#and of course luke/lorelai

[terrainofheartfelt]

All the best romantic ships on Gilmore Girls have the same thing in common. Weirdo4Weirdo

[lovealwayssay]

Season 3 of Gilmore Girls might be the best season of Gilmore Girls.

[jomiddlemarch]

Reality has no place in our world

“Mom, stop. You can’t do this,” Rory said. She didn’t fold her arms in front of her chest or glare, two gestures Lorelai herself might have chosen to accompany giving an order, but then Rory was a better person that Lorelai would ever be and also, not nearly as accomplished at glaring; unlike Lorelai, she hadn’t spent the formative years of her facial expression life under the tutelage of Emily Gilmore and neither Luke nor Michel every gave Rory a hard time.

Rory didn’t look angry or exasperated or impatient. She looked a little frustrated, a little tired, and mostly, disappointed. Christ, it was so early, the sky still the dull dark of the moonless hour before dawn, and she’d already made Rory give her that look, the one that wasn’t a glare, and speak in that tone. 

“Do what? The cha-cha?” Lorelai shuffled a bit, shimmying a lot more. “Wake up before my alarm—check. Face the future without fear? On it—”

“You can’t leave Max. You can’t run away the day before your wedding,” Rory said. “You can’t do that to him.”

“No?” Lorelai said, as if she was going to add Try me or watch me or you’re not the boss of me, when it came out sounding like a real question and she was open to alternate suggestions, which as she said it she realized was, in fact, the truth.

“No. You can’t. Whatever’s going on inside your head, you can’t be that mean to him, to just leave. You can’t be cruel because you’re freaking out,” Rory said. “You’re freaking out, right?”

“So, I’m mean and cruel? Did you forget nasty?” Lorelai said, crossing her own arms in front of her. Someone ought to and it didn’t seem like Rory was going to. She carefully avoided answering the freak-out question, though it didn’t take a world-class genius to raise the hypothesis.

“I didn’t say any of that and you know it. This isn’t some cute rom-com, where you can ditch the guy at the altar and then there’s some montage of a roadtrip or a bunch of zany, over-caffeinated high-jinks,” Rory said.

“That sounds better than this,” Lorelai said. “A lot better. What’s the soundtrack?”

“It’s not. It’s not real,” Rory replied, ignoring her attempt at deflection. “You have to call Max. You have to talk to him, before you decide to do whatever you decide to do.” 

“I do?” They both heard the reference to wedding vows and Lorelai raised an eyebrow. Rory frowned.

“Don’t make this weirder, Mom. Call Max. I’ll get the phone,” Rory said.

“Okay. Fine. You’re obviously not going to let this go,” Lorelai said. Was she a little relieved that Rory had called out her imminent scarpering? Around 23% seemed fair. 

“I’m not,” Rory agreed. “You’ll thank me for it.”

“Don’t press your luck, kiddo—"

She called.

Max answered on the second ring, his voice the kind of growly that meant she’d woken him, which wasn’t a huge surprise because it was still hovering around 5 am. They didn’t talk for long. She asked him to come over and he said he’d be there in 20 min without asking any questions why, which was big of him given the time and date and she knew she herself would have expected some kind of explanation and probably would have taken more like 40 min to get to his apartment, because she damn well would have made a travel-mug of coffee even if she was heading over in yesterday’s jeans and the first tee-shirt she could put her hands on.

With only 20 min, she made a pot of coffee and put on fresh jeans. She didn’t change her tee-shirt. The coffee had been Rory’s idea. Lorelai recognized Rory was looking for other ways to keep her from bolting besides guilt and that coffee, naturally, was the best available approach. Lorelai sat at the kitchen table and waited for Max, letting Rory be the one to open the front door and then take herself off to Babette’s, since it was too early for anywhere else to be open.

“What’s wrong?” Max said, sitting across from her, a mug of coffee in front of him, untouched. Lorelai herself was also untouched, Max forgoing a hug or a kiss or even his hand on her shoulder or pushing back the loose hair by her cheek. She couldn’t be bitter about it, but she was, a little, even though she knew she was being unreasonable.

“Why do you think something’s wrong?” she countered, as if this would be some kind of ordinary sparring, like whether Al’s food could ever truly be called Chinese or if Brandy was a good name for a dog.

“Why do I—it’s 5:23, you called and asked me to come right over. There’s no good news you deliver that way,” he said, pretty calmly given that he could well be deeply frustrated, annoyed or outright enraged at her dancing around. He hadn’t even gotten to see her cha-cha.

“Maybe I do, maybe that’s something you don’t know about me—”

“Lora, enough,” he interrupted and she couldn’t have said whether it was hearing the nickname only he ever used or the brevity, just two words, or the tenderness in his voice, in his tired, dark eyes, but something in her broke.

“I don’t think I can marry you,” she said.

“Okay,” he said. “Why couldn’t you wait to tell me?”

“Okay? Okay?!” she repeated, screeching if she were being honest with herself, which is what this whole thing has been supposed to be about. 

“I didn’t mean I was happy to hear you say it. It was an acknowledgement, nor approval. Why couldn’t you wait until actual morning?” he said.

“I wasn’t planning this.” She took a sip of her coffee. It wasn’t as good as Luke’s but that was nothing new.

“You weren’t planning this—” he paused, looking at her with a degree of acuity that made her want to flee. Or squirm. She gripped the handle of the mug and hoped it wouldn’t break off in her hand. They sat there for like forever or 47 seconds, she couldn’t be sure. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Rory’s idea, us talking, she’s the only person you’d do this for—”

“I’d do it for you—”

“No, you wouldn’t,” he said. “You were going to leave. You were going to leave me a day before the wedding.”

Well, she’d known he was intelligent and good at reading her and quick, so fucking quick, that was why she’d fallen in love with him—

“Were you going to write a note? Call?” he asked. Lorelai sat, feeling lumpish and pathetic and all betrayal-y, and didn’t say a word. Max closed his eyes for a moment and let out a breath. “You weren’t going to do anything. You were going to run away and someone else was going to have to tell me. To deal with everything.”

“Sookie would’ve called you,” Lorelai said. She tried not to mumble, though she really felt like mumbling, more than she’d ever want to mumble in her whole life.

“You’d have called her from wherever you went,” Max said. “She’s making the wedding cake.”

“Five tiers,” Lorelai said. “All buttercream frosting. She has a thing against fondant.”

“It tastes like shit,” he said. It was quiet between them, so quiet a bird could have twittered or sung its cute little morning song so they could share a smile or the eye-part that went with a smile without actually moving their lips, but it was quiet and she wondered if Max would get up and walk out. 

“What’s wrong, Lora?” he said softly, which was a far cry from stomping out or shouting or making a snide, sarcastic remark about her, which were all the responses she would have expected from the other men in her life, Luke, her father, and Christopher respectively, and for the first time, she felt her eyes fill with tears.

“I don’t think I can do it. I’m not—you won’t want, I, I didn’t look at my dress every night,” she said in a rush.

“Is that a thing? Looking at your dress every night?” he said.

“My mother says it is.”

“But you think she’s wrong about almost everything,” he said. He made a good point.

“She said she wanted to, that’s how she knew she wanted to get married,” Lorelai said.

“Maybe that’s not how you’d know,” Max said. “In fact, I would bet good money that it’s not how you’d know, because I know you like your dress but it’s not even a distant second to coffee in your regard.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Lorelai said.

“Have you ever thought you don’t have to? That we don’t care about each other because it’s something we deserve, but because I want you and you want me?” he said.

“You don’t want me,” she said, before she could think twice, could stop herself or figure out something that would come after, some explanation about how there was a much better woman out there for him and he shouldn’t get derailed by her. She didn’t want to be his trainwreck.

“Don’t tell me what I want,” he snapped, then rubbed his face with his hand. “I’m sorry, this is hard. But I know what you expect. You expect me to walk out, plus or minus lashing out at you first.”

“What—”

“It’s what Christopher does. He leaves. It’s what Luke does. He walks away, he shuts down. It’s what you father does. He scolds you and he stalks out,” Max said. “Lora, I’m not going to do that.”

“But why?” she said. “Why not?”

“Because I love you. Because if loving you, I need to leave you, I’m not leaving like that,” he said.

“I was going to,” she said, almost under her breath.

“I know. But you listened to Rory and she wouldn’t let you,” he said and then he scrunched up his forehead in a way that was unfairly adorable. “She’s very insightful. And not here—is she next door at Babette’s?”

Lorelai could count on one hand the number of times Christopher had ever expressed concern about where Rory was, who was looking after her, or uttered a smidgen of praise that wasn’t of the generic “so pretty so smart” variety. 

“Yeah, she’s next door,” Lorelai said. “I still don’t think we should get married.”

“I know about Luke,” Max said. Lorelai suddenly understood the expression knocked over with a feather, though she didn’t know who was keeping feathers around for such a purpose. She felt herself goggle at Max and knew it was not her most attractive look, but needs must.

“What do you mean, you know about Luke?” 

“He hand-carved a chuppah for you to get married beneath. I can recognize when someone else cares about you. You never asked, but he must have,” Max said.

“Must have asked what?”

“He knows you’re not Jewish. He found out I am and he built a chuppah for you,” he said. “It sure as hell wasn’t for me.”

“You’re Jewish?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “My mother’s side. The side that counts. She was a Cohen before she married my father.”

