#he's such a gremlin i fucking adore him

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

The reason I say he's my bias:

The reason he's actually my bias:

cr. Kim taehyungie태태

[appri-dot]

Nothing more isolating then finding this guy cute as hell

[nyssasorbit]

My wifi went out, so here's some progress on Dokugai's gremlin fankids I've been thinking about forever

[starlooove]

If u “like” Tim Drake but refuse to not only acknowledge that he victim blamed tf outta Jason, but can’t also see it as a fucked up thing he did and negative aspect of his character, who are you really looking for bc it’s not Tim 💀

[sunnami]

❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞

summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.

pairing/s: poly!marauders + lily x reader.

tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.

note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.

“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.” 

You blink. 

“Get the fuck out of my room!” 

Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making. 

At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls. 

“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!” 

“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze.  Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!” 

“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly. 

You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.” 

“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.” 

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say. 

Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies. 

“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”  

Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.” 

“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—” 

“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.” 

Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you. 

(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”) 

“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—” 

“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.” 

You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?” 

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.” 

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.” 

ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)

“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home. 

Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)  

“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that. 

(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”) 

You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.” 

Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze. 

Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.” 

“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much. 

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile. 

Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.” 

“I know.” Harry grins. 

“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.” 

“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally. 

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.” 

(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)  

The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow. 

You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers. 

“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.” 

“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.” 

You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”

James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you. 

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast. 

“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”

(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.) 

Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?” 

James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.” 

Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you. 

“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.” 

“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze. 

“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.” 

“Oi!” 

Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.” 

James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.” 

“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary. 

“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.” 

(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”) 

“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.” 

“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.” 

Harry wants to barf, actually.

After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.

“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.

“Away from you, Potter!” 

And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”

Harry chortles.

“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?” 

He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically. 

“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”

It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name. 

“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now. 

“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?” 

James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”

Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.” 

Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right? 

Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.” 

“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily. 

Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.” 

Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.” 

“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable. 

“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced. 

“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear. 

“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.” 

Harry’s eye twitches. 

IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.” 

Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly. 

Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.” 

The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?” 

Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.” 

James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.” 

“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.” 

“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading. 

“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands. 

“In your dreams!” You shrill. 

You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.” 

Harry nods. “Is it time already?” 

“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.” 

“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?” 

Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?” 

“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.” 

Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?” 

Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?” 

“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat. 

You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.” 

Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this. 

“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes. 

To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.” 

“One date, then.” 

You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?” 

Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.” 

“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.” 

“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you. 

“And I want to—” 

“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.” 

You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—” 

“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.  

“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration. 

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases. 

“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words. 

“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.” 

“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.” 

“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.

(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.) 

“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance. 

“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.” 

“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm. 

“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.” 

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.” 

(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.” 

“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth. 

“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it. 

He falls in love.) 

FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.

“Oi.” 

The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?” 

“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.” 

Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.” 

You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.” 

Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.” 

Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

[bluebean09]

We went to see my stepmom’s sister today and…

I want you to meet Picky

Bonus: Jessy, his unimpressed sister

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"i feel kinda ugly" ft. the monster trio!

in which the biggest dumbasses in the whole of sea comfort you when you fall prey to your shitty thoughts ft. luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader set-up: you happened to utter out what you thought of yourself and these men are here to prove you wrong. (kind of a serious set of headcanons, but ill try being funny when i can) warnings: nsfw; somnophilia if you squint, oral f!receiving and m!recieving, boobjob, creampie; MDNI (thankyou very much)

luffy:

my fav little gremlin's in town ^^

- "i feel kinda ugly" you had muttered it under your breath, words dissolving into the chilly night air. you were laying on your shared bed, staring up at the uneventful ceiling as he snored lightly next to you. - he was supposed to be asleep, atleast that's what you had thought (how can you expect him to stay up after eating like 500kg of meat??) - but he stirs awake almost instantly, turning his head to look at your face. he stifles a yawn, mumbling through a half-lidded gaze, "why would you say that?" - "why would i say what?" you smile, waving it off as if it had just been a wayward thought - but lord knows the amount of nights you've tossed and turned, thinking about all the ways you were incompetent for this man who lay in front of you. you weren't pretty like nami or robin, you weren't quick-witted like them, god, what did he see in you? - "who said you were ugly?" his face is scrunched up, the crease b/w his eyebrows deepening "luffy let it g-" "no. who said it?" his violent undertone doesn't go unnoticed, as if he's threatening to take care of whoever made you miserable - you don't have the heart to tell him it's yourself. you convinced yourself you weren't pretty enough. - and so, you stay silent - but his arms are pulling you impossibly close. closer and closer till your chest is pressed flushed against his and you're staring at him confused - "luf-" "that's bullshit." there's conviction in his words that make a dull warmth cascade over your face and neck. - he is pressing his forehead against yours, hands gripping onto you tightly as if letting his grip loosen means he loses this argument. "you're beautiful. you're smart and kind and beautiful." - at this point, youre about to cry - but he inhales deeply, then says "not to mention you smell like a fruit. thats tasty." - yeah the tears dried up. they fucked off and went to sahara desert. - youre currently fighting off a smile because what the actual fuck prompted this man to say that??? and more importantly what fruit do you smell like? "what fruit do i smell like?" "mhm" he's deep in thought, "tangerines" "luffy everyone smells like tangerine. it's because of nami's tangerine trees." he shrugged, "still pretty tasty" - and now youre kissing his adorably stupid face. your fingers tug on the hair on his nape lightly and he whines into the kiss, sucking on your bottom lip as he does so - "you're so pretty" and so he's kissing your neck, nibbling and grazing lazily - two seconds later, he fell asleep. - like actually fell asleep. his mouth is on your neck, open mouthed and half-nibbling and he's snoring through it all. (i mean, what did you expect from someone who had eaten 500kg of meat??) - issokay though cause the second he wakes up, his fingers are hiking one of your legs over his hip. the same fingers then slip inside the loose folds of your shorts, playing with your pretty pussy till you stir awake, moaning his name - you're the one being toyed with and he's the one whispering and whining like he's gonna explode "does that feel good, ngh-" a grin, "god... fuck, cum for me, pretty" - he continues till your velvety walls are spasming against his fast-paced fingers and your teeth are sinking into his shoulder, muffling shrieks this early in the morning - "you're gorgeous" he whispers through a grin - you choose to believe him

zoro:

