#towards a more Goth Sound | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lafemmemacabre · 1 year

Text

Goth 101

🦇 tl;dr version for those who prefer that format

Goth is a music-based subculture that started out in the UK in the late 70s/early 80s and spread internationally from there. It spawned from the UK Punk scene, keeping the DIY ethics but turning the music more melancholic, introspective and experimental.

The music genres that the subculture was built around are (dark) Post-Punk, Gothic Rock, Darkwave, Ethereal Wave and a few other smaller subgenres.

While the fashion and other non-musical aesthetics are very prominent and beloved by goths, they're non-essential to the subculture. What defines a goth is the music we listen to.

Our "big 4" bands are The Cure, Sisters of Mercy, Bauhaus and the Banshees. However, 3 out of 4 of those bands are Post-Punk acts (Sisters of Mercy being the exception Gothic Rock band), and while very influential to the rest of the goth music scene, they by no means are the end-all, be-all of what goth music sounds like. The genre has evolved through its over 40 years of existence, creating diverse sounds. Anyone darkly inclined can find something to love, even if it takes a bit of research.

The Dark & Gothic playlist on Spotify is a pretty decent way to get started into goth music. In my old blog I had entire tags dedicated to goth music as a whole, and separately to Post-Punk, Gothic Rock, Darkwave and Ethereal Wave too. I had a few playlists based on popular goth aesthetics here.

The longer description of goth music will include playlists for each bigger goth subgenre, but please keep in mind they're made by me in a way that appeals to my personal tastes for each subgenre. I don't know every band that exists and my personal taste is biased towards the 90s.

Now, to a more detailed introduction to the goth subculture...

🦇 Dark alternative vs Goth

What a lot of people need clarified is that the goth subculture doesn't have a monopoly on the dark alternative world, nor are we the home for everyone sad, spooky and weird who doesn't fit in and might listen to any sort of sad, spooky or weird alternative music.

There are SO many dark alternative music scenes that have nothing or very little to do with the goth subculture. We've influenced a lot of them fashion-wise, but just because they copied us we look alike doesn't mean we're interchangeable.

There's no scale that goes from Prep to Goth and measures how Valid™ your inner darkness is, in which if you're anything below goth then you're a poser and lame. It's perfectly fine and cool to be dark alternative without being a goth. Goth isn't a badge of legitimacy or honor, it's just one specific flavor of dark alternative among so many.

Goth is a very small and obscure subculture despite our superficial hypervisbility (our looks and infamy are hypervisible, what we're actually about is extremely buried underground), and most dark alternative people aren't goths.

🦇 What does it take to be a goth?

There's one rule, and one rule only: LISTEN TO THE MUSIC. You wouldn't call yourself a metalhead without being a fan of Metal music, would you? The same principle applies to goth.

There are many types of alternative subcultures; some examples are fashion-based subcultures, another are lifestyle-based subcultures. A third type of subculture that's very prominent (especially in the West) are music-based subcultures.

Goth is a music-based subculture, just like the metalhead, punk, emo, rivethead/Industrial, hip-hop, rave, K-Pop and grunge subcultures are.

This means that, while the music isn't THE ONLY aspect the subculture has, in order to be a goth you have to listen to goth music, and we have a specific set of music genres that our subculture was built around, so not just anything dark and melancholy will do, as we don't have a monopoly on that, but we do have something closer to a monopoly on a specific sound and musical legacy.

You don't have to listen to goth music EXCLUSIVELY to be a goth, that'd be insane. You don't even have to limit yourself to dark alternative music either. You just have to listen to goth music to a relevant degree and be passionate about it and you're in, the rest is up to you.

This means too that the way you dress has no impact on your validity as a goth, whether you don't have the gothic wardrobe of your dreams yet or you just don't want to dress goth at all. I'm TikTok mutuals with a girl who dresses exclusively in pink-white sweet lolita coords, but who's passionate about goth music. She's a goth, no questions about it. On the other hand, a lot of the influencers you'll see online who look like a lost Addams cousin aren't goths at all, and no house decor or outfit will make them gothier if they don't listen to the music.

🦇 What music counts as goth?

From the previous points I made you probably gathered that Industrial and Metal ⁠– both genres that outsiders usually associate with the goth subculture ⁠– aren't actually part of the goth genre. So, what is goth music?

Goth music developed initially in the UK in the late 70s/early 80s off of dark Post-Punk. Post-Punk itself developed from UK 70s Punk Rock, being also influenced by Glam Rock, experimental electronic music, and many other influences more specific to each band that took part in this musical development (Bauhaus were very influenced by Reggae!).

What characterizes the goth sound are elements such as; being bass-driven rather than guitar-driven (in almost every case), guitars playing more of a decorative or atmospheric role instead of being the main focus (which contrasts starkly against genres such as Metal), preference for voices with a lower vocal range (altos, this is your genre to shine in!), optional use of synthesizers, recurrent replacing of human drummers with drum machines, and common use of lots of reverb and delay effects everywhere for an extra sensation that you're listening to music recorded in a catacomb.

Dark Post-Punk was the starting point of the goth subculture, and from it, all other goth music subgenres developed. Depending on who you ask there's a billion goth micro-genres. In my opinion a lot of those subgenres are rather meaningless (a lot of them are just specific flavors of Post-Punk or Darkwave) but the main 4 subgenres of goth music are:

(Dark) Post-Punk

Gothic Rock

Darkwave

Ethereal Wave

POST-PUNK:

Post-Punk took the standard sound of Punk Rock and its DIY ethics and made the sound more melancholic, romantic, experimental, less angry, and more introspective. Dark Post-Punk in particular was influenced by gothic literature and old horror movies (including their soundtracks, the Banshees created their characteristic guitar sound after the violins in the Psycho soundtrack).

Besides the 3 Post-Punk bands I listed as part of the goth "big 4", there's bands such as Skeletal Family, Twin Tribes, Specimen, She Wants Revenge, Sex Gang Children, Xmal Deutschland, Lebanon Hanover, Cruex Lies, The Secret French Postcards and The Birthday Party.

GOTHIC ROCK:

When goth became slightly more established in sound, Gothic Rock is what happened. Less experimental than Post-Punk, a bit more Rock-based, more decidedly dark and miserable than Post-Punk necessarily is, and finally severed from goth's punk roots. Sisters of Mercy is THE most popular and influential Gothic Rock band; they popularized the use of extremely low baritone vocals and drum machines. Despite existing since the 80s, its popularity peak was in the 90s.

Goth as a whole has its "big 4", but the subgenre of Gothic Rock has its own "big 3", which are Sisters of Mercy, The Mission (UK), and Fields of the Nephilim. Other Gothic Rock bands are Rosetta Stone, Corpus Delicti, Inkubus Sukkubus, Mephisto Walz, Angels of Liberty, Two Witches, Nosferatu, Wisborg and Soror Dolorosa.

DARKWAVE:

Goth going electronic! There's basically two types of Darkwave; the one that's more a combination of Post-Punk + Synthpop (very popular in the past decade), and the one that's more a combination of Gothic Rock + electronic music in general (most popular in the 90s). EXTREMELY danceable, but then again goths can dance to literally anything. This genre has existed at the very least since the second half of the 80s and has never stopped being relevant in the goth scene, save maybe during the Deathrock revival phase.

Clan of Xymox might be the single most influential Darkwave band. There's also The Frozen Autumn, The Crüxshadows, Switchblade Symphony, Collide, Dark, Ghosting, London After Midnight, She Past Away, Drab Majesty and Boy Harsher.

ETHEREAL WAVE:

This genre is heavily linked to Dream Pop, Neoclassical Darkwave and Shoegaze. Like with Darkwave there's basically a few styles of Ethereal Wave, I can pinpoint three; the one that's like, regular Goth Rock/Post-Punk but with a lot of extra delay and reverb and other stylistic choices that make it sound, well, Ethereal, dream-like. There's the type that has lots of Folk influences (be it Medieval/Rennaisance-ish type of Folk or "ethnic" type of Folk), and there's one that's synth-based but, unlike Darkwave, sounds like what ketamine must feel like. This genre has existed since the mid 80s but its peak in popularity and relevancy in the scene was in the 90s.

Dead Can Dance is THE most influential Ethereal Wave band, but there's others such as Cocteau Twins (started as Post-Punk, ended up as Dream Pop and Ethereal Wave), Miranda Sex Garden, Faith and the Muse, Lycia, Claire Voyant, Hamsas XIII, Love is Colder than Death, SRSQ, Black Tape for a Blue Girl and Mors Syphilitica.

What about Deathrock, Gothic Metal and Industrial?