“I had no idea—”

“I didn’t fall in love with you for your astonishing attention to detail and detective skills,” Max said. “I’m in love with you and I know Luke loves you and you love him, but are you going to throw away what we have when I’m not asking you to give him up?”

“What are you saying, Max?” Lorelai shook her head. “Despite what my mother thinks of me, I’m not…kinky.”

“Wow, that is a whole other conversation,” he said, laughing, which was not something she’d had on her bingo card for the discussion about breaking an engagement at the last minute. “I meant, you don’t have to stop caring about Luke, I don’t expect that. I don’t expect him to stop loving you—if there’s anything I can understand, it’s loving you. But not as a husband. Not as Rory’s stepfather—I want that and he doesn’t—”

“How do you know he doesn’t?” Lorelai said. It was the second time this night-into-morning that she’d said something that was intended as a challenge and realized she’d just asked a question of someone she trusted more than herself.

“Because you’ve lived here for over ten years and he’s never said anything, for all the breakfast, lunches and dinners he’s made for you. He’s never asked you out on a date or stayed for pizza or Al’s. He’s never been the one who ran out to the pharmacy to get Tylenol when Rory spiked a fever or needed posterboard for a school project at the last minute,” Max said. 

“Rory has never needed a school supply at the last minute,” Lorelai said. 

“He’s never made the cupcakes for the bake sale. Sookie did that and she still does,” Max said. He pushed his coffee mug away and left his right hand palm up on the table top. She’d held that hand, felt it cupped around her cheek, pressed against the small of her back and the curve of her ass. It was unclear whether she’d ever touch him again and she wished she could read the future in the creases and lines being picked out by the early morning sunlight. 

“Look, I’m not telling you you have to marry me and it’s not a contest and it’s not a guilt-trip. I’m only saying that I love you and I think you love me and what you’re worried about, about needing to choose, about not caring in the right way, the right amount, I think it’s bullshit. It’s partly your mother’s fucking bullshit and some of it is societal expectations and some is your own stuff going back to Christopher and the teenage rebellion that turned into being a teen mom. I want you to be happy, to do what makes you happy, but I want you to know where I stand. What I can live with. You’ll never stop loving Luke and Christopher will always be Rory’s father and I am okay with that, with all of that. Because I fucking love you, Lora.”

“I love you too,” she said. “But maybe, I don’t know if it’s the right way—”

“When has doing anything the right way ever mattered to you?” he replied and she had to laugh because it was true and because he understood her enough to know it and say it.

“I’m not sure it’s enough,” she said.

“What is enough? Is a thousand yellow daisies enough? Is agreeing to call me at 4:53 enough?” he pushed. “This isn’t a rom-com, it’s real life. And we’re not both sixteen, we’re adults. Let me ask you, why did you call me today? I know if was Rory’s idea but you did it, you could have refused, you could be driving to God knows where right now—”

“I wanted to,” she said. “I wanted to hear your voice. I didn’t call because I felt like I owed it to you. I’m not that good a person.”

“I want to talk to you first thing in the morning,” Max said. “I don’t ever want it to be too early.”

“What about too late?” Lorelai said. She’d done a fair job of royally fucking things up for all his protestations to the contrary. The caffeine and sun might be hitting him, he might think twice about sticking around.

“No such thing,” he said. He didn’t move, so she let go of her coffee and put her hand in his. “But maybe you want a new dress?”

“I can’t get a new dress the day before the wedding, Max,” she said, already thinking of that sweet little number she’d seen in a consignment store window in Hartford, all nipped in waist and Givenchy New Look attitude and the look Max would give her if she were walking toward him in it. She thought of Max watching her come closer and Luke watching her walk away until she was in the shadow of the chuppah he’d built. She thought it was impossible and that she’d heard worse ideas and not just from Kirk on any topic.

“Says who?”

She wore the new, second-hand dress.

Max stomped a glass wrapped in a cloth napkin in lieu of a rabbi. 

She didn’t take his name. In the receiving line, Luke kissed her cheek and called her Lorelai. Cutting Sookie’s masterpiece (Every tier a different flavor! Homemade quince preserves! Candied white violets!), she didn’t notice the weight of her wedding ring, but she couldn’t look away from the gold band on Max’s hand.

When she woke in the night from a dream full of dread, regret, the terrible mixture of mistake and failure, that hand lay gently on her hip and when she grew too tense, he murmured what’s wrong, Lora and then she could go back to sleep.

[fitzwlliamdarcy]

i just started new girl and this happens to me everytime i watch a show that has been finished for years "WHY I DIDN'T STARTED WATCHING SOONER????"

its exactly what i need at the moment because it's genuinely funny, my depression is cured!!!

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

being so obsessed with ted/rebecca is kind of making me luke/lorelai nostalgic because i just want to go back to when my shippy life was SIMPLE

(and i feel like these two pairings have a lot in common, like, vibes-ishly)

[breannacasey]

Hiii 😍 for your flufftober list, can I please request #23 Trinket for Tarlos? 😘

Of course you can! Thank you, for your request, it's all done and will be posted on October 23rd!

[ivystitches]

lorelai gives luke an ultimatum and tells him that he should figure out how april fits into their lives and not how she fits into his and april’s relationship, and this may just be a cultural thing but how were any of you rooting for her? and then she goes and sleeps with christopher?!

[thesweetnessofspring]

"I don't think I ever really loved anyone, until Luke."

[clumsycapitolunicorn]

.

[razrbladekiss]

MAPLE HAZEL | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: he’s grumpy, and you’ve got enough happiness for the pair of you. you visit joel’s little coffee shop every morning, and he can’t deny that he enjoys the monotony of life with you the other side of his counter.

PAIRING: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

WARNINGS: inspired by lorelai gilmore and luke danes, so with that info do what you will. this is full on golden retriever x black cat realness. fluffy. banter-y. dialogue-y. joel is grumpy but he’s sexy so we don’t mind. enjoy, my besties. not sure if i’ll do a part two, but i’ll let you know in due time, of course.🍁🫶🏻

SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s like he’s moving from muscle memory. Putting down a cinnamon roll and maple hazel latte—with two extra shots of espresso—in front of the third purple stool at his counter, is almost ingrained into his brain. He wonders if one day you’ll ever take him by surprise and order pancakes, or a chai tea.

And you will. Just not today.

“Cinnamon roll, please!” You call from the door as you bumble over the threshold, fighting with the belt loop on your coat that’s gotten stuck on a brassy handle for the third time this morning.

“Already one step ahead of ‘ya.” Joel gestures to the breakfast spread at the wooden bar, and you smile.

Despite being a closed-off, stupid-person-hating, placid-at-times, grumpy old man, you can’t help admitting that you enjoy Joel’s company and general presence in your life.

His shop appeared on Birch Grove one sunny Saturday morning about three years ago, and you haven’t skipped a day since. Aside from Christmas Day, you have religiously sat at Joel’s counter and shared the trials and tribulations of life in Dallas as an overzealous twenty-something every single day.

He’s a great listener. Or, at least, you think that he is. He never interrupts you, or speaks over you. Joel always lends an ear to listen, even if he doesn’t always say all that much in response to whatever it is that you’re elucidating or complaining about.

“Thank you.” Breathlessly, you say. You take a seat and dump your purse onto the counter. “Got a busy day today. I’ve got a meeting, and I’m meeting Maria for lunch, and I’ve got a date—“

Joel’s face heats up. He turns to face you, striving to stay indifferent.

“A date?” Nonchalant, he asks. He slings a dish-cloth over his shoulder, and lifts a brow. “Does this man know that he’s going on a date with you?”

You make a face while stuffing a fork-full of pastry into your mouth. He’s so smug. With his stupid flannel and stupid little hat, you just want to rip the complacency from his lips. But he’s a good man. Just likes to try and take you down a few pegs.

But he can’t. Because you’re stubborn. And a little annoying.

“No, I just thought that I’d show up at his house in the middle of the night—because I’ve followed him home from work a few times and know where he lives—and rip him right out of his bed just like the troll that Danny Devito plays in Its Always Sunny.”

Joel let’s out a little laugh, not bothering to argue that what you had just told him didn’t actually happen in that episode, but finding it funny nonetheless.

He nods his head to you. “What’s his name?”

“Marcus.” Exaggerating your heart-eyed gaze, you tell him. “I met him at Costco—“

“Ah, Costco. Where every great love story starts. First you’re bulk-buying toilet paper, the next you’re sharing a dollar fifty hot dog—“

“Ha ha, Joel, you’re soooo funny.”

“I try.” He says, flippant, pouring coffee into another customer’s cup when they appear at the counter for a refill. He lifts the carafe and gestures to your almost-empty mug. “Want another?”

Your gaze is set on your wristwatch. It’s seven twenty-nine, and you need to be at work for nine thirty. Mentally you strive to figure out how much more time you can spend at the cafe, before you’re having to leave to get there on time.

“Is it maple hazel flavored?”

Joel tilts his head, glaring at you.

You swig the dregs of latte in your mug, and then push the polka-dot ceramic across to him. “Please.” You say, shyly.

Joel busies himself with customers, and general business-owner things for a few minutes while you finish your cinnamon roll and coffee. You can’t help watching him.

Because he’s great. He’s very caring—though extremely stern at times—and you know that if you’re having a bad day, Joel is only a two minute and thirteen second walk away.