myhusband ^^

- this was the last thing you wanted. truly. - zoro had just stepped out of the shower with nothing but a towel losely tied around his waist (this was after he had succesfully ignored you and trained for like an eternity) - water droplets clung onto his broad figure, slowly trailing downwards as they glided over every ridge and scar - you probably should have pulled him onto the bed with you, straddled his hips and asked him to stop ignoring you to go spend time with his swords - you probably should have. - instead, you lay stomach-down on your bed, your head softly cradled beneath your arms and against the pillow - "what's up with you?" he asks, unfazed to your tactics "nothing" you mumble half-heartedly he gave you a double over, "you sure? you're sulking more than usual" "i-" you sigh, "i just idk... i just feel kinda ugly?" - this motherfucker laughs, "yeah i mean you kinda are" - he didn't know you were serious. he didn't know till you were softly crying against the linen sheets, your body shivering against your own cries and staggered breaths - "yn?" there's panic in his voice, "yn, baby, are you crying?! fUCK IM SORRY!" - he didn't know you were serious. i mean how wAS HE SUPPOSED TO KNOW?! HE THOUGHT YOU WERE BEING DRAMATIC FOR NO REASON LIKE ALWAYS - "hey" you've never heard the swordsman speak so softly as he does now. he's pulling you up softly, placing you in his lap almost mechanically, "yn, baby-" - he lets you sob into his chest for as long as you need to, his fingers are rubbing gentle patterns into your back, arms and waist. - once you've calm down, his hand tips your face lightly towards him. he silently wipes the tears away. - he doesn't say anything and somehow his silence brings more comfort than his words could. - "don't think stupid shit" his palm is resting on your face, pouring warmth across the stretch of your cheek, "you're gorgeous." "but you said im ugly" you lean into his touch "i also said i will return back nami's loans with full interest" a small smile tugs on his lips, "sometimes even i say stupid shit" "so, you don't think i'm ugly?" - his response comes in the way of leaning in and kissing you, one hand on your cheek as the other kneads your waist. - he's laying you down, hovering over you easily and pressing hot kisses to your neck and jawline. sucking, biting till you can feel bruises blossoming across your skin. his knee presses against your core, blinding you with delicious jolts " his agile fingers are hiking up your skirt, letting it pool around your waist, "let me show you how pretty you are, baby" - so, he's pulling your panties with his teeth, he's licking a clean stripe on your inner thigh, kissing and bruising the sensitive skin "and you're dripping wet already? want me to fuck you that bad, eh?" - he's running his tongue over your clit, tracing figures as he alternates between your drooling hole and the bundle of nerves - and so obviously you're now cumming on his face, letting your juices coat his lips, thighs shaking as he gives you kitten licks to help you ride your orgasm - he looks up at you; your hairline damp with sweat, eyes closed in bliss, a warm hue of red sprinkled across your face, your chest rising and falling with each labored breath "i've never seen someone prettier" he declares from between the plush of your thighs, smiling up at you like it was the first time he had truly seen you - you choose to believe him

sanji:

mhm, a fine specimen ^^

- you don't keep secrets from sanji. - or more like you physically cannot. - this man is your greatest cheerleader, there's no way you can hide something from him no matter how squeamish it makes you to say out loud - so after noticing your off behaviour the entire evening and pestering you for twenty minutes after dinner, he had successfully got you to say what you were thinking out loud "sweetheart, darling, the apple of my eye. what is wrong?" you shake your head again, "nothing." "yn, my love, 'fess up" - he said it so sweetly you had to fess up. there was no choice. - "i just feel a bit bad about myself today" "bad? how so?" "i just... just feel kinda ugly" - he looks like he's going into cardiac arrest (he probably is) cause there's no way you, his girlfriend, literally the prettiest girl in all four seas just said that out loud - honestly, i can just see this man tearing up and blaming himself "is it me, mon chéri? did i do something wrong?" tears are clinging on dangerously onto his lasheline "what?! no!" "i am sorry. i love you so much. i must have said something wrong because you're so gorgeous, so earth-shatteringly beautiful-" - honestly you had to calm this bitch down first, explaining to him that he was perfect in every way he can be, it's probably just your own fault - but he refuses to accept it as your fault. - this man, this beautiful, amazing man has to now cling onto you and pepper kisses onto you face like there's no tomorrow. like everytime you try to speak, he wont let you cause he needs to ramble about how absolutely gorgeous you are - he spoke for so long that you are now convinced that to the world you may not be the prettiest woman alive but to this blonde man (with a great ass), you mean everything - his kisses blended into soft whispers and whimpers as you forced him to rest against the headboard and straddled his hips - you can feel his poking erection through his dress slacks as you kiss him senseless with only one goal in mind, to let him know he did nothing wrong - you nudge his slacks downwards till his cock hits you lightly in your face - your lips encircle his tip, sucking on it lightly as your hand moves up and down his length, languid and slow "yn~" his voice is a choked whisper, "you- are killing me. faster, please darling." - now you're catching his dick between your tits, massaging his length with the softness of your breasts as your tongue laps up at his tip, licking any pre-cum that escapes him "fuck fuck fuck fu-" his moans are an incoherent ramble, "i'm gon' cum, fuck you feel- so ngh- good" - he comes on your tits and face and almost releases again when he sees you scoop up the sticky fluid from the corner of your lips and lick it away - looking at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes, "yn, you are the most gorgeous woman i have seen." - you choose to believe him

a/n: honestly cannot thank you guys for how much you'be blown up these posts in the past few days, so here, have a little treat m.list

[luin-no-koibito]

Can you guess which tag corresponds to each selfship???

describe your self ship(s) as badly as possible in the tags !!

(Stole from a anti)

[bibluebutterfly]

Seeing a lot of people start hate on Helluva and how it portrays Greed compared to Lust And Gluttony, so let’s get into my 2 cents. This may be controversial, but I do think Helluva portrayed the sins well and here’s why.

Yes, on the outside, Mammon is definitely the most asshole of the sins we’ve seen so far, but this DOESN’T mean that Bee or even Ozzie are angels.

First of all, Bee ONLY stopped Blitz because he was indulging for PRIDE, not for Gluttony. With all of her other guests, she was more than okay with letting them get complete shit faced to a destructive degree.

As for Ozzie, it’s been proven via “Ozzie’s” that he okay with cheating, going so far as to praise Stolas for it. He’s aware Stolas risked everything for the affair, and praised him for doing so. He straight up encourages people to be as kinky and as nasty as they possibly can. Basically for him, if it’s consensual, go wild.

(Not to mention, he’s in a healthy, loving GAY relationship with his jester. While not inherently bad, it’s more than enough to make a deeply traditional Christian faint. Which does kind of seem to be the goal for the show.)

In the end: Ozzie and Bee are just as destructive as Mammon is. HOWEVER, they are so in a way where it’s not as obvious and they’re not as bad because of it.

Because they only fully indulge in Lust and Gluttony 110%, they’re still able to be relatively decent people because completely indulging in those sins doesn’t inherently make you an asshole. It can make you hella harmful, especially mixed with other sins, but on their own they’re somewhat manageable. (I say somewhat because again: cheating and health destruction are a thing).

Also it should be noted that despite being nice people Bee and Ozzie are still HORRIBLE influences. Like if they’re those people who your parents will disapprove of you being friends with.

