#lorelai is lorelai i expected nothing else so it was boring i just. think this was the wrong show to do a reunion with i dont know.

[dodgergilmore]

YAS give me more jess/rory analysis PLEASE ❤

I ended up expanding on my season 3 thoughts in another post, so I’ll just ramble on about something different if we’re all good with that!

Let’s discuss how “You could do more.” is, in some ways, the thesis of the whole Rory and Jess dynamic.

When Rory is not amused by his magic trick during one of their very first interactions (what a sentence lmao), it shows that she isn’t going to put up with the facade he puts on in Stars Hollow. She doesn’t shy away from speaking her mind and pushes him to take responsibility for his actions:

“All [Luke] does is stick up for you, and all you do is make his life harder. I guess that's what you have to do when you're trying to be Holden Caulfield, but I think it stinks. (...) Funny, I never pegged you as clueless, my mistake.”

Again, Rory points out the act Jess puts on but this also shows how she isn’t going to just passively allow him to act in such ways because she doesn’t see him as the nuisance/lost cause that much of the town sees him as. Instead, she holds him to a higher standard because she knows he isn’t clueless.

After a well-intentioned suggestion on Rory’s part, we see her at odds with the expectations placed on her by the town as she becomes “the poster girl for censorship” and she can openly discuss this with Jess as someone who would understand where she’s coming from, because he is one person who is not charmed by Stars Hollow’s small town antics. Her future isn’t bound to this place, so when Jess questions what Rory and Dean talk about, saying that ‘he doesn’t seem like her kind of guy’ it adds another layer to that conversation; let’s be real, Jess is not coming from a place of entirely pure intentions but after season 1, Dean is basically the town’s golden boy (despite previously being the new kid in town) and thus is the embodiment of one of the two worlds Rory is caught between throughout the series: Stars Hollow. But right from the Pilot, we know that Rory is set to “do more” than Stars Hollow. That whole sidestory in 2x12 and its relation to Rory could be an analysis of its own, which I don’t think I am equipped to offer at this time...

By 2x13, Rory is pushing against and growing frustrated with Lorelai’s view of Jess. Rory recognises that Jess should not need a tutor, after trying to explain his margin-writing to Lorelai in the previous episode, and it’s clear that Rory believes in Jess in a way that he himself does not at this point. He meets her words of encouragement and “you could do more” with cynicism but Rory remains unconvinced. Schooling should not be a measure of success – and by season 6 it ends up being beside the point anyway – but it is interesting that Jess’ reasoning for not going to college has nothing to do with himself and everything to do with what others have to say about him.

And why aren’t you going to college? (...)

Ask my mother, she could give you a couple reasons. Oh, and I’m sure Principal Mertin can chime in with a few good ones. In fact, ask your mother. She doesn’t know me all that well but I’m sure she could improvise a few things.

Do not give me that whole ‘I’m so misunderstood, Kurt Cobainy’ thing. You are way stronger than that and I don’t even wanna hear it.

That whole conversation in the car really is The Goods. The paths they have planned for themselves could not be more different but still, they offer each other the same unwavering support and encouragement.

I wont go into detail because I think I’ve already addressed this in my previous posts today but “you could do more” comes into play even during their relationship in that Jess, as we know, does not generate the most positive views from the people of Stars Hollow, perhaps believing that Rory could do more, so to speak, than him. If nothing else, the town definitely thinks so.

Jess shows support for Rory’s Harvard-and then-Yale dreams, which is one of many reasons his reappearance in 6x08 works so well. He assumes she graduated early before considering she wasn’t in school; when Rory keeps commenting on how her circumstances are “all temporary” Jess is visibly... I don’t know that I’d say concerned at this point but he is definitely taken aback.

I know it's good. Jess, you've got such a great brain. I knew that if you could just sit down and stop shaking it around, you could do something like this. I knew it. I knew it.

I know you did. (...) So, I just basically wanted to show you that. Uh, tell you... tell you that I couldn't have done it without you.

Obviously Jess is confirming her “you could do more” sentiments when he explicitly credits the role she played in helping him find success for himself. In doing so, this reassures Rory that she was right about something after feeling the defeat of Mitchum’s words for however many months by this point, and also reminds her of the ambitions she once had for herself.

Neither of them do or say these sort things for “I want to be with you” reasons but for “I want good things for you” reasons. It doesn’t come from a romantic place – they sincerely want the other to succeed, even if that means being apart. Even after everything that happened, Rory is saying “I hope you're good. I want you to be good.” in that 3x22 phone call, and then this in 6x08:

You know that section toward the front, the staff recommendations? I'm gonna grab a copy of your book and put it in that section, and then I'm going to write my own little recommendation on a card and attach it so people see it and buy it.

Please, that’s just cute :(

Of course it ends up ending in absolute MESS but she goes all the way to Philadelphia to see his open house. Imagine if she hadn’t checked the mail that day lmao

I just got the flier, and I don't know. I just wanted to see your place, but then this...

In AYITL, Jess hears Rory out as she divulges the state her life is in then reassures her that she’s in a rut that she is fully capable of getting out of. “Where is this coming from? What inspired you?” indeed. The implications, y’know??

Now I’m going to circle back to what I said about Dean representing Stars Hollow for a moment here. Logan very overtly represents the world of wealth and like I said, Rory is between these two worlds. Rory is a balance of the world of her grandparents and her mother; what’s interesting about Jess is that he doesn’t belong to either world, really. He can exist in the world of Stars Hollow because of his familial connections and history there and that brings us some little moments that are not at all deep, but I absolutely love anyway:

Can't wait to hear how you bagged the job.

It was the usual thing; I submitted my resume, plus samples of my work, I was thoroughly vetted, there were several lengthy interviews, plus complex negotiations over salary, benefits, parking–

You asked Taylor.

Pretty much.

And then when he asks Rory over the phone to fill him in on the ‘showbiz spat’ in 3x14. Stars Hollow has an important role in Rory’s life, and Jess is able to understand that world in a way that Logan simply can’t – if I recall, he is actually quite endeared by the town when he makes his first official visit there in season 7.

Season 5 makes Dean’s place in Rory’s life very clear, first with “What am I doing here, Rory? I don't belong here. Not anymore.” in 5x08 and then in 5x18, when Dean is used as a direct parallel to Luke:

They want more than this. Don’t you see that? And all you are is this. (...) This town, it’s all you are, and it’s not enough. She’s going to get bored, and you can’t take her anywhere. You’re here forever.

It’s... kind of an odd comparison to make in that Lorelai is quite happy with her Stars Hollow life and hasn’t indicated that she wants “more” than this. For Rory, though, it does reiterate that she wants more than Stars Hollow can offer her. I’ve discussed this before but the world of wealth and Logan, while initially intriguing to Rory, loses its shine during season 6 and she ultimately rejects it in that she doesn’t want to be bound by it. It offers temporary thrills and escapism, but she ends up having to enter the real world.

In Summer, Rory talks about looking at places in Queens so that might be the best, most recent indicator of where Rory wants to be in terms of geography. Just like Rory, Jess isn’t bound to any particular world – bouncing around from place-to-place in the original series, not unlike Rory in the revival – and together... they can do more. And that is that on soulmate-ism!

All in all, they hold each other to high standards not because they idealise one another or put each other on pedestals but because they genuinely believe in each other’s capabilities. They actively push each other to do more and important to note is that they hear each other in these moments; maybe not always immediately but they get there eventually because by the end, it’s clear they have a certain respect and fondness for each other. I like that they don’t passively roll along with whatever the other chooses to do, which may be the very reason some people don’t like them. As much as their dynamic evolves with time, there are just some things that remain a constant...

#ask #somekindofhelicoptervalentine #literati #~you could do more #barely even mention them but i'll tag anyway: #anti dean #anti logan

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Tragedy of Gatsby

PART TWENTY-FOUR OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: serious angst, anxiety about future, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 6.1K

Summary: Jess walks his mother down the aisle. Later, he and Ella address issues from their past.

Raucous laughter filled the diner as Liz had her makeshift bachelorette party. Ella could only roll her eyes at the obnoxious women, only growing louder as they drank more wine, along with whatever the one dressed in loud shades of pink, Carrie, had in her flask. With the wedding fast approaching, only one more day, Luke and Ella were doing their best to keep calm. They had closed Luke’s for the afternoon to allow for the modest party, consisting of four middle-aged Stars Hollow women drinking and uttering cliché nonsense. But, they had also (somehow) been assigned the task of making the food for the festivities. Ella had no idea where Luke had acquired the large, silver rotisserie cooker which sat on the diner counter, and she was almost too afraid to ask.

Large turkey legs spun around inside the hot plexiglass contraption, and more sat on a plate on the counter. Ella stood with the manual in her hands, a crease of concentration between her brows, trying to decipher the vague instructions. Though Luke was asking Liz if she had any idea what to do, Ella knew the effort was futile. As with most of the other wedding plans, Liz would be offering little to no help. Her personality wasn’t totally asinine, but Ella was beginning to understand the many complaints Luke and Jess had about Liz. She certainly wasn’t amazing at problem-solving.

“Let me see it,” Luke said, putting the roasted leg which he had held up to examine back down on the plate. He reached his hand out for the manual.

Ella sighed, not looking up at him. “You already read it. You need fresh eyes.”

“I think I saw something that’ll help. I’ll try and find it,” Luke continued, extending his hand to her further.

Shrugging, Ella finally tore her eyes away from the words and handed the book back over to him. “Godspeed, boss.”

Just then, Jess appeared from behind the curtain and came over to the end of the counter. “I need to get some batteries. I’ll be back.”

“What? For your Scarface beeper?” Ella asked, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, don’t get distracted. You’ve got legs to cook,” Jess scolded playfully, but frowned as his mother called over to him. Seeing her within a five foot radius of alcohol was enough to put him slightly on edge.

“Girls, this is Jess,” Liz said, taking her son by the shoulders and over to the table to show him off to her friends.

Jess was met with a flirtatious chorus of “Hello handsome!” and other such greetings. And he immediately heard Ella snort back a laugh to his left. He shot her a glare and she feigned an innocent look.

“He’s gonna walk me down the aisle,” Liz said. “Is that cool, or what?”

Behind the counter, Ella raised her eyebrows in surprise. It was the first she was hearing of it.

“It’s no big deal,” Jess replied dismissively.

“It’s a very big deal,” Liz insisted, a hand still placed on his shoulder. Then, she turned back to Ella, who was staring quizzically into the rotisserie cooker. “And Ella’s filling in as my flower girl. I gave her one of my dresses and everything.”

“Oh, you’ll be great,” Carrie smiled at Ella through sips of her drink. “And those Renaissance dresses Liz showed me? They’ll squish your boobs right up to your neck! It’ll be fabulous!”

“Yeah,” Ella said flatly, sighing. After trying on the dress last night with Lorelai, they’d taken up the length and taken in the sides. But the corset was relatively static, unable to be adjusted. When laced up all the way, it almost completely cut off her ability to breathe. “I’m just counting down the seconds.”

Outside, a man in a UPS uniform, holding a large package, approached the door. Luke went over to accept the delivery, but it instantly became apparent that there was no package and the man was a stripper. Eyes widening, Ella quickly undid her apron and hung it on the hook in the kitchen.

“I’m taking a break,” she announced, rounding the corner of the counter to come up beside Jess.

Luke barely acknowledged her, still lost on what was about to happen. Without thinking, Jess grabbed Ella’s wrist gently to lead her out of the diner before the show could begin. It was clear from the scarlet flush on her cheeks and the amusement on her face that she didn’t want to bear witness to what was about to happen either.

“Have fun,” Jess muttered dejectedly to his uncle before brushing past him and escaping.

“Have fun with what?” Luke asked cluelessly behind them, but the door had already shut.

Ella erupted in a fit of laughter as Jess released her wrist, walking beside her and shaking his head in disbelief. Birds sung in the afternoon heat, and they went down towards the market, the streets lined with fresh produce and fragrant flowers. Eventually, Ella’s giggles subsided and she caught her breath.

“Luke really should get out more,” she said, letting her long hair out of its ponytail and running her hands through the waves.