He feels the same, too. Kind of. He knows that you’ll be sauntering into his shop at some point every day, and finds himself looking forward to seeing your wide-eyed gaze and larger-than-life smile.

And though he won’t admit it in so many words, Joel has a soft spot for you. It hasn’t always been apparent—he thought that you were utterly insufferable and obsessive when he first met you—but he can’t deny the fact that his life would be very dull without you.

Even if you do have a tendency to try to get underneath his skin.

“Are you dating, Joel?”

He rolls his eyes.

“What? It’s a very normal question to ask somebody that hasn’t been in a serious relationship for an entire twelve months.”

He pulls the cloth from his shoulder and wipes at his hands. “You and I both know that I ain’t got no interest in settlin’ down with anyone. Not yet, anyway.”

“You were willing to with Tess.” Pushing things a little, you say. You lift the coffee mug to your lips when Joel opens his mouth to chastise you, but he can’t.

He can’t because you’re right. He can’t because he wanted to, once upon a time. Before Tess walked out of his life—not long after you started frequenting his shop—he wanted it all. A wife, kids, the white picket fence that his parents had back in Austin when he was a kid.

But it doesn’t always work out that way, and Joel has learned to live with the idea that if it’s too good to be true, then it most likely is.

“I can set you up with someone—“

“Not happening.” He says. “Last time you sent me on a blind date, the girl asked me if I was into pegging.”

You giggle. “Well? Are you—“

Joel says your name, glaring pointedly.

“Sorry.” Instinctively, your lips are set into a straight line. “But I can totally do better, this time. I know this girl—she works at this law firm—and—“

“Not interested.”

“Okay.” You smile, tight-lipped. You lift your mug, striving for your third cup of coffee this morning.

Joel pours the liquid gold into the cup, before he’s telling you that he’s not going to be giving you another for fear of you ricocheting off of each wall in his place.

“You’ll turn into a cup ‘a coffee one day.”

Nodding—with a completely content smile—you say; “least I’ll be happy.”

“You’re always happy.” Joel mithers to himself, turning away. It’s one thing that he admires about you, though loathes at the same time.

Endless optimism and positivity is only something that he can long for, because he’s simply not capable of it. It baffles him how you are, especially when he’s—on occasion—so rude to you. So miserable, and cold, and completely undeserving of your friendship.

He likes that you’re so forgiving. That—even after he accidentally offended you last summer when making a comment about your then boyfriend—you can never hold a grudge, especially when it comes to him.

Because you both hold one another on a pedestal so high, neither can seem to do anything to tear themselves down. And Joel really enjoys your daily routine. That’s why he’s never not in the shop.

“You got any weekend plans?”

“Never do.”

You stretch out your arms—intertwining your fingers as you do to make them click—and offer a small smile when he cringes.

“You wanna catch a movie?” Shirking the idea that you have a date tonight—with a man who you really aren’t all that interested in, you’re just being nice—you propose.

Joel’s heart starts to beat at a tempo that’s noticeably quicker than usual. Not a lot, but it’s certainly faster.

“I think that the theatre downtown is showing the original Beetlejuice, on Saturday.”

He nods, approving. “I—uh—I’ll have to get someone to cover—“

“I’m sure you can ask your brother. Or maybe Maria?”

“I ‘spose.” Reluctant, he says. “But what about Michael? What if he wants a second date?”

“Well, his name is Marcus. And if he wants a second date—which I doubt he will—then he’ll just have to live with the fact that I have plans with a friend on Saturday night.”

He hopes that you can’t see him blush.

“Won’t it be weird?”

“Why?”

“We hardly speak outside of the shop.”

“God, Joel.” You throw your head back, laughing. “We’re the same people wherever we are. And we’re going to the movies—not a lot of talking takes place there, hon.”

His nostrils flare at your sarcasm, but mainly at the little pet name. Joel knows that you’re sweet—that you often use those terms of endearment when speaking with those that you care about—but it does something to him.

Something that he does not like.

“You can either come, or stay here and be miserable because you have no social life, or no girlfriend, or no other friends aside from me, your brother, and your brother’s wife—“

“Alright, fine.” Joel stops your miniature hate-train, and puts his hands against the counter. Your eyes zone in on the veins embellished within tan skin—how prominent they are when he’s fronting irritation—and let out a small sigh.

He’d be a lot more handsome if he smiled more, you think.

“So.” You paw at your purse, pulling it off the wood. “I’ll let you know what time the showing is, and we can make plans around that.”

Joel rounds the island and follows you as you pad toward the door, veritably sweating. “Plans?” He asks. “You never said nothin’ ‘bout plans. I thought we were just gonna catch a movie?”

“We are.” You tell him. “But we need to buy snacks, and grab dinner before we go—“

“Now you’re just describing a date.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m describing hanging out with a friend, Joel.”

“A friend?”

“An acquaintance…?” Testing the waters, you ask. Your eyes squint a bit, awaiting his retort.

But he just smiles.

“A friend.”

You smile back. Bigger.

“Perfect.” Your purse is slinging over your shoulder, and you pull your jacket to close so that the darned loops don’t get stuck on the door handle. Again. “I can’t wait.”

“It’ll be…nice.”

“Jeez, Joel. At least try to sound enthused.”

His hands shoot up in defense. “I am. Just have a hard time showin’ it.”

Your head nods. “I know. I’m only kidding. It’s nobody’s fault that you’re the human equivalent of Oscar The Grouch—“

“Alright, get out.” He holds open the door for you, smiling tight-lipped as he watches you leave. “Enjoy your meeting. And your lunch. And your date.”

You chuckle, thanking him with another bright smile.

“See you in the morning, Joel.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You step onto the sidewalk—that’s festooned with red and orange leaves as the tree above starts to shed its skin—turning to wave at him. “See ‘ya, kiddo.”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Dustin gets Steve and Eddie to hang out before Vecna, but Steve doesn't want to admit any jealousy issues or that he actually likes Eddie, so like Lorelai from Gilmore Girls calling Luke 'Duke', he starts called Eddie 'Teddy.' They're hanging out at Steve's house when Eddie hands him something.

Steve: Thanks, Teddy.

Dustin: His name is Eddie.

Steve: That's what I just said.

Dustin: No, you didn't.

Steve: Pretty sure I did.

Dustin: No. You did not.

Steve: What did you think I said?

Dustin: Teddy.

Steve: Dude, his name is Eddie. Shouldn't you know his name by now?

Eddie: *being helpful* I can't believe after all this time, you still don't know my name, Henderson.

Dustin: He's the one who called you Teddy!

Eddie: Except you were the one to call me to hang out, and my name is Eddie. Jeeze.

Dustin: STEVE!

Steve: Hey, at least he knows my name.

Eddie sneezed, and Steve hands him a tissue.

Eddie: Thanks, Sleeve.

Dustin: His name is Steve!

Eddie: I know that. What did you think I said?

Dustin: SLEEVE!

Eddie: Dude, his name is Steve.

And they quickly bonded over one of the things they loved doing together: messing with Dustin. Dustin, of course, regretted it for the rest of time.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟽𝚔 || 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐓

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Romeo and Juliet had nothing on you and Jess Mariano.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Jess Mariano x reader

The small bell above the diner door jingled, signaling your arrival at Luke’s Diner. As you stepped inside, you caught sight of Jess Mariano slouched in his usual booth, a dog-eared book in his hands. His dark eyes flicked up just briefly from the pages before returning to whatever literary masterpiece he was engrossed in.

You and Jess had a thing. Well, not officially. Not that anyone was thrilled about the prospect of it becoming official, except maybe you. You were supposed to be the sweet, well-liked girl in town—the one who got along with everyone, including Rory Gilmore, who always threw daggers your way every time you were caught within a ten-foot radius of Jess.

Lorelai wasn’t any better. She’d never been particularly subtle, and her dramatic sighs whenever she spotted you two talking were enough to fill a whole novel themselves. And Luke? Well, Luke had his usual I’m going to throttle my nephew expression on his face.

It wasn’t like Jess was helping to ease anyone’s concerns, either. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the chaos. He lived for the thrill of rebellion, the undercurrent of defiance. And you? Well, you were getting a kick out of it, too.

You slid into the booth opposite him, the vinyl squeaking under your jeans as you gave him a once-over. “Hey, Romeo,” you said, leaning forward. “What tragic tale of doomed love are we reading today?”

Jess’s lips quirked up, his eyes still on the page. “Wuthering Heights,” he said dryly. “You know, to set the mood for our inevitable downfall.”

You grinned. “How fitting. Are we at the part where Heathcliff wrecks everything?”

Jess finally looked up, his gaze meeting yours. “Depends. Have you made up your mind to ruin my life yet?”

“Who says you’re not the one ruining mine?” you teased back, earning yourself a full smirk from him. His hand casually turned the page of the book, but his attention was clearly focused on you now.

Before either of you could continue, the door opened again, and in strolled Rory and Lorelai. Instinctively, you straightened, feeling the weight of their disapproval from across the room. They exchanged knowing looks, whispering between themselves, and Lorelai’s exasperated sigh wasn’t even the least bit subtle.

Jess rolled his eyes, leaning back in the booth. “Well, if it isn’t the Montagues.”

You chuckled softly under your breath. “Ignore them.”

