#but it was funny that he was like 'you know this book?' and then at the end he realized hes being vulnerable for the first time in his life

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine:

Having a family with worst!Logan

You held your newborn in your arms as you glanced around the room with a full feeling in your heart. You never thought that was going to be your reality, you thought that your long-standing crush on the wolverine died with him. Back then you were just too young for him, still much younger than your now husband. The two of you are closer in age, though it didn’t really matter. You would’ve loved Logan in every universe. This Logan was rougher around the edges, he claimed he was no hero, but in your book he was. He swooped in loving you unconditionally, without even trying or thinking he changed for you. But he never felt more like himself in your arms, with your two-year-old toddler in his lap while he sat at the dinner table with his found family.

As much as Wade got on Logan's nerves, he had given him a whole lot. You'd found Wade after years of being alone, having a run in with X-Men, where you had to flee. Deadpool was working with them at the time and wound up quitting that time because he wanted to besties with you. You found him ridiculously annoying, but he found you annoying too, the perfect pair of friends who annoyed the shit out of each other. You'd gotten on Logan's nerves as well but you grew on him in a different way than Wade had. He couldn't help but fall in love with you, giving in to you even though you were much younger than him. Logan knew about your past with this universes' Logan but he didn't care. After all the time you've had together, he knew your feeling for him were genuine.

Logan never thought he would have one kid, let alone three, four if you counted Wade. Though Laura was an adult now, she stayed at the flat once in a while to help out with your son, James. She was staying with you again when you gave birth to Anna. She was an amazing big sister, bonding with her father and you. Getting the family she had always wanted, even if it had taken awhile. Laura knew it wasn't because no one wanted to love her, they just didn't know where she was. Logan tried his best with her, having difficulty trying to be a good guy for her. Both you and Laura held him to a high standard, something you'd assume James would do to. Because even with Logan's faults, you could tell he was a good man from the second you met him.

Laura could tell the same thing, even when she was a little girl. Even though his grumpy, dickhead facade he cared deeply about others. It was funny, it was like more you frustrated or drove him crazy, the more he cared about you. Laura was wildly impulsive, something that Logan has had to bail her out of several times. He'd always show up with a stone-walled face, angry as shit, deadly silent before getting back to the house. Logan would ask her to explain, hearing her out before saying his peace.

With you it was different, the two of you bickered so much when you first met. But it was only because you wanted to get close with him, and he wanted to push you far far away. Logan already knew the risk of you having feelings for him if you had feelings for a different version of him. Your feelings for the worst Logan couldn't match the crush you had on the previous. Sure you were in love with him back then, but you couldn't have him. He didn't want you. This Logan did, he let you know how he felt even when he didn't want to. Logan only acted like he didn't want you even though he was yearning. Dreaming about you and thinking about you all the time. To a point that he could no longer resist you, giving in and loving you with all of him.

You gave him everything back, the two of you getting married and getting pregnant. Logan settling down and getting a job at the local lumber factory. Sometimes Logan didn't feel like the life he was living was real. But then you would touch him, seeing his ring on your finger, or when his son would speak to him, now the newest reminder in the form of his youngest daughter. He remembered his Rogue, a girl he'd protect over anything, naming his daughter after her. You were the one naming their son, James.

Logan held your toddler in his arms (instead of dogpool 😭), the boy playing his little action figures of the x-men. You gazed at your son, with the hair brown hair that stuck up, his hair almost mocking his fathers. Your daughter was nestled up to your chest, a binky in your mouth a small little furrow in her brow that reminded you of Logan's. You had a baby blanket made by Wade that she was wrapped in, her fresh baby smell filled your senses, comforting you. You've let others hold her for a little bit but your attached to her, having a c-section this time around. She was in the nicu for a short time, and you were feeling some postpartum depression after you got home. Being in an extreme amount of pain along with having a newborn and a toddler.

Your marriage had definitely been tested, Logan getting frustrated but coming through for you. Holding you through the pain and the fights the two of you had. It's been about a couple months, Anna seemed to grow every single day. You loved seeing your husband holding her, she was so tiny in his big arms. But she already looked so much like him, it warmed your heart. Logan was such a good father, his super hearing would aide him in taking care of the kids at night. His insomnia perfect for fatherhood and for you, taking care of you and then going to work in the morning. He worked so hard for your father, pushing himself and worrying himself silly.

Eventually forcing him to go to couple's therapy with you. The two of you growing closer as you opened up about things you usually wouldn't. Logan telling you more about his past world and everything that he'd been through. Why he felt unworthy of your love and having a family together. It wasn't that he didn't love you completely, because he was deathly in love with you. But you didn't want it to fade because he doesn't work on his mental health. Something you always struggle with but has progressively gotten better as you've aged. He was reluctant at first, because he thought therapy meant it was too late. But you said it doesn't have to get bad to work on it, there's no reason for your relationship to not get stronger. He usually didn't win arguments with you, because a lot of the time you were right.

And it was the reason why you were feeling so good after the last couple hard months. Coming out on the other side with a warm heart, feeling safe in your husbands' arms, feeling fulfilled with your little baby girl in your arms. Your family around you, enjoying each other's company. That night when everyone left, eventually you got the kiddos in the bath, and getting ready for bed. Tucking James into his room and finally putting Anna in her nursey at four months old. You and Logan still had to get up at night, but it was slowly getting better, as she grew bigger.

You finally stumbled into Logan's awaiting arms, tucking your head into his neck. His hands rubbing up and down your back, as you inhaled his familiar scent, making you melt into your husband's arms. Logan held you close, cradling your head with his other hand, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. Your hands came to his face, coming to either side of his face to connect your lips in a soft, messy kiss. Logan hummed into your lips, pulling you in closer by your hips, as his lips slowly moved with yours.

"Why don't you go take a shower?" Logan suggested, as you sighed, kissing him once again.

"Don't wanna let you go."

"I'll show ya a good time after how about that?" Logan teased, his hand coming to pat at your butt.

"You better." You rose your eyebrows, with a little smile on your face as you pointed at his chest before hooking your finger into his shirt and pulling him to your lips in puckered kiss, making you giggle.

tags: @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1

note: these haven't edited tonight, i'm a writing roll so i'm just trying to write write write lmao

[flawseer]

Your thoughts on the wof characters have been really interesting and I'd love to hear your take on Starflight (your assignment of him being the 'designated sufferer' of arc one is both hilarious and tragically accurate). I've always liked him, cowardly though he is he still acts when he really needs to and the dynamic between him and Tsunami is super fun (the whole outwardly combative but inwardly just wishing to be as strong/as smart as the other).

I like Starflight and I relate to him a lot, as a fellow chronic worrier who annoys his friends with constant blathering about stuff only I find interesting, and often finding myself paralyzed in the face of decisions.

It’s funny how the story puts forward a black dragon, which in media are usually portrayed as mysterious, ambiguously malevolent harbingers of doom, and makes him into this adorable dork.

He’s also the plot’s chew toy, which I am at times less enthusiastic about. Especially when jokes are made at the expense of his misfortune.

Wings of Night and Sea

Starflight’s and Tsunami’s friendship is very engaging because, in a sense, both of them complete each other. For each, emulating the other serves as their last resort when faced with a personal crisis. Whenever Tsunami encounters a situation she cannot overcome with her usual blunt and direct approach, she asks herself how Starflight would resolve the situation. When Starflight becomes overwhelmed and too scared to move, his mind conjures an image of the strongest, bravest, most unstoppable thing he knows, which is Tsunami. Though either would be reluctant to openly admit it to each other, they both rely on each other’s strengths to cover their own weaknesses.

Through this you get the sense that, while their opposite personalities annoy each other to no end—if you locked both of them in a room for three hours, they’d be strangling each other when you open the door again—at their core they have only the deepest respect for each other. It becomes especially apparent when you realize that both of their stories in their respective books have them compare themselves to the other unfavorably.

If these two ever did a DBZ-style fusion dance, the result would likely be one of the most capable and balanced characters in their series.

Starflight's misfortune

CW: Discussion of blindness

One thing I have noticed (and have alluded to a lot in previous posts) is that the plot really likes to kick Starflight in the teeth. His own story arc puts him through the wringer, but he is not even safe in the two arcs past that, where he is largely out of focus. Most of the things that happen to him in arc 1 seem to occur for the sake of the story, but past that... it sometimes feels to me like the world has it in for this guy.

I started writing a list of every bad thing that happens to Starflight over all three arcs, but it got way too long, so now I’m just going to talk about a few select things instead.

One thing that stands out to me is that every other protagonist in arc 1 gets a specific moment. That kind of scene where they enter their tribe’s biome for the first time or connect with a particular part of their culture/physiology, and are overcome with a sudden burst of euphoria or deep resonance with their own nature. Clay gets it when he submerges himself in mud for the first time and then later again when he finds his siblings, Tsunami when she sees and smells the ocean, Glory when she’s in the rainforest and feels the sun, and Sunny when they go through the magic tunnel and end up in the desert. Starflight is the only arc 1 protagonist who doesn’t get a moment like this; when he enters his tribe’s home for the first time it’s a giant craphole that makes him feel upset. It only gets worse from there.

Then there is the big one; the misfortune that happens to him at the end of his book. I struggle to talk about this because... uh... How do I put this?

I opened this post by saying I relate to Starflight on a personal level. I wouldn’t consider myself as studious or well-read as him, so it’s not a direct comparison, but I do like to draw, write and dabble in visual artistry. This is a major part of my life; how I define myself as a person and what I think makes me “me”. The thing about this though is that all of this is tied up into one thing: my sense of sight.

It follows then that what ends up happening to Starflight is the realization of the one thing I fear the most. Thinking about the possibility of losing ones sight is deeply, personally horrifying to me. It messes me up internally just to consider it happening to me.

This, the subject of becoming blind, is a very difficult topic for any story to properly engage with. There are many pitfalls you can fall into and come off as insensitive, or ignorant. The way Wings of Fire deals with this subject is to... well... it doesn’t really. Starflight is blinded and then the story skips over most of his reaction to it because the next POV character gets separated from the group while they sort it out.

In a way, this is a good thing. I don’t know how this series—which often rushes through these really uncomfortable, harrowing events—would be able to show a realistic reaction to this development. Like, losing ones sight would be a horrifying prospect for anyone, but for Starflight especially this completely uproots not only his entire life, but his sense of identity. Everything he likes doing, everything he is and wants to be in life is rendered virtually impossible by this.

Consider who Starflight is. He is a thinker, and a worrier who is always inside his own head. He dreads and fears, he seeks out worst case scenarios, I daresay he is inclined towards pessimism. Whenever his neuroticism gets him too stressed, or emotional, or worried, he has one immediate response: bury his nose in a scroll. When he arrives in a new place, he usually asks where the scrolls are at. When he is under threat of being abducted or attacked, his first instinct is to go grab his scrolls to keep them safe. Like with me and drawing, reading is how he unwinds, how he balances himself. It is what keeps him sane and functional through dealing with adversity (and he's Starflight, so he deals with a lot of adversity).

Then this happens to him, and suddenly the one thing that makes this poor, battered boy happy, the one thing that never hurts him, is taken away forever. If I was in his place, if I learned I was suddenly blind, I would fall apart. I would cry, then scream, then cry AND scream and probably flail around in a panic. Clay would have to hold me down and restrain me so I don’t end up falling off the platform in a frenzied fit. Or worse.

So yeah, I get why the plot had to look away. Seeing this happen to Starflight—him going through this kind of anguish and then sinking into quiet despair as his world crumbles around him—would have been heartbreaking. In the end, we go on Sunny’s solo adventure and when she returns Starflight is already conveniently past the screaming fit phase and has adjusted to his new life circumstances—enough to talk and joke as if nothing happened. He then goes on to dedicate himself to bringing the wonders of literature to other blind dragons, which is a noble goal and good trajectory for his character—even if it’s a bit abrupt and I would have liked to SEE him do that instead of just being told.

Anyway.

This next one isn’t as notable because it doesn’t happen TO him, but I want to point it out to back up my claim that Starflight Ls can and will happen even in story arcs that have very little to do with him. In book 6 Moonwatcher and Darkstalker have a conversation where they discuss the concept of Nightwing powers and how they relate to the moons. The story very pointedly draws attention to the fact that Starflight nearly was born under three full moons and would have become the most powerful Nightwing of his generation if his inept caretakers had not decided to hatch him underground. While I don’t think getting these powers would have been good for Starflight in the long run, it is a bit sad considering he spent most of his childhood thinking he was born wrong because he didn’t have powers, and then Morrowseer further gaslit him about it throughout the arc.

And then we don't talk about what happens in arc 3. I am not the right person to discuss it.

My take on Starflight

I was asked to give my take on the character, so...