Deathrock is goth's American twin, basically. While in the early 80s in the UK morose ex-punks were playing Post-Punk, in the early 80s in the LA Punk scene morbid and brooding punk kids were playing Deathrock; it's closer to Punk Rock in sound than Post-Punk, being more about being spooky and brooding than about being eerie and romantic. Goth is to vampires and witches what Deathrock is to zombies and werewolves.

To summarize the consensus on Deathrock and its place within the goth subculture; it's rare to find a goth who's not also into at least some Deathrock, and even rarer to find a deathrocker who's not into goth. Personally, I think Deathrock is its own separate though very similar thing, but I don't mind Deathrock being lumped in with goth music.

I made a whole TikTok video on why Gothic Metal isn't a goth subgenre, but in summary; Gothic Metal is a Metal subgenre that was somewhat influenced by goth music in its earliest stage of development, but is for the most part a cross between Doom Metal and Death Metal with lyrics inspired by gothic literature. By adhering to a Metal sound it doesn't fit the type of sound goth music has. The goth influences in Gothic Metal were mostly only present in the earliest bands and a majority of the newer acts are completely disconnected from the goth scene.

As for goth's ties to the rivethead subculture (and thus, Industrial music): We've been sibling subcultures since at least the early 90s. Both very, very small and underground scenes that despite being different, had enough similarities in music, idiosyncrasy and aesthetic sensibilities to comfortably band together for the sake of scene viability. That's why you might hear people talking about the "gothic-industrial scene".

Keep in mind too that 80s and 90s Industrial music sounded very different from how it does now (compare your average Grendel or Combichrist song to your average Skinny Puppy or Die Form song). There was a lot less influence of raver music in the rivethead scene back then, and a lot more influence from 80s dark alternative music and New Wave, which are key influences for the goth scene as well.

As told by goth YouTuber Angela Benedict (goth since 1995), every goth back then listened to at least some Industrial, every rivethead listened to at least some goth music, and they all loved 80s New Wave, so DJs at shared club nights had a very easy time entertaining both audiences simultaneously.

🦇 Trivia & other things to know

The term "gothic Rock" was being used in music journalism as early as to describe releases by The Doors and The Velvet Underground, but the word "gothic" there wasn't so much used to point to a specific type of sound at that stage, it was used to imply the mood of the music and that's not where the subculture gets its name.

We don't know for sure why this subculture began to be referred to as "goth", initially the music was called either New Wave (just a darker and more underground variety of it) or Positive Punk. However, one of the potential roots of this name for our subculture is that it comes from an inside joke from members of Southern Death Cult/The Cult about Andi Sexgang (Sex Gang Children) about how he was a creepy little guy obsessed with the macabre and dark romanticism living at the Visigoth Towers, so they called him a "goth goblin" and if he was a goth, then his fans were goths too.

From the comments that the goth bloggers/vloggers I follow get, apparently it's common for baby bats and people interested in the subculture to think that they HAVE to find a goth "type" to lock themselves into, like "trad goth" or "romantic goth" or whatever else, and if they don't, they're a poser. This isn't true at all. Most goths wax and wane between fashion styles and goth music subgenres. These terms are far more useful to describe aesthetics rather than people or music.

If you ever hear people talk about "1st/2nd/3rd wave goth/Gothic Rock"; that's an (in my opinion) outdated and not too functional terminology to differentiate between "eras" of goth music, 1st wave being between 1975-1985, 2nd between 1985-1995, and 3rd between 1995-? That terminology was used widely when I was a baby bat but not so much anymore.

"Baby bat" is what a lot of more established goths call newbies! It's NOT meant as an insult nor to be condescending. It's a loving cutesy term and while of course most baby bats are very young, it's perfectly plausible to be a very grown adult and a baby bat if they just got into goth instead of getting into the subculture as a teen.

Most goth bands are easily found on Spotify except for more underground ones that haven't been active for a while (I have so many beloved bands and songs that just don't exist on Spotify), but the real goth jackpot is at Bandcamp.

Facebook is still useful for one (1) thing and it's for finding goth events; that's where I've found out about gothic fairs, goth nights and gigs; from the largely popular ones in my local scene to the very underground ones.

The song most of the subculture agrees is THE first official goth song is Bela Lugosi's Dead by Bauhaus, which was recorded as a singular take. It was the first track the band recorded together, too.

The Batcave is infamous nowadays as a huge goth night club in Soho (London) during the early 80s, owned by the band Specimen, BUT as told by the very people who used to frequent the nightclub, the whole thing has been a little overblown and its current reputation is more legend than fact. YouTuber Gothcast has a great video on the subject that was praised by members of Specimen itself!

youtube

Most of the most iconic pioneer goth musicians HATE being referred to as goths or to have their music referred to as such. When the term "goth" was first starting to be used to describe our music and scene it was a pejorative used by outsiders and/or mostly associated with the campier and more "low brow" bands (Specimen and Alien Sex Fiend come to mind). Andrew Eldritch from Sisters of Mercy especially hates it, to the point he refuses to even say the word and refers to it as "the G word". Which is hilarious since he sounded the most stereotypically gothy out of the big 4 and looked like this at the time he started to be a piss baby about it:

Goth isn't really a "youth" subculture anymore if you ask people within the scene. Unlike people from many other subcultures, goths have a tendency to stay goth far into adulthood (even if covertly). When you go to any events, besides teens and people in their early 20s, you're gonna see plenty of goths in their 40s and older, a few of them will bring their kids along if the event is family friendly.

Besides the obvious chance of many goths being professional creatives (musicians, writers, artists, etc), for some reason A LOT of goths work in tech and healthcare!

Metalheads headbang, they and punks also mosh. What do goths do to vibe to our music together? We dance! We don't dance the same as non-goths but we LOVE to dance to our music, together or solo. There's no established dance styles to adhere to; it's just letting your body flow to the music. Some goth dancing is very intricate, some of it is very simple, it depends on the goth in question. Just in case, this is NOT like the dance gifs of cybergoths/rivetheads under that damned bridge. Think less that and more Wednesday Addams dancing to The Cramps, or the girl from the Night of the Demons movie. Here's some videos about how goths dance:

youtube

We fucking love 80s New Wave. No, Depeche Mode isn't a goth band; yes, you'll have to dig deep to find a goth who doesn't ADORE them. The only one I've come across who disliked Depeche Mode liked Soft Cell instead.

Goth IS international! Not just in the sense that there's fans of goth music basically everywhere, but that there's local goth scenes with their own local goth bands everywhere. Outside of the US + Europe + Canada, there's huge goth scenes all over Latin América (our Deathrock and Post-Punk are at times even popular among 1st world goths), and there's also smaller but still present goth scenes in Africa, Asia and Oceania. She Past Away is very much one of THE most popular goth bands in recent years and they're from Turkey.

The goth scene has always been in friendly terms with the LGBT community. Not only are many of our biggest icons LGBT themselves (the whole band Specimen, AVC from Sopor Aeternus, both members of Diavol Strâin, the vocalist from Male Tears, Cinnamon Hadley, and many more) but plenty of cishet goths (especially the men) embrace gender non-conformity and/or androgyny. In most local scenes, goth club nights are held at gay bars/nightclubs, as they don't tend to have privately owned venues. And either way, at any goth night there'll be tons of gay and gender non-conforming goths no matter where they're held. To varying degrees depending on the locality of the scene, gay and bi people are completely normalized in the goth subculture, and gender non-conformity and androgyny aren't just encouraged, but praised and coveted.

There's goths of any religion you can think of, but Neo Pagans are somewhat over-represented in our community compared to the rest of larger society (for better or worse). Funnily enough, very few goths are actually Satanists of any sort. I'd say the numbers go more or less similar to our local non-goth peers. In the West and westernized countries I'd say it goes; majority culturally-Christian atheist or agnostic goths (usually not militant about it), a few practicing Christians of whichever denomination (usually whichever is dominant in the country they inhabit), the rare but entirely plausible Jewish, Muslim or Buddhist goth, and a bunch of Neo-Pagans. Probably one (1) or two (2) actual Satanist goths per state/province/etc, tops.

World Goth Day is celebrated every year on May 22nd.

"Mallgoth" isn't a type of goth in either a musical or fashion sense. I made another TikTok about it, but in summary; it was originally hurled as an insult towards a very specific type of poser; the American kids in the late 90s and early 00s who imitated how goths dressed and called themselves goths while only listening to Nu Metal and maybe the most mainstream Industrial Metal. They tended to congregate at malls and behave particularly obnoxious to everyone there, further ruining our already delicate image (especially at that time).

Cybergoths aren't really goths either. Their music scene is centered around EBM, which is basically slightly darker and slightly more aggressive raver music that may or may not have Industrial influences. And to be honest they behaved like a rapacious invasive species in goth club nights to the point that they almost decimated the actual goth scene and it took us a while to recover from that.

