a psa : please check out @mullthingsoverinthehotwater (me) for more information on requests, activity & the like! i’m not as personal on this blog, so you’ll find me on that one. i love you all <3
begging for jealous tasm peter. ITS A NEED. JUST best friends to lovers 🙏🏼
thank you so much for this request i LOVED writing this. mostly light angst but fluff at the end | tasm!peter x fem!reader, 1.5k words | cw: a little bit of language and one offhanded mention of sex
Your lipstick is smudged, Peter notices. He waits a minute to tell you, not wanting that to be the first thing to say when you come out of your room. Instead, he says
“You look…” his face is contemplative and strained. His lips are pursed and his eyes are slightly squinted like he’s holding himself back; you can’t tell from what. You look down at your feet, inspecting the hem of your dress and the toes of your heels as if they’ve somehow changed since the last time you looked. “...Nice.” He clears his throat. “Clean up well.”
“Am I normally not cleaned up?” You grin at him in an attempt to restore your normal dynamic, waiting for him to make a jest at you then promptly apologize and give an overdramatic speech about how you’re the best best friend in the world to make it up to you.
He makes a noise from deep in his throat that never makes it all the way out. You think it might’ve been a laugh.
“Who’s the lucky guy?” his voice is outwardly cheery and teasing, but you know him too well. There’s the smallest trace of bitterness; his upward lilt doesn’t quite quirk up the same, and his words feel too precisely chosen as if each one takes a considerable amount of effort to say.
You search his face for a clearer indication of his intentions, but he avoids your eye contact.
“Just… a guy Lillith set me up with. You know how it’s been.” He does. You’ve complained to both him and your friend Lillith about how you haven’t gotten a date in months. You felt like guys avoided you like the plague whenever you went out, and worse, some would cancel as soon as you confirmed a date. It was miserable. “His name is Doug, uh, he’s in Kappa Delta Tau. It’s blind, I, uh, haven’t met him yet.”
He nods, eyes fiercely inspecting the wall next to you. “Your lipstick is a little smudged. Just- just there,” he motions on his own face to where the dark red pigment has bled out over your lipline. You try to get it, unsuccessfully. Peter sucks in a breath.
“Let me just…” you scurry away to the bathroom to fix it, secretly hoping, too, that when you come back the weird awkward tension between you and Peter will be diffused. You’ve lived with each other for almost a year and never had this issue until tonight. It’s throwing you off, that one-minute interaction, and your stomach almost aches with the confusion of it all.
When you return, Peter is sitting on the couch with a book in hand. It’s something complex and sciencey and you can’t tell whether he’s actively reading or if it’s just something to pass the time.
“I still have an hour. You want to turn something on?” you ask, sitting on the couch behind him and folding your legs under you. You figure your dress can handle a little wrinkling in favor of checking up on your best friend.
“Whatever you want.” He briefly glances up from his book before continuing to read.
“Uh, okay.” You flip through the channels idly, settling on a sitcom you and Peter have both seen a million times. You turn the volume down low and take a breath, trying to face the inevitable question head-on instead of worrying about it all night on your date. “Are you okay, Peter? You seem a little… off.” You try to sound as non-judgmental as possible, scooting slightly closer to Peter. He stiffens.
“I’m fine,” he says, clearing his throat again. “Are you guys, um, having dinner, or do you want me to make something? We have stuff for the pasta we never made last week.”
You breathe a sigh of relief at the relative normalcy, but there is still a palpable tension in the air.
“I don’t really know what our plans are. He said he was going to pick me up but not much else.”
“Sounds sort of sketchy, Y/N. You sure Lillith knows this guy well? I heard about that one Kappa that-”
“There’s a million different awful frat guy stories, Pete. I know. I’m well aware. Lillith knows him, I’ll be fine.” You’re trying not to get irritated with Peter but this is your one date in forever that it seems is actually going to happen, and if he freaks you out so much you refuse to go then it’s all for nothing.
“You want me to put my suit on and… keep an eye on you guys? I don’t know, just for a little, make sure nothing goes wrong.” He doesn’t meet your eye.
“No, Peter, it’s fine, I swear. I’ll be safe.”