I already went into how I think he’s very introspective and prone to worrying. I see him as an introvert, which is something he has in common with Glory, and contrast him with Sunny, Clay, and especially Tsunami. He enjoys reading but also other activities where he gets to use his brain. He likes puzzles; I imagine he got very excited when they had to figure out the murder plot in book 2, or when he caught Blister in a lie. If he had a computer it would be full of adventure and puzzle games, and he’d hog the resident DS to play the Professor Layton series all the time.

When they found the academy, it is implied he teaches a literacy course and gives out writing assignments. That is right up his alley, but I’ve always felt he also has strong math/natural science teacher vibes. There should logically be a numbers class at that school and I can’t imagine any other character who would be more suited to teach it.

If I were asked where I would make changes to his story, I guess I would nix the part where he and Fatespeaker hook up in book 5. I have nothing against their relationship, it’s actually grown a lot on me over time. But I never liked how it started. Starflight gets rejected by Sunny and then immediately hooks up with Fatespeaker. This is really undignified for her because it takes their potentially intriguing romantic relationship and turns her into Starflight’s “rebound chick”. You really need to give yourself some time to move on from your previous attraction; rushing like this creates doomed relationships.

The original story implies that about half a year passes between the end of arc 1 and the start of arc 2. I like to pretend this gap is actually a bit longer, by like 2 or 3 years. It gives the old protagonists a bit more time to settle into the roles they’ll occupy during the next arc, and makes it more plausible to me that they could build and outfit an entire school, write the curriculum, designate roles, etc..

In that time, with things being more calm now, Starflight has opportunity to get lost in his own thoughts again. It turns out, now that the dangers of the war are no longer distracting him, he finds it difficult to cope with his blindness and sinks into a depression.

While this happens, Fatespeaker is there with him. She sees his condition worsening by the day, but refuses to give up on him. She reads to him; they talk, and they bond. Though serious self-searching and hard work, together they manage to pull out of the darkness eventually. This is how their relationship starts, and it’s also how Starflight gets the idea to invent the dragon-equivalent of braille.

Somewhere during that time, I also imagine Glory has Tamarin escorted to Jade Mountain so she can help Starflight adjust to his new situation and learn how to navigate his life without needing to rely on others. Perhaps this is what motivates Tamarin to attend the academy later.

What else is there to say? Hmm...

I think Starflight is really fond of hard candy. Jawbreakers are his favorite especially. Though given how prone to misfortune he is in the story, I’m hesitant to put him in proximity of anything with a name like that.

[tetsuissohot]

Lice?!

☆summary. you check their head for lice!

☆warning/tags: fem!reader, mostly crack, fluff, jkk men with lice?

☆word count: 1.3k

☆a/n: I don't know how I came up with these, but I still hope you enjoy and that this brings a smile to your face!

Nanami Kento | Gojo Satoru | Toji Fushiguro | Geto Suguro | Choso

Nanami approached you in the living room, looking uncharacteristically flustered. He adjusted his tie for the third time in two minutes, clearly uncomfortable.

"Y/N," he said, voice calm but with an underlying urgency, "I need you to check my head."

You blinked, setting down the book you were reading. "Uh, what?"

Nanami sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled blond hair. "It’s nothing serious... well, probably nothing. But I’ve noticed I’ve been itching. A lot. I can’t afford to be distracted on the next mission, so just... check."

You suppressed a smile, biting your lip. Seeing the always-composed Nanami unsettled by something as simple as an itchy scalp was too adorable.

“Sure thing,” you said, standing up and motioning for him to sit on the couch. “Come here, let me take a look.”

Nanami sat down, stiff as a board, his back straight and eyes fixed ahead as if preparing for battle. You took a seat behind him, fingers gently parting his hair.

After a few moments, you broke the silence. “So, should I call Satoru if I find anything? Maybe he’ll bring you a lice comb—”

“No.” Nanami cut you off instantly, his voice firm. “Under no circumstances should Gojo find out about this.”

You chuckled, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Relax. No lice. You’re clear.”

Nanami visibly relaxed. "Thank you." He stood up, adjusting his suit once more. "But remember, we never speak of this again."

"Agreed," you said with a grin. "But if you’re ever itching to come back for a check-up, let me know."

He shot you a deadpan look. “Not funny, Y/N.”

Gojo waltzed into the room with his usual swagger, but something was off. He scratched his head casually, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t bothered, but you caught the third scratch in as many minutes.

“Babe,” he began, a playful grin tugging at his lips, “you wouldn’t mind checking my head for lice, would you?”

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Lice? Satoru, you literally have Infinity. What, did they evolve to pass through it?”

Gojo plopped down on the couch beside you, leaning in close. “Listen, Infinity protects against curses, not tiny, itchy creatures. They might be cleverer than we think. I can’t risk this perfect hair being infested.”

You snorted, grabbing the comb from the table. “You really think you’ve got lice?”

Gojo gave you a dramatic shrug, scratching his head again. “Well, if you loved me, you’d check and make sure. You wouldn’t want the strongest sorcerer being brought down by some tiny bugs, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but part of you found his vulnerability oddly endearing. “Fine, hold still. Let me make sure your Infinity isn’t on vacation.”

You ran the comb through his hair while he hummed, grinning all the while. “You know, I could get used to this. You, doting on me, fingers in my hair. It’s pretty romantic if you think about it.”

“Keep talking and I’ll start charging you for this,” you teased. “Also, no lice. Your perfect hair is safe for now.”

Gojo beamed and leaned back, dramatically throwing an arm over his eyes. “Ah, wonderful! I guess I’ll have to come up with a new excuse for you to pamper me next time.”

You playfully pushed his shoulder. “Get out of here, drama king.”

Toji barged into the room with his usual swagger, but the moment he started scratching the back of his head, you knew something was up.

“Toji?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He scratched again and grunted. “Yeah, yeah. I know how this looks.”

You blinked. “Like you need some flea powder?”

Toji shot you a glare but then sighed, leaning against the wall. “Look, I’ve been itchy, okay? Maybe it’s nothing, but I need you to check my hair. Make sure I don’t have any of those... lice things.”

You had to stifle a laugh. Toji Fushiguro, the man who took down powerful sorcerers and curses, was worried about lice.

“You? Lice?” You chuckled, motioning for him to sit. “Aren’t you supposed to be too tough for something like that?”

He scowled, sitting down with a huff. “Just check. I don’t want to be distracted on a job.”

You grabbed the comb, shaking your head as you began parting his hair. “This might be the first time I’ve seen you worried about something so... small.”

Toji grumbled. “I’m not worried, I’m just... irritated.”

After a minute or so of combing through his thick, dark hair, you grinned. “No lice. You’re good. Maybe you’re just allergic to being so grumpy.”

Toji looked over his shoulder, his smirk returning. “If you’re done messing with me, maybe you can help me... de-stress.”

You flicked his ear and laughed. “Sure, but next time, try not to come in here scratching like a stray dog.”

You were chilling in the couch when Geto came in, looking suspiciously thoughtful. He sat down beside you, scratching his head absentmindedly.

"Y/N," he started, his voice soft but curious, "do you know what’s causing this? I’ve been itching for days."

You tilted your head, looking at him with amusement. “Scratching your head a lot lately, huh? Want me to check for lice?”

Geto chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Lice? Really? That’s your diagnosis?”

You shrugged, already grabbing the comb. “Well, you’ve been scratching a lot, and lice don’t care how strong a sorcerer is.”

Geto leaned back slightly, allowing you to start combing through his long black hair. “I’ve exorcised curses and fought cursed spirits my whole life, but I never thought I’d need protection from something so... mundane.”

You laughed softly. “Well, even sorcerers can’t escape normal human problems.”

Geto closed his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. “I suppose that’s what I have you for. Keep me grounded in the world of lice and hair care.”

You chuckled, running the comb gently through his hair. “Exactly. Someone has to make sure you don’t lose your head over a few itchy spots.”

After a few moments, you gave him a pat on the shoulder. “All clear. No lice.”

Geto smiled, his eyes soft as he glanced over at you. “Thank you, my love. I feel much more at peace now.”

You kissed his cheek. “Glad I could help. Anything else bothering you? Maybe you’re allergic to all that long hair.”

Geto grinned. “Perhaps... or maybe it’s just an excuse to have you take care of me.

Choso shuffled into the room, looking slightly unsure of himself. He scratched his head awkwardly, avoiding your gaze.

“Y/N,” he started slowly, “I... think I might have lice.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the blunt admission. “Wait, what? Why would you think that?”

He scratched again, looking down at his feet. “I’ve been itching a lot, and I heard some people say that could mean... lice. I’m not sure, but it’s starting to worry me.”

You smiled softly, walking over to him. “Hey, it’s okay. Sit down, I’ll check for you.”

Choso obediently sat down, his shoulders tense as you grabbed the comb and began parting his hair. His usually calm demeanor was replaced by visible uncertainty.

“I’m not familiar with this... lice thing,” he admitted quietly, glancing up at you. “But it doesn’t sound good.”

You chuckled softly. “It’s just tiny bugs that can live in your hair. Annoying, but not dangerous. And don’t worry, if you’ve got them, I’ll help you get rid of them.”

Choso relaxed a bit under your touch, his tense shoulders lowering. “I’m glad you’re here. I’d have no idea how to handle something like this.”

You finished checking his hair and smiled. “Good news, Choso—no lice. You’re safe.”

Choso looked up at you, visibly relieved. “Thank you. I feel much better now.”

You ruffled his hair affectionately. “Next time you’re itching, just come to me. I’ll make sure it’s nothing serious.”

He smiled softly, his eyes warm. “I’ll remember that.”

MASTERLIST

Thank you for reading until the end! I hope you enjoyed it. This piece was more of a spontaneous writing, so there may be some imperfections in the scenario. I just had these ideas and wanted to put them down quickly. xoxo

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Him or Me?

LADS Men getting jealous over your latest hyper fixation.

Zayne

Who: Keigo Takami (Hawks) - My Hero Academia & Sanemi Shinazugawa - Demon Slayer

Zayne: You received another package today?

MC: Ahh my figurines!

You tear the box open in excitement while Zayne watches.

Zayne: You have quite a few figures of that red winged character

MC: He's my favorite

Zayne: He's your ... favorite?

MC: My favorite character from my hero academia yes

Zayne: and who is the bug eye'd one?

MC: Don't call him bug eyed

Zayne: Defending him now?

MC: His name is Sanemi he has a bit of a temper but he's really a sweetheart

Zayne: and he's also from your hero show?

MC: No he's from demon slayer

Zayne: Oh

MC: These two are definitely my top 5

Zayne: So there's a list

MC: A mental list

Zayne: Who is on this mental list

MC: Well number one is my red ear'd jealous boyfriend who's trying to hide the fact that he's jealous of these 2D characters

Zayne: I'm not jealous

You stand grabbing your figurines boxes as you move around him heading towards your room to build them.

MC: Sure *Kisses his cheek* jealousy is cute on you but don't worry no one can take me from you

Rafayel

Who: Trafalgar D. Law - One Piece & Itsuomi - A Sign of Affection

MC: Raf have you seen my sketch book?

Rafayel: *Avoiding eye contact* Nope

MC: Did you do something with it?

Rafayel: Nope

MC: Found it. Why was it under the couch?

Rafayel: You're a silly girl with a bad memory

MC: RAF!

Rafayel: What!?

MC: I'm missing like four pages in here!

Rafayel: Have you tried not missing them?

MC: Very funny ... coincidentally its only the sketches of Law & Itsuomi

Rafayel: Why do you need to draw that taffy guy and umami dude? Draw meeeee I'm your boyfriend

MC: I've already drawn you before

Rafayel: I only had one page in your book they each had two that's not fair *pouts*

MC: You're such a baby if I give you a second page can you stop ripping up my hardwork?

Rafayel: Make it four pages and you have a deal

Xavier

Who: Kento Nanami - Jujutsu Kaisen & Vash - Trigun

MC: Xav?

Xavier: yes my love

MC: Would you like to explain what happened to my Nanami plushie?

Xavier: I don't know what you're talking about

MC: He has mysteriously gone missing

Xavier: Are you sure you searched everywhere? You did work sixteen hours yesterday It's common to misplace items when you're tired

MC: I don't know I never move him from the shelf .... have you seen him?

Xavier: I haven't sorry

MC: Interesting ... my phone case with Vash is also missing

Xavier: You seem quite smitten with those two lately do you like them more than me?

MC: Xavier they're 2D animations they'll never be better than you

Xavier: Promise?

MC: I put it on my pinky

Xavier: 🥰

MC: Can I have my phone case and plushie now?

Xavier: Absolutely not

Sylus

Who: Sung Jinwoo - Solo Leveling & Shinichiro Sano - Tokyo Revengers

Sylus: What's so great about that show that you need to go to four different stores to get the entire book collection?