But besides that, you can be lustful and gluttonous to 110% and still be a nice person to be around. Not a good person, but a nice one.

HOWEVER, you cannot be greedy to the max and be a nice person.

Here’s the thing; Mam, Bee, and Oz don’t have limits to their own sins. All 3 are still destructive as hell, it’s just that Bee and Oz’s sins allow them to have healthy relationships DESPITE that.

Bee, for all her faults, is a wild party girl. However, her gluttonous nature also allows her to completely indulge in love and affection, hence why she can have such an adorable relationship with Tex.

Ozzie is equally as wild but is also horny and kinky as fuck. But it works because Fizz is just as crazy in bed as he is, and arguably even crazier in general. Fizz is a kinky little gremlin who not only makes Ozzie laugh, but more importantly can keep up with him. That’s part of what allows them to be as happy and wholesome as they are.

Mammon however, cannot be at his sin 110% and keep a relationship. It’s just not possible and I honestly don’t think he wants a relationship with someone anyway, as that means he’d have to share something with another person, which he is simply not capable of doing.

In the end, all the sins are destructive. That’s just fact. However, because of their specific sins (and the fact that they don’t mix with the others), some are able to hold up healthier lifestyles and relationships than others.

[runninriot]

keep your pretty face out of trouble

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 20

prompt: "I didn't know where else to go." | rated: T | wc: 2.596 | cw: mentions of blood, injuries, homophobia | tags: Steve Harrington is a mess, and so is his face, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Friends to Lovers | also on ao3

Eddie didn’t really know what to expect when he entered the Henderson’s home. Dustin had been quite vague on the phone, didn’t say much at all to be honest, nothing of substance at least. Nothing that could’ve prepared Eddie for what he finds when he steps into the living room where, next to his little pal, he finds none other than Steve Harrington sitting on the couch.

And as if that isn’t confusing enough, what’s really concerning is the way he looks.

His face is fucked. Beaten, bruised, mush. There is blood on his lower lip and dripping out from his nose into a tissue that’s already soaked.

Dustin is sitting by his side, holding what seems to be a bag of frozen peas against the older boy’s neck.

   “Dustin, what the fu-“

He doesn’t get to finish his question because Steve suddenly looks up, eyes wide in shock like he’s just now becoming aware of Eddie’s presence, before turning to Dustin with an expression that isn’t at all hard to read.

    What’s he doing here?

Dustin lets go of the frozen goods in order to hold both hands up defensively.

   “Hey, don’t look at me like that! I didn’t know what to do, so I called Eddie.”

   “You shouldn’t have done that. I’m fine.”

   “You are very clearly not fine, Steve!”

They’re doing this weird but kinda adorable staring competition they often do when they’re arguing and it would be amusing to watch if it weren’t for whatever the fuck is going on with Steve’s face.

Dustin doesn’t waver, holds Steve’s disapproving gaze seemingly unimpressed but Eddie could hear the tremble in his voice, knows Dustin is only barely keeping it together.

Always trying to keep up a brave face, Dustin is, but Eddie knows his vulnerable side, too. Maybe that’s why Dustin called him instead of Wheeler or any of the other Gremlins when Steve- what? Appeared on his doorstep all beat-up? Or where they out together when it happened? Is Dustin hurt, too?

Eddie shakes himself out of his thoughts, lets his eyes wander between the two, both hands on his hips like he’s seen Steve do whenever he’s trying to make a point.

   “Alright, enough! Can someone please tell me what happened?” Eddie asks as he steps closer, watching Steve’s shoulders tense immediately.

   “I told you, I’m fine. I just- I didn’t know where else to go! Robin’s not home and-”

Okay, ouch! Eddie feels slightly offended. Steve could’ve come to him instead of-

Nevermind. There are bigger problems at hand.

   “It was stupid, I’m sorry. I’ll be out of your hair.”

Steve makes an attempt to stand up but his body betrays him as soon as he’s on his feet, swaying slightly into Eddie’s direction, who catches him instinctively, steadies him with a hand on his arm.

   “Woah there, big boy! You’re gonna sit your ass back down for me, okay?”

Eddie can sense that Steve wants to put up a fight but thankfully, he doesn’t. Instead, he lets Eddie guide him back down.

   “Some assholes did this to him,” Dustin finally says. “I don’t know who but Steve said he got into a fight.”

   “I only came here because it was closer than my place,” Steve grumbles, obviously regretting his decision now.

   “You scared the shit out of me, Steve! So I called Eddie because- well, I don’t know. I thought maybe he could help talk some sense into you. You need to go to the hospital! Or a doctor, I don’t care but someone’s gotta take care of that.” Dustin says, pointing at the mess that is Steve’s face.

   “I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine, really. See, it already stopped bleeding.”

Steve retrieves the once-white-now-red tissue to prove that the bleeding has stopped, which it has. But Eddie can see in Dustin’s eyes that the boy is still not convinced enough to let him off the hook.

   “Let me have a look?” Eddie gently takes hold of Steve’s chin to tilt his head up, feels his courage falter for a split-second when Steve’s pupils suddenly dilate and he can see by the bob of his Adam’s apple, that he has to swallow down hard.

    God, even with his face bloody and bruised Steve is fucking gorgeous. It’s really not fair, if you asked Eddie. That guy is beyond anything he could ever wish to-

    No, no. Focus, Munson.

   “Let’s see if we gotta be worried about your pretty face being blemished by a broken nose, ey?” Eddie jokes just to cover his own nervousness.

   “How would you know if it’s broken? You’re not a doctor.” Dustin protests, rightfully sceptical about Eddie’s ability to come up with a valid diagnosis.

   “Ah, see, when you’ve had your nose broken several times, you kinda know what to look for,” Eddie replies nonchalantly as he examines the swelling around Steve’s nose, ignoring the sad, kind of pitying look in Steve’s eyes at his statement.

   “I think you’re good, Harrington. Still straight and beautiful as ever. It’ll hurt for a few days but you’ll live,” Eddie says with a wink, hesitating to let go of his face even if there’s no need to hold him still anymore.

For a moment, their eyes are locked in on each other, both staring wide-eyed and kind of lost in some spellbound haze that makes it impossible for either of them to look away.

Unfortunately – or rather, lucky for him – Dustin’s voice breaks through the static crackling in Eddie’s ears and brings him back to reality.

   “I don’t know Eddie. Are you sure it’s not broken?”

Eddie finally lets go of Steve, not without an instant feeling of regret at the loss of contact, and turns to the younger boy.

   “I’m sure, Dusty. Believe me, when you’ve been beat up as often as I have, you quickly learn to know the difference between injuries that’ll hurt like a bitch but are otherwise harmless, and injuries that need medical attention.”

It does look worse than it is, thankfully. And with a bit of ice and some rest, Steve will be back on his feet in no time.