Goths are sometimes perceived as too self-serious but honestly? We love making fun of ourselves and we tend to have a very silly or dry sense of humor. We're just tired of the same cheap and inaccurate jokes made by people who don't know anything about us. The best jokes about goths will often come from goths ourselves; you can only properly make fun of something you understand well! The few times outsiders get it right though? (Sad to confirm that the South Park goth kids are hilarious and I wish they were in a better show) You'll see goths sharing the SHIT out of it, such as me being obsessed with the goths from Ridonculous Race, or the clip below:

youtube

#goth music #music #goth #gothic #gothgoth #goth subculture #trad goth #gothic rock #post punk #darkwave #ethereal wave #Spotify #goth 101

1K notes · View notes

house-of-lovin · 1 year

Text

cuddle bug

Wednesday Addams x F!Reader

masterlist

Summary: Wednesday seems to have caught a certain bug today, but of course, her stubborn ways would never let her say it out loud. It's up to you to decipher her enigmatic signals.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence

Note: soft and stubborn wednesday? hell ya! 🥹 (this is kinda unserious lol)

Word Count: 2.4k+

Wednesday was disgruntled today.

More so than usual, but alas, she felt it as she tapped her boot on Nevermore’s hallways. She was waiting for your class to finish so she can drag you to lunch. Like she always does. The cafeteria would no doubt fill up with her irksome classmates soon.

Even now, before the bell has rung, some students are already strangling by. When the loud ringing does sound, Wednesday is standing straighter than she already is; posture rigid, eyes trained on every person leaving your class until she could spot you.

“Hey.” You greeted her with that soft smile that always manages to make the Addams girl’s heart dart wildly in her chest, like the hummingbirds she used to lay traps for. And, like the latter mentioned, the hummingbird was as hard to subdue as her heartbeat.

“Hello.” Sweet and short like always.

You glance around making sure the coast is clear before leaning down and pecking her cheek, ignoring the way her head turns for her cheek to readily meet your lips – on command. She savoured how your soft, plump lips connected with her skin, already frowning when she felt you pull away too fast for her liking.

A pair of thumbs gingerly brush her fringe aside, unfurrowing her eyebrows with the pads of your thumbs. “What’s got you looking so grumpy today?” You frown, jutting your lip out excessively as you tease.

“This is my face.” She defends.

You shake your head, disagreeing. “No this is your ‘i’m grumpy about something but i’m not gonna say’ face. There’s a difference.”

Wednesday is pulling back from your touch, walking away fast on her heels. She can hear you laugh but her annoyance overpowered whatever pleasantness the sound usually brings. She felt fingers slot between hers causing the goth’s step to falter, as you entangle them. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” You say, still laughing.

She feels you squeeze her hand when she doesn’t respond.

Wednesday is still walking towards the cafeteria, intent on ignoring you and how well you can read her microexpressions. You tug her aside to a deserted hallway, trapping her against the wall; leaning against her.

The Addams tries her best to put on the most impassive face she can muster as you lean in close, tilting your head to the side. “Wens…” She shivers at the nickname. “What’s wrong?”

“There is nothing wrong. Other than you in the way of satiating my hunger. Now move, so we can join our friends and eat.” She whips back; hating the way her ‘harsh’ words (which have been lacking since you two started dating) makes your features soften even more – as if you were even more enchanted by her, not terrified like it used to make you.

“Okayyy…but don’t say I didn’t ask you.” You squint your eyes at her, leaning down to peck her lips – taking Wednesday by surprise. She doesn’t even have time to relish it because you were pulling her along to the cafeteria.

– –

You feel a tug on your blazer, looking over it would seem like Wednesday was wearing her usual impassive stare, but you’ve watched her a lot way before you even started dating – the gloominess that followed the goth catching your attention at first glance. She was wearing that same frown from before lunch that has you confused.

Raising a brow, you scoot the bench seat closer, leaning into her space. “You alright?” You question, sliding a comforting hand over her fingers tightly gripping the fabric of your Nevermore jacket. Her jaw clenches so firmly you can see the sharp edges of it protruding.

She nods stiffly, choosing to turn her attention back to the teacher at the front of the class.

You shake your head in amusement. Electing to be patient with whatever ruminations your girlfriend had. She would tell you when she was physically incapable of keeping in whatever it is that was bothering her inside. So until then, you would let her sulk and pout – Wednesday Addams style.

“You know, you need to tell me what you want. I can’t read your mind, Wens.” You tease, whispering in her ear, enjoying the way she visibly fought off the shivers from your breath.

“I do not want anything.” She grits through clenched teeth, unable to swallow her pride.

“Okay…I was just saying.” You say in that amused tone, unconvinced. Maybe your goth girl just needed her buttons pressed, just a bit more.

You forcefully bite down on your tongue, preventing a squeal from escaping as she pinches your arm in warning. She sends you a deadly glare; daring you to try her.

The rest of class was spent with your chair pressed against Wednesdays as she keeps a firm hand on your jacket. You tried to pull away to write some notes down but Wednesday tugged on your arm, preventing you from doing so. She even had the audacity to throw in a glare in which you rolled your eyes back in response. Only when the bell rang, signalling the end of the school day did she release her hold on you.

You packed your books slowly, allowing everyone to filter out of the class; Wednesday waited patiently by your side. When it was only you and her left in the room, you linked your pinkies together tugging her out of the class. “Come on grumpy, let’s get out of here.”

She clenched her jaw but gripped your finger achingly soft, refusing to let go as you lead her down the hall. “This is not the way to Ophelia Hall.”

“I know, I left my gym bag in the locker room after fencing practice, I need to go get it.” You replied. The 3-week-old unwashed fencing pants you left in the locker was beginning to form a stench that your teammates are complaining about.

“Fine…” Wednesday reluctantly concedes. You smile at her adoringly, amused that even though she was being a bit of a grump she is still willingly following you.

– –

Wednesday is agitated now.

She stands off to the side, waiting as patiently as she can for you to finish your conversation. This detour was only so you can pick up your dirty clothes, but now it was nearing past ten minutes since you’d engaged in a conversation with your gorgon teammate and the goth was growing increasingly irate.

Her glare sharpens when she sees the gorgon girl spare a glance to Wednesday making you turn as well. You send her a brief, apologetic smile before facing away and continuing the conversation; it made the Addams’ girl jaw clench firmly.

She had half a mind to stomp over there and drag you to Ophelia Hall, where you were meant to be this whole time. Instead, she silently walks over to stand behind you, catching bits of your discussion.

“Yeah, Coach said he’s gonna make practice harder for the semi-finals.”

“That sucks, I’m still sore from earlier today.” She hears you pout, rubbing a soothing hand on your aching shoulder.

“Yeah right, you barely broke a sweat, I would know. I was watching.” The gorgon rolls her eyes, a hint of flirtatiousness evident in her tone and Wednesday was fighting the urge to yank her by the tendrils of her snake-like hair. Instead, she clears her throat loudly – making her presence known.

You turn with a warm smile, “Sorry, Wends. I’m taking too long.”

Looking back at your gorgon teammate, who had the audacity to look peeved at being interrupted, you apologized and excused the two of you. Slinging the gym bag over your shoulder, you link pinkies with Wednesday and tug her out of the gymnasium and to Ophelia Hall. Wednesday doesn’t miss her opportunity to glare at the gorgon, who cowered under her vicious stare; pride swelled in her little black heart.

“Okay, grumps. Seriously, what’s up?” You ask when you get to her dorm, letting your linked fingers drop. She walks ahead of you, ignoring your question – moving around the room to busy herself.

You walk over to Thing, who was silently (not that he can say much) watching you and Wednesday from Enid’s bed. Plopping down with a sigh when you get no answer, you nudge the hand, “What are you reading?”

Thing slides the magazine over for you to see, “‘10 nail trend predictions for the fall that you won’t want to miss.’ Very interesting, Thing. Did you decide on a favourite?”

You can hear your girlfriend’s displeased huffs as she moves around the room; setting up for her daily one-hour writing time. You ignore her, focusing on Thing’s rant about his own fall nail colour predictions.

“Hmm… I think I prefer the sage green, it would look great against your skin.”

“Are you two finished?” Wednesday cuts in.

‘What’s wrong with her?’ Thing signs to you.

“Not sure, she won’t tell me. Does she ever do that to you, Thing?” You ask, ignoring the girl’s vicious glare. If you weren’t pushing buttons before, you definitely were now.

‘All the time.’ He signs making you laugh. You were just glad to have a sympathetic ear…or hand.

“Sometimes I wish my powers extended to reading minds but then that would take away the fun, wouldn’t it?” You asked rhetorically, sparing Wednesday a smug smile.