MC: I tried to get you to watch Solo Leveling with me

Sylus: I'm a busy man princess

MC: I think you'd really like it Jinwoo looks like a cinnamon roll and is a cinnamon roll but could still kill you

Sylus: Are you implying that me and this 2D man are similar?

MC: Hell no you look like you can kill and could kill ... you're only a cinnamon roll for me

Sylus: How perceptive ... and what book is that

MC: It's a manga get it right ... its Tokyo Revengers I'm still waiting on the next season but I need to know what happens because I need to see Shinichiro

Sylus: Who is Shin and why do you need to see him eat a cheerio?

MC: Not Shin eat a cheerio ... Shinichiro Sano aka the weak king

Sylus: How can you be a king and be weak?

MC: Those around you are strong

Sylus: Sounds like a kingdom waiting to fall ... are you almost done?

MC: What's with the curt tone?

Sylus: No reason we just have dinner reservations soon princess

MC: That's in five hours

Sylus: *Grabs the stack of books from MCs hands* My how time flies lets go

[ghouldtime]

Neighbor! König Part 2

Part One

Part Three

After you expressed interest in his miniature collection, he actually actively OFFICIALLY invited you over one evening (and inside!)

It may not sound like much to most to be invited into someone's house but for him, it's the ultimate trust. His house is his private space, his sanctuary, where he goes to be without other people

He doesn't ever invite anyone inside unless necessary or they've truly gained his trust and being invited INTO his house, and actually into a shared space of one of the hobbies that matter the most to him?? Yeah, that's how he says he likes you

He's been working on his models and dioramas for so so long he's incredibly proud and can't help but to want to actually show them off to someone who wants to see

Usually most people don't care :( or think it's weird

But you've embraced it! You're so excited and he's over the moon, he's having the best day ever, if you do research and bring him gifts or show him some new ideas

He has exquisite attention to detail and INSISTS on everything being exactly the way he envisions it. And you notice! You actually notice. Which means you care about his hobbies, the work he puts in, and therefore him

It might be a bit early to say the L word but he's feeling certain ways

He may be a big dude but that doesn't mean he lacks fine motor skills. He's laying those tiny pieces of moss onto the cobble stones like a PRO

Miniatures allow him control over the environment, even if it's on a smaller scale, and offer a way to keep his hands and mind busy so he often throws himself into it

It also helps him relive happier memories. He's afraid of forgetting them and when he's stressing, it's his happy place because he can look at them and simply remember the things in life that matter

He'll ask you about a story you like or a favorite show or book or movie. That's his next miniature planned (in secret. Can't ruin the surprise, he needs to have it all perfect. He will either read the book, watch the movie, will study EVERY detail)

He will start to invite you over when he's having a painting night or is working on them. You don't have to follow his rules or do what he wants! He's just happy you're there and appreciating it

He will always have your favorite snacks and drinks in stock too. Need to make it fun and can't have you going hungry

If you want, he'll put on background noise! He's happy to make it immersive and to light a candle or put something in a diffuser to really set the scene you're going for. But he's perfectly happy to hangout with you as is

You'll finally get to hear him laugh and hear his really, really bad jokes. He has a dry sense of humor and most of what he says isn't even close to funny, he's awkward like that

But if you laugh? That's it, he's sold.

Time flies so fast when you're over, you don't even realize it's 3am

You don't need to go home! I know it's right across the street but he has a guest room and it saves you the trip in the morning. You have a whole nother round of characters to paint :)

Okay maybe it was an excuse so you could see the curtains he'd made and the pillows and he decorated the guest room with! Like actually tried decorating. They're made with love, that's what counts right?

Did he spray the pillows with his cologne before you came over? Maybe, but he won't ever admit to it

You can't complain. Not when he insists it's no trouble at all, you should stay over, and he does everything he can to make you comfortable.

And you're certainly not complaining when you wake up to breakfast in bed

He's so happy to finally have someone to share his life with, even if it's nothing official. He might not say it because words are hard, but he'll always show it in every way that he can 💚

If you look closely at the replica he made of his childhood home, you'll notice two figures in the kitchen who just so happen to look like you and him

Proud believer of König being just a guy! A guy with hobbies! A guy with a calm domestic life! Just because he's a private military contractor doesn't mean he's a constantly violent dude or a guy who lacks an immense amount of respect for boundaries. Sure, he gets really into his job when he does it, but that's his realm! That's his zone. That's why he's confident and having fun, he knows he's good

Outside of work, he's just a guy with a troubled childhood making the best of life and trying to find his own sense of belonging, happiness, and peace

Justice for König, he's not an insane perv or some freakytron or some stalker :(

[carolmunson]

orange colored sky blurbette.

in the glow of the orange and purple lights he put up, you both lay quietly on the sectional. your head on a squishy throw pillow over his feet, both of you covered in blankets — two kindles glowing in the dim light.

you hadn’t expected reading together being such a thing, but you both end up doing it every now and again. eddie hated the idea of a kindle, but when his eyes started getting tired even with his glasses the text adjustment feature called to him. for you, it was just cheaper to get books this way.

your book is spooky, in honor of the season. you stopped being a big reader until you got into horror and thriller lit. some crime lit. you said ‘crime lit’ to eddie once and he said ‘haha, crime lit — clit for short.’ he thought he was so funny — ‘you reading some clit?’

but tonight you weren’t — it was spooky. it was scary. enough that every time the apartment settled with a quiet creak, or the rumble of a neighbor vibrated beneath you, your gaze would wander. cautious into the dark corners of his place.

maybe the book was manifesting the haunt.

eddie likes to tease you when you’re scared. smirking every time he hears you shift at a sound that goes bump in the night. you wouldn’t even open the closet yesterday after you both heard something fall in there after you’d both settled into bed.

“baby, it’s probably my weekend bag from when i came home from chicago,” he hums with his eyes closed, “i just sort of threw it on the high shelf. prol’ly fell.”

“still…” you say, eyes glued to the dark oak door, a sharp gleam on the center from the moonlight through thr windows. like a beacon beckoning you to try out your bravery.

“can you just check?” you whisper.

“you’re being such a baby,” he sighs, a soft snicker as he peels himself out of bed. he trudges to the door and puts his hand on the knob but stops, turning to you, “hey wait, shh.”

“what?” you whisper.

“hold on, hold on shh,” he presses his ear to the door, finger tips holding steady against the wood, “can you hear that?”

“what ed?!” you whisper yell, heart starting to thud.

“something’s…breathing…” he says slowly, turning to you with horrified eyes.

tears prick yours, stinging the corners of your eye lids while you scramble off the bed to the bedroom door. stopping short when you hear eddie laugh and open the closet with ease.

“see baby, i told you, just my weekender,” he laughs, light pooling into the room when he clicks on the overhead light inside. you sniffle, stepping over to see the leather bag on the ground — contents pouring out of it.

“you’re such an asshole,” you snap, wiping your eyes while you make your way back to bed.

“i know,” he giggles, “want me to sleep on the couch?”

when he flicks the light off again, the darkness sends that small crumb of fear into a small bloom again. you shake your head no.

“i gotcha, sweetheart,” he teasingly coos, getting back into bed, “whose scarier than me, huh?”

tonight, on the couch, you take another look around at the sound of the fridge hum lessening in energy saver mode. eddie giggles under his breath.

“stop readin’ it baby, if it freaks you out,” he says, nudging your head with his foot from under the pillow.

“it’s fine,” you shake him off, “i’m okay.”

later that night, still chest deep in the silence of the living room, a loud thud sounds on the roof. one right after the other. like footsteps.

eddie perks up, head lifting straight to the source, sitting up straight, “i don’t like that.”

your eyes coast from the kindle to his chest, his concerned face coming down to look at you.

“don’t worry about it baby,” you mock in a version of his cool tone from last night, “it’s probably just your weekender bag.”

[callalillywrites]

Shooting His Shot Part 1

The original version of this story is something I've been wanting to expand for a while now. I finally got my chance, and it's become one of my most indulgent stories yet (I think). What was 1200 words is now over 8000 and split into two parts. Part 2 will be available in a few hours.

I had so much fun with this AU that I could easily persuaded to expand the universe a bit more. Ideas are already forming for a few of the other characters, but I'll hold off until I know others want to see them as well. It's not like I don't have plenty of other stories to work on anyway. 😊

The gif below is somewhat the look I was going for with Steve in this fic though he's given a suit jacket to wear. But yeah, this is it. One of my favorite looks of his btw.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Other notable characters: Bucky Barnes, Jake Jensen, Sam Wilson, Ari Levinson, Natasha Romanoff, Peter Parker, and honorably mentioned Curtis Everett

Word Count: 4350

Summary: Steve owns a steakhouse that you used to frequent before your ex came into the picture. Now, your ex is gone, and you're ready to head back to the one place you've always felt welcome and wanted. What neither you nor Steve count on is his staff, led by Bucky, launching a full-one assault effort to get you two together. It's time the two of you realize your feelings for one another.

Warnings: abusive ex (Reader's), pining, so much pining, fluff, two ridiculous idiots in love, a whole bunch of matchmakers

A/N: This is a completely self-indulgent story made like one of those cheesy rom-com which is my bread and butter at this point. It's proofread, but any mistakes are my own.

I also do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

PART 2

*****

A few hours before dinnertime rush begins…

It might be his day off, but Steve’s made it such a habit that he can’t stop himself. After all, he keeps hoping that you’ll walk back in the door of his steakhouse one day. Even if it’s been six months since he’s last seen your smiling and pretty face.

To help the hours pass, Steve turns to their books and reviews them. He might as well work on payroll for the week and get the checks ready for the following week. While he’s at it, he might look at their orders and see how they’re sitting as well. Maybe he should venture into the kitchen soon and speak with Bucky about their upcoming inspection. Not that they weren’t ready, but one can never be caught unawares. Besides that, they pride themselves on having one of the cleanest kitchens in the county.

As if conjuring up his best friend, Bucky stands in the doorway with one of their famous lunch specials.

“You’ve been at it long enough, punk. Take a break and eat something.”

Without waiting for an answer, Bucky steps into the room and sets the plate down on Steve’s desk, careless of the few neat piles Steve’s created that morning.

Steve stares at the plate for a few seconds before his stomach makes it known how empty it is. He probably shouldn’t have skipped breakfast after the workout he pushed himself through that morning.

While Steve takes a bite of food, Bucky sinks into one of the other chairs and sprawls himself out. He pulls out his phone and grins at whatever he finds waiting on his screen.

“What’s so funny, jerk?”

Bucky shakes his head, content to sit there and wait for Steve to finish the plate.

Knowing he won’t leave without Steve eating everything, Steve takes another bite. Each new fork or spoonful, he shoots Bucky a look, only getting a smug smirk in return. When Steve finally finishes the plate, he sets it aside and goes back to his computer screen. He’s almost certain Bucky won’t be sticking around too long, having enjoyed the small break he’d gotten in feeding Steve.

When one of their cooks happens to walk by, Bucky notices, too, and shouts out, “Hey, we get that order from the bakery down the street yet? I wanna make sure they sent along some of their best treats.”

Steve’s attention returns to Bucky.

Before he knows it, Bucky smacks his knees and pushes to his feet. With an efficient movement born of years in the kitchen, he grabs up Steve’s empty plate and turns toward the door.

“Hey, punk, you might wanna freshen up. We’re getting a special guest tonight. Maybe this time, you’ll man up and shoot your shot.”

Steve’s brows furrow at Bucky’s words.

At least they do until Jensen walks by with an excitement Steve hasn’t seen in a few months.

“Did you hear, Boss Man?” Jensen asks as he tells Steve about the reservation that’s just come in.

A reservation for one in your name.

*****

You check your new outfit a final time in the mirror, satisfied with your efforts. The makeup you’ve chosen for the evening is minimal since you’re only interested in pleasing yourself.

Almost a year wasted with a man who never appreciated you. A man who wanted to shape and mold you into some ideal that you could never be, never wanted to be.

Six months without visiting one of your favorite places in the entire world. All because that same man had been so jealous of the attention you got from everyone there but especially from one Steve Rogers.

Oh, you can only hope that you might see Steve again that evening, having missed his sweet smile most of all these last several months. He’d been one of the first there to make you feel welcome. One by one, so did the others, but you always came back because of Steve.

Part of you wishes still that he would’ve made a move on you during one of your many visits to the steakhouse over the past few years. Maybe then he would’ve saved you all those months with someone less deserving of you and what you had to offer.

He never did though.

So, you accepted the two of you would just be friendly toward one another, just like you were with all the others there.

You can live with that.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself as you grab up your jacket and purse.

A final glance in the mirror to ensure your outfit is still perfect for the night you have planned. It’s during this time that your phone pings with the arrival of your Uber.