“Call me if you feel the least bit uncomfortable. I’ll come get you. How about you text me every thirty-”
“Peter! I’m not some… some damsel in distress that you need to rescue. I’m a big girl. I don't know why all of a sudden you’re trying to control me or something. I am perfectly capable of being independent, I- This is my first date in forever, and it’s like you don’t trust my judgment and… It’s really pissing me off.” You don’t mince words, and try to pull back tears before you ruin your makeup. Peter softens a little, scooting towards you and trying to put a comforting hand on your arm. You're the one to stiffen this time.
There’s a beat as Peter decides what to say. Your tear-filled eyes meet his honey-brown ones, loaded with some sort of emotion you can’t decipher.
“I’m not trying to control you, sweetheart. I’m not. I don't- I just want to protect you.” He says, slowly, as if the words pain him to say.
“Protect me from what, Peter? Finally getting laid?”
“No, just- He’s… that Doug guy, he’s not good for you.” He grimaces, shaking his head a little bit.
“What? You don’t even know him. You’ve-you’ve never met him.” You’re nearly exasperated at this point, confused and bewildered that Peter would act like this. He won’t meet your eyes anymore. You take a big breath. “How could you possibly know he’s not good for me?”
“Because he’s not me!” Peter nearly yells, snapping his head to look at you. His response comes immediately after you, practically interrupting you with an unparalleled urgency. It’s as if a ticking time bomb had been simmering this entire time, and it was bound to explode. You’re left dumbstruck.
There’s a long stretch of silence. You open and close your mouth like a koi fish, trying to speak with nothing to say. You’ve always been in love with Peter. You’d pushed it down until it was invisible, suffocated, fit into a tiny box that only got to see the light during late nights spent crying in your room. He’s your best friend. It’s always been a want-but-can-never-have, and even if you could, you figured it was unrequited.
In short, this is new information. You don’t know what to say or how to say it, and seemingly neither does Peter.
“I…” you blubber, staring into Peter’s eyes. “I didn’t know you… I’ve always, um…” you squeeze your eyes shut as if ripping off the bandaid. “...liked you. Well, loved you, really, but I never figured-”
Peter cuts you off with a kiss that satisfies everything you’d ever wanted. It feels like something out of a movie. It rises and crescendos and before you know it you're pulling away for air. A little laugh escapes you, and Peter has the biggest grin on his face you’ve ever seen. Your foreheads are just barely touching, and he presses another small, sweet kiss to your lips.
“I love you, too, if that wasn’t clear,” Peter says. You smile.
“So I’ll cancel my date with Doug?” You ask. You think you might have stars in your eyes, or hearts that get bigger the more you stare at him.
“Fuck Doug. I don't want to hear about Doug.” Peter nuzzles your nose a little, and your stomach lurches from excitement.
“Yeah?”
“I want to hear about you. You’ve always liked me, huh?” He says a bit cockily.
“Always. I dunno, I never figured you’d reciprocate,” you reply.
“Really? I figured it was obvious. You didn’t see the drool coming out of my mouth when you walked out in that little dress?” he smirks, caressing your hip lightly. Your cheeks rouge in response.
“I was too busy looking at the anger in your eyes. Seemed like you wanted to strangle me.”
“I wanted to strangle whoever else got to see you like that. Who you dressed up for.” He kisses your neck, trailing down your exposed collarbone.
“It’s always for you, Peter. Just you. I chose this dress because I thought you’d like it,” your voice is barely a whisper, but Peter hears you. He always does.
tasm! Peter just kissing reader any chance he gets, like she comes home with groceries? kiss. she wakes up next to him? kiss. its like Peter has an addiction haha
here you go! i love writing for peter so send more. this is kind of short but cute i think | fem!reader, 0.6k words
It’s hard to tell whether it’s still too early to be up or stretching into the late morning. Your eyes are bleary with sleep, and open gradually; the light streaming in from your apartment windows, though soft and warm, feels blinding.
As soon as your eyes open you see Peter, lying opposite to you. He’s staring at you, intensely focusing on your face, and his arm, you now notice, is tucked under your side. If it was anyone else you’d be worried about hurting them, but it would be very hard for you to hurt Peter. You’re well aware that he’s not invincible - have patched up too many scratches and wounds to be that delusional - but being Spiderman has its perks.
