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sarcasticsra · 2 years

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Now: imagine you’re Hob, and you meet a fey so stunningly poised, a true gem, in your eyes, of their court. You think their magnificence is only further enhanced by the fact that they, too, understand what it is like to serve others, to work so that others may enjoy the majesty of the Bloom. You share an unexpectedly tender moment, alone in the forest, and then it ends abruptly, and you are unsure as to what you have done.

This uncertainty is only further exacerbated when you are challenged to a duel by their assistant, and even once it is over, she refuses to tell you what offense you have committed. It seems logical to conclude that your foolhardiness in expressing any tender sentiments to someone so majestic was an insult that could not stand. As you are reminded by your superiors, you are a blunt instrument. That is your purpose.

Then you see them transform at the tea party, the lovely elven form fading away to reveal them as they truly are: a resplendent, breathtaking owlbear, eyes kind, nervous. You stumble over your own feet, marveling at the splendor of them. Their magnificence truly knows no bounds.

You realize, then, what an arrogant fool you were, to think anything you did or said impacted their thoughts in any way. They simply had their own inner worries to focus on. As if a humble goblin such as yourself could even begin to factor into any of their considerations at all.

And in the hedge maze, as you turn away from the scent of peonies, you know you are something else, even worse than a fool: a coward.

At the tailor’s shop, you remind yourself that you are an idiot, insignificant to their mind, but you remain enamored by them, the glory of their beauty such that it could inspire a sunrise to jealousy. They don’t say much when the conversation turns to deriding the Court of Wonder, and you are moved, wishing only to comfort them, as they describe their complicated feelings toward their court. You understand them. You know that isolation.

When they tell you that you were used, that it seems as though no one else in the Goblin Court has given any concern to your needs, you feel the coldness of the medal in your hand so keenly, stunned even as you know they are correct, unable to offer any reproach to their words. This wondrous fey before you is like none other you have met, and you are unworthy in their presence. You hurriedly give them your medal, rushing to the door, hearing but not heeding their insistence that you protect yourself.

At the masquerade ball, when the fireworks explode above, your only thought is of them. You act so rashly, ungentlemanly, placing your hands on them without permission, but their response is kind, gracious. You can scarcely believe it when they show you their empty dance card, and you feel the breath leave your lungs when they ask you for yours. You meet their eyes, feeling the magic in the air, and you eat your card, so that their name and their name alone will ever be the one it bears, as close to you as you can keep it.

You dance, and you dance, and you dance again, and even when you muck it up with your typical oafishness, they seem to enjoy it, to enjoy you. You are spellbound in their arms, and when they ask you what the P stands for in your name, you can only whisper it, a secret just for them. They smile, lifting a peony from their ensemble, and place it behind your ear, as if in exchange. For the first time in your life, you feel cherished. You feel pretty.

Their kindness this evening is a gift you will be grateful for forever. They have given you a glimpse of possibility, of what it might be like to be... loved, and it is as beautiful a dream as they are.

Reality, of course, returns the following morning, with your new promotion and your new assignment, and after your conversation with BINX, you think it is no wonder you are so easily cornered by Prince Apollo, as true a scoundrel as you’ve always suspected. You flee, taking substantial wounds for your trouble, but you do find the others, them included. They ask you if you’re hurt, and you try to assure them, but your answer seems to upset them, and you realize you must have looked a fright. Wounds are nothing to you if you may be of service, but of course someone so kind would be concerned. They ask you again about your own wants and happiness, and you do not know how to answer. There is no alternative to obligation, is there?

They simply wish you happiness before they leave, something in their demeanor... dampened, and Lady Featherfowl quite understandably assumes you’ve been stabbed once again, this time right through the heart.

At the theater, when the message from the Court of Sea Foam comes through the blossom, you are frazzled, moving to find more information, and the confirmation of your terrible suspicion feels like ice in your veins.

You are a fool. You’ve known it all along. Of course a fey so wondrous and glorious would not lower themself to entertain a lowly goblin like you. Of course they would not truly care about your wants, your needs. What you took as kindness out of obligation to the Bloom was nothing more than calculated cunning, expertly wielded to keep you off guard, to dissuade you from your mission. You’ve been tricked, made a mockery of, and so easily, too. It mustn’t have taken them much effort at all, to make you feel as you did--as you do.

You confront them, knowing you will be unable to fully conceal the effect they’ve had on you. Even now, in the moonlight, in their red-rose dress, they are stunning. They speak of love as the basis for their actions, as though the damage they have dealt to your court is irrelevant, as though your duty, your service, is irrelevant. You know now their actions toward you were a charade, but still it stings. You thought you understood them. You thought they understood you.

And then they tell you they love you, and you are caught, frozen, mouth agape, as they explain how much they love you and how much they care, that they’ve professed their feelings and did not receive a response. They explain why they turned away from you in the forest, that you inspired their glorious unveiling, and in that moment, your mind reels, and you feel as though you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

#acofaf #acofaf spoilers #battlemaster of ceremonies #okay so the rue POV made me want to write hob's lol #this one is a bit longer but he's kinda wordy so I guess that fits #I JUST LOVE THEM BOTH SO MUCH #this poor broken goblin who just needs at least an ounce of self esteem and a hug #he thinks it was all a trick and it's so sad :(#he thinks no one could possibly care for him #least of all someone as amazing as rue #hob you are loved and I will fight the entire goblin court on your behalf I swear #hob's relationship with service and his court is deeply fucked #why do I have so many feelings about a bugbear and an owlbear and their complex emotional bonds and traumas #why is it not next Wednesday yet #a court of fey and flowers #dimension 20

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cosmereplay · 7 months

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WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @chaos-monkeyy for a WIP check-in, thank you! 😊

I'm tagging @wanderingchanneler, @ternaryflower53, and @comiclysmic if you'd like to share anything you're working on--no pressure!

