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saltygilmores · 8 months

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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, 2/18, "Back In The Saddle" Part 3, The Chilton Boss Babe Meeting

Part 1 Part 2 Part 2½ (Dean's Phone Stalking) I just got home from a stressful vacation where I lost my phone and so I'm immediately jumping back into these, because wishing for Dean Forrester and Lorelai Gilmore to get barbequed makes me feel balanced again. I had to dedicate an entirely seperate post to the Dean's Phone Harrassment scene in this episode so click the link for Part 2½ above if you haven't already checked out that highly disturbing ish. Michel's Mom is visiting the Inn. Who cares.

Hey now, it's not nice to say things like that about Lorelai, I mean, she's standing right there. Do it behind her back like I do. Oh, they were just talking to each other. A little family banter. Carry on.

Looks like at any minute he's gonna tell the gang they can "be their own boss, babe."

Seeing 2002, the year I graduated high school, in large, stark naked writing like that shakes me to my core. "Style Aid Corporation, RX 2002: A First Aid Kit For High School Students" is so goofy, you can't help but love it. Richard informs Rory she is the group leader, chairman of the board, head of the table but Paris takes charge of the meeting anyway while Rory gets to sit pretty and play chair warmer. She will contribute two completely useless sentences to the entire meeting, see below.

This looks like the trajectory for a rocket launch, not for the development of a lunchbox full of bandaids. What is there to plan? Step 1) You throw the bandaids in the lunchbox. Step 2) ? Step 3) Profit?

*WHAT ABOUT THE COMPETITION! What about it? Other scribblings I can make out: "First choice for second place", "Revise your alt positions list".

Oh, wow it just looks so compact and portable and something that will totally fit into the oh so spacious locker of the typical American high school, and not at all made of metal and something that could be used as a makeshift weapon by bored high school students. I have never seen Paris look so self satisfied about wallowing in mediocrity.

They're looking at the suitcase like she just put Thanksgiving turkey on the table.

The contents of the waterproof, fireproof MakeShift Weapon 2002 (which comes in 12 style options besides Blood Of Paris Geller's Enemies Red) are as follows. Take it away, Paris! ...... She...doesn't actually say what's in them. But, you can trick them out when you order a Deluxe Model. Pimp my Metal Lunchbox, Paris!

HOW MANY CDS CAN IT HOLD RICHARD?!

WOW!!!!!

A MIRROR!!!

Are "Knickknacks" and "Valuables" what the kids of 2002 were calling drugs? I don't remember, maybe I was on drugs.

This scene is HILARIOUS my god.

Thank you for your helpful contribution, Chair-Warmer of the Board/CEO (Chairman Effing Off). A quick glimpse of Amazon will reveal that (at least in 2023 dollars) a metal lunchbox with a handle sells for somewhere between 15-20 dollars. The price for a fully stocked first aid kit (with or without lunchbox housing) varies but they are mostly under $30.

Dear Amazon Seller: Does your Paw Patrol lunchbox come with a 10 cd holder and two secret compartments for hiding drugs? What? It only holds 9 cds? I bid good day to you, sir.

PLEASE! I want this MLM meeting to go on FOREVER. Sadly, there are 16 1/2 minutes left in the episode and I fear the Lunchbox Gang scene will peter out and most of the episode is going to be eaten up by Dean somehow. There's literally nothing else going on. The Marketing Team has ambitious goals to advertise their red lunchbox of death in mainstream magazines.

Please please please mention the names of trendy magazines that I used to read in high school, the ones that were overflowing with toxic garbage damaging to the young female psyche. You know, just like Gilmore Girls.

Okay, I cheated a little and pretended I didn't know she would say this. I totally remembered the magazines. Nostalgic references stick in my brain like used gum. It was all for dramatic effect. I will not apologize. I read ALL of those magazines growing up. (Anyone else remember Teen People? It was one of my favorites. Slightly less boys/makeup/fashion focused and it's reign was too short). The boys will get targeted in "Spin" and "Rolling Stone" magazines because Girls don't like music.

Chip is 35 years old and got lost on his way the polo match and now he's going to be a Boss Babe too. Slay!

