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spooky-holtz · 4 months

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Kelly Green

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: fluff, some VERY suggestive language, alludes heavily to smut

Word Count: 2.3k

Prompt: "mel x reader where they’re dating and the r keeps stealing mel’s eagles sweatshirt and one day mel finds the reader all curled up on the couch sleeping with the sweater on.."

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“Honey?” You hear Melissa call in your shared bedroom from where you sit at the bathroom vanity that was once just hers. The products that litter the surface are a mix of both of yours; Melissa’s various pens and bottles sitting on one side, neatly tucked into a makeup back, your own strewn across the surface as you try to prepare yourself for the day ahead, “Have you seen my lucky sweatshirt anywhere?”

You know exactly the one she’s talking about. It’s game day so there is only one item of clothing she will wear and it’s her relic of a sweatshirt. The heather grey material is a little discolored and frayed around the edges from years of constant use and the green print that displays the Eagles logo across the front is cracked beyond belief, making it nearly impossible to read the Kelly green font.

“Babe?” She calls again, “Are you even listening?” The slight panic in her voice is evident as you realize you haven’t actually answered her yet. You stare back at your reflection in the mirror from the padded stool on which you sit, hair curled and makeup half-applied after your shower, Melissa’s silk robe you grabbed from its hook on the back of the door currently resting on your shoulders and tied loosely around your waist.

You sigh as you realize you should probably go and help the redhead and rise from your seat, anticipating the level of stress you’ll no doubt find her in.

When you cross the threshold from cold tiled flooring to the soft carpet of the bedroom, you immediately find Melissa torso deep in the chest of drawers that holds most of her clothing. She hasn’t even noticed you yet, the entire top half of her body nearly submerged in the sea of shirts as she rummages through them frantically. You can hear her mumbling something about “that goddamn sweater” as she digs through the drawer, your presence unnoticed.

You don’t want to get too close to the scene, knowing that you could get hit by one of the sweater-turned-projectiles that your dear wife is currently throwing halfway across the room, not bothering to look back and see where they land. Instead, you choose to lean back against the doorway from which you just entered and admire the view of Melissa bending over in the tightest pair of leather pants she owns. Game day has its advantages, and every single one of them are those pants. You decide to finally put her out of her misery and break the silence.

“You know it’s not going to be in there, right?” The sound of your voice immediately catches her attention, and she jumps, caught off guard by the intrusion and nearly hitting her head on the drawer above her head that sits ajar above the current focus of her attention. “The last game day was literally a week ago, so it’s probably folded up by the dryer somewhere downstairs.”

In reality you know it’s not anywhere near the dryer; it’s in your own chest of drawers that Melissa doesn’t dare to touch. She can’t know that you’ve taken it, especially not now when she’s this far into what is coming close to a nervous breakdown.

You didn’t even mean for it to take up residence among the rest of your clothing. It just happened last weekend when Melissa was out shopping and lunching with Barbara and you quite simply missed her, choosing to curl up in the sweater that she’s worn since long before you met. It just never found its way back to its rightful home and is now tucked away safely among your countless band t-shirts on the other side of the bedroom.

After what feels like an eternity of watching your wife rifling through her own clothing, she finally stands from her crouched position, grumbling about her knees and gripping the edge of the cabinet, and turns to meet you.

“How about I check the dryer for you, hm?” You ask as she turns slowly, her stiff muscles making it difficult to do so quickly. The stress in her features is evident, the crease between her eyebrows prominent from her furrowed brow. Her face softens as she meets your eye-line from where you rest against the door from, arms folded and head leaning against the wood.

“I’ve already checked, it’s definitely not there,” she replied, taking a few steps closer to where you stand. As she moves you can’t help but notice her eyes dipping down your frame, taking in your form. Her expression has gone from stressed, soft, to starving in seconds. “You know, I never even noticed that this is what you looked like right now.”

She’s crossed the room already and stands in front of you, arms reaching out to wrap around your waist and bring you away from the door frame, toward her. Your own arms unfold and lace themselves around her neck, her red curls brushing against your wrists as you move. You scratch at the nape of her neck lightly, knowing that it calms her even in her most tumultuous of moments.

“I haven’t even put my eyelashes on yet,” you huff. “I’m literally nowhere near ready.”

Her eyes dip down again, your own following her gaze to see exactly what she finds so interesting. She wraps her arms tighter around you, bringing your body impossibly closer to her own. Her hands dip lower, brushing against the small of your back, bunching your robe and holding you in place.

“You know, that isn’t a bad thing at all.” You can hear the smirk in her voice and your suspicions are confirmed when you look up and see that all too familiar expression laced across her features. Her dimples are deepened by the quirk of her lip, her eyebrow raised almost as if in a challenge. Your eyes dip down to her lips just as her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip, coated with sticky pink shimmering gloss. When you look back up again you know you’ve been caught.

You feel the heat rise up your neck, covering your chest in a pink blush. Even after all this time, Melissa’s flirting still makes you feel like a teenager. You can feel her subtly maneuver your body so that your back rests against the painted wall and not the sharp doorframe, narrowly missing the large wooden picture frame that protects an image of the Philly skyline.

You know she’s proud of herself and the flustered state she’s got you in. Her lips haven’t even touched your own yet and you’re already putty in her hands, the task at hand completely forgotten. You feel her press into you, pushing you further into the wall, her leg coming to rest between your own.

Her hands still hold your waist, keeping you in place and precisely where she wants you. The contact burns through your robe, the same way her eyes burn holes into your skin. When her eyes meet yours, you can see how dark they’ve become, the emerald green almost unrecognizable from the blown nature of her pupils. Her one hand leaves the comfort of your waist and instead trails up your body to rest at your jaw, her thumb coming to rest on your bottom lip.

“You know, we’ve still got some time,” she says lowly, her eyebrow arched again. She knows you can never say no to her, especially when she looks as delicious as she does right now. The combination of her tight pants and buttoned plaid shirt makes your head spin, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and buttons undone slightly so you can see the smooth expanse of milky skin beneath. Her gaze runs down your body again and you feel yourself shiver under her scrutiny, goosebumps instantly appearing where her eyes follow. She leans closer, pressing her lips to your rosy cheek. “What do you say, pretty girl?”

“My eyes are up here,” you whisper, the words catching in your throat as she presses her lips to your neck, using the hand on your jaw to keep you still and precisely where she wants you. You can feel the tackiness of her lips as they press into your skin, moving their way up toward your ear. Melissa’s breathing has gotten heavier, and you know there must be a trail of pink across your skin from the redhead’s attack.

“I know,” she breathes into your ear, her deepened voice making your knees weaken. “Can’t I admire my beautiful wife?” She asks. You can hear the smirk in her voice and feel it where her lips press into your jaw, immediately giving her intentions away, as if the thigh pressing into the heat between your legs and the fist she has burrowed into the back of your robe doesn’t already. That same hand snakes its way around your waist, your wife pulling you impossibly closer as she continues to melt your hard exterior and quickly make use of what little time you have left.

She uses the positioning to her advantage by sliding her hand around your thigh and lifting, bringing her even closer to your core. The sudden movement causes you to gasp, and her smirk only intensifies against your neck, turning into a full-blown shit-eating grin. You wrap your leg around her waist from where you stand, not letting her move away any time soon.

She pulls her head back to look into your eyes, the green entirely replaced by her black pupils. Her lipgloss has smudged past the edge of her lips, almost matching the rosy hue of her cheeks, and her hair is mussed from where your hands have been buried within her red locks. This is one of your favourite versions of Melissa. She’s clearly hungry for whatever you can give.

“How long do ya think we’ve got before Janine panics over us not being at the bar?” she asks, eyes trained on the pink glittery trail she’s left across your jaw. She’ll have to help you reapply your make-up later.

