#but they initially got together and created something wonderful

[foldingfittedsheets]

Buckle up for another unhinged story time. Now, as I’ve said before, I used to work at a sex shop. At one point I had three roommates and we all worked the same dildo slinging retail job and lived together. It was extremely sitcom.

Now, as you’d imagine, living with three other people who also talked about sex toys all day created a microcosm of people who were all extremely comfortable around sex toys and related topics. No one left dirty toys laying around but seeing things left in showers or showing off a new purchase was just a Tuesday.

After some life upheavals I ended up living with one of those roommates again, just me and her. For the sake of this story let’s call her Betty. Betty and I shared a two bedroom, and the layout was all the common spaces were an open floor plan and then one hallway formed a T, with my room and bathroom to the left and Betty’s to the right.

Well, one day my cousin calls me up. He’s coming to town for a visit and I offer to put up him, his wife, and their more… sheltered friend. (Unbeknownst to me there was a full Briefing for this girl before she met me so that I didn’t overwhelm her with my blasé attitudes towards- well, most things).

They drove in from two states over and it was a long drive. I had to work and couldn’t greet them or spend the first day together. So I told them to come grab my key so they could all shower off and settle in before me.

I arrived home later that night and found the atmosphere a little awkward at first. Things quickly warmed up and I charmed their friend, impressing my cousin with my immaculate respect for personal comfort levels. We had a lovely evening. By the time we all said goodnight I’d dismissed the initial tension as being tired after a long drive.

The next day we all decided to go to the zoo. I’m a morning shower person, but I let them go first while I made breakfast. After breakfast it was my turn and I hopped in the shower.

Midway through my eyes fixed on it. A little pink sex toy, sitting brazenly on the rim of the tub. Oh no, I thought. This was why things had been awkward yesterday! I left out a personal object because I’d literally forgotten to ever put them away by that point.

What I felt wasn’t embarrassment per se, because that emotion had been utterly eradicated by that point. Rather it was a deep shame that I’d leave out something that might make a guest feel uncomfortable. They told me their friend was sheltered and I had left out a sex toy, it was the epitome of rudeness!

I rejoined everyone and said, “I am so sorry! I didn’t realize I’d left that in the shower, that was so rude of me!”

My guests all exchanged a Look. I looked from my cousin to his wife, she glanced toward their friend, and their friend looked at my cousin. No one would look at me.

“Well…” my cousin finally said, “you didn’t tell us which room was yours yesterday.”

I blinked in confusion, Betty’s room and bathroom were basically just like mine.

“When we got here,” his wife continued, “we went to the other side first. In Betty’s bathroom.”

Reader, Betty’s bathroom.

Had been absolutely covered in dildos. Sex toys of all shapes and sizes covered every flat surface, the tub rim, the sink, the shelves. Wall to wall sex toys. Apparently Betty was doing a spring cleaning and had left her entire extensive collection out to air dry.

These three weary travelers had opened a door to the dildo dimension and had no idea how to react. To this day I have no idea what context clues they used to figure out Betty’s room from mine.

But when I’d come home they were lost in the sex toy shell shock, presumably wondering how they could ever talk about it with someone who felt it was okay to leave out every sex toy they own when expecting company in some kind of bizarre power play.

By the time they finished telling me about this we were all laughing so hard we were in tears.

“When we saw your bathroom with one little pink toy it was so discreet we didn’t even care!” They told me.

After my cousin and his crew had gone on their way I finally told Betty the whole story. She listened with eyes growing wider and wider and finally burst out, “That’s why they were so weird when I got home!!”

#ramblies #funny #story #writing #nsft #ffs foibles

[halemerry]

Alright, not to be too predictable, but I wanna talk about space and color as it's used in the intro to episode 1 for a minute. And you know, show some gorgeous space shots.

So we open in the dark. There's distant lights and the occasional flare from them moving through space but for the most part we get the angel that would eventually become Crowley alone in enough darkness that he himself isn't even giving off particularly significant amounts of light.

But then, enter Aziraphale. He arrives in a big ball of blue light shining above him that really emphasizes Crowley's red hair. They get tied to the colors we most often see them attached to, especially in promotional materials.

From here the entire scene gets slightly brighter, even once Aziraphale's light dims down. They're both lit up once they're together, even it the middle of literal nothingness.

They start the universe next, using Crowley's hand crank, which gives off a magic that's a combination of their two colors - purple.

A very similar color to this shows up in heaven as a signal flare for their accidentally too powerful half a miracle. It's a color tied to a miracle so big it could've revived someone 25 times and also a miracle that got the engine of the universe running.

And then. Creation starts. Our first image is a very Heavenly aesthetic. It's a blueish light cutting through the clouds much like Az just cut through the dark.

And what explodes from that is the thing that set me down this little rabbit hole in the first place: it's purple scattered through with red and blue lights.

As the initial burst fades, the blue and the red separate, the color fading except for this tiny blue dot and this growing red zone on the right.

The blue then fades, leaving us with an extremely Crowley coded palette here and a very orangeish red. There's shades of gray, a little bit of light, but not nearly as much color. As the sequence moves the darkness grows but does start slowly filling with small points of light.

We then end up with shades of gray both light and dark. There's balance here, even if it's not particularly colorful.

And then all at once a pinkish red bursts forth with these intense clawing tendrils. At the core of it, from the heart of it, is a bright blue ball of light.

It fades into a blue heart surrounded by darkness with whisps of white resembling a certain someone's hair. Or, as some friends pointed out two people embracing.

As the nebula settles a few other colors set in but the primary scheme is still red and blue. An almost violent plume of red emerges on the left side of the image.

And from this moment on most shots of the two of them back them with their respective color schemes.

They chat and Aziraphale gets anxious. He looks for a distraction and is immediately drawn to the space where the colors mix.

And as we fade out the other colors in the picture fade. We get the most balanced blue and red get. And on the far corners fairly clear dark and light.

So what does this mean? The purple speaks to them being very powerful together. And, the rest is arguably just representative of the plot. We have Aziraphale as a beacon in the dark - a signal flare we know Crowley has throughout history been aware of and drawn to. We have them brightening each other. We have Az's color breaking out of heaven to mix with Crowley's to create something new and wonderful and powerful. Aziraphale's color fades, leaving Crowley alone. We then get a burst of a red closer to Crowley's current hair, with Aziraphale's blue in the core of it that eventually becomes a blue heart surrounded by darkness. That too fades, replaced by the pillars becoming their familiar hand shape and slightly more colors seeping in. As they talk together and move closer together their own colors settle back in and come to balance.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #gos2 spoilers #Aziraphale #Crowley #space #good omens meta

[hazbin-writings-and-musings]

Lucifer Morningstar x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons

As much as dear Lucy and reader enjoyed themselves in this headcanon post, I can't help but imagine such activities might lead to Charlie become a big sister, so I put some headcanons together for such a situation. I know that Sinners can't get pregnant as canon currently stands, so I typically employ either the Rules of Fanfic or I imagine reader is a living human that ended up in Hell through magic shenanigans (will elaborate with a prompt post once I've got the spoons), though of course you're free to imagine them as Hellborn or whatever suits your fancy!

Warnings: Pregnancy Mention, Implied Smut

- He's insistent you see the Royal Physician as soon as you start experiencing symptoms, but he's not at all prepared for the diagnosis you bring back, and he might need you to repeat it a few dozen times. You're pregnant? With a baby? And it's his? He put a baby in you? You're going to have his baby? An actual baby? He's going to be a dad again?! So goes the conversation for a good ten or so minutes, and suffice to say he's far from calm once the news finally does sink in. Given that the two of you had assumed that an angel and a mortal couldn't reproduce, this is more than an unexpected surprise, and Lucifer knows all too well how much of a fuss this will create from Hell's lowest ring all the way up to Heaven. That's to say nothing of how Charlie might take the news...

- Once the initial panic fades, after a solid hour or so, he gathers himself and focuses on setting a course of action. A very important decision needs to be made. He says it's up to you, but upon being asked what he'd like to do, the King of Hell surprises himself and answers without hesitation that he'd love to have this baby with you. He's surprised because he knows better than anyone that it will be challenging, but he can't deny how much he wants it regardless. Having Charlie was the greatest thing he'd ever done, and the thought of another little bundle makes his heart swell in ways he can barely describe, but ultimately he'll support whatever decision you make. Carrying a half-Archangel is no easy feat... Hearing that you want the same and intend to carry through is enough to make him lift you clear off the ground in a spinning airborne embrace, wings fluttering like a hummingbird as he breaks out into a celebratory musical number or two. He can't wait to be a dad all over again!

- If you thought he pampered you before, you were wrong. He doubles the amount of servants at your call, ensures there's always a physician available at a moment's notice, and hires a full team of chefs to cook whatever you might crave at any hour of the day. From beginning to end, he doesn't want you to want for anything, and the man knows a thing or two about spoiling, and he goes all out to ensure you're surrounded by comfort at all times. That's to say nothing of his own personal dedication to more or less worshiping your existence. Even the tiniest indication of pain or discomfort has him leaping to your assistance. Backrub? Footrub? Full body massage? You name it, he's quite happy to provide. If it wasn't such a cliche he'd be rather happy to feed you grapes from a golden platter. His efforts are borne from the deep sense of pride he feels every time he looks at you and thinks of how incredible it is that he's with you, that you're carrying his child, and that the two of you are bringing something quite wonderful and unique into existence. Said pride fully extends to the public view, where he doesn't hesitate to show you off and humbly brag to anyone that will listen about the news.

- You'll also find that as protective as he was before, he doesn't even hesitate to get his fangs out now, not that many in Hell are stupid enough to mess with the King's beloved. He expects you to be treated with the highest levels of respect, and if he can't accompany you somewhere, he'll insist on an armed escort to keep you safe. This fear isn't completely unfounded, as there are some willing to risk everything for an upper hand on Lucifer, but he's got ample experience keeping the opportunists at bay. He did the same when Lilith was expecting Charlie.

- Speaking of Charlie, the only thing that gives him any kind of hesitation is his fear that she might take the news poorly. Though she took your relationship well, what if she isn't thrilled about a younger sibling? With their relationship so recently repaired, he fears she might worry about being replaced or pushed aside, and he doesn't know how to reassure her that nothing will ever make him love her less. Thankfully, with her boundless kindness and eternally upbeat personality, the Princess of Hell puts his worries to rest as soon as she gets the news. In fact, she reacts much the same way her father did; a massive hug and a delighted musical number, albeit with far more happy sobbing. She promises through tears that she'll be the best big sister Hell has ever seen, and that she simply can't wait.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer imagine #lucifer x reader #lucifer fluff #lucifer headcanons #hazbin x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin imagine #hazbin fluff #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel imagine #pregnancy #charlie morningstar

[ncroissant]

I just read your Sub! Frances fic and OHMYGOD??? GORGEOUS. AMAZING. HOLY HELL THIS IS THE FIRST FIC THATS MADE ME FEEL THIS WAY I—A JOB MOST CERTAINLY WELL DONE 😭💕✨🙌

I was wondering if you were up to writing more of it? I had this idea for Sub! Frances where he’s a doppelgänger and reader is part of the DDD cleanup crew…except when Frances’s doppelgänger is sent over to them, they decide to initiate a so-called mandatory ‘procedure’ to ‘discipline him’ if you know what I mean…🤭🤭 maybe even throw in some overstim and mind break~

Buttt feel free to ignore this if you want to, no pressure :)

sub! doppelgänger francis mosses x d.d.d! gn! reader

summary: how the clean-up crew likes to deal with slutty doppelgängers

wc: 1.5k

content warning: nsfw, dub-con, spanking, ball play, mind-break, overstimulation, fingering, anal, cock can be seen as strap, cum play, dirty talk, nipple play

author’s note: hi guys! sorry for the wait, but thank u sm for 150 follows omg, u guys have been blowing up my blog ily all. thanks for the ask anon, i love this concept and i'm so happy u liked my first francis fic :') hope u enjoy this one too !! not proofread, minors please dni !!

the calls to the d.d.d. were slow today.

but when you finally got a call from the nearby apartment's security guard, you were quick to accept the job. what you weren't expecting was to find such a handsome man, awaiting his sentence, upon your arrival.

you soaked in the sight of him. his all too tight uniform and his dopey little hat that was a size too big, slipping over his brunette eyes. his sunken eye bags, long lashes and pleading expression.

the alarm was blaringly loud and the lights were blinding, but you still made your way over to the doppel, your breath fogging up with hazmat suit.

"i'm here for a mr. francis mosses?" you inquired, cautiously stepping closer to him. "is that you? or who you're impersonating, hm?" you tilted your head, driving him against the wall.

his eyebrows furrowed, back pressed flat against the wall in attempts to escape. he stayed silent, but you continued to stalk forward. "can't talk, huh?" you scoffed, shaking your head disappointedly.

your head turned to look at the aluminum sheet covering the security guard's window. you slipped your phone out of your pocket, dialing the security guard. "this might take a while. keep that window closed, yeah?"

you hung up, stuffing your phone away. your head quickly turned to look at francis with a glare. "turn around," you demanded, nodding your chin towards the wall.

"what?" the frown on francis' face deepened. you clicked up tongue, disappointed with his reaction. you gathered his wrists together, spinning him around and pressing his chest against the wall. his pants were so tight that you could see the outline of his balls.

"listen to me, slut," you growled, tightening the grip you had on his wrists. "when i tell you do something, you do it, yeah?" his back arched, rubbing the bulge of your cock against his ass.

"are we clear?" you glared down at him as he looked back at you with widened eyes.

"y-yes..." he shyly nodded with a huff.

you smiled at his obedience, moving back to create space between yourselves. "now, i know you've been a bad boy. messin' with the security guard, knowing you can't enter the building like this," you started, grabbing the fat of his ass.

he gasped, biting down on his lip to suppress the lewd sounds that were so desperately spilling out of his lips. "since you wanna be a brat. let me show you how we deal with bad boys like you." you spanked his ass roughly, kneading it gently afterwards.

"h-HNG!?" he panted when you slipped off his pants, exposing his bare ass. his cock twitched at the feeling of you pressing him against the brick wall, the ridges rubbing against his perky nipples.

"no underwear?" you chuckled, dragging your fingers down to fondle his balls. he squirmed in your gasp, little whimpers escaping his mouth.

he shook his head when he felt your thumb circling around the rim of his hole. "unnghhh...'s dirty down there, ooohh...!" your fingers slipped in so easily from the accumulation of sweat and slick, making him jolt at the thickness of your fingers.

"so deep, mmMNGH! y'keep hittin' that, hngh, s-spot..." he whined, leaning head back in bliss. the room was filled with the sound of francis' moans and the sloppy wet sounds of your fingers ramming into his hole.

you fucked your fingers into him, grazing them against his balls. and every time he got used to the thickness of your finger, you'd add another one to catch him off guard.

as much as he wanted to deny it, he was shamefully enjoyed the way your fingers pressed deep against his prostate. "ooOGHHH! m' g'na c-cum, HNGH! 'm c-cumming, cumming!" he whimpered, cum coating the wall.

his cum dripped onto his white uniform pants and rolled down the inner sides of his legs. he was shaking against you, slumping backwards into your arms.