“Hard to, when they’re so invested in our tragic demise.”

“Tragic?” You arched an eyebrow at him. “A bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

He shrugged, his smirk growing. “Just quoting the classics. We are in a small town where everyone has an opinion, and they all seem to hate me. Shakespeare would’ve had a field day with this.”

“Oh, totally. You as Romeo, me as Juliet, and the entire town as the bloodthirsty Capulets.”

Jess’s gaze darkened slightly, his tone playful but serious beneath it. “You know how that ends, right? Double suicide, lots of crying, poetic last words.”

“Relax,” you said, laughing softly. “No one’s drinking poison or stabbing themselves here. We’re more of a modern adaptation. Happy endings.”

“If you say so, Cherry,” Jess said, leaning forward slightly, his voice a low murmur. The nickname slipped off his tongue with a casual ease that made your heart skip a beat. It had started as a joke, something to poke fun at your fondness for cherry-flavored candies. Now, it felt like a secret only the two of you shared, a reminder that he saw you differently from how everyone else did.

You smiled at him, leaning your chin on your hand. “I do say so, Romeo.”

“Speaking of star-crossed lovers,” he continued, “you planning on telling the entire town about us?”

“What about us?” you grinned, glancing around. “Besides, they’ve already made up their minds.”

“Of course they have,” Jess said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s Stars Hollow. They hate me.”

“Not everyone hates you.”

“Really?” He gave you a sceptical look. “Name one person.”

“Michel doesn’t hate you,” you said, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

“Michel doesn’t care about anyone.”

“Exactly.” You smirked. “I talk to him about you all the time.”

Jess’s eyes lit up with intrigue. “You talk about me to Michel?”

“In French,” you replied nonchalantly, picking at the edge of your napkin. “It’s our little secret. So, even if the whole town thinks you’re the worst, Michel remains blissfully indifferent.”

“Lucky me,” Jess muttered, though his eyes gleamed with amusement. “So, what do you tell him? How much you adore me? How I’m your Romeo, destined to sweep you off your feet?”

You shrugged, playing coy. “Maybe.”

“I knew it,” he said with a grin, leaning in closer. “You’ve got it bad for me, don’t you?”

Before you could respond, Luke approached the table, wiping his hands on his apron and glaring down at Jess. “You bothering her?”

“Not at all,” Jess said smoothly, leaning back. “We’re just discussing the great literary works.”

“Right,” Luke deadpanned, clearly not buying it. “Well, whatever you’re discussing, don’t get any ideas.”

Jess raised his hands in mock surrender. “No ideas here, Uncle Luke. Just harmless banter.”

Luke shot you a look that said I know exactly what’s going on before walking away, mumbling something about young people and bad influences.

You turned back to Jess, who was watching you with that infuriatingly smug expression.

“You know,” you said, picking up the book in front of him and flipping through the pages. “For all your talk of tragedy, I think we’re more of a comedy.”

“Comedy?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re sure about that?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded, meeting his gaze. “Everyone’s making a fuss, we’re keeping secrets, and at the end of the day, it all works out.”

“Is that so?” Jess tilted his head, his voice dropping slightly. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because,” you said, your smile softening as you looked at him, “no one dies in our story.”

Jess looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable before he finally chuckled softly, his defences melting ever so slightly. “Alright, Cherry. If you say so.”

“I do.” You leaned forward, mirroring his earlier movement. “Now, where were we?”

Jess smirked. “Oh, I think you know.”

Stars Hollow had never been one for keeping secrets. Gossip moved faster than a Gilmore Girl with coffee, and somehow, before you'd even realized it, everyone knew that something was going on between you and Jess Mariano. Well, everyone except you and Jess, apparently.

You leaned against the counter at the Dragonfly Inn, flipping through the latest book you had been unable to put down, your mind still half in the world of fictional characters and tragic romances. Michel was at his desk, typing with exaggerated annoyance.

“Il est agaçant (He is annoying),” you said in a hushed tone, eyes still glued to your book.

Michel barely looked up. “I assume you’re talking about the delinquent,” he replied, his accent as sharp as ever.

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. “Yes, of course. Who else?”

“I don’t get it,” you had said to Michel one afternoon as you sat at the reception desk. “Why is everyone so against him? They don’t even know him.”

Michel had waved a hand, unimpressed. “Parce qu’ils sont tous idiots." (Because they are all idiots.)

The bell above the door chimed, and you looked up to see Jess walk in, his usual smirk firmly in place.

“Hey, Cherry,” Jess greeted you, leaning against the counter casually.

You raised an eyebrow, fighting the smile that threatened to break free. “Mon cher Roméo (My dear Romeo),” you replied playfully.

Jess chuckled, glancing around the empty lobby. “Don’t tell me Lorelai or Rory have been by to lecture you again?”

“Oh, they have,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Apparently, I’m making a huge mistake.”

Jess shrugged, not offended but rather amused by the whole town’s reaction to him. “What can I say? I’m Stars Hollow’s favorite villain.”

“Maybe it’s time for a redemption arc,” you teased, pushing the book you were reading across the counter towards him.

He picked it up, scanning the title with mild interest. “Pride and Prejudice? Not exactly light reading.”

“Well, I have to keep up with someone,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You know, the town’s resident bad boy with impeccable taste in literature.”

Jess smirked. “Impeccable, huh? High praise, Juliet.”

You rolled your eyes. “I just don’t get why everyone’s so obsessed with what we’re doing. It’s not like we’re… I don’t know.”

“In love?” Jess finished for you, his tone playful but carrying a hint of something more.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, that.”

Jess’s gaze softened for a moment, and the teasing smirk fell from his lips, replaced by something more serious. “Maybe they’re just jealous they’re not living in their own Shakespearean tragedy,” he said, his voice lower now.

You scoffed, trying to brush off the intensity of the moment. “A tragedy? Please. You and I both know we’re way too smart to fall into that trap.”

He leaned closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Is that what you think, Cherry? That we’re too smart to end up like Romeo and Juliet?”

The reference wasn’t lost on you. It never was. Jess had this way of weaving literature into every conversation, turning something mundane into something more. And you knew what he was doing, teasing you, pushing boundaries.

You bit your lip, leaning in just a fraction closer. “I mean, I do prefer happy endings.”

Jess’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and then he leaned back, the playful smirk returning to his lips. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Before you could say anything else, the door swung open again, and Lorelai walked in, her eyes immediately narrowing when she saw Jess.

“Oh, great,” she muttered. “Romeo and Juliet. How fitting.”

You groaned inwardly. “Lorelai…”

But she wasn’t listening. She marched over, standing between you and Jess, arms crossed. “Jess, don’t you have a book to brood over somewhere else? Preferably far away?”

Jess just raised his eyebrows, completely unfazed. “Nice to see you too, Lorelai.”

“Yeah, well, the feeling isn’t mutual,” Lorelai shot back, turning to you. “Seriously, you need to be careful with him.”

Jess glanced at you, and for a moment, there was something unspoken in his eyes—something that made your heart race. You knew he wasn’t going to push back against Lorelai, not right now. Instead, he gave you one last lingering look before turning to leave.

“See you later, Cherry,” he said softly, as he walked out the door.

Lorelai groaned once he was gone, turning back to you. “I really don’t get it. What do you see in him?”

You didn’t answer right away, your mind still on the way Jess had looked at you, the way your heart had skipped a beat when he called you Juliet. Maybe you were falling for him. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Je ne sais pas, (I don't know)” you muttered under your breath, catching Michel’s amused smirk from behind the desk.

But deep down, you knew.

Romeo and Juliet had nothing on you and Jess Mariano.

[fanficsformyfaves]

The Town Grouch

Luke Danes x Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, Enemies To Lovers Trope, Unprotected Sex (Wrap it up, this is fiction, you are not!), Oral Sex (R Receiving)

PREFACE: Reader's the usually cheery neighbor that gets into a screaming match with Luke over him being exceptionally rude to her one morning

A/N: Possibly the daddiest of all my fictional crushes

I was out grabbing my mail, when I cross paths with none other than 'The Town Grouch', Luke Danes, who was throwing his trash, whilst kicking the receptacle.

"What'd the can ever do to you?", I chuckled.

Locking up my mailbox.

"Don't start with me, (Y/L/N)"

"Hey"

"I don't have time for your hounding today"

"I was not 'hounding'. I simply asked what grudge you had against the innocent trashcan"

"How do you know it's innocent?"

"It's an inanimate object with no limbs to commit any sinister crimes with"

"Yeah yeah yeah, defend the trash against me"

"What is with you today?!"

"What the hell are those?!", he yelled,

Gesturing at the new daisy pots that decorated the outside of his diner.

"Daisies, what about 'em?"

"I know what they are, genius!", he yelled,

"Luke-"

"I'm asking; Why are they there?! They're turning the outside of my diner into an eyesore!"

"The daises are an eyesore element now?"

"Yes!"

"Then why are you yelling at me for?!"

"Oh, come on, you're the only person I know who would do this besides Lorelai and she's out of town with Rory"

"Well, yeah I did do this, but I don't get why you're so wound up about it!"

"I like my diner the way it is! Inside and Out! How my dad left it!"

"It was literally a hardware store!"

"That's besides the point! It was my dad and I decide what goes!"

"Alright, I'm sorry! I just thought it would be a nice gesture-"

"Save it", he cuts off.