Jess snorted. “Agreed. I’m pretty sure the only movie he’s ever seen is Bridge on the River Kwai.”

Pursing her lips, Ella shook her head. “Maybe that’s what he says. But he’s definitely seen more. How else could he keep up with Lorelai?”

“Good point.”

A comfortable pause passed between them as they neared the market, entering the air conditioning as Jess went off in search of batteries. Even after a couple years, Taylor still glared each time Jess came in the store. It was meant to look menacing, but instead it ended up as mostly cartoonish. Ella even shot him a teasing wave as they walked past. In some ways, Taylor felt about Ella the way Mrs. Kim did. She wore dark clothing and makeup, and created ghoulish artwork. And her dead mother, and additional complicated family members, did nothing to help her reputation among the other conservative townsfolk. Not like Ella cared, however; she knew people like Patty and Babette and Maury and Gypsy were the coolest ones. And they all liked her just fine.

“When the hell did batteries start getting so expensive?” Jess grumbled, picking up some generic AAs, skipping over the name brands.

Ella chuckled. “You sound like such a responsible adult.”

“Hardly,” Jess replied, leading the way to the checkout line. “If I was actually responsible, I’d leave New York. I live in one room with five other guys and I still barely make rent.”

“Ah, so the tragedy of Gatsby holds true?”

As he paid, Jess only chuckled in response. His eyes fell on the ‘Take a Penny, Leave a Penny’ jar while the cashier made change, and he smirked nostalgically. After so long, he could still hear Taylor’s accusations of his stealing every single coin in the jar. He had done it, of course. He just hadn’t expected such an intense response. Those early days in Stars Hollow had shown him just how boring such a sleepy town could be. In New York, there were bigger fish to fry than some kid taking pennies. But still, before they left, he dropped one penny into the familiar jar. For old time’s sake, he told himself. Ella noticed, of course, and raised a brow at him in askance.

He shrugged as they emerged back into the May sunshine. “What goes around comes around.”

Ella gave a bitter chuckle. “Not that karma bullshit.”

Jess clicked his tongue mockingly. “Kids these days. So cynical.”

“Whatever, James Dean,” Ella said, shaking her head.

For a moment, Jess’s breath seemed to catch in his throat. She hadn’t called him that name in such a long time. And suddenly, he was seventeen again, ditching school and mouthing off and making out with her to depressing records. But, then, he had to remind himself where he was. He was putting pennies in the jar. Walking his mother down the aisle. Reading the self-help book Luke had given him the night before after a long, strange lecture about the power of communication. Jess wanted to roll his eyes at every word when first starting the book, but he’d read almost half of it already, sitting up in his old bed. And he was beginning to absorb it, understand it. Biting down hard on his lip for a moment, Jess quieted the emotions which sprung up in his mind and only shot her a smirk.

“I am not going back to the diner any time soon. You wanna get some ice cream?” he asked, tucking the batteries into his pocket.

Nodding, Ella let a fond smile cross her face. Either she hadn’t noticed her nickname slip, or was brushing it off. “Sure. Seems like you’re finally developing a concept of weather.”

.   .   .

Sucking in her stomach, Ella regretted eating so much mint-chocolate-chip. Pretty in Pink played at a low volume on the small TV in the Gilmore living room, as Lorelai made the final alterations to Ella’s dress. Standing on a kitchen chair, Ella was off to the side of the couch so as not to block Rory and Sookie’s view of the movie. Along with playing substitute seamstress for the wedding, Lorelai would be meeting with Sookie about some Inn business later in the evening. Ella felt like she had been holding her arms out at her sides for hours, and her shoulders were starting to ache. But she bit back the heavy sigh which threatened to escape her mouth as Sooke, Lorelai, and Rory shot questions at her about Jess’s sudden reappearance. They were doing nothing to hide the suspicion in their voices.

“He’s really walking his mom down the aisle? Mr. Sid Vicious, Mr. Stealing-My-Beer-and Ditching-My-Dinner, Mr. Steal-Babette’s-Gnome-and-Fake-A-Murder-Outside-Doose’s is walking his mother down the aisle voluntarily?” Lorelai asked through the pins she held in her mouth, taking in the sides of the dress one final time.

“Anything else to add or are you done?” Ella’s voice was husky and breathless as she watched Jon Cryer dance around Molly Ringwald on screen, the corset tight but still manageable around her torso.

Rory chuckled. “You can’t deny all those pseudonyms are factually accurate.”

“And no longer timely, Ms. Amanpour,” Ella quipped flatly.

“But he still got in a fight with TJ at a strip club last night,” Lorelai piped in.

Ela rolled her eyes. “That was justified. And happened while he was reading Jane Austen in a strip club.”

“You’re grumpy tonight, kitten,” Sookie said, tilting her head over the back of the couch at Ella with a small pout.

“Comes with the lack of oxygen,” Ella replied.

Lorelai took a final pin from her mouth and stuck it in the hem at Ella’s side. “Why did you agree to this Renaissance nonsense, then?”

“Didn’t really agree to it. And when Liz brought it up, Luke seemed so happy. I just...couldn’t say no to them,” Ella explained.

Lorelai shot her a mischievous grin. “Ah, there’s that hidden heart of gold. What a shame that it’s three sizes too small.”

“I’m not losing any sleep over it,” Ella said.

Rory snickered.

“Hey, I’m not the only one trying to add a few years to Luke’s life this week,” Ella continued, stepping down from the chair, trying not to slip in her fishnets.

“What do you mean?” Sookie asked.

“Lorelai is Luke’s date,” Ella said. “A match made in heaven.”

Lorelai rolled her eyes. “We’re just going as friends.”

“It’s a good thing you’ve never been arrested. You’d never pass a polygraph,” Rory smiled, in on the teasing.

“Wicked, wicked girls,” Lorelai scolded with a dramatic gasp.

“Not quite the twins from The Shining, but close,” Sookie chimed in, agreeing.

“Twins indeed,” Lorelai said, straightening the corset, eyebrows raised.

Normally, Ella barely filled out a bodice. But, with the constricting powers of the corset, she had cleavage nearly up to the collarbone. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t an interesting change from being nearly flat-chested, as she slowly got used to the pressure on her ribs.

“Just call me Bianca,” Ella announced in a dramatic Elizabethan accent, making circular gestures with her hands.

“Not Desdemona?” Rory asked.

Scrunching up her nose in thought, Ella shook her head. “No, definitely Bianca. I’d much rather slap Cassio than be murdered by Othello. Besides, I don’t think this dress is exactly Desdemona’s taste.”

.   .   .

The day bloomed hot and dry, the sun shining down from a cloudless sky. Ella rushed across town square from Patty’s to Luke’s. As she entered the air conditioning of the diner, she felt sweaty in her tight outfit, panting slightly. In the back of her mind, she worried her makeup would smudge beyond salvageability before the ceremony had even started. But soon, the cool evening would set in. And she kept her mind focused on the task at hand, trudging up the stairs to the apartment and knocking twice on the door. After a few moments, Jess came to greet her, dressed in all black. He blinked at her in surprise, then smirked.

“Hello, flower girl,” he said.

Scoffing dejectedly, she brushed past him into the apartment. But, as soon as she was in view of Luke’s side of the room, she turned back around with a look of disgust. TJ was shirtless, in nothing but some very form-fitting tights. Jess chuckled at the scowl which formed on her face and the blush on her cheeks.

“Jackass!” she scolded Jess playfully. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“Didn’t exactly give me the chance, did you?” he asked, eyebrows raised as he made his way over to his duffel.

“Excuses,” she shot back.

“Alright, alright,” Luke piped up, exiting the bathroom and walking over to Ella in the kitchen. “What’s up, kid?”

Letting out a heavy sigh, she turned away from Jess and faced Luke, mouth set in a thin line. “I’ve been sent here to tell you that Liz’s dress ripped. But Lorelai is fixing it and everything is fine. She’ll just be a few minutes late. But no one’s getting left at the altar or anything.”

“What’d you say?” TJ chimed in, panicked, in his thick New Yorker accent.

“Nothing, Liz is just running a little late getting dressed. Go put your outfit on, buddy,” Luke said, reassuring.

Narrowing his eyes, TJ stared suspiciously at the three of them before finally giving a nod. He took the hanger which held his heavy Renaissance costume into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Ella was comforted by the fact that the next time she saw him he would more than likely be fully clothed.

“Nice tie,” Ella said, feeling odd seeing Luke out of his usual uniform. The black suit looked stiff on him, but his burgundy tie was surprisingly fashionable.

“Thanks,” Luke replied, almost begrudging, almost anxious.

Jess walked back over to the two of them near the kitchen table. He had a pale, yellowish button-up over his black t-shirt, yet to be buttoned. “He’s nervous.”

“I am not,” Luke argued.

“I bet Lorelai will think you look great,” Ella teased.

Luke rolled his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Then, he went to deal with the shoes on his bed. The polish was practically a hundred years old, and its chunkiness wasn’t yielding the best results.

As Jess finished buttoning up his shirt, his gaze roamed over Ella. She wore a lavender, cap-sleeve dress, chiffon with a hem which stopped just above her knees. Over it, a silvery vest corset. Her usually messy hair was curled in long, golden ringlets, and it was done half-up, half-down. A few loose strands hung around her freckled face. But even though her lips were shiny with clear gloss, her eye makeup was dark and smudged in a grungy style as usual.

“You look nice,” Jess said with sincerity, nearly winded, breathless from the butterflies which flew around in his stomach.

Smiling shyly, Ella’s flush deepened. “Thank you. Don’t look so bad yourself, Mariano.”

He nodded humbly.

But then, Ella furrowed her brows and she reached up to straighten the collar of his shirt. “You have to remember to fold these right. How many times, Jess?”

Ignoring the electricity he felt at her touch, he looked down and saw the hefty black Doc Martens on her feet. He regained his confident smirk, smug.

“No heels?” he asked as she took a step back from him, satisfied with his shirt.

She mirrored his expression, conspiratory. “Never, when I can help it. Last time I wore them was at Sookie's wedding. One of the worst decisions of my life. And, hey, Liz said I could wear my own shoes.”

Jess snickered, picking his watch up from the kitchen table and fastening it around his wrist. “Wait to cheat the system.”

“Thank you very much,” she replied with a little bow. “See you out there?”

“Oh, can’t wait,” Jess drawled, feigning excitement.

“Hey. Game face, Mariano,” Ella said, pointing a finger at him as she made for the front door. “I’ll save you a seat.”

.   .   .

With Liz’s dress finally fixed, Ella jogged over to the town square from Patty’s, hearing the strings and flute players biding their time, keeping the moderate crowd entertained. So many people were wearing costumes, flowers in their hair, and bells on their shoes. She would have rolled her eyes, but she was clutching at her middle and nearly doubled over when she finally made it to the end of the aisle, trying to catch her breath. Jess stood in waiting for his mother, and his eyes widened when he saw Ella panting.

Bringing his hand to her arm as he crouched down, he furrowed his brows at her. “Woah, Stevens, are you okay?”

Nodding, Ella swallowed dryly and straightened up. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, Mariano. It’s just hot. And I’m only getting about half the air I normally do. I’m dizzy, that’s all.”

“You wanna sit down? I can get you some water?” he asked. Though she was usually pale, her face was almost never so ghostly.

She shook her head just as the music kicked up, signaling her cue. Grabbing the basket of rose petals from the ground near the end of the aisle, she shot him one final smirk in an attempt at reassurance. “Really, I’m okay. And I’m on. Break a leg.”

“Right back at ya,” he said, a doubtful eyebrow raised.

And, in a mortifying turn, Ella skipped down the aisle and added in a few twirls, tossing petals as she went. It wasn’t exactly dancing, which was good for the audience’s sake. They would otherwise have been doomed. But her cheeks flamed and her stomach squirmed with nerves, fearing a stumble. Lorelai flashed her an encouraging smile as she went, and soon enough Ella was taking her seat in the front row, one empty chair for Jess to her right. In all honesty, she was surprised she had actually pulled it off. When she’d signed on to be the flower girl, she’d understood the role as merely walking. She’d almost chickened out when Liz had shown her the moves the night before. But, somehow, she had survived. She didn’t believe in miracles, but it came pretty close.