Me time traveling backwards to the Chilton MLM meeting: I am a time traveler from the distant year 2023! Let me tell you kids about what happens to malls...

WEBSITES!!!! So, like, seeing this is still 2002, you're gonna slap a bunch of flashing banner ads all over whatever websites were popular in 2002 (I can't remember anymore except that I loved those aggravating websites where you copied & pasted little outfits onto tiny dolls?). The flashing banner ads that would make you absolutely blind with rage, blissfully unaware of how good you had it before the terrifying future internet would arrive? That's how you're going to push your lunch boxes? Good luck. Emily has the audacity to enter the meeting and ask the guests in her home if they'd like anything to eat and Richard isn't happy about it. There is no room for pleasantries and hospitality and dare I say ICE CREAM at the cut throat Lunchbox Meeting. (peeps ahead to what's ahead after this) Oh GOD its THIS.

It's just that thing where Dean stalks Rory some more and pulls another highly disturbing stunt that would have Lorelai putting Jess Mariano's head on a pike in the same situation but instead I'm sure she's just going to kiss his forehead and give him milk and cookies and then make sweet love to him.

I was so naive to think the Lunchbox Gang could last forever. Au revoir, my friends. Au revoir. Till part 4.

#denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 2 #GREAT GRAND WONDERFUL #ILL TURN THIS DAMN BUS AROUND #rory gilmore #paris geller #boss babe #lunchbox #back in the saddle #billy madison #I'll tell you who stole those lunches #that damn sasquatch

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

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Investigations (Part 6): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.8k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

song recommendation:

"Mommy, you're getting bigger!"

The slapping of Kai's shoes on the wood flooring, his little body rushing toward you with his arms spread wide, is enough to make you forget the emptiness you felt like an ache in your soul.

"Kai, don't say that..."

Ran chastises him, coming through the door with the Paw Patrol bag slung over his suited shoulder.

"It's fine," you reply, squatting down to hold your son close. "He's just a kid." Ran doesn't respond. He just slides the backpack off his shoulder and shuts your apartment door, sitting it on the marble counter before walking around the fixture slowly.

"Packed five changes of clothes," he begins, ticking off his fingers. "Snacks and a water bottle. Some toys. And the books you wanted."

"Thanks," you whisper, unzipping the backpack to check if he made sure the clothes were matching this time.

"Y/n..." You sigh, feeling Ran's fingers slide up your hips and rest on your small bump. "You should really reconsider this. You're going to need help with the baby, and--"

"Ran." You don't face him; you can't look at his sad eyes. They're too convincing... Too alluring. You'd separated for a reason, not because you wanted to play coy. "We need to get through counseling before I can consider anything."

"I miss you." The words are like a siren's call to your heart, and you want to turn around. You want to hold him and kiss him and... But he'd just do the same thing over and over again. His lies would become more convincing, and you'd be in dire straits, all while sleeping next to a lying manipulator.

You decide the heartbreak isn't worth it.

"I'll see you on Sunday evening." Ran gets the hint. His hands slip away from your body and he says a soft "bye, champ" to Kai before walking out of the door.

_____________________________________________________________

You remember the day Ran came to get you like it was yesterday.

Cliche, but true.

He'd stormed into the little home Taiju had allowed you to remain in, his violet eyes blazing with anger and betrayal. Taiju followed behind him, yellow eyes apologetic and maybe even a little guilty.

"I'm sorry, y/n," Taiju whispered, hanging his head. "I--"

"Pack your things." Ran grabbed you by the wrist, yanking you toward the room you'd just emerged from, but you snatched it back, snapping,

"Fuck off."

In a split second, Ran had his hand raised in the air, poised to slap the taste out of your mouth without a second thought. But he stopped himself, remembering where he was. Who he was with. And who you were.

Taiju yanked you behind him in the milliseconds between Ran raising his hand and the thought of slapping you crossing his mind, full of fury.

"You can hit me, but if you hit her..." The threat stood between the two men, holding them apart with the promise of violence beyond your rashest fears.

"I want a divorce," you croaked.