When you look away you feel a breeze of air fly past your cheek. Turning around with widened eyes, you nearly yelled at seeing the knife impaled to the wall, “did you just throw a knife at me?!”

“I gave you a warning.”

“Are you two finished is hardly a warning.” You scoffed, frowning as you watch Thing scurry out of the room; fear present in the way he crawled. You would laugh if you didn’t currently share his fears.

“What happened to ‘heads up’? Better yet, why don’t we try to keep our girlfriend’s heads connected to their bodies? It would be unfortunate if yours lost hers.” You pout for sympathy, wearily walking over to where she sat by her typewriter. It’s a gamble to try to approach the Addams during her sacred writing time; it was like willingly offering yourself up as dinner to a hungry bear.

You walk in slow, cautious steps, making your presence known to the goth. Only once you were close enough did you place your palms on her shoulders; feeling her tense under the pressure. You squeeze lightly, easing some of the tension in her shoulder blades. You can tell Wednesday secretly enjoys your shoulder rubs by the way she leans into your touch.

“Wednesday,” You say firmly as you press into her shoulder, making her hiss. “What is going on with you?”

“There is nothing going on with me.” She grits, you can feel how hard she’s clenching her teeth just by the way the veins in her neck visibly protrude through her soft, pale skin.

You sigh at her stubbornness, electing to lean down and press a soft kiss on the junction where her neck and shoulders meet. She tilts her head to the side as a reflex; it gets her to drop the repressed tension.

Continuing your pecks, you slowly turn her chair to face you. You see her eyes fluttering open when you disconnect your lips from her neck as if she was suddenly brought back to reality; the impassive gleam in her eyes returning.

“Come on,” You tug her by the hands, walking over to her bed. “You can kill me about missing your writing time, later.”

Wednesday rolls her eyes but allows herself to be tugged along, despising how you already knew what she was going to say.

“Lay down.” You ordered, dropping her hands.

She says nothing, just staring back at you with an upraised brow.

‘Really?’ her fringe-hidden brows are saying. You were fluent in the language of Wednesday Addams’ micro-expressions.

You roll your eyes, kicking your shoes off and hopped into her dark sheets. You wiggle around, smiling cheekily as you got comfortable in the warm covers. How a person who felt like a frozen tundra sleep in a warm oven for a bed, well, it just doesn’t make sense… but you were definitely not complaining.

Patting a hand on your stomach, you say, “come on, lay down on me.”

“I am not a toddler.” She crosses her arms; she tries to avert her gaze from your figure but her flittering glances told you, you had her hooked.

“Wednesday, get in the damn bed,” You raise your tone, smacking a hand on the mattress.

The Addams clenches her jaw, muttering indecipherable threats under her breath, but gets in beside you anyway. “I said, lay down on me…”

You turn to her, raising an expectant brow. The goth draws her eyes to slits, slowly moving her weight to rest on top of your body; gently laying her head under your chin.

“That wasn’t so hard now was it?” You rub patterns on her back, relishing the way she physically melted into you.

She pinches your side for the second time today, making you flinch. “Shut up.”

You chuckle, pecking the top of her head, letting the silence envelop the room. The sounds of Wednesday’s slow breathing and the slight breeze of the late fall afternoon can be heard through the cracked oval window. You can tell she was on the precipice of sleep just by how her grip on your shirt loosened.

Suddenly you’re thinking, laughing to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” She mumbles sleepily into your neck, trying to get comfortable in your hold.

“Is this why you’ve been such a grump all day? You just wanted to cuddle?”

She stays silent but you feel the way she tenses making you laugh.

“I think someone caught the cuddle bug, but just didn’t wanna say…” You tease.

This time the punch in your side has you heaving, coughing out rough breaths. “Ow…okay I deserved that.”

“I will leave this bed and happily continue my writing time if you resume this behaviour.” She warns, but the peril in her eyes was missing making you smile fondly.

“No, no… come back.” you lay back down to get comfortable, wrapping a firm arm around her waist. She settles back into your chest, burying her nose against your collarbone; subtly nuzzling her nose against your warm skin. It felt immaculate against goth’s perpetually cold skin.

“Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.” You press a kiss on her forehead.

“It is foolish of you to think that I would care if you left this bed,” she mutters weakly.

“Mhmm,” You hum, laughing. “Goodnight, my love.”

#wednesday addams #wednesday x you #wednesday netflix #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x you

2K notes · View notes

ghostfaceaddams · 9 months

Text

guts

summary: Wednesday confesses her feelings for you in her own Wednesday Addams way.

warnings: cussing and fake death (mention of blood)

word count: 2,514

a/n: this is based off of this post! This sucks, just a fair warning. I love Wednesday and I know how she would do romance, but articulating it is super difficult. I'm hoping I can get better at writing her since this is only my first time and I love her so much. Anygays, enjoy!

The day had been dreadful for you.

Dreadful in the sense as it being so awful that you wanted to go home and just gently cry yourself to sleep. Ever since knowing Wednesday, you had realized just how potent perception was to each individual. A dreadful day for Wednesday would end with a gentle tugging of the corner of her lips before crossing her arms comfortably across her chest.

They were not the same. It didn’t take much effort into noticing the differences between the Addams family and the rest of the world. And yet, the two of you always seemed to get along. Well, getting along in terms of Wednesday Addams. That meant there was less scowling and a minimum amount of threats within the presence of each other.

Developing a fascination with Wednesday was almost instantaneous for any and everyone. Harboring a crush for the goth wasn’t an unusual occurrence either. Being compared to Wednesday only meant pointing out all the differences between Wednesday and the other person. It was only natural to become intrigued by the lifeless, unblinking stare and morbid interests.

As for the feelings, Wednesday Addams was aesthetically pleasing to the eyes. Her pale skin and raven hair were stark yet appealing contrasts with freckles sprinkled around. One could simply not fall in love with the goth after noticing the sea of freckles. Not to mention how soft and full her lips looked, always pale but darker than her pale skin.

The aurora that surrounded her and the way she held herself were both handsome attributes that lured you in. Her intelligence was admirable (as well as sexy if anyone was to ask you). Her voice was often times even and lifeless as she spoke, or even and factual; the sound was always pleasing to the ears, caressing the skin of your body and your heart.

It was when emotion trickled through her voice that you were really left weak in the knees. The fact that ninety-percent of that was directed towards you when conversing? Well, it would be more of a mystery to not fall for her.

So, yes, you were completely and utterly infatuated with Wednesday Addams. Her grace and beauty were so captivating. The goth’s entire being was an addiction for you.

Wednesday wasn’t a romantic person though. She burned romance books and nearly fell ill whenever Enid or Divina decided to display a romcom. Any form of affection had her wrinkling her nose and stitching her eyebrows together in a ferocious, pout. She always made discouraging remarks about Ajax and Enid’s relationship; everyone only knew the remarks were half-assed because the rainbow werewolf had managed to worm her way into the goth’s heart.

Yoko and Divina holding hands as they walked along the lake or cuddled on the couch for movie night always prompted a scowl from Wednesday.

Of course, everyone knew how much she abhorred physical touch. Despite wanting to drift your fingers through her bangs to smooth them out after a vision or lightly drag your fingers along the palm of her hand, you never did. Kissing Wednesday was the most prominent and recurring fantasy of yours, but you left it at that.

You respected Wednesday’s boundaries and loved her too much to attempt to cause the girl any discomfort.

Even with all of the walks to classes and shared isolation wasn’t enough to warrant suspicions from you. The only person allowed to be present during Wednesday’s writing period (Enid would be there wether she was allowed or not) was you. You’d never once asked to read her novel, but you did mention wanting to if Wednesday ever changed her mind; to that she had just hummed thoughtfully.

Her eyes were always a shade lighter and her face marginally softer when in the company of you. She declared you were the least annoying person out of “this group you all like to label as a friend group.” To Wednesday, it was just a group of people that she didn’t want to kill (as badly as others). Even her digs at you weren’t as callous as the others.

Enid had been trying to convince you to make a move because “Wednesday totes likes you!” but, “is too stubborn to make the first move.” But you’d spent enough time studying Wednesday and enough time putting yourself out there just to be shut down, to not make a move. You wouldn’t label the relationship between you and the goth as a friendship, but in their own unique slash dysfunctional slash bizarre way, they were friends.

You didn’t want to lose the nights of wordlessly stargazing after having watched her practice her cello, of days where she glared at Xavier in botany for even attempting to converse with you, of philosophical spiels from the goth and her in return trying to keep up with your hyperfixations, of her warning you to be careful if you were in the woods alone before deciding to accompany you because it was the “smarter” decision.

Wednesday was different with you from the others, you knew that, but the reasoning having to do with romance was absurd.