I need people to know that yes I am still working on Plausible Deniability and no I didn't expect that my last update was in JULY?? How did that happen? *cough* anyway here's some proof that I'm actually writing something:

(Rated Mature for mentions of sexuality. This is a Shakadolin fic btw)

Do what you’re good at, Shallan, Radiant encourages her. Calm them down. You can work it out. Shallan nods. She takes a breath and opens her eyes, standing to break up a fight. Her head tilts. What she sees isn’t unlike a fight. They’re kissing, Adolin grasping desperately at Kaladin’s waist, and Kaladin fisting Adolin’s uniform, seemingly unable to decide whether to push him away or pull him in closer. They’re twisting around each other, grappling, shuffling, frowning, panting small moans and grunts between smacks of their lips. Her heart starts to pound, putting her on the verge of panic. She feels like she's reacting every way at once. Her husband is kissing another man, right in front of her? Not to mention he's kissing a man she happens to be currently dripping for…storms. Had she seen this a day ago, without these feelings for Kaladin flooding her body, Shallan might’ve been angry. She can see the truth in the way he moves–Adolin doesn’t just want to experiment with other men. He wants Kaladin. And Heralds save her, so does she. She wants in. Shallan stands and coughs, and the men immediately break the kiss. They push each other apart, glancing away with guilty expressions, shamespren falling between them. Adolin’s eyes are wild. Shallan knows he wasn't sure about Veil's plan, and it looks like his night with Kaladin blew him over. When he's unstable he can get impulsive. Has she finally pushed him over the edge into madness? All her lies and deceptions and half truths… Is this what breaks him? She steps forward, her body tingling with mixed emotions, her mind scrambling to find the right words. Adolin speaks first. His voice comes out in gasps, as if he still hasn’t caught his breath from the kiss. “I’m so sorry,” he says, and steps forward, wiping his mouth. “I made a mistake. I’ve broken our oaths. Please don't leave me. I–” he gestures helplessly, frantically. She takes his hands, one wet, one dry. This is real. “No. Adolin, this isn't your fault. We're going to fix this. Together. Like Kaladin said. Right Kaladin?" She nods at him, and he seems to shake himself off. Resolutely, he steps forward, putting a reassuring hand on Adolin's shoulder. "The ardent said we can't…unspill the wine, so to speak," he says, voice gruff and low. "All we can do is, uh, pour it evenly." He slides his thumb up and down across Adolin's collarbone, which focuses the tingling in Shallan's body as she watches. He glances at Shallan and her heart skips a beat. Oh storms, he really believes it. He really is as committed now as he was when we talked about it. Kaladin raises his eyebrows at her, as if to say yeah, but you say it. Fair enough. She meets Adolin's eyes, uncertain whether she is about to calm the storm or add power to its winds. "When we were talking earlier, we came up with a solution. I can put myself in your place, do the same things with Kaladin that you did, and then you don't have to worry about breaking your oaths because I've done it too. We'll be even and we can go on from this together. Like always." Will it be even? Veil asks. What about all those times I– Not now!

#it's a bit wordy and repetitive still but it's a WIP so there's a chance I might fix that still #me? overexplain things? never #shakadolin #WIP Wednesday #tag games #stormlight fanfic #my fic

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musashi · 1 year

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Fuck DL6mas happy farewellversary

#wordy wendy #i wanna draw smth for shoulder shot Wednesday

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star-reyes · 1 year

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Story, Art & Design: Wes Craig

Colors: Jason Wordie

Letters: AndWorld Design

#Kaya #wes craig #jason wordie #andworld design #wednesday spoilers #image comics #Comics

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devondespresso · 11 months

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More Steve Henderson AU!! I love love love your idea behind how Dustin and Steve end up so close--it's so fitting for what glimpses of Dustin and Claudia we get in the show

sngdjysynsnysngzngsmh thank youuuuuu i really really appreciate it!! your encouragement means the absolute world to me 🕺✨

anyway we finally started writing scenes today!! with dialogue and everything!! woohoo! this snippet is part of a missing scene after the tunnels in season 2

“Yeah, so lets get his car back before he wakes up and he won't notice it was ever gone” Mike interrupted, slinging the passenger door open. Max glared at him. “He’s going to notice. He notices everything with his car.” “And there's mud all over the sides” “And there's definitely going to be mud inside after we ride back” “And its pretty safe to say at least some of Steve's blood got on the backseat” Oh God they're screwed.

#turns out I'm secretly worse at writing descriptions than i thought #its like i know what happens and if this were a screenplay i could totally leave notes on all the little details #but this is not a screenplay and i have to filter what i add and what i leave for the reader to imagine #devon's steve henderson au #steve henderson au rambles #im really enjoying trying to translate how the kids act on-screen onto the page #like lucas has this mature-for-his-age 'just use common sense' way of speaking. more sure of himself than in later seasons #mikes got that almost whiny 'why won't you just listen to me' energy to his voice especially when hes voicing his ideas #dustins the most fun bc he goes from unnecessarily wordy in an effort to sound cool to very gentle and clear when steve wakes up in the car #max is also cool because throughout the episode its like shes going back and forth between opening up and closing off #shes usually pretty short with her words until she gets comfortable and then she adds emphasis to words with this look of amused disbelief #sgnsjgskg also this is for wip wednesday. i forgot to clarify earlier. oops

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dollwritesarchive · 2 years

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hate to give y’all whiplash but next month my fic formatting is going to change !

#i want a more simplistic look I think #the intro is WAYYY too wordy #I’ll also be trying to start a new schedule of at least 1 fic a week— most likely on Wednesday

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unprojects · 9 months

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Wordy Wednesday

#Wordy #Wednesday

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muspeccoll · 27 days

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#WordyWednesday

Tree calf: A binding style, popular from the 1770s until the late 1920s, where calfskin leather would be treated with chemicals (ferrous sulfate and potassium carbonate) to form a distinctive branching pattern like a tree or a tree trunk. The result is pretty but also risky: if the leather was not thoroughly washed once the pattern had been burned into it, the ferrous sulfate would continue to eat into the leather until it was eventually ruined.