"you think i'm gonna let you off the hook just 'cause you're cute, huh?" you shoved him deeper against the wall, the bumps flicking his nipples when you pulled him up. "who gave you permission to cum?"

his face paled as he shuddered at the look on your face. "'m sorry! needed t'cum s-so bad," he pleaded, shaking his head when you wrapped an arm around his tummy to arch his back more.

you dropped his wrists for him to ball his hands into fists against the wall to stabilize himself. "okay, be a good and count for me, then." he looked confused at what you meant then yelped when your hand came down on his ass.

"GHK!" he shrieked when you smacked his ass again.

"i'm not hearing any numbers, slut," you tsked, slapping his ass again. it was blooming pink, a stark contrast to the pale white earlier.

you spanked him again, prompting a moan from him. "hNGH! o-one, mnghh..." he huffed, he looked back at you with his cheek smushed against the wall.

you continued to torment his ass until it was bright red, throbbing when you brushed your hand over it. "you learn your lesson yet, or should we do five more, hm?" you cooed, rubbing the fat of his ass soothingly.

"n-no more, hnggh...learned my lesson," he begged, tears filling his eyes.

you laughed under your breath at his desperation, giving him a break. "alright, alright. quit your whining, needy boy." you caressed his cheek, wiping a tear from his eye. "c'mere."

you took him off the wall, leading him over to the aluminum covered window. he stood there in confusion, wondering if his punishment was already over. "are you letting me go now?" he furrowed his brows.

you laughed at his assumption. if only he could see what he looked like right now. his pants and underwear pooled at his ankles, his ass blooming red with cum splattered on his shirt with his nipples poking out.

the way he looked back at you with a flushed expression and tears lining his waterline made your cock throb in your pants. "i'm not letting you go for a long time, slut," you shook your head, unzipping your pants.

francis' heart thumped out of his chest at the sight of your bulge. "i'm not so sure how sound-proof this window is..." you stated, cock springing free from your underwear. "so unless you want the security guard to hear how much of a slut you are. i suggest you keep it down."

"m-mkay, i'll do my best," he nodded with a cute little pout on his lips. he looked so serious, wanting to impress you so badly.

"good boy," you stroked at your cock, inching closer to francis. "spread yourself open for me, yeah?"

francis' hands gripped at his ass cheeks, revealing his throbbing, dripping hole. his cheek was pressed against the glass of the window, looking at you for approval.

you slowly entered him, the tightness of his entrance making you grit your teeth. "hooHNGH! o-oh my god...haah," his mouth hung open, drool dripping down his lips.

he's never felt anything like this, nestled so deeply in his ass. the way you stuffed him so easily, kissing his prostate upon entry, made his cock twitch with pleasure.

"fuck. such a tight little thing, aren'tcha?" you grunted with a chuckle, you cock completely disappearing within him. "took me so well though, hm?"

you quickened your pace, thrusting into him with more ease. "n-nghhh! y-you're hitting that spot a-aghhhNGH, again..! 's too big, mmfph!"

you shoved your fingers into his mouth to silence him, rubbing your fingers against his tongue. "haaaaghnn! feelsh sho g-good, ahhnn..." he muffled out, even with your fingers filling his throat.

"told you to keep quiet," you grit your teeth, feeling him tighten up. "bratty boy isn't listenin' to me again. want me to stop?" you threatened, pulling out.

"n-no! k-keep fuh-ghh...f-fucking me, please! d-don't pull out, mnngh!" he begged, shaking his head furiously.

your tip teased at his entrance before fucking into him furiously. it's not like you could resist indulging him, especially with the expression he was making. eye rolled back, tongue sticking out with tears and drool spilling out.

he looked like a common whore, humping against you like a bitch in heat. "ooGHHK! r-right there! f-fuck, 'm close, hngh!" he nodded mindlessly.

your grip on his waist was bruising, as your free hand rubbed the buds over his shirt. "o-ooh, oh! c-cumming, c-cumming 'gain, h-HNGHHK!"

cum spilled into francis' hole, filling him up generously. his own cock was covering in cum as it had stained the window along with his fingerprints.

your fingers fucked the cum that was spilling out back into his hole as francis twitched in your hold. "feelin' alright, tiger?" you cooed, feigning innocence as if you hadn't just breeded his tight, little hole and filled him with your seed.

"u-uh-huh. wan' more...?" he nodded in a dazed, rutting his ass against your fingers. he cupped his chest, flicking his nipple with his thumb. "'again, ngh?"

the smile on your face was pure evil. he looked so desperate for your cock, your fingers weren't cutting it for him anymore. "fuckin' hell..." you cursed, tugging your cum-covering fingers out.

"again," you smirked, thrusting into him roughly.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #sub francis mosses #that's not my neighbour #thats not my neighbor #smut #x reader #ncrescent asks

[mikavlcs]

Rebels and Renegades

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: Becoming best friends with a sentient hand brings many much-needed changes to your life, the biggest being the very girl he arrived at Nevermore with.

Warnings: this is so stupid, reader is incredibly unserious, many attempts at comedy, TERRIBLE pacing, bad writing, cursing, this doesn’t correlate properly with the timeline of the show but idc

Word count: 6.6k (sorry, this got very out of hand...get it?)

Notes: this is trash but it’s fun so who cares. this is entirely for @clexa-is-forever aka thing’s biggest fan. despite my writer’s block, i still had fun writing this. hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

If someone told you at the beginning of the school year that your best friend would be a sentient disembodied limb, you would’ve laughed in their face.

Not because you thought it would be too ridiculous or nonsensical, but because in your mind, it was far too interesting for what Nevermore Academy had to offer.

See, you were initially excited to transfer to Nevermore. To get away from the shallow depths of normie public school and be around people like you. But alas, it was too good to be true—or, maybe, you had gotten your hopes up too high.

Because it turned out that fantastical mythical creatures like vampires, werewolves, and sirens actually weren’t too dissimilar from their normie counterparts. They didn’t care about excitement or adventure or fun, they cared about partying and drinking and dating.

This duality created an atmosphere of contradictions. There were people with literal snakes for hair but also those stupid cliques of popular kids that liked to pick on people for no reason. Werewolves transformed into energetic beasts and prowled the woods together every full moon, but students’ biggest concerns were whom they were gonna ask to the school dance.

It was all strange and supernatural yet shockingly normal. And extraordinarily boring.

The disappointment you felt upon this discovery was immeasurable. It appeared that no matter how far you ran, you could never escape the clutches of adolescent desires and drama.

But there was nowhere else for you to go. This was it, your parents told you that definitively. So you resigned yourself to your fate and settled into life at Nevermore.

Months passed at a snail’s pace. Around the middle of the semester, a new student transferred in. Because nothing of substance happens, she was the talk of the town for a solid two weeks before her scheduled arrival, but you didn’t care.

You would admit that after finally seeing her, your interest was piqued. She certainly fit the murderer vibe. With her pallid complexation and dark eyes, she looked straight out of a black & white horror film, even complete with a black uniform instead of the standard purple (which you were so jealous of).

Temptation pulled at your chest whenever you saw her, but you decided to leave her alone. This school had disappointed you enough, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to handle even more. The decision to keep your distance was made and instead, you let your imagination run wild without the probable barriers of reality to inhibit it. 

Little did you know that only one day after the new girl transferred in, she inadvertently changed the course of your life at Nevermore forever. 

Advanced Gorgon Sciences, your last class of the day, had just ended and you were wandering campus wondering what you were going to do with your free time. You were contemplating going into Jericho when something smacked your cheek.

Pausing, you glanced down and found the offending object to be a small pebble. You followed its rough trajectory up to a ledge on your left and saw something scurrying across it. Against, your nonexistent better judgment, you moved closer and…

You blinked once, then twice, narrowed your eyes.

It was a hand—literally just a hand, cut off at the wrist but still scuttling and scurrying around with no problem.

So, you were definitely losing your mind. Honestly, it was about damn time.

Having nothing better to do, you decided to lean into the madness and approach the hand. At the sound of your footsteps, it turned and…looked at you? You weren’t sure, but it acknowledged your presence with a friendly wave.

You waved back, a laugh bubbling up in your throat as you hoisted yourself up to sit on the ledge.

Once you were up, you saw that the hand was fiddling with a makeshift slingshot, struggling to simultaneously keep it upright while loading and aiming it. His plight was fairly obvious and considering his circumstance, you couldn’t help but feel for him.

Abandoning the slingshot, the hand crawled over to you and started tapping insistently. It took much more brain power than it ought to for you to realize that he was trying to speak to you.

“Sorry, I don’t understand…that,” you apologized with a grimace. But an idea came to mind a moment later. “Can you write?”

The hand gave you a thumbs up. You dug around your backpack and pulled out a notebook along with a pen, flipping it open to an empty page and slid it over, setting the pen down on top. He picked up the pen and got to work, pushing the notebook back toward you a minute later.

Curious, you looked at the messy scrawl below.

Sorry, was aiming for the guy behind you.

You nodded understandingly. “It’s fine. Could I ask why you’re launching pebbles at students?”

You waited once more as he scribbled his answer and peered down when he pushed the paper over.

For fun.

Again, you nodded. You could respect that.

“Well, do you mind if I join you?” you asked, nodding toward the slingshot. “I’d imagine it would be a lot easier to aim with an extra pair of hands. And the accompanying body,” you added awkwardly at the end, hoping it wouldn’t offend the little guy.

Thankfully it didn’t. He gave you an excited thumbs up, scuttling back over to the slingshot while you scooted over. While he loaded another pebble into the pouch, you scanned the area below for your next victim.

Your eye snagged on a vampire for no real reason other than the fact that he just kinda looked like an asshole.

You pointed to him below. “How about him?”

Thing gave you another thumbs up. Nodding, you held the slingshot in place while Thing drew the pebble back and let it fly.

The shriek that came from your victim almost made you blow your cover. You grabbed Thing and hurriedly crawled back to where you were both out of sight, barely containing your giggles. Once the coast was clear, you cracked, pitching forward with your laughter as Thing drummed his fingers against your arm in what you assumed was amusement.

“That was amazing!” You looked down at him, smirked. “Wanna do another one?”

He tapped your hand enthusiastically, making your smile widen.

Thus was the beginning of an amazing friendship. Well, amazing for you and Thing—not for the rest of Nevermore.

The two of you were a match made in hell. Together you brainstormed a plethora of good pranks to pull on unsuspecting students and teachers.

Putting spiders (fake or otherwise) in students’ lockers. Setting glitter traps on top of classroom doors so whichever unlucky soul walks through first gets showered in glitter. Slipping mentos into people’s sodas. Setting trip wires to watch people faceplant around campus and many more.

It was glorious. Your own personal reign of terror, even.

Principal Weems had her suspicions, but no matter how many times she tried to catch you in the act, you slipped through her fingers. And without proof, her hands were tied. So you and your companion were free to keep enjoying your schemes so long as you were discreet.

For the first time since you enrolled, days passed by in what felt like minutes, the personification of the saying time flies when you’re having fun.

Through it all, you often wondered where the little guy was when he wasn’t with you. You hoped that he wasn’t causing too much mischief without you. He was your partner in crime, after all.

Two weeks in, you decided to ask him at breakfast.

The two of you were at your usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. You were ranting about an upcoming Lycanthrope History test while Thing was launching the grapes you gave him to play with at nearby tables. After your rant, you finally gave in to your curiosity.

“So, what exactly are you doing at Nevermore? I know this place houses some strange students but, something tells me you’re not here to learn.”

He flicked a grape with precise aim, nailing a gorgon right on the forehead before giving you a series of taps. Your face scrunched in confusion.

“Babysitting? Babysitting who?”

Nothing could have prepared you for his answer.

“Wednesday Addams?!”

Your voice came out much louder than intended, turning a few heads around the cafeteria and making Thing jump. You didn’t care, plowing forward in your questioning.

“You’re ‘babysitting’ the school’s homicidal maniac?”

His stance straightened, his nonverbal tone somehow indignant as he corrected you.

You gave him a pointed look. “Attempted homicide isn’t much better, buddy.”

He seemed to contemplate flicking another grape, but seeing Miss Thornhill looking around, he chose not to. Instead, he drummed his fingers inquisitively at you, teasingly waggling his fingers at the end. You gave him another sharp look, insulted by his implication.

“Scared? What, no! This is amazing news,” you exclaimed. Then, an idea arose. “Hey, do you think she’d let us borrow any of her stuff for pranks?”

Thing mournfully shook his wrist. You let out a deep sigh, slumping over again. “Yeah, I guess I should’ve expected that answer.”

Wednesday didn’t really come up in conversation after that. You asked a few more times about her willingness to let you borrow her things, but after receiving the same answer, you gave up. Your paths had yet to cross, and you assumed that it would stay that way. But the universe seemed to have other plans.

The first time you formally met her was about a month after she transferred.

It was an appropriately cloudy day and you and Thing had just successfully completed a heist. You were in the Weathervane, both gushing over the fact that you had managed to steal fifteen scented lotions from Jericho’s local Bed, Bath & Body Works when a sharp voice interrupted you.

“So this is who you’ve been running off with these past few weeks.”

Both you and Thing flinched, looking up to see the Wednesday Addams staring down at you and your partner.

Offering a wave, you said, “Hey, Wednesday. Want a scented lotion?”

She ignored you completely. Her eyes barely scanned your figure before she was turning her full attention to Thing, her arms crossing over her chest in vindication.

“I knew you had to have an accomplice. You’re nowhere near nimble enough to properly set a trip wire by yourself.”

Thing slumped, obviously disheartened by the statement, but before you could defend his honor, your mind caught on something else.

“Wait…” You looked over at Thing, offended. “Have you been taking full credit for our pranks this entire time?”

Sheepish, Thing bowed, giving your hand an apologetic pat. You moved it away, crossing your own arms over your chest.

“Since this is your first offense, I’ll forgive you. But do it again and I’m keeping all of the profits from our future heists, got it?”

Thing jumped in alarm, tapping urgently. You smiled. “Good.”

Wednesday looked between you both, clearly unimpressed. You decided to take your shot again.

“You know, the lotion offer still stands.” You rifled through the lotions, taking note of their scents, and glanced back up with an apologetic look. “Though, we don’t have one that smells like stage 4 human decomposition, sorry.”

Again, she just stared blankly. You swore you saw her eye twitch but still, she said nothing and glared at Thing.

“Be back at the dorm by 7.”

With that, she turned and marched out of the café, leaving everyone in her path to fearfully stumble out of her way. Both of you watched, rapt, as she slammed the café door open and nearly nailed an approaching customer in the face.

Once she was out of sight, you turned to Thing. “Y’know, I think that went well, buddy.”

Thing said nothing.

You thought that would be the end of it, and honestly, you would’ve been fine if it had been. You made a good first impression and she now knew you existed. A double win!

But again, it seemed that someone had other plans—though this time it wasn’t the universe, but Thing.

Now that you and Wednesday had been semi-acquainted, Thing began inviting you to their dorm for hangouts frequently (because it was “his dorm too” …you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise). This set a few things in motion.

First, you met Wednesday’s roommate, Enid.