Absolutely, completely, and totally absurd.

Yoko was staying at Divina’s for the night, so you flipped the light-switch as soon as stepping foot into the shared dorm. You made sure to lock the door behind you, knowing that Wednesday would pinch your ear if she found out you didn’t.

She always threatened to hurt you if you got injured or killed and glared when you would laugh at the irony. You didn’t really mind though, because you could only find her scowl adorable and not intimidating. Though, you’d never dream of saying that to her. She’d probably either ignore you for a week or stick needles in her eyes.

You dropped your bag off by your desk then went to your closet to find some pj’s. As heavy as your limbs were and how your eyelids kept drooping, you knew you needed a shower and showers before bedtime always helped you sleep better. So, you quickly brushed your teeth and turned all of the lights off.

The last thing you did before rolling onto your side and easily drifting off to a different state of mind was plug your phone in.

You weren’t sure how long you had been under Mr. Sandman’s spell, but the sky was just as thickly black as before and Yoko wasn’t back. In fact, the door wasn’t even opened. The window leading into your shared dorm was opened barely an inch, and you knew it had been shut before going to bed. No one could get into your room from there anyways, unless they were Spider-Man and could climb walls.

The chilly noise that had roused your from your sleep wasn’t uttered again. Deciding you were probably only half-asleep and imagined the noise, you moved to curl back up in your previous position. But then there was a thump and a swirl that sounded like a body zooming across the room, ending with a thud on the floor.

Considering your deep-rooted love for horror and having faced a Hyde and a Pilgrim raised from the dead, not much could scare you at this point. Your hand was sturdy as it reached out to turn your lamp on and the racing of your heart wasn’t an obnoxious thump but a steady hum. What you saw next had your heart stilling in your chest.

“Wednesday!”

You leapt off the bed without a second thought and rushed to the aid of a seizing goth. Her body flung itself so she was on her back. Despite her head flinging this way and that and the rest of her body spasming, you quickly grabbed her and cradled her against your lap.

“Wednesday! Wh-what’s happening?” You asked despite her seemingly partly unconscious.

Two shallow breaths scratched the thick air around them and then Wednesday’s small body slumped. While it wasn’t unusual for the goth to be laying exceptionally still and her face expressionless, it was dialed to one-hundred. Or more like negative-one-hundred from how still and chilly she was.

There was blood scattered all over her body, turning her black clothes even darker. Even her sweet face that held so much information with the lack of expressions had blood splashed all over. There was barely an inch of her skin that was just her pale complexion and not slick blood. Her bangs that you were so obsessed with were messy and the rest of her hair was goopy with blood.

You gently cupped her cheek, as if that would keep the Addams girl from being harmed. She was already unmoving and unresponsive, you didn’t want to make matters worse. You couldn’t hurt Wednesday, especially when she already was so terribly hurt.

You sniffed and strummed your thumb along her elegant cheekbone. Her already chilly skin was even cooler, causing your fingertips to twitch and the rest of your body to spasm. Tears were cascading down your cheeks and dripping onto Wednesday’s face. You hadn’t even realized you were crying, you didn’t feel the slick heat on your cheeks or your eyes burning.

You didn’t feel anything. All you could feel was the barbed wire tightening further and further around your trembling heart. You were sure you were bleeding internally from her heart, and you hoped it would overflow so that you wouldn’t have to live in a world that didn’t have the insatiable Wednesday Addams in it.

“Wednesday, come on, wake up. This…” You swallowed hard. “This isn’t funny, though I know you find your cruel shenanigans to be just that.”

Seconds ticked by without a witty remark from the cold girl in your arms. Tears kept spilling down your face, so much so that you could wipe all the blood off of Wednesday. When too many tears blurred your vision and you could never see the most beautiful person ever, you dropped your head to her chest and clung to her tightly.

‘I should’ve listened to Enid.’ You couldn’t believe that something so horrible and so horribly cliche could be true! All this time you had waisted pining for Wednesday and now she’ll never know how you truly feel about her. You’d never get to know if she’d rather know or not, even if she didn’t feel the same.

Enid.

How were you going to explain this to her? The person she deemed her best friend, the girl she risked her own life to save last her, her roommate, was now dead. Someone so special in life and to Enid’s heart was no longer going to be around to threaten people and stun strangers and make their classmates laugh.

The girl you loved was gone.

“Oh, cara mia, it was all just a playful ruse.”

You jerked away from that metallic voice grazing your skin and kissing your ears. The rare tone of voice that was either used when speaking about a devious plan or talking to Uncle Fester or Enid. It was smooth and warm with a slight rasp tickling it, but still even and steady like her daily, monotone voice.

When you jerked away, you were met with a smile gracing the lips of the girl you had thought was dead. For a full sixty seconds, you were sure that Wednesday had been possessed because Wednesday Addams did not smile. But then you remembered her smirk at Outreach Day when her and Thing had successfully ruined the event, and you remembered the very few times she had snuck a smile here and there.

You could hear Enid’s voice in your head screeching how Wednesday looked at her with the goth’s own version of heart eyes. And you remembered how Wednesday would escort you to class and offer to hold your books, how she’d sit with you at lunch and didn’t threaten you like the others. How angry she got whenever you were careless and your safety was at risk.

That smile was innocent and it was infectious. A one-hundred-percent, bonafide Wednesday Addams smile.

Her hand cupping your cheek startled you from the reverie you had been induced in. The subtle shutter had that small smile widening and a warmth flooding her eyes. You always found the girl to be so beautiful that there were no words to adequately describe her, but this smile and the heat in her eyes was something even more remarkable.

She ran her thumb along your cheekbone and smirked as you leaned against her delicate touch.

“Y/N, my heart beats when your heart beats, and I suffer when you suffer. Which is not as fun as I expected suffering to be. As long as the earth rotates, that will never change. My fealty belongs to you and my heart will never forget the kiss your presence has left on it.”

Even if you had ever fancied the thought of Enid being right, you never in a million years expected Wednesday to say that as her love confession. And definitely not with that smile that kept trying to pull up further! You jerked your head down and counted your fingers and were left stunned to count ten. So you weren’t dreaming.

Your heart was thudding harder against your ribcage from that declaration of love than it had been when you thought Wednesday was dead.

Dead. Right. This whole sweet and enchanting confession was only given after she had faked her death. She pretended to die for what exactly, your reaction? If you hadn’t reacted appropriately would she have left you to believe she was dead? Or would she have woken up and left unimpressed?

As relieved as you were that she was alive and you got to do the next thing, you were pissed at her.

You smacked her - hard - on the bicep and glared at her. “Wednesday Friday Addams!”

“I’m assuming this is in response to my flawless scene I had enacted of demons possessing my body and effectively murdering me.”

“Yes! This is in response to…all of that!”

Your response only made her grin bigger. You guessed that it was only satisfying Wednesday’s knowledge of you reciprocating her undying love. As aggravating as it was, it was what made Wednesday Wednesday and you loved her more than breathing.

Sighing, you cupped her face and rubbed your thumb against the red stain on her face. “I’m assuming this is pig’s blood.”

She gave a single nod of her head, her eyes doing all of the smiling for her. “My smart girl.”

There weren’t any powers in the world that could have prevented you from shuddering at that compliment.

Wednesday’s smile morphed into something wicked, very on par for her, and she began to lean in.

“Darling, as much as I love that devious brain of yours,” she smiled brightly, loving the adjective. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

She gave a solemn nod of her head. “Allow me to make it up to you, cara mia.”

And with that, you finally let your love kiss you.

#gfaddamswritingcorner #ghostfaceaddams #wednesday addams #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x y/n #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader

862 notes · View notes

seresinhangmanjake · 2 months

Text

Not Your Type: Part 2

Jake Seresin x goth girl!reader

Summary: Jake Seresin doesn’t usually have to try hard to get women, but the only woman to catch his attention in a long time doesn’t want anything to do with him.

Written in the form of sharing milestones of their relationship as it develops. For example - Day 1: the day they meet; Day 3x: the day they (...); Day 5xx: the day they (...); and so on.

Notes/Warnings: Jake being annoying but also desperate. Cursing.

Words: 2990

Full Masterlist

Day 14:

“What do we want for this round, girls?” Gemma asks. She stands, albeit a tad unsteadily, at the edge of your booth with her hands on her hips, ready to take your order as if the Hard Deck provides her with biweekly paychecks.

She’s been in California all of three days; she and Lola—friends from your hometown who were in desperate need of a change of scenery and accepted the offer of your extra bedrooms. And as usual, Gemma effortlessly embraced her new environment within the first twenty-four hours of her arrival. To onlookers, you imagine that of the three of you, she would be the assumed local.