#bookhistory #rare books #bookbinding #books #history #university of missouri #special collections #libraries #mizzou #wordy wednesday #john henry

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thumpersdae · 1 year

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added a chapter to my Nick-coming-to-age fic. feel free to check it out!

#my wriring #wordy wednesday #nick close #erin oneil #dndads odyssey #trans boy #gardening #witchraft #debate

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kaitoshuno · 1 year

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Wordy Wednesday

#Wordy #Wednesday

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sweaterweatherever · 1 year

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If you are taking request, could you write an enemies to lovers with ajax? Like, expand on what you wrote in his post?

Do me a favour (Ajax Petropolus x Reader)

Pairing: Ajax Petropolus x Fem reader

Warnings: SMUT, sub Ajax, making out, mentions of getting high, thigh riding. Reader is judgy and bitchy. I wanted to hit her halfway. Reader is a vampire, but it’s mentioned like two times. Kind of an enemies to lovers, except Ajax refuses to get into it. And yes, I stand by thinking this boy has got to have somewhat initiative because did you see the date he got to the Rave’n? AGED UP CHARACTERS.

A/N: I really wanted to subvert the trope of enemies to lovers when it comes to smut. We usually get angry sex and the character domming the reader hard, and it’s cool, I like it, but I thought combining these two requests could be nice. Man, drunk me is wordy.

Requested: Yes, expansion in headcanons and Subby Ajax. I tried my best with the second.

“Oh, my god! Ajax is like! So cute, you guys! He is so tall and dreamy, and the way he puts his arms around me…!” Enid blabbered. You gave Wednesday a look, rolling your eyes. Wednesday glowered, which, considering she had like three facial expressions (Murderous rage, homicidal maniac and neutral serial killer, as you had affectionately named them) was just about an agreement.

“I don’t get what you see in him.” You said, laying back on her bed and doing some pretty hard gymnastics to keep painting your nails without messing up the covers. “He is just so…” It was not your intention to offend your friend by saying the guy she was dating was lame, but that was what came to mind.

Ajax was pretty normal, the only thing he had going on was the fact he was a stoner and tall. You didn’t approve of the first, and there were plenty of guys with the second on Nevermore. The bar was too low, really. He had a bland personality and wasn’t a great student either. It wasn’t like there was anything to dislike because he was the most boring boy on earth. Ugh, it was always the prettiest girls like Enid with the most dull boys.

“Me either. He’s just so…” Wednesday said, clearly trying to find a word that described her feelings. Then, with a shudder of disgust, she said the word. “Normal.”

You couldn’t agree more, but didn’t say anything, so Enid didn’t get upset. Besides, your dislike of Ajax was totally baseless because he treated Enid like a goddess. You kept quiet. Until Wednesday came to get you in the middle of the night because Ajax and her had broken up.

“She is… Emotional.” Wednesday explained to you. Her facial expression was definitely bordering dangerous levels of murderous rage. “I don’t know how to help, I already offered to bring her his head on a platter, the old Perseus style.”

“That's racist.” You said to her, frowning. “I’m in.”

“Go see her, please.” And so, that meant you made your way to the dorm, with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, Wednesday fretting uncomfortably around you. You held Enid until she fell asleep, her body wrecking with sobs.

“We are killing this asshole.” You muttered to her, adjusting your sunglasses as you exited the room.

“I’ll get the sword, you go for the mirror.” And that’s how it got started. Every time you found yourself near Ajax, you sniffled in disgust. Wednesday glowered in a menacing fashion, both of you shielding Enid from him. You couldn’t help it. Your reaction was visceral. When you saw the face Enid made when she looked at him, eyes lowering to her shoes, something tugged in your stomach. This mediocre guy had crushed your friend’s heart, and Enid was too kind to say anything to him, even going so far as telling you to stop glowering at him.

The breakup took a toll on her. Before, she was practically glowing, but now even her bright-colored clothes and makeup seemed to lose their shimmer. The first weeks were hard, but after a month she seemed to be over it. You remembered, though. Your opinion of Ajax had hit a new low, and so, you avoided him like the plague. It wasn’t really notorious because you weren’t his biggest fan before.

Two whole months after the fact, you sat down to lunch with the girls and your smile froze on your face. In the table in front of yours, Ajax was sitting down with Xavier, eyes glued to Enid’s back. You could only tell because you were sitting in front of her. Maybe it was a fluke? You waited a bit, but he wasn’t stopping. He even made eye contact with you, giving a tiny smile. The nerve of this guy!

“Oh my god, the guy can’t stop staring.” You whispered to Wednesday, when Enid was distracted with her phone. “Maybe he wants to get back with her?”

“We’ll nip that in the bud.” She turned to face him and gave him her most homicidal grin. Ajax quickly averted his gaze, looking properly cowered.

“Wednesday! Y/N!” Enid snapped her fingers playfully. “What are you two looking at?”

“Nothing.” You quickly said, but it was too late, she was already turning around.

“You guys have to stop with the whole hating Ajax thing. We have been texting and decided we want to be friends!” Enid chastised, clapping happily. Wednesday blinked. You knew her well enough to know that when Enid talked, she listened. And so, having lost your biggest ally, you had to let it go.

“Fine.” You grumbled. “As long as I don’t have to talk to him that much…” Oh, Ajax might have won this battle, but you would win the war. You lifted your head, catching him staring once again. You waited until he met your eyes, just so you could give him a smile and a cheeky wave, popping your fangs a little and almost making him spit out the water he was drinking.

You had to give it to him, the little shit was always one step ahead of you. That’s what you realized when you got called into the principal’s office just so they could tell you got a new job. Apparently you were to tutor Ajax in Botanic, a class in which you were surpassed both by Bianca and Wednesday in terms of skill. The excuse had been that Wednesday didn’t have the people skills necessary and Bianca refused, citing schedule conflicts. Besides, Ajax had asked Bianca before, and when she said no, he prompted your name to the principal.