Storming back towards the diner's door.

"Luke!", I yelled after him.

Once I realized he wasn't stopping, I ran after him.

"Luke!"

"Jess, you're in charge for the rest of the day"

"But-"

"No buts!", he screamed.

I sped walked past all the shocked tables, calling out for him.

"Luke, I'm not through with you!", I shout.

Running up the stairs behind him.

"I am", he grumbled.

Just as he was about to unlock his door, I yelled after him for a final time.

"Listen, you stubborn asshole!"

His head snaps back at my direction.

"What did you just call me?", he questioned.

Making his way back to me.

"You heard me! A stubborn asshole for acting like one!"

"Now, you listen to me-"

"NO! YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME!", I poke his shoulder.

Catching him off guard.

He'd never seen me so heated before as I had a certain reputation for being level-headed and easy going.

"I wanted to do something nice for you since I thought we were friends, but I guess we aren't!"

"Yeah, we aren't"

"Obviously not cause if we were, I'd get a simple thank you or a smile or nod or whatever people like you, who think they're above socializing, do! Sorry for thinking anything more of 'The Town Grouch'!"

"Town Grouch, huh?", he challenged,

"Yes, 'The Town Grouch'! The one everyone warned me about when I first moved here, but of course, I decided to give you a chance cause I liked you, but God, turns out they were right! You're just this mean old bitter-"

I was suddenly cut off by Luke grabbing me by the waist and crashing his lips against mine.

In what felt like a blink of an eye, all my anger melted away and I found my arms wrapping themselves around his neck. I went from a raging whirlwind to a melting puddle in his grasp.

The kiss was...good, which was the craziest part of all of this.

Eventually I pulled away and all I could see where his once baby blue eyes turn dark. He then throws me around his waist, carrying me into his apartment, before using my body to slam the door shut. I threw my head back at the impact giving him access to my neck, which he proceeded to mark with several hickeys.

"You are insufferable", he mumbled against my skin.

Grinding into my clothed core.

"Right back at you", I sighed.

Pushing off the stupid cap he always sports.

He pulls my shirt over my head and quickly unhooks my bra, leaving my buds to harden against the cold winter draft.

"But you're worth the hassle", he sighs.

Diving between my breasts, before giving each one equal amounts of attention with his tongue. I was growing wetter with each passing second.

We eventually make it to his bed, where he threw me down. I go to take my skirt off, when he grabs my wrists to stop me.

"Skirt stays on", he demanded.

Taking my underwear off instead.

He takes a good look at my drenched slit and gets up, as I undo his belt, pulling his jeans down along with his boxers. His aching member now standing at full attention.

He strips off his shirt and climbs back on top of me, kissing his way up as he did till our mouths met once more. He reaches down for his cock, spreading my slick, before thrusting into me one go, ripping a scream out of me.

His hand then quickly goes over my mouth.

"There's a room full of people downstairs. Wouldn't want them to know what we're up to, do we?", he chuckled over his groans.

Beginning to pick up a rhythm with his hips. As if the bed scraping against the floor from the sheer force wasn't much of a giveaway already.

Maybe it was the size difference, but I didn't expect him to be this big. It felt like I was being split apart, but in the most delicious way.

"Fuck, don't stop!", I whined,

Earning a chuckle from Luke.

"Wasn't planning on it, sweetheart"

His pace picks up and with each ram, his tip hit my g-spot repeatedly, bringing me closer and closer to my climax. I watch as his free arm snakes under my body to help him pound into me even harder and faster.

If you had told me three years ago that I'd be in this position right now, no pun intended, I would've called you crazy, psychotic even, but in this moment, anyone else's opinion couldn't have been further from my mind, as it was currently being overrun with the blinding pleasure that was setting my skin on fire.

I knew I didn't have long and his hand reaching down to rub my sensitive bundle nerves didn't help.

"You're close, I can feel it. Do it,", he moaned against my tear stained cheeks.

And with that final sentence, I came completely undone, screaming out into the air and surely disturbing any paying customers downstairs.

Not too long after, his rhythm falters and he comes, painting my insides with a roaring groan against my neck. He then drops atop me, grounding me from the overwhelming high.

"That was-"

"Yeah", I answered,

"We just-"

"Mhm"

He then pulls out, descending lower to lick up the mess we made. I whine, grasping at his hair.

After thoroughly eating me out, he scoops me into his arms, laying me on his chest. The silence, though wildly contrasting from our previous performance, was actually quite...nice. Almost sweet and familiar.

"I'm sorry about getting so worked up"

"Don't be. I should've asked"

"Still, it was unfair. You were just trying to help and I was being a stubborn asshole"

"Gasp! He admits defeat!", I quipped,

"Don't push it"

"Okay", I laughed,

"Well, if getting you worked up lands us right back here, maybe I should piss you off more often"

He shrugs.

"Not a bad place to be, I guess", he smiled.

Till this point, I'd never seen him smile.

[mystic-writings]

sneak out | jess mariano

PAIRING — jess mariano x fem!gilmore!reader SUMMARY — minutes into your mother’s dinner party, jess suggests you sneak out through your bedroom window - and you can’t help but agree WARNINGS — fluff, jess and reader being ‘troubled’ teens, a bit of angst, reader venting WORD COUNT — 2,322 NOTES — the idea of lorelai having a teen that was just like her is so appealing to me idk why - also would you believe me if i told you i listened to yung gravy while writing the majority of this fic

masterlist | navigation

You weren’t sure which was worse - the dinner your mother was hosting, or the idea that you now had to put up with a whole night of Luke’s strange nephew, whom you’d never met before.

Of course, you loved your family to pieces, and you loved Sookie and Jackson; hell, sometimes you looked at Luke as more of a father than you did your actual dad, but having everyone together for what you knew would be at least a three course meal, under one roof, with Luke’s mysterious nephew from New York, just felt draining.

So, to preserve what little social battery you had left for the day, you decided to spend the time between school and dinner in your room upstairs with a good book and a cd playing from the player that sat on your dresser at a low volume. You had to change the cd twice, first from one of your mothers Bangles cds to a Smiths one, but just as you were enjoying the beginning of David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust album (and nearly finishing up your book), did you hear the clanging of pots and pans from downstairs, as well as Sookie and Jackson’s lighthearted bickering.

You managed to bury yourself back into your book, one leg crossed loosely over the other outstretched one as you half-sat, half-laid on your bed, being mindful of your shoes so as to not get any dirt on your covers.

From downstairs, Jess was wandering around the Gilmore home as everyone else did whatever they were doing in the kitchen, internally monologuing and half-mocking their decor. He’d met Rory already, and she seemed like a nice enough girl. Enjoyed books. But he had yet to meet the third and final Gilmore girl, who so far had only been mentioned. However, as Jess scanned the various photographs on the mantle, he could hear the faint guitar of Suffragette City emanating from somewhere upstairs.

After peeking down the hallway to make sure no one was watching, Jess smirked and snuck up the stairs, into what was surely off-limits territory for someone like him. Still, he took the stairs two at a time and stealthily, managing to avoid all the places that would creak in a house like this one, despite never stepping foot inside beforehand. He followed the music down the hall, past some more paintings and pictures, to another bedroom. The door was open, and he was able to take a look inside. Posters covered most of the wall, leaving little space to show off the paint beneath them. Bookshelves occupied the wall right beside the door, and similarly to Rory’s room, they looked stuffed to the brim with books.

On the bed, facing him, was the person he assumed to be the final Gilmore girl - Rory’s twin sister. He watched intently, scanning every feature of your focused face as you scanned the final pages of the book you were reading. How your brow furrowed, eyes locked on the ink before you. The way the foot that hung off the edge of the bed was moving to the beat of the song.

Once Jess had decided that he’d been watching you long enough to constitute stalking, and how that was probably extremely creepy, he nudged the door open with a creak and stepped inside, clearing his throat and pulling his lips into a slight smirk. “Hey there, Ziggy.”

At first, you thought that your mother was finally calling you down to dinner, until you heard the unusually male - and entirely unfamiliar - voice come from the body in your doorway. Tucking a receipt into your book to mark your place, you glared over at the boy standing in your room with his hands behind his back, smugness rolling off of him in waves as he admired your room.

“You’re Jess, aren’t you.” Your flat tone seemed to amuse him.

“How nice, you already know my name. I’m flattered.”

You watched him as he walked around your room, over to the window where your desk was, trying to figure him out as he peeled back your curtains. “It’s impossible to not know someone’s name in this town, even someone who’s only been here for 28 hours.”

He chuckled. “Nice one, Ziggy. Now tell me, why aren’t you downstairs with the rest of the freakshow? I mean, they are your family, after all, aren’t they?”

You pretended to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. “Sorry to break it to you, Mariano, but I’ve been banned from the freakshow. Apparently having apathy toward any sort of Gilmore humour is forbidden, and they’ve locked me away forever.”

“Aw, so sorry to hear that.” Jess mocked, placing a hand over his heart with an exaggerated pout. “I can’t believe they shunned such a ray of sunshine.” He smirked at your rolled eyes. “No, really, you must be a real treat at parties.”

“Quit it, Mariano. Is there a reason you came up here or did you just want to cause enough trouble to get kicked out of our beloved Stars Hollow? Because if so, you came to the right girl.”