This, however, brings Eddie back to wondering what even got Steve in the state he’s currently in.

   “Wanna tell me who did this? What happened?”

Steve looks down at his hands, fumbling with an invisible thread on his neat jeans.

   “I, uh- got into a fight with some guys because they were talking shit about, uh-“

His eyes dart up to Eddie, just for the flicker of a moment, looking almost ashamed with that light blush creeping up from his cheeks to his ears, before he finds his voice again.

“About someone I care a lot about. They were being mean, called them some disgusting shit, made assumptions about them without knowing them. They-“ Steve looks at Dustin, obviously contemplating whether to say out loud what’s on his mind.

   “They said these things like, how someone should teach them a lesson. To, uh, to set them straight.”

Steve swallows thickly, and the shuddering inhale tells Eddie that he’s trying his best not to break. That whatever it is he’s trying to say really gets to him.

Eddie is confused; he has a feeling that there’s more to Steve’s words. Like, maybe he doesn’t want to alert Dustin with the harsh reality of what they really meant.

    ‘Teach them a lesson’, the words echo in Eddie’s mind, ‘Set them straight.’

And suddenly, it dawns on him.

Suddenly, he understands what Steve is trying to say.

Did they- this is about Robin, right? Steve said they were talking shit about someone he cares a lot about.

Did these fuckers, whoever they might be, threaten to harm her for being... a lesbian? Is that it? It must be, right? It’s the only thing that makes sense, would explain why he’s all choked-up about it because everyone knows how deep their friendship is. How much Steve cares for Robin.

Fucking small-minded small-town dickheads and their outdated view on how things should be. God, Eddie hates it. Hates everything about them being stuck in a town where people still have to be afraid of openly showing who they are and who they love.

It’s why he never had a relationship. Why he flees to Indy and beyond on the weekends, whenever he’s desperate enough. He’ll never find love as long as he’s stuck here – for multiple reasons.

Robin is so much braver than him. Said fuck it a few weeks ago when she finally found the courage to ask out that girl she’s had a crush on forever. It was the talk of town the next day – ‘Did you hear that? Someone saw that Buckley girl kiss another girl! Can you believe that? What a disgrace. Displaying this filthy behaviour without any shame.’

Fucking assholes.

Thankfully, like with most gossip, people eventually lost interest and moved on to whatever next thing it was they found to deflect from their own miserable lives. But the damage had already been done. Ever since, Robin has been walking around with a big, fat, neon sign on her forehead, saying ‘I’m queer and proud’ – which should be liberating, a cause for celebration, but it’s not.

Not here, anyway.

   “Eddie?”

The warmth of Steve’s palm on his arm brings him back.

   “Huh? What? What is it?”

   “You, uh... kinda zoned out there for a moment. Are you okay?”

This startles a laugh out of him. Of course, Steve would ask him if he’s okay, when he’s the one with a swollen face. Typical.

   “Yeah, sorry. It’s just- tell me who.”

   “What?”

   “Who where those guys. I’m feeling petty and I haven’t been in a fight for a while.”

Eddie wiggles his brows at Steve and grins, makes it sound like a joke. But Steve must see the rage in his eyes, must sense that he means it because there’s suddenly so much worry in his eyes, the kind of honest concern that makes Eddie’s heart melt.

   “I don’t- No, Eddie. I won’t tell you. You need to stay away from those guys! That’s what they’d want and I don’t want anything to happen to you!”

Steve seems frantic, like the mere thought of Eddie getting into a fight with them is making him panic.

But why would he-

      “They’re a bunch of assholes! And I told them, if they ever dare to lay a hand on you, they’ll wish they’d finish what they started today. I will not let some intolerant bigots hurt you!”

    Oh.

This has never been about Robin, has it?

They’ve been talking shit about Eddie.

And Steve-

   “Why would you get into a fight over me?!”

Eddie jumps off the sofa, both hands in his hair, tugging roughly at his own curls.

   “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?” Steve replies sounding perplexed. “I care about you, Eddie! And it’s not okay that these- these fuckers think that only because you’re- only because you are who you are, it’s okay to treat you like that. Doesn’t matter if it’s behind your back or to your face!”

Steve takes a deep breath trying to calm his voice.

“To say shit like they’re going to do- bad things to you? How can I stand there and listen to that and do nothing?”

This is too much for Eddie. It’s too much for so many reasons, most of which he’s not ready to explain.

The worst and most important one, though, is that Steve’s face is covered in bruises because he was protecting Eddie. Steve got into a fight because someone threatened to hurt Eddie and in return, got hurt because of him.

   “Well, look where that got you! You don’t have to always be the hero, Steve.” It’s not meant as an insult, although it must sound like one.

“I’m used to people talking shit about me. I can live with that.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something but Eddie beats him to it.

   “What I can’t live with, is knowing that you could’ve gotten seriously injured because you were trying to defend me.”

Dustin stays uncharacteristically quiet the whole time, just alternates his gaze between Steve and Eddie, stunned into silence by whatever weird scene it is that’s unravelling before his eyes.

Eddie can’t blame him, can’t really wrap his head around any of it himself.

Why are they shouting? What are they even arguing about? And why the fuck is Steve suddenly so close? Why is he holding his hands? And why does he look at him like he-

   “Steve, I really appreciate you looking out for me, okay? But I can’t take it to see you get hurt. You’re face is too pretty to be covered in blood.”

Eddie huffs out a tentative laugh and to his relief, Steve does too, but not without rolling his eyes in fake annoyance at Eddie’s cheesy line.

   “Are you guys gonna make out now?”

They both turn around only to find Dustin standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face.

   “Because as much I love you, I think there are some things my innocent eyes do not have to see.”

   “Shut up you little shit!” Eddie scolds him but does so with a smile on his lips because-

Because Dustin might be onto something here. Or at least that’s what it feels like. Because Steve still hasn’t let go of his hands. And while Eddie is trying his best not to completely drown in Steve’s eyes by looking at Dustin instead, he can still feel Steve’s eyes on him.

And when he turns back, Steve has this fond, almost loving look on his face; an expression so soft not even the swollen nose or the dried blood can take away from the beauty of it.

Just for a moment, Eddie allows himself to dream. To wonder if maybe he can find love in this godforsaken town after all. Thinks, foolishly, that if Robin can have her happy ending, maybe he can, too.

   “For real, guys. The tension is killing me. Can you either speed this up or take it somewhere else because I can’t take it.”

   “Get used to it, shithead,” Steve says without looking at him, eyes still trained on Eddie.

   “Yeah, Dusty. Get used to it because I’m gonna be so annoying once your babysitter’s face is all healed up,” Eddie teasingly agrees, ignoring Dustin’s defeated sigh.

   “Does that mean you want to kiss me?” Steve asks a little breathless.