Ran's eyes softened, and his mind flitted from the "I" to the "want" to the "a" and settled on "divorce".

"Y/n, please, I--"

"I want a fucking divorce."

The drive home with Taiju was the longest drive you'd ever endured.

And then you found out... you were pregnant. The timing couldn't have been worse. You only told Taiju - mainly because he would end up being the godfather due to the circumstances - but when you asked for a divorce, you had moved out.

Ran committed to helping pay for your apartment while you looked for a job, but once you found one as an administrative assistant to someone your family knew, you rejected any and all payments. Kai was shared between the two of you without a court order (you got weekends, he got weekdays), and you'd gotten used to living on your own for the first time in over five years.

And Kai... Kai hadn't understood why Mommy wouldn't be with him Monday through Friday. But Ran tried to explain it in soft tones and gentle hand-holding, and somehow it sunk in that Mommy needed to "work" and Daddy would do most of the caretaking while you worked hard for your independence.

But as the weeks passed, signs appeared, and Ran caught on pretty quickly with his methodical calculations and scrutinizing eyes. And when he found out you were pregnant and hadn't told him?

You sat through a half-hour-long, tear-filled speech that emphasized that Ran would be a part of the child's life in any and every way possible. Through that conversation, though, you agreed to marriage counseling. So... maybe it was good that he found out the way he did.

_____________________________________________________________

"Mr. Haitani, do you want this marriage to work for you or against you?"

"What kind of question is that?" Ran scoffs, crossing his arms.

"It's the kind of question that just might save you from being divorced and alone."

You can see Ran soften, uncrossing his arms and leaning his head on his propped-up hand.

"I want it to work."

"And Mrs. Haitani? Same question." When the woman turns to you, you feel something in your own heart crack, and for a moment, you think it's the pregnancy hormones that are making you cry. But you shake your head at yourself, wiping your eyes preemptively.

"I want it to work. For us. I don't want Kai to be without a father." A pause. "And I don't want to be without my husband." You don't see how Ran reacts because you're too busy sobbing into your own hands, feeling every single emotion you've held at bay come crashing down on you. But the large couch dips, and Ran places his arm around you, enveloping you in a hug as you weep.

"Then we need to rebuild trust before we can get to true reconciliation. Can I recommend something?"

"Please," Ran replies.

"Spend this evening just being honest with each other. Nothing distracting you two, just the two of you and your truth. Mr. Haitani, you need to be open enough to be honest and give her the answers to any questions she might have. And Mrs. Haitani, you need to do the same."

_____________________________________________________________

You're sitting between Ran's legs, staring at the crackling fire while he rests his large hands on your knees.

"Ask me anything."

The floor is open. The first question that comes to mind is:

"How long have you been in gangs?"

"Since I was thirteen." Seventeen years... This is a way of life for Ran.

"You've killed a man before." A statement, not a question.

"Many. But never for fun." You turn to look at him, and Ran looks down at you, raising his brows. "Never. And very rarely these days." South.

"Did you ever think about leaving?"

"All the time. The first time was when you and I got married. Then when we had Kai... then when you found out."

"And what's stopping you?" Ran thinks long and hard.

"It wouldn't make you trust me any more than you do now." You nod, quirking your lips to the left. That is true. "But also... I want to provide for both of you. I can't leave without some consequences. And we'd never be safe. But I can provide safety for us if I'm in power."

That is also true.

"Can I ask a question?" Ran whispers.

"Of course."

"Do you really want to divorce me?" You stare at the flames again, the answer very clear for the both of you. You just have to say it out loud.

"No." Ran sighs, dropping his head on your shoulder.

"I can't be without you." You lean your head on his and close your eyes, letting his lips press against your skin. "Please, come home."

"When we finish counseling," you promise. "I'll come home."

"Can you stay with me tonight, though?" You hesitate, but Ran cups your neck in his hand, whispering "please" into your skin and you give in. What good is it to fight the thing you want? To fight the man you need?

You kiss Ran with everything that you are, turning around to embrace him gently. You run your hands through his hair, tugging the short locks slightly as he lifts you onto his lap and kisses you deeply.

