The feminine urge to write a one shot where it’s just Wednesday and Yoko trying to figure out why their girls are mad at them together.
Yoko: She is giving me the silent treatment.
Wednesday: She said she’ll be spending time with someone who “cares”, whatever that means.
Yoko: We’re fucked.
Wednesday: Decidedly.
Yoko: We might have to swallow our pride and beg Thing to tell us what he knows
Wednesday: Or we could threaten to snap his fingers one by one.
Yoko: I like the way you think
3K notes
·
View notes
Imagine the Hermits learning ballroom dance.
Imagine Etho being assigned to lead because he’s tall & everyone assumes he would.
Imagine him constantly fucking up, stepping on his partner’s feet, missing beats, just a mess.
Imagine Bdubs getting upset from the sidelines.
Imagine him getting blustery about this disaster & stepping in, saying no, no, no, this is all wrong, shooing Etho’s partner away.
Imagine anxiety bubbling up in Etho’s stomach, at having to lead for Bdubs, as he walks over.
Imagine Etho trying to place his hands on Bdubs, mentally preparing for another disaster.
Imagine Bdubs tutting & moving Etho’s hands away, much to Etho’s confusion.
Imagine Bdubs then firmly placing his hand on Etho’s back & grabbing his other hand.
Imagine Bdubs confidently taking over the whole situation.
Imagine Etho’s amazement as Bdubs leads him, and suddenly Etho’s dancing is on beat, smooth, no stepped on feet.
Imagine them elegantly whirling across the floor, everyone else watching them in surprise.
Imagine Bdubs dipping Etho.
Imagine Etho looking at Bdubs face while this happens & feeling his stomach flip at the burn of assurance in Bdubs eyes.
Imagine the song then ending, & them just staying there for a moment, breathing a bit heavy from the exertion.
Imagine Bdubs pulling Etho back up & releasing him & pointed saying that that was how you did it.
Imagine Etho staring at Bdubs, feeling lost & unsure now that Bdubs isn’t there, hand on his back deftly leading him.
Just like. Imagine.
300 notes
·
View notes