Eddie leans closer to him and whispers “Want nothing more. But I wouldn’t want our first kiss to hurt so it’s gotta wait. And you need to keep your pretty face out of trouble. Understood?”

He doesn’t know where this sudden rush of bravery is coming from but he takes it, needs it because-

   “I might be a little bit in love with you, Stevie. So I need you take better care of yourself, okay? I can’t let you get hurt.”

Somewhere in the room, Dustin is making fake gagging noises but Eddie’s focus is set on Steve who looks like he’s in trance, like he can’t believe what Eddie just told him.

   “I will, promise,” he finally says and sure, Eddie might have hoped for a little love confession in return for his own but he doesn’t need Steve to say it to know that this isn’t a one-sided crush.

And he’ll make damn sure Steve keeps his promise because he really wants that kiss as soon as possible.

[thereweredragonshere]

We are NOT brushing over that little reunion scene between Hiccup and his dad in Portrait of Hiccup as a Buff Young man

LOOK HOW HAPPY HE IS!!! AHHHH

And the just the whole scene of him flinging him around in the air C’MON WE ALL KNOW HICCUP SECRETLY LOVED IT

AND THE HANDS AND THE PHYSICAL AFFECTION FOR TOUCH STARVED LITTLE GREMLIN BOY ARAGAHAGAHGRRRRR

AND THIS. THIS IS MY SECOND FAVOURITE SCREEN GRAB OF ALL TIME. THEY ARE SO ADORABLE.

I HAVE AN ACTUAL ISSUE WITH PARENT CHILD RELATIONSHIPS. IT IS ACTUALLY THE CUTEDT THING EVER. AND STOICK IS FUCKING KNEELING DOWN AND HE’S STILL TALLER THAN HICCUP

[suntoru]

─ ✰ INVISIBLE STRING.

─ SYNOPSIS: the three times you coincidentally bump into toji fushiguro and the one time you find out it was intentional.

─ WARNINGS: 3.4k words!! not proofread, swearing, fluff, ooc toji?, mentions of a dildo, mild violence, creepy perv (not toji), BABY MEGSSS, idk i started yapping halfway through

— AUTHOR’S NOTE: GUYS I LOVE TOJI. I LOVE HIS SLUTTY WAIST. disclaimer i’m only like 6 episodes into jjk i apologize if the characterization is off!

— the first time your ever meet toji fushiguro is on a friday at 8PM. you don’t expect to be so downbad for somebody you just met, much less in a grocery store in your pajamas, but here you are. and fuck, he’s hot. he’s clad in a snug, black compression shirt that outlines his biceps so nicely and enticingly low-waisted white sweatpants that fall deliciously on his hips… compared to him, you look like a hobo in your ratty old pajamas. scratching your head in embarrassment, you instantly look away before he catches you staring— and thank god he speaks up, his voice interrupting your less-than-innocent thoughts.

“think that’s mine,” he motions casually to the black-haired cherub curled up in your arms. the little one’s eyes, swollen and red from the relentless wailing for his papa just seconds earlier now lights up immediately, adoration clear in his eyes. his tiny little arms outstretches towards toji in an adorable plea to be held. rolling his eyes, toji relents, scooping megumi up with one arm and securing him in his hold.

“cute kid.” you coo, ruffling the doe-eyed toddler’s hair affectionately.

“yeah… cute little brat,” he mutters in a low voice. “where’d you find him?” you giggle softly. “was in the toy section playing, noticed he was alone, then started to cry… be more careful next time, okay, ’gumi?” the child nods his head shyly, burying his face in his daddy’s chest. you wish that was you don’t u u horny degenerate /lh

“swear to god, he won’t listen to me when i tell him stuff. and he gets sad too easily, cries when he isn’t allowed to buy whatever he wants…” toji scoffs, pinching megumi’s cheek and a small whine escapes the toddler, effectively tugging at your heartstrings. what a cute little family.

“the mama must be real pretty; cause he certainly doesn’t take after his grumpy papa.” you lightheartedly joke, allowing the black-haired baby to toy with your fingers. “the mom’s out of the picture.” toji nonchalantly reveals, an unexpected hush falling over the conversation.

wide-eyed, you realize the awkwardness that your comment had caused. “i-i’m so sorry!! i didn’t mean to—” you stammer, feeling a pang of regret. “‘t's fine, shit happens.” he shrugs his shoulders ever so casually, dispelling the tension in the air. “it’s just me and this little gremlin here,” he adds, and despite his earlier insults towards the adorable baby, it’s crystal clear he loves him— even if he won’t readily admit it out loud. being a single dad… you can’t even imagine it. must be so hard…

you're so caught up in your feels that you don’t even notice when toji takes a peek into your grocery cart, a snicker escaping him. momentarily confused, you follow his gaze and then it hits you— oh no. what you originally came here to do, the reason you didn’t even have time to dress properly was because it was the last discount day for– looking down in horror, placed proudly, right on top of your cart, is an obnoxiously bright pink silicone dick.

the realization hits you like a ton of bricks, and a flush of embarrassment colors your cheeks as you fumble for words. “i-i… um… c-can explain!!” seemingly enjoying your flusteredness, he loses no time teasing you. "someone's clearly single." he remarks, a smug look plastered on his face. he snatches it out of your cart, dangling the object just out of reach– this bastard!! capturing megumi's attention, the innocent curiosity in his little mind interprets the funny-looking object as a potential toy, prompting him to reach out with grabby hands.

in a state of panic, you swiftly smack it out of toji’s hands, but you fail to realize there’s somebody in your way– you accidentally hit a balding, middle aged man square in the face with a dildo. a fucking dildo. letting out an audible gasp, you quickly turn away as the now angry man swivels around, searching for the perpetrator angrily. your efforts to stay inconspicuous prove futile as the 6'2 sorcerer can't contain his laughter, earning a few odd stares from shoppers passing by.

"it's not funny," you whine, feeling the heat creeping up to your face as he wipes away a tear, still clutching his stomach. he grins tauntingly, wholeheartedly amused.

"nah, that shit’s hilarious."

— “mama, mama!!” coincidence seems to strike once more, for your second encounter with toji fushiguro comes about a week later. you’re minding your own business in a neighborhood park, in the middle of texting your friend when little megumi joyfully latches himself onto your leg, gurgling happily, effectively scaring the shit out of you. safe to say, you're surprised— mommy? you'd met him once for thirty minutes and he's imprinted on you.

but you can't find it in yourself to be mad; he's practically looking at you with stars in his eyes. so you cave, crouching down to meet his height, patting his teeny tiny head gently.

