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#the leprechaun brothers
gifs-of-puppets · 1 month
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Happy St. Patrick's Day!
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katherineshiser · 14 days
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Pussy so tight it got him stuck 😵‍💫🥵
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ATTENTION ALL RANKIN/BASS LOVERS!
Universal has teamed up with Warner Brothers Studious and is releasing a collection with EVERY Christmas special they ever made (yes, even the obscure ones. It’s about $50-$60 on Amazon (but Walmart has it for cheaper with a longer wait)
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It’s been years since we’ve gotten any news like this so it’s super exciting that we’re finally getting FED.
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thinkbolt · 1 month
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Wearing of the Grin (WB, 1951) - dir. Chuck Jones
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jellofangy · 1 year
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2023 is almost upon us so I thought it's time to revisit some randomly picked art from 2022. Happy New Year-
NOTE: Template is not mine and instead belongs to EspiPhantom on Deviantart.
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ettawritesnstudies · 1 year
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sts! What’s your favorite non plot related fact about the world of runaways?
Thanks for the ask!
I think my favorite thing is the fact that the girl's home has a house brownie that cleans their rooms for them named Hazel. She never appears in the plot of the story but that's a reference I threw in for my little brother. He got some pretty bad burns when he was 6 and had to stay in a hospital for several weeks while we had to go home and keep doing school, so in between visits, I would write and send him short stories to keep him entertained during his treatments - and these were called "The Brownie and the Ghost". They were about these two kids, Dan and Nan, who meet their house brownie and help her catch a ghost that keeps eating her cookies, and in that story, the brownie's name was Hazel.
Jump ahead 4 years. Before I ever decided to write Runaways as a book, I just had a bunch of characters in a notes app on my phone. I persuaded my little brother and sister to help me pull weeds in the garden in exchange for a story if they would help, and I started making up the plot of Runaways on the spot as we were working through the tomatoes. I could tell they were getting bored so, so I through Hazel into the new story as a reference to the old one they loved, and they got all excited about the worlds being tied together. Hazel's made it through every draft since as a throwaway line, specifically for my siblings.
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Sup guys LOOK OVER THERE IT’S YOUR BROTHER!!!
Hahaha you idiot!!!!! Your brother isn’t here!!! Not on this blog!!!! Go somewhere else to find your brother!!!!
Woah woah woah wait did you see that??? Over there in the corner!!! I swear I saw something move….
Something moved in the corner
I saw it over there, by the closet and the plant.
Turn on the light and go check to see what it is, no way I’m going to check.. Could be a leprechaun or something of a similar sort..
Don’t ask silly questions, it was NOT your brother. Stop asking me where he is, I don’t know.
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sisyphuslnabyss · 8 months
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Idk I think Irish people should start killing the English again
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dorcas4meadowes · 4 months
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Love on a high - Luke Castellan
Pairing: Luke Castellan x fem!Reader
Warning: weed and kisses
Summary: smoking alone when an un requited love (you’re also oblivious ml) joins you
W/c: 1.5k
Master list
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You were never fond of the high, but It was the quiet that you craved.
The serenity you yearned for at the end of a blunt rolled by a Demeter kid who owed you a favour. You were thankful to the small match box container – which held a few joints – it kept you at ease when you brother was at prominent distress or when you best friend was blissfully oblivious to your every advance to flaunt your affection towards him.
Your eyes fell shut as you took a long drag, holding the smoke in your chest until you could feel the soft buzz drift to your head, making everything appear blurred and sharp simultaneously.
You surveyed the water under your feet, each melt of the waves making your eyes follow new curvatures that were being generated.
The fish and the plants contently dancing to the rhythm of the tides pull.
You did not notice when the weed created a dim haze around you, but when the wind proceeded to whisper and the moon mumbled back, you became numb in its presence and within a few moments you were completely and utterly stoned.
"You shouldn't be out here".
You shouldn't be with me while I'm so amiable.
His voice was a mere breath against your skin. His tone lethargic in contrast to the melody which mused from your headphones. You were unaware of truth that his voice brought you, but when your gaze dimly caught his and you smiled.
"I doubt you should be lecturing me, you are out here too Luke". Your voice was soft, it routinely was with him.
"I have duties".
"And I have a recreational hobby".
He paused for a moment. "Which requires you to be outside this late?" he asked, his eyes lingering on your stained fingers.
"I enjoy the placidity", you quietly said, bringing the joint up to your lips to further dull your surroundings.
"I thought you stopped?"
"I tried". You were ashamed of your habit, mainly because Luke didn't indulge in it.
"Let me then". The enthusiasm in his tone confused you, your eyes following his every move as he perched close beside you, his prying fingers nearing yours. He had never once expressed his want for the flower, he were not interested in your soother, so his question caught you by surprise.
"Luke" you muttered, momentarily  forgetting his question.
"Yes".
"Oh Luke".
Your leer on him softened as you admired him, his features becoming a blur of endearment and simplicity. You had always known he was handsome, but in the dim shading of the moon and rippled reflections from the dark water you couldn't help, but study him, concentrate every lasting thought on him.
Your squinted a little, light playing through your lids as you appreciated the way your surroundings painted him, encapsulating him into nothing that could be defined other than pure charm.
He thawed against the blue around him gently, his eyes searching for something you could not quite answer, because all you were fascinated by was the pull of his brow, the line of his jaw and the way he adjusted against your indigo so tranquilly.
You were so intent on smoothing the ridge above his lip that when his hand brushed against your you startled, before sympathising to his original demand, passing the blunt to him. You observed him tug the joint towards his lips and almost instantly convulse as swiftly as his inhale were. 
A hum left you throat, "it takes time Luke, most good things do".
"How long did it take you?".
"Demeter's flowerings are always more - potent than usual and contributing a dejected childhood to the process and a prior tolerance, a few months".
He placed the joint in the small gap between you then spoke, "so how long till I start seeing leprechaun?"
"You have to hold your stuff, before anything happens", you said, distracted by chatter.
"And then after that?"
"It sort of just happens, like the moments before you fall aslee-", before you could continue your sentence you became preoccupied by a lull from the sky.
 "Hear the stars Luke?".
"Should i?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement, "what are they saying?”
You sat in a dropped silence, attempting to decipher their whispers, too conspicuous for you to repeat.
Your fates are spiralling Y/n, like a spider's web, too delicate to tear apart, one hushed.
Child of the sea, live up to your lineage, find the tide in his storm, another prodded.
We know how you feel, you feel too deeply to keep it to yourself, you're being selfish, tell him.