“Probably an hour?” You respond, following her eyeliner as she admires her work, “But it’s never going to take that long, let’s be real.”

Your words cause her eyes to snap up to meet yours, her mouth breaking into an instant grin, the lines around her eyes growing deeper at her joy.

“I say we test your theory,” she says seconds before she spins you, leading you backward toward your bed.

That was three weeks ago and she had all but forgotten about her sweater, her thoughts preoccupied with the other more important issues at hand. That was until she had walked back into your home one evening after her usual Saturday afternoon lunch with her Nonna. You would usually attend these lunches, finding the older Sicilian woman’s takes on the world incredibly entertaining but a week of testing means that you were far too behind on grading.

When Melissa closes the heavy wooden door to your home, her belly and heart full, she can’t help but notice the eerie quietness. The usual music is playing from the radio on the kitchen counter, but instead of blasting some cheesy pop song that Melissa loves to pretend to hate she’s greeted by the dulcet tones of Carly Simon’s subdued crooning.

She makes her way across the wooden floor, stepping carefully so her high-heeled boots can’t make the usual cracking noise with each step. When she rounds the corner into the living room, she is greeted by the dim light of a candle that has nearly reached the end of its wick, the sickly sweet scent of vanilla filling the room. She can see where you sit on the couch, the top of your head where a hastily thrown up bun sits giving away your location. You clearly haven’t noticed her presence yet, not moving at the noise of her walking closer.

When she rounds the side of the sofa, Melissa can see that you’re not in fact hard at work but have evidently fallen asleep mid-grading. Your legs are a tangled mess where they rest along the length of the sofa, the plastic that protected the material had been removed long ago when you moved in with the red head, your relationship still fairly new but clearly thriving.

Your head rests against the cushion of the sofa behind you, pen still in hand and paper discarded where it lays in your lap. Melissa can’t help but laugh lightly, thinking about just how many times she’s managed to find you in this exact position over the years. Your fluffy socks and bright red plaid pyjama pants are the image of comfort, she thinks, as she takes in the sight of you- wait a second, is that her Eagles sweater? The sight makes her jaw fall open in disbelief and everything clicks into place.

The subject changes whenever it was brought up in conversation suddenly make so much sense to her now. She can’t help but chuckle and shake her head slightly, impressed that you had managed to misdirect her for so long but so enamoured that you could do all that just for a sweater. She would have let you wear it if you had asked, but she thinks it’s probably better to make you feel the achievement of swindling her out of her favourite item of clothing.

Her heart feels impossibly full as she looks down at you where you rest, glass askew on your face and soft snores filling the room. Even if the losing streak the Eagles endured at the end of the season are a result of Melissa not wearing her sweater on game days, she would take the losses a million times over if it meant she could come home to this sight every evening.

#writing #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #fluff #reader fanfic #reader fic #self insert #wlw #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti fic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti self insert #melissa schemmenti x y/n #lisa ann walter fic #lisa ann walter x reader

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lot-of-nothing · 2 months

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Entwined (Ch. 1)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Since your youth, the relationship between Melissa and you has been complicated. In all of your years knowing her, she just can't admit that she isn't as straight as she thinks.

Warnings: Toxic Melissa, smut, and very veiled internalized homophobia

Authors Note: If ya like it, let me know and I'll write more.

On and off.

That’s how you would describe your relationship with Melissa to your closest friends. They would inevitably roll their eyes and make a face, annoyed with how Melissa had you wrapped around her finger.

It started in high school. She would start dating a new guy, he would leave her unsatisfied in more ways than one, and then she would find those missing pieces of her relationship in you.

You were best friends after all…. and best friends would do anything for each other, right?

The first night you spent together was always vivid in your memories. Her green eyes flashing with mischief before she took your hand and pulled it to her thigh. Mel told you how badly she was aching, how it was almost painful. That she needed her best friend to help resolve what her boyfriend couldn’t.

She knew about your sexual orientation. She knew how hard it was for you to date. When you hesitated, Mel said it was like practicing for when you had a girlfriend. Only if she knew how beautiful you found her to be… that she was only making things harder for you.

Young and naive, you gladly accepted her offer - desire flooding your senses as soon as she drew your hands to her body. She guided you through every motion and step, telling you exactly what she liked. Like a sponge, you soaked up every word and memorized every fraction of her body. Never wanting to forget a thing.

Little did you know the knowledge would come in handy again… and again… and again.

—

“I should probably get going.” Mel breathed as she pushed herself into an upright position. You had been bathing in the afterglow of your sexual dalliance when you must have looked at her too yearningly. She didn’t want you getting too attached.

“I wouldn’t mind if you stayed. It’s no big deal.” You tried to shrug off her wanting to leave so soon. It was best if you played it cool rather than let her know how much you really wanted her after all these years.

It was clear she didn’t give much thought to your statement. Slipping out from under your sheets, Melissa snatched up her underwear and bra from the floor. She was always in such a rush after you were finished, “I don’t want the neighbors gettin’ the wrong idea.”

That's what she had always told you - ‘I’m not gay.’

For years, you always had a biting remark in return.

‘Yeah. It’s not like you just spent a half hour between my legs or anything.’

“What? Worried they might think you’re gay?” Your words were twinged with venom. Now, rather than wait for her to make the excuse, you threw it back in her face. It always irked you that she could say such a thing to you given all you had experienced with one another.

“A woman can enjoy the company of women and not be gay.”

You scoffed, unable to contain yourself, “You’re delusional.”

Melissa’s lip curled and her brow furrowed. She always hated when you would get pissy with her, so she decided to snap back at you as she clipped her bra in the back, “I don’t need your shit, okay? I came here for a good time after my shitty date.”

You faked a smile and let the sarcasm drip from your tongue. “Glad to help.”

—

You knew the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this is how it always went.

She would call. She would come over. You would fuck. She would want to leave right after. You would get pissed. Then you wouldn’t speak until she wanted back in your bed.

—

You gathered saliva in your mouth and then pushed your tongue between her folds, drenching Melissa’s sweet cunt in your spit.

After the last sexual dalliance, you told yourself you wouldn’t end up on your knees for her again. But 45 minutes ago you received a partial nude from the redhead, and she had you reeled back in once more. It was a scandalous picture of her standing in front of her bedroom mirror with her hand between her legs. The caption she sent with the photo was ‘Missing you.’

While it was infuriating she could send a picture at random like that, you were in your car minutes later ready to drive over to her house.

Your hands gripped behind her knees, keeping a gentle pressure to make sure she was spread wide for you. Her hands were buried in your hair to prevent you from lifting your face away from her swollen heat. But in all honesty, you weren’t planning on going anywhere until she came all over your tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” Mel whined, pushing her hips up to grind against your face. Her enjoyment made you smile, and sadly, a small ounce of hope lingered in the back of your mind that maybe you could fuck her good enough that she would want to be with you.

“Yesyesyesyes… God, you are incredible.” Melissa hissed out, chasing her orgasm through rough bucks of her hips.

You pulled back, fighting against the grip for her hands. You provided her with a singular lick to her cunt and then paused, teasing her, “You want to come?”

“Yes~”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

“Good girl…” You hummed, pulling away entirely to retrieve the strap.

—

She had barely recovered from taking a pseudo-rage filled fucking when she crawled from bed. Her legs wobbled underneath herself as she wrapped herself in a robe, trying to make it clear a third round wouldn’t be an option. “I guess you better be goin’.”

“Sounds good.” You took the hint with grace, choosing to let her statement roll off your back rather than stewing on it. You slipped from the bed, unclasped Melissa’s strap (that she kept around just for you), and tossed the sex toy on the bed. You then proceeded to get ready in silence, not offering anything to Melissa that might display your displeasure.

The redhead was slowly unnerved by your silence as you zipped up your trousers and pulled your shirt over your head. She stared at her nail beds, trying to start casual conversation, “Gary proposed.”