Jess’ brow quirked. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you heaved a dramatic sigh, slipping off your bed to walk over to Jess. “But it’s like… 9pm on a Wednesday. In Stars Hollow. Even if I wanted to cause trouble, and I don’t, because I did enough of that at school today, there’s nothing to do. Everyone’s asleep, and I’m pretty sure our 24-hour mini-mart closed like, half an hour ago.”

Now it was Jess’ turn to roll his eyes. “Your sister said that already. Is there seriously nothing to do here?”

“Nope.” You shrugged, just as a thought came to mind. “Well… there is one thing…” Jess’ eyebrows raised at the prospect of having something fun to do, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not anything revolutionary, you know.”

“Still, give me something, anything, to get us out of here, Ziggy. I’m begging you. I’m being suffocated by the stale air of suburban life.”

You nodded, tapping your fingers on your thigh. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But you gotta do one thing for me.”

“What is it? I’ll do anything, I swear.”

“Stop calling me Ziggy.” You said. “It’s a stupid nickname, and although I admire the fact that you listen to David Bowie enough to come up with a nickname like that one, I hate it. Call me by my actual name.”

“Well I would, if I knew it.”

“My mother never told you my name?” You asked with a raised brow. “She never shuts up about me and Rory, I’m surprised you never caught it.”

“Apparently, I didn’t. It seems she likes talking about Rory more.” Jess shrugged. “At least, around me she does.” He barely caught the slight sag of your shoulders, the drop in your demeanour, before you picked it back up and smiled.

“Well, Jess. I’m Y/n. Y/n Gilmore.” After a pause, you looked around and snagged a sweater from the chair in the corner of your room. “Now, if you’ll follow me, let’s go have as much fun as we’re able to in Stars Hollow at night.”

Jess waited impatiently behind you as you unlatched the window by your desk and pushed it up, slipping through and holding it open for him. As he clamoured out, you grabbed the rock underneath the window and placed it on the windowsill, lowering the window so you’d still be able to get back in later.

You could still hear the tail end of the album playing as Jess looked around.

“How are we supposed to get down?”

“The trellis, obviously.” You said, carefully making your way across the porch’s roof to the trellis right next to the kitchen window. “Just don’t make much noise, this thing is right next to the kitchen’s window and if we get caught we’re screwed. Follow my lead, and run when you hit the ground, got it?”

“Got it.”

Scaling down the trellis was basically second nature to you, but you made sure to look up every once in a while to make sure Jess was doing okay. He seemed to be, which comforted you somehow. You waited at the bottom for him, making sure to stay out of view of the window to the kitchen and the edge of the porch, which were on either side of the trellis, and could possibly get both you and Jess grounded.

When he landed, he looked at you, and a dish clattered in the kitchen. You both snapped to the window, then back to each other. On instinct, you took his hand and ran toward the woods.

“Where the hell are we going?!” Jess whisper-shouted.

“Relax!” You whisper-shouted back, slowing to a stop as soon as you were hidden in the tree line. “We’re not going into the woods, dumbass. What do you think would’ve happened if we waltzed out in the open in front of the living room window?”

Jess only sighed and nodded, letting go of your hand. He let you lead him through the trees, keeping the light of the house close to you, walking around the garage and past all the cars, waiting until Babette’s house was out of sight until you stepped back onto the road.

The walk was calm and quiet, crickets and the breeze occupying you instead of chatter. After a while, when you were beginning to reach the town centre, Jess spoke up. “So, what now?”

You shrugged. “Not sure. Usually I head to the lake, bring a book, or a cd player and some headphones. I don’t normally bring people with me, you know?”

Jess nodded, lips slightly pursed. The walk continued through the town, passing by shop after shop, all of them closed for the night. You had to admit, you weren’t used to taking walks like these, out in the open. Normally you’d find whichever path kept you out of the possible sight of the townspeople, a habit you developed after Taylor snitched on you to your mother after he caught you walking to the lake by the Inn when you were 12. Still, it was nice, and even if you were caught, you somehow didn’t seem to mind it.

As the buildings were fading again and you knew you were approaching the lake, you checked your watch. 9:27pm. You sighed, and Jess looked at you. Dropping your arm, you shook your head. “Almost 9:30. They definitely have to know something’s up at home. Probably sending out a search party by now.” You told him, before shrugging. “Or, you know, miraculously, they forgot we existed and are eating Sookie’s delicious no-allergen, fourteen course meal as we speak.”

Jess scoffed. “Yeah, right. Luke might not care that much, but Lorelai? She seems like the world’s most protective parent.”

“She is.” You confirmed, sitting on your usual bench, eyes following Jess as he sat next to you. “Trust me, I love her to death, but it gets annoying sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, at least you have a protective mom.” Jess’ hands gripped the edge of the bench, his body hunched forward, making him look small, ready to run at a moment’s notice. “Mine decided I wasn’t worth the effort. Shipped me off to this… circus show without so much as a ‘sayonara, kid.’ You’re lucky.”

You frowned. Everyone knew within the hour of him arriving in Stars Hollow that Jess was a troubled kid, but even troubled kids deserved parents that cared. He was right, though, you were lucky. It just didn’t feel like it.

“I know I’m lucky, Jess, but it’s not all rainbows for me, you know.”

“Oh yeah? How?” He scoffed. “You have the perfect life, Y/n. A mom that cares, a great twin sister - hell, even Luke sings your praises.”

“Luke sings?”

Jess rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s not like that all the time, Jess.” You sighed. “My ‘great’ twin sister is, apparently, so great that she has all eyes on her at all times. My grandparents are always so proud of her for being so smart and planning this amazing, expensive, studious future - they’re planning on funding it, too, from the sounds of things. I just want to live, you know?” You kicked a rock with your shoe, avoiding Jess’ concerned gaze.

“And my mother seems more concerned about her wellbeing than mine, closer to her than to me. But somehow she wonders why I’m the troubled one. I mean, I act out, I barely go to that stupid prep school because it’s so suffocating, and I got an eyebrow piercing without permission instead of taking a calculus test last month, which I’m just getting out of that punishment. Everyone’s so focused on Rory and how seemingly great she is, I don’t even remember the last time I was appreciated for anything. And don’t even get me started on my dad.”

“Sounds like these freaks don’t know a good person when they see one.” Jess told you. “You seem chill. Adventurous, too. But just because you aren’t appreciated doesn’t mean you aren’t good enough.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “You too, Jess.” The world quieted around you for a moment, stars shining off the rippling waters of the lake. “But we don’t need to be good enough for them. Just good enough for us.”

He smiled, nodding once at you. Again, you appreciated the silence with him, watching the water or the sky. It wouldn’t be long until Luke and your mother found you both, you with your head on his shoulder and one knee bent to your chest, laughing quietly at a joke he told as you continued to get to know one another. But that was later. For now, you simply sat and watched the water, wishing the moment could last for the rest of your lives.

permanent taglist: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @queen-asteria04 @heliads

jess mariano taglist: open!

taglist form is in my navigation!

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Bickering (lovingly)

regulus black x potter!reader

note: an edit of luke and lorelai cane on my fyp and they are so reggie x potter!reader coded!!

word count: 1.3 k

warnings: eating, lightest black brother angst

Regulus made his way up the stairs to the Gryffindor dorms in search of his bag that his darling girlfriends had been using since her bag was being used for some special prank. But the weekend was up and Regulus needed his bag back for classes tomorrow,

He knocked on the door, Y/n had told him there was no need, but it was a habit instilled into him from an infant so he still did, James opened the door with a cheerful look which dropped when he noticed who was there, “Ugh, Y/n, your boyfriend’s here!”

The door was opened wider for him, he saw his brother and his boyfriend on a bed, Peter on his, James once again getting comfortable at the desk and Y/n coming out of the bathroom.

“Hey, hun.” “Hi. Do you have my bag?” Regulus was usually short with his words around other people, he only got really chatty alone with her, then she couldn’t get him to shut up sometimes; not that she ever wanted to.

“..Yeah, it’s here, but I was gonna ask to use it for a couple more days…” “No, I need it. You have your own bag” “It’s being used for prank supplies.”

She handed the bag over, all her things still in it when Regulus looked.

“Could you take your stuff out, love?”

“I have nowhere to put them, that’s why I need the bag.” “But I need you to take your stuff out because it’s my bag and I need it.”

“But I don’t have a bag for my books tomorrow.”

“You have your own bag.”

“It’s being used for prank supplies, that’s why I asked for a couple more days..”

“But I need my bag.”

“But I don’t have a bag for my books tomorrow.”

“You have your own bag.”

“It’s being used for prank supplies, that’s why I asked for a couple more days..”

“We’ve been here before.”

“I recognise that tree.”

“Good! Why don’t you shut up now!”

-

Sat across from each other on the sofa, Y/n had been waiting weeks for a moment to watch a movie alone with Regulus, her family got a muggle TV a couple years ago after Remus explained it to her dad and he said they ‘needed’ it.

What they were watching was one of her favourites and she loved watching movies with people that have never seen them, before something big she would sneak a look at Regulus to catch his reaction.

“Stop doing that.” He sat with his arms crossed, her legs rested over his lap under their blanket.

“Shh! No talking.” That made him roll his eyes, lovingly of course, it was always lovingly.

“Then stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Looking at me.”

“What? I can’t just look at you? Admire my very very pretty boyfriend?”