Further mutters echoed in your ears, sending thoughts through your stoned mind. You closed your eyes for privacy, but even then you could see him, you could trace his every fibre with your memory let alone, every contemplation consisting of him.
"They are being stupid" you finally replied, turning your head away from constellations.
"How so?" he questioned.
"They are saying - things".
"Can I know?"
You smiled and shook your head, "you can listen". You took the blunt between your fingers and relit the ends with a light.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, not dismissing your sudden notion.
"Can I show you?" you queried, the high in your body blinding you from reality.
When he tried to reply his voice caught in his throat, but three words escaped, three words which solidified you next move.
"I trust you".
You took a drag of the blunt and allowed the smoke to linger behind your closed mouth, attempting to retain it from traveling down your throat. He watched you every so intently, pondering your next move as you pressed your fingers into his jaw turning his face, so he had no other option than to meet your intrigued gaze.
Then you leant closer - nearer than you ever consciously allowed yourself to - his reflexes shattering as he too drifted closer to your warmth allowing your lips to brush against his ever so slightly as your diffused the bitter smoke into his mouth. You wouldn't have noticed the refined press if you weren't so vigilant, so when you when the smoke dispersed, you were unaware of what to do? Where to go? You couldn't ponder your decisions a mere few centimetres away from Luke's face, so you spoke.
"Better?"
He responded instantly, "do you trust me?", his words swift.
"What – I always what's the-".
You could not finish your sentence before a soft kiss was pressed to your lips, everything changing in a matter of moments. The sour tastes of weed stirred between both your parted mouths - which you invited pleasantly - allowing his hands to kneed the soft skin of you hip as yours found his curls.
Any form of life coming to a pause in declaration of this action.
His lips were as soft as they appeared, so when you separated you couldn't help but drag your thumb across his them, a small laugh falling from your mouth. You took a short breath and blinked, watching him reach out heedlessly to discover your hands - which he clasped in his own - bringing them upwards to brush his lips over your knuckles.
You allowed him to be close with no aversions - bathing in his presence - dazed a little at your distance since he had never made an effort to prove his fondness to you, it all felt surreal.
"I can hear the stars" he stated.
"Oh really?" you questioned, planting a mindless kiss to his lips.
"Mhm, they're saying you should meet me by the woods tomorrow at midnight".
"Hm, mine are saying we should take this back to your cabin".
"As much as I would love to do so, I would rather remember whatever would happen and besides the new kids sleep like a new borns". You rolled your eyes, "come on, let me walk you back to your cabin".
You accepted his help and stood, and knocked your blunt and lighter into the water -whispering a few words of flattery to which the tide would keep your belongings safe – and out of Percy's reach – placing a reassuring kiss onto Luke's cheek before lacing your fingers together once against to walk back to the warm sheets of your bed.
To an impercipient eye you were the epitome of adolescent affection, but amongst the brawny vegetation – across from where you sat - lay an observant spectator, one who often doted of Luke and yours growing devotion to one another and watched with poise, waiting for the inevitable misfortune.
"In the realm of profound sentiment, the pinnacle of love is its culmination to embrace tragedy".
Aphrodite uttered these words to her unbothered accomplice who sat at her side simply because the sun was far from its obligation to rise.
"Perhaps he may choose her" Apollo spoke, toying with his bow.                                           
"A boy cannot forsake a prophecy; the world will burn for her or it will blaze, because of her. Kronos has already whispered into the son of Hermes' ear, it is unescapable- his fate - but she, her's is undedicated".
"So you will watch their eventual decline?" Apollo asked.
"With decided scrutiny, where ever she proceeds allow her muse to inspire her steps".
"You're just glad amongst the uprising there's something cute to follow".
"Indeed and i will grant her every step with calamity".
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Thanks for reading cuties <33
(In a Coriolanus and Luke chokehold rn)
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imagionationstation · 21 days
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Today on the Mikey Is Not Abused news
Research shows that 78% of the “Poor Mikey” fanclub claims that Mikey is incapable of standing up for himself, whether that be because he fears further abuse, fears his brothers in general, suffers from intense depression, an abuse sort of conditioning, or *insert other incredulous views here* (Statistics may not be entirely accurate and should be used with caution).
Unfortunately for them, Mikey does knows how to stand up for himself and it has been shown that he can speak his mind to even the main abuser, Raphael, and walk away unscathed.
Astonishing claim, I know, but the facts prove themselves.
Mikey has brought up beliefs on several occasions, but his lack of awareness outside his own mind often disproves his own claims.
Years of leprechauns, cream cheese demons, and certainty in cupcake uprisings have worn down his brothers’ trust in his word on many different subjects. This is not his brothers ignoring him out of spite. This is merely because he has proven himself to be an unreliable source when it comes to reality.
His lack of interest in taking most battles and training sessions seriously grate on his brothers’ nerves and often lead them to doubt his prowess and abilities on the field. Mikey being the youngest and earning all of their must protect with life instincts doesn’t exactly help his case. He knowingly brings much of their wrath upon himself- with tauntings, and purposefully infuriating acts, and the constant reappearance of Dr. Prankenstein.
When Mikey doesn’t go gun-hoe or call Raph out for a whack on the head, it’s probably because he’s conscious enough to know he likely said/did something stupid, or because he purposefully did something annoying.
However, if he sees an injustice affect another by his brothers’ hand, he will be the first one to stand up and correct it.
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Mikey is proven to be more likely to speak his mind when it comes to others around him getting retribution that he deems underserved.
IN FACT, a few of the only times fans actually see an aggressive argument/challenge poised to a brother is to Raphael, often in regards to his crass judgement.
Take Fourfold Trap as an example:
“I got the answer for you! Karai’s a lost cause!”
“Don’t say that, dude!”
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Mikey shoves at Raph’s shoulder to make him face him and they both begin yelling/bickering/roughly gesturing. Mikey is in no way scared of how Raph will react to this and is immediate in getting physically aggressive and speaking his mind.
Not normally how someone who’s been abused all their life would act towards the main abuser, I think. Not convincing enough?
Well, The Curse of Savanti Romero is another:
In it, Renet is seen admitting to her mistake of letting Romero loose. Raph responds by immediately coming down on her for it, even though she understands and regrets her mistake.
Mikey has zero hesitations about jumping into the picture.
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“You really are the worst time traveler ever! The worst!”
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“Back off, bro! She needs our help!”
Psychology of most abusers would not point to this kind of situation going well. If this were the case- in no universe would Raphael have relented under his brother’s glare and stepped away, especially not after being shoved and yelled at in front of someone outside the family. That would be seen as a calling for punishment.
Moving away would be letting the abused assert dominance and think that they’ve gotten away with a win.
