series (hoping for more!): Say my name and everything just stops (i don't want you like a best friend)

Anonymous (@pitmewithyourbeststop) Love all the fics from the Carlando AUs series

Goldenboygate (@fernandhoe) Haven't had the time (yet) to read all the fics, but here's one that I love: - Black Velvet Anonymous (who are you??? You are a genious!) - From here to kingdom come

Tiredtiredsharl (@wolfiemcwolferson) Haven't had the time (yet) to read all the fics, but here are some that I love: - So take it from me - Watch this space, I'm open to falling from grace - I can see the future, say it like you mean it

Csjr (@boohowdy) Haven't had the time (yet) to read all the fics, but here's one that I love: - I love you forever, not maybe (you’re my one true love) Fox_this_lap (@redshoulderedblackbirds) Haven't had the time (yet) to read all the fics, but here are some that I love: - Perfectly Wonky - A Christmas Car-los - The End of Me

Ok, this is taking forever ahahahah so I'll just put a link to some other fics that I love: - If the Love is Pure - That’s what happens in the movies, anyways - Those Lazy-Hazy-Crazy Days of Summer (With You) - Te amo - I love you - this fic was my first adventure in the a/b/o dynamics, so it has a special place in my heart. - In my blood like holy wine

Hope you will like some of these fics. Have fun! (oh, and you can check out my tag "#carlando fic rec". I reblog/post some fics that I loved reading)

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Seasonal Fic Titles Masterlist

A Cold Winter Night (ao3) - Candy_Kittens

Summary: It’s a cold winter night with Dan and Phil.

Autumn Cuddles (ao3) - tellsfromhale

Summary: Autumn is great for cuddling.

Autumn Flames (ao3) - Fallen_angel_of_time23

Summary: Dan ownes a candle shop and one day a cadle obsessed Phil Lester stops by - to purchase 30+ candles. Yeah he’s obsessed.

autumn leaves - oqua12

Summary: Once upon a time, Dan liked to draw.(Or, the one where Dan and Phil go through a certain box in the Lesters’ attic and Dan has a lot of feelings about it.)

Autumn Rainy Days (ao3) - FandomFeels17

Summary: A lazy day in their new house with Starbucks and candles…

Blue Summer Sky (ao3) - lilactreesinwinter

Summary: Dan takes Phil on a brief adventure in New England during their tour in America.

coldest winter (ao3) - lilactreesinwinter

Summary: The door swung open and Dan stumbled through. From night into day, from coldest winter into most tropical summer. His exposed fingers and cheeks immediately began to thaw painfully, and he started sweating under his layers as he blinked his eyes against the lights. He squinted and saw someone stood against the counter at the back of the shop, looking up at him from where they had been perusing their phone.

Fuck Summer - yuurisnice

Summary: The latest London heat wave is affecting hundreds of people, but Dan Howell has a personal vendetta against mother nature.

I’m just trying to keep my baby warm through the wintertime. (ao3) - waypast0000

Summary: It’s december, Dan and Phil have a lot to do, including buy Christmas decorations and survive winter.

Or

A festive day in the life of Dan and Phil 2017 edition (but without the cameras and much more coldness).

Kings Of Summer (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan, Phil, a holiday with their friends, and a pretzel shaped pool toy.

spring days (ao3) - expiredlove

Summary: Dan and Phil have a rare day off on tour and decide to go on a walk to get some of the peace and quiet they so desperately crave on this hectic tour. Thankfully, being alone together always manages to calm the two of them down.

Summer Love (ao3) - outphan

Summary: Dan on a holiday meets a stranger who changes his whole life.

summer nights and drive-in lights (ao3) - CapriciousCrab

Summary: Playing tourist leads to a perfect summer night.

Summer of Love (ao3) - developerdaniel

Summary: Rather than try and fight with the pants he really had no chance against when he had his own high-waisted bells to deal with, he opted for something else: “Meet me in the bedroom, babe. Up in mine in 5, threads off and on the bed, but no touching,” Phil cooed, biting hard at Dan’s collarbone, ensuring he’d leave a deep dark mark, but in a spot Dan could easily cover up with one of his high-necked jumpers.