Enid was nice. A little hyper, like she was on a permanent sugar rush, but sweet, nonetheless. She gave you free manicures and skincare advice, and even let you borrow some things for pranks, so you hadn’t a single bad thing to say about her.

Second, you found out that you were very bad at scaling buildings.

Due to both curfew and Wednesday’s usual disapproval of your presence, Thing insisted on smuggling you in. By throwing a rope down to your balcony for you to climb. And…let’s just say that it’s a miracle you even survived the first time.

And finally, most importantly, you and Wednesday began to grow closer.

Only by about a centimeter, but progress was progress. And through sheer willpower and repeated exposure, you wormed your way into the tolerance stage, which is farther than most people who came into contact with Wednesday got, so you were proud.

She wasn’t warmer per se, but the sight of you in her dorm was no longer met with a throwing knife, just a death glare and some tentative (mostly one-sided) conversation if she was in a good mood. It was a big win.

Now that she wasn’t orchestrating any attempts on your life, you grew…not protective, but defensive of her, and Enid for that matter. Enid was your friend and Wednesday was…Wednesday. Willingly or not, they were part of your small circle.

So when a werewolf insulted Wednesday right to her face the day before the Poe Cup, well who could blame you for getting a little revenge?

You overheard him call Wednesday a frigid bitch, and he was right, but he didn’t have to say it like it was a bad thing. In retaliation, you and Thing gave him a special surprise involving shampoo and some of Enid’s hair dye that you were very excited to see the next day.

And it didn’t disappoint. Seeing the flash of bright pink amongst the Furs, and a matching flush of embarrassment that was nearly the same color was the highlight of your day.

At least it was until the Black Cats emerged from their tents.

Given your positioning, you were only able to see them once they started climbing into their canoe, and needless to say that the team’s roster shocked you. There were a few girls you didn’t recognize up front, then Enid and, as her co-pilot in the back, Wednesday.

Your jaw dropped. Because not only was she competing in the competition, but she was also wearing a skintight black catsuit, complete with ears and a tail.

The laugh you let out was so loud that it startled the surrounding crowd. You felt something poking your leg, and looking down, you found Thing standing by your feet. You bent down, glancing over to the Black Cat’s boat.

“Hey, you helping out Wednesday and Enid?”

He bowed in confirmation. Nodding, you stuck out a hand.

“Punch at least one siren for me, alright bud?”

He shook your hand firmly, a promise to fulfill your wish, and crawled off to the boat.

The event itself was rather dull. With the way Enid explained it, you were expecting something a bit more grandiose, but in reality, it was just standing around and watching for boats. Boring.

But hey, it gave you a half-day of classes, so who were you to complain?

The results though, were much more interesting.

For the first time in decades, the trophy went to Ophelia Hall. You were happy, not because you had any buried school spirit, but because you knew how much Enid wanted this. Seeing the fish get knocked down a peg was a nice bonus.

Afterward, you pushed through the crowd to try and find Enid so you could personally congratulate her, but before you could spot her, you bumped into her co-pilot. Literally.

Blindly, you steadied the smaller girl by the shoulders, a sorry on the tip of your tongue, but it got swallowed down as you were crudely reminded of her current state of dress. You tore your eyes from her outfit and dropped your hands back to your side, meeting her glare with what you prayed was a straight face.

“Hey, Wends. Congrats on the win! Love the outfit by the way,” you said, trying your absolute hardest not to crack a smile. The large ears were making that exceptionally hard, however.

She scowled. “Don’t call me that and for your information, I was forced to wear this.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything without laughing. Thankfully, it seemed Wednesday wasn’t finished speaking anyway.

“I noticed that werewolf’s hair is now a rather putrid shade of pink,” she said. “Did you perhaps have something to do with that?”

Once again, you found yourself unsuccessfully fighting off a smile. “I can neither confirm nor deny your suspicions. But it suits him, don’t you think?”

Before she could respond, a soaking wet Thing pulled on your pant leg and excitedly began recounting what happened. You bent down again, nodding along with his story, and beamed at him once he finished.

“Right in the eye?” you reiterated, and Thing confirmed. “That’s awesome. I knew I could count on you.” You gave him a quick high five then scooped him up, drying him off on your uniform and setting him on your shoulder.

You stood back up and saw that Wednesday was still there, staring at you so intently that you were sure she was somehow looking straight through you.

Cocking your head to the side, you went to ask if she was alright, but that must’ve knocked her from her stupor because, without another word, she spun on her heel and walked off, leaving you to stare at the spot she just occupied, thoroughly bewildered.

“That was weird,” you commented. Thing gave an agreeing pat.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t question her about it since you didn’t get the chance to speak with her again until exactly three days later.

It was just after dinner. Thing invited you over to help prepare a new scheme, and who were you to say no to the little guy?

Enid was visiting Yoko in the infirmary and Wednesday was nowhere to be seen, so it was just you and Thing, sitting by the window hard at work.

You tied the water balloon in your hand and held it in front of you, giving it a contemplative look. “You’re sure these will only give them bad rashes, right?”

The only response you received was a shrug, which was good enough for you, so you picked up the next one and got to filling it up. Not one to work in silence, you voiced a thought you’d been holding in for a while.

“So, do you breathe? Like, would be able to drown if you stayed under the water for too long?”

Thing shook his wrist matter of factly. You gasped.

“That’s so cool.” The flustered thuds you heard after made you chuckle.

Satisfied, you went back to filling balloons, but your head popped up only a minute later, another burning question on your mind. “If you can’t eat or drink, then what physically sustains you to keep you alive?”

Without missing a beat, Thing tapped out his answer.

“The misery of others?” You snorted. “Yeah, I guess that tracks.”

Conversation lapsed into quiet as you both focused on your tasks, and your mind wandered.

You wondered where Wednesday was. The hour just after dinner was her designated writing hour, and it was very unusual for her to be missing it.

You hoped that she’d be back soon, even if she only glared at you the rest of the night. Just seeing her would be enough to satisfy you.

Because in a somewhat cruel twist of irony, you were now falling victim to the very same feelings you mocked others for getting caught up in, and even more brutal was the fact that you didn’t mind all too much. Mostly because it was Wednesday.

Now, you were no poet or writer. You weren’t going to wax poetic and spew a thousand grandiose metaphors about how her eyes resembled that of a starless sky, no.

Wednesday was really pretty and genuinely interesting, and she looked at you like a predator wanting to tear apart its prey. And really, that’s all it took for you to dive right off that cliff’s edge into infatuation.

There was a certain excitement in knowing that she could dismember you with surgical precision if you ever went just a little too far, an irresistible thrill to be found in constantly toeing that line. Like walking a tightrope with life and death teetering on a knife’s edge—the perfect counterbalance to the endless loop of monotonous boredom your life had seemingly fallen into before her and Thing’s arrival.

The sound of the door opening interrupted your train of thought, and you whipped your head just in time to see Wednesday stride in with a book cradled in her arms and her usual annoyed expression adorning her features.

You perked up, and out the corner of your eye, you saw Thing do the same.

“Hey! How’s Nevermore’s resident tiny terror doing today?”

“Call me that again and I will disembowel you,” came her cheerful reply. You snorted.

“Uh-huh.” You finished tying the last balloon and looked back up, seeing Wednesday eyeing your prep work with distaste.

“Are those water balloons?” she asked, clearly unimpressed.

“Yep. They’re filled with holy water so we can throw them at the vampires who were teasing Enid last week for not being able to shift.” You grinned. Wednesday’s eyes widened a fraction.

“That’s insane,” she commented. Then after a beat, “Make sure to film it on your cellular device so I can watch as well.

“Of course,” you assured her, giving a dramatic bow as well. She rolled her eyes, and you watched her resign to her desk. Unable to contain your curiosity, you piped back up, “So what took you so long? I was expecting you to come in and kick me out hours ago.”

Her reply was instantaneous. “I discovered a secret passageway in the school, committed theft, and became the target of an attempted kidnapping.”

A twinge of jealousy pierced your gut. How come she always got to do the fun stuff? You quickly shook it off, focusing on the first thing she said.

“A secret passageway?” you asked, already thinking of ways to possibly utilize the space for you and Thing.

“Yes, I solved a riddle and uncovered a passageway hidden behind the Edgar Allen Poe statue in the quad.”

The Edgar Allen Poe statue… Recognition sparked, and the pieces slotted together, some of your prior jealousy abating.

“Ohh, you got kidnapped in the Nightshade’s Library?”

Finally, she looked at you, gaze so sharp it could’ve cut you in two. “How do you know about that?”

You and Thing shared an unsubtle sideways glance.

“Uh—”

“So what fingers do you do it with? Thumb and ring finger or thumb and middle finger?”

The pressing question was delivered in a whisper. It was late—at least an hour after lights out, but Thing promised to teach you how to snap before he left for his dorm.

So to avoid being caught, you and the appendage were tucked into the corner of a small hall that branched off from the quad. You were hunched against a tall Edgar Allen Poe statue while your companion stood next to you.

Thing waggled his fingers and pointedly put his thumb against his middle finger. You nodded and copied his movements, rubbing the fingers together to get a feel for it.

“So I just…”

You pressed the fingers together and made the snapping motion a few times in quick succession, beaming up at him when you managed to produce a few low sounds.

Suddenly, a deep rumble emanated from the ground beneath you as the statue you were seated on began to shift. You leapt to your feet, quickly grabbing Thing and placing him on your shoulder. You both watched, baffled, as the statue moved to reveal a long winding staircase.

Taking in a breath, you shared a look with Thing then looked back to the open pathway.

“Holy shit!”

“No reason,” you said far too quickly to be believable. Before she could question you further, you cleared your throat and moved on. “Did you have fun?”

“No. They were imbeciles that didn’t even know the basics of the art of abduction. It was pitiful.”

You frowned. “Oh. Sorry about that. I hope the next one is better.”

Wednesday shot you a strange look, studying you carefully before mumbling out a barely audible thank you, and turning back to her desk.

Since you were finished with the balloons, you slumped back against the window. There was nothing to do, so you couldn’t be blamed for the way your eyes drifted back to Wednesday’s hunched form. Nosiness tugged at you. You wanted to know more about what she stole and why, and a glance at Thing told you that he did too.

Extending your arm for him to climb, you waited until he rested securely on your shoulder before heading to Wednesday’s desk to see what she was up to.

Lying flat on the wood before her was the book, opened to an illustration. On the left page was what looked to be a pilgrim extending a staff toward the figure on the right, who somewhat resembled Wednesday. You squinted. Scratch that, the girl on the right looked exactly like Wednesday.

“Is this what you stole?”

“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t look over my shoulder like that.”

Her words went in one ear and out the other, your mind too busy trying to decipher the meaning of the drawing to actually listen. Finally, the identity of the mystery pilgrim clicked, and you asked, “Why’d someone draw you in a picture with Crackstone?”

Her head whipped over to you, all complaints of you being there gone. “You know who this is?”

“Yeah,” you answered, “Joseph Crackstone. He’s like, Jericho’s chief colonizer. Founded the whole town or something.”

She didn’t respond, seeming to take in the information, but you didn’t want the conversation to die quite yet, so you carried on.

“Outreach Day is next week, are you excited? I, for one, am pumped to do menial work for no pay.”

“No, I’m not,” she said, then appeared to rethink her answer. “Actually yes, but not because of the forced child labor. I already have plans to further my investigation in Jericho.”

You perked up, leaning forward to try and catch her eyes. “Can I come?”

She didn’t even bother looking back at you when she answered, hard and firm.

“No.”

-

“Thanks for letting me come along, Wends!”

Wednesday clenched her jaw, expelling a sharp breath through her nose. This was the third time you’d said that in the past four hours, and while she was able to ignore the other two, the addition of that stupid nickname made holding herself back a third time impossible.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? And you’re only here because someone,” she sent Thing a murderous glare, “refused to cooperate without your agonizing presence.”

Your eyes widened, darting over to the hand resting on your shoulder. “Really?”

Thing gave a shy wave. A wide smile spread across your cheeks in response.

“Well thanks for advocating for me, bud. It means a lot,” you said with a hand over your heart, sounding far too cheerful for someone that just chased a dangerous monster.

Wednesday didn’t bother dignifying you with any more responses, turning back to the woods ahead. But that got her thinking.

Why had she let you come anyways?

There was no good reason that came to mind. You were insufferable. The human embodiment of vexation and foolishness and petulance. You were, in essence, all the traits she disliked in the general human race given physical form.

And yet, she had allowed you to come along.

Yes, Thing asked her time and time again to permit your presence, but instead of threatening his life like she should have done, she gave in with the silent promise of revenge.

It made no sense. You pushed boundaries, disobeyed orders, and disregarded her threats and insults with a garish smile like they were no more than a joke heard in passing.

And only now did she realize that she found it far less irritating than she did when she first met you.

The answer to why was unclear, but Wednesday wasn’t sure if that was because she was genuinely unsure of the reasoning behind her decision or because she didn’t want to figure it out.

Your annoying voice thankfully halted her mind’s trajectory.

“Of course, you’re my favorite Addams. You’re my best friend, the only other five-fingered appendage I’ll ever need in my life. Plus, Wednesday hates me so there’s no competition.”

Wednesday was once again stunned by the inane conversations you and Thing have on a daily basis. Some of the talks she’d overheard in the past months could be unironically described as mind-numbing.

Deciding to have some fun to pass the time, she turned to fully face you, running her eyes over your form before speaking.

“I don’t hate you.”

She watched your eyes go wide and you looked at her with some odd form of hope. The corners of her lips twitched.

“I despise you. There’s a difference.”

Your head dropped exaggeratedly, but when you looked up again there was a smile on your face, making any notion of hers disappear.

She couldn’t stand that—the way you were never put off by anything she had to say.

Enid had the same tendency to shrug off her threats, but even she was unnerved when she first met Wednesday. But not you. Wednesday couldn’t think of a single time when anything she said, threat or otherwise, made you uncomfortable or fearful, and there was seldom anything that got under her skin more.

“That was mean, Wednesday. Really mean.” She noticed Thing say something on your shoulder and you gave a playful gasp in response. “Don’t laugh, Thing. That wasn’t funny,” you said, even though you were giggling yourself.

At the sight and sound of your laughter, something strange happened. Something combusted within her, and the flames spread, licking her sternum with an uncomfortable intensity. Like someone crudely lit a match and let it fall inside of her chest, allowing the fire to wreak havoc on her insides. It was unpleasant.

Even more unpleasant was the knowledge that this was not the first time this had happened. And that was but another in the long list of reasons why she shouldn’t have permitted your presence today.

She faced forward abruptly and kept walking, but you entered her peripheral moments later, no doubt ready to bother her with something.

As always, she was proven correct. “Hey, so you said that Crackstone was in that vision with your ancestor, right? And he killed a bunch of outcasts?”

“Correct.”

That mischievous smile she had come to recognize spread across your face, pulling your lips up at a slightly uneven angle.

“What do you say we get a little revenge?”

“And how exactly do you propose we get revenge on a pilgrim that died centuries ago?” she inquired skeptically.

You hummed. “Undecided but you go on ahead and just let the masterminds cook for a bit. I promise we’ll come up with something great.”