If this were really an abusive relationship, then Raphael would have had a far more violent reaction to his youngest brother butting in.
Instead, he growled, glared, and then relented. He could tell this was not an issue that could be further challenged. Mikey was standing his ground, intensely meeting his glare, and so Raph stepped away.
Now, have there been times where Mikey felt like he was left out or being ignored and that made him feel insecure?
Yes. Absolutely. Mikey Gets Shellacne is a prime example.
But, have the abusers, his older brothers, been made to share similar feelings of being unable to rely on their brothers at one time or another? Perhaps due to his direct or indirect actions? Why, yes.
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Because, as hard as it is to believe, every person in that family has made mistakes when dealing with another family member. Relationships are hard. Not one person, or mutant, is perfect, and facing or accepting insecurities is always a fact of growing up.
Is this to say Mikey never stands up for himself?
No. Not even close.
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Is it ever portrayed as something big and dramatic as a focal point of an episode? No. Because it doesn’t need to be.
If Mikey holding onto resentment and depression from how his brother abuse him was meant to be part of his character, it would have been a plot point in the episode where they’re literally in his brain. There would have been the slightest hint of something going on somewhere in that chaotic realm.
Instead, Mikey’s brain welcomed all of his brother with open arms.
And the true, inner Mikey runs ecstatically toward his brothers and into Leo’s open arms for snuggles, no more scared of his brothers inside his mind than outside of it.
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The only time that he has thoughts of “my brothers are so mean to me I should run away” is the episode The Croaking, where he takes accountability and has the realization that his brothers aren’t the jerks that he thought they were when he ran off…
“Dude. Your brothers sound awesome.”
“Yeah. They are… Even after I trashed the house.”
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Mikey doesn’t often react violently to his brother’s teasing because there’s not a reason too. He understands that his brother’s pick on him, but in reality, he picks on them too. It’s not a big enough deal to point out unless an evil planet is letting Angry Mikey consume all of his thoughts and then everything is terrible.
Mikey can stand up for himself. Mikey will always stand up for others.
And that brings this article to an end. Subscribe for more!
Next time, we’ll discuss why Parasitica May or May Not have a worse reputation than it truly deserves. Cowbunga!
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months
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Jolly Holidays
Dean and Sam Winchester x little sister!reader
Requested by anonymous
Synopsis: Reader likes to celebrate every holiday, no matter how small
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“Where’d you get that?” Sam asked, trying desperately to put on a stern face, but unable to hide his smile when you placed the birthday cake on the table.
“The store,” you said innocently.
“And how did you pay for it?” Sam asked, but just then he noticed the lettering on the cake. “Happy Birthday…Samantha?”
You winced. “Ok, so maybe it wasn’t exactly meant for me, but it was just so close to your name that I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”
“And Samantha?” Sam asked.
You shrugged, “Should’ve picked up her cake on time.”
Sam rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. He leaned over and hugged you.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
You grinned.
“Happy Birthday, Sammy.”
“We need this.”
Dean just stared at you, not moving to put the item in his basket.
“Why?”
“Because it’s Thanksgiving,” you scoffed, reaching around Dean’s arm and dropping the small plastic container in his basket. “So we need turkey.”
“That’s Deli meat, it barely qualifies.”
“It’s not like we’re ever gonna get one of those,” you gestured to a display of large frozen turkeys. “So this’ll have to do.”
“What are we arguing about over here?” Sam stuck his head in between two aisles to join the conversation.
“Thanksgiving dinner,” you told him. He stared at the items in Dean’s basket.
“Deli meat, licorice, and a six pack of beer?”
“Hey, if we’re doing Thanksgiving, then I’m getting pie,” Dean declared, wandering off to another aisle.
“You’re never gonna get Thanksgiving to be a big thing, no matter how many years you try,” Sam told you after Dean was gone.
“It doesn’t have to be a big thing,” you assured him. “This is enough.”
“Y/N, please go to bed.”
You ignored Sam’s request, opting to remain sitting at the motel window, staring out into the night.
“I don’t even know if he’s gonna be home tonight, it might be tomorrow.”
“Just let her be,” Dean insisted from his bed. “If she wants to wait a little longer it’s fine.”
You stayed silent throughout your brother’s conversation, too intent on your own thoughts. You didn’t often wait up for John, mostly because you knew he was usually late. But today, today was different. Today you really wanted him to be on time.
“Sweetheart, please-“
“He’s here!” Your outburst when you saw John’s car pull into the motel startled both brothers.
The moment that John stepped into the motel room, he was forced back when you threw yourself into his arms.
“Whoa, hey,” he greeted, confused and more than a little exhausted. “Why are you still awake?”
“She insisted on waiting for you,” Sam explained while you stepped away from your dad and ran over to the fridge.
“Why? Kid, you should be in b-“ John cut himself off when you emerged from the small fridge with a sloppily decorated chocolate cake in your hands and a huge grin on your face.
“What’s this?” He asked softly.
“Happy birthday,” you sing-songed, placing the cake in the middle of the tiny motel table.
“You made this?” John’s voice was still uncharacteristically quiet.
“Yeah,” your grin faltered a little. “Well, mostly, I mean it’s from a box mix, but I figured since this motel has an actual oven that…” you stopped, suddenly self conscious. “Is this ok? I mean I know you don’t really do birthdays but I tho-“
You were cut off when John wrapped you in his arms, and you relaxed in his tight embrace.
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to.
“Happy birthday, dad.”
“Ouch! What was that for?” Sam grumbled when you leaned over and pinched his arm.
“Wasn’t me,” you said innocently. “It was a leprechaun. They do that when you don’t wear green on this sacred day.”
“Sacred day? It’s just Saint Patrick’s Day, no one celebrates that,” Dean insisted. “And if you even think about pinching me, I’m gonna punch you in the face.”
You huffed, leaning back in your seat.
“You guys are no fun.”
Dean laughed, leaning back in his seat and reaching back to ruffle your hair.
“Better luck next year, leprechaun.”
“I’m telling you, something’s wrong.”
“I don’t know, Dean. She seems fine.”
“She didn’t even get one of those little plastic candle things for Hanukkah.”
“Maybe because we’re not Jewish,” Sam scoffed.
“That’s never stopped her before.”
“So she’s growing out of the holiday thing, what do you want me to do about it?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know, you’re usually the one who wants to talk about feelings,” Dean grumbled. “I figured you’d have an idea.”
“Well, I’m not even convinced that something’s wrong,” Sam argued, but at the look on Dean’s face he began to relent. “Do you really think something’s wrong?”
“Yeah. I think it’s this search for dad, man. It’s wearing on her. I wanna do something about it, she’s been acting weird for a couple of weeks now.”