Then, Liz rode in at the back of the arrangement on a large chair, rolled by two men in pantaloons. Everyone rose. Jess took her by the arm, leading her down the way. Ella had to admit, Liz looked amazing in her wedding dress. And Jess, who’d had only a shy, stoic expression before, even managed a small smile as his mother kissed him on the cheek. Soon, she stepped next to TJ, and the crowd was seated again. Ella looked at Jess, as he came to her side, with a tiny smirk.

“You did well. Very firm gait,” she whispered.

Jess rolled his eyes, but his smile stayed. “Whatever, Stevens. We both know you were seconds away from breaking your nose.”

She didn’t reply, but instead licked the pad of her thumb and smudged Liz’s lipstick off his cheek.

Jess grimaced. “Ugh, Eleanor spit.”

“Ah, sweet revenge,” she said, a wicked grin growing on her lips.

Once the officiant began playing some antiquated string instrument and singing a silly song about love, all bets were off. Ella could hear Luke and Lorelai fighting laughter behind her. She bit at her thumbnail to keep from giggling, but eventually had to hide her flushed face with one hand and grip Jess’s knee with the other for dear life. Even Jess had to bite down on his bottom lip to ward off an amused outburst.

.   .   .

Stars shone brightly from the dark sky, and Ella gazed up at them as the man sitting next to her and Jess droned on about his time in prison. Having had the opportunity to meet many of Liz and TJ’s acquaintances from the Renaissance fair over the course of the night, Ella was relatively sure she would not be donning her corset dress again any time soon. Though Liz had assured her she could keep it, since it was now fitted just right to her frame. Warm air blew past them in pleasant breezes, and it made Ella’s heart feel calm, soothed. Summer was coming. She couldn’t wait. Swims in the lake (without the current of an ocean), sitting out in the gazebo with Lane, drawing the floral arrangements which would adorn town.

Eventually, the man with the tank top and shaved head rose from his seat, and left Ella and Jess alone at the table. Stray, empty plates peppered the gingham tablecloth. Deeply breathing in the clean air, Ella looked over at Jess in the glowy night, lit up by the extra twinkle lights around the makeshift dance floor which had been set up near the gazebo. Past Jess, she could see Luke and Lorelai talking and laughing amongst themselves at their table. A smirk crossed Ella’s face. She hoped it would stick this time, with Luke officially divorced and Lorelai having broken up with her rich, snotty boyfriend, Jason Stiles. Ella had never met him, of course. But from what Rory had told her, Jason had been all wrong for Lorelai.

Clearing her throat, Ella faced Jess again and propped her head up on her palm, elbow on the table. “You okay?”

Jess, sitting hunched over his nearly empty plate of food, looked up at her and shrugged. He leaned back against the back of the folding chair he sat in. “Well, I’m not bleeding or anything. Are you still dizzy?”

“No, I think my vitality has been restored,” Ella said, sighing slightly.

“Well, I know the sunlight hurts you, Morticia.”

Snorting a laugh, Ella straightened up and her tone turned more serious. “Really, though. You’re okay with her getting married again?”

Chewing on his lip, Jess shrugged once again. “I’m okay. She’s gonna do what she’s gonna do. And this one is better than some of the others. Though that bar is pretty fucking low.”

She nodded. “Alright. You can tell me, y’know. It’s okay if you’re not okay.”

“I know,” he said shortly, though not unkindly.

“Good. Glad we sorted that out, then,” she said, smiling genuinely at him.

He gave a small smile back. “Me too, Stevens.”

Suddenly, Kirk came over the loudspeaker soundsystem and announced Liz and TJ were about to have their first dance. The sweet guitar tune which played was not one Ella could instantly recognize, but she didn’t hate it. From the corner of her eye, she saw Luke and Lorelai over near the side of the dance floor. Jess watched Ella gaze out around the crowd, starlight glinting in her hazel eyes. He felt so content, and his mind wandered to the now-finished self help book sitting on the table near his teenage bed. But, before he could open his mouth to speak, Ella turned back to him.

“This song isn’t half bad,” she said. “I almost expected a Gregorian chant, but I guess they’re not quite that committed to the theme.”

“I’ll be sure to mention that in the Gazette review tomorrow,” Jess quipped. “I figured you’d think this was too happy.”

She shook her head slightly, pursing her lips. “Maybe the lyrics are happy, but it sounds sad. The music feels...depressed. Fuck, that doesn’t make sense. Maybe I do have heat stroke, after all.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you. And you tell me I don’t drink enough water,” Jess chided, shaking his head.

Ella rolled her eyes. With a smirk, she pointed across the square towards Luke and Lorelai. “Look at those crazy kids.”

Jess looked at the two of them, Lorelai settling against Luke as they danced slowly together. He laughed under his breath. Maybe Luke was taking the book’s advice, too. It still shocked Jess that his uncle had been proactive enough to seek relationship guidance. Maybe Luke would no longer be the most dysfunctional person he knew.

“Took them long enough,” Jess said knowingly.

Humming in agreement, Ella leaned back in her chair, shifting to get more comfortable. She absolutely couldn’t wait to take the dress off. “But, hey, Luke can waltz a hell of a lot better than I ever would’ve been able to.”

“Agreed,” Jess scoffed. “In those boots? You’d break all ten of my toes.”

“Hey, you managed to come away from the Distillers concert unscathed,” she said pointedly, eyebrows raised.

“The exception that proves the rule.”

She snickered but didn’t retort, instead yawning against the back of her hand. Such a costume in the nighttime heat also seemed to be making her drowsy. After a moment, Jess swallowed down his pride. He remembered Lorelai’s words, Luke’s words, and the words in the book telling him he deserved love. Jess put a hesitant arm around her, and before she knew what she was doing, instinct taking over, she brought her head to his shoulder. And it was so familiar. Watching the townspeople of Stars Hollow, saying nothing but feeling everything. And, just for a minute, she quieted the thoughts which swirled around in her mind. She didn’t worry, she didn’t bite her nails, she didn’t clutch her necklace. She only let herself feel the swell of her heart.

.   .   .

In the early hours of the morning, Ella was glad to have some silence in the house. Hep Alien was out at a gig, performing and celebrating the success of Mrs. Kim’s visit to finally reconcile with Lane. She’d come over to see her daughter’s new life during the wedding, when Ella was out. Though Zach and Brian had combed their hair and put on ironed shirts, Mrs. Kim already knew enough about Ella to never trust her. So, before she left for the wedding, Ella parked her car outside the diner and left no traces of her presence in the living room. As Ella was coming back through the front door, already unlacing her corset, the three band members were getting ready to rock, as Lane put it. With Dave out at college in California, they were still missing a guitar player, but they’d booked something at a random bar near New Haven. They were relying on their minimalist White Stripes covers for the time being. Lane had given Ella an excited squeal and a big hug before leaving, offering her friend a brief rundown of the evening. Mrs. Kim still wasn’t overjoyed, but she had at least done a walkthrough of the house.

Finally able to breathe again, Ella had cracked open nearly every window of the house to let the cool breeze in. Her hair was damp and loose from a shower. She was dressed in an old Pixies t-shirt and some plaid pajama bottoms, more comfortable than she’d been all day. It had been taxing, but more fun than she thought it would be.

And Jess. So different but so easy. A quick goodbye. Apparently, though, he had just gotten a cellphone. He had given her his number, after a fair amount of her teasing. She’d promised to take advantage of Luke’s house phone during her breaks. As hard as it was to watch him disappear into the dark diner, parting ways as she walked back to Lane’s and he went to pack up his stuff, at least she knew it wouldn’t be the last time they spoke. She could’ve sworn, as they sat for nearly an hour with her head on his shoulder, she had been transported back in time. Somehow, she had forgotten just how safe Jess could make her feel. How right. But with it brought confusion.

He lived miles away, he left without a word, didn’t speak to her for over a month. If she hadn’t grabbed the phone from Luke, would he have ever tried to get in touch with her at all? No matter how much she wanted to be with him, she couldn’t forget what had happened, how it felt. Despite what Lorelai and Rory may have thought, calling to check in on her best friend every once in a while was different than forgiving the past.

Snuggled beneath a thin throw blanket, Ella doodled inside a copy of The Waves. She had tried to focus on the words for only a few minutes before giving up entirely. Her thoughts were too loud; she couldn’t quiet them down enough for fiction, even modernist. Instead, she drew a Renaissance scene, a grim reaper sneaking up on a gaggle of beautiful, corseted women.

She furrowed her brows when a knock sounded on the door. It was Lane’s house, and she hadn’t mentioned expecting anyone. Nonetheless, Ella tossed her book and blanket aside, crossing her arms over her braless chest defensively. But, she found only Jess on the doorstep. He had donned his leather jacket and stood with his hands shoved in his pockets. His expression was largely unreadable, but she almost thought she saw a shine in his brown eyes.

“Hey, Mariano,” she greeted him, smiling. “Is something wrong? Is it that rust bucket again? If you need a place to crash while Gypsy’s fixing it, I’m sure Lane would be okay if we shared the couch, or the floor maybe-”

“Can I come in?” he asked suddenly, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Ella nodded, face falling at his anxious tone. She stepped aside for him to pass. “Sure. Everyone else is at a gig near Yale. Just Virginia Woolf and I tonight.”

A half-hearted smirk crossed his face as she shut the door and went back to the couch. She gestured for him to sit in the armchair across from her. It was a wonder how the band managed to fit any furniture in the living room at all with the drums and other gear set up on the wall near the front door.

“What’s wrong, Jess? Did something happen?” she asked gently, tilting her head at him.

He swallowed harshly, running a hand over his mouth. “I need to talk to you.”

She nodded. “Okay. Well, here I am.”

Breathing a heavy sigh, he took a long pause, then finally locked eyes with her. “Come with me.”

“What?” she asked, chuckling slightly in disbelief. Was he joking?

“To New York. We could work, live together, be together. God knows they would love your art up there. You could sell it on the street if you needed to, and I know people would buy it. I love you, Elle. I love you so much and I wanna be with you.” He gestured passionately and spoke with such conviction that Ella was almost rendered speechless with shock.

Gathering her thoughts, she began to shake her head slowly. “You don’t love me, Jess.”

“Of course I do!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been in love with you for two years!”

She gave him a doubtful glance.

“Since that day in the gazebo! I’ve thought about it over and over! When you took my hand, and you showed me the hydrangeas through the hole in the roof, and you told me you didn’t care whether I went to college! And you took off your heels to walk home, right before you left for New Britain. And I’ve loved you every second of every day since!”

“Oh really?” she asked, voice growing tense. “You loved me when you left without saying anything? You loved me when I went a month without knowing whether you were alive or dead? You loved me then?”

Jess bowed his head slightly and sighed again. “Yes. I loved you so much then. And I love you now. I’m sorry, Elle. Okay? I know you couldn’t count on me then, but you can now! I’m here! I’m right here!”

Biting the inside of her cheek, Ella only kept shaking her head. “Jess, you can’t do this to me. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. You can do anything. You’ve always been able to do anything! And I know you want this, too! I know you love me!” he continued, tone pleading now.

Tears sprang up and spilled over in Ella’s eyes before she could stop them, and she wiped angrily at her cheeks. “Please stop.”

“Look, I know you’re scared-”

“No, Jess, you don’t know!” she interrupted, voice raised to a yell. “You don’t know! You were gone. Overnight. Just gone. And you didn’t call for a month! I didn’t know where you were! You left! Just like everyone! Just like my fucking mom! And my older brother! And you broke my heart!”

For a moment, the air stood stagnant and charged between them. Crickets and cicadas hummed outside. Stray yells, noises from the wedding party, still sounded in the distance. Jess sniffled and blinked back tears. Ella wiped furiously at her cheeks. Soon, she had her elbows on her knees and was hiding her face in her hands.

“Eleanor, please, I’m so sorry! I was so lost! Luke kicked me out and I didn’t know what to do! And I did leave you. But not forever!”