“Not during movies.” Y/n gasped and her jaw dropped comically.

-

It was Christmas, everyone decided to stay at Hogwarts for their last year (plus Regulus)

Owls came flying down the table with letters between their talons, it was about a week before Christmas day so not many letters came, but funnily enough Regulus got one, at first Y/b was worried but seeing the small smile on his face she knew it was nothing bad. They sat next to each other at the gryffindor table along with the marauders.

“Guess where I got a letter from.” “God?”

He didn’t even flinch at her dry comments anymore.

“London…” He said, giving a hint, naïvely assuming she would guess.

“God lives in London?!”

“Your mother lives in London.”

“My mother is God! Mmm so God is a woman.. And my mom, that is so cool! This will make asking for favours so much easier.”

“Why do I even try with you… Your mother asked me if I-”

-

Reaching for the syrup and putting it back after drowning her waffle, Y/n gets back to what she was complaining about.

“I’m sick, I have a cold, I can’t go to classes today.”

Only after finish chewing his eggs does Regulus reply to his girlfriend, “Do you know what would help get rid of a cold?” “You cuddling me all day?”

“Eww!” “I’m eating here, goldie!”

“A good immune system. Do you know how you get a good immune system?”

“Endless vague questioning from one’s boyfriend first thing in the morning?”

“From not eating crap for breakfast. Would it kill you to eat a protein?”

“Remember when you hated me? That was fun wasn’t it?”

-

A lazy sunday was one of Y/n’s favourite moments to spend with Regulus, the boys would be off doing something, and the couple had all day together.

At the moment the two were reading ‘Emma’ together, with Y/n reading aloud and as always Regulus listened to every word to come from her mouth.

“What’d you think?” Between each chapter they would talk about their thoughts, Y/n is so thankful for a boyfriend who likes books just as much as her.

“I think that the bump on your nose is my favourite feature of yours.” He traced her nose bridge with his delicate ring finger.

From a young age Y/n hated her nose, her best friend growing up was the perfect cookie cutter ideal, with blonde hair and blue eyes and a little button nose. She didn’t have any of those things, she was not the standard.

Yet Regulus never failed to make her feel loved, like she was the most gorgeous girl and Regulus is lucky for even a second of her time, in his own words.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, darling.”

-

“Why’re you so grumpy?”

Regulus and Y/n had agreed to meet at the muggle library in Hogsmeade so when Regulus saw his girlfriend angrily stomping out of the store empty handed he knew something was up, she never left the library empty handed. She was looking at the librarian through the window in what she thought was a discreet fashion.

“I’ve been exiled. For what feels like an eternity.”

“How long are you suspended from your book borrowing activities?”

“A month.”

“C’mon, love, that’s not too long,”

“Four Hogsmeade trips I cannot take books home. And for that he must die!”

“You’re not going to kill the librarian.”

“Why not?”

“It’s free library card day, everyone will be livid with you.”

-

It was James and Y/n’s birthday, she got up before James of course but not before her parents and Regulus who were all gathered in the kitchen.

The girl sleepily walked in leaning on her boyfriend to support herself, when she finally opened her eyes she saw a display of oreos spelling out ‘happy birthday James and Y/n!’

“Awww mom! This is so cute! Thank you!”

“Hold on, how’d you know it was your mother's work and not mine or Regulus’?”

“Because only mom would take the time.”

After the thank yous, Monty went back into his office and Effie went to set the dining table. Y/n got up on the bar stool and sat next to the boy, taking a cookie to eat, only to get up and go to the pantry to get the box and replace the cookie she ate on the table.

“What did you just do?”

“What?”

“You put the cookie down.”

“Yeah.”

“You ate the cookie then you took a cookie out of the box and put it down where the cookie you just ate was.” She made little actions as if retracing her steps as the black-haired boy went on.

“Yeah!”

“Well.. That’s nuts.”

“My mom made this for me, I don't want to ruin it, and not before James can see it.”

“Then why eat the cookie?”

“Because I wanted an oreo.”

“Then why didn't you just eat out of the box?”

“Because this one was close and the box was all the way in the cabinet.”

“But you had to go into the cabinet to get the box to replace the cookie you ate.”

“So?”

“So that’s nuts.”

~taglist~

[population9973]

family line - luke danes

luke danes x fem!reader

summary: things get a little complicated when your boyfriends nephew comes to stay with him

warnings: smoking, family trouble, a bit of angst, mention of cheating but it isn’t happening?, language, readers parents are 💀

word count: 3k (this was supposed to be short)

as you woke up in bed, you rolled over to find luke’s side of the bed empty, and squinted at the clock on his nightstand; you’d slept in.

“oh crap,” you hurried to get dressed and presentable before heading downstairs to work. as you walked in, you noticed luke was on the phone, and he didn’t sound too happy with whoever he was talking to. lorelai was behind the counter grabbing donuts and putting them in a bag, while a group of boy scouts waited in line.

“okay fine,” he said loudly. “do what you want- make the arrangements. now i’m working, we’ll finish this later!” he hung up the phone with a clang.

“is everything okay?” lorelai asked, and you gave luke a worried look as you tied an apron around your waist.

“do either of you have a sister?” he asked.

“uhm, no.”

“no,” you agreed. in the six months you had been with luke, family had never really come up as a topic of dicussion; and that was more than okay with you.

“i do!” one of the boy scouts piped up.

“you have my sympathies,” luke sighed, and disappeared into the back.

“here, i’ll ring you through,” you offered to lorelai, who happily cut in front of the line.

“do you know what that was all about?” she asked, and you shook your head.

“no idea,” you answered honestly, telling her the total for the donuts as rory pestered her to hurry up.

after helping the boy scouts order and pay for their food, you went to find luke, who was sitting in the storage room organizing cans on the shelf.

“hey, sorry i was late,” you said softy.

“that’s okay, it was quiet this morning. i thought i’d let you sleep in,” he replied.

“when is it your turn to sleep in?” you teased.

“never.”

“that’s what i thought,” you sighed. “i take it that wasn’t a customer calling to place an order?”

“no,” he sighed. “it was my sister. her son - jess, my nephew is gonna stay with me for a while.”

“is your sister okay?”

“define okay,” he replied, and you gave him a look. “nothing happened to her, she just can’t control him anymore. he’s getting into trouble and she’s given up taking care of him, so she’s sending him here.”

“i see,” you nodded.

“you’re mad i didn’t ask you,” he suggested, and you shook your head.

“no, luke of course not. he’s your family, and it’s your apartment not mine,” you disagreed. “i think it’s nice that you want to help him, and your sister.”

“but?”

“but what?” you asked.

“there’s a but,” he insisted, and you sighed.

“but,” you exaggerated, raising an eyebrow. “are you sure you’re ready for this kind of responsibility?”

“you don’t think i can do it?” he asked, stopping his shelf organizing to look at you.

“it’s not that i don’t think you can, of course i do. i just - think it might be a little more difficult than you’re expecting, thats all. so if you need any help-“

“i’ll be fine,” he insisted.

“okay.”

“but thank you,” he added, kissing your forehead softly, before walking back out to help a customer who’d been ringing the service bell.

“you better be on fire or else calm down; i’m on my way!” he called, and the ringing stopped.

you sighed, wondering if luke knew what he was getting himself into.

•

you only worked half days at the diner so you decided to give luke some space and go back to your house for a while, tidying up a bit since you’d been at luke’s the night before.

flopping down on the couch, you scrolled through the tv channels looking for something to watch, but failed to find anything that interested you.

after making some lunch and doing some chores around the house, you went out to buy some groceries and stopped by the diner to see how luke was doing just after dinner.

“hey,” you smiled, the bell above the door altering him to your presence.

“hey, back already?”

“i’m just passing by. i’m going to the grocery store - do you need me to grab anything for you while i’m there?” you asked, but he shook his head.

“nah i think i got everything all stocked up earlier.”

“is he here already?” you asked.

“yeah, i picked him up from the bus stop an hour ago. you might run into him while you’re out and about.”

“he went out already?” you asked.

“yeah, i think he wanted to uh… see the town,” luke sounded unsure.

“honey-“

“it’s fine, i’m sure he just needs some time to get used to being here. that’s all.”

“you’re right,” you agreed. “not to go into the gorey details but i’ve been in his place before and it’s not easy. no matter how great the person you’re staying with is,” you held his hand on the counter for a second, and he looked like he wanted to ask what you meant, but just smiled instead.

“thanks. i’ll see you later?”

“i was thinking i’d give you guys some space - let him settle in on his own for at least the first night. i’ll see you tomorrow though?” you offered, and he nodded in agreement.

your mind was distracted as you shopped for a few things at the store; luke’s nephew being in town was bringing up some memories that you’d spent years trying to forget. memories of your own adolescence. you just hoped things were easier for luke and jess than they had been for you.

•

it was nearly eleven at night when there was a knock on the door. after a quick glance through the window, you opened the door to see luke standing there.

“hey - what’s going on is everything okay?”

“uh yeah, sure,” he replied, walking past you and into the house, and you shut the door, walking into the living room to find him sitting on the couch.

“luke?”

“yeah.”

“shouldn’t you be at home with jess? i thought you guys were going to hang out?”

“yeah, uh he went out.”

“he went out?”

“yeah. i think i scared him off,” he sighed, and you took a seat next to him, placing a hand reassuringly on his knee.