“I mean, she’s been quiet, but-“
“Look, Sam, I don’t think you get it. You were gone for a while-“ Dean held up his hands innocently when Sam opened his mouth to protest. “And I’m not about to argue about that again. I’m just saying, maybe you don’t see it because you haven’t spent as much time with her. I just need you to trust me on this, we gotta do something.”
“Ok,” Sam sighed. “Ok, I have an idea.”
“They didn’t have coke so I grabbed…” your voice trailed off as you entered the hotel room. “What’s this?”
“Christmas,” Dean grinned at you from under a Santa hat.
“You guys…decorated for Christmas?” You looked around in awe. “Like…the two of you? No threats, no gun to your head?”
“Well, you didn’t seem in the mood so we did it for you,” Sam explained. “What do you think?”
You were silent for several moments while you took it all in; a little plastic tree on the table, a couple of red and green balloons, Sam and Dean wearing matching Santa hats, and even a couple of newspaper-wrapped presents under the tiny tree.
“I think I wanna Santa hat,” your voice came out quietly, almost reverently, like if you spoke too loud you would wake up.
“They only had two,” Dean said, reaching into his bag, “but we did get you this!” He pulled out a headband with pointy plastic ears, and a cardboard green elf hat sticking out of the top. You giggled and snatched it from his hand, placing it on your head.
“Even better.”
The three of you spent that night opening gifts and drinking hot chocolate, before ending the night with you falling asleep to Elf.
Dean carried you to bed when the movie was over, setting you on one side while he climbed in on the other, pulling the blankets over the both of you. Sam came over to the bed you and Dean were sharing to give you a good night kiss on the forehead, before he went over to his own bed and quickly fell asleep.
“Dean?” You whispered sleepily.
“Yeah baby?”
“Merry Christmas.”
Dean grinned, leaning over to press a kiss to your head, and when he laid back down you scooted closer to him, and he wrapped you in his arms.
“Merry Christmas, little sister.”
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 5 months
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Christmas Special with Eri!Reader? Reader is celebrating her very first Christmas Together with her large family, as she came in next to Odin wearing the cutest little Santa Outfit (With a lot of her family members squealing and cooing over how cute she is and taking a bunch of pictures) and Reader asks “I’m supposed to say… Trick or Treat?” (Everyone fell to the ground from having heart attacks)
Thor tells her ‘Not quite… Wrong Holiday’ and she keeps getting it wrong, as she gifts Shiva some eggs she painted and telling everyone ‘In sickness and in health’ as she throws some rice (She’s wrong again, but no one is chastising her for it, rather they find it precious)
Zerofuku excitedly and rapidly told Reader all in one go about all the types of Holidays and Celebrations, resulting in her getting them mixed up
How does everyone react to Reader’s gift being a gigantic toy sword (She’s holding it up and smiling excitedly at her Big Brother Thor because now they match! (This makes Loki and other relatives *The men* a little jealous because she’s not trying to match with them!)
Reader calls Loki who’s wearing an Elf Outfit a ‘Leprechaun’ (Making some of her family members cackle and try to keep in their snickers) which Loki is sulking in the corner, but Reader hugs him, making him instantly feel better
Reader’s in awe of meeting ‘Santa’ (Zeus dressed as Santa) as she gifts him the Cookies she made with Mama Eve (Everyone is taking pictures)
-It was your first-time celebrating Christmas with your new family- it was your first time celebrating it period and everyone was excited, wanting to make it extra special for you.
-When Loki entered, wearing an elf costume, “We’re here!” eyes quickly turned, seeing you dressed up in the cutest little Santa dress, peeking out from behind Loki, “I’m supposed to say trick or treat, right?”
-Instant heart attacks from cuteness had several of your family members collapsing to the floor as Thor came over, giving you a soft smile, ruffling your hair gently, “Wrong holiday.”
-It was so cute how you kept mixing up the holidays, mainly because Zerofuku had confused you after he had told you about all the different holidays, as he wanted to share the joy of all of them with you.
-Everyone thought it was cute, not having the heart to correct you, as you seemed so happy handing Shiva some painted eggs you had made with Loki and Buddha before tossing rice around, “In sickness and in health.”
-Apollo held you on his lap after you have him some chocolate hearts, “You look so cute dressed up like the Y/N- you match with Loki!”
-You looked up, a bit confused, “Does Santa and a leprechaun match?” Roaring laughter took over the room as Loki couldn’t help but pout lightly, he was an elf- not a leprechaun!
-You presented your present for the gift exchange: a stuffed Santa bear Loki helped you pick out that was almost as big as you were- you looked so adorable!
-Everyone was gawking only moments later as you were holding a giant toy sword, your prize in the gift exchange, but instead of looking scared or upset, you were smiling, looking up at Thor, who had been the one to bring it, “Now I match with you!”
-That wasn’t fair! The others all wanted to match with you!
-“Ho-ho-ho!!” you flinched at the loud voice before you turned, seeing Santa himself, not realizing it was Zeus dressed up and your eyes went sparkly, “It’s Santa!”
-Round two of cuteness related heart attacks!
-You were a little shy approaching him, not knowing him, which everyone thought was adorable as you were holding a bag of cookies you had made with Eve, as Eve had told you that Santa loves cookies.
-Zeus was struggling not to keel over from cuteness when you gifted him the cookies before he picked you up, asking you what you wanted for Christmas, “I want to celebrate like this with everyone all the time.”
-Oh sweet sprinkles you were too precious! You were going to kill all of them as everyone was quickly cheering, promising you that they would always celebrate with you, making you smile warmly, it’s all you ever wanted- to see everyone happy too!
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hp-hcs · 8 months
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(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 3 of my silly lil mlm stories <3)
Slytherin Twin — draco malfoy x male! slytherin! weasley! reader x harry potter
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tws: umbridge’s blood quill, maybe like a pinch of homophobia?
i need more representation of slytherins who enjoy care of magical creatures goddamnit
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“Ronald Weasley.”
“GRYFFINDOR!”
“Y/N Weasley.”
Oh, no. Minerva McGonagall does not get paid enough to deal with another set of Weasley twins.
“SLYTHERIN!”
Maybe I should retire, Minerva thinks faintly.
You don’t seem to mind at all that the Great Hall is dead silent as you skip towards the Slytherin table, your brothers watching in a mix of shock, fascination, resignation, and abject horror.
You plop down right next to Draco Malfoy, grinning widely at him before waving cheerily towards some of the older students who are struggling to hold back their unabashed glee.