"Never leave me again," Ran pants, running his hands up your back. "Please. I felt like I could barely breathe without you."

"Never break my trust again," you reply, and Ran hums softly, littering kisses all over your face. "And I won't ever leave you."

Your lovemaking is slow and thoughtful in front of the fire, Ran's hands holding your hips with feather-light touches, and swiping your hair away from your face whenever he can't see your eyes staring back at him. It's this type of sex that Ran seems to take the most pleasure in... the closeness, the sweetness, the passion... it's all wrapped up in his soul, and he's pouring it out to you without words.

"I want you to be happy here," Ran grunts, stroking your g-spot with his skilled length and kissing the swell of your breasts at the same time. "With me."

You moan, and Ran opens his mouth to speak again.

"And I want you to be safe." He pauses, swirling a nipple around with his tongue. "And warm..." Ran's hands move from your hips to your face, and he leans down to brush his nose against yours. "And mine."

"You're all that I am," you breathe, and Ran's eyes light up, remembering the part of your vows you had said on your wedding day, which were completely unscripted.

"And you are all that I will be." His reply makes you arch your back upward, and you shake as he brings you to your climax, stroking all of the right spots and tending to your every need.

"R-Ran..."

"Shhh... Kai's sleeping. Don't want to wake him, do you?" Ran teases as your body clenches around his cock. "Gotta be quiet or-- fuck, fuck... Oh, my god..." Ran shudders, cumming inside of you with stuttering hips and fingers gripping your hands in his. When you both slow your pants and come down from your highs, Ran pulls you up and onto his body, leaning back onto the soft, plush carpet - and still inside of you.

You both stare into the fire, tangled and merged with one another by a red thread.

"I can't let go of you," Ran murmurs, and you look up at him in question. A tear tracks from the corner of his eye, and you swipe at it, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"You don't have to." You lay back down on his chest, trying to remain awake and relish this time with him, but you feel yourself slipping, falling, crashing into a deep sleep, one you've needed for a long time.

#ran haitani smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani

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cosmicpercy · 6 years

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Those are some good headcanons! Look I'm gonna be honest with you. I can't write for shit but I can make you edits or a fanmix, so tell me... what kind of music are you into? Is there an AU you would like or something like that?

Hello!! i haven’t really given much thought about an AU for them because tbh, right now, any universe where jackie and hyde end up together is more than enough for me!

Oh man, with music, *squeals* i listen to different types of music!!! like i don’t necessarily have a favorite genre or maybe i have one but i’m just not familiar with how it’s called. i’m gonna tell you a short story about me lol. most of the time, when i listen to music, i listen to a song of an artist and if it turns out i like them, i’ll listen to the entire discography. and also i have a special liking towards official soundtracks of films or tv shows so yep okay back to the topic… here are the musicians/artists i listen to most or like (i think you’re familiar with a lot of them):

coldplay, one direction, niall horan, harry styles, the 1975, panic! at the disco, snow patrol, arctic monkeys, birdy, the boxer rebellion, kodaline, the paper kites, sleeping at last, christina perri, regina spektor, taylor swift, ed sheeran, sia, the naked and famous, twenty one pilots, bastille, one republic, the script, lany

oh and i like listening to old songs too but i listen to them per song not necessarily per artist and i’m sure i missed a lot on the list but that’s all i remember for now

anyway, here are the songs that are making me incredibly emotional right now:

hello my old heart - the oh hellos**

dear true love - sleeping at last

to build a home - the cinematic orchestra

paint - the paper kites

high hopes - kodaline

youth - daughter

medicine - daughter

sweet disposition - the temper trap

feels like home - chantal kreviazuk

where i’m coming from - bronze radio return*

basic instinct - the acid*

discoloration - dawn golden*

go! - soft swells*

falling together - mason brothers*

canyons - paw city*

ends of the earth - lord huron*

asleep - the smiths

way back into love - hugh grant & haley bennett

girls/girls/boys - p!atd

place for us - mikky ekko

* - these are my all time favorites from Shameless (US) soundtrack

** - made me cry A LOT & get incredibly emotional

oh my god i think i’m making things harder for you, i’m sorry!! i got carried away with sharing the music i listen to! hahahaha whatever gift you send me, i’ll appreciate it i swear :)

#t7svalentine2k18 #that 70s show #jackie x hyde #jackie burkhart #steven hyde #zenmasters #ask #anon #hello mail #music

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hottmessexpresss · 4 years

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Fever.