You walked straight to him when you got out of the meeting, face so hot from your fit of temper, you could feel smoke coming out of your ears. You had tried saying no, but the principal wasn’t having it. They had explained one tutor had already refused, and you didn’t have schedule conflicts like her. You weren’t getting out of it.

“What game do you think you are playing?” You asked him, and he had the nerve to look confused. Xavier gave you a weird look. You ignored him too, eyes attached to Ajax. “You asked the principal for me to tutor you. Why?”

“Umm… because I suck at Botanic and you don’t?” Ajax peered at you, a small smile on his lips. Xavier snickered. You paid him no mind.

“Fine.” You eyed him, distrust clear in your face. "Meet me tomorrow in the library. We’ll go over the material for this week. Three o’clock.” You walked away, looking over your shoulder as you did so. Might be showing weakness, but you trusted him only as far as you could throw him.

“That went over well.” Xavier whistled, looking at your retreating form.

“Oh, I will win her over, you just watch.” Ajax punched him in the arm. “Maybe then she will smile at me.”

“Keep dreaming, Ajax. Girl has it out for you since you and Enid…” Xavier started saying, quickly trailing off when Ajax got a dopey look in his eyes.

“Yeah, but that only shows she is loyal. I like it.” Ajax defended you.

“You are delusional.”

The next day found you sitting in the library with some diagrams you had printed and a copy of your notes, ordered by date. You had two different practice tests because you were the kind of person who went all out. You took your education very seriously.

Ajax was right on time, looking for you in the different tables until you waved him over. He was holding two coffee cups, looking a little awkward out of uniform. He was in a hoodie and a nice pair of jeans. Not like you were paying attention or anything.

“Here. I got you a latte.” He said, sliding it over to you. You kept your expression closed off, not wanting to betray your real thoughts.

“Thank you. It was nice of you.” You deadpanned.

“Oh, tough crowd, aren’t you?” Ajax didn’t seem deterred in the very least. You grabbed the latte, eyes going wide when you sipped it and realized it was just the way you usually took it.

“Oh, so you are a talker. I don’t like it.” You slid a pen and one of the tests towards him. You were taking your questions to the grave. “Solve this, just to know where we are.”

He kept quiet, slowly filling out the test. Ajax’s brows were furrowed in concentration, lips pursed, a hint of teeth appearing sometimes when he bit his pencil. Without anything else to do, you kept watch of him. You noted with interest the way he didn’t seem to hesitate on filling up the diagrams, easily identifying the parts of plants you had picked on purpose because they were the hardest to do.

You went to grab the sheet at the same time Ajax was going to hand it to you, quickly, too quickly. Your hand ended up brushing his, and a confused, sinking feeling took place on your stomach. Were you imagining it, or there had been a spark? You pulled the sheet out of his grasp, desperate to stop this strange feeling, and wincing when the sudden move made it so you cut yourself with the paper.

You lifted your index finger to your mouth, sucking the blood from it. Your fangs went down automatically at the smell of blood, uncaring it was your own.

“Fuck.”

“Are you okay?” Ajax eyes darted from your finger, to your mouth, to your eyes. In that specific order. When you met them, unafraid, he scratched his neck, cheeks going red and quickly averted his gaze. You smirked. Was he afraid of you? Good.

“I’m fine. Give me five to check this, and we will talk about weak areas.” You stated. The test was pretty good for someone who claimed to need tutoring. Ajax was passing, even with a good grade. That made you tilt your head a little. The few errors you could see were pretty easy to fix, and weird compared to his level of compression of the rest of the subject.

You felt watched, weirdly enough. But every time you lifted your eyes, Ajax was staring at his phone or at the table, eyes never stopping on you. It was unsettling. What did he want?

You made up your mind when you got to the end of the practice test. You would call him bluff.

The tutoring session kept going, with you on your best behavior. You gave him the second practice test for homework and decided to meet again on Friday.

“Okay, I can work with this. You see the first question here, you got this one wrong. Not only that, but you said Nightshades’s properties included being poisonous, when it’s actually the contrary.” You blatantly lied. The lie was so evident, Ajax should jump to correct you with the level of knowledge he had displayed. But interesting enough, he didn’t. He kept his eyes politely trained on the first question, right where you were underlining with your pen. You were going to get to the bottom of this, you decided then. What could he possibly be gaining with this? “Oh, sorry, it was a slip of the tongue, I meant to circle the fifth question, forget what I said. You were right.”

To that tutoring session, Ajax showed up with a box of your favorite candy, munching on them and offering you one casually.

“Oh, I love these!” You smiled at him, in a truly involuntary way. You quickly cleared your throat, focusing on the homework. “So, page six…”

Ajax smiled at you, looking far too happy for someone who was about to be assigned additional homework on top of what he already had.

“Here.” He pressed the bag of candy against your hand. “Have them, I don’t like them much.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Why did you get them, then?”

“They were on sale.” Ajax quickly answered.

“At the vending machine?” You perched yourself on the chair, searching his face for any sign of deceit. As usual, he avoided your eyes. But you were unable to tell if it was from his nervousness about his powers or because he was lying.

“Does it matter?”

“Why are you giving me things?” You asked, rubbing at the bridge of your nose. A headache was starting, you could tell. “First the coffee, now the candy…”

“Umm, maybe because you are doing me a huge favor by cutting your study hours to help me pass?” Ajax offered, looking sheepish.

“You don’t need me for that.” You muttered, but humored him and started going over the errors on his homework, getting more sure with each one that this guy was smarter than he looked.