You and Thing flashed her a simultaneous thumbs-up, to which she just blinked. Not needing to be told twice, she started walking again, leaving you both to linger behind. Once there was a sufficient distance between you and her, she slowed slightly.

Though she had just made a vital discovery for her case, she figured this brief period of quiet would be better spent unpacking that persistent internal conflagration that flared whenever you were near.

Deigning to use her tried and true investigative process, she tried to start from the beginning, to gather all the information she had and prepare it for analysis, but she immediately got lost because truthfully, she couldn’t pinpoint the start of your assimilation into her daily routine.

Her…acquaintanceship with you made little sense, even to her. Especially to her. The same could also be said about her budding friendship? with Enid, but that was easier to parse.

Enid was her roommate; someone she quite literally couldn’t avoid since they lived together. But you weren’t. You were Thing’s friend, sure, but that didn’t answer the question of why Wednesday was becoming entangled with you as well.

However, looking at it from a logical perspective, it somewhat made sense.

A mutual penchant for mischief and practical jokes is what drew you and Thing together. In that same vein, she supposed that your insatiable appetite for adventure and her unquenchable thirst for triumph put you both on a collision course that neither of you could prevent. Especially in such a creatively stagnant climate as Nevermore.

A rebel and a renegade—two of a kind. You understood her and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she understood you.

She just didn’t know how to interpret the unexpected side effects that came with that mutual understanding.

(That was a lie, she realized. Somewhere deep down she knew, but she didn’t want it to mean what she thought it might. After all, she couldn’t possibly be letting someone like you turn her into an apostate to her own beliefs and morals…right?

She thought back to what she said to her mother on her first day, how hypocritical her words looked in the face of this dilemma. God, how pitiful of a circumstance she found herself in.)

Either way, Wednesday had allowed the sparks to ignite, and she knew that any chance she had of tempering the subsequent wildfire it caused was lessening with every moment she knowingly spent with you in her space.

Part of her didn’t want to anyway.

Approaching voices behind her caught her attention. Focusing on the present once more, she listened in.

“That’s an awesome idea, right?” she heard you say lowly.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. Everything was either cool, awesome, or amazing to you. She desperately needed to expand your vocabulary if you were going to be sticking around. For her sanity.

Wet footsteps neared, and you ran ahead of Wednesday, turning to face her with a demeanor resembling that of an excitable puppy. She sped up her pace, but you matched it, even while walking backward.

“Ok, Wednesday, plan secured. You know what I need?”

“A thesaurus?”

You blinked, brows furrowed, then shrugged. “Yeah, probably but I was actually gonna say that I need gasoline, and matches.”

“Well, there’s a hardware store a block down from the Weathervane, you could get gasoline from there. I have the matches covered.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrow quirked, a grin appearing along with it. “You have matches on you?”

“Of course. I carry a box with me everywhere I go.”

Your smile widened.

Wednesday ignored the flames ravaging her organs and asked, “Are you going to tell me what this ‘plan’ is?”

“And ruin the surprise? No. All I’m gonna say is that you should have another song prepared for the unveiling.”

She narrowly avoided rolling her eyes again. Given the materials you needed, Wednesday had a good idea of what you were planning anyway, and thankfully, she had just the song in mind.

The three of you parted ways as you reentered the town proper, you and Thing running off to gather supplies, and Wednesday, after handing her matches over, headed into the square to prepare her cello.

Unsurprisingly, she was the first person there. She sat in the seat by her cello, languidly checking its strings more out of a need for something to do than because she needed to. Her cello was always perfectly tuned.

It didn’t take very long for you to follow, running into the square with a canister of gasoline and a bag of what looked to be gunpowder. She heard a low “let’s blow this fucker back to hell, Thing” before you split up, Thing pouring the gasoline in the base of the statue while you created a trail of black powder from the statue to behind the bleachers.

Wednesday watched you, the familiar feeling of being proven right tugging her lips upward. If nothing else, your flair for the dramatic was commendable.

You both finished and took refuge behind the bleachers just as people started filing in for the ceremony. As the normie high school band set up behind her, she took note of how nobody looked particularly enthused to be here (besides Enid, who would somehow find a way to be excited to watch paint dry).  

Soon, the ceremony was underway, and it was as underwhelming as Wednesday expected it to be. Just a plethora of fake smiles, stale claps, and off-key notes from the laughingstock of a “band” performing with her.

An explosion might not even be enough to resuscitate the audience at this point.

Once the fountain was turned on, Wednesday sent a sideways glance to you and you nodded, signaling something to Thing on the ground below. A trail of smoke and the telltale sound of burning gunpowder followed and Wednesday felt her dead heart begin to pick up pace at the thought of the coming anarchy.

Finally, the looming bronze figure burst into a brilliant ball of flame, the sound of the blast washing away the wretched off-key notes of the incompetent band behind her.

As the panic began to set in, her fingers moved on their own, relishing the familiar feel of the aching, discordant cords of Vivaldi’s Winter.

In moments, Jericho’s empty streets were flooded with people running in terror as sirens wailed in the distance. The harmonious screams that erupted from both outcasts and normies alike were almost more pleasant to her ears than the song that she was playing.

Principal Weems glared at her from afar, eyes narrowed in brewing suspicion, and Wednesday stared right back, lips coiling into a poisonous smile.

Tearing her eyes away from the principal, she peered through the haze of the smoke toward the bleachers. You were watching her with wide, awestruck eyes and a smile. You only looked away briefly to give Thing a fist bump before turning back toward her, but her gaze never faltered from you. Even with all of the glorious chaos happening around her.

That horrible, detestable feeling in her chest returned with a vengeance, blazing brighter than the raging fire to her right. But in this moment, she welcomed it, let it fuel her as the music reached its climax.

As the warm orange glow of the flames reflected off the raw excitement and amazement in your eyes and her treacherous song came to its end, Wednesday recognized that perhaps neither hatred nor disdain was quite the right word to describe how she felt for you after all.

And perhaps becoming a heretic and a hypocrite wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world after all (though it would certainly be close). 

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega #quality is 2/10 but fun factor is 9/10 #at least for me idk

[bloodynereid]

Can I request Jordan Li x reader dating headcanons where reader is Andre’s twin sister who’s ability is to covert energy into physical things such as force fields and blasts? Take like, Gwen from Ben 10 for example

Psych Classes & Lakes | headcanons

pairing: jordan li x fem! reader

tw: alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, bad parents, nothing else really

description: the evolution of your relationship with jordan from your first meeting to beyond God U.

a/n: hii once again apologies for taking so long to write this. also sry for this being kind of short - i hope you enjoy either way <333 lmk ur thoughts and my requests are open atm even if i may take a while to get to them lol.

You grew up in the spotlight alongside Andre. You were the Wonder Twins as Vought had decided to dub you, which was horribly cheesy but worked for their marketing scheme somehow. The relationship between you and Andre was never strained or hurt because you lived your lives as Polarity’s children. Mostly you just got into arguments whenever Andre hid his weed from you.

Even if Andre had inherited his powers from your father you got something you considered was way better. You had the ability to manipulate matter into force fields, blasts and had advanced healing. Which is what initially got you to bond with Jordan.

It was around the first month of God U when you first met Jordan in a supe psych class, something that you had always found fascinating.

You both had instantly connected about your love of psychology and the similarity of your powers. You introduced them to the little friend group you and Andre had started to create and they fit in seamlessly.

Over the course of freshman year you very much fell for Jordan - who wouldn’t? And thankfully they also feel for you. Your brother and the rest of your friends constantly teased the two of you to make a move, something that didn’t happen until the summer before sophomore year.

You had invited Jordan over to your family’s lake house - because obviously Polarity would have a lake house, and you spent the entirety of a month lounging around in the hot sun and just talking.

It was a particularly hot and sticky summer night when you and Jordan were lying on the deck sipping from one of the many bottles that your dad had stashed up here for fancy parties.

Bourbon must have been the thing to give you enough courage to finally just kiss Jordan or maybe it was the way that the moonlight highlighted their features just right.

Your first kiss was a sort of clumsy affair but your second kiss… oh that was the kind of thing that the poets wrote about.

The relationship between the two of you only continued to blossom during your sophomore year and the summer after. Jordan organized little dates which honestly made you question why they ever thought of themselves as not being romantic.

Meeting the parents was another matter… one that had actually caused one of your first big fights as a couple. In the end your dad ended up being incredibly supportive of the two of you but… Jordan’s parents were a different matter. Let’s just say that you spent the next few days after that encounter binging random CW shows in bed together.

Andre was your relationship’s biggest fan. When you told him about him he just laughed and said that it was about time because you almost made him lose a bet against Cate.

You and Jordan may have had your ups and downs but you made it through the chaos of God U together and somehow managed to score big city contracts. You were each other’s rock. You were there through everything for Jordan and they did the same for you.

Maybe happy endings for supes actually happened, you and Jordan were an example of that.

ahhh that was fun to write - i should do headcanons more often <3

#gen v #gen v fanfic #gen v amazon #gen v spoilers #andre anderson #jordan li #marie moreau #luke riordan #golden boy #the boys #the boys fanfic #the boys tv #gen v tv #maria writes #the boys series #the boys amazon #jordan li x reader #jordan x reader #gen v x reader #jordan li x you #jordan li x y/n

[python333]

déjà vu — python333

— — — —

synopsis you and ghost are more similar than the two of you realized.

relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 2.88k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [call sign/code name], ghost's backstory [yes that is a warning within itself], kind of badly written.

note holy shitttttt i'm so sorry i haven't posted in two months. to everyone who is disappointed this isn't a req they submitted—i am very sorry but i have like. no motivation. please take this small fic as a peace offering after being silent for two months. also yes i said alej fic but i only had motivation to write for ghost LMAO

“So…” Ghost can hear Price next to him, creating an echo as he speaks through his earpiece, “Doesn’t it get hot, always wearing that mask?” 

“Not when it’s made of the right materials,” Your voice crackles through, the wind blowing by slightly distorting your voice, “It’s also winter, captain, so no, it doesn’t get hot.” 

The corners of Ghost’s lips twitch upwards when you answer, but he otherwise doesn’t say or do anything, simply leaning against the wall parallel to Price. For you, maybe your mask doesn’t get hot, but his certainly does—though, he doesn’t voice that, simply listening. 

“Oh really?” Price hums, looking around the corner of the wall he’s leaned up against, spotting a few enemy soldiers walking by without a clue of who they’re in the presence of, “What’s yours made of, then?” 

“Polyester,” You answer. 

From what Ghost understands, you wear a mask for the same reason as him—anonymity. As much as he can respect that and understand the want to remain anonymous, he can’t help but wonder why you would want that. Is it for reasons similar to why he wears his? Have you gone through things similar to what he’s gone through? Did a fellow SAS soldier also murder your entire family and attempt to pin it on you, to which you responded by killing him, stealing his dog tags, and burning your own house down? He had many questions, but didn’t ask any. 

He doesn’t think you’d answer them, anyway. He certainly wouldn’t. He’d maybe try to divert the conversation with a bad dad joke, or simply not dignify the question with a response, anything but an actual answer. He strangely expects the same of you. 

He vaguely remembers a conversation he had with Price when you first joined maybe two months ago, specifically a comment Price had made about your file; “I had the same conversation with Laswell about their file that I did when I first got yours. She said the same thing when she saw their file, too, word for word.”

It turned out that they had the exact same exchange that they did when they saw Ghost’s file, verbatim. Laswell had pointed out that you had no picture, and Price said, “Never.” Ever since then, Ghost has felt an inexplicable connection to you, despite not having talked to you that much. 

He’ll admit, he tried to initiate a conversation with you more often than he did with the others when he first met them. Maybe one or two times a day, he’d find you and make small talk, something that made his skin crawl with discomfort but something he still forced himself to do, just to try and make sense of the invisible line that seemed to tie you both together. 

This small talk started off as anything from a question about the weather—yes, Ghost asked about the weather, unfortunately for the both of you considering how awkward and stilted that short conversation was—to asking about training and skills. He didn’t normally initiate conversations with anyone else, he was typically the one that was walked up to and barely even had to carry any conversations he was in. 

Every conversation the two of you had always ended the same way, though; with you cutting it short the moment it got anywhere near your personal life, or even just your life outside of being a part of the 141, and walking off elsewhere. Ghost could see the tiniest bit of himself in you everytime you did that, and an annoying voice in the back of his mind always asked, Was I always that much of a hardass? … Am I that much of a hardass?

“Ghost,” Price’s voice snaps Ghost out of his train of thought and he grunts, looking over at Price. The man in question nods his head towards the now clear path to the building they needed to get into, and Ghost nodded back, taking his SMG out of the sling and moving out of the small alleyway they’d camped in, following after Price. 

They quickly rush over to the building, the doors thankfully unlocked and the soldiers guarding it stupid enough to not be right beside the front doors, and lock the doors behind them once they’re in. 

“Are you guys in?” You ask, the wind no longer distorting your voice, the background of your audio now relatively silent except for your faint breathing. 

“Yeah,” Price replies, the darkness of the building making him squint as he scans the walls for some sort of light switch, “Anyone notice we got in?”

“Not that I can see, no,” You answer, your sigh audible through the comms, “They’re pretty far from the building, actually.” 

“Perfect,” Price hums, patting his hand along the wall for a moment before finding a large lever. He hesitates to pull it, and ultimately decides against it, deeming it too risky. Instead, he searches his tactical vest and goes through a few large pockets that sit around his lower midriff before finding a relatively small flashlight. 

He presses the button on the end of the handle with a small click, and the flashlight flickers for a moment before the light becomes consistent and a small buzz begins to sound. Price looks around for a second, scanning the area for any immediate threats, and motions for Ghost to follow him. 

“See anything?” You ask curiously, some rustling heard on your end. Ghost looks around for a second, footsteps echoing eerily through the building. 

“Nothing important,” He replies, voice quiet, “Just dust and old furniture.” 

“His office is just down there,” Price interjects, nodding towards the hall to their left, making Ghost look in that same direction, “I’ll head down there, you stay here, let me know if anyone’s coming.” 

The echo from Price talking to Ghost both through comms and being right beside him, as well as the echo from being in such a large room, starts to irritate Ghost. He rolls his shoulders and puts his gun back in the sling, looking back at Price.

“Turn off your comms,” His suggestion sounds more like a command, but he’s sure Price understands it’s more of a request than anything else, “You’re echoing. If anything happens, I can just talk to you without them.” 

Price pauses before nodding, and pressing the small button on his earpiece to turn off his mic, and the piece entirely. He trusts Ghost wholeheartedly, and it shows. He takes one last look around before walking towards the office he pointed out. 

The office belonged to the man who had stolen vital intel from the 141—not intelligence on the task force itself, but rather a separate team that had recently allied themselves with the task force. They couldn’t risk that data being taken, as it would not only expose the other team, but several other similar teams and task forces. 

Ghost waits until Price is actually in the hall before speaking again, “You still there, [c/n]?” 

“Yeah,” You answer almost immediately, “Need something?” 

“No,” Ghost hums, leaning against the wall behind him, “Just wanted to talk.” 