“Hi,” you say quietly, clearing your throat.
“Was waiting for you to wake up so I could kiss you.” Peter’s voice is thick with morning. Gravelly. Deep. It’s very attractive, but you don’t tell him that. You just smile at his tenderness and try to squeeze closer, bury your head in his chest. He doesn’t let you, reaching his free arm to gently push your chin up with his fingers. He forces you into eye contact, locking his honey-brown gaze on you before he lets it drop down to your lips. You nod just barely in silent permission, and he leans in to give you a warm, sweet kiss. It’s a while before you break away, but Peter’s not done; he peppers the entire area around and on your mouth with tiny little kisses, showering you with affection. You preen at the praise and don’t try to push him away, waiting until he stops. When he does, he’s the one to bury his head into your chest, nuzzling into you.
“We need to get up, Pete. Have to go get groceries,” you say into his hair, and he groans in response.
“Don’t want to…” he trails off, but rolls over onto the other side of the bed to put on his glasses.
“You can stay here if you want. We only need a few things, I don’t mind going on my own.” He hums in response.
“I should probably go for a run or something. Need to get out of the house,” he says, running his hands through his hair and getting up to put clothes on. You do the same, and soon you’re both about to leave the house. “Kiss before you go?” he pleads, and you can’t help but oblige. He leans in to kiss you, a small peck but full of love nonetheless.
You go off on your respective errands. Yours is a quick walk to the grocery store (where you spend more time than expected, courtesy of shopping on an empty stomach). Peter goes for a run, just a brief one to burn some morning energy. He comes back before you do, hopping in the shower. He gets out right as you arrive home.
“I’m home, Pete! Sorry, got distracted. They had a sale on your favorite bagels, so I had to get some, then I figured you needed more-”
You’re cut off by Peter appearing into the entryway and immediately pressing a kiss to your lips. You’re startled but reciprocate, pulling away only to rest your forehead against his. He’s only halfway dressed, and you still have a bagful of groceries in your hand.
“Sorry. Can’t help it,” Peter says into your lips, nuzzling your nose with his. “You’re- you’re fine,” you reply. Truth is, he’s more than fine. You willingly sustain his constant desire, addiction, to kiss you. Little does he know, it’s the best part of your day.
requested: here
pairing: tasm!peter parker x shy!reader
summary: you want to watch a movie with peter on your first night in your new apartment. he has other plans.
wc: 1k of pure fluff
note: thanks for requesting!! i tried my best with shy!r but i am very not shy so if it's awkward apologies :)
“It’s a crime.” Your tone of voice is mock-serious, with the face to match, but Peter can tell that there’s a smile creeping on your lips.
“I’m sorry!!” he replies, putting his hands up.
“When Harry Met Sally is a classic, Peter. I watch it at least twice a year.”
“Really? Twice a year?” He’s not seriously questioning your movie-watching habits, but you read it wrong and try to backtrack.
“I mean… I don’t know, it’s a really good movie. I-I don’t know how you haven’t seen it,” you look down at your hands where the DVD sits. You had been unpacking boxes into your and Peter’s new apartment when you stumbled upon it, unable to resist pulling it out.
“I’m sure it is, bug. I trust your judgment. We can watch it tonight, if you wanna?” His reassurance is enough, and you let yourself grin at him unabashedly.
“Can we?” you’re brimming with excitement. It’s not just the film; it’s Peter, it’s the fact that you live together now. You think that you could watch a movie with him every night for the rest of your life and be perfectly content to do so.
A few hours later, the apartment is still not fully unpacked. But you have a couch, and a TV; you decide to have microwave popcorn for dinner and deal with the rest of it in the morning.
You put the movie in and join Peter on the sofa. His arms are open and you happily cuddle up into him, wrapping a blanket around you and munching on your popcorn. His arm is snug around you and you’re leaning into the crook of his neck. He presses soft kisses to the crown of your head when the movie starts. You ignore him, at first, used to his regular affections and thinking he’ll settle in a few minutes.