“A Weasley in Slytherin? I thought your entire family was made up of idioticly naïve fools,” Malfoy sneers sharply, a look of contempt rising on his smug face.
“Draco Malfoy in Slytherin? How much did your family have to pay to ensure you got in?” you reply with a sweet smile on your face. The older students stare in awe at the Weasley who just left a Malfoy speechless.
Much to their surprise, however, Draco’s face broke out into a grin. “So you do belong here. Very well then, Weasley. Lovely to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise, Malfoy.”
~~~
“‘The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware.’ What does that even mean?”
“D’you still think it’s about Potter?” you ask around a mouthful of toast. “Cause I think you might’ve been wrong ‘bout him, Dray.”
“Potter is a spoiled prat, Y/N. Just because he’s the Chosen One, he thinks he’s so special-”
“My brothers broke him out of his uncle’s house over the summer. They’d put bars on his window and starved him.”
Draco stops his tirade about Potter, looking positively bewildered. “What?”
~~~
As you were leaving the library, you bumped into Hermione Granger, your brother’s girlfriend friend.
“Sorry,” you mutter, continuing on your way. You don’t look back, so you never see the dawning look of realization once Granger unfolds the torn-out page you’d shoved into her hand.
~~~
Harry Potter opens the Gryffindor portrait at your hesitant knocking. “Oh- Y/N, right? Ron’s brother?”
You nod uncertainly. “Yeah, um… I just wanted to say that I’m real sorry about Buckbeak. Malfoy’s a git, you know.”
Harry nods slowly. “Yeah. Isn’t he like, your best friend though?”
“Like you’ve never thought of Ronnie as a git too, Potter.”
He grins and holds the portrait open for you. “Here- welcome to the common room, I guess.”
You look around, unimpressed. “My eyes are bleeding.”
Smoothing out your Slytherin sweater, you continue, “Like, this is almost as bad as Ron’s Chudley Cannons shrine-bedroom.”
A unfamiliar scowling face looks up from the couch, glaring daggers at you. “Oi, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be fawning over your Slytherin prince?”
“Hey, leave him alone, Finnegan!” Ron snaps, appearing at the bottom of the stairwell to his dorm. “I swear to Merlin, you are such a prat.”
Ignoring your brother, you raise your hands up in mock surrender, smiling patronizingly at Seamus. “Hey, no hard feelings, leprechaun. I’m just here to apologize on Dray’s behalf.”
“On Dray’s behalf,” Cormac McLaggen mocks in a high-pitched voice. “Oh, Dray!”
A few girls next to him titter with laughter.
“Malfoy your boyfriend or something, Weasley?” McLaggen spits your name like it were a curse.
“Oh, indeed,” you deadpan. “You’re invited to the wedding. Won’t you be my best man, please?”
“If you’re just here to make fun of us, maybe you ought’a leave,” Seamus butts in again.
“Whatever. Anyways, Potter, I found a couple of books in the library about the Ministry’s statutes, and I bookmarked a few pages about the fascinating Release of Liability contracts that Hogwarts students’ guardians have to sign at the beginning of every school year,” you look down at your nails, feigning disinterest. “But if you’re not interested, then I’ll be off. Wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”
~~~
“Y/N, here,” Pansy Parkinson said with a look of poorly-contained glee, gently setting a pure white ferret into your hands. “It’s Draco’s, and you’re in charge of ferret-sitting for the foreseeable future. Have fun!”
Blaise just slowly shakes his head and mouths I’m so sorry in your direction as Pansy drags him off, laughing mirthfully. You blink, glancing down at the tiny animal who is currently glaring at you. Draco’s indeed, you think to yourself.
“Heya, little guy. It’s snowing pretty hard outside, are you fine riding in my pocket until I get to my next class?”
You hold open the deep pocket of your robe with your free hand, the ferret immediately leaping inside. You waited as it got settled, its tiny paws and head peeking out.
Satisfied, you start your walk across the school grounds, taking a much longer path than usual to avoid your older brothers, who had been giggling to each other far too much this morning for your comfort.
You chatter to the little rodent in your pocket, about everything from the Divination test you failed this morning to the fantastic cherry tart your mother makes every Yule. Before long, you arrive and climb up the stone steps, knocking on the heavy wood door and tucking your hands into your armpits to keep warm.
The door opens, revealing the half-giant groundskeeper who smiles happily at you.
“Y/N! I jus’ put on a kettle of tea, now. Glad y’made it, lad.”
As he ushers you into the warm, inviting hut, the ferret in your pocket squeaks at the sight of the large dog asleep by the fire.
You giggle, pulling the ferret out and setting it on the arm of your chair, gladly taking the warm teacup offered to you. “Mr. Hagrid, sir. My friend Pansy just kind of gave me this little guy out of nowhere and told me I was on indefinite ferret-sitting duty.”
Hagrid sits forward in his chair, setting down his delicate china teacup that looks rather out of place in his large hand, and squints at the ferret.
“Tha’s transfigured, that is,” Hagrid grunts. “Not a ferret.”
“I figured,” you shrug. “Ten galleons says it’s Malfoy.”
The ferret squeaks indignantly.
Hagrid chuckles. “If it is y’, Malfoy, I right like you better like this.”
You reach out to scratch the top of Malfoy (Ferret?) Blondie’s head. “So can you turn him back, Mr. Hagrid?”
“‘Fraid not, with no wand,” he taps his fingers on his teacup, making a steady clink clink clink sound. “Ah! But our mutual friend should be dropping by shortly, yeah?”
His sentence is punctuated by the well-timed FWOOSH of a flooed-in visitor.
“Heya, Harry! Draco’s a ferret now.”
“He wasn’t already?”
~~~
“My father will hear about this!”
“I’m sure he will, Dray, I’m sure he will,” you deadpan, wincing at the sting of Murtlap Essence on the back of your hand.
He mumbles a quiet apology, already rewrapping Harry’s hand in fresh bandages.
If you had told any Hogwarts student five years ago that one day, Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley would be sitting on the dusty floor of Filch’s dingy custodial closet, having their self-inflicted ‘detentions’ healed and wrapped by Draco Malfoy, they would’ve laughed in your face.