Ella gave a muffled, bitter chuckle.

“I wanna be with you! For the rest of my life! But not here. Not in this place. Not in Stars Hollow! We can start new!” he said, voice strained with emotion.

Raising her head to face him again, Ella clutched at her necklace. “I can’t leave, Jess. My little brother’s still here, I’m starting summer classes in a week, I-”

“It’s not about him. It’s not about them. It’s about you and me. It’s about what we want! You already left your place! Everything you own is in your backseat! You’re ready! Let’s go!”

“No!”

“I love you, Elle. I know you love me too! You say you don’t believe in it, but I know it’s not true! You love me and we love each other and we’re supposed to be together! Let’s go!”

Still, she shook her head vehemently.

“No, Jess!” she shouted, louder than she expected to. She had stopped trying to hide her crying. Her tone was cracked. “No! You don’t get to come here and try to save me! I don’t need any saving! We said no cop outs! We said we were gonna try! And you left without trying! I’m not falling for it again!”

Jess, too, had tears streaming down his cheeks. “Eleanor, I can fix it. I promise, I-”

“Don’t Eleanor me, Jess! It’s too late! You promised before and you left me! Fuck and run! And I should’ve known!” she exclaimed hotly. She raked her hands through her hair, pausing, but it seemed Jess might have nothing more to say. “I think you should go.”

His jaw tensed, and a crestfallen look appeared on his face. “Eleanor, you know we love each other. Please...please just come with me.”

Breathing a broken sigh, Ella averted her gaze from him, dejected. Her heart twisted painfully. She almost couldn’t take it. She stared at her hands, wringing them together in her lap. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Jess. Sometimes love isn’t enough.”

Mouth agape, Jess stared at her in the lamplight. She loved him. He loved her. They both knew it. But her voice, with no affection for him in it. Nothing at all but sorrow. And it clicked in his mind. He would never have her again. He’d done exactly what he’d promised not to do; and he would forever pay the price. She could hold a grudge like it was her job, Luke had said. Patience, Lorelai had said. He hadn’t listened. Maybe he deserved love, as the book said, but not from her. As he walked out without another word, he didn’t slam the door. He shut it gently behind him. And a cold stone of grief sat heavy in Ella’s stomach. She sat on the couch, weeping, until the birds chirped and the sun rose.

#jess mariano fanfiction #jess mariano au #jess mariano imagines #jess mariano stories #jess mariano #jess #mariano #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls au #gilmore girls imagines #gilmore girls stories #gilmore girls #jess mariano x oc #jess mariano x original character #original character stories #original character #luke danes #rory gilmore #lorelai gilmore

[thejollyroger-writer]

Mixed-Up Metaphors, Messed-Up Makeup

a/n: this is the post-revival Gilmore Girls AU that nobody asked me to write (except Devon), written specifically for her birthday. so, @shireness-says​, this is for you. happy birthday, friend. 

Summary: Rory is pregnant, lost, and looking for something deeper to tie her to Storybrooke. (surprise: it’s Jess Mariano)

Rated G // 7K // also on ao3

(Thanks to @hollyethecurious​ and @let-it-raines​ for helping me figure this out and giving me someone to chat with about writing it, since I obviously couldn’t go to Devon this time) 

WEEK TEN

Jess Mariano never asks anything of her. Some days, Rory can swear that he’s the only person who wants nothing from her. And it is simply for this reason that she invites him to sit with her in her office as many days as he’s allowed, after meeting him for breakfast at Luke’s. Because, unlike everyone else in Stars’ Hollow, Jess seems content sitting in the corner of her office, reading his next book or tapping away on his laptop, working on his own novel, or on something else. 

Sometimes, when she knows she is going to have a particularly boring day, she asks him to come with her. Usually, she does not, and it is just another unspoken agreement for him to show up a few hours after breakfast, toting a to-go bag and a cup of coffee.

Usually, they sit in almost-silence, one of them playing some music softly in the background, every once in a while asking a question about word choice or the order of a sentence, or Jess reading a sentence or a section from that day’s selection. 

And then, the morning sickness starts. Usually, she is able to control it before she leaves to meet him for breakfast, hoping that he doesn’t realize her change in appetite. 

(He does. He just doesn’t say anything.) 

It’s not like she doesn’t want to tell him. Hell, there is the slight possibility that the baby is his anyway, after one of the few nights they spent together when she came back to Stars’ Hollow, nights that they have wordlessly decided to completely ignore but that sometimes still happen when she finds herself in his arms late at night, sometimes even forgetting how she got there. 

She just… doesn’t know how to tell him. Because what if it’s not his, which is just as likely? It’s not like she needs anything from him, expects anything from him, even if it is his. Though, she knows deep down, that no matter what the case is, if she told him that she wanted him to be a part of this child’s life — which she does — he would do it. 

That’s part of the reason she lo —

She cares about him so much. 

These are the thoughts swirling through her already-chaotic mind when she feels her stomach begin to churn, a feeling that she can sometimes control. 

This does not seem to be one of those times. 

Jess, of course, notices the change in her almost immediately — the way she is breathing, the redness of her face, her straighter posture, the moments of fear that pass through her eyes when she fears she may not be able to control it. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, finally breaking the thick silence that has fallen around her. In her chest, her heart pounds wildly, hard enough for her to feel it in her stomach, and all she can do before pushing herself out of the office chair and crossing the room, hoping to at least make it into the bathroom, is shake her head, trying to combat the tears that always come with her failing gag reflex. 

Shit. 

“Do you want my help?” he calls, and though she did not hear the pounding of his boots against the fake hardwood, he sounds much closer to the cracked bathroom door than his usual perch. 

“No!” 

(Didn’t people always say that they loved being pregnant? How is that the case when she has been starting every morning by losing the contents of her stomach? When she has felt nauseous non-stop for the last eight weeks? She thought this was supposed to be fun.) 

Her bathroom stay is short-lived, at least. (On the bright side of getting sick all the time is her stomach’s — the baby’s — ability to pick and choose what it wants to keep and what it wants to get rid of, and this morning is only seems angry about the apple she ate on her way over here. 

Ironic.)

She gives herself another minute to calm down, to splash cold water on her hands and her face and try to get her heart rate back to a normal human’s number. She’s so overwhelmed by making herself feel better that she almost forgets that he’s waiting for her outside the door, silent and patient and — why does he have to be like that? 

Slowly — oh my god, so slowly — she opens the door to the bathroom, as if putting off the action will somehow stop the conversation she knows she is about to have. (Maybe if I spend enough time in the bathroom, he’ll just… leave, she tells herself, but even as she has the thought, she shakes her head with the ridiculousness of it.) 

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. She can’t even bring herself to look at him, putting all of her attention instead on her feet as they cross the worn-down floor back to her desk, left, right, left, right. 

And then… he still doesn’t say anything. He sits, silently, in his chair, and she can feel that his eyes never leave hers. But he says nothing, which manages to drive her absolutely insane, stuck with only her own thoughts and the pounding of her heart and that stupid rattling pipe in the corner, the cars on the street outside, the chattering of passerby, her blood rushing through her ears, that damn pipe — 

“I’m pregnant,” she says finally, the words practically exploding out of her. 

Silently, he nods, but she doesn’t miss the slight widening of his eyes, the gentle parting of his lips. 

She can swear that her heart actually stops beating. What if this is too much for him? What if I’ve just totally screwed up absolutely everything, and he’s going to pack up his things and leave, leave the office and leave Stars’ Hollow and never talk to me again— 

“Okay.” She almost doesn’t catch the word, barely more than a breath on his lips, but it is the brightness of his eyes that really catches her attention, suddenly, all at once. “Are you okay? What can I do to help?” 

She is useless against the way her jaw falls slack. “What?” 

He narrows his eyes at her, as if he doesn’t understand her confusion. 

“I mean, you’re sick, right? Is there anything I can do? Do you need some water, something to eat? Do you have a stash of Saltines somewhere?” 

She’s… 

Speechless. Shocked. In awe. Dumbstruck. Without words. 

Alright, so maybe with words. But certainly not the right ones. 

He’s… has he always been like this? Has he always cared so much? 

She knows the answer, though she also knows that she’s been trying to avoid the same knowledge for almost as long as she’s been back in Stars’ Hollow. Honestly, (though, really, she hates being honest with herself), it shouldn’t surprise her as much as it does, his heartwarming, caring demeanor, his immediate jump to help her, to be there for her. 

If there wasn’t a large wooden desk between them — if she even had the energy to jump up in the first place — she may have even found herself quickly crossing the room to kiss him. Maybe. 

For now, though, all she does is smile, reaching down to open the bottom drawer of her desk, where she pulls a water bottle and a pack of saltines from. 

He smiles back — warm, genuine, glad that she seems to be content at the moment. “Good,” he says, his attention moving back towards the book resting in his lap. “Let me know if you need my help.” 

It’s a loaded statement, and even as his eyes begin moving across the words on the page, Rory sits in her chair watching him, slowly eating a few saltines from the open pack. Does he know just how much that one question could mean? How many of those meanings did he actually mean? Is she overthinking this? 

Of course she’s overthinking this, and she knows that — and something about the shadow of a smirk that grows on his lips, his eyes still on the book as he turns the page, makes her pretty sure that he knows she’s overthinking it, too. 

WEEK 16

She’s been trying to ask Jess for help for two weeks now, since she decided this is something she wants to do. She just… doesn’t know how. Will he even want to do it? Will he be mad at her because she wants to do it? 

What will her mother think?

What will Logan think?

She’s taken to spending most nights with Jess in the apartment above Luke’s instead of back in her old bedroom, constantly under the watchful eyes of both Lorelai and Luke. Jess asking her if she’s eaten today is caring, done in a much less agitated tone, while all she gets at home is nagging and food shoved in her direction. 

“It’s almost as if your mother has forgotten what it’s like to be pregnant,” Jess tells her very helpfully one night after she came to the apartment with her laptop, her pajamas, and a brown paper bag full of vegetables that she knows her mother never ate while pregnant. 

“Well, I need her to remember,” Rory had huffed, falling backwards onto the couch, her hands on her stomach — a poise she’s found herself in more often lately, with the small human growing inside her just starting to make itself more obvious. 

At the moment, Jess has settled in at his spot at the counter, tossing together some sort of chicken stir-fry with ingredients that he found in the back of his freezer and the pantry. Rory never would have guessed just how much he liked to cook, especially wouldn’t have assumed that he’s so good at it — but she supposes it’s also something she’s never been able to take for granted, since everyone knows Lorelai is certainly no master chef. 

Can you help me with something? The words are on the tip of her tongue, begging to be released as she watches him expertly cut the chicken breasts into strips, a few strands of his now-longer hair falling away from his forehead. 

(She’s not sure how she feels about his hair, though she does appreciate the fact that he looks older, unsure of whether it’s because of the hair or the stubble or just his overall older-feeling aura. She hasn’t mentioned anything to him — it’s certainly not her place, as his… 

What are they, anyway? On the nights when her loneliness has been the strongest, she’s spent the night sharing his bed with him, not complaining when he rolled towards her in the middle of the night, wrapped his arm around her stomach, his breath on her back. But they haven’t discussed it, Rory not even sure that she wants to. Would it ruin the content feeling that washes over her when she walks into the apartment, when he smiles at her from across the room, when she secretly wakes when he does, much earlier than she needs to in order to help open the restaurant, and feels the hitching of his breath when he realizes that he has once again unconsciously wrapped himself around her?) 

“It’s hard to concentrate when you’re staring a hole through my head,” he says finally, not even raising his eyes from the cutting board as he breaks the almost-silence of the apartment. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, but he just smiles. 

“Obviously you’re thinking about something.” 

It’s not a question, she can tell that much. He’s not really asking her to divulge whatever she is obviously thinking about, but she takes it as an invitation nonetheless. 

“I think I need to tell Logan.” 

This makes him stop working, set the knife down on the cutting board, turn his eyes up to meet hers. “Yeah?” 

She just nods. 

“If that’s what you want to do, I’m not going to talk you out of it.” 

“He’s going to want to know if it’s his.” 