You didn't understand why you didn’t put a stop to it right then. You kept repeating to yourself you weren’t sure Ajax was faking his weakness in the subject, you needed more evidence. But thing was, you could just ask Wednesday to get you the evidence and call it a day anytime. And yet, you kept going back to him. You tried to rationalize it, saying it had been a while since a boy showed interest in you, that you liked the attention. You also said that the principal was making you do this, that it wasn’t like you went back to him every week out of your own accord. But you had also started to look for him out of tutoring, smiling at him in the hallways, making small talk when he was near. Something was wrong with you.

Why did your heart flutter every time he pressed a tiny trinket in your hand? Why didn’t you pull away, why did you smile at him?

You were unable to keep denying the truth when, under the pretense of fixing his tie in the middle of a tutoring session, you placed your hand on his chest. Ajax always wore his uniform messily, and it drove you up the wall. This time, something about the way his tie was messily knotted called to you, something told you to fix it for him.

Ajax didn’t pull away, transfixed by the way your fingers grabbed at the item. You unknotted it, going on your tip toes to take it off, lacing it over your neck and tied a Windsor, before placing it over his head and adjusting it. Your hands lingered, adjusting the knot, once, twice times too many.

You looked up, lips parted. For the first time in a while, you made eye contact. But this time, you were the one who blushed and looked away.

“I… I… I got to go.” You grabbed at your backpack, almost running out of the library.

“Y/N, wait…” Ajax called out. You didn’t listen. You were too preoccupied with your newly discovered feelings. You had a crush on Ajax. No. That didn't sound right. This wasn’t a crush. It was something worse. You were in love with Ajax. The plainest, most undeserving of Enid, boy in the school.

Your feet took you to your friend's room, without needing to think about it. You knew the school like the back of your hand, and right now, you needed something only Wednesday could give you. Cold, hard truth.

You knocked on the door, frantic, hoping Enid was somewhere else. She could never find out about this, it would mean destroying your friendship. God, why? Under this new light, your conduct looked terrible. Enid would think you had been trying to break them up from the start. No, she could never find out. You needed to fix this.

“Y/N.” Wednesday said, from her place in front of the writing machine. “What do you want? You sounded pretty desperate.” You looked for Thing, assuming he must have been the one to open you the door, giving him a little wave. He responded to it, and you smiled a little, before starting to pick at your nail beds.

“I might need some cognitive recalibration, Wednesday. Could you slap me, please?” You asked, and Wednesday rolled her eyes.

“What has brought on this fit of dramatics? Surely, Enid is better prepared than me to deal with it?” Wednesday rose, all elegance.

“I fucked up. I’m in love with Ajax.” Wednesday raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Plainest boy on earth? Turns out he can really turn on the charm offensive, it was really insidious, he got inside my head, with his stupid jokes, and stupid smile and perfect eyes…” You groaned in frustration. “Ugh, see? Please, slap me, and let’s see if it goes away because I won’t fuck up my friendship with Enid over a boy, especially if he is plainest that white bread, untoasted.”

“I think it is a bit late for that.” Wednesday said, looking behind you. You turned, heart beating wildly.

“Enid!” You screeched. The werewolf looked impassible, expression blank. This girl had been the first friend you had made at Nevermore, in your orientation on freshman year, when you had been terrified by strangers and jumpy at every sudden move, overwhelmed by your recently awakened senses. Enid had approached you then, kind and gentle, making sure of not scaring you, and befriended you swiftly. She had helped you grow into your powers, and become more confident in yourself. You owed her everything you had. If you had to choose, your heart would break, but you would force yourself to forget Ajax. You would rather be heartbroken than without her. You loved her like a sister, and so, if she asked you to help her get back with him, you would.

“Please, forgive me. I didn’t mean to, I swear I won’t ever look at him again, hell, if you want me to stop tutoring him I will, I never wanted this, you have to believe me, when you guys were together I was trying to break you up, but not from why you think it is! I didn’t want him then, I don’t want him now!” You begged, tears prickling at your eyes, not noticing how a tiny smile started to make its way on the other girl’s face. You would have kept blabbering, totally uncontrolled, if not for the interruption.

“Y/N.” Enid said, and your jaw clicked with how fast your mouth shut itself. “I was the one who broke up with him.”

You opened and closed your mouth, looking at Wednesday, who looked as dumbfounded as you were.

“But… But… You cried so much… And we gave him so much shit!”

“Don’t be mad at me, okay?” Enid raised her hands in surrender, looking between Wednesday and you. “I felt terrible because I had a crush on someone else! That’s why we broke up! I was just too scared to tell you guys.”

“Oh.” You sat down on one of the beds. “Oh.”

“Ajax has already forgiven me.” Enid sat next to you, passing an arm over your shoulders. “You can have him if you like, I know you genuinely weren’t trying to break us up, so you could steal him from me, you know? You were looking out for me.” Then, she turned to look at Wednesday, eyes full of love. “You both were.”

It was too much. You promptly started bawling your eyes out, relieved. Enid hugged you and Wednesday placed a hesitant hand on your shoulder. You cried even harder.

“Oh, stop it.” She said, pinching you hard on the arm and making you yelp. “There, a reality check. If you want that plain boy, even if I can fathom why, you can have him. Enid already authorized it, and he trails after you like a lovesick puppy. That must be enough to put an end to your dramatics.”

“Wednesday!” Enid exclaimed. “That was rude.”

You started laughing uncontrollably. Everything was going to be fine. You just had to deal with Ajax, but that could wait until tomorrow.

The next day, you woke up with a pep in your step. You did your hair and make up, putting on your nicest outfit. After breakfast, you sought Ajax out. He was sitting with Xavier on the grass near the woods, headphones on. Xavier was drawing something and leveled you with an unimpressed glance. You ignored him.

“Ajax.” You smiled. “Walk with me?” He looked adorable this morning, in a light blue hoodie with a matching beanie. The butterflies in your stomach started making their appearance once more. Ajax quickly found his feet, and started following you.

Once you got far enough so that Xavier wasn’t in hearing distance, you turned.