A few minutes pass and Peter’s hand has now crept into yours. You’re partially too focused on the movie to notice and partially love him too much to care. He starts to toy with your fingers, blatantly not paying attention to the movie anymore and looking at your face.
“Give me a kiss,” he says, under his breath. You oblige, of course, turning away from the movie to press your lips against his. His hand slips from yours and flattens against your waist, trying his best to pull you closer towards him. You pull away.
“Peter, you have to watch. We’re getting to the good part, promise,” you say, detaching his hand from your side and placing it on the back of the couch.
“They don’t even like each other yet… is this a slow burn or no burn, baby? Kinda silly to watch two people not be in love when the girl I’m madly in love with is sitting right here, in just dire need of my attention.” His voice is full of theatrical drama, typical Peter, and he punctures his words with little kisses to your forehead (for emphasis, of course).
“That’s what makes it so good, though! It’s…” You’re distracted by his kisses moving down to your neck and you soften a little in his arms. “They do love each other, they’re just in denial. That’s what makes it so great when they finally get together.”
“Ah. And when will that be?” He looks at you and you both can’t help but giggle.
“You have to be patient, Pete. Good things come with time.”
“I’ve never been a patient man,” he replies and actually uses his strength this time to pull you up and into his lap.
“Peter, you have to watch!” you say, no real urgency behind your voice, and he shakes his head vigorously, pressing a bunch of teeny little kisses all over your face and nuzzling his nose into your neck. You get overwhelmed with all the love, blushing profusely and tipping your head down to try to avoid his affection. It’s a futile attempt, really, and he just lifts your chin up in response, pressing a slow, sweet kiss to your lips.
“Don’t get all shy on me, now, bug,” Peter says when you pull apart.
“Want you to watch the movie.” Your voice is quiet, and you press the top of your head firmly against his chest to prevent any more kisses.
“Well I want to watch you,” he says, rubbing your back sweetly. You can hear the smile in his voice. You lift your head up only to glare daggers at him; you know if you try to say words to him all that will come out is happy, nervous noises (courtesy of his over-the-top and, in your opinion, unwarranted affection). “Okay, fine, fine, fine. I’ll watch. You need to sit on the other side of the couch or something, though, baby. Too distracting.” You smile and oblige, scooting over to sit with your feet facing him, sideways on the sofa.
You last about three minutes in that position before Peter makes a noise akin to a whine.
“Come back over here, I miss you too much. Changed my mind.” He makes grabby hands at you, and you once again comply. You really can never say no to him, especially when he pulls those big brown puppy dog eyes on you. You return to your original position, cuddled up into his side, and he’s grinning at you.
“You’re still not watching the movie, Pete,” you scold with no real malice.
“Okay, okay. Okay. I’ll watch. I do think this Harry guy should just… I dunno, grow a pair and confess, you know?”
“Peter… that wouldn’t make a very good movie, babe.”
“Well it worked out for me, didn’t it?” He grins, kissing your cheek, and you can’t help but preen at his constant affection. Harry and Sally, the movie couple, have nothing on you, you think.
tasm! Peter just kissing reader any chance he gets, like she comes home with groceries? kiss. she wakes up next to him? kiss. its like Peter has an addiction haha
here you go! i love writing for peter so send more. this is kind of short but cute i think | fem!reader, 0.6k words
It’s hard to tell whether it’s still too early to be up or stretching into the late morning. Your eyes are bleary with sleep, and open gradually; the light streaming in from your apartment windows, though soft and warm, feels blinding.
As soon as your eyes open you see Peter, lying opposite to you. He’s staring at you, intensely focusing on your face, and his arm, you now notice, is tucked under your side. If it was anyone else you’d be worried about hurting them, but it would be very hard for you to hurt Peter. You’re well aware that he’s not invincible - have patched up too many scratches and wounds to be that delusional - but being Spiderman has its perks.
“Hi,” you say quietly, clearing your throat.