Despite that, the perplexing triad found solace in each others’ presence. No words left needing to be said.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. — Mary Oliver, “Wild Geese”
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comradekarin · 3 months
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too many pretending that diss track was hard so let’s just make a few things clear. nicki, you don’t even own your own masters you ain’t buying no one’s catalogue. nicki, your flow was ass on this track so I know we not talking about megs. meg has openly talked about her alcoholism, so that henny line not what you think it is. nicki, you got your ass beat by meek mill and talked about it in a documentary, you really got the audacity to talk about that leprechaun nigga tory shooting meg (and secretly making #freetory posts before deleting them on twitter) as if you weren’t a victim either. nicki, your HUSBAND can’t be fifty feet within a school zone and you got clocked for giving a thirteen year old boy a lap dance, tf you mean meg humping on a minor (no receipts whatsoever). nicki, the amount of grammies you have is N/A, bringing up meg having three is just pure jealously. talking about meg lying about lipo? as if you didn’t lie about getting work done for years before you had to fess up bc them implants in yo shit popped like a ballon. nicki, talking about the men megan has allegedly slept with and poking fun at her promiscuity aint shit when your man a whole ass rapist and you’re entire fucking M.O is pussy this, sex this, ass this. and not even just your man, your pedo brother too. nicki, you cannot possibly talk about megs mom as if your father isn’t still fresh roadkill. nicki, you went to megs producer/friend asking for a beat and he told yo ass NO, do not say anything about beats. nicki, I know you ain’t talking cash when you been using a.i art the entire gag city era because you can’t afford music videos rn. nicki, your little snide comments about roc nation on twitter is funny as fuck. implying that megan got ghost riders yet you, the so called queen of originality, the so call queen of innovation, is on twitter using/stealing jay z lyrics to diss meg who’s under his management. even bey don’t fuck with you.
these the same bitches that got on remy ma saying shether had bars “but wasn’t true” so it didn’t count. nicki spews a whole bunch of bullshit that counts more as a self read than a diss, and it’s hot shit? a hit dog gon holler, and this dog been wailing at the moon for four days now 😒
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caffiend-queen · 1 month
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Do NOT Say 'Always After My Lucky Charms,' Or I Will Stab You
Welcome to another addition to the Holidays in Hel series! Where Loki and Mina attempt to save the Avengers from yet another catastrophic holiday fuckup.
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I've been cleaning up and adding bits to my Holidays in Hel series because really, it's my favorite. I hope you enjoy, and thank you as always for reading!
Chapter One: An Unmitigated Disaster Awaits
In which Loki and Mina once again find themselves in the middle of a colossal Avengers holiday fuckup. And who knew the Fey Folk were such assholes?
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If there was blame to be assigned for the night that destroyed any charm and mystery left in St. Patrick’s Day, it should really go to The Paddy O’Hoolihan’s, an Irish folk band with a painfully cheesy name. But their music- it was frenzied and delightful, which was why Mina, Wanda, Jane, Pepper, Darcy, and even Natasha were swirling madly in some sort of a jig between each other like a flutter of butterflies, colorful spring dresses flaring out in a pleasing way that exposed a toned thigh or two. They were so fascinating to watch that the rest of the Avengers agreed right then that a Night Out On The Town would be necessary in the hopes of seeing more of this.
“A flutter of butterflies?” Tony blustered. “That can’t be right.”
Loki was seated elegantly on a comfortable chair in the middle of Central Park while most of the other male Avengers were seated in the grass, soaking the seat of their jeans. “A flutter,” he confirmed, watching closely as Mina sent him a saucy little wink. “Known also as a kaleidoscope or a swarm.”
“Swarm isn’t the right word,” mused Steve, still brushing at the green streaks on his pressed chinos. “That sounds like bugs. The girls are definitely butterflies.”
“Butterflies are bugs,” grunted Bucky, eyes closed and soaking in the weak spring sunlight.
“You romantic bastard,” chortled Sam, who was watching Thor capering with the women and getting the dance steps wrong. “I’m gonna go save those ladies from his bigass feet.” 
“That slick son of a bitch,” Tony observed morosely, watching Sam gracefully sweep Pepper under one arm and Natasha with the other.
It was a rare day, a blissful day where nothing was exploding, no one was invading anyone else’s borders, no one was getting kidnapped, and even HYDRA appeared to be taking a long afternoon nap. The Avengers were all lazing in Central Park on an almost unnaturally warm day for March 17th and enjoying a holiday where they were, for once, not urgently needed. Anywhere.
“To St. Patrick’s Day!” toasted Bucky, raising his bottle of Guinness to clink with Steve’s. “So what’s the plan for tonight?”
Tony pulled another bottle from the specialty vibranium cooler that floated next to him, its propulsion jets hissing softly. “Watch the parade from Stark Tower, say a prayer at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and hit The Dead Rabbit Grocery & Grog. The Dropkick Murphy’s are headlining.”
Loki sniffed, still watching keenly as Mina took the hands of an elderly gentleman so wizened and stooped that he could legally be classified as a leprechaun. “My lady and I will be spending the evening safely at the Tower. I do not understand this keen desire for holiday-based mayhem and disaster, but I assure you we shall not participate.”
“Brother!” Thor’s voice was unfortunately right next to Loki’s ear, and God or no, the roar from the oaf seared through his ear canal and scrambled his ganglia. “You must bring the Lady Mina, she will be terribly disappointed! Darcy has been telling her of the majesty of the Celtic celebrations here. She must pay homage to her ancestors.”
Loki frowned. Mina had Irish blood? He would rather crush his own skull with Thor’s hammer than admit that his brother knew something about his Mina that he did not, so he settled for a haughty sniff. “Why must I be the sole sentinel during every holiday on this benighted excuse for a realm to remind you all that it will always, always invariably result in death and destruction? That there will be some unnatural force that will target the Avengers and endanger all those we love? Why must I be the-”
“Hey, did you hear that?” Tony interrupted happily, “Loki looooves Mina!”
And then the tiresome chorus rose from this pack of imbeciles. Loki rolled his eyes, wondering if he sent a hailstorm of toads down upon this crowd if it would immediately be traced back to him. But then his Mina returned and sat down in his lap. Kissing him on the tip of his aquiline nose, she sighed, “And Mina loves Loki, so all of you hush.”
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“Darling, are you indeed of Irish descent?”
Mina looked up from the 3D chemical strain she was modeling for one of Jane’s experiments. “Yes, and Scottish. How did this come up?”
Loki sniffed haughtily. “My oaf of a brother attempted to claim that I must indulge you in a night of drunken excess with the rest of the team as some sort of homage to your heritage. Is this night one that must be dedicated to your ancestors? Is it a sacred rite?”
Giving a very unladylike snort, Mina said, “Nothing sacred about gulping down too much green beer and singing Irish folk songs. But…” Loki groaned internally. His sweet girl had a look of longing as she continued. “But it’s always such a fun night! I get to dance and sing, and the saying is that ‘On St. Patrick’s Day, everyone is Irish.’” She smiled up at him sweetly. “Even you, Loki.”