“You wanted my attention, didn't you?” Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, and you couldn’t help but wring your hands in front of you. Remembering that was the signature gesture of the house elves in the Harry Potter franchise, you quickly dropped it, hands coming nervously to brush at the sides of your jeans. You didn’t want to look like a house elf, you wanted Ajax to think you were cool.

“What?” Ajax asked, blinking at you. “What are you talking about?”

You kept walking, this time by his side.

“You didn’t have a need for a tutor in Botanic, Ajax. Your grades are almost as good as mine.” This piece of information had come from Wednesday, who, for someone who hated gossip, knew her fair amount of it. Maybe Enid was rubbing on her.

“Where are we going?” Ajax deflected, looking away from you.

“My room.” You answered, even when you could feel the blush that was starting to form on your cheeks. “You wanted my attention.”

“I did.” He admitted, blushing. Then, looking like he was about to faint, he made eye contact with you. “What are we…?”

“We are going to have a talk about valuing people’s time and then, if you are good, we might make out.” You could feel your blush go darker, and you closed your eyes, remembering Enid’s advice. Be bold. Be blunt. Ajax wouldn’t know subtlety even if it hit him in the face. She should know what she was talking about because she had dated him. Hesitantly, your hand went to grab his. Ajax’s fingers opened, accepting yours, sliding in between them. His hand was warm, and a little sweaty. You found it so endearing, you wanted to kiss him. Ugh, was love supposed to feel like this? You trusted Wednesday, you did, and so, you were pretty sure Ajax liked you back. But still, you were nervous.

“Wait, so you like me? You are not…mad?” Ajax turns to face you, hesitantly grabbing your other hand.

“Would you prefer I was mad?” You ask him, carefully schooling your expression.

“I just wanted you to smile at me.” Ajax nervously ran his thumb across your wrist. “You smiled at everyone, but never me. You didn’t like me. ”

“Oh, I didn't want to like you, you infuriating, clueless, handsome, stupid boy.” Ajax looks confused, and you can’t stand his kicked puppy look anymore. So, you press a kiss to his lips, just so he gets it. Ajax parts his lips a bit, allowing you entry, and his hands drop yours, choosing instead to go and circle your waist. You let him pull you closer, so you are flush along his body. You have kissed some people before, from clumsy first kisses to passionate making out just for the sake of it. But this, this has to be the best kiss you have ever had.

“Come on, dorm” You say, unable to stop kissing him. It’s a miracle you managed without a teacher catching you, unable to keep your hands off each other. At first, it's only you, Ajax much more hesitant. But then, when he catches on you want him and that he is allowed to touch you back, his hands are everywhere.

This is what you will say after. You have no clue how things escalated, how one kiss turned into a dozen, how you ended up with that hickey in your neck. How you end up on your back, Ajax’s hip bones digging into your upper thigh, with the way he is kissing and sucking your neck like he was the vampire out of the two of you.

No clue how, or why, he lifts his head, pretty blush on his face and says, “Umm, sorry, can you…?” Ajax wets his lips, suddenly self-conscious. “Umm, maybe, move your leg, sorry. It will go away.”

You don’t get it at first, until you zero exactly into what the weight against your thigh is.

“Can I?” You tease, unable to not do it. Ajax looks too damn good with that blush on, you want it to stay as long as possible. He is sweet, too, leaving all choices in your hands. You had been the one setting the pace, begging him to kiss you everywhere. You like it. It’s a heady feeling, having all this power at your fingertips, but also a responsibility. Ajax is trusting you with his body. “Which direction?” You ask, suddenly serious.

“Excuse me?” Ajax is getting redder by the minute. You can’t help but smile. You want him to feel good, he worked so hard at winning you over, waiting patiently for you to met him halfway. Ajax deserves something nice.

“Away or forward?” You say, pressing your thigh more against his erection, just so he knows what you mean. “I’m cool with whatever.”

“Oh. Forward, maybe? If you want?” He asks, eyes closing. You pass your arms beneath his armpits, locking them behind his back and pulling him back to you. You press a kiss to his jaw, open-mouthed. It’s cute he is into hickeys so much, you think, hearing his whimper. His heart beats wildly, pulse fluttering in your grasp. He smells good, and your gums itch with the urge to bite him, to own him, to make him yours.

“What do you want, Ajax?” You kiss his neck next, dragging your teeth along the carotid. He shivers, but you don’t receive any kind of response. “You just have to say the word.”

“Forward, please.” And you aren’t so cruel as to make him beg, head over heels as you are for him, so you press your thigh lightly against his erection. You intend to take him apart with light touches, playing the long game. But Ajax doesn’t agree. His hips rut against your thigh, harshly, hungrily.

“Greedy.” You mutter, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Come on, rub yourself on my thigh, baby boy.” You encourage him, one of your hands dropping to his hips to help him settle into a rhythm and not only desperate, jerky movements.

Ajax shakes, whimpers once again, face going to hide in the crook of your neck. You scratch at his nape, surprised when something cold touches the tips of your finger. A tiny, bifid tongue. His snakes.

You keep your cool, closing your eyes just in case. You will mention it after when Ajax settles down. Determined, you press your thigh a little harder, pulling his face out of your neck, blindly searching for his mouth, pressing kisses all over his face.

When you finally find it, you bite on his lower lip, lightly. Not enough to draw blood, but you have caught him staring at your fangs once or twice when he thought you weren’t looking, when he thought you hated him. Maybe he would like it, you have a hunch about it. And you weren’t wrong because Ajax gives a little shout, hips pushing once, twice, thrice and freezes. His body goes taut, you can feel it against yours and so, you are careful as to not press too much. You don't intend to hurt him, after all. Not yet. You would love to see the face he makes when he comes, but you would rather not end up stoned.

“Shit. Sorry. How embarrassing…” Ajax sounds disappointed in himself, and you don’t want that. Never. In your mind’s eye, you can see his kicked puppy look, how the blush on his cheeks would make its way down his neck. You don’t want his eyes to go all sad, you know your heart would break at his face. It’s for purely selfish reasons, you think to yourself, and smile blindingly.