“Was waiting for you to wake up so I could kiss you.” Peter’s voice is thick with morning. Gravelly. Deep. It’s very attractive, but you don’t tell him that. You just smile at his tenderness and try to squeeze closer, bury your head in his chest. He doesn’t let you, reaching his free arm to gently push your chin up with his fingers. He forces you into eye contact, locking his honey-brown gaze on you before he lets it drop down to your lips. You nod just barely in silent permission, and he leans in to give you a warm, sweet kiss. It’s a while before you break away, but Peter’s not done; he peppers the entire area around and on your mouth with tiny little kisses, showering you with affection. You preen at the praise and don’t try to push him away, waiting until he stops. When he does, he’s the one to bury his head into your chest, nuzzling into you.
“We need to get up, Pete. Have to go get groceries,” you say into his hair, and he groans in response.
“Don’t want to…” he trails off, but rolls over onto the other side of the bed to put on his glasses.
“You can stay here if you want. We only need a few things, I don’t mind going on my own.” He hums in response.
“I should probably go for a run or something. Need to get out of the house,” he says, running his hands through his hair and getting up to put clothes on. You do the same, and soon you’re both about to leave the house. “Kiss before you go?” he pleads, and you can’t help but oblige. He leans in to kiss you, a small peck but full of love nonetheless.
You go off on your respective errands. Yours is a quick walk to the grocery store (where you spend more time than expected, courtesy of shopping on an empty stomach). Peter goes for a run, just a brief one to burn some morning energy. He comes back before you do, hopping in the shower. He gets out right as you arrive home.
“I’m home, Pete! Sorry, got distracted. They had a sale on your favorite bagels, so I had to get some, then I figured you needed more-”
You’re cut off by Peter appearing into the entryway and immediately pressing a kiss to your lips. You’re startled but reciprocate, pulling away only to rest your forehead against his. He’s only halfway dressed, and you still have a bagful of groceries in your hand.
“Sorry. Can’t help it,” Peter says into your lips, nuzzling your nose with his. “You’re- you’re fine,” you reply. Truth is, he’s more than fine. You willingly sustain his constant desire, addiction, to kiss you. Little does he know, it’s the best part of your day.
So happy to see another Harry Potter lover out there! 👓⚡️❤️ Whenever it’s convenient for you, what would you think of a Jily Lives AU fic where Harry introduces the reader to his parents and they approve of her? Good luck with everything else!
yay oh my goodness i'm so happy to get a request for him! i know i said i'd write for poly!marauders next but no one sent anything in so here this is. haven't written in forever so apologies for sloppiness | h.p. x fem!reader, 1.5k words
You’re trying to ignore the discomfort of apparating, but it’s a nearly impossible task as your body transports from one location to the next. Your being seems to push and pull simultaneously against itself, and it feels awful.
You make it through, however, despite your mother’s persistent cries of worry that you’d arrive somewhere other than Godric’s Hollow, or, God forbid, splinch en route. Despite her concern, you arrive safely, landing on the well-kept grass outside the Potter residence. You unlock the gate just as Harry told you to and enter.
The house is beautiful. It’s modest, considering their affluence, but showcases their taste and money in the most elegant of ways; wisteria creeps up the half-timber walls, and delicately pruned flowerboxes decorate each window. It’s clearly well-loved, with warm lighting bleeding out from the inside, brooms placed haphazardly in the yard, and three pairs of muddy wellies near the front door. It’s the house of a true family. You can feel the love from the outside.
You take a deep breath and walk up to the door, adjusting your skirt and the wrapping of Harry’s birthday present, which sits in your arms alongside the bouquet of flowers you brought for his parents. Harry speaks nothing but praise of James and Lily, and you feel you need to impress them. You’ve been dating for enough months now that you both decided the time was right to meet his parents, and the perfect time arose when he suggested you stay with him for his birthday and onwards until you go back to school.
The lion-shaped knocker daunts you, but you courageously lift your hand to rap it against the door. Inside, you hear a shuffle of feet and laughter before the door opens to reveal your boyfriend.
He immediately grins and greets you with a tentative hug (given the gifts in your arms) and a kiss on the cheek. He then pulls back and says your name, all at once tender and absconding, hand still on your waist as he speaks.
“You didn’t have to,” he says, looking into your eyes adoringly. “You really didn’t need to bring anything. You looking this stunning is a present in itself.”