The ride to the steakhouse takes you through the familiar streets you’ve missed. It amazes you how much they have stayed the same though there are some changes that surprise you. Your favorite used bookshop’s doors have shuttered, but the café you used to visit almost every morning still thrived. A couple of new tiny shops have opened while others remain with a couple that have closed. The eclectic collection of shops was what drew you to this area in the first place when you’d been looking at universities.

Anger fills you for a moment at how manipulative your ex had been with your routine and your life. How could you let him work you like he did? How could he take the very things that made you happiest because he couldn’t handle his own feelings of jealousy and inadequacy?

So many of the hours you used to spend on these few streets, window shopping and getting to know the owners of the shops. They’d been lost to you when you let your ex into your life. Friends lost because of him. You could only wonder what they’ve been up to these past months while you’ve slowly descended into a level of hellish isolation you never wished to be in again.

As the steakhouse appeared in front of you, you perk up. Your hands automatically fidget as they run over your outfit to ensure the few wrinkles from sitting in your Uber didn’t remain when you step out in a few minutes.

A part of you hopes that Steve and all the others haven’t forgotten you.

Yet, why would they remember you?

Friendly or not, you’re still just a customer to them. A good tipper, sure, and always courteous to every employee from the bussers to the owners. You’ve never had a reason to complain about the food or the service from them, and you always tried to make sure they had no reason to complain about you.

Over the years, you’ve even gotten to know a bit about each of them. Jake’s inability to flirt despite giving him lessons whenever he served you. Nat’s intense loyalty to those she works with and her regulars, including you. Sam’s sweet but serious nature. Bucky’s strive for perfection with each dish that leaves the kitchen. Ari’s innate ability to know just what drink you need the moment you step inside (always a mocktail for you). Peter’s awkward friendliness that’s just downright infectious.

Then, there’s Steve.

Oh, you’ve learned a lot about him over the last couple of years.

He’s never been one to back down from the rowdier customers, standing firmly on the side of his staff. It’s something you’ve seen firsthand a time or two, and you’re always impressed with the way he manages to keep his anger in check. At least, inside the restaurant. You’re not unaware of the bloody knuckles he’s come back in with after escorting these obnoxious customers from his place. No doubt they deserved it, but you did worry about the consequences for him and the possibility of pressed charges.

Steve’s also been the first to lend a helping hand to those less fortunate in the neighborhood. If it’s not a free meal to help refill their empty stomachs, it’s offering them small tasks for which he handsomely pays them, even those that take less than ten minutes. He always makes sure they get enough to help through the day or even a few days. You’ve seen the kindness that comes from him and his staff, and it’s one of the many reasons your crush on him hasn’t dwindled over the years. No, it’s blossomed in ways you kinda wished it wouldn’t. There’s little hope of him ever seeing you as anything more than a valuable customer.

You’re brought out of your reverie when your Uber driver clears their throat.

Embarrassed, you quickly apologize and wrap up your business with them, stepping from the car and waving them off.

The large wooden doors leading into the steakhouse speak of an understated elegance and welcome that calls out to you. Beckons you to enter the establishment and know you’re among friends, among family.

It’s a feeling you’ve missed greatly these last several months.

Taking a breath, you pull one of the doors and step into the small entryway. The glazed inner doors don’t hide the rich interior within though they do lend some privacy to those already inside. The place is packed as usual with some guests standing or sitting on either side of the entryway, waiting for their tables.

You smile as you catch sight of a familiar face standing next to an unfamiliar one at the host stand.

Without hesitation, you open the glazed door while your smile widens into a full grin. “Well, well, well, aren’t you looking spiffier than ever, Sam?”

Sam’s head shoots up and his smile matches your own. He steps around the stand and closes the distance between the two of you. A low whistle comes out as he moves his finger in a circular motion, getting you to give him a small spin. Another whistle escapes him.

“You are a sight for sore eyes. It hasn’t been the same since we last saw you here.”

The soft reprimand isn’t missed, but you don’t hesitate when he embraces you, his forgiveness as quickly given. In your ear, he adds softly, “He hasn’t been the same.”  

Your brows furrow at this new piece of information.

Yet, you’re not given a chance to think on his words before Sam’s sweeping you away from the foyer and deeper into the steakhouse.

“Come, your table isn’t ready just yet, but I know some other people who want to see your lovely face again.”

Within a few more steps, he’s pulling out a barstool at the full bar off to the side of the steakhouse. Another friendly face turns to greet you with a big grin on his fully bearded, handsome face.

“Ari,” you say with another genuine smile for the man behind the bar.

Sweeping his longer than before locks from his face, Ari flashes you a grin of his own. “Gorgeous, long time, no see. How’ve you been?”

“Doing much better since I dropped the one-eighty anchor weighing me down.”

Ari’s grin grows. “Good riddance. For your good fortune, I have just the thing for you. One of my newest concoctions that I think you’ll enjoy. On me.”

“Oh, no, I can’t let you do that.”

You’re not allowed to go any further as Ari’s large hand settles over yours. His gaze softens into one of sheer fondness and full sincerity. “Yeah, you can. We’ve all missed you. It hasn’t been the same since you stopped coming in.”

“I’m just a customer,” you say, not fully understanding.

Ari shakes his head. A sympathetic smile takes over his original welcoming grin. “You’ve really no idea what you’ve been to all of us, have you?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer, setting about mixing various ingredients in the special station he created some time ago. You lose track of all that he’s mixing and matching until he finally pours the concoction in a glass and tops it with a tiny umbrella in your favorite color.

The explosion of flavors that come has you wiggling a happy little dance on the stool. While you can’t help thinking the mix shouldn’t work, it does in ways that are pleasant and hits you with a burst of such happiness. It’s such that you can’t help taking another long sip.

“Oh, you’re a true genius, Ari.” Your words are punctuated with a sip. “Mm, I love it. I’ll have to make this a standing order every time I come in from now on.”

Beaming, Ari taps the bar. “I’m holding you to that, gorgeous.”

Another customer ends up taking Ari away, but it’s just as well. You’re more than content to continue sipping your new favorite mocktail, one of many Ari’s presented to you. The man’s a notorious flirt, watching him rake in several tips over the next few minutes, but he’s also a connoisseur when it comes to alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

He comes back at the same time Sam reappears.

“Your table is ready, pretty lady.”

Saying a quick farewell to Ari, you take Sam’s offered elbow and allow him to lead you to what you believe is your usual table.

It’s more than a little surprising when he sweeps past the main dining area and through a hallway towards what you assume are the back offices and other personnel only rooms. He doesn’t stop until he pushes open a door and reveals a table set for two in a private room.

“What’s all this? Sam, what’s going on?”

Sam merely grins as he leads you to the table and holds out your chair for you. It’s only after he’s given you a menu you don’t need that he says, “I’m trying to make sure Bucky wins the bet this time.”

“Bet? What bet? You have a bet that concerns me?”

Rather than answer, Sam shoots you a wink and disappears through the door, closing it softly behind him.

A moment later, soft music drifts through hidden speakers. The melody is low but romantic though that does little to answer any of the questions this evening’s brought so far.

*****

Steve’s just finishing up the last of the paperwork when Bucky barrels into his office.

“She’s here, punk.” Bucky slams his door shut and gives Steve a thorough though quick once-over. “Is that what you call freshening up? I’m never going to win my money back from Sam if you keep this up.”

“Aren’t you slammed right now? What are you doing here?”

Bucky waves his hand in dismissal. “Everett’s got it for the next few minutes. I’m here to make sure you don’t mess this up a second time.”

Steve’s trying to follow his best friend. Really, he is.

Bucky just isn’t making much sense at this point.

“Mess what up? Buck—”

Another wave of Bucky’s hand has Steve going silent. Strong hands move his chair out of the way before he’s being tossed a garment bag.

“I had Nat pick this up before she clocked in. It should still fit, so hurry up and put it on. You can’t keep a beautiful woman waiting too long.”

Still not following but at least complying for the moment, Steve unzips the bag and finds a nice button-down shirt with what appear to be new pants. A suit jacket completes the look though he’s unsure why he needs such clothing.

“Nat’s got a good eye,” Bucky muses aloud as Steve pulls the ensemble from the bag. “That color will certainly impress her. Now, come on. We don’t have all night here.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve hurries to change his clothes.

If Bucky’s going to be like this, it’s easier to just go along and figure it out along the way. At least that’s been Steve’s experience every time Bucky’s been excited about something. It goes for everything from the latest technology to the ladies, and it’s been like this since the two became friends so many years ago.

The only time it really changed was the six months or so after they both discharged from the army. While they’d both seen combat, something happened to Bucky that he still refuses to discuss most days. Those were the hardest months of their friendship, but Steve refused to walk away, even when Bucky practically shoved him out the door a few times over.

Their eventual takeover of Bucky’s grandparents’ restaurant helped give them both a new direction and strengthened their friendship into something stronger than before they’d enlisted together.

His thoughts clear as he finishes putting on the shoes Bucky hands him, also in Steve’s size.

“Better?” Steve arches a brow at Bucky in question.

Another thorough once-over has Bucky reaching out and unbuttoning the top button of Steve’s shirt. A quick tug of the collar soon brings a grin to Bucky’s satisfied features. With a nod, he says, “Better. Let’s go win your girl, punk.”

*****

You aren’t left alone for long as Jake and Peter come into the room. While Jake’s carrying several items rather precariously, Peter follows him with flatware in their signature napkin wraps.

The fancy cloth’s colors have changed, you note, from a deep blue to a burgundy red. It’s a sign the steakhouse is gearing up for their fall season. Each season has its specific color as you learned from Nat some time ago. Something started by Bucky’s mom back when she and Bucky’s dad ran the restaurant.

“Hey, Pete, how’s school going?” you ask as the younger man moves out of Jake’s way.

Your gaze briefly leaves Peter’s face to take in the small crystal vase with a mini bouquet of seasonal flowers. Their signature glasses follow it on the table as well as everything else one might need at a steakhouse. The table soon overflows with all the items those in the main dining room have though the table itself is a bit too small to accommodate so much.

Peter pulls your attention back to him, saying, “I graduated a couple months ago. Classes at university aren’t bad though they’re not leaving me as much time to work as I’d like. Mr. Barnes and Mr. Rogers promoted me to server as my graduation gift. They say I earned it.”

“Oh, I have no doubt you did.” You grin at him, quite proud of him. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“It’s okay.” Something in Peter’s voice tells you it’s not really, but he’s also not going to hold it against you.

Hoping to make amends for your absence in some way, you turn to Jake. “Well, maybe I can make it up to you if Jake here doesn’t mind sharing me with you tonight. I’d love to do something for such a momentous occasion, Peter. I know how hard you’ve worked through school and in school.”

Jake nods quite enthusiastically. “Not a problem with me. Nat might complain though.”

“No complaints from me,” Nat calls from the doorway, walking past with some plates from the kitchen. “He should be joining soon. Jensen. Parker, make sure he doesn’t screw this up again.”

“We’re not miracle workers,” Jake quips.

With that, Nat’s gone though you can make out her laughter down the hall.

Turning back to Jake and Peter, you ask, “Who is he? What is he not supposed to screw up?”

The two exchange a glance before Jake clears his throat and mumbles, “Boss Man.”

It might’ve been some time since you’d been at the restaurant, but you know Jake only calls one man that name in this place.

Steve.

You’re not sure what Steve has to do with you or why he’d be joining you. After all, you only made a reservation for yourself. The thought of someone else joining you hadn’t entered your mind.

Yet, you can’t say you don’t like the idea. You, in fact, really like it. It’s been something you’ve wanted for as long as you can remember and every time you’ve come here single. If only he had made a move, then maybe you might believe that he’s interested in you now. Nothing in the few years you’ve known him has hinted that he likes or liked you the way you like him.

Before you can get too far down that rabbit hole, another voice breaks the quiet of the room.

“There’s the most beautiful doll in the world.”

You smile as Bucky enters and pulls you from your seat for a hug.

“We’ve missed you around here. My kitchen staff has suffered dearly with your absence. Lost all their inspiration without your unique combinations.”

Shaking your head, you accept his kiss on your cheek and give him one in return.

“I’m sure you keep them on their toes plenty. It is nice to be back though. I’ve missed you all, too.”

Before he lets you go, he whispers, “If the punk is too dumb to shoot his shot, I just might if it means keeping you around. You light up this place in ways it hasn’t since my ma retired.”

Tears prick at your eyes, but you blink them back.

Leave it to Bucky and the others to make you feel so special even after such a long time being gone. It’s your sincerest hope to never stop coming here, not letting anyone keep you away from somewhere you’ve always felt welcome and wanted.

“You’re very cute,” you whisper back, “but you’re not really my type.”

He chuckles, not offended in the least. It’s not the first time you two have had this conversation. It probably won’t be the last, either, which suits you just fine.

At last, he releases you from his loose hold.