“That was the hottest thing ever. “ You say, eyes still closed, looking for his cheek, so you can press a kiss there. “Got, like, dozens of fantasy material.”

“Why do you have your eyes closed?” He asks, hand stroking your cheek lightly and steering you back to his mouth. You press a kiss there, too. You can tell Ajax is worried, but he seems unable to contain himself, and he smiles into the kiss. “Did my snakes do…”

“One of them licked me, by your neck. Just in case, I’m not scared or anything, but it would have been hard to explain to the nurse how this happened.” You say, and Ajax laughs. You two would be busted, totally. Your dorm mom would have your head, and probably you would have to speak to the principal. You hear him shuffle around, likely adjusting the beanie.

“You can look now.” His eyes are full of regret, and you want to get rid of the sadness there by any means necessary. “Sorry again.”

“Was cute, you know? Maybe they were curious.” You smile at him, lightly scratching his back. Just like a puppy, Ajax melts against you, offering more of his back to scratch. You don’t know what drug you took, but you smile, again. You just can’t help yourself.

“Aren’t you scared of them?” He hesitates, pulling his face out of your shoulder.

“Ajax, I bit your neck and lips, and I am a vampire. Were you scared?” You ask back, biting your lip a little. You were pretty sure he liked it, judging by his reactions, but you knew having a vampire’s teeth against your throat might be off-putting for some more rational people.

“No, but…” You shush him, placing your index finger against his lips. Ajax playfully bites it, but his eyes are on yours the whole time.

“Unlike dying out of blood loss, stoning is temporary. It’s cool.” You say.

“Cool.” He mutters, but he doesn’t go back to his place near your shoulder. “So…I am… We are…” Ajax can’t find the words, but you know what he is asking.

“Yes, now come here, I wanna cuddle.” You pull him on top of you once more, wrapping your legs around his waist. Ajax just slumps and you sigh happily. This was precisely what you wanted.

#wednesday 2022 #wednesday netflix #my writing #ajax petropolus x reader #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe #enid sinclair #ajax petropulus x y/n #ajax petropulus x you #ajax petropolis x reader #ajax x you #ajax smut #ajax fluff #ajax petropulus imagines #ajax petropolus #ajax petropulus smut

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spiderlandry · 11 months

Text

Routine — ethan landry

Description: Ethan feels you slowly drift away as you spend time with another person.

Pairing: Ethan Landry x GN!Reader (they/them pronouns)

Warnings: unedited, kinda wordy, fluff, jealousy, some angst but happy ending

Word Count: 1.9k

Author’s note: can u guess who reader’s chem partner is ??

Tradition and routine are important to Ethan Landry. Since you’ve made the decision to have lunch with him every Wednesday at the diner a few blocks from his apartment, he eventually begins to expect you to show up there without a text message. It’s routine, now. It’s a tradition—and he didn’t realize how sacred it was to him until his phone pings with a text from you on a Wednesday:

hey im sorry i cant make it to lunch i got assigned a small project in chem and its partners :/ and we could only find a time for today (ugh) lunch next wednesday?

sorry again. have a good lunch!! dont have too much fun without me tho

He’s not bothered. Why would he be? You sound like you’d rather be with him than working on that project, so he’s flattered in that aspect that you sound somewhat possessive with the, ‘don’t have too much fun’.

It’s not like he’s already at the diner already.

(He was on his way.)

But it’s only a blip in the hundred other moments you spend with him, even if those moments are also spent with other people present.

So he doesn’t take it to heart. Even if his heart slightly aches without you beside him, almost a symptom of withdrawal, which he won’t realize until much, much later.

Ethan often spends time in the main library on Friday nights. He’s not a stranger to the usual people who also spend their time there, there’s not a lot of people because there are better things for a college student to do on Friday nights. Ethan is different. Although, he only started going on Friday nights because midterms are soon and he can’t afford to fail or retake anything.

However, a familiar figure comes into the library next to a tall stranger. You, with some guy, trying to playfully shush him as you enter the quiet space earning some dirty looks from students around.

You lightly slap the stranger’s arm with a grin, and you don’t see Ethan—he’s sitting in a corner and you’re turned away from him.

There’s no denying that the stranger is handsome. Tall, brown hair, somewhat dorky mannerisms but in a charming way. Ethan could be in love with this guy if he himself isn’t so in love with you.

Ethan opts to look down at his work instead, eyes almost unfocused as the thought of losing his chance being brought to the forefront of his mind.

What he doesn’t see a few seconds later, between the shelves, slightly closer to Ethan, you finally spot him. He doesn’t see the way your smile droops slightly, and how the man next to you asks who you’re staring at.

“Oh,” you whisper to your chemistry partner, Peter, “That’s Ethan. The guy I told you about.”

“You’d look good together.” He teases.

You almost kick him jokingly, but he dodges. “Just because I told you my crush doesn’t mean you get to tease me. Plus, if you do, I’ll tell Gwen about yours.”

But of course, this conversation happens outside of Ethan’s earshot. You’re not looking at him anymore, and as he glances up one more time, he only sees the smile directed at that stranger that used to be reserved for him on Wednesday afternoons.

Yeah, I’ve lost my chance, Ethan thinks.

Ethan has decided to spend more time with his friends. It has nothing to do with you, not at all. (It’s not denial.) He lounges in the Carpenter apartment on Saturday night with Chad and Tara. Mindy was also supposed to be there, but texted last minute she can’t make it.

They assure him he’s not third-wheeling, but he definitely is.

But he stops himself before he suggests he can leave. He gives it a chance, because otherwise he would be alone in the dorm—and on a normal occasion he’d leave and call you instead, but he has a feeling your voice will only draw him back to the reliance of your presence. You haven’t talked since Wednesday, since that text message that Ethan believes is the beginning of the end.