“I wanted to, Harry,” you reassure him, cheeks rouging. You smile shyly and use your free hand to run through his soft, dark curls. “Hair’s gotten long.”
“Been meaning to have my mum cut it. Keeps getting in my eyes when I play quidditch,” he says, pushing it back himself.
“I like it. I can show you how to pin it back, if you want, or lend you a headband in the meantime.” He nods back, a wide smile on his face. You feel slightly awkward, just looking at him, admiring him, but he’s told you before it’s in your rights as his girlfriend. He’s so pretty that you almost forget about the precarious presents nestled in your arms.
“Let me take those, at least,” he says, gently grabbing the flowers and gift from you. You thank him quietly, slipping your shoes off and placing them next to his familiar Converse by the door. He walks into the living area, adjacent to the kitchen, and you trail behind. His parents are sitting on the couch with their backs facing you, and they stand when they hear you come in.
Lily is gorgeous. Her vibrant red hair is shorter, now, but equally as lustrous as the photos of her in her youth - when Harry was just a baby - that he keeps on his nightstand. Her eyes are a radiant blue-green, and in person, they match Harry’s own even more than you thought. They hold the same kindness and complexity, and her smile lights them up with joy. James is similarly handsome, almost a perfect picture of Harry other than the eyes. His hair has small, barely visible streaks of silver, and his stubble showcases his maturity and elegance as he grows older. They’re both dressed casually, comfortably, and you feel slightly silly in your skirt and tights. Harry’s earlier comment reassures you, and you straighten up.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Potter,” you say as Harry puts your flowers on the dining room table.
“Y/N brought flowers!” Harry says happily, returning to his spot by your side.
“Isn’t that just the sweetest?” Lily says, grinning. “You can call us James and Lily, dear, no need for the formality,” she adds on. James nods in accord.
Harry moves you by the small of your back towards the center of the living room, where his parents stand.
“Mum, Dad, this is Y/N,” Harry introduces you, and Lily leans in to give you a hug. She smells wonderfully comforting, floral and sweet, and you happily reciprocate.
“Believe us, we know,” James jokes under his breath, “Harry here never shuts up about you.”
You blush, even though you know it’s true. Harry never shuts up about you when you’re sitting right in front of him, no matter how much you sheepishly push him away or reject his compliments.
You make idle conversation, school and the summer, before Lily announces that dinner is ready. She’s made Harry’s favorite roast and copious dessert, treacle tart upon treacle tart. Harry’s face lights up when he sees it all laid out, and you have to admit that the smell has you practically drooling.
During dinner, James and Lily ask little questions about your relationship. One would think they’d be interrogating you, prodding to discern whether you’re good enough for their son, but that seems to be the last thing on their minds; they’ve turned all their questioning onto Harry himself.
“Did you at least get her flowers on your first date? You better have walked her back to her dormitory like a gentleman, Harry,” James admonishes.
“He did, he did,” you assure. “He’s a complete gentleman. Spoils me, truly.” Harry smiles beside you, nudging your leg with his.
“Good,” James replies, smiling at his son’s small displays of affection.
The rest of the evening is spent with lively, happy conversation and bouts of laughter. His parents ask you about your studies, your hobbies, your background, but never prod. You feel perfectly comfortable and familiar; it’s like being around family, despite only meeting them today.
Harry is thrilled when you get to dessert, as always, but you’re slightly somber as the meal comes to a close. It’s Harry’s birthday, and you’re excited to give him his present, but you don’t want to leave Godric’s Hollow and return home.
Once you finish your meal, you get up to do your dishes, but James and Lily quickly shoot you down and tell you to stay in the living room with Harry.
“You two lovebirds can have some alone time before we do presents, how about that?” Lily says sweetly, clearing the rest of the plates and disappearing to the kitchen.
You sit on the couch with Harry, head nestled into his shoulder as he draws small circles into your hip. Somehow, he can sense your barely showing melancholy, and of course asks about it.
“What’s on your mind, hm?” He asks, running a finger softly across your cheek. The tenderness in his eyes wills you to tell the truth, even if it seems silly.