"hi megs!! where's dada?" you question, and sure enough, the adorable little cherub points enthusiastically to his father, who happens to be engaged in conversation with two women. they’re giggling obnoxiously, stroking his biceps and being overly touchy, and he seems to be enjoying it. in an instant, all your former attraction seems to dissipate in an instant. an annoyed huff escapes you— of course, he's a manwhore. you should've known, he seems like just the type, but letting your kid leave your sight was just completely unacceptable.

feeling pissed, you can practically feel a vein bulge in your forehead. you’re going to knock some sense into that thick skull of his. scooping up megumi, you march up to toji, making sure to be extra cautious while holding him in your arms. what was he thinking? is it like this all the time? him getting distracted by a pair of tits and forgetting about his own son? seriously, this man needs to get his act together.

as soon as he’s in range, your free hand swiftly makes contact with the back of toji's head, letting out a loud ‘thwack’ noise on impact. he lets out a painful groan. "the fuck?" toji curses, rubbing the back of his head. unfazed, you return his sass with a stern expression.

"the hell do you think you're doing? talking to girls instead of taking care of your kid? no wonder 'gumi wanders off all the time, you didn't even notice he went missing! stop thinking with your dick all the time and start thinking with your head!!" you scold the older man as he scoffs. "me? you're one to talk, buying a rubber cock for your lonely ass. who the hell are you to judge my parenting?"

you're about to retaliate when the two girls exchange a glance, scowling in annoyance as they side-eye both you and toji. "y'know, if you were married, you could've just said so in the beginning." one of the girls pipes up as the other nods her head. "yeah, stop wasting our time loser, lets go." and before he can respond, they storm off dramatically. he rolls his eyes at them, sticking up his middle finger at their backs.

“whatever. they were bitches anyways. and you’re a real killjoy.” you flick his forehead lightly. “the fact that i, a complete random stranger, takes better care of this kid than you is quite concerning.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” he mumbles snarkily, attempting to snatch megumi away from you. he can’t believe his eyes when the chubby little baby starts to tear up, clutching onto you tighter and repeating babbles of ‘mama.’ “megumi, get down from there!” toji hisses. “listen, ya little brat, that ain’t your momma.” glaring, you attempt to hand back the stubborn ‘brat’ to his father, but to your (and his) dismay, he continues to latch onto you with an iron grip. if you didn’t know any better, with how megumi was acting, you’d think toji had never dealt with a child before. all he did was glare daggers at the both of you; the longer the interaction went on, the more irritated he got. a scolding glare towards his son, then the stranger.

“for the last time, stop clinging to that woman! she isn’t your mother.” the poor baby’s eyes glass over, about to burst into tears as you rock him in your arms, letting out a huff in annoyance. “calm your whining. you think he’s going to listen if all you do is yell?”

“fine. i’ll just… pick him up then.” toji grumbled, looking annoyed as he bent over to retrieve his son from your arms. as soon as he picked him up, megumi began wiggling and trying to get away from his father. “stop that.” toji’s face was filled with annoyance as his son’s stubby little fingers wrap around your shirt tightly. he tries his best to be gentle as he pries the baby away from you, yet the little boy began to cry and reach for you. it was clear the youngest fushiguro had developed a strong attachment to you, the stranger who helped him once before.

“‘gumi…” you coo in the softest voice you can manage, pinching his cheek softly. “listen to dada, okay? i’ll buy you ice cream if you’re good.” at the sound of a frozen treat, he instantly stops crying and settles into his papa’s arms, gurgling happily. toji looks at you in utter shock; he lost count of the amount of times he had tried so talk some sense into his little son— but just once from some random stranger, he chooses to listen. the 6’2 sorcerer sighs in defeat, sending his baby another scowl.

clearly, megumi has no sense of loyalty.

— “well, well, well… you again. i’m starting to think you’re jus’ following me now.” for the third time, you guessed it: toji fushiguro. at this point, it was becoming harder to dismiss these encounters as mere coincidences; had the universe suddenly decide to play matchmaker?

“huh?” you scoff, glancing up from your notepad. of course, he had to choose this exact coffee shop to stroll into while you were on your shift. “i work here.” he eyes you cockily, emanating more of that stupidly hot confidence that somehow makes your heart beat just a little faster than it should.

“be honest— you really just got the job cause you heard i’d be here today.” deadpanning, you roll your eyes. he can’t be serious; he’s such a manchild. “yes, because you’re such a celebrity. where’s megs?” you question, noticing the absence of the adorable baby usually accompanied by his obnoxiously sexy father.

“daycare.” he responds with a lazy drawl, his voice a low, resonant hum that sent shivers down your spine. he seemed engrossed with picking something at his nails, the nonchalant demeanor accentuating the sculpted lines of his features. "you know, it's a shame. you seem a lot less charming without a certain little one running around." you yawn, deliberately trying to piss him off.

as if challenging you, he straightens up, piercing grey eyes locked onto yours. leaning forward onto the counter, his proximity sparks something in your core— was he always this pretty? no wonder he’s popular. his lips look so damn kissable. (you wonder how they’d feel against your own.) your heartbeat picks up as you find yourself unable to keep eye contact, pupils darting elsewhere. you really hope your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel.

“…u-um. your order?” he grins cockily, pulling back at your surrender. “an espresso. and here, the extra dollar's for you.” he casually tosses you a crumpled wad of cash, and at a glance, worth just a little over one dollar and fifty cents. …you can already sense a burgeoning headache destined to plague you by the end of the day.

“…just— whatever. keep the money. it’s on the house.” you groan, escaping from the dumbass man to the back to retrieve the coffee beans. as you scour the shelves stocked with coffee supplies, you attempt to find the espresso beans.

you thoughts, however, are interrupted when your coworker suddenly pops up, prompting an involuntary shriek and effectively scaring the shit out of you. she beams brightly, enthusiasm radiating from her as she clutches onto your arm, ignoring your reaction completely.

“that customer is just my type!! tall, handsome, hot… mind switching with me, please, please, pleeeeeease??” she begs, her eyes wide with desperation and in her best attempt to coax you. you end up relenting pretty easily— after all, you owe her for the numerous overtime hours she's covered for you, but you can't ignore the unmistakable pang of jealousy tugging at your heart. what’s wrong with you? you shouldn’t care, not in the slightest. shouldn't. he's a random stranger who you just so happened to bump into three times now. toji fushiguro is a womanizer, a horrendous father, and an arrogantly cocky man. but for some reason, you find yourself growing… attached.

your eyes follow your coworker, parading out of the storage room with her lips freshly glossed and a flirty smile on her face. a pang of annoyance prickles at you; you're sure he'll absolutely eat her up.

determined to distance yourself from the sight, you trudge over to the adjacent cash register, taking over for your fellow coworker's customer. a friendly smile graces the face of the person in front of you.

"hi." he smiles brightly, greeting you in a friendly manner. "can i get an iced americano?" you nod, ringing his order up. his request is met with a nod from you, and you smoothly proceed to ring up his order. the clinking of the coffee machine acts as a backdrop to the interaction, your mind momentarily distracted by the lingering sensation of unease in your stomach. once done, you serve the ice-cold drink to the customer, who happily takes it, eyes gleaming in satisfaction before winking charmingly.