“More of this fruity stuff, whatever it is,” Lola says around the thin straw clenched between her teeth as she nurses the current ‘fruity stuff’ in her glass.

Gemma looks to you with a raised brow, but you shake your head, tapping your nail against your soda cup. “I’m good.”

“Party pooper,” she playfully sighs, flipping a section of deep purple hair over her shoulder and turning in the direction of the bar.

Getting the drinks was meant to be your job—a welcoming treat after their exhausting move—but Gemma got a peek at the bartender, and by exercising the magical abilities that come with her smile, has spent half the night providing the three of you with free alcohol and fountain sodas.

“I’m the DD!” you call after her, but as is the case on most Friday nights at the Hard Deck, the volume of the room devours your voice before it can reach her.

“She’s gonna go after that bartender the second his shift is over,” Lola tells you. “Poor guy has no idea who he’s dealing with.”

“No,” you agree, chuckling and rapidly recalling the string of heartbroken men who would reach out to you or Lola in the hopes of getting ahold of Gemma after she’d ghosted them. “But they never do, and unfortunately, they never learn.”

“You know, I’ve been told I’m a phenomenal learner,” you hear, but it’s a much deeper sound than the curly-haired woman at your side is able to produce. The unexpected addition makes the sip of soda in your mouth travel down the wrong pipe, throwing you into a coughing fit.

“Oh, shit,” the voice rushes out, snatching a napkin from the next booth and thrusting it in your face. You take it to muffle the sharp choking noises fighting their way out of your windpipe. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You scold yourself for not realizing he was here before he made himself known. It was almost two hours ago that you began feeling that same burning sensation from a couple of weeks ago, but you thought little of it, having scanned the room for him when you first arrived at the bar. You even opted to sit facing the front door, figuring you wouldn’t miss it if he entered, but he still managed to sneak in. He still found you. He still affects you.

As you recover your breathing, he extends his hand past you toward Lola. “I’m Jake.”

“Lola,” she replies, shaking his hand as she glances at you.

You let out a final cough, dabbing a napkin at the corner of your mouth then wiping it just under your waterline to pick up your tears. “Fuck,” you mumble.

“Name a time and a place, sweetheart, and I’m all yours.”

Lola snorts with her lips around her straw. Her following giggle makes air bubbles burst from her shallow glass. Stray droplets splash onto the table, a few soaking into the sleeve of your top.

You have no time to decide who is more deserving of your glare—Traitor Friend or Ken Doll—before Gemma’s return. As she slides into the seat opposite yours, she’s so focused on keeping liquids from sloshing over rims that she doesn’t notice the intruder.

“Fruity thing for Lo,” she pushes the glass to Lola who eagerly accepts a fresh drink, “spicy thing for me, and, tragically, nothing for the DD.”

When she finally senses the vibe at the table—greatly altered from what she left behind a few minutes prior—she turns her head. The surprise in her expression settles into subtle excitement as she rakes her eyes up Jake’s body to his face. With that wicked smile of hers, she plants her elbow on the wooden surface and rests her chin atop the back of her hand.

“And what would you like?” she teases in a low, seductive tone.

“Just a chance to talk with your verbally vicious friend,” he says, jutting his chin in your direction.

“This is Jake,” Lola informs her.

“Jake?” Gemma questions you, cocking her head in genuine curiosity. “You’ve never mentioned a Jake.”

“He isn’t worth mentioning.”

Jake smirks through the jab. “You know, you don’t have to repeatedly stab me in the chest.”

“You’re the one who keeps standing in front of my knife,” you shoot back, crossing your arms.

There’s not a single uttering from the group of four as Lola and Gemma stare at you and Jake staring at each other. Neither of you is willing to break eye contact, and the tension becomes heavy, like rich honey—thick enough to drag your finger through.

“Can we talk privately?” Jake then asks, that smirk still in place. He looks away from you only to address your friends. “You ladies don’t mind if I borrow her, do you?”

“Not at all,” Gemma answers, each word out of her mouth a little less crisp than the last. “As long as you borrow me next.”

“Gemma!” you snap. “Not this one.”

“But he’s so hot,” she whines.

“I’ll cut you off.”

She gasps. Then her bottom lip protrudes in a pout, and her hands cradle her glass as she pulls it closer to her chest protectively.

“That’s a very flattering offer, if we can call it that,” Jake says. “However, that guy over there, the one with the outdated mustache,” he steps aside and points to the friend you recognize from the other night. The brunet’s cheeks redden and he quickly jerks his head in the opposite direction of Gemma’s prying gaze. “He’s been having a hell of a time trying to keep his eyes off you tonight. Just can’t help himself.”

Jake shakes his head, clicks his tongue, and faces your table again. “Honestly, I know the feeling,” he says. His eyes connect with yours, puzzle pieces locking together until the burn starts to sear too deep and you have to look away. “It’s a tough spot to be in,” he continues. “And I can’t in good conscience move in on the girl whose laugh has made another man blush three times within the last hour.”

Just like that, Gemma is over Jake. Other than the pang of relief you feel, you don’t think anything of her swift attention shift until five seconds, then ten, then fifteen pass without her ceasing her careful examination of Jake’s friend.

“Will you come with me?” Jake asks you. “I promise I won’t keep you long.”

You chew on your lip, trying to ignore his pull.

“Lola, you think she should come with me, right?” he says.

Lola doesn’t glance his way as she runs her finger along the rim of her glass to collect the leftover grains of sugar. “Secondary locations are very suspicious, Jake,” she says before pressing her fingertip onto her tongue.

“We won't go far.”

Lola raises a brow at you and you sigh. “He's annoying but I'm pretty sure he's safe,” you tell her.

Jake smiles; another thing you don’t have to see to know it’s there. You feel that grin just from its power alone.

Standing, you straighten out your skirt, your fingers running down the dark material that flares from mid-waist to mid-thighs. Your belt is purely decorative, with consecutive overlapping chains that wrap around the band of your skirt and a tiny, crescent moon charm that dangles a bit lower than the rest. As you adjust the belt so the charm rests where it is supposed to at your hip, you catch Jake’s fixed stare on your movements.

You don’t know what he’s thinking. You remind yourself that you don’t care.

“I'll be back in a minute, Lo,” you promise. “Gem, do you intend to blink any time soon?”

Gemma doesn’t turn. Jake’s friend has found a bit of boldness and no longer avoids her eyes. “No,” she says, waving you off. “Have fun.”

Jake tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I was thinking the deck since it's on the beach.”

Ignoring his suggestion, you begin to walk in the direction of the front door. He follows into the chill of Evening’s breeze and you suck in a refreshing breath. Was it always so suffocating in there?

“Ok, what do you want?” you ask once you’ve walked far enough to avoid blocking the entrance.

Jake remains a good six feet from you. His hands haven’t left his pockets. “To apologize, for starters,” he says.

“For?”

“Bothering you the other night.”

“So you decided to bother me again tonight?”

Jake’s lips part to respond, but he pauses, mouth snapping shut. Glancing down at the gravel by your boots, his brow pinches as his actions sink in. “Ok, ‘bother’ wasn't really what I was going for a second time around, but in hindsight–”

“If that was just your starter, what’s the rest?”

He looks at you with a tick of false innocence that rapidly dies under the weight of mischievousness, and you prepare yourself for what he’s about to deliver. “Maybe I shouldn’t say,” he teases, smile budding, teeth showing. “Maybe I should prolong the suspense.”

You fold your arms over your chest. “Do you remember what I said about wasting my time?”

“Something about my ego suffering the consequences,” he replies. “Even though you’ve had my ego in a choke-hold since you threw around that whole ‘I’ve noticed you but you’ve never noticed me’ thing.”

That, you didn’t expect. You didn’t expect him to remember everything you’d said, or care. But neither did you expect him to approach you after that night, so you suppose he’s full of surprises. You're just not sure if you like them.

“Oh?”

He nods. “Yea, that one…that one was a thinker, for sure. Haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, actually.”

“Why?”

He sighs and drops eye contact. Like it’s too hard to maintain. Like he’s ashamed or confused or contemplating, or all three. Then he wets his bottom lip with a dart of his tongue; he draws that lip between his teeth, biting down; he barely shakes his head before he rejoins your gazes.

“Because I look at you now, and I don’t understand how it was possible,” he admits.

Your breath hitches. Your heartbeat trips, tumbling over itself, and you will it to find its proper pace before you dare open your mouth.

“Anyway,” Jake says to fill the gap that was meant for your response, “I also wanted to ask you out. On a date.”

You blink hard. Long beats snail along as you process the lunacy of that statement. “Has anything I've said to you indicated that I would ever agree to a date?”

He shrugs. “No, but it was either try once more and see if I have a chance with you, or don't try at all.”