“Please don’t ask me about the weather again,” You sigh, almost exasperated, “Or about how my training is going, or about how my CO is, or—” 

“I’m not,” Ghost interrupts you, not sure whether to laugh or cry at your examples of past conversations. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” He says, before asking, “How long were you apart of the army, before joining here?” 

“Before the 141?” You pause, thinking for a moment, “Sounds kind of personal.” 

“You don’t have to answer,” Ghost offers, voice almost reassuring, “Just curious.” 

“Aren’t you always,” You mutter, a comment Ghost promptly ignores, before you properly answer, “Just a year. Maybe a year and a half.” 

“American army, right?”

“Mhm,” You hum, “Would you believe me if I said we sang Yankee Doodle before going on any missions?”

“Oh, sure I would,” Ghost chuckles, before countering, “Would you believe me if I said that song was made to mock Americans?” 

“I’m not sure if I should be offended that you believe that,” You say, a lighter lilt to your voice as you do compared to a few moments ago, “But yes, I believe you. I think that almost every American has reclaimed it as one of the most patriotic songs, though.” 

“Almost every American?” Ghost questions, growing more amused as the conversation goes on. It confuses him, making him wonder why he’s so easily drawn into conversations with you, no matter how small or dry. 

“I’m sure there’s some here and there that don’t like it,” You elaborate, “But I haven’t met any. Not yet.” 

“Alright,” Ghost nods even though you can’t see him, before asking another question, “What branch?” 

“The Navy,” You answer, now without questioning Ghost which brings him a strange sense of relief, “I flew planes around and stuff. Didn’t really like it, though.” 

“Oh yeah?” Ghost sounds more interested now, “Why not?” 

“The soldiers there aren’t the best people to be around,” You hum, the sounds of you moving audible, “One mention of any sort of mental issues, even if it’s just something like feeling anxious or being sleep deprived, and suddenly everyone’s on your ass pressuring you to be better or just… being weird about it. It gets draining after a while.” 

“I bet,” Ghost murmurs, “Is that why you left?” 

“Partially,” You answer honestly, “Half of it was that, the other half was that I just didn’t like flying planes. I was also eighteen and couldn’t really control my impulsive thoughts, so a majority of the time I was fighting myself trying not to crash the plane on purpose.” 

“Makes sense,” Ghost considers what you said for a moment, before his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he asks, “Isn’t the enlistment age for the Navy nineteen?” 

“It is,” You assure him, “I was an exception, ‘cause I was a month or two away from turning nineteen.” 

“Hm,” Ghost hums, “And you’re twenty now?” 

“Twenty, almost twenty-one,” You confirm. 

“Did you wear the mask back then?” Ghost asks, praying that the question isn’t too personal to the point where you stop responding. He’s been dying to ask the question, always worrying whether or not it was too personal—it was pretty personal, to be fair, but he wasn’t used to worrying this much over another soldier, much less one he only met two months ago. Sure, you both wore a mask and remained somewhat anonymous, but that didn’t mean you two were automatically best friends who braided each other’s hair. 

“...” You don’t respond for a moment, making Ghost’s worry increase, before you reply, “No.”

Your simple answer makes Ghost more curious, and he can’t tell if he should ask why or not. He stays silent for a few seconds, weighing his options, before he ultimately says, “Alright.” 

He tries to leave it up to you whether or not you want to tell him about your own story, of if you’re comfortable with that, which you probably aren’t, considering that—again—the two of you only met a couple months ago.

“Did you wear the mask?” You ask quietly a moment later, catching Ghost off-guard, “Before this?” 

“Before the 141?” He echoes your question from earlier, nodding to himself, “Yeah. For some time before this, I had a different mask, but it was still a mask.” 

“Was the skull always there?” 

“Mhm.” 

“… For just aesthetic purposes, or?” Ghost feels the corners of his lips tug up in amusement at your question, and at how genuinely curious you sound. 

“Eh. Not really,” He answers, taking a deep breath in and out through his nose. He doesn’t say any more than that, not being able to as his mind takes him back to a time a while ago, when he was being held hostage and was in the same room as some kids who heard him spill his entire background to the men holding him hostage. 

He remembers one kid in particular, a little girl with blonde hair, who had listened to every detail that he’d said. When he was telling the story of why he has the call sign Ghost, in hopes of distracting the men so that the 141 could rescue him and the kids, she had clung to every detail and later asked him if what he had said was true, her tone of voice eerily similar to yours. 

He remembers when he was carrying her out of that room, the questions she’d bombarded him with, and how he answered every one with as neutral of an answer he could muster. He debates doing that now with any questions you ask, but decides against it almost instantly—something that shocks him, even though it was his own thought—considering that he wanted to ask you those same questions. Not about your call sign, only about the mask. 

“It’s a long story,” He says after you’ve been silent for a while, your curiosity somehow palpable even through just the comms, “But it has to do with some family members.” 

“Yeah?” You hum, “I know a thing or two about that.” 

“Do you?” Ghost asks, slightly ashamed at the small jolt of excitement he feels at the opportunity of hearing more about you. 

“Mhm,” You pause, staying quiet for a moment, before continuing, “About family members. Dead ones.” 

“Ah,” Ghost nods, the discomfort he originally felt sharing some of his own story starting to melt away, “Dead ones. I understand.” 

“Can’t tell if I should be glad or not,” You snort, “Like, I’m glad you understand, but also sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Ghost grins under his mask, “I was wondering the same thing.” 

“So… dead ones,” You think out loud, before asking, “That’s why you have that call sign and mask?” 

“Yeah,” Ghost looks around for a moment, reminding himself to keep watch while talking to you, before cautiously asking, “Are yours the reason for your mask?” 

“Not really,” You answer honestly, with a little less resistance behind your answer to Ghost’s relief, “Well… I mean, kind of. But they’re not the reason-reason. I didn’t really like them, so I’m not gonna give them all the credit, but I’ll give them… maybe twenty-five percent of it.” 

“A quarter’s still a lot,” Ghost points out, “What’d they do to earn that?” 

“They died, and…” You’re doing more pausing and hesitating now, making Ghost wonder if he’s going to personal every second that you stay quiet, before you finally answer in a more guarded tone, “I almost got blamed for it. Almost.” 

Ghost gets hit with a pang of mixed emotions, like a weird sort of uncomfortable nostalgia. They almost got blamed for it. He lets out a breath that’s slightly shaky, and thinks for a moment before saying, “Almost?” 

“Almost,” You confirm, tone a little less guarded, presumably at Ghost’s more calm reaction, “Then I handled it the best I could, and the guy who killed them got what he deserved.” 

“Which was?” Ghost feels more of that uncomfortable nostalgia bubble up, giving him an uneasy feeling in his gut, as if he knows where this conversation is going. 

“Death,” You answer softly, “And the nameplate on his uniform stolen, which I replaced with mine. I would’ve taken his dog tags, but we didn’t really wear them on missions ‘cause our drill sergeant didn’t care too much.” 

Ghost can put a name to the feeling now. Déjà vu. He takes a deep breath and considers your words for a moment. 

“And the body?” His lips move before he can think. 

“Burnt.” You answer simply, “The whole house. It was mainly drywall, so it took a moment to actually completely catch on fire, but it was quick enough. It also smelled disgusting.” 

“Yeah, I bet,” Ghost swallows, vividly remembering the smell of his own house, before continuing, “He was a soldier for the Navy, too?” 

“Mhm. He was… a Private, I think,” You reply, “I wasn’t too close with him. I wasn’t with anyone.” 

“And so the reason you wear the mask is…?” 

“I didn’t really exist anymore after that,” You hum, “At least, not to them. I was dead in a burned down house, my own house, and was far gone. I like wearing the mask; it keeps me as just another soldier, not as the person who died in that house.” 

“But you didn’t,” Ghost points out, trying to ignore the eerie feeling that only grows stronger the more you talk, “You’re here.” 

“… Yeah, I am,” You say after a moment of thinking, smile evident in your voice, “Doesn’t mean I can take that back, though. ‘s not the best feeling, doing something like that.” 

“Trust me, I know,” Ghost chuckles, “If anyone here, I’d be the person to know, kid.” 

“Really?” You ask, voice more curious like it was before, “Why’s that?” 

“I’ve… weirdly been through almost everything you said,” Ghost admits, “Word for word with the house burning down, actually.” 

“… Huh,” You huff out a small laugh before saying, “I’m wondering if I should feel happy or sad again.” 

“Me too, again,” Ghost smiles, eyes flickering up at Price’s footsteps sound through the hallway, his silhouette slowly coming into view, “One last question.” 

“Shoot.” 

“How’s the weather?” 

“I’m not answering that, fuck you.”

#cod #cod hcs #hcs #task force 141 #tf141 #platonic task force 141 #platonic taskforce141 #simon ghost riley #ghost #cod ghost #ghost cod #reader insert #platonic cod #platonic 141 #sobbing #this is the most i've written since october #i have so many missing assignments #everyone start manifesting that i actually do what im supposed to #happy new years btw #i played the buddy holly riff at the beginning of the new year #so do with that what you will

[ivy-plays]

Hello!

Since you write for Helluva Boss, I thought I could request something for it! It's just that this one is pretty specific so you don't have to write if you don't want to! It was just a fun little idea I had while I was watching a movie.

I was wondering if I could request for 'Blitzø x Jessica Rabbit like S/O' romantic headcanons?

Hi!!! I'm so glad you sent In a request. I immediately got ideas as soon as I read your request! I hope you like it and have a good rest of your day/ night!.

Warnings: none really. If I missed any let me know

Paring: Blitzø x Jessica Rabbit! Reader.

Relationship: romantic

Okay so starting off with how the two of you would have met.

You would honestly probably work out of the lust ring mostly because they just seem to have a higher quantity of singers and performers that fit the vibe.

Anyway

The two of you meet during the events of the episode where moxie takes Millie to Ozzy's.

You were performing that night and Blitzø couldn't help but not look away from you as the stage lights hit your red sequence dress just right creating an effect that made it seem you were glowing. That coupled with your sultry singing voice the man was hooked deep.

Blitzø had caught your eye while you were on stage as you noticed a goitcia prince sitting across from him.

That peaked your Interest. And throughout the rest of your set you observed the imp rather closely,and you would be a liar if you were to say he wasn't good looking.

After you are done with your set and made your way off stage and towards the bar Blitzø had managed to slip away from Stolas and made his way over to the bar and over to you.

When he introduced himself you turned your head ever so slightly to look at him and a soft smile graced your ruby red lips.

The two of you talked for a while until your stage manager came over and called you back stage to prepare for your next set.

You wave off your Manager with a promise to follow behind shortly.

Turning back to Blitzø you gently cupped the side of his face and leaned in promising to see him again while secretly slipping a slip of paper with your number on it into his jacket pocket.

It would be a few weeks later that the two of you would meet in person again. The two of you had been talking over the phone during that time just getting to know each other,but tonight the both of you were free so you were taking the opportunity to meet up.

The two of you would meet at a nice ( but not fancy. Just not dirty and has a good health score) restaurant.

The night went well and the both of you had lots of fun and that would end up being how the two of you got together.

Now for the actual relationship

Blitzø would be very protective of you.

Not because he didn't think you were weak by any means, but just because you were pretty famous across hell .

Whenever you weren't busy with practices or performances you would spend your time at I.M.P. .

You got on pretty well with Millie the two of you finding plenty of things to talk about. Moxie didn't mind you either and actually would be extremely reluctant to believe that Blitzø had managed to get such a famous and beautiful person to date him.

And as for you and Loona we'll. Loona took a bit to warm up to you but after you actually got her to have a conversation with you she realized you weren't as bad as she thought. Epically after you told the young hellhound that if she wanted she could get her into most parties/ higher class places without a reservation.

Blitzø didn't initially tell Stolaz about your relationship ( though he did tell you about the arrangement he had with the prince and was surprised that you didn't really mind).

And with how attached Stolaz is to Blitzø sometimes it wasn't long before he found out that the two of you were together.

He was upset at first but ultimately just wanted Blitzø to be happy. Stolaz of course knew who you were and had seen a few of your performances before.

(it's up to you to decide whether or not y'all become a thruple. But since it's not in the request I won't specify.)

Over all your relationship would be pretty solid. You would shower him in love and affection and he did the same to you.

And you already know the bedroom life is 🤌(y'all probably had a threesome with Stolaz a few times. 👀 )

You would use your connections to help I.M.P if they ever needed Intel,and you would spread the word about their business around which brought in a lot of New clients.

With how often you performed at Ozzy's you had formed a close friendship with the king of lust and his jester boyfriend.

So when the giant blue chicken burst into Ozzy's with a worried expression on his face you quickly grew confused.

Ozzy went on to pick you up and rushed back out the doors and back to his palace, and while on the way he explained to you that Vizz and Blitzø had been kidnapped by Crimson and Striker.

(everything that happened in the episode happens and after Vizz returned to Ozzy, you and Stolaz left the palace and you ,as fast as you could, made your way back to your shared apartment.

When you saw Blitzø you immediately brought him into your arms and buried your face in his neck as a few stray tears slid down your face from the relief of him being safe and back home.

After Blitzø recovered from momentary shock he firmly wrapped his own arms around you , resting his head atop your head.

The two of you spent the rest of the night cuddled together.

I hoped you liked it! It got a little longer and a little more rambling than I meant it to lol. But it's my first time writing In a few months. So the word vomit is real .

#helluva boss ozzie #helluva boss #blitzo x reader #blitzø #striker #moxie #helluva millie #millie x moxxie #x gn reader #fanfics #request #fizzaroli x reader

[munsonluhvr]

MATCHMAKER, MATCHMAKER (DAY #3: LOVE LETTER EVENT)

contents: steve harrington x reader. nsfw! At a matchmaking event in Hawkins, you and Steve are introduced to each other for the first time and let's just say - the sparks fly. for clarification, steve is about 27, 28. word count - 2.3k

notes: welcome to day 3 of the love letter event; i hope you all have enjoyed it so far! i dont even care if this fic is hasty in the plot, i love a good hook up with stranger!steve. point blank period.

love letter event masterlist

“Could this get any worse?” A blonde girl with a name tag that reads ‘Anna’ says, shaking her head as her eyes scan the room. “I thought we would be meeting real men not these boys.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling pleased that other’s feel similar to you. You’re at the first matchmaking event in Hawkins, standing in the gymnasium at Hawkins High School as you mingle with the opposite sex in hopes of finding a potential partner. However, the selection was less then subpar, and you were debating going home.

“I couldn’t agree with you more, the concept sounded a lot better when I saw the flyer, now I’m wondering what I’m doing here.” You respond to ‘Anna.’ The girl sighs in response, swirling the wine in her glass, her bracelets clinking together. A beat later, Anna speaks up again. “Happy Valentine’s Day to us, I guess.”

Your eyes look around, seeing the large group of people that mingle about the room. Cutout hearts made from red and pink construction paper are taped to the walls, adding color to the bland gymnasium. Many tall, standalone tables are scattered around the room, covered in tablecloths, host Valentine’s decorations in the middle of the tabletop, chocolate Hershey kisses scattered around. It looks like a high school dance.  

