Gremlin Scribbles

He knows of you vaguely as the apartment two doors down from his that's always toeing the line of some sort of noise complaint. two small kids, four and five respectively. Cute things he sometimes passes in the stairwell since the elevator broke.

"Ewwww!!! What is that!!"

Like now, for example. Arms full of grocery bags, ghost turns the corner to the next flight and finds the wee ones crouched in a corner pointing at something. You sit a few steps up, bags next to you and seemingly taking a breather from the multiple flights.

"Morning, Mr riley." You smile, exhausted. Ghost nods back, then curiously glances over the kid's shoulders when they beging loudly pondering.

"It's an alien!!" Your little girl says, poking at it. "Alien–"

"That's a proper millipede, innit." Ghost grunts above them. He knees down between the two, and lets the long insect crawl onto his hand, holding it up for your kids. "S' the flat face? An' the multiple legs on each segment? Millipede."

You daughter gasps in amazement at the same time your son asks "does it bite?"

"Only kids who don't do their chores." Ghost snorts, then holds it out and gently strokes a single finger along its back "you can pet it."

Which is how your tiny ones end up asking ghost what seems lile a hundred questions about millipedes, then centipedes, and bugs in general.

He answers each one, and after some time sets the bug back down and says "I'll show you more bugs if you help carry groceries in, yeah?"

While your kids grab one bag each, ghost insists on carrying the rest in addition to his own, has the audacity to glare at you when you reach for some.

That night, your kids beg to go to the library to pick out books about bugs, wanting to impress their new friend mr simon.

Larger than life, the sheer size of him only more exaggerated by the fact you've always been on the short size. You hear almost everyday how difficult it will be, your supposedly giant baby. Honestly, you're worried too, though you suspect konig is the most stressed.

"I broke the record in my hospital, schatzi. Fifteen pounds. Schatzi, Do you hear me." Which. As one would predict, only served to make you more nervous.

Then the day comes and....they're...small.

Tiny, little babies. Twins, how the hell it was missed it beyond you. Your husband is well over six feet, weighs a solid three hundred and some pounds, and his two new babies can easily be held in one hand each.

As the shock of everything settles in, you both learn that your babies will absolutely scream and wail if konig attempts to hold them normally, only settling properly when curled up in his hands. He's practically crying all the time from how fragile they are compared to him.

Seeing the tiny pairs of socks he sews for them has you crying, too. He loves them so so much.

Your favorite memory is watching the little ones, now a bit older but still so small, snuggling together on konigs back while he naps, enough space they can't easily roll off.

*𝑩𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑬𝒍𝒑𝒊𝒔*