Lip curled, he snarled, “Do not assign me a heritage from this insignificant rock!” Traditionally, this sort of elegant sneer would quail Mina, but this time, she gave him a sneer of her own. 
“Oh, you do not disrespect my people, Loki!” She quailed slightly before seeing his curled lip stretch into a smile. 
“My, my. Look at my fierce little banshee! I would not think of it.” Mina gave him the sort of shameless, hopeful grin that crumbled the God of Lies and Mischief’s will more often than he’d care to admit. 
Sliding her hands over his broad shoulders, admiring the hard muscle beneath, she asked, “Does that mean you might be willing to join the group tonight at the Dead Rabbit?”
His elegant head pulled back from hers, “What a truly bizarre name. Does the proprietor wish to drive people away from his tavern?”
Mina cackled a bit. “We Irish are tough. We like it rough and difficult.” She instantly realized her mistake as Loki’s pupils flared.
“Really…” he purred, his deep tone more like a rumble against her spine. “You like it, ‘rough,’ do you, darling?”
It was a desperate scramble to get away from her God’s ruthless grasp, but Mina found herself pulling on her old plaid kilt and cream Irish fisherman’s sweater after a promise to show Loki later the bit of “rough” that a good girl from the Emerald Isle could handle. “My lovely Mina,” he approved, stepping behind her in the dressing room mirror to straighten his cuffs. She’d just pulled on some warm black tights and her knee-high riding boots. “You have a very delectable ‘upper-crust schoolgirl’ sort of look here. I find myself quite interested in knowing what good Irish schoolgirls wear under their kilts.”
“Well, I imagine a big, strong man like you can find out for yourself,” Mina answered primly, then leaped over the bench with a yelp when Loki made a sudden move at her. Chuckling, he straightened his tie and strolled sedately after her.
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It was, of course, vile. Loki sighed in a long-suffering way as he surveyed the crowded bar, one hand securely on Mina’s back. “The sun barely set and here are your countrymen, already intoxicated,” he said, leaning in close so she could hear him over the drunken chorus of “Whiskey You’re the Devil.”
“Oh, look!” Mina shouted back, “There they are! In the Snug.”
“I beg your pardon?” Loki raised a brow.
“The Snug,” Mina was the one carving a path through the partygoers, heading for their friends. “There’s one in every proper Irish bar.  It’s the room right off of the bar where the ladies used to go to have a pint or a sherry and not have to worry about being considered loose. Now the bars just rent them out as a VIP space.”
In his usual fashion, Tony had not only bought out the Snug, which had an excellent view of the rest of the pub, but he also had the management re-create the magnificent, shining walnut bar that ran nearly the length of the main room into a private version for the Avengers. When they drew closer, they found Thor in a handstand with one end of a tube in his mouth and the other in a cask of aged whiskey. 
Sam, Clint, Darcy, and the usually shy Bucky were circling the spectacle, shouting “Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!” Thor finished the cask and flipped upright with a flourish, raising his huge arms and roaring in triumph.
“What are you wearing?” Loki frowned, all the men were sporting hideous green plaid patterned neckties, and the more drunken amongst them - namely Clint and Tony - had little green bowler hats perched atop their messy hair.
“It was Tony’s idea, where’s your tie?” asked Bruce, who looked distinctly put out that he’d been forced to wear this itchy novelty neckwear while Loki looked as smooth and perfectly put together as always in an onyx Tom Ford suit.
Loki sniffed, “Ideally, at the bottom of the Hudson River.”
Tony stumbled up behind Loki and Mina, sunglasses askew as he looped an arm around each of them. “Your brother knows how to party, Severus Snape! Let’s tap another cask for you!”
“It is a crime to treat a good whiskey so,” admonished Loki, “and Thor must consume twenty or so of those casks for him to find something even approaching intoxication.” Nonetheless, he found himself relaxing and even amused as his Mina dragged Natasha up on to the bar for a round of Irish Ceili dancing, the Russian gracefully moving along as if she’d performed Irish jigs all her life.
“Man, is there anything Natasha can’t do perfectly?” groused Darcy, watching the footwork until it made her dizzy.
Bucky put his arm around her. “She can’t make that cute little noise you make when I…” She dissolved into a round of giggles and Loki rolled his eyes, looking around the pub. There was a thicket of drunk college students, singing along off-key with the Dropkick Murphys, who’d moved on to “Rose Tattoo.” The main bar was claimed by the regulars, who held court and toasted something new at least every sixty seconds, based on the cheers and clinking of glasses. Small islands of tourists floated through the crowd, gripping a beer mug in one hand and a souvenir Dead Rabbit t-shirt in the other. Irish flags were draped in every corner and the light glowed off the massive selection of alcohol behind the bar, bathing everything in a pleasingly golden glow. And… Loki raised one elegant brow. There was a small group of… small people?
“Little people,” Steve said, leaning in. “The correct phrase is little people.”
“Descendants of a visit long past from a group of lustful and irresponsible Nidavellir,” mused Loki, “the dwarves always eager to spread their seed.”
Steve looked alarmed, “I don’t think you want to be floating that theory, Loki. Especially not here, and not tonight.”
Before the God of Mischief could further discuss Nidavellir sex tourism, he heard a loud “Hellooo, Monty!” from his sweet girl, still tip-tapping away atop the bar.
One of the men broke away from the group and waved eagerly. “Éire go Brách, Mina!” 
Leaping rather gracefully from the bar, she took his small hand, greeting him warmly. “Éire go Brách, Monty! I’m so glad you came.”
The gentlemen had a face like a withered crabapple, all wrinkles and slightly sunken, but when he glanced at Loki, there was a spark of… something in his eye. One trickster always knew another, and he recognized the elderly gentleman she’d favored with a dance that afternoon at the park. “Well, when you promised me another dance, my dear, how could I not?” Monty turned to Loki and bent his head in a courtly gesture, “If your date for the evening has no objection, of course.”
Oddly, Loki did have an objection. The gleam in the small man’s eye was growing brighter, and his own emerald ones narrowed. “And what brings you to New York, Monty? Your accent has all the slurs and ellipses of a Dubliner, born and bred.”
Mina’s new friend threw back his head and laughed grandly, “Ach, you’ve caught me. I am, indeed. But I find that here in America, the Irish celebrate this day with greater enthusiasm.”
Just then the Dropkick Murphys launched into “The Boys are Back” and Mina squealed. “Monty! This is my song, let’s go!” And with a final smirk at Loki, her diminutive beau allowed her to pull him into the crowd. 
He stared after them disapprovingly. The Dead Rabbit was even louder - if possible - than it had been when they arrived and the discordant screech of electric guitar and the accompaniment of the Uilleann pipes rose over the crowd.