“I should get back to the kitchen. Don’t need Everett or the others to burn it down.”

You shake your head fondly. “Give Curtis more credit than that. He’s a wonderful sous chef, and you’re lucky to have him. I’m glad you took my thoughts to heart where he’s concerned.”

“How could I not? You’ve never led us astray before,” Bucky says, shooting you a wink and a farewell nod. His heavy footsteps can be heard on their way back to the kitchen where he’s always felt his most calm.

When your gaze follows Bucky’s path, it soon collides with the one person you’ve been hoping to see all day.

Your smile grows once more. It’s almost certain your cheeks will be sore in the morning from all the smiling you’ve done this evening. In a breath, you say his name.

“Hey, bijou,” he says, his voice low but warm.

You do your best not to fidget, to seek out any invisible wrinkles in your outfit.

It’s taking everything in you to keep your gaze locked with his even as you take in the navy-blue suit he’s wearing. No tie and the top button unbuttoned does something for him in ways you’re wholly unprepared for. This man is too handsome by half, and he doesn’t even know it. How fair is that to any poor woman who happens upon him?

At last, you find your voice. “You look handsome. Big date?”

He doesn’t get the chance to answer as Nat walks by again. She’s wearing a big smirk when she says, “If he’s not a complete idiot, it is.”

Your confusion isn’t lessening while Steve sends a look at Nat though he relaxes a bit, his voice almost amused. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Not only are my tables handled, boss, but I have time to make sure you win your lady.”

You don’t miss the way Nat’s gaze trails to you, her smirk intact, before she returns her attention to Steve.

“Don’t mess it up,” she says, moving away, “boss.”

The offended incredulity on Steve’s face has you fighting laughter. You’ve never seen him quite so put upon and by his staff, no less. It’s not like Bucky doesn’t tease him from time to time as you’ve witnessed. This is the first time though that the rest of the staff has joined in. You honestly can’t help wanting to laugh at the spectacle, even if you don’t quite get what they’re trying to do and what it has to do with you.

Steve seems to shake himself when his gaze finds yours. His throat clears before he finally says, “You are stunning, bijou. Special occasion?”

“Yeah. Celebrating me.” You can’t help the heat that rushes into your cheeks as you say the words. They’re so much easier to consider when you think them, but saying them aloud is something else entirely. You quickly add, “I also really missed this place.”

I missed you.

You manage to keep that thought from spilling out, leaving you open for rejection.

Eager to keep that thought from coming out, you glance around the sparsely decorated room. It’s clear this wasn’t a private dining area before, but no clue exists on what it was before the others must’ve hastily redecorated this space. For what purpose, you can’t say with any certainty.

Yet, there is a hope.

The room might not have much, but it does have enough to appear something cozy, something charming. Maybe a bit more mood lighting, then the others would succeed in whatever they were creating.

When your gaze finally returns to Steve, you swallow.

He remains in the doorway, but the look he has while watching you is something you’re not wholly prepared for. One corner of his mouth is curled upwards while his eyes are soft but focused solely on you. It’s almost like he hasn’t stopped looking at you as you take in the room. That’s a heady sensation indeed for you as you haven’t experienced that ever.

Not any of your exes. Especially not Brock. Not in the way Steve’s doing anyway.

There’s wonder and perhaps longing staring back at you.

It’s that look that compels you to ask, “Would like to join me? I mean, if you don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“I’d really like that if you’re sure you don’t mind,” he says, pushing off the doorway.

You shake your head. “I don’t mind.”

*****

Main Masterlist

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Loose

steddie, omegaverse, first time, unwed mothers’ home steve

It’s 1953, Steve is 16, Nancy is older, getting ready to leave for college early. Steve only realizes because he’s throwing up every day and Carol says it’s just like Tina before she went away last year. Steve is scared, but excited, because Nancy is so smart and pretty, he knows she’ll be able to take care of them, that they’ll have such beautiful babies.

But when he tells her, she immediately says, “We can’t keep it, Steve. It’s not like I’m going to marry you, like I’ll throw away my entire future!”

Steve just cradles his belly, murmurs, “But pups are the future…”

“I’m not having pups now. Everyone knows how desperate you smell all the time, how do I even know it’s mine?”

Steve cries. “I love you, Nance.”

“No, you don’t. We’re just kids.”

Steve doesn’t know what else to do after that, he tells his mother. She yells and throws things, asking, “God! What did I do to deserve this whore for a son?”

She’s mostly calmed down by the time his father comes home from work. Together, they make plans. Steve is sent away to an unwed mothers’ home two days later.

They take away his scent tokens. He doesn’t even get to keep the clothes he brought with him, wearing the same smock dresses as all the other residents.

He befriends a fellow omega, but Chrissy is already 7 months along, so he knows she will be gone soon.

Steve writes letters, begging to be brought home; his letters go unanswered. In reality, they are never sent.

He and Chrissy cuddle, approximating sharing a nest on her slim twin bed, scenting each other. Steve marvels at the feeling of Chrissy’s baby kicking and longs for the moment he will get to feel his own baby move. It happens the day Chrissy goes into labor, and Steve cries at the feeling. Then he cries again three days later when Chrissy comes home from the hospital, her pup taken from her, never even getting to hold him.

Her parents come to take her home that weekend. She promises to write to Steve, but the home matron intercepts those letters and burns them.

Steve rarely comes out of his rooms after that. Which means he’s in there when the janitor comes in to clean. Wayne Munson can’t stand the pain these poor omegas go through. He helped a few omegas procure illegal abortions in his youth, but now he does what he can for these unwed mothers. He sneaks little treats into rooms, especially chocolate. And he listens, offers a sympathetic ear, and to send letters for them.

Over the summer, he gets his nephew, Eddie, a job in the gardens, cutting the grass. And he tells him about Steve, how much the poor boy needs a friend.

Wayne convinces Steve to get outside and get some sunshine. Eddie is quiet, a perfect gentleman, simply waving hello.

Steve waves back, can’t help smiling. “You like going to the movies?” Eddie asks.

“We’re not allowed to leave the property,” Steve answers with a shrug.

“But do you like movies? Because you’ve missed some good ones, and I thought, maybe I could tell you about them.”

“I’d like that.”

Everyday Eddie tells Steve the plot of a movie or a book. He sneaks in the funny pages so they can laugh at the jokes together.

And then one day, Steve’s gone. He had his baby, and the nurses took her away and gave her to a nice, middle class, *married* couple.

Steve’s parents come to fetch him right away, so he doesn’t even get to say goodbye to Eddie. But he leaves a scrap of paper with his address in his room, hoping Wayne will find it.

He does. Eddie’s first letter comes barely a week later. They keep up their correspondence until Steve finishes high school. Then he packs his bags, steals $5000 from his father’s safe, and gets on a greyhound bus to Eddie.

Steve’s heart is in his throat as the Greyhound bus pulls into the Forest Hills station. What if Eddie doesn’t meet him? If he came all this way for nothing. He knows he shouldn’t think that.

But he’s scared. He’s just got a suitcase, and a decent chunk of it is taken up by all the letters Eddie has written him for the past 20 months. So much ink spilt over telling Steve about going out with friends, his job at the mechanic’s garage, all his plans for their future.

Steve wrote just as many letters back, telling Eddie everything as their friendship blossomed into an honest to god romance. He shared every important thought, every hope and dream, and only a little because he didn’t have anyone else to confide in.

He was a loose omega. No one talked about where he’d gone or why, but they all knew. Or their mothers kept them in the dark, simply saying the Harrington boy wasn’t allowed over anymore and they’d do best to stay away from him at school.

It was a lonely life, Steve can’t help worrying that Eddie will abandon him too, no matter how many sweet words and declarations of love are stuffed into his suitcase.

It doesn’t matter. All his worries fly away when he sees Eddie, waiting impatiently, holding a simple bouquet of white carnations, breaking into the biggest smile when Steve gets off the bus. Steve smiles and runs over to him, laughing when Eddie picks him up by the waist and spins him around, relieved to be wearing a girdle to contain the squish on his tummy.

“I missed you,” Eddie says gently, cupping Steve’s cheek.

They haven’t kissed yet, not being ready the last time they saw each other, and now… Steve feels like he’s spilled his very soul to Eddie, but the thought of touching lips has him suddenly shy.

Not Eddie though, he stares into Steve’s eyes, his own dark pools of devotion spilling over with want and holding him in place. Then he leans in.

The kiss is soft and sweet, lips closed. Steve is the one to push for more, to delicately trace his tongue along the seam of Eddie’s lips. That’s all the permission Eddie needs, the hand still on Steve’s waist pulling him in tighter.

Steve would happily kiss all afternoon, but Eddie pulls back with a grin and says, “We’ve got an appointment to keep, Sweetheart.”

Eddie takes him to the courthouse, and they meet Wayne there as their witness. Getting married is almost too easy, and Steve can’t help crying when he finally gets to sign his name as Mrs. Steven Munson. To have a family to love him rather than see him as their deepest shame.

From there, Wayne takes them out to dinner to celebrate, insisting that the newlyweds share the most expensive dessert on the menu. Steve keeps thanking Wayne for all he’s done, the old beta waving him off and assuring that it’s what he’d do for anyone, Steve just comes with the added bonus of making his nephew happy. Eddie squeezes his shoulder, silently promising that it’s true.

Then Eddie brings Steve home to their little apartment. “We’ll start looking for someplace bigger, once you’re settled. I didn’t want to pick a place you didn’t like; I know how important it is for an omega to feel comfortable at home, like it’s the right place for your nest.”

Steve practically pounces on Eddie at that, his desires overwhelming his nerves as they hurry to get out of their clothes, then Eddie freezes, staring at Steve in his bra and panties.

He presses his legs together, moves a hand to cover his soft belly where the elasticated waistband cinches in, flesh spilling over the top, stretch marks faded, but still visible.

He feels loose, and Eddie is just staring until suddenly he’s not. His hands pull Steve’s to the side as he murmurs, “Oh, Stevie, you’re beautiful. More beautiful than I ever imagined.”

“Eddie…”

“You are! My beautiful omega. My pretty wife. I love you no matter how you look, but you are too damn pretty for a fella like me.”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to praise. “You are my handsome husband. I don’t want anyone but you.”

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs, kissing him.

Things slow down as they remove their final layers, Eddie marveling at Steve’s naked body before finally covering him and sinking into the wet heat of him.

They make love, and Steve finally understands why people call it that, all his quick liaisons with Nancy focused on her needs as she pounded into him, the alpha coming as quickly as possible, never knotting him, to keep them from getting caught.

Eddie takes his time, uses his fingers to make Steve spill again after the first round, gently rubbing him from the inside and keeping him filled until they’re ready for round two.

Within the year, they have a little yellow house on a corner, flowers in the garden and a baby in the nursery named for his great uncle. Little Wayne isn’t a replacement for the pup that was taken from him, but Steve adores finally getting to be a mother.

Steve never stops missing his first baby. In 1978, she finds him, calling the house. Steve cries silently as she tells him about herself. Her name is Cathy (he always wanted to name her Marilyn), she grew up in Chicago, and now she’s studying to be a nurse. She asks if he would like to meet her, and he instantly says yes.

Eddie holds his hand as they wait in the little restaurant for her to arrive. They don’t bring the kids, but Steve has pictures to show of Cathy’s siblings. He has an old picture of Nancy, so she can see what her father looked like. Not that she needs one; Cathy looks just like Nancy, down to her button nose.

But all that matters to Steve is the fact that he gets to finally—FINALLY—hold his baby girl.

[fictionismyreality3]

Take a Break

Warnings: hints at smut no actual smut, romance and everything that comes with it

Notes: every so often the need for this man will just suddenly pop up like gOD LET ME LIVE

The fingers you were clenching around your pen were beginning to hurt. Trying to write this essay was making you feel more like a wide eyed freshman than someone aiming to finish senior year at the top of their class. You stared aimlessly at your laptop, your eyes burning from how long you’d been looking over the work you had so far.

Which was only the title.

Just 2 more months. 2 months and then you could graduate, and you’d have your degree, and you could have your dream job and not be cramming book after book in your head, hoping you’d pick up the knowledge when really all it did was make you feel like punching your-

“Darlin’? You doing okay with your homework?” The honeyed voice of your boyfriend echoed around your dorm you, a light breeze the only warning you were given as he appeared randomly behind you.

“Yeah, Jasper. M’fine.” But just looking at his unfairly gorgeous face made you want to punch him instead of your TA.

It wasn’t fair. He got to be stupidly handsome and smart and he could easily ace your classes, probably finishing your degree in a few days with his stupid fucking vampire memory, and everything was so easy for him that you- “Honey, you’re frownin’ at me.” Jasper’s words drew you out of your little thought spiral.

“Yeah, I know, I know.. I’m sorry, I just..” You took a deep breath. “This is making want to rip my hair out.”