There must be a hundred people that attend the matchmaking event, you had overheard the hosts of the event that it was a bigger turnout then they initially expected; an even fifty men and fifty women. When you saw the flyer for the event when you walked out of Melvald’s General Store, you thought it would be interesting, something to get you out of your comfort zone and meeting people. An event created just for young adults to meet each other, spark conversation, and foster romantic connections; what could be better? Though, now you stand in the gymnasium, watching poorly dressed men, men who couldn’t even make eye contact, exert larger than life egos and flaunting how they’ll ‘get lucky’ tonight. It didn’t help that you got all dressed up, spent close to an hour picking out the right outfit, applying your makeup flawlessly, styling your hair just right. It was a bummer; the night had had so much potential.

 There wasn’t a single cute guy you saw at the event, and you had really tried to be open minded too. You let men sweet talk you, let them think you would give them a chance, but none of them peaked your interest, none made you curious. That is until Steve.

You are about to throw in the towel, standing against the wall with several women who were feeling identical to your feelings, but something tells you to give it one more go. “Wish me luck,” you whisper to Anna, pushing yourself off the wall. Anna offers you a sympathetic smile, lifting her glass towards you. You spy an empty table, deciding to park yourself there and allow anyone to approach you. You wobble in your high heels, the color of them pink to make your outfit cute and colorful, but you confidently stride over to the empty table that is at the other side of them room.

Once you reach the table, you take a sip of your wine, letting the liquid trickle down your throat. You wish you drank more when you walked into the event, it would have made the experience so much more tolerable.

You play nonchalant, casually resting on the tabletop. Instantly, Steve Harrington is captured by your presence as he notices you from the across the room. He notices you’re all alone and he is quick to get to you before anyone else. Steve rounds behind you, stepping off to the side to announce his presence to you. “What is a beauty like you standing all alone over here?”

You smile, a hot flush washing over your body. Not only is this man that stands in front of you the most attractive man at the event, he’s also the most attractive man you’ve seen in your entire life. “Waiting for a guy like you to come talk to me.” You say, a playful smile lingering on your mouth.

Steve laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Well, I’m glad I came over here then. You’re y/n?” Steve says, squinting to look at your small nametag. You nod, mimicking his glance, you squint and get a look at his nametag. “And you’re Steve?” Steve leans towards the tabletop, nodding. “Steve Harrington. Also known as your next boyfriend.”

You raise your eyebrows, amused by his answer. There was something that was different then the other guys you have met so far. He’s seemingly got an edge to him, something that makes you curious and want to get to know him. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly attractive, a sweet twinkle in his chocolate brown eyes. “Is that so?” you say, tilting your head to the side.

Steve nods, taking a sip of his wine. “If you let me.”

You smile, feeling a blush creep across your cheeks. You laugh softly, shaking your head. You like that he’s confident, playful, but not arrogant. “You’re just cute enough that I might let you.” You say, placing your glass on the table beside you. You decide in this moment that you’d let this ‘Steve Harrington’ ruin your life.

Steve smiles, amusement playing across his face. Steve is slightly mad at himself as he lets his eyes graze over your body. Steve had come to the matchmaking event to find a partner, a girlfriend, it was time for him to settle down. He had left his playboy habits in the past, trying to mature over the several years he has been single, but Steve can’t help but let thoughts of bending you over enter his mind; it’s hasty, Steve knows that. 

“Is that so?” Steve says, mimicking you. You smile, laughing lightly. You nod; giving it up easily was not part of your plan for tonight but as the minutes pass by with Steve in your presence, your plans change quickly. “Met anybody tonight that peaked your interest?” Steve asks, looking past you to the crowd that continues to mingle behind you.

“Just you,” you say, biting your lip.

“Ah,” Steve says, putting his attention back onto you. “So, there’s a chance I could ask you to dinner and you’d say yes?”

You shrug. “There’s a possibility.”

Steve continues to be amused by you, shaking his head. “Is there a chance I could drive you home before anyone else approaches you and takes away the small possibility I have?”

You laugh. You had already been ready to leave and you were grateful that you didn’t have to take the bus back home. “Certainly.”

After retrieving yours and Steve’s coats, you take a walk across the parking lot, instantly greeted by the brisk, February air. You close your coat across your body, attempting to conserve any body heat. Steve walks beside you, ushering your body across the parking lot to his station wagon. Once you approach the car, Steve walks you to the passenger seat but he pauses.   

Steve gives you a look, one that you received many times from men. His eyes exhibit hunger, a deep interest in getting to know you beneath your clothes. You debate it in your mind, though you already know you’re going decide. Should you ignore Steve’s inviting look, only accepting his proposal to drive you home? Where’s the fun in that? Sure, it’s a bit crazy to hook up with someone after you met him only a short while ago. It is Valentine’s day after all, love is indeed in the air.

You let Steve grab ahold of your hips, his mouth finding yours with ease. Upon contact, you taste the light flavor of the wine they severed inside at the event, his tongue swiping across the bottom of your lip. It has been so long since you’ve been touched, your body instantly obliges by making your cunt slick with arousal. Steve leans you up against the side of his car, his body pressing against yours. His strong hands cup your face, your arms wrapped around his middle, as you help bring your two bodies together. There is a sense of urgency in his movements, his fingers tremble with anticipation.

Maneuvering around your body, Steve pulls open the door to the backseat of his station wagon, gently pulling you to the side to encourage you to get in. You break your mouth from his, backing yourself into the backseat of his car. Your heart pounds against your chest, the anticipation beginning to take a toll on you. Steve climbs into the car after you, letting his body hover over yours. Leaning back slightly, Steve pulls the car door shut, and begins to pull his jacket off, tossing it into the front seat. You follow, your fingers fumbling as you unzip the side of your dress, shrugging it off your body. You’re left in your undergarments, watching Steve as he strips his clothes of piece by piece.

Once Steve’s shirt is off, exposing his bare chest, which your hands immediately explore, and he’s shrugged his pants off, leaving him in his boxers, you lean back on the seats, parting your legs. Steve positions himself over you, letting his mouth re-connect with yours. “You’re so beautiful,” Steve mumbles against your lips, his fingers toying with the straps of your bra, gently pulling each strap down. You hook your fingers into your panties, pulling them off swiftly. Your fingers move quickly to the band of Steve’s boxers, working to pull them off too. At the same time, Steve continues to work at pulling your bra down, pulling it further down your torso, exposing your nipples. Steve breaks his mouth from yours once more, planting kisses from your jaw, down your throat, to your chest. Cupping your breast with one hand, maneuvering your breast into his mouth, his tongue brushing across your nipple. Upon contact, your head throws back, your fingers moving from his boxers into his lush hair.

Steve can’t take the anticipation any longer, reaching down his body to shrug his boxers off. Before you have any time to process, Steve pushes himself into you, your legs tightening around his waist. You gasp, your hands gripping Steve’s biceps. Steve moves inside of you at an even pace, beginning to stroke your sensitive spot, encouraging your eyes to roll into the back of your head. You whimper, his large size asking your cunt to accept his size, though you had never delt with anyone quite as large as Steve.

Your grip around Steve’s bicep tightens, his cock stretching you out. With each stroke, you feel Steve immerse himself deeply in you, small grunts escaping his mouth. You moan softly, against Steve’s skin, as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, placing kisses in between grunts. Though it’s freezing outside, cold breezes finding its way into the car, the heat from yours and Steve’s bodies makes the inside of the car hot, fog beginning to form on the windows. The pleasure courses through your body, you reach up in response, your fingers brushing the cold glass of the windows. As Steve moves between your thighs, your legs part, your leg resting against the front seats of the car. “Fuck, Steve.” You whisper, your back arching against his movements. Steve’s name feels foreign rolling off your tongue, though you feel as if you could get used to saying it on a regular basis.  

Steve can barely contain himself as he ruts into you, taking glances at your face which enamors him. Steve has known you for a short while, in reality – less than half an hour, and Steve hopes he gets to know you mor just beyond sex in the back of his car, but at this moment, Steve has never experienced a cunt that wrapped so tightly around him. Steve leans up off your body, lifting your legs so he’s cradling your legs against him, as he strokes into you. He gazes down at you, watching your eyes flutter shut, your lips part, soft moans escaping your lips, your breasts bouncing rhythmically. Underneath the two of you, Steve’s vehicle rocks, reminding Steve that you are in a public place, and that your activities go unnoticed.  

Steve shortens his strokes, his breath becoming ragged as he begins to get closer to finishing. Your body craves him more, your skin tingling under his touch, as your core begins to tighten in your lower abdomen. You whine softly, the pressure building inside of you by the second. Steve’s slow movements aren’t curing your need for him, lifting your hips you grind against him, making up for his slow movements. Steve moves his hands down, his fingers locking around your hip bones, pulling your bottom into him. Steve groans, his eyes fluttering shut, his eyebrows knitting together, as he feels you move against him, at your own temp. And it feels heavenly to him, curing his intense lust for you. Without warning, Steve finishes deep into you, one last moan escaping his throat.

At the same time, your body tenses, an orgasm ricocheting through you. Your legs twinge, shaking around his body. You slump against the seat, your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. You’re breathless, your chest rising and falling, as Steve removes himself from inside you. Steve inhales several times, attempting to regain his breath. “Wow,” is all Steve says, his limbs loose and weak, as he leans against the car door.

You sit up, noticing the handprint you had made on the window, the bottom of the handprint dripping down, similar to the horror movies. You smile softly; the sex had been that good.

“Can I still take you home and out for dinner later this week?” Steve says, pulling his clothes back onto him. You smile again, looking towards Steve. “Definitely, I’d love that.”

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem

[aclockmaker]

more actors au continued from here

Shooting the first season is a fever dream. Creating and playing in a world that no one else gets to see yet—no reviews, no public, just them. The cast is tight, right away. Eddie, like, loves them. He's already made plans to go to Robin's family's house in Joshua Tree this summer.

Eddie and Steve don’t have that many scenes together. Eddie knows, guiltily, exactly when they’re all shooting.

It’s not just what goes on when the cameras are rolling, either. (Which is, like, still insane. Still makes Eddie feel like he's taken club drugs. And maybe he's not the only one, because—)

It's also that Steve is more likely to ask him to hang out, just the two of them, after they shoot together. Eddie could text him or ask him but he has a complex set of rules for how often he's allowed to be the one initiating it, because, well. He's nursing a pretty bad crush here. It's deeply unprofessional.

In the episode before this, Eddie confides in Nancy’s character, their teen journalist-detective, that he has something he thinks he needs to tell her. Something that’s going to blow her mind. But they’re just in the hall at school, the bell ringing, so he can’t do it right now. It’s his own little “I’ve got a secret, Veronica Mars. A good one.” (He’s watched as many dead-girl tv shows as he can to bone up for the role—all the classics going back to Twin Peaks. Veronica Mars is uniquely applicable because Lily does appear in flashbacks, and even though they’re subverting the trope by having a guy get killed, they all know what kind of story they’re telling.)

In the scene they shoot tonight, Steve's character comes to Eddie's house that same night before he can get to Nancy to try to convince him not to tell her. It's not clear what Steve thinks he knows, when he climbs in through Eddie's window, only that he's practically begging Eddie not to do it. He starts off aggressive, like they're yet again about to get into a physical fight. But the fact that Eddie lets him in speaks to the fact that maybe there's a little more to their relationship. And then Steve's character breaks down, cries a little, and it's really—something, to be wrapping his arms around Steve's shoulders in front of the camera and the crew, under the lights. Eddie is a professional, and he's perfectly capable of slotting those feelings into their correct file folders for later perusal, but—it's something. He's given Steve bro hugs. He's pretty sure Steve even hugged him for real the first time he saw him after he was cast (it's a blur). The only time they've hugged like this is on film.

He's not surprised when there's a message waiting for him on his phone when he eventually gets back to it post-short scene with Max, whose character lives next to Eddie's in-story. The message itself is a little surprising. Hey, I'm wrapped so I'm going home but do you want to come by? And then an address in Silver Lake.

It's not so crazy. Steve takes awhile to decompress after filming something emotional; he doesn't like to be alone. Eddie has learned this very quickly and has very quickly come to crave being the one Steve decompresses with. It just typically happens on the studio lot, in Steve's trailer. But this is fine, too. It just makes sense. Steve was done for the day so he went home. But he still wants to see Eddie.

Eddie sends back three thumbs up emojis, bangs his head on his steering wheel, and starts driving. He chews a fingernail, wonders if he should stop somewhere to get something to bring. A bottle of wine. But that’s stupid probably—it’s not a dinner party. It’s just two friends hanging out. (If he thinks it a little defensively, that’s because Mike was leaning heavy on the innuendo when he asked Eddie where he was going tonight. “Oh really, with Steve? Huh. It’s nice you two get along so well.” Eddie had just glared at him and moved on. The kid is such a little shit.)

Steve hugs him when he gets there, which is almost funny—now that he’s acted it out, he’ll do it in real life, like an echo. But it doesn’t seem fake, it just seems like that’s what Steve does when someone comes to his house. He’s a little high strung, maybe, in constant motion while he waves Eddie in and offers him a beer.

They end up on the pool deck, beers in hand, sitting with their legs dangling in the water up to their knees. It’s secluded here, big, old trees blocking them from any neighbors’ view.

“So,” Steve says. “Good scene after I left?” It doesn’t sound like what he really wants to ask.

“Yeah, fine,” Eddie agrees. “You know what Max is like—she’s too cool for school.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Steve laughs.

“Never,” Eddie agrees. The teasing would never end. He glances at Steve, who seems mostly relaxed, maybe a little hunched in on himself.

“Did you ever, um,” Steve starts, looking out at the water. “Date a co-star?”

Eddie’s brain whites out a little, just static. “Uhh. I thought you were going to ask if I thought you looked weird when you cried, or something.”

Steve sputters. “Do I?”

“No, dude, very pretty crier.” Eddie smiles.

“Thanks I guess,” Steve says, frowning a little.

Eddie chews on his lip. “But, uh. No, I haven’t.”

Steve sighs. “Yeah, me either.”

Which is funny, because he’s been linked with a couple of them from previous projects, but Eddie guesses you can’t believe everything you read.

“Is there someone,” Eddie asks carefully, “you want to date?” Steve is close with Robin and Nancy. Eddie can’t see Robin dating a guy, but what does he know.

“I don’t know,” Steve admits. “I feel like. I don’t know if it would be a terrible idea, because we work together.” And then he just stops talking.

“I might be able to respond better if I knew who we were talking about here.”

Steve gives him a look. “You do know. Don’t make me say it.”

“Gonna definitely need you to.” And then, because he can't help trying to make Steve laugh. "It's Joyce, right?"

"Please," Steve says, and does laugh a little. "I wish I thought I had a shot with Joyce." She's a legitimately famous actress who Eddie often can't believe he's going to share an IMDB listing with.

"But, uh," Steve goes on. “I don’t want to mess anything up, though.” Now he sounds careful.