You glanced up at her quickly, brow furrowed in angry questioning. While you were not proud of how easily Mel could reel you in, you wouldn’t have come if she was still in a relationship let alone engaged.

Melissa noticed your incredulous look and finished explaining, “I said no.”

You breathed out a scoff as you tucked your phone in your back pocket and scooped up your sweater off the floor. “That sounds about right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Melissa was clearly unhappy with your tone, but you refused to glance her way - slightly enraging her further.

Swiping your wallet and car keys from the bedside table you finally glanced over to where Mel sat on the edge of the bed. It was difficult to tell if she was more angry or embarrassed by your criticism, “I’ve learned the hard way, Mel. You’re hardly one to be tied down by something as trivial as love.”

Melissa was left speechless by your blatant honesty, and she could only stare as you gave her a curt nod, “I’ll see you around.”

—

She wasn’t gone for a half hour when you received a text from her - ‘Again tomorrow night? ;)’

It immediately forced you to roll your eyes. How you loved and hated that she was like this. One moment she would be so oppositional to any form of attachment, and then the moment someone ‘played hard to get’ with her, she would be fiending for their attention.

What was worse is that you were no better than her. You replied almost automatically - ‘I am off at 4. Come over whenever.’

Link to Chapter 2

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #toxic relationship #if you like the fic then let me know. it was fun to write :)

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fistfuloflightning · 5 months

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I binge read @ruensroad’s glorious fic A Voice You Hear With Your Heart (belated congrats on surviving NaNoWriMo hon!) and because I am currently incapable of forming coherent thoughts for a review, have a rough approximation of the fic cover I had stuck in my head :D

#AHSKDJSHALSKJDHDHS #I am absolutely blown away #it’s another tiger of hu y’all!!!#murder mystery and detectives and married jiuyuan falling even deeper in love ahskfjsh #so good #ghost marriages are so fun to read/write #I literally have like a whole page of stuff I wanna say about this fic in my head #buts it’s mush when I try typing it out #so just take some visual love 🥰#also had across the sea by lisa van hal on repeat #fantastic track for their journey together #svsss #jiuyuan #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #shen jiu #svsss art #my art #fanfic fanart

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like-the-rest-of-la · 1 year

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Happy Little Accidents

The last thing Eddie Diaz expects to come out of his trip to Buckley’s Plant Nursery & Landscaping with his son, is to develop an honest to god schoolgirl crush on the guy who owns the place (and not notice that that is what’s happening for an embarrassingly long time).

The plan is simple. Get in, have Christopher pick out a couple of succulents or whatever he needs for his school project, and get out without infesting any of the gorgeous plants in the shop with his bad plant karma.

But then, the first thing he’s greeted with is a hunk of a man, carrying two heavy packs of soil on his broad shoulders. Eddie swears he can see a drop of sweat running down the man’s face in slow motion. His t-shirt looks like it’s one strategic muscle flex away from bursting at the seams and Eddie—Eddie feels nervous all of the sudden. And he’s gaping like a fish.

“Hey,” Hunk-man says as he hoists the soil on the counter next to him with a grunt, “What can I help you with?”

At least Eddie has enough self-awareness to close his mouth.

Or: the one where Buck owns a plant nursery and Eddie stumbles through his crush (and has no game during all of it)—oh and also, there are a lot of Bob Ross references.

Read on Ao3

(With a banner by the wonderful @theladyyavilee thank you so so so much <3)

#9-1-1 #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fic #911 fox #I cannot believe this fic is finally done #...it's the first longer fic I've written and finished in probably 5 years and it's the first longer fic I've written for this fandom #I am always a LOT more nervous about posting writing than posting my art because... it is a lot harder for me lol #but - just as Buck is telling Eddie in this one - practice makes definitely better so I will continue to expose myself xD #I really hope you do like it... I was very nervous about posting it and Sarah bravely held my hand during this :D #and now I will be going to bed because it is 2AM and I should definitely be sleeping kdjfalkdjklf #okay...#nighty night!#lisa writes #au shenanigans #the buck owns a plant nursery fic 🪴

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hugh-lauries-bald-spot · 1 year

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i hc that house is bi but just never brings it up cause he thinks its that obvious, when he denies attraction to men he thinks hes doing it ironically like “wink wink imagine??”

but of course everyone just believes him cause its house hes always sarcastic and weird about men so in convo with a patient he drops how he’s bi and the whole team + wilson all go “????”

only cuddy is like “uh yeah guys, he jokes about it constantly-”

#house md #bisexual #this isnt coherent but it WILL be when i WRITE A FIC!!!#in that same light wilson is gay to me #dont have that many failed relationships unless youre trying to prove something #hilson #greg house #dr greg house #hate crimes md #queer #lisa cuddy #james wilson #eric foreman #robert chase #allison cameron

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petitincendie · 3 months

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also i really appreciate the fandom has kind of absorbed the idea that pre-reanimation, the creature can hear and maybe feel but not see, like he’s in some sort of limbo

#lisa frankenstein #personally i may write him as a ghost #but like… he uses the statue as a sort of uhh. binoculars? glasses?#kind of like he can’t see unless he uses his grave’s bust #it makes no sense but neither does the rest of the movie #also maybe he can feel via the bust…#like he is so sooo down bad he sees lisa feels her etc but til he comes back to life?#she’s none the wiser #and despite that she talks to him and tends to his grave #it’s like she intuitively kinda Knows but doesn’t #i love fic ideas. would love to write someday.

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aghostlybao · 2 months

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kinda just want a fic of lisa protecting taffy from every bad thing post the movie because that’s her ✨ sister ✨

taffy whose ready to go off with some sketchy dude gets stood up because of lisa like ʕʘ‿ʘʔ “scram.” but then ‘anonymously’ buys taffy a milkshake so she doesn’t feel too dejected about getting stood up.

but also taffy feeling guilty over everything, thinking she didn’t do enough to prevent those things from happening. her being kind to everyone else but herself. ends up doing what lisa used to do and sits by lisa’s grave to talk to her. saying how she finally gets why lisa used to do the same back then. pls imagine taffy telling her gravestone “sometimes i feel like you’re watching over me” scene cuts to lisa literally watching her from the shadows with an axe.

but also the idea of taffy having a goth bff is so important to me. cause sunshine and sunshine protector. they have a sun and moon necklace that she now wears with the rosary lisa gave her. taffy watches horror movies with them even though she gets easily scared because they love horror movies. in return they watch every sappy romcom with her. taffy healing. lisa ready to chop anyone who dares to hurt her precious sister. idk what im talking about…i absolutely loved the movie and their sister bond.

#fic ideas #fic i will never write #lisa frankenstein #lisa frankenstein spoilers #taffy swallows #lisa swallows

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softlofty · 1 year

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: EastEnders (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell Characters: Ben Mitchell, Callum "Halfway" Highway, Dotty Cotton, Jay Brown, Lola Pearce, Lexi Pearce, Kathy Beale Additional Tags: Light Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Cars, Humor, Attempt at Humor, First Kiss, Kissing, Neck Kissing, Christmas Summary:

“So, what happens now?” Callum says after a while, after it’s been silent for so long it’s starting to get worrisome.

Ben takes a deep breath in and out, tucking away the list in a desk drawer. “What happens now is I’m going to have to spend all afternoon trying to figure out what’s wrong with this thing simply by throwing everything at the wall and seeing what sticks. Or what doesn’t stick, I guess.” Callum’s mouth curls up somewhat in amusement.