For a man you’ve witnessed succeed in his every attempt at wooing women until you, you won’t deny that what he’s doing is gutsy and, you suppose, unworthy of being shamed. He’s resilient, determined, and you have great respect for perseverance, but in this case, it's not sufficient to rearrange your perception of him.

“Do you even know my name?” you ask. “I never told you.”

He smiles; not broadly, not boastfully, but gently, sweetly, as if reliving a memory. “I asked Penny after you left that night,” he tells you. “It’s beautiful. Suits you.”

Your woven arms tighten, pointed nails digging into your bicep. Don’t shiver, you command your body. Don’t show the tingling chill he just shot up your spine and through your limbs. You try swallowing through the ghost-like grip he suddenly has on your throat. The light grasp of wispy fingers that don’t aim to choke, but simply rest around the column. Possessive but not controlling. Also not really there. And you don’t appreciate the growing strength of his power to touch you without you being within reaching distance.

The problem is, men don’t compliment you. Well, they do, but not like this. They compliment tits and ass and legs and face. They compliment clothes that they imagine ripping off, and makeup they hope they can ruin by the end of the night. Your name doesn’t often come to mind, and the ones who do ask for it, don’t ever use it again. That’s part of why you didn’t give it to Jake when he had asked.

And then he went over your head. Fuck this guy.

“Before you say anything else—I’m willing to earn it.”

Your brows raise halfway up your forehead. “You're willing to earn it,” you repeat. “Why? You don't know me, and I have a feeling you understand that using me to prove some kind of point to yourself or your friends will only get you castrated.”

“I wouldn't have guessed castration, specifically, but that does seem in character,” he says.

He steps closer. His arm moves toward you, hand prepared to plant itself on your forearm, but at the last second, he thinks better of it and drops that limb back to his side. His fingers ball into a fist that tightens and loosens and tightens and loosens. He doesn’t know that you see him doing it, and then it stops. “Look, when you said that you're not my type, you were right. You were right. You're not right anymore. You only weren't my type because I'd never seen you before.” He takes a breath. “But I know I could swear that up and down, right here, right now, and you wouldn't believe me; not really; maybe not at all. So I have to prove it, don't I? I have to earn it.”

He seems to have forgotten that you know, and have known, who he is for months. Observation reveals more about a person than getting to know them firsthand. The Observed can’t pick and choose what they share with you to aid their desires and goals. In their cluelessness, they lose all defenses, all illusions, and Jake is no exception.

You’ve watched him pursue and flirt and conquer. You’ve watched him in the aftermath of the pursuing and flirting and conquering. You’ve watched his strategy of radiating cockiness to draw them in. There are the laughs, the winks, the tamed touches that bring out blushes, all of which join together until it’s the woman—and all of the near carbon copies of that woman—who takes the lead, pulling him into the bathroom or onto the back deck or out the front door. He’s tricky like that, but you’re not easily tricked.

“Have you considered that maybe you are not my type?” you ask.

“I have, actually. It was a very troubling thirty seconds.”

“Thirty seconds of consideration?” Your head tilts. “Is that all?”

Jake acknowledges the offense you’ve taken. He doesn’t apologize but the disappointment in himself is palpable enough to satisfy you. But then he says, “Would you have come out here if you weren't attracted to me?”

And now you’re disappointed in yourself, because, no, you wouldn’t have come with him if you weren’t attracted to him. Attraction and curiosity convinced you more than his words, and therein lies the problem. One problem. One of many.

“I shouldn't have.”

“But you did,” he says. His tone is low but it packs the punch of an exclamation point. You’re going to be hearing it for days. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

You sigh and let your arms unweave, falling at your sides. “I…” you begin, but you shake your head. You need to say this right. “Attraction is basic. It’s human. It’s all up in our personal space at all times. If that counted for anything, I’d be dating half of the usuals in the bar.”

You know the same goes for him. He finds a new woman to be attracted to whenever he walks into the Hard Deck and you’d be hard-pressed to believe that doesn’t extend to every room he enters. So you leave it at that and twist on your heel to head back inside.

You hear a crunch of gravel as he takes a step after you. “Will you at least think about it? Please.”

Not stopping to answer, you reach for the handle of the door. “Have a good night, Jake,” you toss over your shoulder.

Being inside the bar does not stop your heart from thumping or your mind from racing through a jumble of thoughts that are no easier untangled than the voices around you, and it’s too much. So to avoid exhausting yourself, you shove those thoughts aside in favor of directing your attention to more important things, like one-third of your trio missing from the booth.

“Where’s Gem?”

Lola nods her head and you follow.

Across the bar, Gemma has Jake’s dark-haired friend leaning against the wall, her palms braced on his chest. One of his hands rests at her waist and the other is at the side of her neck just under her jaw, his fingers hidden by the curtain of her hair. There’s an oddness to their kissing. It is very non-Gemma kissing. They kiss freely like no one is around, but it’s not an attack of teeth and lip tugging or sloppy tongues; it’s slow, sensual. It clashes with the room.

“I was gone for five minutes,” you say.

Lola shrugs. “She only needed four.”

---

tags: @kmc1989 @wkndwlff @dempy @sagittarius-flowerchild @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @averyhotchner @rosedurin @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @ssa-sadboi @buckysteveloki-me @whatislovevavy @dreamlandcreations @memoriesat30 @harrysgothicbitch @yvonneeeee @gg-trini

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin x goth girl!reader #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic

204 notes · View notes

spooky-bunnys · 2 months

Note

Hello! well first request and i'm nervous but anyway do you accept an omegaverse? how about bonten with an omega only he is goth like a vampire (if you want you can add something else or maybe a pregnancy if you wish :) ) thanks! (and sorry for my bad english, i'm not english speaking)

Title: Gothic Mood Swings

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers

Pairing: Bonten x Pregnant Goth Omega Male Reader

Warnings: Swearing, and mentions of punishment (not like that y'all)

The guard gulped as the phone rang. Nervous sweat sliding down his face. He knew this was a bad idea but they didn't know what else to do! Soon a click was heard. Nothing was said for a moment until deep voice was heard, "Speak." The guard nervously cleared his throat. "Sir. He closed himself in his coffin and we can't get him to come out."

There was a sigh from the other end. "What happened?" "He tried hanging upside down but got caught up in his morning sickness and got sick everywhere. He then got hungry and searched the cabinets and after not finding what he was looking for, closed himself into his coffin instead of laying in his nest." There was a humming sound and the sound of papers being shuffled.

"Alright we'll be back soon. So keep an eye on him until we get back. Understood?" The guard nodded and quickly agreed as the call ended. The guard let out a sigh of relief. Knowing he won't get too punished for calling his boss. I mean it was for the safety of their Omega and future pup. So hopefully the punishment won't be too bad.

Mikey ran a hand through his hair letting out a deep sigh. He had so much paperwork that needed to be done, but his Omega and pup were more important to him. Mikey carefully got up and texted the others to let them know they were needed at home.

On they're way home they made a few pitstops. One at a nesting store. Then next stop was at a store their Omega frequently visited. Finally they stopped at a restaurant their pregnant Omega has been eating so much of recently.

As they arrived at the mansion the pack lives in. Multiple guards met them outside. As they bowed the Bonten members made their way inside. When inside they took off their coats and shoes. Knowing their Omega worked hard on cleaning the mansion. They didn't want a repeat of last time.

Last time Takeomi has came in with muddy and wet shoes. Completely ruining the freshly cleaned floors. Their Omega had been so upset, he literally USED Takeomi to clean the floor. Like we're talking, used Takeomi as a mop to clean the floor. While it aroused most of the Alpha's, the others had be slightly horrified how their tiny Omega used a fully grown MAN, to mop the floors.

They didn't want a repeat of that. Especially Takeomi. After that they put away their shoes so nobody gets hurt. Mikey started up the stairs and the others quickly followed. Wanting to comfort their Omega. They know he's having a rough time with the whole pregnancy. It's been taking a huge toll on them all, but especially on him.

As they arrived to the door seperating the pack from their Omega, they could smell the annoyed pheromones coming from inside. Mikey shared a look with the ones holding bags for their Omega and motioned them forward. Kakucho, Mochi, and Rindou stepped forward.

Mikey carefully opened the door. Making sure they were all releasing calming pheromones. As they all entered there was a slient shuffle coming from the closed coffin in the middle of the room. Sanzu stepped forward and tapped a small rhythm on the lid of the coffin.

A few seconds passed beofre the coffin cracked open. A pair of (E/C) eyes peered through the crack. Sanzu bent down and chuckled. "Alright baby. Come on out. We know your upset. So we got you some stuff." He montions to the others who are holding bags.