“Just don’t want to go home. It’s so lovely here, and your parents are just the sweetest,” you say honestly.
“They really love you. I can tell,” he replies. “You don’t have to go, you know. They’d be happy for you to stay here. When I told them you were only here for the evening they said it was a bummer, actually.”
“Really?” you ask, smiling. “I suppose my mom wouldn’t mind. I don’t have any of my stuff, though.”
“We probably have whatever you need. Could borrow my clothes, and my mom keeps extra of pretty much everything,” Harry says, pressing a small kiss to your forehead.
“Alright, I… I mean I would love to, if it’s not too much trouble. I can stay on the couch or in another room or something if your parents don’t want me sleeping with you.”
“They’d be fine, I’m sure,” he says, smiling at you fondly. He gives you a proper kiss, now, as you sit up closer to him. Just as you pull away his parents come back in, Lily holding a multitude of presents for Harry’s birthday.
“Mum, Y/N is going to stay the night, if that’s alright?” Harry asks, and both his parents nod cheerily.
“Oh, yes! I hope your room is in good shape, he’s not the neatest of boys as I’m sure you know,” Lily says, winking at you.
“She can stay in my room, then?”
“Of course. We’re not stupid, Harry, we were young and in love once too,” James says, sitting down in an armchair opposite you two.
You smile happily to yourself. Nothing feels so perfect, you think, as you give Harry his presents and wind down for the night. Godric’s Hollow, well, the Potter’s, feels like home.
I have been inactive for over a year, and let me tell y'all it has been a ride. I started this blog when I was really trying to work on myself while attempting to make my grandparents proud. Unfortunately, I learned I could not do both at the same time because making them proud involved losing a piece of me and not standing up for what I believed in.
Now I do not care what political party you affiliate yourself with, that is your business, I do care though about how you treat others. I personally think if you are going to discriminate against someone by their sexual orientation, skin color, religion, etc you are the lowest living form in the universe. Unfortunately, my grandparents are those types of people, and I use to make excuses and say "It's because they were raised different," or "Things have changed since they were my age," but the truth of the matter is the mindset and belief that another human being is less than based on everything I listed above is absolute bullshit.
When I stood up to them I was kicked out of their house, which would be fine except for the fact I had no support system of any kind. Which ultimately meant I had to move back to my home state. (A blessing in disguise). In that moment I stood up for what I believed in and I was proud of myself, no matter how much I lost.
Moving back across the country led to many more struggles I faced. Transferring jobs, and finding a place to live (ON MY OWN) while struggling with my mental health. I really lost myself there for a while, a year to be exact. I am starting to feel more like myself and I want to get back into writing and sharing the love with everyone on this app. This app truly became my safe place and I want to get back to that.
With all that being said, I know I do not have to explain myself to anyone on here but I lost a few followers and many of my mutuals have been worried about me. I overall feel like I have let my followers down. However, I wanted to say: that I am back, and I am working on being okay again.
I would love for more requests in my inbox or even just a positive note. (Everything in my inbox was deleted for some reason). I will link my "read before requesting" so everyone can look at it.
I am reworking on Memories of Estelle, so that has been taken down to fix some plot holes, etc.
Any blurbs, headcanons, etc are welcomed. I need some inspiration and would love to create pieces you guys will love.
Finally, I solemnly swear, I am up to no good.
xoxo, Father Marty
-(I am going to tag a few of my mutual just so I can spread the word)
@angel-tears15 @sai-kida134 @isolemnlyswear @hufflepogue @amazingzou
come get your fictional husbands here!! right over here!!
(hello writers!! this post is solely for the personal organization of my blog. if you feel uncomfortable with this and would like me to remove you, just let me know <33)
quick psa if you’re an 18+ only blog please don’t interact with my writing? i don’t understand the logic when i clearly have that i’m a minor in my bio yet people are interacting with me
i always try to follow my followers back and support them in return so the logic of liking and reblogging a minor’s work when you want no minors on your blog whatsoever is flawed.
ope i’m 2 away from 700 on this blog and almost at 1000 on my other one 🥰 go follow @mullthingsoverinthehotwater if you’re from here and follow this acc if you’re from there lol