***

Ben has a good thing going, owner of and working full time at the Arches, Jay owning both the undertaker's and the car lot, the two of them helping each other out where they can. Then, the hearse breaks down, and Jay needs Ben to fix it. He also needs to try and get along with Jay's new hire, fresh to the Square, Callum Highway.

or, the ben! mechanic au we all deserve

#ben x callum #ballum #eastenders #ben mitchell #callum highway #lisa writes fic #well well well look who's back!#i know me being nervous about my writing is nothing new but this feels different lmao #really hope people like this and still want to read fics like these

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spooky-holtz · 1 month

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Sicilian Scheming

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

Prompt: "I seen you were looking for ideas for fics and was wondering if you’d write one where Mellisa’s Nona comes to visit her at Abbot during summer planning where she meets teacher Reader and essentially forces them to go on a date together even though they don’t get along well but they end up really hitting it off then a time skip to their wedding where Nona’s bragging about getting them together?"

I've diverted from the prompt a little but the core of it still stands. Strap in.

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Make no mistake, you absolutely love teaching the third grade but by the time summer comes around, you’re glad to see them go. Summer vacation gives you a chance to relax and enjoy your time away from the stuffy brick building that is Abbott Elementary, spending weeks at a time curled up on the window ledge of your apartment basking in the sun with a good novel and often a crisp glass of wine.

You rarely get chance to see your co-workers save for the coffee dates you have with Janine, often meeting the smaller woman around the corner from her home to sit and chat in the large glass windows as the rest of the world passes by. You spend hours at a time chatting about anything and everything your rather uneventful lives have thrown at you, fingers curled around a sweating glass of flavored iced tea. These breaks are always among the highlights of your year, giving you a chance to wind down and refresh ready for the next group of kids that you will take under your wing.

By the time the summer break winds down though, you’re eager to get back to school and see your dysfunctional work family. There’s nothing you love more than the first day after weeks apart, hearing all about Barbra’s annual cruise with Gerald, or Jacob’s latest mission to get himself “down with the kids” - it usually involves some god awful Tik Tok trend that he should NOT be doing, but you don’t have the heart to stop his rather spirited approach to engaging with his students.

You love these conversations but there is somebody else that you find yourself searching for the second you step foot through the green doors of Abbott; Mellisa Schemmenti. The older woman has become an infatuation for you, her rigid exterior always melting when you interact. She knows exactly how you take your coffee, always leaves a seat open for you during meetings, and takes every opportunity to compliment your appearance - whether it's a new pair of earrings, or a slightly different shade of hair dye, Melissa will always notice.

She makes you feel special in the smallest ways, always leaving you with the hope that she might actually like you back. It feels juvenile and you can’t help but imagine yourself as one of the kids you teach every day, sending heart eyes across the room at each other at any given chance, just waiting for her cheeks to flush and that small, suppressed smile to appear on her glossed lips.

Your crush is no secret, but you would never tell anyone - well, except Janine who had managed to guess exactly why you get so nervous around the older woman after a few glasses of wine at the last faculty holiday party. You didn’t have to say anything; your longing looks toward the redhead on the other side of the teachers’ lounge as you nursed a plastic cup full of cheap alcohol was enough to prompt your friend to ask. You could never lie to Janine’s puppy dog eyes, especially not with a buzz courtesy of the liquor store across the street.

You can’t help but let your thoughts drift toward thick Philly accents as you sit in the gym on the first day of school, squashed between Jacob and Janine and caught directly in the middle of their conversation about whatever new Netflix documentary series dropped last week. You’re really trying to listen, but your thoughts are consumed by bright red curls and glittery lip gloss, not true crime documentaries.

You find yourself scanning the room as the pair babble on and you notice that the seating arrangement is half empty as you wait for the rest of the faculty to arrive and for Ava to take the stage for yet another development week speech that will go down in infamy at Abbott. She’s already poked her head from behind the curtain on the stage twice, clearly impatient to make her grand entrance to a group of less than willing participants.

You begin to hear the telltale sound of heeled boots clicking against the linoleum floor and you feel yourself freezing into place just as Melissa waltzes into the hall, Barbara in tow. You don’t know if you’re impressed or terrified at her ability to constantly wear those shoes and the thought makes you realize that you’ve never actually seen Melissa at her normal height.

Just as you suck in a deep breath, her eyes scan the room and instantly land where you sit, sandwiched between two of your rather enthusiastic co-workers. As her green eyes meet yours you see them shrink at the smile she sends your way, her pearly white teeth cutting through the shiny pink lip gloss she’s always wearing. You send a similar smile back, overjoyed at the fact she merely noticed you. God help your heart rate when she decides to talk to you for the first time in two months.

Your attention is pulled away by Barbara, who waves enthusiastically from behind Melissa, making her way toward the empty seats directly in front of you. Your eyes dart back to Melissa as she follows the billowing of the older woman’s cardigan, heels still impossibly loud against the floor.

The dark button down she’s sporting is tight against her torso, the sleeves rolled up to reveal her deceptively toned forearms. You have to remind yourself to look away for a split second, the thought of getting caught ogling her by one of your co-workers forcing you to tear your eyes away. You look toward Janine who has trailed off her conversation with Jacob, the pair watching you and Melissa like a tennis match. You feel your shoulders slump at Jacob’s knowing look, the excitement practically making him vibrate.

“You’re kidding, you know too?” You sigh.

“Uh yeah, you don’t exactly hide the heart eyes,” he scoffs. He must see the deer-in-headlights expression on your face because he continues, “I wouldn’t worry, she was definitely just throwing them right back at you.”

You have no time to reply as the subject of the conversation reaches the row of seats in front of you, sitting in the hard plastic chair and turning her torso to see you, hand resting on the back of her seat. Her smile is wide again as she looks to you. The panic brews in your throat and your palms instantly become sweaty at the prospect of Melissa feeling the intensity of your feelings.

“Hey hun, it’s been a while,” she says, her eyes still crinkled from the smile she wears. Her focus is entirely on you, ignoring the duo that sits on either of your sides.

“Yeah, it has,” you manage to stammer out, “How’ve you been? You look good.”

You inwardly cringe at your words but you’re not lying. She’s obviously had her hair dyed ready for the new school year and it’s even brighter than usual, making her even easier for you to pick out of a crowd. She looks so full of life and at ease, the break clearly having done her well. Her smile grows impossibly wider at your compliment, putting you instantly at ease.

“It was great,” she replies. “Spent a lotta time at the beach with my family, so I’m not as pasty as you may have remembered.”

She throws a wink your way with the last statement, causing a pink blush to cover your cheeks within seconds. What you wouldn’t give to actually see Melissa at the beach, totally relaxed on a sun lounger with a drink in hand. The image turns your cheeks an even deeper shade of red and Mel clearly catches on, her smirk letting you know that she knows exactly where your thoughts have gone.

Before you even have chance to reply, Ava makes her grand entrance from behind the curtain to a chorus of groans that echos throughout the room.

You can feel Janine’s elbow nudging into your side, your friend having had a front row seat to your entire interaction with the redhead. The action earns her a swift kick to the ankle under her seat, accompanied by a hissed “don’t you dare”.

The meeting is over almost as quickly as it begins, Ava rushing back to her office to catch the latest episode of Real Housewives - she didn’t explicitly say it but you all know that’s the only reason she would be running back down the hall. You won’t complain though because it means you can get started with your work to prepare your classroom for the year ahead. You stand from your seat alongside Jacob and Janine and have all intentions of getting back to work when Melissa turns around again. Her emerald eyes stop you in your tracks, mid-stretch, your arms flexed above your head.

“I never got the chance to tell you earlier, but I really like your dress,” she says, completely catching you off guard. Your hands fall, hanging limply by your side and brushing against the floral fabric of your clothing. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wear it specifically to catch her eye this morning. The soft smile she wears on her face makes your heart melt, the look on her face only reserved for you. “It's real pretty.”

You both stand there for a few seconds, blushing like lovesick teenagers and staring into each other's eyes when a throat clearing brings you back to reality. Janine claps her hands together, flustered by the interaction.