Just as the words pass through her lips, she realizes that this very subject is something they haven’t discussed yet. Jess takes a deep breath, stepping away from the counter. For a moment, Rory fears the worst, that he is going to leave her with her spiraling thoughts — but instead he washes his hands in the sink before walking to her, reaching out to take her hands. His are cold, a side effect from the chicken that the hot water didn’t manage to wash away entirely, but Rory doesn’t really care — just the feel of them in hers warms her from the inside out. 

“He has a right to know that,” he says, trying not to let his own disappointment reach his face, Rory can tell somehow. 

“Do you want to know?” The question falls from her lips without her permission, but once it’s out, she almost feels a sense of relief. 

He squeezes her hands. “For me, knowing changes nothing. I’m here for you, for this one, for as long as you’ll let me, but the genetic makeup means nothing in relation to how I feel about you. You have to know that.” 

“He’s going to make me find out.” 

Now, it’s not affection that passes across Jess’ face, but something much darker. “Rory, he can’t make you do anything. If his desire to have anything to do with this kid’s life is dependent upon a genetic test and not—” 

“I kind of want to know, though,” she admits to someone beside herself for the first time. 

Jess nods. “If that’s what you want, then I’m not going to stop you. Make the appointment, I’ll go with you.” 

WEEK 20

“Now what do we do?” Rory asks, holding the paper loosely between her fingers. 

“It’s up to you, you know that,” he says, his voice as gentle as the hand placed on her lower back. She knows that he said he won’t be upset either way, knows that it doesn’t change the way he feels, but she can tell that he’s at least a little let down. 

“We decided that if it confirmed Logan was the father, I would tell him.” 

“It’s your decision, Rory,” he says, his voice soft, caring — more than he has the right to be. “Seeing the results of the test don’t change the fact that it’s still completely up to you.” 

I love you, she almost says. The words tickle the tip of her tongue, which she quickly clamps between her teeth, almost hard enough to draw blood. It’s not the first time she’s had the thought, but it is the closest she has come to actually speaking the words. 

It doesn’t help that they’re still avoiding the subject of what exactly they want from each other. Okay, maybe avoiding isn’t the right word, because Rory is pretty sure that he’s not doing it on purpose. What she thinks he’s doing instead is giving her space, time to think, not pushing her by asking what she can only hope spends as much time on his mind as it does on hers — but it’s also, simultaneously, driving her absolutely insane. He wants to be with her, he’s made that obvious enough more times than she can count — has been doing so for almost as long as she’s known him — but has always let her take the lead, always made sure that she was the first one to make the move. 

She just… doesn’t know how to do it. She does know that this moment specifically is not the time for it. 

“He still deserves to know.” 

Jess just nods. Takes half a step back from her, his hand still ghosting against her back, so light that she would forget it was there if not for the intense heat that he is always letting off. 

“Then let’s call him.” 

The words set a weight on her shoulders that she doesn’t know what to do with, make her back hurt a little more than it already has been, somehow. 

“I need—” she says, her breath suddenly much harder to catch than moments before. “I need to sit down,” she manages, maneuvering through the kitchen and into the living room before plopping herself down on the couch. 

“Do you want some water?” 

She just nods, hoping that he is paying enough attention to catch it. Either he does, or he just gets her a glass anyway, appearing beside her what feels like moments later with it in his hand.

I love you, she almost says again, but what really comes out of her mouth is, “I can’t do this.” 

“Of course you can,” he responds, resting his hand on her knee — again, gently, with more care than he needs to, and, again, somehow radiating heat, even with her own body heating with her inability to catch her breath.

“No. No. What if he— what if he refuses to stay out of it? What if he insists on coming here, on leaving his pretty little princess fiance and his high class life and moves to Stars Hollow just to spite me, just because he insists he deserves to be around when it’s very literally the very last thing I want?” 

“Rory, listen to what you’re saying. This is Logan we’re talking about, a man who never compromised anything for anyone—” 

“But he’s changed since you last—”

“Changed enough to leave behind everything he knows, his entire holier-than-thou world, to move to this shitty little town?” 

“Jess!” 

“I’m serious! When was the last time he has ever sacrificed anything for anyone, done something for anyone other than himself?” 

She takes a breath, coming slightly easier now, and releases it slowly. Then another. 

“He has no right to be here with you in the first place, Rory,” Jess says finally. “He wouldn’t change his plans for you in college and wouldn’t leave his fiance for you now. He may fight to see this kid every once in a while, to at least not be barred completely from its life, but in every other sense of the word, it’s ours, okay?” 

This is the first time he’s said that. Said anything even remotely like that. Every other time it’s been hers — her baby, her decision, her comfort. It may not be the words she’s been wanting to say, the questions that have been keeping her up at night, even when she’s wrapped in his arms, but it’s something. And even that feels huge. 

Nodding, she takes another breath and pulls her cell phone out of her back pocket. She places her other hand on top of his, still resting on her knee. “Let’s do this.” 

He answers on the second ring, moments after Rory realizes both that time zones are a thing and that she has absolutely no idea which one he’s in. 

“Rory?” He has the audacity to almost sound excited to hear from her. 

“Hey.” For a moment, it’s all she can muster, thinking about just hanging up instead of going through with the rest of it. Her fear must be painted across her face, because when she turns to Jess, he just ticks one side of his lips up in a smile, squeezing her knee gently. 

“Is everything okay?” Logan asks, at the same moment Rory manages, “How are you? Did I wake you up?” 

“No, no,” he says, “I’m in New York right now, weirdly enough, and I was--I’m gonna be honest with you, I was just thinking about you.” 

“Oh.” 

“Are you okay?” he says again, after a beat passes. 

“Well, no. I mean, yeah, but— listen, Logan, can you—can you just let me talk for a minute? Please?” 

“Uh, yeah. O-okay, sure.” 

She sighs, loudly, through her teeth, which she’s sure Logan heard on the other end of the line. She doesn’t really care. 

“I’m pregnant. Five months. There’s a chance that it wasn’t yours, that it— happened after I got home, but we did all the tests and stuff and it — well, it is, it’s yours, and I just felt like you had the right to know, even though I don’t want or expect or— whatever — anything from you. I’m staying here, with—” somehow, her brain makes the snap decision not to mention Jess. “In Stars Hollow, at home with my family where I’m comfortable, and you don’t — there’s nothing you have to do, I don’t even — you don’t even have to come meet it when it’s born, but I just thought that you should know.” 

Silence. Long, devastating, heart-pounding silence. 

When he finally speaks, it’s quiet, though Rory has the feeling that it’s to hide the words from someone around him and not because he’s been rendered speechless: “And you don’t… want to be with me?” 

“God, Logan, seriously?” She half-wishes he could see the way she rolls her eyes at his question. Maybe he can even hear it in her voice. Jess lets out a breathy laugh. “You’ve spent years not choosing me, not even believing that I could be your first choice, you’ve hurt me more times than I could count, have chosen yourself and others over me since we were young, and you think this is suddenly going to erase all of that? Finally, I’m doing something that makes me happy, doing something for myself, I’m with someone who accepts my decisions and wants what’s best for me, for the baby, and not for himself — do you even know how to do that?” 

Silence. Again. 

“You’re with somebody else?” 

She sighs. That’s the part he’s caught up on? She wants to be surprised. But she can’t. “Yes.” 

“If you hadn’t done the tests, hadn’t decided to figure out if it was —  would you still have called me?” 

“No.” 

Silence. 

“How did you expect me to respond?” 

“I told you, Logan, I’ve learned not to expect anything from you. We just felt like you had the right to know.” 

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, enough anger behind the sound that Rory can feel it in her bloodstream. “And who is we? Do I have the right to know who will be raising my child?” 

She expected a few things from this phone call. She expected to be overwhelmed. She expected Logan to ask her a few questions. She even half-expected to get upset with him. But what she didn’t expect was anger. 

“You know what? No, I really don’t have to tell you that, do I? I really don’t have to tell you anything, actually. I’ll make sure someone contacts you when it’s born, because you have the right to know that, I guess, but until then? Goodbye, Logan.” 

It’s one of those moments that she wishes phones still had the ability to slam, because angrily pressing the little red “end call” button doesn’t adequately portray just how angry she is at him. Tossing the phone onto the couch next to her makes her feel a little better, though not quite enough. 

“See,” Jess says after a moment, taking his hand off her knee just to wrap his arm around her shoulder. “I knew you had it in you.” 

It’s as if the phone call has awakened some sense of fearlessness in her, and between the adrenaline rush and her new-found freedom, she feels unstoppable: 

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” 

Watching the collection of expressions that pass across his face manages to pull a smile to Rory’s face. 

The stuttering that follows, even moreso. 

“I just — I wanted you — to make sure — I didn’t want—” 

“Jess,” she says, turning her shoulders to face him more head-on, and his words stop when she places her hand against his cheek. “Please, just stop talking.” 

First, he smiles, stretching the arm he has laying across her shoulder to run his thumb across her cheek. And then, finally, he does it. Softly, sweetly, gently — everything he has proven himself to be over the past few months. Everything Rory needed him to be. Everything. 

WEEK 21

“So, I, uh, talked to Logan a few days ago,” Rory says, stirring the sugar into the cup of (decaf) coffee sitting on the table in front of her. 

Lorelai almost loses the sip that is in her mouth, covering her face with the back of her hand, eyes wide. “Rory! You can’t just drop a line like that on someone with a mouth full of coffee.” 

Rory lets out her own laugh, taking another bite from her plate of chocolate chip pancakes. “Sorry! But look, I— I just thought you should know. Man, what was the last thing I updated you on? Did I tell you that we decided to do the paternity test?” 

“Uh, no!” she says, her eyes growing wider still. “How did you not tell me this?”

She shrugs. “I mean, I probably decided to wait until we got the results to tell you, I guess, so now—”

“Wait, wait, let me guess,” she says, holding her hand up between them. Rory rolls her eyes, but gestures for her mother to continue. “If you had to call Logan, then I’m assuming that means Jess is not the father.”

Rory sighs, and, taking another bite of her pancakes, nods. “Bingo.” 

“And how does Jess feel about all of this?” 

Heat rushes to her cheeks, but even that doesn’t stop the smile from forming on her lips. 

Her suddenly-trembling lips. 

“He says it doesn’t change anything,” she says, trying to swallow the lump that’s risen up her throat. “That he still, you know, wants to be with me, wants to help raise the baby, but, I mean, it had to have at least brought his spirits down a little.” 

“It’s a true sign of his feelings, though,” she says, as if it’s not something Rory’s been obsessing over since… 

Since when? Since they got the test results in the mail? 

Since they decided to get the test done in the first place? 

Since she told him she was pregnant in the first place? 

She knows that all of these are wrong, though. She knows that she has been obsessing over Jess’ feelings since the first time she saw him when she came back to Stars’ Hollow. 

“Can we change the subject? Please?” she asks, just in time to hear the door at the back of the restaurant open. By now, it’s a sound that she would know anywhere, followed by the knowing pound of Jess’ boots against the hardwood floors. 

“Your grandmother wants to throw you a baby shower,” Lorelai says, trying her best to ignore the way Rory’s eyes follow Jess through the restaurant, but the way she smiles as he approaches the table, as he presses his lips against her forehead, still pulls a smile to her face. 

“Did you hear that, Jess?” Rory asks. “Mrs. Emily Gilmore is going to throw us a baby shower.” 

“When?” 

Lorelai finds herself surprised by his lack of a sarcastic comment — though, she supposes, maybe he has grown up a bit. 

“That’s what we were about to figure out, actually.” 

“Well, she wants to have it on a Sunday, she says it’s more proper that way.”

“Is she going to let us be in charge of the guest list, or is she going to want to invite her friends?” 

“She seemed to sound like she wanted you to make all the decisions, maybe let her feel like she’s in charge of a few things, and she’ll foot the bill.” 

“Good ol’ Emily Gilmore,” Rory mumbles, taking a sip of her coffee. “But yeah, that sounds — I can do that, I’ll give her a call later.” 