Eddie doesn’t know what Steve thinks he’s messing up—their chemistry, he guesses, if he’s not reading this very wrong. Their friendship maybe. The show. Any remaining semblance of professionalism. Eddie is pretty ready to throw most of that stuff out the window—after all, who says just because they hook up the work will suffer? Maybe it’ll be better because Eddie won’t be crushed under the weight of absurd amounts of sexual tension anymore. Not that it’s been a hardship, but…

“I don’t think you’re messing anything up,” Eddie tells him. “I mean—personally. Who says anything will get messed up?” I think it might be worth it even if it does, he doesn’t add, because it’s shocking to even think it, and obviously too much for the moment. He doesn’t know if he really means it—this show is, like, the opportunity he’s been waiting his whole life for. But he’s already dead on it; there’s only so many flashback scenes they can film as he ages further out of the high school age bracket for a character who can’t get older.

“Yeah, but.” Steve runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “The way we are on the show—“ he shoots a worried little glance at Eddie, who tries not to react outwardly to that, which is hard. “Don’t you think some of that’s because—I mean, for me at least, it is, I’m not saying—for you—"

“Me, too,” Eddie assures him before he hurts himself. “But—okay, you brought this up, not me. What do you want, then?”

“Dude, I wish I knew,” Steve says. “I mean—“ he glances at Eddie— “I know what I want, but I don’t know what we should do. But I just felt like I was going crazy, and the only person I really wanted to tell was, well, you.”

Oh. “Steve,” Eddie says, almost a warning. He wants to offer that they can hook up and it won’t mean anything and nothing will change. He wants to offer that they can date and nothing bad will happen. It’s all stupid, impossible to promise.

“I know,” Steve says miserably. “Sorry.”

Eddie shakes his head. It’s almost unbearably sweet that Steve is so bent out of shape over him. “Come on, we only have, what, two more weeks of filming? We can make it through two weeks, right?”

“Guess we have to,” Steve agrees, but he moves his hand over a little so their pinkies touch on the edge of the pool.

tagging a few people by request, thank you for being interested <3 @atlas-talks @obsessivlyme @lyriclight @deadflowercollector @thatonebadideapanda @wolfstarlights @eddiemunsonswife @alienace @wishiwasacasualfan

#thank you to everyone for name suggestions instead of taking any of the good ones i've just continued to avoid naming characters lol #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #actors au #stranger things fic #steve x eddie #also i'm not the boss of you but please don't be too invested in the plot of the tv show... for your own sanity... i will Reveal All but #i can't promise it will besatisfying

[dailyadventureprompts]

As someone overburdened with ideas it's SO hard figuring out what campaign I'm going to run next. I've got a group of players slowly coagulating but I'm still trying to figure out exactly what I'm going to put infront of them for session 0. The problem is that while I have no shortage of raw narrative material the vast majority of it doesn't easily snap together to coherent campaigns, to say nothing of those ideas that seem fun but haven't yet developed enough to fill out all of my checklist.

Decisive intro: One of my must haves is the idea that there's an initial concept/motivation baked into the campaign pitch that the players can latch onto when building their characters. It's so much easier than my earlier days of " Alright people we're playing d&d make your characters on your own and we'll see how the group sorts itself out by the first session."

Central gameplay mechanic: An understanding of what the players are going to be doing most of the time to progress the plot. Mysteries involve investigating, pirate games include naval battles, sprawling political epics involve diplomacy and spycraft. Just like with the intro, this lets your players create characters who are conceptually and mechanically relevant to the game as it unfolds. Likewise it's a good idea to have the central mechanic reflected in some way in the intro adventure. If its a heist game, make them steal something.

Bulletproof first act adventure: Carrying through on the momentum of the intro, dealing with its consequences, confronting its villains, getting the party tangled up in various other plot threads but tying off neatly at the end.

Strong idea for future arcs of the campaign: To provide those previously mentioned plot threads and enough background worldbuilding. No idea what adventure hooks the party will bite down on but It's my policy to always pack a full tacklebox.

Touchstones: Another unexpected but absolutely necessary inclusion is to give your players a smattering of different pieces of media for them to reference as to the tone and boundaries of this campaign. Is your classic medieval fantasy Lord of The Rings gravity, Narnian wonder, or Montypython absurdity? You HAVE to get the whole party on the same page about it.

What drives all this frustration into actual absurdity is that most players don't even have strong opinions about which campaign they're playing, they're just happy to show up and play whatever amazing thing I've made for them. You think that'd make this easier but it doesn't!

Please, if you're ever in one of my games, have opinions and be loud about them. Be flexible, yeah, but be forward with your likes and expectations.

#dapper digresses

[missmonsters2]

Tara Carpenter please Van with ⚡️🫂✊

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader/OFC

Warnings: traumababy!tara. umbrella sharing. softsoftsoft

Library Blog | AO3

Note: i love her your honor <3

Count: 0.99k (you almost got me there)

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷🗡⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You've only seen Tara Carpenter from a distance.

There was something about the girl who had survived multiple serial killers after her and still enjoying her university life that made her hard to approach.

People still do, of course, but you think Tara only has a handful of people she will truly let close to her.

So, you're content to keep your distance, despite sharing a few classes with her. These intro classes were melting your brain, but the girl in front of you seemed to find them fascinating as she scribbled down her notes diligently.

You watch Tara's ponytail move around, her head looking up and down as she writes notes. You thought that was another strange thing—how Tara Carpenter didn't bring a laptop to class like most people here.

You wonder if it's so she sees less about the stuff written about her online.

The class ends without another hitch, and Tara's quick to pack her things up, chatting with a few people before she takes off. On the other hand, you take your time as it's the last class of the day for you, and you're in no rush to get to your apartment across the campus.

It's a while before you exit the building, and you find it pouring heavily outside. It's a little earlier than the weatherman predicted, but you were prepared with an umbrella. Putting your headphones around your ears, you pull an umbrella out and begin walking.

About halfway through your walk, you find Tara Carpenter standing outside the bookstore, unable to leave as it was obvious she didn't have an umbrella.

Even though Tara looks stressed, you find yourself leaning towards continuing your way because she'd probably find it weird or suspicious if you approached her and offered to walk her home without ever talking to her.

But then Tara looks up and catches your gaze, and there's an unmistakable look of recognition in her eyes. She gives you an unsure smile, and you let out a small sigh as you pause briefly before changing course to walk toward her. You remove your headphones and let them hang around your neck when you reach her.

"Hey," Tara greets you with that same unsure smile. "You're in my intro lit and intro to writing class, right?"

You nod, introducing yourself quietly before saying, "Tara, right?"

Tara nods, but a look on her face tells you that she knows that you should definitely know who she is, but you ignore it.

"Didn't bring an umbrella?"

Tara looks sheepish as she shakes her head. "No, I think I forgot it by the door when I was rushing out this morning."

You nod, hesitating before finally asking, "Do you live far?"

There's a momentary pause, but you pretend not to notice it despite how awkward you feel. But eventually, Tara tells you which area she lives in.

"Oh, I live a block away from you," you tell her. "Do you want to walk home together? My umbrella is big enough and I can drop you off so you don't have to keep waiting."

Once again, Tara seems to be hesitating.

"I won't be offended if you say no, I understand," you tell her softly.

You're not sure if it's your words or how you said it, but Tara accepts with a nod.

The walk is initially quiet because you're too unsure if it's okay to ask her questions without making it seem like you're overly interested in her for nefarious reasons. But you think Tara can't stand the quietness before she starts to ask you questions about yourself—your major, how you're enjoying the classes, and—

The light flashes first before thunder rips through the sky like it's attempting to create a hole.

Tara jumps so loudly, yelping as she suddenly loops her arm through yours before closing the small gap between the two of you.

You're taken aback as you look over at her, the clearly frightened expression on her face, and her eyes move around as if she's expecting something to pop out.

You swallow, feeling sympathy flood your chest for the girl.

"Hey," you say softly. "Are you okay?"

But Tara doesn't answer, just squeezes your arm tighter.

When the second flash of light blinds the sky, Tara suddenly moves her hand to cover her ears as the thunder rumbles the sky.

You mull over your options, but you're quick to decide on grabbing her wrist and dragging her with little resistance to the nearest public library, where others are taking shelter.

Tara sees the crowd and becomes confused. "What are you—"

"Don't think we'll make it home in the rain and thunder," you say quietly, not acknowledging that she froze up in the rain. "We should just take cover here for a bit and leave again when the rain stops."

You bring Tara to a quiet corner, but not secluded away, and get her to sit down on the ground where there are pillows. The thunder rumbles again, and Tara is breathing heavily despite how much she's trying to hide it. She hugs herself as if to try to shrink away from the sound.

You purse your lips before removing your headphones and placing them over her ears.

"What—"

But you pull out your phone and press play, and Tara's mouth closes, letting the music take over any noise. You turn up the volume to drown out the noise but not too loud that it'll rupture her ears and toss your phone into her hands where it's open on Spotify.

Tara merely looks at you as you pull a book from your back, leaning back against the cushions, and begin reading without saying anything.

But even as the music drowns out the thunder, it can still be felt through the sky and ground. Tara shuffles closer to you, flinching at the next feel of thunder.

You swallow, hesitantly putting your arm around her shoulder but relax when she leans into it.

#tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega fluff #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega angst #jenna ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x fem reader #mm.tara.drabble #mm: my fics

[hellodarling1357]

I Can See You (Cassian x Reader)

Summary: Y/N, the Winter Court's Emissary, first meets Cassian after Rhys becomes High Lord and there is an instant attraction between them. Over the years, the two get to know one another and become closer, but it never leads to anything more than friendship. HOWEVER one night they're out for drinks with their friends and one thing leads to another... 👀

Note: Heya! This is my first time writing for ACOTAR (+ for this blog) and I had so much fun putting this piece together.

It's just an idea I've had stuck in my head for a few weeks now and is very loosely based on I Can See You by Taylor Swift.

The attraction between you and Cassian was undeniable from the moment you first met. It had started at a High Lords meeting shortly after Rhys had taken over his father’s title. The original plan had been to ease any tensions lingering around the circumstances as to how both Rhys and Tamlin became High Lords on that fateful night; not create further, although somewhat different, tensions between the Night Court’s General and the Winter Court’s Emissary.

You stood behind Kallias with the rest of your court, trying to pay attention to what was unfurling in front of you, however, your eyes kept lingering over to the recently appointed General, Cassian, you had been informed. And to your embarrassment, or delight, you weren’t entirely sure yet, it seemed the interest was mutual as the next time you glanced his way, you found him already watching you. Again.

The meeting ended with the tension between Rhy and Tamlin being, unsurprisingly, unresolved, but with clear expectations set by the pre-existing High Lords that they wouldn’t tolerate the two courts going to war with one another.

As the members of each court start meandering back to the quarters they were staying in, Viviane grabs you by the arm, dragging you back to her rooms so you could talk, undoubtably, about your High Lord and the ever growing crush your friend harbours for him. Seeing that he is already in an intense looking conversation with Helion and Beron, she begins talking a mile a minute as you enter the hallway, almost causing you to miss the dark haired, winged male leaning against the wall, presumably waiting for his own High Lord to finish any further discussions.

You lose focus on what Viviane is saying as you take in his appearance, he is so much taller up close, and the broadness of his muscles has your gaze lingering over his body as your approach. Eyes drifting back up to his face, you blanch in embarrassment as you notice he is no longer watching his High Lord, but is now staring intently at you, a smirk crossing his features after no doubt realising what had pulled your focus.

You blink and quickly look away, turning back to Viviane who hadn’t seemed to notice your lack of attention as she wondered aloud for the hundredth time if she should give up on Kallias or take matters into her own hands.

As much as you tried to focus, you couldn’t help glancing up at the General as you brushed past him, the smirk still present on his face. “Y/N” He greeted you with a nod, you were too stunned to say much in response, giving a small smile before hurrying after Viviane with a final glance back Cassian.

How he knew your name, you had no idea, but you already found yourself thinking about the next time you would be able to see him.

*****

A few years passed since your initial encounter with the Night Court’s General and although nothing had happened between the two of you, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement whenever he was around. You put this down to just genuinely enjoying his company as you got to know him better. The sense of longing that you also felt was something you decided to completely ignore.

Helion had extended an invitation to all the courts to attend some extended solstice celebrations. While some had declined in preference of their own events, you decided to go along with your court, alongside the Night Court.

Later into the night, you found yourself at a bar not too far from the Day Court Palace. After the official celebrations had ended, you, along with various other court members, decided to keep the night going in a more casual manner. You had been seated with Viviane, Mor, Azriel, and Cassian for most of the night until Viv and Mor decided they wanted to dance, and Az muttered something about getting another round of drinks, leaving you and Cassian alone.

You watched your friends in amusement as they laughed and twirled around on the dance floor, you had all probably had a bit too much to drink but you didn’t find yourself overly caring.

“You know,” Cassian started, pulling your attention back to him, “You’re a lot more fun outside of the meeting rooms.” You stared back at him, eyebrows raising at the somewhat backhanded compliment. “Excuse me? I’m a lot more fun? This coming from the Lord of Bloodshed himself! The tall, brooding Illyrian who waltzes into each meeting with your multiple syphons, which, I think is purely an intimidation tactic, there’s no way you’re actually that powerful.”

You can feel yourself rambling alongside your mock offence, but Cassian just grins back “I think you left handsome off that list. Tall, brooding, handsome Illyrian. Although, I would say that Az is the more brooding type.” You can’t stop the smile that spreads as you quip back and forth, “Oh please, you wish handsome was on that list” “No, I know it’s on that list. I still remember that first meeting, you couldn’t take your eyes off me.” Despite yourself, you feel your cheeks redden, “And how would you know that I, apparently, couldn’t take my eyes off you unless you were watching me just as much?”

You laugh, raising you drink to finish it off. Cassian lets out a deep laugh of his own before leaning in and saying, “Never said I wasn’t, sweetheart.” Your face turns a deeper shade of red as you feel his breath fan across your face, his scent overwhelming your senses.

You want to blame the endless drinks you had consumed for the impact those words had on you, but deep down you knew that wasn’t the case. Sensing the shift in the mood, you lift your eyes to Cassian and find him looking back with…was that longing in his eyes?

Raking your brain for something to say, all you can do is hope that you’re not opening and closing your mouth like a fish as the world seems to slow down around you both. Cassian raises a hand up to your face, gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He moves in a bit closer to you but is abruptly bumped into by an unassuming, and slightly drunk, Azriel who has returned with a tray of drinks in hand.

“One for you, and one for you. Hey!” He waves down Mor and Viv who rush over at the sight of more drinks. You and Cassian both murmur a thanks before shifting in your seats and turning back to your friends. Whatever had just passed between the two of you was clearly gone, the moment over, as you continued chatting with your friends.

*****

After finishing your drinks, Mor and Viviane drag the rest of you onto the crowded dance floor where you spend the better part of the next two hours. That is until an extremely intoxicated male bumps into you, causing his drink to go flying and you to knock into Cassian at the impact.

Cassian quickly steadies you, checking that you’re okay as the male furiously rounds on you, red in the face as he screams “You bitch! Watch where you’re going—” But before he can get another word out, Cassian’s fist collides with his face, knocking him to the floor, before he gently grabs your elbow and steers you away from the sweltering dance floor.