“Okay, I’m gonna get back to my classroom and, uh, get started on cleaning. Have a good day guys!” She calls as she walks away with Jacob in tow, enthusiastic as ever as he throws a thumbs up your way. You know that within five minutes of leaving the school gym she’ll be in your classroom waiting for the rundown on what the hell just happened between you and Melissa, as if she didn’t see it all happen from inches away. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if Jacob shows up with a bag of popcorn to join in with the gossip session.

“Oh shit, yeah, I need to clean before Nonna shows up,” Melissa mumbles, “I don’t wanna even think about the earful I’ll get if my classroom is a mess.” She doesn’t even stop to think before she turns on her heel and practically runs out of the gym and down the hall toward her classroom. You don’t have time to process her words before her best friend speaks.

“Well, I guess that just leaves us,” Barbara says from her place next to where the redhead stood. She wears a gentle smile on her face that will always help you feel at ease. She reaches her arm out to you, linking your arm within hers as she turns to walk. “Come on honey, I’ll walk you to your room and tell you all about the cruise I had with my Gerald.”

After a rather lengthy conversation about ‘Sea Barbara’ and her less-than-christian antics, you’re back at your door for the first time in months and can’t help but feel like you’re home. Nobody particularly likes their job but that couldn’t be further from the truth for you. Already, you’ve planned out the next year and can’t wait to welcome your little Eagles back into the classroom.

It’s a full hour later by the time you actually hear another person’s voice - Janine chose to keep her distance but will no doubt grill you about Melissa at some point today. It’s just a matter of when.

You hear the signature clicking of her heels before you can see her, her footsteps considerably slower than usual. You can hear her talking as she walks, though you can’t make you exactly what she’s saying. The footsteps grow louder and slower before you hear a knock against your doorframe, the door propped open by a thick stack of textbooks that you’ve wedged in front of it in a desperate attempt to get some airflow in the stuffy room.

The sound makes you whip your head from where you stand on your stepladder, stapler and crepe paper in hand as you put together a display for the kids. You know exactly who will be standing there, already smiling as you turn and meet her eyes.

“Hey Hun,” she says, “I’ve got someone here who wanted to really meet you.”

For the first time you notice the presence beside her. You don’t need to take any guesses that this is Melissa’s infamous Nonna, the older woman clearly having stamped her grandchildren with her genes - she looks exactly how you imagine Melissa would in her old age, her hair silver and leaning gently on a cane.

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti!” she exclaims, making you jump and stand up straighter, terrified at the prospect of already being on her bad side. You climb down from the ladder as she stares at you, smoothing your hands down the front of your dress in an effort to get rid of any creases that may have formed during the morning. “You said she was pretty, but not this pretty!”

You feel your shoulders relax as you laugh at the older woman, taken aback, Melissa by the side of her groaning loudly with a “Nonna, really?” You move toward the pair holding your hand out to shake the wrinkled one of the grey-haired lady before you. Her fingers are adorned by the same kind of jewelry that Melissa wears, her Sicilian heritage extremely clear from the large signet rings that she wears across her hands.

“And there’s no mistaking that you must be Nonna,” you grin, introducing yourself. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re like a living legend around here.” She closes her hand around yours, the other still gripping her cane.

“Pretty and complimentary?” She remarks, turning to look at her granddaughter whose face has managed to turn the same colour as her hair. “Well, you kept a lot quiet about this one.”

You can’t help but look at Melissa at this statement, catching her eye and smiling even wider, Nonna’s remarks already making your grin impossibly wide. Her brow relaxes itself slightly, the hard lines around her eyes softening when she sees the pure joy on your face at finally getting to meet the woman you’ve heard so much about over the last few years.

“I’m not sure if I want to hear exactly what you know about me,” you joke to her, catching Melissa’s eye yet again. The poor woman looks unbelievably flustered but it's a welcome change in your dynamic. She usually gets to revel in the fact that you turn into a puddle in her presence, but now you can only hope to add to the quickly darkening hue of her cheeks.

“Trust me, you do. This one doesn’t shut up about you,” she says, smiling slightly and cocking her head toward Melissa who is actively wishing that a sinkhole would open up beneath her feet. She lets go of your hand and moves further into the classroom, leaning ever so slightly on her stick but still moving with all the confidence of your favourite Schemmenti woman - at least you know where Melissa gets it from now.

Your eyes dart to Melissa, the older woman already looking back at you with a silent apology in her eyes her teeth worrying her bottom lip. You reach out and rub the top of her arm over her shirt in a small act of comfort, letting her know that this entire situation is doing nothing but working in her favour.

“Ya know, it’s nice seeing something other than my Melissa’s classroom or the reception desk at this school for once,” Nonna says, almost speaking to herself. She looks around the room almost in awe, taking in the displays in various degrees of completion around the room.

You follow her further in, Melissa hot on your tail behind you. She’s so close that you feel her almost walk straight into your back as you stop closer to the older woman, her once intimidating heels stuttering slightly on the wooden floor.

“So, tell me,” Nonna begins, turning in place to face you, “What brought a girl like you to Philly? I know you’re not a local.” Her eyes twinkle as she asks, and you have a sneaking suspicion that she already knows the answer to her question from the tales her granddaughter has seemingly told her about you.

“I just wanted a change,” you answer honestly. “I only thought I’d be here a couple years, but it’s been five and I can’t see myself leaving any time soon.”

At your statement you hear Melissa sigh by your side. As your head turns to meet her gaze you see just how much it softened at your words. She knows just how much you love your job and the dedication you’re willing to put into making sure these kids make it. Year after year she’s been the one to help you draft lesson plans and mark countless piles of work over a mug of coffee in the teachers’ lounge, helping you when you feel slightly out of your depth in more ways than she could imagine.

It’s only when she’s this close to your face that you can see the glittering of her lip gloss as she smiles slightly, her lips pulled together in a look that conveys so much softness.

“Do you like Italian food?” Nonna asks, breaking the tense silence that has fallen between you. You feel the redhead beside you jump, both of you completely forgetting that her grandmother is just meters away from your little moment. You can’t answer quick enough, crying out for her approval and hoping that you can focus back from the incredible green eyes that are currently burning into the side of your head.

“Oh yeah, I absolutely love an Italian,” you stutter out, “Can’t get enough.”

You inwardly cringe at your words as you hear Melissa snicker by your side, Nonna’s eyes twinkling with amusement again. You hear a quiet “Bedda Matri” from Melissa through the giggles that shake her body.

“I bet ya do,” Nonna says, her grin revealing her impossibly pearly white teeth. You can feel yourself getting warmer and you’re not sure if it’s from the stuffiness of your classroom and its broken windows or from the pure embarrassment radiating through your system. “You know, I taught Melissa everything she knows about Italian food. Maybe if you’re nice she’ll cook for you sometime.”

Nonna’s eyebrows are raised as you turn to meet Melissa’s eyes, the older woman shrugging in your direction. It's nice to know you aren’t the only person completely lost in this conversation.

“Oh, I know!” Nonna exclaims, making the pair of you jump yet again, “Melissa, how about you cook this nice girl the family baked ziti tonight? Say, 7 o’clock?”

“Uh sure, if you don’t have anything on?” Melissa says, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion once again.

“No no, I’m totally free,” you stammer, your cheeks matching the deep red of your co-worker's hair. “I’ve got your address too.”

“Wonderful!” Nonna almost shouts, her shrill voice echoing off the semi-bare walls of your classroom. “You’re going to love it, trust me.” She says, throwing a wink your way.

You don’t particularly want to admit that the smaller woman is, but you do love it. So much so that two years later you’re twirling around a dance floor in a lacy white dress, Melissa in a matching getup and shiny new diamond rings on your left hands. As Billy Joel croons the chorus of ‘Just the Way You Are’ from the speakers set up around the room, you hear a familiar voice chirp up from a table just out of reach of the dance floor.