Chad notices Ethan’s faraway look, they’re both sitting on the couch while Tara gets a drink from the kitchen.

“You okay, man?” His roommate snaps him out of the daze. “You seem sad.”

“I’m not.” Ethan has answered that too quickly to either of their liking, but it goes unmentioned.

“You can talk to me. If you want.”

Chad’s become more emotionally available since the first time they moved in together, Ethan appreciates that his friend makes an effort even if it seems to take some work. So Ethan humours him.

“Y/N. They’re spending time with this guy and I just—I don’t know.”

Tara comes back with a few sodas, handing one to him and to her boyfriend.

“Y/N?” She echoes, sipping from her drink. “You mean they’re spending time with Peter?”

Ethan realizes maybe he shouldn’t have said anything because Tara’s close to you and if he says something she might say something—

“I won’t tell them.” She says, sensing Ethan’s panic. “They’re just friends, if you’re wondering.”

Chad is grateful for his girlfriend stepping in. She certainly knows more, at least in that respect.

“Aren’t they chem partners, or something?” Chad asks her, wanting to alleviate the tension he can sense on his best friend. He remembers Tara offhandedly mentioning it one time.

(Let’s be honest, anything Tara knows, Chad knows too.)

“Well,” Tara prevents herself from a grimace. “They were partners. Y/N told me they finished the project. So now they’re just friends.”

It has the opposite effect that Chad had wanted.

It only lets Ethan know that it won’t be long until you introduce this Peter to the group as your boyfriend, probably.

“Can we change the subject?” Ethan requests.

He’s thankful as they adamantly jump into another topic about something funny that happened recently, an inkling deep in his soul that they did it on purpose to make him laugh—a hint of relief as he thinks, friendship isn’t that bad. (It’s good.) You and him could still be friends, he thinks. And that’s what he wants, for you to be in his life in any capacity, long as you’d let him.

Sunday nights are movie nights in the Carpenter household. And that tradition is extended to the entire group, including you. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous—his palms are sweating, his legs are bouncing, and his mind is anywhere else besides the present.

You arrive late, and the movie hasn’t started because they’re waiting for you.

Ethan thinks Chad or somebody must have done it on purpose, because the only empty seat on the couch is the one right next to him.

Obviously, you take it. The proximity is almost too much for Ethan, but he’d be a damn liar if he said it didn’t help his anxiety just a little bit. You take away his nerves after they appear in the absence of you. You’re his medicine.

The movie starts and you still don’t say anything to each other. He ignores the looks from Chad and Tara, and you seem to be oblivious to it as you keep your eyes on the television.

By the second movie, you’ve both gotten more comfortable, leaning into each other— and to Ethan’s surprise, you put your head on his shoulder. He looks around and no one notices. Not because they don’t care, but because they’re all asleep.

You fit so perfectly almost as if you’d been like this before, in a different lifetime of another universe.

Unbeknownst to Ethan, you had your own intent coming into this movie night, late on purpose and nerves taking away your courage in the absence of Ethan.

SUNDAY MORNING

Sometimes, you’d invite someone to get coffee with you when mornings were pleasant enough to be with other people.

Today, Tara said she was available to get coffee after you’d sent a text to the group chat asking if anyone wanted to come—so you got coffee with her.

It wasn’t your intention, but still, you end up at her apartment half an hour later, chatting about what’s happened in the week.

Somehow the topic of dating has come up, and Tara rambles about Chad’s funny ideas about dates that you laugh at.

Much to your dismay, the question tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it. “How do I know if I’m in love with someone?”

She can’t read your face, it’s blank. But she can read your tone: the layer of uneasiness and worry that you’re trying to hard to bury and keep hidden. She tries her best not to show any emotion, either. Because there could only be two possible answer to the question Tara is about to ask.

“Who are you in love with?”

“Who said I was?” Quick answer, deflect the question.

“You’re thinking it, though.”

“So what if I am?”

And she just decides to lay it on the table. “Is it Peter?”

Your instinct is to laugh, because from your perspective, not a universe exists where you and Peter have any romantic connection. And you say, “Why would it be Peter?”

Tara realizes you’re serious pretty quickly. “Everybody thinks that.”

Your face drops, brows furrow. “Seriously?” Tara nods.

“Does Ethan think that?”

Tara smiles.

She has her answer.

PRESENT

The feeling of being close to him is intoxicating. You snake your hand toward his, playing with it until you loosely begin to hold his hand.

Your hand in mine feels right, he thinks. For a split second, his breath is stolen, but the tiny space between your palms get warm—he can breathe—and the warmness travels throughout Ethan’s body and suddenly he wants to verbalize every unspoken word from each interaction with you, but all words come back to I love you I love you I love you.

But there is one thing.

“What about...” He whispers, gulps. “Peter?”

And that’s when you finally look up at him and he turns his head to face yours—a mistake—you are much too close for his heart not to burst. He can feel your breath and he’s sure you can feel his, and there’s nothing else he can think of as he waits with bated breath for your response.

“Why would I wanna be with him when I want to be with you?”

You say it so casually, so surely, as if you’re certain nothing can take away that statement—that truth—from your grasp. The tone catches him so off guard that his words are lost for a moment.

Your eyes aren’t expectant in that moment, though waiting. You’re patient, as if you know what he’s going to say.

“Will—” he tries to be quiet, “will you go on a date with me?” Your smile gets impossibly wider and it mirrors his.

“Always.”

Tara, laying next to Chad nearby—pretending to be asleep—suppresses a grin of her own.

Additional A/N: personally i think their first date is at the diner !! and the diner staff see the progression of their relationship every wednesday lol and yes the chem partner is peter parker (specifically had andrew’s peter in mind, i think that’s clear with the ‘tall’ if not the gwen part LMAO)

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream #scream vi #scream 6 #ethan landry fluff #scream x reader #scream 6 x reader #jack champion

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