Jasper’s face now wore a frown mirroring your own, his gaze ever attentive, searching your face like he was looking for some hidden solution you couldn’t see. He ran his hand through your hair soothingly, his thumb brushing away the crease between your brows. The frustration and self-loathing that was radiating off you had hit him like a thick summer heat, pulling him up to your dorm in an instant.

He didn’t like to see his pretty little mate upset.

You were supposed to be happy. It was the last few months of school and he should have been feeling waves of glee and satisfaction dripping from your pores. Not this. And so, Jasper made up his mind. It wasn’t often that he used his abilities on you, it was something you’d discussed early into your relationship, something you insisted could only be a last resort kind of thing.

But the tears welling in your big eyes made his heart clench, and he found himself layering calm and relaxation over you like a blanket. “Why don’t you take a break, darlin’?”

Your head went all fuzzy, the cotton candy filling your skull making the words on your computer screen seem irrelevant. Blinking slowly, it took you a second to realize what was happening.

“No, no Jas, I have to finish this.” The words of protest sounded funny in your ears, the idea of doing anything but slumping back in your chair seemed exhausting. “No, you need to rest. You work so hard, honey.” Coaxing hands pushed you back in your seat, a sense of lethargy filling your bones as you hazily made out Jasper kneeling in front of you.

“Can’t.. I hav’to.. have..”

A Cheshire grin curled over Jaspers lips as he watched your body grow lax and pliant. Sure, adding little bouts of arousal between the relaxation would be breaking the rules you’d set, but he couldn’t have his mate overworking herself. Ghosting his hands up your legs, he pushed a little bit more bliss into you, enjoying the little whimper that slipped out.

“Don’t worry, darlin, I’m gonna take real good care of you.”

[gffa]

Final verdict on Padawan's Pride? Feel free to spoil as I'm really curious about your thoughts on this!

I braced myself before listening (knowing how much anti jedi stuff bleeds into anything star wars these days...) but I'm about an hour in and surprisingly (tentatively) enjoying it! There have been a few moments that genuinely made me laugh out loud! Like Anakin straight up going "What would *you* know about intimidation?" to poor Obi-Wan sfghdjdkdlkl & Obi-Wan insisting to Yoda that they both deserve to be punished for Anakin sneaking off even after the council basically lets them off the hook and Anakin furiously shaking his head at him to shut!! up!!! & that mini Vader tease when Anakin's getting ready for the race!!

I'm enjoying Obi-Wan's characterization in this a lot so far, and I don't want to punt Anakin off a cliff like I usually do, which is nice.

Obi-Wan still grieving for Qui-Gon and spending his nights staying up to investigate his death got me right in the feels :( Him over thinking every single thing he does with Anakin while Anakin's thinking he's basically emotionless,,, but then when Obi-Wan's trying to awkwardly apologise/connect with him later and being vulnerable, Anakin is completely uncomfortable & internally going OBI-WAN??? HAS?? FEELINGS??? ABORT!! ABORT!!! DO NOT WANT!!!

I can't give a final verdict yet--I got about an hour and a half into it, realized, okay, no, there's just too much I wanted to quote and clip out for liveblogging and Jedi Citations, so I started over and am converting to text as I go, so now I'm back up to about an hour in.

And so far I love this book! Yeah, there's a couple of moments that made me wary, like I didn't know where this was going, but honestly I think the book is doing a really, really good job of presenting the characters as having the space to actually be characters.

What I mean is, for example, Anakin saying that the Jedi Temple is a prison and he hates it--Obi-Wan's response cuts through that, (Oh, well, perhaps we should take a trip to see the younglings with the laser swords, a thing prisons are famous for.) but not at the expense of Anakin's understandable frustration. He's a bored kid who craves excitement and the rush of adventure, which is understandable! It's something he's trying to work on, he's not evil for it, it's totally reasonable and understandable, just as it's totally reasonable and understandable for Obi-Wan to point out the flaw in that statement.

But what really made me love the book is when that comment comes up later and Obi-Wan makes a joke about it, and Anakin grumbles, "I wondered when you were going to throw that in my face." and Obi-Wan smiles and says he did, too. They were bantering about it! They made a joke about it! They found it kinda funny! This is what's delightful about the book, that the feelings they both went through earlier are genuine, but they're not Direly Serious in this moment in time.

They're allowed breathing room to not be mouthpieces for a meta essay, but instead characters in a story going through things.

It's the same for Anakin being all ABORT!! ABORT!!! ABORT!!!! when Obi-Wan is having feelings at him, it's the same when Obi-Wan insists that, no, they should be punished for Anakin's mischief (when the Jedi Council basically said, okay, what we're going to do is send you on a mission, instead of any kind of punishment for either of them), it's the same when Anakin misses his mom and Tatooine.

The moments are allowed genuine emotional weight, I have such affection and heart-wrenching feelings for both Obi-Wan and Anakin here, but it's characters being given space to be characters with their own personal motivations and reasons, to have conflict between them, but both doing their best to reach out to the other, and you can see the foundations being laid for their future incredible friendship.

I'm also utterly delighted by just how many times these two are psychically connected, like they are CONSTANTLY sensing each other--Anakin sensing Obi-Wan scratching at his incoming beard is HILARIOUS, no wonder Anakin hates Obi-Wan's beard, I'd hate it, too, if it was in my mind making me itchy!

But also that they know each other, they don't have to even be looking at each other to feel what the other feels, because that's what a Force bond is--knowing someone so well that they're connected to your soul, even when you're cranky af at them.

I still have three hours of the book left to go but I've enjoyed so much already and I apologize in advance to those who are exhausted by the two hundred screenshots I'm going to be yelling about. :D

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 5

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, angst and comfort, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings: difficult conversation about the past, allusions to trauma, abuse, and body dysmorphia

wc: 1.8k

Chapter selection

I kept seeing glimpses of vigilantes after that night. Every Gothamite had a couple stories about seeing Masks, but five sightings in a week was weird, even after a villain prison break! So considering most of the major villains were behind bars or at Arkham at the time, and that most of these sightings were during the day, I was starting to get really weirded out. Signal made an amount of sense, but the rest of them were never seen during the day! And all of them just sort of standing around on rooftops and in alleys? Something was definitely up with the Gotham vigilantes. 

I mentioned it to Jason once. Only once. I had seen Nightwing and Robin whispering together in the alley behind my work. The looks on their faces when they saw me was too funny, and Nightwing's gravely “we were never here” before they grappling-hooked away had me wheezing. But the look on Jason's face told me just how unfunny he found it; for a minute I was concerned that he might try to fight them. I decided it was best to keep the sightings to myself after that; they weren't hurting anyone, most of the time they didn't even talk to me, and I didn't want him doing something stupid. Jason was so protective, and I wouldn't have him get hurt because of me.

Our relationship confused me a bit; in some ways we were moving very fast, but in others it was like we were at a standstill. Every day started with a good morning text, and ended with a good night call. Soon he was coming over every few days; sometimes we would cook together, but usually he brought takeout with him. We would eat and discuss the books we'd selected on our mall date. He would sit next to me on the couch; our knees would touch when we turned to face each other. Our hands would touch when I passed him a plate or a glass. Sometimes he would set his hand next to mine on the couch, and I'd rest my fingers over his. Every night on his way out he hovered by the door, and every night I thought he might lean in for a kiss, or a hug, or something. Instead, he'd stare for a minute, his face would turn pink and he'd mumble out a ‘g’night Doll’ and duck out. It would have been cute if it wasn't so frustrating.

I thought I was putting out all the right signals; I turned toward him when he spoke, didn't pull away when our hands touched, scooted closer when he sat next to me, leaned forward just a bit at the door. I wasn't sure if he was shy or uncomfortable, but I certainly didn't want to make it worse, so I wasn't sure how to get things moving.

Finally, after two months of this, I decided it was probably best just to ask him about it. I told him not to bring dinner, got everything to make one of his favorite comfort foods, and made sure it was ready when he arrived. His knock was quieter than usual, I almost didn't realize he had arrived. When I opened the door he had an unusually blank look on his face, like he'd put on a Halloween mask of himself.

“Hey Jay, … you alright?” I frowned slightly, moving to let him in. He hesitated before stepping inside.

“Yeah, I'm alright. How ’bout you?”

I led him to the dining room where the food was laid out. “I had a good day. I made that chili you like, and I- … are you sure you're ok? You look a bit tense.”

I had turned back to see him staring at the table, like he wasn't sure what he was looking at. “... You … cooked?”

“Um, yeah? … I know we usually cook together if we're not getting takeout, but the chili takes a few hours and I didn't think we’d want to wait until midnight to eat … is that ok?”

“... Y- yeah, that's ok … sorry, I … I thought …” he frowned, like his thoughts were a particularly complex puzzle he was trying to put together. “... I usually bring food, so … when you said not to I guess I assumed the worst.”

“Oh… oh! Did you think I didn't want to have dinner together?” He nodded awkwardly, staring at the table. “Oh Jason! I'm so sorry; I just wanted to surprise you with the chili. I love getting to eat together, promise!”

I smiled gently, holding my hand out to him. He slowly reached out and took it, squeezing a bit. “Me too… you … you're too nice to me, Doll.”

“No such thing. You feel ok now?” he nodded, smiling a little, and we sat to eat. The tension slowly eased out of his back as he ate. I tried not to stare too much, it seemed to make him a bit nervous, but I loved the look on his face when he was enjoying a meal. 

“... Jason, can I ask you something?”

“Sure?”

“... Is there a reason you haven't kissed me yet?”

He froze, looking over at me slowly. His cheeks were bright pink. “... W- was I supposed to?”

“Well, not necessarily supposed to, you don’t have to of course, but you could. … I just … Sometimes I think you will, but then it's like … you stop yourself? Is that right?”

“... I just … I don't …” he set his spoon down, chewing on his lower lip. “I'm … I don't want you to get hurt.”

I tilted my head a bit, confused. “... You're worried about hurting me?”

“Doll, I … you know who I am, right?” I nodded. “Do you … remember a few years back, I … was in the news alot?”

I nodded again; “yeah, … you were dead, and then you weren't.”

“... Yeah. I … I didn't … look like this before. … I was dead, and then I was back, and … I was suddenly in this body. I … I should be used to it by now, but I'm not. I still bump into things because I forget how big I am. I still break things when I think I'm being gentle. … I … I could seriously hurt you, and I don't want to, but … I don't know how to do any of this. I was a crime alley kid, and then I was learning to navigate life at Wayne Manor, and then I was dead. I've never done anything like this before, and I …” he took a deep breath, whispering; “I'm so worried I'm going to do something wrong, and you won't be able to forgive me…”

I slowly reached over, setting my hand next to his on the table. I hoped he’d take it, but I didn’t want to push. “... It sounds like you’ve been through a lot … too much.” He flinched a bit, looking away. “You had to figure out how to survive, and it sounds like you had to do it alone most of the time. … But you don’t have to figure this stuff out alone.”

His head jerked slightly, turning toward me but not looking up yet. “I don’t have a whole lot of experience either, but I think relationships are about figuring out life together.”

“... Most people don’t have so much they have to figure out though. You deserve better …” He whispered it, as if he was afraid I would agree with him.

I slid my fingers a bit closer to his, letting them rest against his just a bit. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t take my hand either. “I would take this with you over anything else with anyone else.”

“... What if I can’t give you what you want?”

“What I want is for us to keep spending time together. Can we do that?” He nodded. “Then nothing else matters. We’ll do things as we’re ready for them. And if we’re never ready for something, if you’re never ready, it will not matter to me nearly as much as getting to keep this. Ok?”

He nodded slowly, looking at our hands on the table. He slowly flipped his hand over, finally letting mine slide against his palm. His thumb gently stroked my knuckles. “... I still don’t know how to do this though… What if I do something wrong?”

“What kind of ‘doing something wrong’ are you worried about?”

“Then we’ll talk about it, just like this.”

“.... What if I want something you don’t?”

“You’re doing pretty good so far. And I’ll learn to read your body language for those days where you can’t find words for your thoughts. We’ll just have to be patient with each other. Ok?”

“... I’m not good at talking things out.”

“... Ok.” He continued to stare at my hand in his, running his thumb over my knuckles delicately. “... Can … next time, can you tell me if you have a surprise for me? This was really nice, but … most surprises in my life haven't been good ones.”

I nodded. “Of course. No more surprises without some kind of warning.”

“I’d like that too.” His eyes slowly met mine, and for a brief moment I saw through the imposing man to the little boy he used to be; he wanted to love and be loved, wanted the easy touches and simple intimacies of normal life. But something between childhood and adulthood had obviously gone very, very wrong, and he had locked away those wishes to protect himself. The look in his eyes, like a dying man in the desert stumbling upon an oasis, broke my heart; being nervous in a new relationship was to be expected, but this was something else. Someone had hurt him, and if I ever found out who … I wasn’t entirely sure what I’d do, but I had a feeling I would end that day in handcuffs.