“You know, they would never have gotten together if I hadn’t practically knocked their heads together,” Nonna says, her voice carrying over the song as she explains her matchmaking services to Melissa’s Uncle Tony. You feel Melissa grin where her cheek rests against yours, your expression matching hers as you hear the older woman carry on. “I’m telling you now Anthony, this wedding wouldn’t even be happening if it wasn’t for me.”

You feel Melissa begin to giggle where she stands, her hands resting against the lace at the small of your back, thumbs rubbing gently against the surface as you sway together. You hear Nonna carry on, adamant that the life you’ve built wouldn’t be possible if not for her, and as much as you don’t want to give her satisfaction, you both know she’s right.

#wlw #self insert #reader fanfic #reader fic #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #writing #fluff #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fic #melissa schemmenti fanfic #lisa ann walter x reader #lisa ann walter fic #melissa schemmenti x y/n

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valliantknight · 2 months

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spoilers and lisa frankenstein thoughts under the cut (about the storm and his death and resurrection)

so the starting animation is meant to give us a brief and vague idea of The Creatures story before he died..

but the fact that it depicts a storm with green skies and (implies) a tornado with the winds.. the day he died

and the same thing happens the night hes resurrected.

this idea that it may have been what killed him is also what brought him back.

and just the idea of fate. that he was frozen in death for over a hundred years so he could reawaken for lisa. something about soulmates separated through time, and death that usually parts people is what brings them together instead.

#i have a lot of thoughts about this movie #some im writing down for fics #but other theories and ideas im just gonna write like this #lisa frankenstein

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f1nalboys · 15 days

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Hey... Ya know what would be cool or whatever?

*Gently kicks rock with my hands in my pockets trying not to show how much I crave this*

If you'd make The Creature!Randy as a short story au yearning for Reader/Lisa... I don't know I think it be neat...Just saying.

spooky ur a GENIUS!!!!! have not stopped thinking abt this since i watched the movie and <3333333 randy is the perfect undead husband i fear to say!!! this is a little short and really just focuses on the beginning of everything, but i hope its enjoyable nonetheless!!!!

From The Grave - Randy Meeks

The Creature!Randy Meeks x GN!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1025

WARNINGS: post death randy, the briefest description of corpse randy, mention of roadkill, nothing too graphic tho <3, reader is around randys age when he died but no specifc age is said, inspired by lisa frankenstein <3

His grave was tucked underneath a large willow tree, the branches hanging low and wide, hiding his lone headstone. You discovered it a few months ago on a warm spring afternoon as you carefully made your way through the abandoned graveyard in Woodsboro, stepping over gnarled roots and vines. The headstone was cracked, covered in moss and dirt, but you could just barely make out some of the writing on it as you got closer, your hand swinging by your side as the leaves of the tree shaded you from the sun.

“Randy Meeks. 1978-1997.”

He was young, like you. Alone, too, if the state of his grave was any indication. Despite passing the other graves, all in similar states of disrepair, something about this one stood out to you. Maybe it was the fact you knew nothing of him; other headstones told you that buried deep in the ground was a husband, a wife, a child, but here there was nothing. Or, maybe, it was the fact that he was of similar age to you and was hidden away like you so often felt.

Regardless, you spent the next hour carefully scraping the moss off of the stone with your finger and, when the grime became too hard to simply push off, with your pen. You didn’t have any water or soap and as you stand, wiping your hands off onto your jeans with a pleased smile at the progress, you resolve to come back tomorrow and finish cleaning it up. Sure, no one ever came through here, and the grass was as high as your knees in some parts of the cemetery, and you swore when you turned your back to his grave you could feel someone staring at you, but you were going to finish your job here.

And so you did. The next day, bright and early, you clean up Randy Meeks’s headstone until it sparkles in the sunlight that broke through the gaps of the leaves. But then you come back the next day, and the next, and the next. For weeks, whenever you have the chance to, you make your way through the rusted iron fence and through the thick grass to him.

Always to him.

You eventually wear down a path to his grave, the grass around the headstone itself squashed down from your constant pacing as you talk out loud. Talking helped clear your mind, and despite no response, you felt more seen and understood by him than you ever had before. You sometimes caught yourself pausing after a sentence as if waiting for a response and everytime you swore the wind would pick up and the leaves above you would rustle his answer.

Each time you left the cemetery, you’d write off whatever you felt in the moment and resign yourself back to your lonely existence.

And then the strange storm happened. Dark, green, swirling clouds loomed in the sky above you, but they couldn't deter you. You made your way to the cemetery, rested your head on his gravestone, fingers tracing the etching of his name, and cried. Your whispers came out quick and harsh, cut off with random gulps of air, as you told him how you just wished you and he could be together. How your life was awful, how all you wanted was to be seen and loved and be treated how you knew he would treat you.

You wanted to join him in death since he couldn't join you in life.

There was a crack of thunder, a flash of light, and when your eyes opened you were back home. You shake it off, sure you made your way home on auto-pilot. As you stumble through your routine to get ready for bed, you pause at the sound of a groan outside. Just as you turn your head to investigate, your front window shatters and a foul smell reminiscent of the decomposing fox on the side of the road you pass by everyday wafts in. Your hand covers your mouth and nose to stop from hurling just as he crawls through your window.

After a few laps around your house, you sit across from him in your bedroom, staring at him wearily. “Who are you?” Is the only thing you can think to ask, though it doesn’t result in much. The man keeps grunting, getting increasingly more frustrated at your lack of understanding. He’s caked in mud and god knows what else, his eyes a bright blue. He can’t talk and you can’t understand him, but you swear you know him from somewhere. You run through the list of men you know, name after name, but he shakes his head after each one, his fingers drumming on his bent knee.

Eventually you stand and give him a notebook and a pen, hoping he can write. You watch as he takes it, his eyes focused on the paper in front of him, his tongue poking out from his lips as he concentrates. Finally, he looks up and meets your eye, an intensity in them you hadn't seen before. You take the notebook and look down, gasping quietly as you read the name.

“Randy?” You ask, eyes widening slightly as you look back towards him. He nods. “My Randy? From the graveyard?” Another nod and the closest thing to a smile you’ve seen him make yet. None of it makes sense. You knew that the real Randy Meeks had been dead for years but here he was in front of you. “Could you hear me? When I spoke to you?”

He nods his head once again, reaching his large hand out for yours. You grimace slightly at the feeling of the mud and viscera on his skin but you don't pull away. Instead, you watch with a morbid curiosity as he brings your hand to his undead lips, pressing them against your hand. Your hand tingles, a lightning bolt crawling up your arm.

It was him. He was here for you. Somehow, someway, he clawed his way out of death to find you.

It was the most romantic thing you could think of.

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #scream 1996 #scream #scream 1997 #randy meeks #randy meeks x reader #randy meeks x y/n #the creature #lisa frankenstein inspired fic teehee

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wazzappp · 2 months

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I drew. a lot for this. Also heads up for non RE mutuals this is going to be. confusing for you. I'm going to do my best to annotate and provide context but you are in for a wild ride.

Anyway long ass lore post for how Lisa and Robbie go from fighting to working together in this AU.

In the RE8 cannon all of the Dimitrescu daughters are made at the same time but for the sake of ✨the situations✨ I am going to change that. Lisa lived the longest as a human before being assimilated into the mold with a Cadou (infecting extension of the Megamycite). Technically her 'sisters' are older than her, as they were assimilated a while ago. Lisa has been a member of house Dimitrescu for about 2 years now. This puts her in this. Weird middle child zone. She wants to make her 'family' proud but she's also aware that what makes them proud isn't really the most achievable thing in the world (expecially with Bela to contend with. Older sibling overachiever to the maximum). She's got a certain degree of distance from them and sometimes wonders if she wasn't better off before all of this. Her memories are fuzzy but still there for the most part. She cant remember faces or names but she remembers feelings and situations. She doesen't remember families being like this (she wants OUT).