The boys are back
The boys are back
The boys are back
And they're looking for trouble
Standing on the highway, ???
I'm missing my home, and it's killing me
Down the ramp past the jail, I'm feeling alright
Bought roses for my ladies from a corner delight
It's time to get ready for that song and dance
Let's go my friends, it's time to take a chance
We're back in town, we're gonna get it done
We got nowhere to hide, we got nowhere to run
It's been a long time coming,
It's been a long time coming,
The boys are back
The boys are back
The boys are back
And they're looking for trouble
And in the blink of an eye, Mina and her questionable dance partner were swallowed up into the crowd. “Did he not seem unnatural to you?” Loki asked Tony, who was leaning heavily on his shoulder and wrinkling the perfect cut of his jacket.
Tony stumbled back, “Woah, Lokes, prejudiced much? What’s next, snide comments about the little people always being after your Lucky Charms?” He said the last in a deplorably bad Irish accent, and Loki’s brow furrowed. Tony (partially sober) was just barely endurable. Completely intoxicated Tony was a punishment that could make the strongest Asgardian choose Odin’s dungeons over Stark Tower.
Bucky gently elbowed Tony into a seat, where his head tipped back and a gentle snore rose from his slack mouth. “Ignore him, Loki. What’s the problem?”
“Most pressing,” he said, “is that my dear Mina seems to have disappeared into this drunken throng with a most untrustworthy creature.”
“Takes one to know one,” Bucky agreed, but he refused to take offense, still searching the crowd. Looking around, he frowned. “And where’s Darcy and Jane? And Pepper? And Natasha?” By now the others were closing in. Thor shouldered his way into the knot of drunken, flailing New Yorkers and Clint hopped up on the table.
Pale hands shooting out, Loki sent a silver stream of energy that coiled and ripped around the pub, curling and snaking along, but there was no sign of the women. “By the NORNIR!” he shouted. “Why? Why must it always be the holidays? You Avengers are a curse, I swear it!”
“Huh?” Tony woke up, standing and rubbing his face. “What?”
Loki turned on him. “You will never heed my warning, will you? All our women- they are gone. Gone!”
“Aw, damn,” sighed Steve, "AGAIN?"
Chapter Two is up tomorrow. You know, the one with all the smut.
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I'm starting over with a vague memory of who might like my Loki and Avengers tales. If you would like on or off this list, please let me know! Thank you. Mwah!
@what-is-your-plan-today
@sweater-daddiesdumbdork
@the-soulofdevil
@americasass81
@mdemontespan1667
@sultry-rachael
@myoxisbroken
@gigglingtiggerv2
@notpedeka
@narnianarcher
@sylviefromneptune
@winterslove1917
@kimanne723
@hawkeyes-queen
@grymrayven
@stevihj
@lizette50
@jevans2
@wolfsmom1
@devikafernando
@wegingerangelica
@nildespirandum
@alexakeyloveloki
@thebatshitcrazyfangirl
@thehumming6ird
@archy3001
@iheartsebastianstan
@tomstinkerbell
@wolfpawn
@rayofdawnworld
@thecutestlittlebunbunfairy
@dangertoozmanykids101
@alexakeyloveloki
@nuggsmum
@boredbrooder
@fairlightswiftly
@inkededucatednnerdy
@nonsensicalobsessions
@viv-annelore
@eleniblue
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socialfakes · 3 months
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the devils in the details- luke hughes
chapter 2; part 4: ziggy & copacabana
nhl x platonic!fem!reader
eventual luke hughes x fem!reader
nico hischier x fem!reader
the masterlist
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Liked by trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale, lhughes_06 and 3,174 others
yourinstagram | as promised, here is proof that i still have ziggy 😊 and to make sure he’s not lonely, we got stardust (his new brother) ❤   tagged: lhughes_06, trevorzegras
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trevorzegras i never had a doubt 😊 and did you say ‘we’ then tag luke? 🧐  | yourinstagram yeah he was with me when i bought the polar bear  | trevorzegras so that would make him the father?  | yourinstagram if he’s the father of stardust, does that make you the father of ziggy? 🤨  | trevorzegras you’re damn right it does!😏 | yourinstagram i have full custody ❤
nicohischier ziggy has bed privileges & it’s insane 😂  | yourinstagram someone sounds jealous 😉❤
jackhughes ziggy & stardust? really?  | yourinstagram yeah. got a problem? 😂
lhughes_06 we agreed on shared custody, right?  | yourinstagram luke, you live in the room across from mine. there's no point in shared custody 😂
_quinnhughes guess i'm gonna have to get you a stuffed animal so you won’t forget me 👀  | yourinstagram i could never forget you ❤
user14 are you back with luke and jack?  | yourinstagram yes. got back today
user07 what’s it like living with 2 of the hottest guys ever?  | yourinstagram it’s chaotic 😂 just kidding. they’re literally the best 😊
bboeser we miss you already over on the west coast 😔
user05 these are the cutest stuffed animals i have ever seen 😍
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Liked by jackhughes, nicohischier, lhughes_06 and 6,142 others
yourinstagram | alexa, play copacabana 🎶🥥   tagged: jackhughes, _quinnhughes
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jackhughes can’t tell if you like the picture or if you’re making fun of us  | yourinstagram always making fun of you specifically jack 😉
lhughes_06 where was i?  | yourinstagram inside the whole time probably  | lhughes_06 right 🙄
elblue6 I love that song!
bboeser a lake house memory?  | yourinstagram yes sir
user03 they’re so cute omg  | yourinstagram for real
user12 please post more hughes content. It seems like you have the best pics of them 😊  | yourinstagram lucky for you I have a whole folder on my phone filled with blackmail pictures of not only them, but some of our friends as well 😉
colecaufield this was my first summer at the lake house 😊
jamie.drysdale you’re lame  | yourinstagram well ouch 🥺😔💔
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yourinstagram | trying to figure out how to become a palm tree 🌴🤔
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bboeser i'm sorry, WHAT?!?
_quinnhughes tf? should we be concerned?
jackhughes you know i support you in everything you do but i think i need to draw the line somewhere 😂
lhughes_06 i'll join you in this journey 🌴
nicohischier your humor is top tier, babe ❤
user12 we should be concerned, right?
tdemko30 what are you going on about now? thought you were trying to figure out how to become a leprechaun 😂
trevorzegras wow that’s wild y/n
elblue6 you okay sweetie? 😲
user08 love how luke supports her and ellen is genuinely concerned 😂
jamie.drysdale all that coconut water has gone to your head darling 🙃
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taglist: @worldlxvlys
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