"and an extra tip for the pretty barista." he says, his tone suggestive as he hands you a bill. is he... really hitting on you? the air thickens with an uncomfortable tension, and you mutter a somewhat awkward thanks, his smile widens, and he leans in, making you feel slightly uneasy.

"isn't this the part where you give me your number?" he teases, leaving a silent pause that hangs in the air. "uhm... i'm really sorry, but... uh-" before you can finish, he boldly grabs one of your hands from across the counter, getting a little too close for comfort. "no need to say anything, cutie. our lips can do the talking." the fuck is wrong with this creep?

you attempt to snatch your hand back, but his grip is like iron. panic starts to set in as beads of sweat form on your forehead. what are you supposed to do in this situation?

just as the tension becomes nearly unbearable, a large hand intervenes, firmly gripping the weirdo's collar. a hand you so thankfully recognize intervenes just in the nick of time. toji's voice, dripping with venom, cuts through the charged atmosphere.

"why the fuck are you touching my spouse?" his snarl, coupled with an ice-cold glare, sends shivers down even your spine. a plausible lie, and extremely believeable. the smaller man stutters, his eyes searching frantically for an escape from toji's wrath. "i-i, um..." he stutters, eyes looking frantically for help. without a moment's hesitation, toji forcefully drops the intruder to the floor, his intense glare bearing down on the now-submissive figure.

"next time, i'll make sure you pay for it." he warns with a chilling undertone, his voice resonating with a quiet but unmistakable threat.

— seven days after the incident, you find solace in a quaint bookstore, its ambiance offering a quiet and peaceful haven for your studying. you're deep in thought, productivity at an all time high. however, the tranquility is soon disrupted by the unmistakable bickering of a child, no older than two, engaged in what seems like a standoff with a fully grown adult. who in the hell would argue with a kid...?

suspiciously, you stand up, leaving your laptop unattended for a split second to take a peek into the book aisle where the sound was coming from. and just as you suspected; there stands toji fushiguro. you suppress a giggle seeing him all crouched over, a pissy expression on his face.

"ya little rat, go give this to y/n. mama. mama, y'hear?" he hisses under his breath, his words an amusing blend of authority and exasperation. he attempts to give a rose to the stubborn little cherub, who violently shakes his head in refusal. holding a book almost as big as himself, he stomps his tiny foot, lifting the curious george volume even higher, adorned with a big pout that adds an extra layer of adorableness to the scene. "i'll read to you later, so just-"

"well, well, well… you again. i’m starting to think you’re just following me now."

you quip, echoing the words he tossed your way exactly a week ago. a smug grin stretches across your face, savoring the sweet taste of his embarrassment. he whirls around, momentarily losing his cool, a curse escaping his lips as he throws his head back. is that a hint of pink dusting his cheeks? you can't help but revel in delight. and as if on cue, megumi beams at you, his small frame waddling towards you with unbridled joy as you scoop him up with ease.

"mama!!" he cheers as you ruffle his hair playfully before turning your attention back to the other 6'2 baby towering over you. "looks to me like you're the obsessed stalker." you tease, a genuine grin stretching across your face. wiping a mock tear from your eye, you catch a glimpse of toji's eye roll, his attempt to feign composure failing as a trace of a pout plays on his lips.

"shuttup," he groans, rubbing the back of his head. he attempts to use this banter as a distraction, sneakily concealing the gift behind his back. but you're not one to be outplayed.

"not so fast..." you grin, skillfully snatching the crimson rose from his grasp before he can offer any protest. it's undeniably pretty, and you find yourself admiring it, a soft smile playing on your lips. you glance back at toji who, now hands tucked into his pockets, deliberately avoids eye contact. "never knew you were much of a charmer." you playfully jest, twirling the delicate flower between your fingers as a teasing smile graces your lips.

"i'm not." he shrugs, an air of nonchalance surrounding him. you set megumi down, allowing him to gleefully grab another dr. seuss picture book.

"awww, so then am i just special?" you snicker, lashes fluttering softly, the lighthearted banter echoing through the quiet aisles of the bookstore. perhaps a little too loudly, as an employee, with an air of rudeness, suggests that all three of you should be a little more discreet before you're escorted out.

apologizing profusely, you struggle to contain your laughter as the employee, irritated by the disturbance, makes a dramatic exit. unbeknownst to him, however, a janitor quietly mops the floors right behind him— resulting in an unfortunate slip and a rather audible rip as his pants succumb to the unforeseen mishap. your face turns pink, and you bite your lip, desperately trying to stifle your laughter to avoid drawing further attention and the risk of being kicked out.

you manage to slap toji's mouth shut, a preemptive measure against the impending witch cackle that could escape if left unchecked. the employee shoots both of you one last glare, clearly unimpressed, before huffing and storming off in a hasty retreat.

exchanging a knowing glance with toji, you finally peel your hand off his mouth, the quiet snickering between you two escalating into unrestrained laughter. as the atmosphere gradually settles, you can't help but notice toji's intense gaze fixed upon you, a look that goes beyond mere amusement.

it's a gaze so deep, so penetrating, that it seems to hold an enchantment of its own. in that moment, you feel like the protagonist in a love-struck tale, caught in the gaze of someone who sees more than just the surface.

toji fushiguro is a womanizer, a horrendous father, and an arrogantly cocky man. …but… you think you can manage.

and so you find your arms slinking around his waist, a huge, unwavering grin plastered on your face. "you're such a baby, y'know? if you liked me you could've just asked for my number." he grumbles under his breath, yet tugs you closer to his body warmth. rolling his eyes, he flicks your forehead, lips curving up into a smile. "you're the worst."

© KAEFFEINEE 2024. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[lunememes]

🌙 * ― 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 ( a collection of unhinged and relatable things said on discord. feel free to change wording as needed! do not add to the list. )