Chasing prey brought in is fairly standard for her. It's some of the only entertainment she gets. So when she catches Robbie exploring around the castle she has no idea that he's special in any way. He's just some new guy she gets to mess with before eating and DAMN he's FUN. If she didn't know any better she could almost think that he has experience being chased around (he does. he very much so does. all of RE7's worth). What she ALSO doesn't know is that Mother Miranda (big bad. Different from Lady Dimitrescu, who she refers to as 'mother') is planning on using Gabe (who is replacing baby Rose in this) to try and resurrect her dead kid with a 'perfect vessel' and this requires. uh. disassembly (in the base RE8 gameplay the reason Ethan goes to each house is because uhhhhhhhh his infant daughter has been dismembered and stored in jars and he needs to collect them so he can put her back together.... yeah). Robbie intervenes before this can get going and is instead going house to house because if he wants to get out of this stupid fuckass villiage he needs to collect the key components to unlock the gate keeping him in here (i need him to have a reason. to kill everyone. its important to me ok).

When Lisa finds out this random, but fun guy, she's been chasing who she thought was JUST SOME NORMAL GUY killed one of her sisters she mentally goes 'Oh. OH. THERES A CHANCE FOR ME TO GET OUT OF HERE'. That in conjunction with discovering Mother Miranda is planning on FULLY DISMEMBERING A CHILD she uh. Makes some decisions.

What you have to understand about her plans of matricide is that neither Lady Dimitrescu or her sisters can actually really fully die. Sure, their bodies are gone, but their consciousness is stored in the hive mind and they can reform later after gathering their strength. If she has to put her kinda shitty found family in time out for the sake of getting herself out of here + keeping her newly revived conscience clean she's absolutely going to do it.

(fuckin. backgrounds. dialogue. fuck. why can things not just take place inside of the void. DUKE MY BELOVED WE LOVE AND RESPECT DUKE IN THIS HOUSE HES A REAL ONE fuck now I got it in my head that he keeps trying to play matchmaker for them and i need to. go draw that because its too funny not to.)

Lisas plan involves this lab I had her mention in the comic above. It's where Robbie needs to go to synthesize more poison for the dagger of deaths flowers, and SUPPOSEDLY where a medicine that might allow her to go outside again might be (enemies of Lisas type become SIGNIFICANTLY weaker in the cold. She could try to bundle up but its still really not a good idea). She would love to go there herself, but it's in an area of the castle thats exposed to the cold of the outdoors.

The Two of them make a fairly decent team and Lisa finds herself having a LOT more fun hunting with someone else than she does on her own. They balance each other out pretty well; Robbie works primarily with guns so he can watch Lisas back while she's up close wrecking any grunts they run into. It's also pretty helpful having someone who can turn into a swarm of flies for puzzle solving purposes.

After all this Robbies trust for her increases SIGNIFICANTLY. He's still not really sure about her, but she's moved out of the 'active threat' classification into the 'kinda helpful' zone.

Lisa's plan has three ways it could go:

They all fail miserably and get sent to mental and physical time out in the megamycite.

They win and get to go free but either the medicine isn't there or it doesen't work. In which case she's just planning on getting as many coats as possible and Try-or-Die-ing it.

The medicine is there and she actually gets to roam free

Luckily for her, the medicine IS there, it DOES work, and Robbies sense of honor / noticing her usefulness (its hard to wage a one man war on an entire community of mutants ok you cant blame him for appreciating having some ACTUAL HELP for once) all align for the best possible scenario.

The cold does still affect her; her healing isn't as quick as it usually is and her increased strength / speed is a bit reduced, but she can go!! outside!!

She decided to stick with Robbie in getting out of the village as a whole. She doesen't really know what the world outside is like but anything has to be better than here (plus if she stays here she's probably getting shoved into the Megamycite by Mother Miranda PERMENANTLY and that just. wont do).

Also yes Lisa being with Robbie for the rest of his adventures means that she is there for Heisenbergs 'proposal'. She uh. Does not like that much.

this all made. more sense in my head I hope it at least makes a little sense out loud.

#Ive been trying to write this out for 3 hours now. how do fic writers do this shit. HOW.#moose i thought i understood your 'brainworms of a different type'. i was w r o n g #my art #ghost rider re7 au #lisa (ghost rider)#robbie reyes #gabe reyes #sketch #RE!lisa

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gallifreyan-ginger-sociopath · 3 months

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How many fics is too many to post in like three days? Asking for a me.

Also, at what point should I collect the Pining Creature™ drabbles into one multi-chapter fic instead of posting them separately?

I don't want to feel like I'm hogging the Lisa Frankenstein AO3 tag honestly. But it's so hard because I can't stop writing.

#lisa frankenstein #i cant stop writing for this #somene talk me out of doing a full rewrite please i work so much and im losing sleep #but im going to see it again today and im planning to take notes so i can get more accuracy in fics #someone please messge me about this if you're willing to listen to my unhinged ramblings #you get the bonus (curse) of reading things before i post them #and watching me comb through 80s and goth song lyrics for titles

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beetlesanbutterflies · 3 months

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Rip Lisa and Taffy Swallows, you would have loved the My Sister the Vampire books

#they have very Ivy and Olivia vibes #another post made just for my sibling(hi Bestie)#taffy's support of Lisa even though she doesn't get the stuff she's into is very Olivia hanging with the vampires coded #anyone else remember those books #and creature is so totally that one vampire dude that Ivy had a crush on #in another universe Taffy is supportive of her sisters undead boyfriend and wingsmans for him cause she can tell how much he likes Lisa #maybe i should write a Taffy meets Creature fic #they need to team up #The Lisa protection squad #lisa frankenstein #my sister the vampire

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sxnshinericciardo · 7 months

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wait wait omg what about sewis with " sharing clothes in a totally friendly way" if you please?? i feel like lewis' fashion w seb would be incredible

i fear that this might be very different from what you imagined when you sent this request 😅, but the idea took hold of me so this is what we’re getting! hope you like it babe 💛.

warnings: takes place post-sex (nothing that happened is described), mentioned nudity but nothing is described, a few swear words, does not take place after any particular race.

here’s the prompt list this is from, feel free to send a prompt + a ship!

SHIRT SWAP. ❨ sewis. ❩

lewis doesn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep until the sound of the bathroom door opening wakes him up.

reluctantly peeling his eyes open, he watches the hotel room briefly illuminate from the bathroom’s light before it’s abruptly switched off and seb steps back into the room. it doesn’t take long for lewis’s eyes to adjust, given the bright moonlight spilling through the room’s flimsy curtains, and he can see that seb is wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt and some soft shorts, his shower-damp hair clinging to the back of his neck.

it’s definitely a change from the position he’d had the other man in less than twenty minutes ago, and for just a moment, lewis allows himself to think that seb looks just as beautiful right now as he did then.

but seb starts to move back towards the bed, his steps slow and leisurely, and lewis forces himself to shake the thought out of his head. he rolls over a little, tugging the sheets a little higher around his shoulders, but they fall off anyway when seb pulls them back to climb into bed.

“you need to shower,” seb murmurs, pulling the covers over his waist as he sits down and reaching over to grab his phone. “you still smell like motor oil, you’re going to stink up the bed.”

the words are lightly teasing but also serious, and lewis makes a point of grumbling as he heaves his tired body out of bed, taking in a sharp breath when the air of the hotel room, not cold but chillier in comparison to the warm sheets, hits his fully naked body.

“don’t be so dramatic,” seb teases as lewis trudges toward the bathroom, the exhaustion of the race earlier and their recent activities weighing down his steps. “the world is not going to end if you’re out of bed for a few minutes.”