 “Thanks ... I … I do want to kiss you, Doll …”

As quick as I saw it, that broken look in his eyes was replaced by a small glimmer of hope, and he slowly brought my knuckles to his lips. I could feel my face heating up as I watched his face; he seemed to be looking for something in my eyes.

“... M- my turn?”

He slowly nodded, letting me lean forward a bit. I guided his hand to my lips and, starting with the pinky, pressed a gentle kiss to the second knuckle of each finger. Jason stared me down, and with each kiss his face got pinker and pinker. When I placed the final kiss on his thumb his lips parted, releasing an almost inaudible high pitched whine.

In the next instant he had one hand in mine, and the other pressed firmly to his face to hide his bright red cheeks. I chuckled softly, offering him a coy smile; “that was a very pretty sound~”

Divider by: @saradika 

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60  @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a

[chaifootsteps]

How I imagine the SH writing room

Crew: and then Blitzø the gang to LA to track down Loona—

Vivzie: And stolas is there.

Crew: What?

Vivzie: And Stolas is there. For Stolitz.

Crew: But Viv we have a concept written of blitzø and Loona. Stolas just had the entire musical premier all about him, two songs about Blitzø, episode 4 is about him, and he has three more music numbers about Blitzø on the way. The fans will notice. We can’t just shoehorn in your favouri—

Vivzie: Stolas is there too or I’m pulling the plug.

Crew: (sigh) okay fine. Stolas tags along.

Vivzie: And it’s his daughter who ran away. Oh and then he treats everyone like dirt especially the imps, and abuses them viciously and angrily. Make sure to have a shot where he bursts into the office and terrifies the main four and they beg for mercy for upsetting his day. He strangles one imp to near death and Blitzø has a panic attack about having to contact him in the first place. Also Loona beats Blitzø to bloody bruises.

Crew: What?? Why?!

Vivzie: It pleases me.

Crew: Jesus Viv.

Vivzie: He’s not there. And I want two scenes of blitzø finding stolas really hot. Yknow, for the fans.

Crew: Yes we know…okay fine. Shove a blush and a smile in a random scene for Viv or something. Gonna feel a bit weird in the middle of abuse though. Anyways IMP tracks down the runaway. Who is Via now, not Loona. They have a touching scene where Blitzø apologises, and we were going to have Loona apologise here but I guess stolas can give his apology for—

Vivzie: Stolas does not apologise.

Crew: But you said he was being terrible?

Vivzie: Because that pleases me.

Crew: You said he strangled a guy.

Vivzie: Well because it’s funny. I like watching stolas hurt people. And the imp should have gotten out of the way. If Stolas apologises then we have to admit he did something wro—(gags) wrongg. And my fans might think they’re allowed to not like me-I mean him.

Crew: okay…and does Loona apologise?

Vivzie: No have her kick blitzø down and have him apologise for making her angry enough to beat him up. Then Loona tells that brat, Stolas is the best dad in hell but make it less blatant than that. Octavia apologises to her dad too. Make sure stolas and Blitzø are holding hands.

Crew: Okay…how did we even get here.

Vivzie: And I want the start of the episode to open with Stolas talking about space with cool meteor visuals.

Crew: More Stolas in Space? Fine…god i cant even remember what the original premise was… Um Viv? With this Blitzø battering and his several mental breakdowns, and now the retcon that the book deal was started by his flirting, and the anti blitzø party coming up. Did Blitzø piss in your house plants or something?

Vivzie: (scribbling stolitz smut) did you say something?

I feel like this is probably barely exaggerated from the reality.

[arliedraws]

Do you think Regulus defected because of Kreacher or because he stopped believing in blood supremancy? Do you think he might have faked his death?

I’m rubbing my grubby lil hands together.

Let’s just proceed with the understanding that my opinion is based on my interpretation of the books. It is an interpretation which means—who fuckin’ knows if I’m right.

The short answer is— yes, sort of Kreacher, kind of? And to the second question, no.

I think Regulus was an arrogant, proud, and entitled little boy who was overshadowed by his brother. He was weak, and he wanted power. I see him as toadying after Sirius up until Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor. I think Regulus doesn’t cut ties with Sirius until Regulus secures his place in Slytherin (in case he needs Sirius’s protection). After that, he rejects Sirius entirely. Going out of his way to mock Sirius at school and tattle on him at home.

Regulus is also extremely vocal in his prejudice against Muggles and Muggleborns, using the slur Mudblood constantly and parroting his parents’ beliefs. He collects articles about Voldemort. He really looks up to Voldemort who is going to protect their way of life. After all, Muggleborns aren’t really full wizards anyway and they’re degrading and sullying pureblood lines.

But Regulus will always play second fiddle to Sirius. He’s not stupid—he knows his parents love Sirius more, particularly his mother. No one cares what Regulus does—they only care what Sirius does. For ages, he tries to get their attention, but they don’t care. So fine, Regulus can find someone else who will appreciate him. He joins the Death Eaters, but the only reason he’s allowed into the ranks is because of Bellatrix’s influence. Even so, he’s not in the inner circle. At all. And he’s tasked with really shitty things, and he’s serving the Dark Lord—he’s not getting any sort of attention or appreciation at all. He doesn’t have the stomach for torturing or killing—I believe Sirius when he said that Regulus was soft.

The truth is, Regulus knows that to gain any sort of power, he has to make his way into Voldemort’s inner circle. When Voldemort requests the use of a house-elf, he volunteers Kreacher. Regulus is fairly suspicious of Voldemort’s actions and he’s been piecing together the Horcrux thing, so when Kreacher tells him about the cave, Regulus is certain that he’s right about Voldemort. But he’s also exceptionally offended. It’s a fucking insult! Kreacher belongs to the Blacks—doesn’t Voldemort know who the Blacks are? Considering Lucius Malfoy’s utmost fury at losing Dobby and nearly cursing Harry inside the fucking school, I would bet that harming someone’s house-elf is extremely offensive (I mean, not in the way that it should be offensive).

Also, Regulus loves Kreacher. He loves the only person who seems to care for him (even if that person is his fucking slave and bound to serve him…).

But Regulus doesn’t give a damn about Muggles or Muggleborns. Voldemort has insulted Regulus by not including him in the inner circle, and he’s insulted the Black family by treating Kreacher like shit. So he decides to get his revenge by destroying the Horcrux…and we know how well that goes…

The funny thing is, I would bet Voldemort didn’t want Regulus at all—I think he wanted Sirius. If Voldemort had Sirius’s loyalty, Sirius would’ve been his most dangerous Death Eater (or, at least he would have given Bellatrix a run for her money), but instead, Voldemort was stuck with Regulus. And I doubt he hardly noticed when Regulus stopped showing up. Even Bellatrix might be like, “Oh, shit, I forgot about my little cousin. Anyone seen him lately?” (This is mostly because it would be funny.)

Okay, but to your question—did he fake his death? NO! But how fucking hilarious if he did?

“Everyone’s gonna be so sad I’m dead!” and then… no one really notices…

But five years ago, I started writing an AU where he DOES survive and fucks off to Greece to hide with Great Aunt Cassiopeia who demands, in return for her discretion, that he hunt down treasures for her mass collection. And maybe he fucks Charlie Weasley… and somewhere down the line becomes a halfway decent person after learning some fucking humility.

[sulumuns-dootah]

Hello again! I hope you are well! If you don’t mind I would like to request some headcanons please! Could I get the Gehenna and Avisos demons with an MC who laughs at the dumbest shit? (Basically they’re that one bitch who will laugh at a video of a bowl falling down the stairs— definitely not based on me at all) If Gehenna and Avisos are too much just Gehenna is fine. Thank you so much! ❤️

WHB demons s/ an MC who laughs at the dumbest stuff

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

A/N: Hi! Hope you're doing well too ^^ Also I literally do the same thing so this was really fun to write :D

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Satan

Depending on his moood he'll either laugh with you or kick you

You will most likely have to explain what exactly is funny about the thing you're laughing at

But still, if he doesn't get it, he'll laugh anyway

Sitri

Poor confused baby

Doesn't get it, but for him it's better to have you laugh than have you cry

Sitri's the type to just smile politely and and wait for you to stop so you two can get back to what you were doing before that

Amy

"Huh? Okay..?"

Amy's the type to get angry that he doesn't get it

And once you explain why it's funny, he'll just hate it cuz it's so dumb

Still, there could be worse things you could be laughing at like Sitri's jokes

Leraye

"Oh? Ahaha...!"

Leraye does this too

He'll probably be the one pointing the funny thing to you

A real mutually beneficial relationship

Paimon

Another confused baby

But, instead of a polite smile like Sitri, Paimon grins

If it's something happening irl, they'll record/take pictue of it so other demons online can have a good laugh too

Belial

Loves the sound of your voice

Also, Jiyu's gonna laugh too and it's a compeltely different laugh from Belial

Belial will even bring up the thing you laughed at when he wants to hear your laugh again

Astaroth

"I'm afraid you'll have to provide me with an explanation, Y/N."

Won't get it even if you spend too long to explain it

But at least now he knows what type of humor you like

Too bad since he doesn't get it, there's no way for him to use it to his advantage

Zagan

Just as always, his expression is hard to read

But there is an underlying smirk

Zagan is kinda hard to come up with something for him

I geniunely don't think he'd even acknowledge the situation

Beelzebub

If you thought you're easy to make laugh, I present you the king of Abyssos

This man chuckles to himself for no reason

So if you actually have a reason to laugh, he's laughing along with you

Bael

Another demon, who doesn't really get it

But hey, at least you're a nice ray of sunshine to breakup all that paperwork

You light up the room, y'know?

Stolas

Just like Amy will get angry he doesn't get it

Might even escalate to threatening you with his gun

Protip: "You're too young to understand" is the worst thing to say in this situation and will definitelly result in death

Naberius

Yeah, Nabe is another one who just politely smiles

His type of humor are elaborate anecdotes from books

To be fair, Naberius doesn't really even get memes so good luck joking with him in general

Amon

He's most likely asleep, but if you wake him up with your laugh, he'll laugh along too

This simple humor is right up his alley

It doesn't require much brainwork which is kinda cool too

[matrixbearer2024]

Continuation to this post since it'll be a multi-chaptered thing and I love world building, also more Stan Twins because I love them and they're funny. Next chapter will be reader's turn because YUHHHHH-

I (Learned To) Love You [Stanford Pines x Reader]

Chapter 2: Chained Freedom

The Stan twins return home and Ford overhears some devastating news, Stanley comforts him and they both hatch a game plan.

The sky was beginning to darken by the time the twins had both decided to begin the trek home. Slinging the black book bag over his shoulder, Ford watched the reds and yellows of the horizon bleed indigos and blues; the sun barely peeked over the edge of the water now. The sight never failed to amaze, the stars and moon beginning to make an appearance as well in the retreating light and advancing darkness.

It felt oddly poetic this time, like the closing of a chapter and the beginning of a new one. Stanford always did have a fondness for the vast expanse of space and it’s heavenly bodies. There was just so much to find, to learn, and his curiosity never was truly satisfied since young.

“I think I’ll miss this.”

“The sunset or the sea? Hopefully not this whole place because it’s a dump!”

Stanley got a light punch to the shoulder from his brother in amused retaliation, of course there wasn’t truly any bite in the action– he returned it with another laugh. Ford playfully rolled his eyes as he began to walk up the beach in the direction to the pawnshop.

“You know what I meant; and hey–”

Stanford looked behind at his twin who raised an eyebrow at him, it was a good thing they were always close; he could only hope it would stay that way despite the circumstances and despite the eventual distance. For a duo that shared faces, it was a bit hilarious in retrospect how jarringly different they were. 

Yet, they coexisted and thrived like no one else.

“Last one home does the dirty laundry!”

“NO WAY!”

Stanley raced after his sibling as they both booked it down the pavement, cheerful laughter from the two brothers ringing the quiet and empty paths with only the dim hue of the glowing streetlamps to guide them. Stanford already had a head start, not that it helped much when it was against his athletic twin. They bantered and joked during the race home, eventually walking through the door to the pawnshop full of smiles and cheer.

Oh if only it would have lasted.

“First Stanley and now Stanford?! What the hell Filbrick?!”

Came their mother’s shrill cry in the kitchen alongside the clattering of what was possibly random cookware; the noise had sobered up the twins from their merriment immediately. What had they just come back to? 

Sharing a look with his brother, Ford looked up the stairway with trepid hesitation. Going up right now would only interrupt their parents, and by the sounds of it they seemed to be at odds again. It’s happened plenty of times over the course of their childhood, but never to the degree that things were being thrown around. It was always just yelling unless they were involved.