❛  you know bullying is my love language and you’re still here so… ❜ ❛  i mean... who am i to say no to that. ❜ ❛  hey, some might be into that. i won’t judge. much. ❜ ❛  we can both be dumb but pretty. ❜ ❛  because you wanna know why? fictional men can't disappoint me like real life men can. ❜ ❛ i need someone that’d end the world for me.  ❜ ❛ can’t be sad with dick / pussy. or nice tits.  ❜ ❛  thinking of how they're all old in this movie like wow i love dilfs and milfs. ❜ ❛  he fucking is like a ROACH, CAN'T EVER GET RID OF HIM. ❜ ❛  [name] do not encourage their antics, I BEG OF YOU. ❜ ❛  don't bully me, i'll cry. ❜ ❛  [name]..... why are you such a people pleaser. ❜ ❛  i am an indecisive bitch okay. ❜ ❛  don't squish his TUMMY! ❜ ❛  fair enough but what did you do dumb bitch? ❜ ❛ i have a flyswatter, i will smack him.  ❜ ❛  oh god yeah, add that motherfucker as well... the hate list grows. ❜ ❛  he gets no peace in any universe. ❜ ❛  if they get hurt, they get hurt. ❜ ❛  no love… there is no love in this house. ❜ ❛  truly, the braincells are not in my head. ❜ ❛ i wanna grab his waist. ❜ ❛  they just… need to fuck the anger out. ❜ ❛  could be worse but i'm judging. ❜ ❛ yes, oil me up baby.  ❜ ❛  don't you shush me. ❜ ❛  how dare you make me NOT distracted. ❜ ❛  i'm sure you've seen each other naked before, this is nothing new. ❜ ❛  suffer. ❜ ❛  i ... fucking THIEF. ❜ ❛  old men are just superior. ❜ ❛  sometimes people just deserve to be stabbed. ❜ ❛  bisexuals don't sit normally. ❜ ❛  i never said i was smart. ❜ ❛  what am i to say about this? want me to kiss your booboos better? ❜ ❛  JOKES ON YOU, I ACTUALLY DO, AHAHAHAHA. ❜ ❛  we both know you have a mask kink. ❜ ❛  kick him six feet under. ❜ ❛  to be fair i only killed those at the gate. ❜ ❛  well sooooorry, can't all be goody-two-shoes like [name]. ❜ ❛  i'm gonna murder you. ❜ ❛  it's because you're OLD. ❜ ❛  we're just ... too nice for our own good. ❜ ❛  and then you got sweaty [name] out here going batshit crazy and killing a whole building of people. ❜ ❛  we are in fact too dumb and yet here we are. ❜ ❛  actually i'm a liar, i'd let a lot of men get it. ❜ ❛  oOP NOT ME SEEING ANOTHER VIDEO/PICTURE AND I THINK HE'S FINGERING HER. ❜ ❛  he's adorable when he isn't being a gremlin and trying to randomly bite me. ❜ ❛  it’s in my contract of existing to bully everyone. ❜ ❛  well clearly you enjoy it since you’re still here. ❜ ❛  feeling a little called out? ❜ ❛  anything can be a dildo if you're brave enough. ❜

[ghost-bison]

things that happened today on the sims to the Doctor Who characters I made:

-River tried to fuck Donna and almost succeeded

-Nine got an addiction to the violin

-Ten caught fire because of the barbecue but Nine got the extinguisher in time (thank you Nine)

-Eleven got embarrassed because Ten entered the bathroom while he was taking a wee

-Amy threw a temper tantrum because Donna was playing the piano (badly)

-Nine and Donna fucked and she's pregnant

-then they got married

-Ten laughs a lot in his sleep and it's kind of adorable

-Twelve got rejected by Nine and Donna's wedding caterer and cried himself to sleep

-Sylvia fell asleep at the wedding on a bench (twice)

-Nine keeps doing this weird gremlin thing I think something might be wrong with him

-Donna kept throwing the trash to the ground savagely (there was an empty bin right fucking there)

-Twelve worked at a café but he kept coming home with his lil outfit and his lil hat and it made me laugh too much so I made him a secret agent instead (also because he was miserable and would cry everyday on cue after coming home from his 2 hours shift)

-Ten makes autistic little stimming noises as he walks around the house

-Eleven tried to learn the guitar but he was terrible at it because he "didn't have flexible joints"

[aalloochaat]

no guys but...boyfriend eren !!!!!!!!

bf!eren who has beef with your plushies, glaring and punching them every time he's over because he's jealous of the way you hug them to sleep.

bf!eren who spams your chats daily (every minute if he's bored as fuck and you're busy) with couple reels and a "pls can we do this ???? plsss 🥺🥺🥺" under every single reel he sends

bf!eren who laughs at the shocked look on your face when you find out he doesn't moisturize. like…. what the actual fuck eren. what's wrong with you. . .

“what do you mean “whats wrong with me”? i just don't moisturize! there’s nothing wrong with that!”

bf!eren bursting into giggles as you try to tackle him down, determined to moisturize the fuck out of him. you hold your lotion threateningly over him, trying to act all menacing, and it's the cutest thing he’s ever seen!

“eren u crusty ass motherfucker. IM GOING TO FIX YOU”

bf!eren that will never stop yapping about you to his friends and anyone else who’d be willing to listen to him gush about you for hours

bf!eren who will be SO nervous around you before the two of you start dating and are just in that weird talking stage because everything you do is just so adorable and he just wants to squish your cheeks and scoop you up in his arms because he's a simp 

bf!eren who will always be checking his phone just to see if you texted

bf!eren who GETS SO HAPPY WHEN HE WATCHES YOU EAT BECAUSE HEALTHY EATING HABITS, BABY!

or alternatively, bf!eren who is sometimes extremely concerned and absolutely baffled because you’re a weird little gremlin. “baby . . . are you eating. .. is that… WHY ARE YOU EATING PRINGLES WITH WHIPPED CREAM?!?!”

“...can i try some?”

bf!eren who lets you take weird pictures of him, smiling when you cackle to yourself. he’s just happy to see you happy !!!!!!!!!!!

bf!eren who gets flustered easily when you flirt for a change. he turns into a literal tomato, turning away and covering his mouth with his hand. he wont even be able to look you in the eye for literal days after that little incident !!!! :)

this one’s a given, but bf!eren who lets you do his makeup for fun >>>>>>>>>>>>

just. bf!eren. i love him guys. he's so babygirl,,,

[konigsblog]

May I request more gremlin reader? Like taking shirts or something because Gremlin wants to have something of König's?

gremlin reader thots™️ ...

you steal his shirts to smell his cologne... nothing else! totally not the fact that könig will be fucking you relentlessly at the sight of you; draped in his clothes.

you love to be a tease, it's almost in your nature to be this cruel. könig despises you for it, how you distract him from the stacks of reports piling up on his office desk. they should've been handed in yesterday, but the sensation of your hands trailing down his brute chest, and the sweet melody of your voice was overwhelming and almost frustrating for könig. he could barely focus, an energetic thing like you -- almost like a puppy -- of course, needed some form of entertainment.

könig was left without a choice. the feeling of his balls tightening and his dick throbbing was extremely painful, and you weren't giving up, giggling when he grunted or complained about your neediness. the sight of you in his clothes already had him flushed, desperate and horny, but watching you dip your fingers into your panties was all too much for him to comprehend.

your back laid against the wooden desk, laying atop of papers, reports and files and all sorts of important material. he stuffed his cock deep inside you, girthy and thick and enough to silence his greedy, attention whore... eyes rolled back and mouth open with pleasure dripping from your cunt, fucking your stupid and slapping your face, adoring that fucked-out smile.

“you don’t listen, nein? no, of course you don't... such a needy girl, a little attention seeking whore... is that it, ja? just a stupid fucking girl, my dear?”