Summer Skies (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: Dan doesn’t think Phil’s left the apartment, but he redials from his recent contacts all the same, listens to the ring for a few beats before he turns back, and there he is, curled sideways on his arm on the daybed, fast asleep in the shade.

(forever home, summer 2021)

the dark side of spring (ao3) - spaceandvinyls

Summary: dan and phil had an argument and dan calms down outside. it starts to rain and fluff ensues.

Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer (ao3) - Cadensaurus

Summary: Just a day in the life of Dan and Phil, after they’ve moved into a house and gotten a dog, one summer afternoon when everything is slow and soft and quiet.

When Winter Met Summer (ao3) - cactusgal

Summary: A little love story about two feuding spirits who control the earth. One controls the cold and one controls the heat and they constantly battle for control on the planet. Mother Nature, who has taken the planet under her wing, finally decides it’s time to do something. Inspired by Heatmiser and Snowmiser from A Year Without a Santa Claus and the Panic at the Disco song "When the Day Met the Night”.

Winter Wonderland (ao3) - drxpdead

Summary: It’s really fucking cold, and Dan is agitated already because all the shops are closed. He meets Phil, a complete stranger who asked him for directions because he wants to see some Christmas lights

you make winter warmer (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: A winter night in the life of Dan and Phil, or alternatively, some gross winter fluff.

[tavoit]

Roll out those lazy hazy crazy days of summer!

[vindieselsfacebook-blog]

Meaning/references behind every Gilmore Girls episode title - Season 3, Part 1

Hi friends! It's been a minute since my last installment in this little series I've been working on. I'm trying to make a definitive, clear, concise list of the meanings and references behind each episode title. I'm going season-by-season and filling in references when I catch them.

Some titles are quite obvious and literal, but many are clever references that emphasize themes and symbolism happening in the plot or character relationships. I like trying to figure them all out and wanted to share in case I have some wrong or people have caught references I've missed or didn't know writers may have spoken about, etc. ASP has such a deep well of pop culture knowledge, I enjoy mining it.

Masterlist: Season 1 Season 2, Part 1 Season 2, Part 2 Season 3, Part 1 Season 3, Part 2

My notes: - As always, please correct anything I've gotten wrong and share your own insight! - Many of these notes are pulled from and/or learned via annotatedgilmoregirls.com - an absolute icon! I claim no author originality. I'm just the one to compile/edit them. :) - Season 3 marks the first season that pulls literal quotes from episodes for some of the titles. That was never done in S1-2 at all and 5 times in S3!

Season 3, Part 1

Those Lazy, Hazy Crazy Days Those Lazy-Hazy-Crazy Days of Summer is a popular song composed by Hans Carste. It was originally written as "Du spielst 'ne tolle Rolle", with German lyrics by Hans Bradtke, and was first recorded under that title in 1962 by Willy Hagara. In 1963, it was recorded by Nat King Cole, with English lyrics written by Charles Tobias on a theme of nostalgia. The song serves as inspiration for and the soundtrack to Taylor’s First Annual Stars Hollow End of Summer Madness Festival. In keeping with the theme of madness, a barbershop quartet sings this song on a sanity-eroding permanent loop at the festival. It is performed by Mick Foster and Tony Allen in the show.

Haunted Leg Lorelai catches a cold and wishes for a more exotic illness. “I mean, I’d like to have a good illness, something different, impressive. Just once I’d like to be able to say, ‘Yeah, I’m not feeling so good, my leg is haunted.’”

Application Anxiety Rory has some reality checks and fears about her college application process as she finally receives her Harvard application. Lorelai uses the phrase when telling Rory about the Harvard alumni visit. 