 Between Emily’s other proper Sunday events and the few that Jess has to spend in video calls with the publishing company — the agreement he was able to bring them to after the weekends on the road became too much for him (for Rory, really) — they decide on a Sunday two months down the road, Emily being surprisingly lenient with Rory’s wanting to have it at the Dragonfly Inn, and to have it catered by Sookie. 

(“Whatever you want, dear, it’s your baby shower,” she kept saying, though Rory could almost hear the passive-aggressive smile that she knows was spread across her face.) 

WEEK 24

“Would it be weird if I read to him?” Jess asks one night, Rory’s head in his lap as they both type away on their laptops, Jess’ current favorite indie British band softly playing from the speakers of his. 

Instead of answering the question, Rory asks one of her own: “What makes you so sure it’s a him?” 

He shrugs, pausing his work to place his hand on Rory’s ever-growing stomach. “I just have a feeling, you know?” he says, spreading his fingers wide. 

Rory can’t help but smile. 

“I mean, I don’t think it would be weird at all. I’m pretty sure that’s even one of those things that — I don’t know — that you’re supposed to do?” 

“But, I’m talking about, like, Ginsberg. Plath. Frost. Short stories from the New Yorker. Atwood.”

“You can’t just read, you know, normal baby things, huh?”

“All we’re going to be able to do once they understand what we’re reading is read nursery rhymes and Dr. Seuss. Let me enjoy something exciting while I still have the time.” 

“What, you’re not a big fan of Fox in Socks? What about Guess How Much I Love You? The Very Hungry Caterpillar?”

“Rory, come on, I’m serious.” 

“Yeah, me, too!”

For a moment, they just stare at each other. I love you, she thinks again, less surprising every time she tastes the words on the tip of her tongue, but she’s still biting them back. Jess has let her take the lead for everything else, she wants to give him this one. Instead, she decides on, “Oh, my god, you’re impossible.” He smiles first, though, and she is quick to return it. “But fine, yes, okay. If the thing you want the most is to start introducing this baby to American beat poets early, then I suppose I won’t stop you.” 

They start with Frost — “He still rhymes, you know,” Rory teases him as he pages through his worn copy of Mountain Interval to find what he’s looking for — but Jess has only made it through the first few lines of “Birches” before Rory finds herself nodding off, both exhausted and lulled by Jess’ reading voice: 

“When I see birches bend to left and right

Across the lines of straighter darker trees,

I like to think some boy's been swinging them.

But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay

As ice-storms do. Often you must have seen them

Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning

After a rain. They click upon themselves

As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored

As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.”

But even with Rory’s eyes closing, with her quickly approaching unconsciousness, he doesn’t stop. He even goes back to his work for a while after the second poem, letting her sleep soundly next to him on the couch until he finds himself unable to keep his eyes open, and he rouses her only to move her to the bed. 

 After a week of Frost, next comes is Plath: “The Moon and the Yew Tree,” “Letter in November,” “The Munich Mannequins.” Unlike Frost, though, Plath does not put Rory to sleep. 

 For a few days, he reads pieces of a story from the New Yorker called “The Largesse of the Sea Maiden” — a piece that he was, ironically, supposed to write a review for but hadn’t yet found the time to focus on enough. Rory doesn’t particularly like it, but she does feel the little person inside her more often when Jess reads, though it’s not to a point where he can feel it yet, even with his and pressed against the taut skin of her stomach. 

 And then, finally, Rory lets him start Ginsberg. “A Supermarket in California” — “What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the streets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.” Somehow, it just works so beautifully with his voice, really makes her feel Ginsberg in a way she never had before. In a way she never really needed to, honestly, but one that she certainly isn’t upset about. 

“Cia Dope Calypso”: “In nineteen hundred forty-nine / China was won by Mao Tse-tung / Chiang Kai Shek's army ran away. / They were waiting there in Thailand yesterday. Supported by the CIA. Pushing junk down Thailand way.” 

“Cosmopolitan Greetings” — Rory’s favorite, if she ever needed to have one — “Stand up against governments, against God. Stay irresponsible. Say only what we know & imagine. Absolutes are Coercion. Change is absolute.” 

It’s a week before she lets him break out Howl — and she doesn’t tell him right away, but she can already feel the baby ready itself for their almost-nightly poetry slam, as if they already know what is about to happen. She made him agree that they would split Howl into three nights, three sections, the way it is supposed to be, but that doesn’t stop the hypnosis that takes over as soon as he cracks the book open. 

“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, / dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, / angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night, / who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,” he says, his voice picking up every syllable as if he wrote the words himself, and Rory is caught. 

There’s no going back now, either with Ginsberg or with Jess. 

“... who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull…”

“... who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear light of Zoo…”

“... who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago…” 

“... who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music, who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts, who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates of theology…” 

“... who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window, jumped in the filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed phonograph records of nostalgic European 1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears and the blast of colossal steamwhistles…” 

And then, it happened. 

One kick. Jess isn’t even sure that’s what he felt. 

“... who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to each other’s hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch or Birmingham jazz incarnation, who drove cross country seventy two hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity,…” 

Another. Okay, he’s more sure now. Especially as it happens again.

“... who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes—” 

“I don’t know, Jess,” Rory says, stopping him from continuing, and though he isn’t sure why she stopped, he’s very sure that what he’s now feeling is the movement of the baby. “I think maybe they like Ginsberg as much as you do.” 

But his mind just keeps going back to that last line he read. Instead of responding, he reads it again: “who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,” — and, yes, the baby kicks again. 

An almost-violent movement, pushing some of the skin of Rory’s stomach around with the movement, but she doesn’t seem to care, her attention focused solely on the smile that continues to spread wider across his face. 

“Not only that,” he says, setting the book spine-up on the arm of the couch so he can run the fingers of his other hand through Rory’s hair, not daring to move his hand from the spot that the baby seems to be targeting, “But I think they may have just chosen their name, too.” 

“What? Allen? Certainly not Ginsberg, that’s how you destin a child for a life of torture—” 

“No, no, none of those,” he says, shaking his head. “Besides, I may have a feeling that it’s a boy, but that doesn’t mean the name choice needs to be so certain.” 

“Jess, just tell me what you’re thinking.” 

“Denver.” 

Surprisingly — really, he certainly didn’t expect it to happen again — he feels the push against his hand, the movement of the baby just as he says it. 

“Denver,” she repeats — and they do it again. 

She smiles. “Do you need to finish reading the poem, or can you just kiss me now?” 

WEEK 30 

“So, Rory, can you tell us about Denver?” She’s actually a little surprised that the question comes from Miss Patty and not from the prying mind of Emily Gilmore. “How did you guys come up with the name?” 

Of course, she had the thought a moment too soon, and this is when her grandmother decided to speak up: “How they picked a name without even knowing the gender is beyond me.” 

“Mom,” Lorelai says, turning towards Emily with her eyes wide. 

Jess rolls his eyes, doesn’t even try to hide it from the other guests at the shower. 

Lane laughs from her seat on the other side of Rory. 

“It’s from a poem,” Rory says, trying to ignore everything else going on around her, her hand on Jess’ knee. 

“Now there’s a surprise.” This time, it’s Paris with the sarcastic comment. 

“A famous poem?” Liz asks from across the room, where Jess was sure that she wasn’t actually paying attention, sitting on her cell phone. He’s surprised, but thankful that she actually seems to care. 

“Depends on who you ask,” Jess says truthfully. 

“You guys can’t just pick a normal name from a normal poem, can you?” Paris asks — and this time, Rory rolls her eyes. 

“Why, what’s the poem?” Luke asks, his patience cut short by the collection of women (plus Christopher, who everyone knows is far from his favorite person) around him. 

“It’s called Howl,” Jess answers. 

Paris scoffs. 

Jess rolls his eyes. 

“Seriously, Gilmore?” Paris asks, completely ignoring Jess’ pointed glare. 

“What?” Emily and Rory ask at the same time, but in very different tones. “Is there something wrong with that poem?” Emily asks, already judging Jess before she’s even given the answer. 

“No,” Rory and Jess say together. 

Paris rolls her eyes. “I wish I was surprised.” 

“Lorelai,” Emily scoffs, turning to her daughter as if there is something she can do in this situation. 

“What? What could I possibly do that would make you happy about this? They’ve already picked out the name.” 

“It’s just not the most appropriate for children, that’s all,” Paris adds, possibly seeing that argument that she almost started. 

“What, you expect me to start reading nursery rhymes before the kid can even understand what I’m saying? I would think you would be smart enough to know that’s wrong, Gellar.” 

“Maybe I’ll just start calling you Ginsberg.” 

“What does that mean?” Emily asks, either trying and failing to whisper to Lorelai, or knowing exactly how loud her voice is.

“It’s the poet, grandma,” Rory answers. 

"Maybe you should just read us the poem, honey," Liz suggests, rather unhelpfully. 

"Good idea," Like agrees. 

"That's a terrible idea," Paris (unhelpfully) argues. 

"Well, is it long?" Michel finally speaks up, simply enjoying the banter from the sidelines to this point. 

"It's published as a novel," Rory tells them all. 

Jess, of course, has to argue for Ginsberg. "Yeah, but not, like, a full-length novel." 

"That doesn't mean you need to read it at the baby shower," Lane agrees. 

"You're naming your child after this poem, the least you could do is share it with us," Emily argues.

And that's how Jess wound up reading all of Part One of Howl at the baby shower. 

When he's done, no one speaks for a moment. 

Emily is, of course, the first to speak. "Well, that was awful." 

"Mom!" "Grandma!" 

"I mean, she's not wrong," Luke — unhelpfully — agrees. 

"For once, I agree with the man," Michel — unhelpfully — adds. 

Thankfully (Rory supposes), that's the most chaotic part of the shower. 

 As people start leaving, Luke pulls Jess aside away from the crowd, stopping from loading the new gifts into the trucks parked by the side door to the Inn. 

"What are you doing?" He seems angry, which confuses Jess. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Why haven't you asked her to move in with you yet?"

Jess is, to say the least, a little flabbergasted. "Is that what you want?" 

"Come on, Jess, you know this isn't about me. It's about you, it's about her, and it's about this baby." 

"I mean, she hasn't said anything about it." 

"Listen, I know you're letting her take the lead on everything, but sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith." 

Jess runs his hand through his hair — a little shorter than it's been recently, at Rory's request. He's only gotten compliments about it in the two weeks since it's happened, though, so he's assuming Rory isn't the only one who prefers it this way.

She's the only one that matters, though. She always has been. 

"What if she doesn't want to? If she thinks it's too much?" He almost doesn't ask the question — because it really is the main reason he hasn't asked her yet, despite all the times he's wanted to. The fear of denial. 

Luke almost laughs. "Then she'll continue to spend every night with you above the restaurant while still refusing to believe that she's not really living with us anymore." 

Jess contemplates this for a moment, silent. It's not that he doesn't want her to move in, doesn't want to raise the baby together, hopefully affording something more exciting than the apartment over the restaurant in the near future. 

Is it really what's best for the baby? 

"It would be easier to take everything there now than to have to move it all later," Luke comments, then slides his hat back over his slowly-greying hair. "I'll just leave you with that thought." 

But there's nothing more for Jess to think about, looking across the room to where Rory is standing between her mother and Paris, a smile spread over her face and her hands over her growing stomach. 

In just a few large strides, he crosses the room, pausing for a moment to let Sookie snap a picture of them with Lorelai's cell phone. "Rory, can I ask you something?" he asks, gesturing for her to walk with him. 

Smiling, she nods. "Of course. What's up?" 

He just goes for it. Rips off the band-aid in one fell swoop, or something like that. 

"I think it would be easier if we just took all of Denver's stuff to the apartment." 

"But there's more room for it at the house." She doesn't pick up on what he's trying to say. (He's not really surprised.) 

"We can make room for it." 

"But why?" 

"It would be much easier to just have everything in one place, don't you think?" 

"Some of my stuff is at the house, though." 

"Then we move what you need to the apartment, too." 

Finally — finally — she seems to understand, a huge smile spread across her face once the realization gets to her. 