“don’t think that’s what you were thinking a few minutes ago,” lewis quips back, and hearing an indignant huff and some shuffling behind him, he darts the rest of the way into the bathroom and shuts the door, just in time for the pillow seb’s thrown to hit the wood instead of him. he laughs loudly, their familiar back-and-forth suddenly making him feel a lot more energetic.

“oh, fuck you,” he can hear seb mutter, the comforting german accent muffled by the closed door.

“you just did, mate,” he says, raising his voice slightly so seb can hear, and laughs again when he hears another pillow hit the door before finally stepping into the shower.

✵✵✵✵✵

it’s not exactly new, this thing between them. they’ve been doing it since they were both much younger, still basically horny teenagers who needed someone to fall into bed with after a race, either to celebrate a victory or try to feel better after a disappointment. it had tapered off somewhat towards the end of seb’s f1 career, with both of them maintaining that it was probably best to start getting used to not doing it before seb was actually gone, and this is the first time they’ve done it since the german has started coming to races again. lewis isn’t quite sure whether seb thought lewis wanted to do it or the action was driven by his own desires, but either way, seb had pulled him into a hug after today’s race, congratulated him on his podium, and pulled away with his hotel room keycard in lewis’s back pocket.

they’ve never exactly named it, what this whole thing is, either. lewis supposes the most correct definition would be friends with benefits, but it’s more than that, at least to him. he and seb have always had a connection, one that goes deeper than friendship; they understand each other, more than even others in the sport understand them, and they care about each other in a way that lewis doubts even the drivers who are the best of friends do. (except for maybe charles and pierre, but those two were practically in diapers together so it’s a little bit different; they’re in each other’s minds because they were around each other while their minds were still developing, not because they had an instant, innate connection the way lewis and seb did.)

but their little arrangement isn’t exactly romantic, either. they kiss, sure, and it’s nice, but they only do it because they both agree that sex doesn’t feel right without kissing, not because of any kind of sentimentality. and it’s not like they cuddle or fall asleep together or anything afterwards; whichever one of them whose room it isn’t gives himself a few minutes to calm down and get dressed before he leaves and goes to fall asleep in his own room, back to being alone in bed.

which… isn’t ideal, at least not for lewis. in private moments like this, with hot water falling around him and drowning out the world as it runs into his ears, he can admit to himself that he wants to stay, wants to fall asleep with his head snuggled into seb’s neck, able to feel the german’s heartbeat beneath his fingers as he drifts off. and he can also admit that he’s wanted this, wanted more, for a while, wanted it before seb even announced his retirement and wanted to stop what they were doing and left him without the one person who’d always been his anchor in this sport and kiss he had shared with someone to try and get over the departure tasting like ash and a very misplaced feeling of infidelity.

not that matters, not really. well, it matters to him, obviously, it matters more than any race or any championship he’s ever won or might win in the future. but it doesn’t matter in the long run. because seb doesn’t want any more than what they have now, and no matter how much it hurts to push his own desires aside, lewis is going to have to accept that. because he knows, more surely than he knows anything else - he’d rather have this ache in his chest for the rest of his life than risk ruining his relationship with seb. even if he doesn’t know, may never know, exactly what the fuck their relationship is.

✵✵✵✵✵

it’s only when lewis steps out of the shower - after probably taking way too long, and he hopes seb isn’t annoyed with him for that - that he realizes he didn’t bring any clothes into the bathroom with him. even though there’s very little point in it considering seb has definitely seen every inch of him by this point in their lives, he wraps a towel around his waist before exiting the bathroom, leaving the light on so he can see without just going by the moonlight.

seb’s still sitting up on his phone, the pale light making his eyes shine in a way that’s totally different from how the moonlight made them look, and lewis has to force himself to stop noticing seb’s eyes as he makes his way to where their clothes had been discarded on the floor, two piles of fabric right next to each other.

“you took your time,” seb notes lightly, glancing up from his screen. his thumbs are still tapping away even though he isn’t looking - probably answering emails from whatever charity he’s working with at the moment, and lewis really has to force himself not to think about how much he loves the german’s dedication. “i was just joking, you know, you didn’t actually smell bad.”

“we really need to work on your joking voice, then, ‘cause you sounded fully serious,” lewis teases back, immediately followed up by, “where is my fucking shirt?” because he’s going through his puddle of clothes and looking around on the floor and under the chairs and the thing is not there. “did you see if it went under the bed or-”

it’s at that point he realizes that the shirt seb had discarded is still lying amongst the rest of his clothes. he also registers, a second later, a slight embarrassed hitch in seb’s breathing, and jerks his head up to look at the beautiful man sitting in his queen-sized hotel bed.

sitting there, lewis finally realizes, in his shirt.

seb clears his throat awkwardly, face flushing a bit in the glow of his phone screen. “i didn’t mean to grab it,” he says, sounding very much like he’s trying not to let his voice waver. “i didn’t even notice it was yours until i went to put it on after the shower. and, i mean-” he glances down at his lap for a second, muttering the last bit. “it’s comfortable. and it smells like you.”

and lewis’s first instinct is to make another teasing comment about how, according to seb himself, he doesn’t smell very good at all. but the words die on their way to his throat, drowned out by the sudden overwhelming feeling of warmth in his chest and the epiphany that, without him even realizing it, the exact change in his relationship with seb had already been made.

well. now that he’d actually caught up and realized it, might as well take advantage.

“‘s alright, mate,” he responded flippantly, bending down to grab his boxers from the floor and dropping the towel long enough to yank them on. “i hardly ever sleep with a shirt on anyway. besides…” he looks back to the beautiful man in the bed and, taking a slightly terrifying chance, winks. “it looks better on you than it did on me.”

the flush on seb’s cheeks gets a little deeper, and gives an internal celebratory fist pump. then, before he can lose his courage while he’s already ahead, he drapes his towel over the bathroom door and makes his way back to the bed, sliding under the covers next to seb.

“oh,” seb exclaims, looking over at lewis as he adjusts the covers around himself. “you’re… you’re staying?”

“yeah,” lewis replies, a stab of anxiety and doubt shooting through his chest, and he looks up at seb, suddenly feeling his earlier courage drain out of him. “do you… not want me to?”

his voice is small. he doesn’t hate it so much as he hates the fact that seb has to hear him like that.

but then a breathless, nervous smile takes over the german’s face, and seb is giving a small nod. “i do,” he says, voice soft, accent a little bit thicker. “i do want you to.”

and all at once, the anxiety is gone, replaced by bright sunbeams bursting into lewis’s chest, making him break out in a half-giddy returning smile.

“okay,” he replies, voice even softer than seb’s - and whether that’s just to match his tone or because of the breathless exhilaration taking over him, he can’t quite tell. “then i guess i’ll stay.”

“okay,” seb repeats, nodding again, still smiling, and then they don’t say anymore. they keep looking at each other for a minute, a silence exchange of all the words it’s definitely too soon to say but that they’ve both been thinking for ages, and then seb reluctantly turns back to his phone and keeps typing away. lewis lays his head down, closing his eyes - he really is exhausted, from the race and the sex and the emotions and everything - and just as he can feel sleep drifting into his senses, he hears the rustle of seb sliding a hand under the covers, and feels familiar fingers lacing with his own.

lewis doesn’t open his eyes. he just joins his fingers with seb’s, gives them one slight, loving squeeze, and slides into sleep with a faint smile on his face.

#˗ˏˋ my writing ´ˎ˗#˗ˏˋ request answers ´ˎ˗#˗ˏˋ sewis ´ˎ˗#sewis #sebastian vettel x lewis hamilton #sebastian x lewis #sewis fic #˗ˏˋ beautiful mutuals ´ˎ˗#˗ˏˋ lisa ´ˎ˗

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