“what happened?”

“nothing - lorelai invited me to bring him by for dinner tomorrow, so he can meet her and rory, and he asked if i wanted to play poker and then left,” he shrugged.

“ahh i see.”

“see what?” he asked, and you sighed.

“when i was 17, i got into a lot of trouble - like jess. my parents - may they rot in hell - were assholes who hated me and sent me to live with my aunt. lovely woman - had no idea what to do with me.”

“you’re saying i have no idea what i’m doing?”

“i’m saying, it doesn’t matter if you do everything right, sometimes a kid like that has to decide to come around on their own.”

“why didn’t you ever tell me your parents were dead?”

“i guess it never came up,” you shrugged.

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t be,” you shook your head. “the only thing they ever gave me was the ability to lie about where i was going and which floorboards to step on so they didn’t catch me sneaking out. i’m better off without them.”

“i had no idea.”

“i don’t really talk about them, you had no way to know. i’m okay now. my life is better than i ever imagined it could be, and i have you in part to thank for it,” you kissed his cheek softly, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to lean against his side.

“well i’m glad i could be of service,” he kissed you softly.

“jess will come around, luke. just give him some time. my first night after my parents sent me away i stole a car and lived in it for a week.”

“really?” he asked, looking nervous as if he thought jess might do the same.

“no,” you laughed and he relaxed. “but it did take me a while to settle in.”

“is it a bad time to mention that i told lorelai you would come to dinner tomorrow?”

“of course i’ll be there,” you smiled, snuggling into his side after pressing another soft kiss to his lips.

“i should probably get going in case he comes back to the apartment. he doesn’t have a key.”

“you didn’t give me a key?” you asked with a slight laugh.

“he said he didn’t need one,” luke shrugged.

“ah - you have a locksmith on your hands.”

“you think he can pick locks?” he asked.

“it’s not that hard-“ you raised your hands as he shor you a disapproving glance. “kidding.”

“very funny,” he rolled his eyes playfully. “i really should get home.”

“five more minutes?” you asked, clinging to him tighter so he couldn’t leave the couch.

“okay,” he conceded. “five minutes.”

•

“hey, perfect timing!” lorelai greeted as you stood with luke and jess at her front door. “sookie is about to break the record for the most food served outside of the roman empire.”

“sounds great,” luke replied.

“sure does,” jess agreed. though far less sincerely. the introduction between you and luke’s nephew had gone about as well as you’d expected, but you tried to remember how you felt each time your aunt brought home someone new, so you weren’t taking anything he said too personally.

“so, come on in,” lorelai offered, and jess followed her into the house, looking at some pictures on the wall before finding his way to rory’s room after being introduced to sookie and jackson.

everyone got ready to sit down at the table, rory explaining that jess was just grabbing a soda, before you realized you didn’t have a drink and went to grab one. jess was no where to be seen when you got in there, and you stepped outside to find him on the porch with a beer bottle, which he opened with the railing of the porch.

“not hungry?” you asked, holding your hand out for him to hand over the beer, which he did with a sigh.

“not really,” he agreed.

“don’t worry - i won’t tell anyone about the beer, just don’t let lorelai catch you doing it again.”

“thanks, you’re my hero,” he said sarcastically. “you gonna make me come back inside?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“no, if i was you i wouldn’t want to be in there either to be honest,” you sighed. “lorelai is trying to be nice but all this can be … kind of overwhelming.”

“yeah,” he mumbled.

“did the party move out here and no one bothered to tell us?” lorelai asked, emerging from the kitchen door.

“i’ll be right in, i think jess wants to get some fresh air,” you said, pretty sure she wasn’t gonna like that answer.

“sookie made you a grilled cheese if you don’t like pot roast,” she offered in a sing song voice.

“wow. if i’d have known that-“ jess said mockingly. you knew lorelai was only trying to help luke, but you had a feeling that she was just going to make things worse.

“you really don’t want to be here,” she gathered.

“what gave you that idea?” he teased.

“look, i’ve done this whole act before - but you’ve got a really good thing here with luke, he’s a really great guy. he really wants to take care of you and make things right for you. you’re incredibly lucky to have him,” lorelai went on and on, and even you felt awkward, taking a step back to sit on the porch swing.

“lorelai-“ you started to tell her to tone it down a little, but she ignored you. you knew luke didn’t want her meddling in the situation, him being very much an ‘if i want help i’ll ask for it’ and then never ask type of guy.

“if you give this situation half a chance, you might be suprised at how good it can be, and how much you like living here, and how good it feels to have someone like luke that you can really depend on.”

“that’s funny, i thought she,” he pointed to you. “was his girlfriend. are you sleeping with him too, or something?” jess asked, and though it was inappropriate to say the least, you barely stifled a laugh. it sounded exactly like something you would’ve said when you were his age, and lorelai was definitely laying it on pretty thick about luke.

“excuse me?”

“the whole starry eyed ‘you’re so much better off, just give it a chance’ speech. you’re either really naive, or you’re getting some,” he said, before turning to you. “sorry this might be how you find out you’re getting cheated on.”

“jess, come on-“ you sighed.

“this is my house, and i choose how i get talked to in it.”

“you know, you don’t know anything about me, or my life, or my mom, or luke, so why don’t you doctor laura someone else.”

“i’m going inside, you better not have taken that beer from my fridge,” she pointed to the bottle you had set on the table, grabbing it on her way inside and slamming the porch door.

“that wasn’t very neighborly now was it?” jess mumbled, more to himself than to you, you decided.

“hey, i’m not gonna give you a speech or anything-“

“sounds like you are.”

“she means well, even if she can be a bit… much, sometimes,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“if i have to hear about how perfect my life is now one more time i might go stand in traffic,” he huffed, and to your surprise, he sat down on the opposite end of the porch swing, the chain creaking as he did.

“it’s not worth your time; no one here drives fast enough to do any damage,” you offered, and he almost smiled.

jess pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, earning a side eye from you, and he sighed as he handed it over. you put it out in a small puddle of water on the porch and tossed it in the bin outside the kitchen door, before you heard luke and lorelai arguing in the kitchen.

“they fight like a married couple too,” jess added, and you laughed.

“i can’t disagree with you.”

“you sure they’re not-“

“they’re not. don’t bring it up again,” you advised, and he raised his hands in mock surrender as luke stormed out of the gilmore house.

“let’s go,” he said, looking at the two of you, and jess didn’t hesitate to get up and start walking, and in that moment you were just as eager as he was to get away from the gilmore house.

“i think i should go home. call me tomorrow?”

“you’re ditching me?” luke asked.

“no, i just think me being here isn’t really helping, and maybe you guys need some time to talk. i’ll come to yours if you want me to.”

“he’s had more of a conversation with you than he has with me,” luke argued, and you sighed, looking down at your feet. “i’m sorry, you’re right. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“okay. i love you,” you said, giving him a kiss before he hurried to catch up with jess, and you started your walk home.

•

for the second time that week, luke showed up at your house unexpectedly, and you opened the door to let him inside. it was your day off work so you hadn’t talked to him since last night, and he still seemed pretty upset.

“hey, what’s up?” you asked.

“i just pushed him in a lake.”

“what?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“jess. i got this call from taylor that he thinks jess stole the bridge money and i went for confront him and he was being impossible and i just pushed him in. this is bad,” he trailed off mumbling to himself.

“hey maybe it’s not as bad as you think it is,” you tried to calm him down. “how good of a swimmer is he?”

“he’s fine,” he sighed. “he’s wet. i just - i lost it. you’re right; i am in so far over my head i can’t even see my own hat.”

“have you tried turning it around?” you teased, and he gave you a look.

“what was I thinking why did I say yes to this?”

“because you wanted to help him.”

“raising a kid - i don’t even like kids! they’re always sticky, like they’ve got jam on their hands. even if there’s no jam in the house, somehow they’ve always got jam on their hands. i’m not the right guy to deal with that. i have no patience for jam hands!” he spiralled.

“luke, honey. slow down,” you shushed him. “he’s a teenager, not a toddler, so i think you probably don’t have to worry about the jam thing, and you can absolutely do this. but it’s going to take more than two days and an air mattress for you guys to become best friends.”

“i swear i’m gonna kill liz,” he interrupted.

“liz isn’t here. jess is, and you cannot give up on him yet. i know this is not going how you planned but imagine how he must feel.”

“maybe you could talk to him - he doesn’t hate you like he hates me.”

“he does not hate you, luke. he doesn’t know you,” you corrected. “if you want me to talk to him i can try but i don’t know how much that will help. i can’t parent him for you. he’s living under your roof not mine.”

“you’re right,” he sighed.

“as always,” you teased, kissing him on the cheek. “do you want to stay for dinner since you’re here?”

“nah i gotta go find a gnome.”

“excuse me?”

“babette’s gnome - long story.”

“i don’t want to know,” you laughed, and he pulled you into a hug.

“thank you, for talking me out of the crazy tree.”

“you’re welcome. he just needs more time to adjust - his whole life got flipped upside down overnight,” you sympathized. “and so did yours. you need to adjust to this too. just - try not to push him in anymore lakes?” you suggested as luke stepped out the door.

“no promises,” he smiled, before leaving to go find the missing gnome, and you shook your head as you closed the door behind him. at least things were never boring in stars hollow.