"Yeah, okay," she says cooly, trying to hold herself together.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls au #literati #jess mariano #rory gilmore #baby gilmore #literati au #post-revival au #except I ignore half of the revival anyway #there's one more scene that's not written yet #but today is (ironically) my baby shower so I can't promise it'll be finished #so this is what you get

[frazzledsoul]

My attempt to exorcise some decade-old showrunner related demons (you’ll never guess which show, will you)

(disclaimer: I don’t have sources for any of the stuff I am going to talk about. Heck, I can’t even remember what publications these interviews actually appeared in. We’re talking about stuff that goes back to 2002 or so. You’ll either have to indulge me or believe that I was making this all up).

I was initially involved in the original Gilmore Girls fandom, which meant that I followed this show while it was first going on. This was well before the age of social media, so this meant a lot of poking around on Internet forums (hello TWOP!) and scouring media interviews for clues on what was actually going on. It was a lot different then than it is now.

Unfortunately, ASP was just as difficult then as she is today.

I will tell you that from early on ASP expressed an aversion to hooking Luke and Lorelai up because she didn’t think she could get it right. Jess was brought in as an obstacle, and then Digger. The ratings dipped at the end of season 4 (Rory was boring without the love triangle, and nobody liked Digger as much as ASP did) and ASP was forced to stop stalling on the show’s core couple in order to save it.

She later said that she wouldn’t have hooked Luke and Lorelai up if David Sutcliffe hadn’t been available for Christopher to cause “problems” for them.

So let’s skip to season six, when April is brought in as an obstacle, and everything is destroyed in as disastrous and painful a manner as humanly possible while the Palladinos are in the midst of a contract dispute. There’s a popular contention out there that ASP purposely torpedoed the show either to punish the WB for not agreeing to her demands or to set up a situation where only she could fix it. I don’t know if this is worse or better than what I believe actually happened, but I don’t think that’s all there is to it.

Both ASP and Lauren Graham directly gave interviews at the end of season six where they stated that it was time for Christopher to show how good he was at a relationship.

Excuse me, I have to take a moment here.

I believe there was also talk bandied around to the effect that if it didn’t work out that Christopher and Lorelai would have to remain friends like they had before and that Luke would just have to accept it if he wanted to have a relationship with her again as if nothing had happened.

I don’t blame Lauren for this. At the time, I thought she was interfering in the show for stuff she wanted to happen, but she was just really good at PR. A few years after the show ended, she and Alexis were doing interviews about all the babies Luke and Lorelai probably ended up having (how could Lauren know what the eventual game plan was?) so I think she’s just really good at selling whatever she’s given at the moment. I do blame ASP. I think the main reason everything happened in season six the way it did was because she really wanted Christopher and Lorelai to happen. I think she was also slowly losing her mind over the contract negotiations and she figured she might as well bring the show down with her if she was going to be pushed out.

Of course, karma backfired on her and she never got to do the grand Christopher/Lorelai relationship she wanted. Sometimes people do get what they deserve.

Even now, I still don’t trust ASP on this issue. In the post-revival interviews she always talks about the L/L nuptials as being something she had to do because the fans demanded it, but she is more than willing to go on and on about how gorgeous David Sutcliffe is. If given a chance, I don’t trust that she wouldn’t ruin everything again just because she could. I think that maybe she still partly sees Christopher as the charming bad boy who can make everything disappear if he waves enough money around, and she doesn’t understand that the majority of her audience just didn’t buy into that at all. This is why I so resent that ASP made Lorelai become the needy, insecure, irrational person she became at the end of season six, the kind of person who would obliterate everything and everyone around her because she wanted to be married so badly.

And Christopher was going to be the white knight who comes in with his bucket full of cash and gives Lorelai the fairy-tale wedding and future that suddenly was more important than anything else.

(I’m fully aware that there are some Christopher fans who still expected this to happen, even though the actor who plays him was not one of them. They occasionally come into the shipper tags and proclaim how terrible they think Luke is).

Seriously, woman. For the gazillionth time, I’m glad you got kicked off your own show.

Am I overreacting here? Um, yes. I’m the one that refused to go near the show after the sixth season (in part because of ASP and Lauren’s PR blitz which made things worse as far as I was concerned) and didn’t even want to see the part where what was so badly broken had been fixed. When I learned (years later) that what ASP broke had actually been fixed by other people, I became quite convinced that this was the only reason it had been fixed. I didn’t want ASP near these characters again because I thought she had planned an entirely different ending for Lorelai and would gladly redo the Christopher/Lorelai thing again because she didn’t get to do it the way she wanted the first time.

I’m a Southern woman. We’re crazy, and we hold grudges. It’s what we do.

Besides, given what actually went down with the other Gilmore Girl during the revival, does anyone here doubt that ASP is petulant and stubborn enough to do that if she really wanted to?

Of course, on this I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

There was a lot to complain about in the revival, and I’ve contributed my fair share to it. I do think the Christopher issue was handled a lot better than I ever thought ASP was capable of. It’s made clear that Lorelai and Christopher are not in contact at all. Lorelai speaks of their relationship entirely in the past tense, and directly states that that she thinks their entire relationship/marriage experiment was a mistake. While even I’m not sure things needed to be that drastic, Lorelai did need to set boundaries in order to avoid the same patterns she’d fallen into over and over. She did need to do something concrete so that Luke could fully trust her again and not fear that she’d run off to Christopher every time something went wrong.

Like Rory once said, it always ends up with Lorelai crying and alone. That relationship needed to end. Christopher appears to respect these boundaries, and knows that the best thing for Lorelai is to leave her alone and stop interfering in her life. He knows that she was in love with someone else all along, and he accepts that, and wants her to be happy.

It meant a lot that ASP explicitly wrote these things into the text, and lays it out that Lorelai is devoted to Luke, and that Christopher is not a viable alternative anymore and has not been for a very, very long time. It meant a lot that she directly states that the relationship she tore her show down for was a charade, and that Lorelai loved Luke all along. It’s definitely a positive development that all three parties accept this, and affirm that the happy ending we got is the one we were meant to have all along.

I’m not sure if it counts as an apology, but I’ll take it.

I still refuse to watch another show from the Palladinos ever again, though.

#long rambling thoughts #luke x lorelai #showrunner throwdown COME ON DOWN #luke danes #lorelai gilmore #that other dude whose name I refuse to put in the tags #gilmore girls #gilmore girls ayitl

[ghostmaggie]

the gilmore girls/the office au no one asked for

it’s two am as i write this and i’m an idiot, but i got it in my head and couldn’t wait. so here you are, 2k of a gilmore girls the office au! 

Jess Mariano is not going to be a paper salesman forever. This is a stepping stone, like Walmart; it’s a day job to pay the bills while he struggles, strives, dreams, in the quietest corners of his mind, of writing. The novel is half-finished, always half-finished, but it’s not like he has that much energy left to write at the end of the day, after a 9-to-5 of idiots and drudgery and complete and utter bullshit.

Rory Gilmore always had promise, but that was never actually a good thing. She was smart enough to know affording Harvard was a pipe dream and the stubbornness she inherited from her mother prohibited her from accepting help from anyone—including her snobby and semi-well-meaning grandparents. All the scholarships and part-time jobs she could scrounge just weren’t enough, and the dream got put on hold.

Being a receptionist at Dunder Mifflin Paper Company was never the plan, not really, but Rory pretends she doesn’t see the terrible blend of disappointment and guilt in Lorelai’s eyes and makes it a point to gush about all the experience she’s getting and how the slow hours in the day are great opportunities for her to keep up with the news and write some spec pieces and definitely not waste eons playing spider solitaire and maybe, when she gets a little more saved up, she can start taking some online classes and getting a leg up while she figures out her next move.

(Lorelai can’t help thinking she’s been “figuring out her next move” for three years now.)

Jess’s deskmate, Doyle, can be irritating as anything and a prime target for pranks, but damn if he isn’t good at his job, in his own twisted way. He’s going to be manager someday, Jess knows, and God help them all when that happens, but the company’ll probably make millions.

Equally or more disturbing as coworkers go is Paris from accounting (though she likes to stick her nose in everything). Jess is pretty sure Doyle is sleeping with her, but he himself mostly stays out of her way except for a few specially crafted quips once in a blue moon. Rory has a lot of respect for her, though, as well as the required healthy dose of fear, and it’s not long before a begrudging friendship blooms between the girls.

(“We have to stick together in this male-dominated industry,” Paris says. “Is paper sales really the feminist hill we want to die on?” Rory has to wonder.)

Jess is pretty sure he fell in love with Rory at first sight. He knows, he knows, even he thinks he’s cheesy and ridiculous, but those big blue eyes and bright smile were the first thing he saw when he walked into his first miserable day of a miserable job in a miserable office, and he guesses he imprinted on her, or something, like a baby chicken. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Rory immediately claimed him as a fellow newbie and an ally against the weirdos of Dunder Mifflin, pointing out each of them in turn and revealing any dirt she’s managed to dig up on them.

(“Quite the journalist there, aren’t ya?” he teases, and Rory blushes. “Hardly,” she says, but she looks very pleased.)

From there, it just makes sense to linger at reception whenever he can, to make faces at her during inane meetings in the conference room or throw paperclips at her while he’s bored on the phone. They IM when they don’t want Doyle to know what they’re talking about and coordinate their lunch breaks and shit, shit, shit, Jess is actually seriously falling for a girl probably for the first time ever. He tries, he seriously tries, to keep up the too-cool-for-school, the-world-can-suck-it attitude he’s perfected since grade school, but Rory Gilmore is pretty much kicking his ass and he’s barely two weeks into his job when he’s positive that today is the day he’s going to ask her out.

(That’s the day he meets her fiancé.)

Rory started dating Dean when she was 15. They’ve been engaged since she was 17, since the summer before she thought she would go to college, before her plans crashed and burned. At the time, Lorelai had supported her, but warned her about the dangers of a boy trying to lock you down right before you leave to find yourself. But it turned out she wasn’t leaving, so Dean didn’t really need to lock her down. Maybe that was why they’d been engaged for four years with no end in sight.

Dean had been consistently working construction since he graduated high school and ignored Rory’s encouragement for him to go to college. It was about a month after Jess started working thirty feet from her that he got the job in the warehouse downstairs, but Rory quashed the part of her brain that tried to debate correlation vs. causation in this case. Dean had always been the jealous type, but he had nothing to worry about with Jess. He and Rory were friends. That was it, end of story. She soon got tired of having to repeat that.

She knew, secretly, that her friendship with Jess was more than friendship, or at least more than her other friendships. It’s not like she had a lot of reference points, but he certainly wasn’t like Paris, or Lorelai, and though he had more similarities to Lane than Rory was expecting, but there were still some very strong differences.

One day, sometime after Jess learns about Dean’s existence but before the latter starts working in the warehouse, Jess learns that Rory Gilmore liked reading. And that’s when he’s really gone. He starts stealing her novels from her desk when she goes to the bathroom and returning them with notes scribbled in the margins that make her glare at him with good-natured reproach when she finally gets them back. Soon he starts bringing five or six books to work on a given day instead of two or three, just so he has some options when she inevitably agrees to trade with him. They’ve read enough of the same books that they could fill the rest of their lives just with talk of those, but they’ve both got enough recommendations and knowledge of each other’s taste to push off and intersect those conversations at every turn.

If Jess didn’t think he was in love before, he knows know he has no chance of making it out of this alive. So he goes ahead and tells her all his dreams and passions, because what the fuck else is he going to do at this point.

(Maybe the worst part is that she loves his writing, becomes his number one fan in an instant. And she tells him her story, and he knows that he will probably never be good enough for her.)

From Rory’s perspective, it’s not long before Jess’s presence becomes what makes life at Dunder Mifflin tolerable, and they fall into a pattern that lasts years. 

By the time something actually happens, it’s clearly inevitable.

Jess, for all his stony demeanor and witty barbs, can’t help wearing his heart on his sleeve. Everyone who saw him and Rory together knew he was in love with her. And everyone saw that, despite everything, Rory wasn’t leaving Dean. So Jess decides that he gets to be the one who leaves.