Back problems.

These mothafuckin'Kids.

Three days ago, my son woke up sick. He had this look* on his face. An unsettled look. He looked me dead in the eyes, and he started to gag. My eyes widened with horror. My instincts kicked in, and I did what my dad would do when I was growing up. The only sure way to know you have reached another level of parenting: held out my hands cupped together held under his chin. A vomit catch-all, if you will. Maybe it's a kid instict too. He knew* what it meant and what to do. He played and was fine throughout the day. Thank god.

The NEXT day, I developed a decent fever. I felt like my body was ran over by an 18 wheeler. "Greaaaaaaaaaaat!" I thought to myself. I laid on the couch half dead in a pool of my own sweat staring at the clock. Is 7:00 too early for bedtime? My daughter ended up puking ONCE that evening, so i figured it was a 24 hour tummy bug. No other symptoms. No more vomit. Both kids seemed fine. I prayed that I would not fall ill, and that I**wouldn't be sick. Could you imagine? Being sick AND being the mom? Being the house chore manager? Being the post-op surgery home nurse? What the hell would that* be like? Well, my dad has always told me, God must have a sense of humor based on my life being like an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm....and it was a god awful sense of humor, if that.

Yesterday, I was swiffer wet jetting a pool of urine on the floor. I shook my head, did my usual lecture on how only an animal would pee on the floor. How grayson wasn't an animal, and how pee goes INSIDE of the toilet. Not inside his construction cement truck (boys🙄😬). I bent over, and my life flashed before my eyes. BAM. I almost collapsed to the floor. I was sweating and writhing in pain. I couldn't muster up ENOUGH inertia to walk my body forward. My knees started to buckle, and immediate panic set in. Of all times for this to happen, with my luck-- it did (cue Curb Your Enthusiasm theme song). I am damn near 30 years old, and a Swiffer wet jet mop, along with a slight twist and bend movement, put me to the fuckin' floor. Meanwhile, J-Lo who is in her 50's is pole dancing and dancing at a top performance rate for a Superbowl half-time show. And again, here I am, in the same clothes as yesterday, my body getting over a fever, AND NOW pulled my back out of place. I was angry and upset that I have disabled myself.

Of course, Grayson and the baby caught wind of my sudden lack of movement and chaos ensued. Both hanging on my feet, whining and crying and fighting each other to be held. Every second ticked by slowly, as I completely winced and cursed in pain. I huddle by the cat tree. I try to stand and lean onto it and realized..I needed help. But who could help? How?

My husband was at work. Barely 2 weeks post-op from his shoulder replacement. I broke down in tears. My husband has just now been able to shower by himself. He's still in a sling and has very limited movement. What the hell am I going to do? With different parts of our bodies being out of commission, how* could we do this? I reluctantly called him. In tears, I waited 45 minutes before he got to the house. Before he arrived, with a little help from my Grayson, I was able to dress the baby. Grayson picked his clothes out, and got ready all by himself (I was shook). I waddle slowly to my bedroom and grab some socks and my Nike's. Grayson hauled ass into my room like always (because there isba child lock and it's forbidden) kneeled down and helped me put on my socks and shoes. I told him my back was hurting and he told me, "Don't worry mom. I'll fix it!" He lifted my shirt gently, and started to scratch my lower back. The tears were welling up. He got the baby clothes from her drawer (after one attempt), and sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" to her as I changed her. I was overwhelmed with many emotions. I was in that moment, proud of Will and I's parenting and how my sweet and sour child, was being sweet and helpful to me.