This One's Got Class and the Other One Dyes The title is a reference to a line from a campy classic film trailer for On Her Majesty's Secret Service (a 1969 spy film and the sixth in the James Bond series), introducing Bond’s love interest (Teresa "Tracy" Bond, born Teresa "Tracy" Draco, and also known as the Contessa Teresa di Vicenzo) with the line “Diana Rigg as the Contessa - the different kind of Bond woman. This one’s got class and style.” Tracy is the girl Bond falls in love with and marries (technically he first marries in You Only Live Twice, but as an undercover ploy). She’s the first Bond girl to really show bravery, intelligence, and talent in her own right. She’s also the first to rescue Bond himself. “This one’s got class” has taken on a life of its own as a colloquialism to describe a version of something that’s the best of its kind - a high rating based on grade, quality and perceived worth. Although the title of this episode is ostensibly about the two different plots – Lorelai has to give a talk to a “class” while Lane “dyes” her hair – knowing this context, we know it mostly alludes to Rory seeing herself as the girl with “class”, while in comparison Shane is the one who dyes her hair platinum blonde and engages in PDA, meaning that she isn’t as “classy”. Quite possibly the most literal “not like the other girls” allusion in the show.

Eight O'Clock at the Oasis Midnight at the Oasis is a song written by David Nichtern. It was recorded in 1973 by American folk and blues singer Maria Muldaur for her self-titled album and is her best-known recording. The song is about an offer of a love affair in a fantasy desert location, and is considered to be one of the most sensual songs of the 1970s. It’s the song that plays as an alarm when Rory looks at the clock (reading eight o’clock) at Dwight’s house, which of course he nicknames “The Oasis”. 

Take the Deviled Eggs... Sherry pressures Lorelai and Rory to take leftover deviled eggs home after her baby shower. Lorelai rants on the way home: “’Take the deviled eggs!’ How many times did the woman say it? And then her drunken friends hear it and they’re all shouting, ‘Take the deviled eggs!’” Could possibly be referencing other turns of phrase involving taking a kind of food item. “Take the biscuit” is a British idiom meaning to be especially annoying or surprising or to be the worst or best of its kind. Similarly, to “take the cake” means to have ranked first, typically used to describe something that is very surprising, foolish, remarkable, or annoying. Both of these would describe Sherry’s baby shower. Perhaps even “take the mickey” or “take the piss”, British euphemisms for making fun of someone. “Mickey” is slang for “micturate” which means to urinate. Of course, the girls do in fact take the deviled eggs and end up throwing them at Jess’s car.

They Shoot Gilmores, Don't They? The title is a reference to the 1969 psychological drama film, They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?, directed by Sydney Pollack and based on the 1935 novel of the same name by Horace McCoy. Set during The Great Depression, the film focuses on a group of people desperate to win a dance marathon where they are ruthlessly exploited, and stars Jane Fonda, Michael Sarrazin, and Susannah York. The title comes from the fact that race horses are often shot once they break their legs to put them out of their misery. The film was a commercial success, and is regarded as one of the best films of its era. As in the film, this episode is about a dance marathon - although it isn’t nearly as dramatic as the one in the film.

Let the Games Begin The ancient Olympic Games were first opened in 776 BC with the announcement: “Let the games begin!” In this episode, the “game” that’s beginning refers to both Jess and Rory’s new relationship and Rory starting to consider Yale over Harvard. Lorelai says the phrase before Richard and Emily pick them up to visit Yale. 

Deep Fried Korean Thanksgiving Lorelai and Rory endeavor to attend four different Thanksgiving meals in one day, including Sookie’s which ends up being a deep fried fest thanks to Jackson’s family and the Kims’ which of course has some Korean flair.

That'll Do, Pig During Trix’s visit to the Independence Inn, Emily begins to eat her food very slowly, resenting how quickly Trix wants to rush them along according to her schedule. Lorelai quips: “That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.” which is a quote from Babe, a 1995 comedy-drama film directed by Chris Noonan, produced by George Miller, and written by both, based on the 1983 novel The Sheep-Pig, by Dick King-Smith. In the film, a grateful misty-eyed Farmer Hoggett says this line to the pig Babe after he has, against all odds, won a sheepdog trial, despite not being a dog. One of the most understated last lines in film history, it’s a dignified, restrained way for Lorelai to say Emily is doing very well provoking Trix.

I Solemnly Swear Lorelai is asked to give a deposition in support of Emily’s case against Gerta, her unfairly dismissed German maid. This is where the title presumably comes from, because “I solemnly swear” is how an oath to tell the truth taken in legal contexts begins. Meanwhile, Rory (the current student council vice president) deals with political drama at school between student council president Paris and senior class president Francie. A president’s oath of office also begins with “I solemnly swear.”