He goes to Stamford, when the opportunity crops up, because it’s plausible deniability—a pay raise, a slight title boost. Those are good reasons in and of themselves. It doesn’t have to be about Rory. Nobody has to assume that it’s about Rory. It’s just…a bonus, he guesses, and he tells Rory as much.

(“Aren’t you kind of…giving up, in a way?” the girl herself worries. “You want to write, Jess, not climb the corporate ladder.”)

(He scoffs at her, desperate to hide his bleeding heart under whatever armor he can scrounge up. “Look who’s talking,” he says. “What the hell are you doing, Rory? You could have been anything, anyone, but you were scared, so now you’re here, in a deadend job, a deadend relationship—” He breaks off at the tears in her eyes. “I…” he says, but there’s nothing else to say, so he changes his mind and leaves.)

Three months of something like hell follow, but neither of them want to be the one to admit it.

Paris used to mumble under her breath about how she half expected Mariano to lay one on Gilmore every time he leaned on that stupid reception counter. She’d lost actual money in a bet when Jess left without ever kissing Rory, at least to the best of Paris’ knowledge—which was pretty reliable.

It’s actually Rory, in the end, who kisses Jess first. He gets back from Stamford and she’d had no idea he was coming at all, just bumps into him in the parking lot as she’s leaving late and he’s coming to—well, she doesn’t know why he’s there.

(He’s there to see her, of course. The gesture is there, and noted. She just beats him to the actual punch.)

She doesn’t mean to do it, and she feels like shit afterwards, because she’s not a cheater, she doesn’t want to be a cheater, oh no, is she a cheater? But she does it, she sees him standing there, leaning against her car, always too cool, and she doesn’t even know how to breathe. She walks to him, slowly, and his mouth curves into a nervous smile, just a hint of a sarcastic edge.

(“What are you doing here?” “I came back.” “But…why?” “I just…wanted to.”)

(She kisses him.)

(It’s everything and nothing like he imagined.)

She pulls away in a panic.

(“Don’t say a word!”)

She slips away from him and slips into her car and drives away, leaving him there speechless and alone but he can still feel the warmth of her against him. So he smiles.

Rory, for her part, feels like her heart will burst out of her chest. She’s smiling, but she starts to cry, because it’s going to get really good, her story, but she has to get through the hard part first. She tells Dean that they need to talk, and he knows, of course, that it’s over.

He yells, of course, tries to talk her out of it. Tells her he loves her. She has to remain firm.

(“It’s Mariano, isn’t it?” he demands. “It is,” Rory says, “a little. But mostly it’s you.”)

It is without a doubt the hardest conversation of her life, but Rory gets through it. She goes to her mom’s house to spend the night. Lorelai holds her while she cries and stuffs her with takeout, and she promises her that everything will turn out alright, and that she did the right thing.

Rory takes advantage of the leave she’s accrued over the years and takes a week to stay with her mom and reevaluate her life. By the end of the week, she’s figured things out.

She sits down next to Jess in the first meeting of the day on her first day back, firmly, even though he’s refused to meet her eyes all morning. She takes his right hand in her left one, intertwines their fingers. She feels him stiffen when he registers the lack of a ring, and she smiles. He squeezes her hand, tentative, and chances a glance at her.

(“We should talk later,” she whispers, and he’s embarrassed by the force of his smile.)

Later that day, Rory spends several hours researching online college prep courses. Later that day, Rory makes half a dozen pro-con lists. Later that day, Rory makes her way to her grandparents’ house with a proposal, swallowed pride, and high hopes, and leaves with a somewhat brighter future. Later that day, Rory kisses Jess Mariano again, and tells him that she might just be falling in love with him.

Later that day, Rory and Jess begin their happily-ever-after.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls fanfic #gilmore girls fic #gilmore girls au #gg fic #rory x jess #jessxrory #the office #i will probably edit/add to this later but i want to post it now becuase i crave validation #pls validate me

[frazzledsoul]

Disclaimer: I am less than proud of this post. I was going to keep it in my drafts, but I figured I’ll just put most of it under a cut instead. It’s pretty ugly and angry and irrational and I can’t back up most of the claims I make, but it is what it is. As I said the other day on here, no one thinks less of Amy Sherman Palladino than me. I don’t like her or trust her and while I might begrudgingly respect her for the show she created in the first place, I will not touch anything new she does in the future ever again. I think she’s earned that in spades: most of what I talk about here can be applied not just to love triangle shenanigans that happened a decade ago but to Rory’s plot in general in the revival, which was in its way a much bigger betrayal of everything the show stood for. It’s definitely a pattern and it’s not a positive one.

I will also say that one of the major reasons that the events at the end of season six hit me so hard is because I lived a much uglier, messier, more devastating version of these events in my family twice over the past 15 years. I’m obfuscating the details to protect the guilty, but in real life the damage is so much worse than what we saw played out on screen. There are some things that will never, ever be okay with me, that there are just no excuses for, no matter what. I don’t think I ever really processed that part of it, nor did I ever really process what it felt like to be dealt the final blow in what seemed to be a long, contentious battle between the creator of this show and the fans who kept hoping that Amy wouldn’t do the one thing we always feared she would resort to in order to achieve her own ends. So much of the time it felt like we (and Luke, but he’s fictional, so he’ll get over it) were just bugs waiting to be squashed.

So maybe this is because I am in a melancholy mood lately, but I just had some things to get off my chest about why I’m still so angry about the end of season 6 eleven long years after the fact. I still take it personally, and I still feel betrayed by that whole wretched plot development, and I still will never, ever forgive ASP for what she did. The revival may have worked out to my satisfaction, but I still don’t want the woman to write new episodes of the series because I don’t trust her. There’s no reason to believe she wouldn’t take everything positive she last left us with and obliterate it just because she could. She’s got a long track record of doing exactly that.

The bottom line is that we talk about this damn showrunner too much. It’s not a good reflection on her work. If what she was writing was good enough to speak for itself, we wouldn’t spend so much time trying to justify her choices and going WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF over and over again. Honestly, it shouldn’t be this hard. This is coming from someone who does still make a lot of excuses for her, from Luke and Lorelai not having kids to their decision to delay marriage to Rory’s surprise pregnancy and dour, unimaginative fate. The idea that everything she does is inviolable because she’s the one controlling the puppet strings and nothing else matters is a really unhealthy mentality.

Sometimes it’s okay to just flat-out say that a lot of the stuff she forced on us was simply wrong.

Of course, part of this is my fault because I come at it from the other side, too. It’s not in the best interest of an invested fan to pay too much attention to what the writing team says. They don’t see it like we do. It’s mostly pieces to move around on a chessboard to them and they’ll never understand why we care so much. I think the fan culture is much more balanced these days, or maybe I just say that because the only other shows I keep up with are genre shows where being a fan is an experience that’s so much bigger than what happens in those 42 minutes we see onscreen. It’s not to say that problems don’t exist or that there isn’t fan discontent, but it’s not like it was ten years ago. We’re all part of the whole for so much of the experience.

Showrunners like ASP (and I would count the notoriously sadistic Shonda Rhimes in here, too) don’t play that game, of course. I can definitively say that if I had never read any of her interviews, this would have been a way more pleasant viewing experience for me. What if I hadn’t known that ASP kept come up with excuses to keep Luke and Lorelai apart because she didn’t think she could get it right? What if I didn’t know that she only hooked them up because the show got into trouble ratings-wise and she knew David Sutcliffe was available for Christopher to “cause problems” if she got bored? What if I didn’t read that interview where she essentially said that anyone who cared about Luke would have to accept him being relegated to the sidelines because it was time for Christopher to show how good he was at a relationship?

What if this entire fandom experience didn’t feel like a huge battle to keep ASP from bringing it all crashing down in the most disastrous way possible so that she could pursue the relationship outcome that she really wanted? What if it didn’t feel like a constant fight not to have one of my favorite characters be replaced? What if I didn’t feel that it was only a matter of time before Lorelai would betray Luke in the worst way possible, and do the one thing that he and the fans always feared the most, just so that ASP could have her favorite swoop in on his white horse to rescue her from the love interest who would always only be humble and ordinary?

Maybe it’s never a good idea to know what’s going on behind the curtain. Knowing all of this definitely made what was already a deeply upsetting plot twist that much worse. It’s impossible to have faith that any of this is ever going to be fixed when it seems the person in control is always fighting against you. There was no reason to think that it was going to get better, because she didn’t seem to want the same things that we did. We were just standing in the way of the happy ending that she preferred.

I didn’t have many expectations for what I wanted from this show. All I wanted (during the OS and the revival) was for Lorelai not to run off with Christopher and break Luke’s heart after they had been together. When Amy wrote that ending that so many of us feared would eventually come, it felt like a spit in the face, a final triumph on her part for this adversarial process. It was anyone who care about Luke and Lorelai as a couple or even Luke by himself against her and her Christopher fantasy, and she won. The worst part was that I had quit watching months earlier because I knew it would always come back to this. I tuned into the last half of Partings hoping that she wouldn’t do what I always dreaded, that she wouldn’t take it that far. But I had been right all along. 

Of course, maybe Christopher was just a diversion in the first place. It doesn’t change the fact that Amy twisted Luke into something he wasn’t in order to build up his rival simply because she was bored. None of this had to happen, but she wanted more time with her favorite and the rest of us had to suffer the consequences. I really, really want to say that what she planned was temporary and that the happy ending we got was in the cards all along, but in my heart of hearts I’m never be able to talk myself into completely believing that. She still can’t bring herself to talk of the happy ending she eventually gave us as anything other than what the fans forced on her.

Why shouldn’t I believe that she would choose the worst possible outcome if left to her own devices? She already did it once before.

You’ll notice I haven’t talked a lot about the actual plot twist in question. There’s nothing I can say about it that hasn’t been said before. The truth is that we can argue about whose fault it was until the cows come home, but it was a plot machination whipped up so that ASP could write the Christopher/Lorelai romance that she always seemed to really want. The Lorelai I knew and loved for six seasons (because despite some immature passive-aggressive behavior earlier in the season, she still remains very sympathetic to me right up until the end here) would not go as far she did. No matter how upset she was, no matter how betrayed she felt by Luke telling her no, she would not hurt him the way she did. She wouldn’t blatantly use Christopher like that. She wouldn’t put Rory in the position of having to sift through the ramifications of her fucked-up latethirtysomething love triangle and put her on shaky terms with both of her father figures.

The Lorelai Gilmore I knew wouldn’t have hurt the people she most cared about that way. She wasn’t that type of person. I’m intimately familiar with that type of person, and Lorelai was better than that. But if that’s what needed to happen for ASP to get what she wanted, that’s what was going to happen.

I know it was fixed eventually. Fate intervened before ASP could write that Christopher plot she wanted so badly, and we got not one but two happy endings for Luke and Lorelai. Believe me, I’m grateful for all of that. But it doesn’t change what happened, and it doesn’t make it any less of a betrayal as far as I am concerned. I really wish I had been less Internet savvy back when I was watching the show, that I didn’t view everything in terms of this fight I felt ASP was having with the fans through the media. In the end, I don’t know if it would have made any of it make any more sense to me, though.

I’m glad we got the ending we did, but the fact that we had to suffer through so much to get it was completely unnecessary. I no longer let myself get emotionally attached to ships or characters: I still fangirl, but in a more general way. It’s not worth it to fight another war with someone who’s at such cross purposes with what makes her enterprise work, or who seems to delight in making her fans as miserable as possible. I haven’t encountered a situation like this with anything else I’ve gotten interested in, but there are always things out there that end up slamming the door in your face at the last moment. The finale of HIMYM is probably what comes closest.

If we have to focus this much attention on the writer’s motivations in order to justify what she put forth, something clearly isn’t working right. If it can’t stand on its own, maybe the creator needs to take a step back and focus a little less on forcing her own agenda on something that isn’t right.

Or to put it much more simply, the shippers aren’t always wrong.

#lonnnnnng rambling thoughts #i had 11 + years of pent up angst and I needed to put it somewhere #lesson learned: dont read showrunners interviews #there's a lot of personal stuff in here for me as well #gilmore girls #gilmore girls ayitl