Will arrives. He's stressed. I'm stressed. I keep apologizing over and over to him. I shove fruit snacks in my jacket. Will raises his voice at me to stop trying to put Grayson into his car seat. We are both frustrated. We are both not feeling it. I get to urgent care and wait for the doctor. He comes in after 10 minutes and says, "Oh? Are you striking a pose for a photo?" My hip is out and I'm leaning against the wall. I laughed. I explained what happened. He felt my hips and lower back. "Oh. Wow......you have HUGE knots all over the place...no wonder!" I held back tears. Then. This man turns to me and has THEE AUDACITY TO ASK ME** "Do you need a doctor's note for work?" I cracked a smile, but also wanted to strangle him right then and there. I explained my husband is two weeks post-op from shoulder replacement surgery, and that I have a 10 month old and a 3 year old at home, and all three are waiting in the car for me. He smiled and said, "I'd reccomend taking it easy, but that's not realistic is it?" He gave me a toradol shot, steroids for the inflammed muscles, muscle relaxers and T3. My anxiety sky-rocketed. I knew how Toradol made me tired. I knew how muscle relaxers obviously*** relax your muscles. T3 makes me groggy. How the fuck am I supposed to function on these AND take care of the kids?

So long gone are the days of being injured or sick and being able to sleep or "relax". So long gone are the days when no one else depended on you to be a fully functional adult during times of illness or injury.

My husband told me to go nap and relax my back. Though I was irriated by having to listen, and fight back the internal urge to pick up the toys on the ground, I obliged. Thinking back to a few months ago, my husband's sciatic caused him to be down and out from work for three days. I sat up in bed thinking of this. No offense to my husband; he works extremely hard and allows me the luxury of staying home with the kids. However, in this moment, I realized I wasn't able to experience the same "luxury" of taking three days off. Being a stay at home mom means, no days off. When youre sick, the world doesn't stop. Your toddlers certainly don't stop. So you, as the mom and house-manager, trudge through it. Because there is no other option or reason. Some are lucky to have family nearby that can cushion some of this blow. But unfortunately, that's not the case here. Instead, I facetimed my mom and cried to her, asking her to tell Grayson to be good for me. It worked (for a while).

I hate sometimes that these types of "problems" often come across as "complaining," but to me, just shows that a Mother's job never ends. We don't get to clock in, and clock out. We don't get paid lunch breaks. Often times I eat standing up, and pee with a rather curious audience (like when Grayson handed me toilet paper and told me to wipe my gina and did a horrendous digging motion with his hands). I don't get uninterrupted breaks. I don't physically see a paycheck deposited into my account.

This morning I woke up and before I got out of bed, I said a little prayer about being able to walk today. Thankfully, I can walk (at least). I made coffee, and waited for the monsters to wake up. I cooked them eggs and toast. I bribed grayson with a fruit snack to help get his sisters walker, and I slowly slowly lifted her in it. Getting her in and out of the crib has been a challenge. Babies want to be held and carried, and do not understand why* their mother isn't picking them up (torture).

I am realizing women are strong. Though I physically feel decrepid, I am appreciative of what women endure on a daily basis. Whether you work or stay home, being a mother is a 24/7 job that often goes without praise or recognition. Instead of binge watching Mad Men, or The Office (for the 56th time) posted up chillin' on meds, I am watching Paw Patrol while my kids nag and cry at my feet. "You should be THANKFUL. YOU HAVE THE BEST JOB IN THE ENTIRE WORLD....and an IMPORTANT ONE IF THAT." Well, Karen. Yes. Yes I do. I am "blessed" and "cursed" by this experience. I am** thankful. However, I am a human being. I am allowed to scowl and huff to myself, "this isn't fair!" While wanting to break down into tears. How dare I feel so selfish?

I am allowed to have bad days. Being a mom doesn't mean I am some bionic robot (though some days it definitely feels like it)

So here I am standing, slouched over the counter trying to rub a tennis ball into my lower back while my toddler screams, "THAT'S MY BAAAAAALLLLLLL MOM." All while my daughter also starts to scream (because her brother is screaming) I can't do anything but count to 10.

"Being a mom means having to choose between eating, showering, or sleeping. You can't do all three in one day" -unknown

Hug a mom, grandma or aunt today [or anyone that has raised you] and give yourself a pat on the back for being a bad ass super mom.

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