[oldworldwidgets]

absolutely cannot stop thinking about the atom cats. i love them so much. every day i am plagued with thoughts of them swing dancing to rockin' robin by bobby day. giggling and serenading each other to end of the world by skeeter davis. pourin' out some brewskis to those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer by nat king cole. i want those funky little greaser kids to just be kids so bad

[nancypullen]

Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer

I'm guessing only Boomers will remember that song, but that's where we are right now. Emphasis on the crazy. I keep waiting for a good day to finish the desk and hutch that I started painting, but it's been either too hot or too rainy. I may just have to suck it up and do it on a sizzling day. It's no fun to paint and sweat, but I hate an unfinished project. That's not to say that I haven't been dabbling with some paint. I picked this old print up at Goodwill.

It's matted in blue and gray-ish blue and framed in a brown wood. You know what's coming, don't you? I started at the top...

adding autumn leaves to those trees, turning the sky stormy, changing the flag to a pumpkin banner, and of course, making the ladies into witches.

It's a long way from finished, I'm just laying in color right now. It sure is fun, though. Those empty buggies in the street...

are now filled with witches hauling their pumpkins home.

Obviously it's ll bit of a mess right now, it'll get better. But it was so much fun putting pumpkins on every door step and witches in every carriage. I'm liking this neighborhood so much more now! This is how you keep a granny busy on a hot August day - give her something to cackle about. Know what's not amusing? The fact that my stupid hair grows like kudzu. I took a selfie last Saturday because in just three weeks and one day, my new haircut is nothing but a memory.

I look pleased in the first awful selfie and ticked off in the second awful selfie. I've already cut the bangs once nd they need another trim. In the photo on the left I used straightening iron to get a little length at the bottom. The pic on the left I just used a big round brush to blow it out. Same makeup, same pose, different lighting. I may have to resign myself to being an old lady with long hair, there's no way I'm going to get it cut every month. Nah, I'll grow it and braid it and look like a sage.

I don't hate it.

I have about fifteen minutes to finish this post, the mister will be wandering downstairs looking for dinner soon. I'm just making taco bowls tonight - quick and easy. Then we'll watch Jeopardy before he flips over to the Olympics and we watch people run, jump, flip, and throw heavy objects. We'll talk like we're experts. I don't know why they don't ask us to judge these events. I'm very generous with my scoring.

Oh well, time for me to start banging some pots and pans around. Otherwise we might starve. Just between you and me, I could not care any less about dinner. I'd have popcorn every night and be perfectly fine. Why do men feel like they have to eat three meals every day? So unnecessary. In Mickey's defense he has learned to make a delicious cauliflower fried "rice" in a skillet and makes it once a week for me. It is so, so good! He uses cauliflower rice, veggies, and shrimp. It's a winner. Alright, I'm outta' here. Sending you massive amounts of love and hoping that everything is bearable in your corner of the world. Nothing is perfect, and as long as we have more good days than bad - it's bearable, right? More laughter, fewer tears. That's the goal. Stay safe, stay well, stay hopeful. XOXO, Nancy

[wolfnowl]

It's those lazy, hazy crazy days of summer... 🌞

[classyladysworld]

Good morning everybody and Happy Tuesday!

Just one of those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer. If you can enjoy it by a beach, consider yourself lucky!

But it's always time for ...

[paradoxscribbles]

☀️Summer YCH☀️

Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer~!

Hope everyone is getting ready for the the heat! it’s already warming up in my home town and summer storms are rolling in ⛈️ To celebrate my second favorite season, I’ve made three summertime YCHs! I will not be accepting trades at this time but if that changes I will make a public announcement😊✨

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• 3 sunglasses options

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Comment or message to claim please! I accept PayPal, Venmo, and CashApp! No holds since these will remain open all summer!

[doyourememberrocknrollradio]

Those Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days Of Summer · Nat King Cole

[bonniebugsy]

Music this Doctors office has played on the speakers since I arrived

The Entertainer, by Scott Joplin

One of those songs from the 1940s sung by a peppy and oddly threatening chorus of men and women about Lazy Hazy Crazy Days Of Summer

A flute cover of the Pirates of the Caribbean Theme