You wave off your friends' concerned looks as they linger by the dance floor whilst Cassian checks you over again, “Y/N are you sure you’re alright? That prick has been bumping into people all night, and then has the audacity to blame it on you.” He scowls as he glares over at the male who is trying to get another drink at the bar.

“I’m fine, Cass, really. It was just a bit of a shock.” Despite your reassuring words, worry is still etched across his face but he simply nods before gesturing towards the dance floor “Did you want to head back in or take a breather, grab another drink?” You watch your friends for a moment, your carefree and relaxed demeanour seems to slip away, as though the male’s angry words have sobered you up.

“I think I’m just going to head back.” you say with a small smile. Cassian grins back at you, placing a hand on the small of your back as he leads you towards the door. “What? Cass, you don’t have to leave as well. I’m fine just a bit tired.” but Cassian just gives you an incredulous look, “Right, as though I’m going to let you walk back through a strange city alone.”

You’re about to argue back but, as though sensing this, Cassian shoots you a look that tells you he’s not changing his mind, so you sigh and gesture for him to lead the way.

*****

The walk back to the palace is pleasant; you talk whilst watching the groups of fae who are continuing with their solstice celebrations, neither of you caring to note that you happen to be taking the slightly longer route.

Or, for that matter, caring to note that, what started with a gently placed hand on your back to help lead you out of the busy bar, turned into an arm casually draped over your shoulders, extending to fingers that have been slowly tracing patterns onto your skin as you continue to roam the streets.

With a growing feeling of disappointment, you eventually find yourself back at the palace and in front of your bedroom door.

Cassian turns to face you, his hand leaving its place on your shoulder to slowly drag down your arm until he reaches your fingers, absentmindedly linking them with his. You look up from your intertwined hands, offering a smile before quietly saying, “Thanks for walking me back.”

You're not sure if it's the alcohol coursing through you or the close proximity and lingering touches, but either way you find yourself stepping up onto your toes and placing a soft kiss on Cassian's cheek before taking a slight step backwards.

Cassian looks as though he’s about to say something but ends up giving your hand a squeeze as he also takes a step back, “Night Y/N, sleep well.”

You don’t try to stop the frown that crosses your face as he turns away from you and begins to walk down the hallway. You’re about to reach for the door handle when memories of the moment you shared earlier in the night comes racing back, causing you to hesitate.

“Wait…Cassian?” He turns back, an unreadable expression on his face. All you can do for a moment is stare at one another before something shifts and you’re both stepping forward, reaching for the other as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down, pressing your lips against his.

The kiss is soft, and sweet, and slow. But before you’re ready for it to be over, Cassian is pulling back, resting his forehead against yours as he searches your eyes for something. “Y/N—” Cassian starts but the look on his face, and the need in his voice, has you leaning up on your toes, crashing your lips back against his.

Cassian’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he backs you into the wall. This time the softness, the sweetness, the slowness is all replaced by a fast, desperate, longing for one another, a longing that had been pent up since the day your first met.

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #Cassian imagine #Cassian one shot #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #marley writes

[jeremywhitley]

Canonically trans pirate: Alister St. Marina

So, when we first started the Sea of Thieves comics, the game was still in alpha testing. I got the incredibly cool privilege of rolling up on the Golden Shores before other people even had access, because we were basically launching simultaneously. One of the really cool things about the set up was that we got to create our own crew from scratch and tell a story on the sea when it only had a few legends in it, so we were given free reign. I knew we had a handful of issues to tell the story and I hoped we'd get to come back to them, but nothing was certain.

Some of the characters, namely DeMarco and Lesedi Singh became regular characters in the game, which was something I had never even realized was a possibility. Then, of course, DeMarco's death as a big story in the game. It was the first big mystery. And Lesedi was part of it. We even got to hear Lesedi's voice (I was quietly VERY excited they actually cast a South Asian woman in the part).

That led to a new opportunity! Years after their initial adventures, we got to make a new mini-series called "Sea Dog's Search" which centers Lesedi on her quest to find her brother's lost soul. We wanted to change things up and show that it had been years of adventuring on the Sea of Thieves, so even though we hadn't written years of comics, we wanted to show that their lives had kept on going. Since Lesedi was our focus in the series, updating her look was important to me. In the first comic, she started out looking like this:

Then, in the game, she and her brother founded The Sea Dogs and got sharp matching outfits:

Obviously, she stay's looking fly, but it's worth noting that this was a matching outfit with her brother and much more his style than hers (DeMarco loves clothes and dressing sexy, Lesedi has always been a little more no nonsense). So now that she's out from under the shadow of both her brother and legendary father, we've done some updating to her look. First, she had to get rid of the old one and do a bit of fighting of her own:

Over the years, the variety of what you can wear in SoT has improved so we wanted to give Lesedi something that felt like it had a little bit of who she is and a little bit of her home.

But there was somebody else who hadn't really been in the game whose evolution was perhaps more important to me.

When we had done the first miniseries, I talked with the crew about the possibility of having a trans character in the books. They were excited, but one thing they really wanted in the comics was to make sure that things that characters did in the book were more or less achievable in the game and, at the time, there was no way in the build to change your character's look or gender once you started.

But now, there is! There is a potion that allows you to change the look of your character including their gender. Rare and co was very supporting of us then following through with an idea we had during the first fun that was now possible. I had originally written the character of Alessia St. Marina as a person who was not comfortable in her own skin and had used costumes and espionage as a way to cope with that. She was especially fond of going undercover pretending to be male.

At the end of the mini-series, Alessia ended up getting together with her partner in crime, but she was never able to come out as trans. But it has been a few years both in our world and in the game one, so allow be to introduce you to Alister St. Marina.

He's a smooth talkin swashbuckler who just happens to be married to one of the most dangerous cutthroat women in the world, whom our crew has to rescue from her most recent scrape.

So, thank you very much to Rare, Titan, and everybody else involved for letting us tell this wonderful story and bring the first canonical trans masc pirate character into the Sea of Thieves.

See you out there, you salty sea dogs!

#sea dogs #lgbtq #lgbtq comics #sea of thieves #seaofthieves #sea of thieves mystery #demarco singh #lesedi singh #Alister St. Marina #trans pirates #queer pirates

[starhrtz]

desc. Spending Christmas with your boyfriend (part 1!)

character(s). kazuha, xiao

note. cr to @/dumbificat for xiao idea!! Also I'm finally alive

Boyfriend!Kazuha who would spend the afternoon decorating and creating personalised ornaments together making sure your Christmas tree was unique and special just like you and him. He basically had been waiting for the time where you both could show what presents you bought for each other, after all why has he been working so hard these past few months for? Just so he get you a lousy gift? Of course not!

Merry Christmas, Love. Perhaps it's not much of a fancy gift but i do hope you like it... See? It has both our initials on it. Oh, don't worry how much it costs.

Boyfriend!Kazuha who doesn't really mind what he gets as his gift, heck you can even just say your his gift and he'd be the most happiest boyfriend on Christmas after all you make this winter less cold when your with him.

Boyfriend!Xiao who didn't get why you seem so excited for this holiday but he just sighed and agreed to your strange antics with a fond look. Helping you decorate a tree, shopping for decorations, even witnessing you buy some ugly matching sweaters... But when it came to buying gifts, he got nervous. Xiao didn't know why, he thought he knew you so well yet here he is standing cluelessly in your shared apartment wondering on what to do. Perhaps a card? No, that was his valentines gift... Maybe a leaf shaped into your favourite animal? Oh wait, that was your birthday gift. He glanced at the kitchen before taking in a deep breath, this shouldn't be too hard right?

"Merry Christmas, (name). Work has been stressful for you so i wanted to try and make something for you instead of you always cooking for me." He softly muttered hiding his fingers which was wrapped with bandages as he watched you happily eating his food.

Boyfriend!Xiao who finds a soft smile appearing on you fed him his own food, he felt warm inside. Was it the almond tofu? Or was it you who made this christmas less chilling.

#astronetwrk #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #☾ akademiya’s library #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #genshin xiao x reader #xiao x reader #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #xiao #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin fanfic #writing #★ — writing

[coralinnii]

If you’re a villain, then let me be your accomplice

feat: Kalim genre: romance note: sequel to "being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy", short mentions of d*ath, shorts mentions of small cuts and blood, roughly 1.4k words

series masterlist

Ever since the arrest of the traitorous family member, most of your worries dissipated and you’re able to focus on things that don't include your imminent death. Due to your interference, the story has changed somewhat and now you’re wondering how you could bring it back on track. 

Aside from your young death, the story was a classic "prince and the pauper" story where Kalim, the male lead, met a poor woman who was an assistant to a doctor that was called as the family’s last desperate attempt to cure their son. The two of them were to fall in love and fight through the battle against social classes to be together. 

You could imagine Kalim being the type to love regardless of background. Even with you, a mere servant, he showed such care and gentleness that left you flustered and in awe of this man’s heart. So, in order to help achieve his happy ending, you started to plan how to create the fated encounter. 

Admittedly, you had your own hidden agenda as well. You had enough awareness that you were starting to get too comfortable in the sweet man’s presence. The scarlet-eyed heir was easy to love and if this were to go on any further, you fear your feelings will reach a point of no return. 

You ignored your younger brother's insistence that the rich heir shared your feelings

“He likes you, everyone can see it!” 

“Master Kalim is kind to everyone, that’s just how he is” 

You had to bury such hopes. 

So, you have to act fast before your foolish heart does something you would regret. You have secretly investigated the clinics and doctors in the town in search of one with a particular staff member. And once you did, you got into action. 

Kalim was surprised to hear you suggest a stroll around the village market. Usually he would be the one to initiate such an adventure but he immediately agreed, excited to go down into town with you.

On the day of the town visit, Kalim was on cloud nine. He happily strolled down the streets of the village, gazing at the crafts and dishes the stalls have to offer. He swung his hands that was clasped with yours, as you decided leaving him to wander un-tethered is not a good idea (you had such a scolding from Jamil last time). 

Recognizing the route the two of you were on, you knew the clinic of the doctor (and the assistant) were nearby so you initiated your plan. 

You saw a wooden stall in your path. Gritting your teeth, you pretended to trip and harshly slammed your arm against the side of the stall, causing a fairly nasty wound on your arm. 

Kalim yelled out in shock, quickly reaching your arm to cradle it in his hands. His ruby eyes looked like it was brimming with tears, ready to cry at your misfortune. He hurriedly asked the stall owner if there was a doctor nearby and to your luck, you two were told of the clinic, the one you planned for. 

What you didn’t plan was for Kalim to suddenly crouch down and  effortlessly scoop you up off your feet, craddling you as he swiftly moved between the crowd. His tan arms felt so secure around you that you never felt safer than here in his arms. You never questioned his physical strength but this was not something you ever expected of him.

“Master Kalim, I can walk!” 

“This is faster!” 

Finally, the two of you reached the clinic, and you two faced the doctor’s assistant who saw a flustered you with a bleeding arm, and a crazed nobleman in cold sweat. You had to physically stop Kalim from frantically screaming to the doctor as though you were dying. Dying from embarrassment, maybe. 

You made sure to time your appointment when the doctor was out to buy supplies leaving the assistant, Kalim's love interest, to meet you and Kalim. Now, you expect for sparks to fly and hearts to beat faster the moment they look into each other’s eyes. 

If the love interest would actually look at Kalim, that is! 

“Thankfully, it wasn't too deep so you’ll be alright” the assistant smiled once she ties the end of your bandage. You give your thanks, testing the tightness of the gauze on your arm. 

“Thanks so much, doctor!” Kalim exclaimed, tears in his eyes as he held your injured arm gently. From an outside perspective, someone would assume the noble heir was the injured patient with the way he treats your injury like his own. He looks to the love interest and smiled graciously. “What more could I do to repay you?” 

But the woman quickly turns to avoid his gaze. “It’s nothing. I’m just did what I can” 

“Still, I’m grateful!” he grined in gratitude before refocusing his attention to you. “Are you ok? Do you need anything?” 

You smiled before you could stop yourself and shook your head. “I’m perfectly fine. You worry for nothing” 

“But you lost some blood, you should re-hydrate to make up for it. I’ll get something to drink!” 

“Master Kalim, that’s unnecessary… he’s gone” a sigh left your lips when you saw Kalim rush out in a flash. You worry that he might tackle down someone at that speed. 

At least this gives you time with the assistant and Kalim’s fated one. You put on a smile before speaking

“My master is a very kind man, isn’t he?” you started off. 

“He is… a good person, yes” the woman responded back, but the tenseness in her tone is noticeable. 

“He’s definitely the type to treat his partner very well” you paused before frantically correcting yourself “Not that he has one right now! He’s very much single, not that there’s a reason for that! It’s just he hasn't found interest in anyone, but he’s not averse to relationships, not at all!” 

Mortified by your fumbling words, you prayed that Kalim’s to-be is not too turned off. You nervously watched her and waited for any sort of comments or thoughts. 

“Look,” the woman sighed, “Sir Kalim seems like a great person and I’m sure anyone would feel loved with a man like him” 

“Yes, yes! You understand!” 

“But,” she cut your thoughts off. “The Asim family is the center of the world of nobility, an environment that commoners such as you or me can’t possibly survive in. The members of that society themselves cannot live in peace” 

Her words and tone…they speak of a truth you were well aware of as both the servant living in that society and as a reincarnator that foresaw the difficulties the Asim family will face. The way she speaks is as though she faced these struggles herself but that couldn’t be, this character was written with a background of common ancestry. 

“It couldn’t be…Is it possible that she may be…” 

“No man is worth the struggles, not even Kalim of the esteemed Asim family” 

“You’re wrong!” 

You screamed, jumping from your seat without a second thought. It was true how cruel the noble society was, to both born and associated with it. You knew the stories of manipulation, betrayal, and bloodshed and your soul quivers in fear that someone may do away with you at any moment. 

You knew it all to be true, but still! 

“Master Kalim is worth any adversity, always!” you spoke fervently, your voice the loudest it’s ever been the entire day. “He is so kind, much kinder than anyone I have ever met or will ever meet. His smile lights up the manor and warms his people like rays of the morning sun. He watches over all of his siblings with such affection, never complaining even when he’s tired. He treats everyone with respect regardless of our class or race, and he’s so forgiving and supportive of the new servants. No hardship is too much if it’s for him!” 

Your breath ran ragged, your body taking its time to calm down after shaking from your indignation. No matter how many lives you end up going through, you're confident that Kalim was the kindest man in all reality, and such a man is definitely worth struggling for.

The love interest stood in her spot, silent with wide eyes as she watched you pour out your dedication. 

But she wasn’t the only one surprised by you. 

Behind the closed door was Kalim, with one hand that hovered above the doorknob while the other held a large pitcher of water he bought from a nearby restaurant. Kalim turned speechless, a rarity for him. He could feel and hear his heart beating hard against his chest, his face and ears burning despite being shaded from the harsh noon heat. He’s not a stranger to compliments since his family and servants are quick to praise him but how is it that yours seem to resonate so deeply into his soul, your words felt like it was being tattooed onto his racing heart? 

Kalim is always happy when he’s with you, but this time his happiness feels so different. He didn’t understand the feeling of joy spreading throughout in his body but he doesn’t hate it, not at all. 

“What’s happening to me?” 

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #villainess au