you give a bad name to psychics like me who pride themselves on the purity of that gift. there are so many people out there who already doubt what we do, now you’ve given them all a reason to think that we’re fakes. you sicken me. I’M SICKENED!
shawn spencer, psychic detective. wrangling attempted by zanza.
( featuring burton guster as a guest muse )
@hiepalien said ⇾ “And I said ‘no’… You know, like a liar.” probably talking about some shit with her mom i dunno
JOHN MULANEY SENTENCES, accepting.
the end of lane’s rant comes with a statement that’s so definitive, and lorelai’s pretty sure she’d caught the gist of it all — she hopes so, anyway, but her attention span has never been spectacular and while her average words per minute exceed what’s typically considered humanly possible? keeping up with teenagers isn’t her forte on the days where michel has gone on and on and on about... something she doesn’t care enough that she remembers now. it’s fine, that’s a problem for later-lorelai, while the lorelai of the present zeroes her attention in on the problem that’s directly in front of her. “okay, so you lied, that’s not the end of the world!” is that even reassuring? well, a girl can hope, “do you know how many times i lied to my parents when i was your age? puh-lenty!” hands rest on her hips as she smiles.
“listen, kid, your mom’s terrifying, i’ll give you that. the woman terrifies me, and i’m not a woman easily shaken,” okay, that’s up for debate, but not right now it isn’t, “but that doesn’t mean it’s gonna mean anything like a month from now, is it? you’ve gotta look ahead sometimes, think about if the problem of the moment is gonna seem so bad when you’re looking at it in some future moment.” lorelai pauses before diving back in, a singular breath sustaining her, “not too far in the future though, ‘cuz one time i tried to go like fifteen years off, and i, uh, i got lost in a rabbit hole of stars hollow in a back to the future-esque scenario and all i could think about was taylor yelling at everyone for trying to use those hoverboard things!”
❝ my brain is a wild jungle full of scary gibberish. ‘i’m writing a letter, i can’t write a letter, why can’t i write a letter? i’m wearing a green dress, i wish i was wearing my blue dress, my blue dress is at the cleaners. the germans wore gray, you wore blue, ‘casablanca’ is such a good movie. casablanca, the white house, bush. why don’t i drive a hybrid car? i should really drive a hybrid car. i should really take my bicycle to work. bicycle, unicycle, unitard. hockey puck, rattlesnake, monkey, monkey, underpants!’ ❞ // independent lorelai gilmore, by zanza. est 2016.
she remembers the first time she swaddled rory gilmore, the way how her little breath regulated & the way how her whole body just relaxed. it was truly a sight to see — and now? now rory’s up & about, able to run & speak in sentences. most young college students wouldn’t be thrilled to have to raise a toddler along with studies but addison actually loved it. there is this warm feeling in her chest to feel how much this girl would trust her & the love she witnessed between lorelai & her daughter — nothing could quite describe the ways how this small family unit of theirs made addison so happy.
❝ uh huh — humble too, might i add. ❞ she tries to speak with a straight face as another eye carefully look over rory, making sure she doesn’t render her anatomy textbook in worse shape than it already is.
hand dives into the bag of chips whilst the sound of it crinkling causes her to wince ever so slightly — god, that’s loud. and before she could even have her snack, addison bursts out laughing, only to emphatically shake her head in response. ❝ she went for it! ❞ she exclaims breathlessly with laughs mixed between her every breath. ❝ i think we found ourselves a natural born feminist here! ❞
she doesn’t know what she’d do without addie. mellie too, of course, but addie’s the reason lorelai’s here at all, she’s the one who’d encouraged her to come to school and who’s supported every step she’s taken since. having people who love her kid almost as much as she does is lucky, and it’s even better that lorelai trusts them both endlessly.
“oh, incredibly humble. if there were awards for humility? i’d win ‘em all,” she laughs, a goofy grin lingering even after she finishes laughing. “and rory would win cutest college toddler ever. i’m pretty sure we’d all qualify for plenty of awards, so it’s great,” she shrugs, reclining and allowing herself to relax just a little.
okay, she can’t help but laugh again, “wait, my kid willingly reading sylvia plath? you sure you weren’t punishing her for throwing a kegger?”