Recalling those moments of ‘discipline’ still sent shivers down his spine.

“I needed a guarantee! The boy has promise but I just couldn’t refuse this offer!”

“So you sold him off?! First Stanley and now him! I can’t believe you!”

Stanford couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his stomach dropped to the floor in an instant. His palms grew clammy, clutching the strap of his book bag, the dread was overpowering. It was getting harder to breathe, his lungs burning and not from the exertion earlier; it was like someone up and sat on his chest. Had his father really done this…? What about his dreams? His education? His career? 

It was like in the dean’s office all over again.

Stanley just pulled his brother into a tight hug, attempting to mumble comforting words to snap Ford out of it. Any assurances would be empty at this point in time, he flinched when the loud clattering or pots and pans rang out once more. He’d long since accepted his situation, but for it to happen to Ford? It didn’t make sense.

“It’s just a marriage, besides– we’re lucky that someone actually wants Ford as a husband! Have you seen him?!”

Stanley just tuned his parents out at this point, guiding his brother to sit outside the shop with him so they didn’t have to listen anymore to the screaming and the cursing. As special as his twin was in their father’s eyes, he was still considered a freak because of his hands. It wasn’t ever something Stan could wrap his head around, it didn’t make Ford any less capable or incredible. 

Still, people always had to criticise something.

“Why…? I thought I was good enough…”

“You are Sixer! Don’t even–”

“AND STILL THIS HAPPENED!”

Stanford couldn’t help the panic and the frustration that exploded out of him at that moment, digging his hands into his hair in an attempt to ground himself from the rapid pace he was spiralling. It was hard to focus on any singular thing when everything seemed to crumble and disintegrate right in front of him until nothing was left.

Stanley couldn’t help the pity that swelled in his chest for his brother, saying nothing and only giving the other a tight hug. Graduation was rolling around and time was running out. They really couldn’t catch a break now could they? Not today, not tomorrow, not ever? Was that even possible?

Right now, they really needed a distraction.

“Let’s get outta here. I’m sure Ma won’t mind if we’re a little late to dinner today.”

Ford just let his brother drag him around at that point, his thoughts nothing short of a jumbled mess that he couldn’t make heads or tails of. Everything he’d hoped, dreamed of, worked for, practically gone; just like that. 

His hands balled into fists, sorrow bled into frustration– to anger, his life hadn’t even started and his wings were already clipped. Even if he did get farther from here, there was no telling how much distance that would even be. Chances are… not that much. All because of a girl he’d never met, to a family who gave his greedy old man a fat check.

Someone who effectively ruined his life without even being in it!

The loud chime of a pinball machine snapped Ford out of whatever destructive and resentful trainwreck his thoughts were heading towards, hastily looking around himself to find that he was in an arcade. The bright lights and equally obnoxious noises were irritating but distracting, better than nothing the young adolescent supposed.

It didn’t take too long for him to find Stanley by the pinball machines equally frustrated but not for the same reasons. Ford crossed his arms with a blank expression as he watched his brother curse at the machine for who knows what reason, it wasn’t a game that was particularly interesting to him; especially given how much of it was based on chance and not skill.

“What? I was this close to getting the high score!”

“Would you mind explaining why we’re randomly here?”

“Here or home, pick your poison Sixer.”

Stanford didn’t have a retort to that and chose to ignore his twin’s sarcastic tone, both of them were clearly on edge and irate; even if it wasn’t directly at each other. He silently moved to stand next to the machine and actually observe what was going on inside it as his brother put another quarter in to play the game.

The flashing lights were no short of obnoxious as they lit up and flashed at random moments. Ford cringed as another bumper danced in neon hues, at this point the game might as well come with a warning for epilepsy. Stanley didn’t seem to mind however, happily cheering every now and again when the metal pinball would repeatedly raise his score by bumping into more of the obstacles set for it. 

What kind of mind-numbing nonsense was this?

“Stop glaring at the machine, would ya? You’re going to kill my lucky streak!”

Stan narrowed his eyes at his brother when he made an incoherent but disgruntled noise, seriously? Couldn’t he lighten up for even a little while? It would do both of them some degree of good if he just stopped being a hardass when anything pissed him off.

“Look, nothing’s happened yet so could you stop acting like it’s the end of the world already?”

“Not yet, my world hasn’t ended yet. But it’s getting there, holy Moses it’s getting there!”

Ford couldn’t help the sarcasm that flooded off him in droves, there was nobody angrier at his situation than he was so this couldn’t be helped. The brunette was speeding through the five stages of grief at this point for something that had yet to happen, a situation that he also acknowledged he knew very little about as well.

His twin didn’t appreciate the attitude however, returning a deep and annoyed frown at the comment.

“It’s not that bad, the family’s gotta be loaded for Paw to have agreed. You wouldn’t have to work, you’d be loaded once you’re hitched!”

Sadly, that wasn’t the right response either and Ford just grew more irritated; his hands gesticulating wildly and preventing Stan from shoving more quarters into the machine so they could seriously talk. For once, the loud noise around them was a good thing. Otherwise who knows what kind of trouble they would be stirring from this argument.

“Stan, I like working? I like studying? I want to have a notable career and get my name out there?? I can’t do that if I’m tied down like a trophy husband!”

“Oh come on, it’s not like whoever your fiance is would chain you down like a dog.”

“You don’t know that! I don’t know that! For all I know they picked me because I’m like one of those exotic pets that you put on display! Then it’s just: ‘Oh this is my husband, he has six fingers–’ and I’m supposed to be okay with that?!”

Ford got a punch to the shoulder from Stanley for that comment, he knew he deserved it– but that didn’t really placate the man. It wasn’t helping that he was directing his anger at anything and everything aside from the real cause of it. He grumbled out somewhat of an apology before leaning against the side of the machine just as Stanley continued to play.

“It’s not over yet. You still have that project right? If you get admitted into West Coast Tech there’s no way Paw would stop you.”

“Stan, who knows when or where I’ll end up because of the arrangement? Would it even matter if I got in anymore?”

Stanley was genuinely considering giving his twin a good wallop by now, letting out a tired sigh and just focusing on the pinball machine and his game. The scores didn’t matter, the game didn’t really matter, he just needed something to distract his growing irritation and not vent it towards Stanford; even if the latter wasn’t really doing the same.

Ford wasn’t entirely fond of the arcade anyway, too much was going on in too little space; but a distraction was a distraction.

“You have a way out. Maybe take that chance instead of always thinking that only the worst will happen.”

It was only when his twin gestured to the pinball’s plunger that Stanford noticed his apprehension dying down. He always pinned himself to be cynical and nihilistic but there was always a point it would cross into pessimism; an intersection of sorts. The issue was getting out of it.

The machine once again rang a tune to play another round, the plunger’s knob flashing in reds and yellows as Stanley beckoned him to pull it back. The game itself was all about chances, navigating risk and doing what you could amidst the uncertainty. Was this intentional?

Ha, and everyone calls him dramatic.

“You brought me here on purpose.”

“Huh? I’ve got no clue what you’re on about”

Ford rolled his eyes and pulled on the knob, launching the metal pinball into whatever sporadic path his luck drove it to all around the machine. He couldn’t tell if his brother really meant to make the correlation or if it was just a coincidence, either way– he lucked out. 

As Stanley cheered at seeing the highscore rack up on the machine’s leaderboard, his twin was busy already formulating a plan. They didn’t need to tell their old man that they knew what was going on, and frankly it was probably for the best that they feigned ignorance if it wasn’t something he was planning to tell them. It would be fine if things got rough, they had each other to rely on anyway. 

It was always them against the world wasn’t it?

“Hey Poindexter, wanna try beating the top one on this?”

“Sure, it couldn't hurt.”

So it begins, game freaking on!

Fic is also here on Ao3

[magewritesstories]

[ ᴊᴇꜱꜱ ᴍᴀʀɪᴀɴᴏ ] ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴘᴇᴀᴛ ɪᴛꜱᴇʟꜰ

summary: jess moves back to stars hollow to open a new branch of truncheon books in his hometown, and tries not to murder the girl living in the apartment above him and the town enjoys watching another grumpy business owner fall in love with a bubbly inn manager. TW: none note: in love with him and not even in a funny way, i need a jess

“Are you sure this is the place you want?” Andrew asked for what felt like the millionth time. The bookstore owner gave the 25-year-old a nervous stare as he signed the last few papers.

“Yes, Andrew, for the millionth time, this is the place.” Jess sighed, he couldn’t blame the man for his hesitance, he hadn’t exactly left a good impression on the people of Stars Hollow while living there.

Out of all the places he’d imagined settling down, Stars Hollow, Connecticut was incredibly low on the list. 

But he couldn’t deny the fact that it was a good commerce town, people passed through on business or on their way to Hartford all the time. So when his friends asked him where they should open a new branch of their bookstore, it was the first place he thought of.

Once all the paperwork was finished, Jess had spent the week driving back-and-forth from Philadelphia to Stars Hollow and everything was finally done. 

Andrew took papers, “Okay, I’ll get these to Kirk—” He moved to grab his bags— “Have you met Y/N yet?”

Jess shook his head, Y/N the mysterious person that lived in the apartment above the bookstore, “Nope, haven’t run into her yet.” Andrew nodded, “Well, I better get going.”

Once the older man had left, Jess turned to the bookstore. There were cardboard boxes everywhere, and all the bookshelves had been emptied along with the walls, where the hanging bookshelves had made place for paintings.

Jess started to unload the first box of books when Luke walked in, with you tailing behind him.

“Oh come on, don’t lie,” You insisted, “It is so a different brand.”

The older man sighed, maneuvering his way through the mounds of boxes. “Y/N, for the last time: I’ve been using the same brand of coffee for the past twenty years.”

You crossed your arms, “Liar, I know you did something different with it.”

“Well fine, you got me, I put drugs in yours hoping they would shut you up,” Luke deadpanned, handing Jess a paper bag, “Here’s your lunch.”

You turned to him as well, “Oh, you must be Jess!” You exclaimed excitedly, “I’m Y/N, I live upstairs.”

You stretched out your hand for him to shake. Jess stared at you, it was 9 in the morning, how were you so upbeat already?

“This is the part where you take my hand and tell me it’s nice to meet me,” You whisper jokingly. “Jess Mariano,” He replied, shaking your hand as you give him a bright smile.

“Don’t you have places to be?” Luke questioned, staring at you. You raise an eyebrow at him, “What’re you talking about?”

The older man sighed exasperatedly, “The Inn.” Your E/C went wide in realisation, “Michel’s going to kill me!”

Without another word, you ran towards the door, almost tripping over a box of paintings on your way out, “Sorry!” You excused, and quite frankly Jess wasn’t sure if you were talking to the box or him.

“Wow,” He breathed as he watched you made your way down the street, only to stop halfway to pet Babette’s cat before resuming your run.

Luke nodded, a small smile on his face, “Yeah, that girl’s a storm with skin,” He replied, “So, you need any help with these boxes?”

Jess groaned as Voulez-Vous played loudly upstairs. He couldn’t say anything about it yet, though, per Stars Hollow rules you were allowed to play music as loud as you wanted to until 10 PM.

When Toxic started playing he had enough. He made his way up the creaky stairs. You’d left your door open, and Jess took it as a sign to go inside. 

You were standing on your couch, singing along to the song, using your spatula as a mic. Jess watched you jump off and spin around, before finally coming to a halt in front of him.

“Oh, Jess, hi!” You grinned, not even slightly flustered, “Can I help you?” 

“Yes, you can, by turning that god awful music down.”

Your eyes went wide, “Shit, is it ten already?” He shook his head, “No, you just have bad taste in music.”

You laughed, “Right, you’re the kind of guy that listens exclusively to Metallica and Iron Maiden,” You teased, “Hey, I’m making cookies, you want some?  They’re almost done.”

“What I want is for you to turn down the music,” He deadpanned, arms crossed over his chest. You shrugged, “‘Kay, Roommate.” You reached for the stereo and turned down the music.

“Are you my roommate, ‘cause you’re not the landlord, you rent the place too, but you don’t sleep here— or your not supposed to, I’ve seen you sleeping on the couch— but your not my neighbour either,” You rambled, smiling at him.

“Just keep the music down,” He grumbled, “And if you have to play it at max volume, play some decent music.”

An hour after your little encounter, you came skipping down the steps, a plate of cookies in hand. “You never told me whether you wanted the cookies or not,” You said, putting the plate down, “So I brought them anyway.”

The black-haired man stared between the plate of cookies and your bright smile in confusion. Finally he rolled his chair away from the desk and grabbed something out of the drawer near him.

“Here,” He said, handing you a CD he’d burned himself, “Some acceptable music I think you’d like.”

You inspected the plastic case and grinned, “Thank you.” With one last sunbeam of a smile you turned around and practically skipped up the steps to you apartement.