The coffin fully opened and a gorgeous male with mid length (H/C) hair carefully sat up pouting. His (E/C) eyes sweeping past his Alpha's. He nods towards Kakucho who carefully placed the bag beside the coffin. Knowing it was warm and didn't want it hurting the Omega.

(Name) smelled the bag and hummed then carefully removed the food. He opened the box and smiled at the spicy yaskisoba inside. Then Mochi stepped forward and set and another bag by the coffin. (Name) carefully opened the bag and was welcomed with a fuzzy black blanket covered in his Alphas sents. (Name) smiles brightly and shoves his face into it taking a deep breath.

Finally Rindou reaches into his bag and held out a stuffed bat. (Name) perked up and quickly snatched it and finally started releasing happy pheromones. The others relaxed and smiled at the happy pregnant Omega. (Name) kissed Rindou's cheek and started purring happily.

Maybe they won't punish the guard for interrupting them today. Since they got to see their Omega happy and purring again. It feels like its been a while. After a few bites of food (Name) turned glaring at the now relaxed Alphas. "Now which one of you assholes has me always craving SPICY FOOD?!" They slumped. It was nice while it lasted.

#male reader #x male reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x male reader #male omega reader #poly! bonten #bonten x male reader #bonten kokonoi #bonten #bonten mikey #bonten sanzu #bonten ran #bonten rindou #bonten mochi #bonten kakucho #bonten takeomi

236 notes · View notes

stories4thepack · 6 months

Text

The vampire bites the Physic

Wednesday Addams x vampire!reader

(Requested)

Warnings: blood, injury, stabbing (yeah!)

“No!”

You scream, the power of your words scratching the back of your throat like it were the dagger thrusted into Wednesday.

you can smell the blood before you see it

Crackstone twists the blade with a grin. You can hear the sickening tear of Wednesday’s flesh. Your want to run to her side, protect your girlfriend. Yet, the way your mouth waters at the scarlet, stained, school-shirt reveals how much of a danger you are right now.

Laurel Gates strides over to you, a silver dagger in her hand. You know she is going to kill you, plunge it into your heart while wearing that cruel, psychotic smirk.

“Stop,”

Crackstone hisses, his semi-rotten voice box doing little to aid his speech

“Let the leach finish of Goody Addams. “

The cuffs around your wrists are suddenly released, causing you to fall onto your knees. As well as smelling Wednesday’s, you feel your own blood flowing down the side of your head. A result of the beating you had suffered. You hear Wednesday slip to the floor, amazed she hadn’t yet screamed out.

“Bye Bye Wednesday.”

Laurel giggles, tailing Crackstone out of the Crypt. You crawl to the goths side, ignoring the way your chest burns with hunger. When you reach her, you lean against the pillar, exhausted by the pain from your own attack and the hunger flowing through your veins.

“Your going to be alright Wednesday.”

“Is your vampiric Vision impaired? I’m dying!”

You attempt to chuckle but the hunger that is making your vision scarlet and tightening your throat, makes the sound come out as more of a hiss. You’ve learnt to push the hunger down, and continue on with the day, but with more and more of Wednesdays blood flowing from the wound, it becomes increasingly difficult.

“I should put pressure on it, right?”

You manage to force out of your mouth, the words strangled but hopefully understandable. Wednesday doesn’t say anything.

You quickly crawl to your knees, placing your hands over the wound and pushing down hard. The goths face scrunches up in momentary pain. You smile, trying to help as much as you can

but then you look down.

Her blood flows over your fingers, decorating your skin a dark, red. You breath catches in your burning chest, your eyes fading into a dark, deep scarlet. You can not hear Wednesday speaking to you, trapped in your own hungry thoughts, before her hand wraps weakly around yours.

“I can read your face as if you were one of my murder novels, I find your intentions humorous.”

She mumbles, a tiny smile on her face, which is somehow growing paler than it usually is. You look back to the wound, your fingers have unintentionally curved slightly into it.

“Proceed Y/L/N.”

Wednesday mutters, your head snapping towards her face once more. You want to argue, to resist but the single, weak, curt nod she gives you is enough to make your shove away any form of doubt.

You carefully lean forward, your heart flutters as Wednesday lifts her head slightly, allowing you full access to her throat. You brush her messy hair away, unable to fully understand what you are doing. That is, until your lips press against her cool skin. You can feel her heart beat slowing with every second and suddenly, you know what you need to do.

You pull away, ignoring the confused look on Wednesdays face at your action. You place both hands on the Handel of the blade, forcing back your hunger as much as possible.

“This is going to hurt.”

You say, before yanking the dagger out of her body. You hear her hiss, see her eyes close and perhaps imagine a tear hiding beneath her eye lid. You bring your wrist to your mouth, tearing your fangs hastily into it before bringing it over her wound.

You allow a few drops of your blood to fall into hers before bringing your wrist up to her mouth.

“Are you going to turn me.”

You shake your head, you would need to drain her completely for that, and have a few candles and a spell book around. Wednesday manages to open her mouth slightly, enough to allow the blood from your own bite to fall into her mouth. You pull away, crouching beside her as her heart slows to a stop-

Suddenly she sits up, gasping for air. She looks at the palm of her hand before feeling her forehead, searching for the wounds your blood has now healed.

“Your a vampire, how is this possible?”

“The curse of being awesome Wednesday.”

You mutter, lying back against the pillar as Wednesday runs out, going to save Nevermore

———————————————————————

“You alright Wednesday?” You ask, watching as she paces around in her empty side of the room. Her stuff is still gone and her bed has been made with plain white sheets, nothing smells like her anymore, it feels so unfamiliar. She continues to pace…

“Wednesday, Crackstone is gone! Laurel is dead! What has gotten your pigtails in a twist?”

She pauses briefly to throw a sharp glare at you before continuing her pacing. You sigh, realising that calling her name again was useless. So you stand up, walk over to her and place both your hands firmly on her shoulders

“What are you doing Y/n?”

She demands, turning slowly with a scowl on her face. She is met with one of your cocky grins.

“Come one Wednesday! What is bothering you?”

Your voice bounces with playfulness, an attempt at calming the obviously adrenaline rushed girl. Wednesday pauses and you can see the way her jaw tightens as she decides whether to tell you the truth

“Y/n”

She finally says, looking up slightly to meet your bright eyes. There was something missing, she noticing, realising that she disliked the lack of burning, scarlet hunger. There was something about that side of you, a killer, someone who could match how dangerous she herself was, that she found incredibly beautiful

“Last night, at the Crypt-“

“If your gonna ask how I healed you, I honestly have no idea myself. Somewhere down the line I had a wizard for a great, great grandfather or something.”

Wednesday waits until you are finished, deciding the best way to ask is directly (as usual)

“Would you have bitten me.”

It sounds more like a statement but the words are enough to make you freeze. You hate the way your eyes snap to her throat, and you know for certain that she saw the short action.

“Is my blood that tempting for you?”

She asks, stepping closer, deep eyes never leaving yours. You swallow nervously, your hands feeling suddenly very sweaty.

“Yeah, you are.”

Another step, her head tilts upward for you. Instinctively, you brush her pigtail over her shoulder, finger carefully trailing her jugular. Wednesday watches as your glowing eyes darken into that scarlet and she adores the way they look into her own.

“Sorry, I should have my sunglasses o-“

She cuts you off by pressing her lips to your, the gentleness of the action surprises you but soon you are kissing back, hand grasping her throat as if it were a life line.

You pull her by her shoulder, guiding her over to her bed, making her sit down on the edge of it. You decide to sit behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I assume you are going to bite then?”

She questions, her usually monotone voice sounder so much sweeter now. Your lips press against her cool skin, feeling the light shiver that ripples through her body at your touch. You can both hear and feel her heart beating and feel the warmth of her blood. It is all too tempting

You bite down, fangs breaking through the soft skin as if it were nothing. You feel Wednesday stiffen and lean backwards into you as you begin to drink. Her blood the most incredible you had ever tasted. Your hand grasps the other side of her head, tilting her further to the side to give you better access. No other blood would compare to this, no one’s and nothings.

When you finally tear your head from her throat, she turns around, kissing you again and no doubt tasting her blood on your lips.

You fall back against her bed, head sinking into her pillow. Your surprised, nearly shocked when Wednesday lies beside you, your hands touching each other lightly.

“We are going to do this again? Right?”

She doesn’t hesitate with her answer, and moves her head a centimetre to look into those scarlet eyes once more

“Yes, Mon Cher, we will”

#Wednesday x vampire #jenna ortega #wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair #fanfiction #wednesday addams #vampire #requests #Vampire Wednesday #vampire bites

316 notes · View notes

homunculus-argument · 11 days

Note

hey there! this sounds like a bit of a silly question, but as a trans guy, you’re one of the few trans people i’ve been following almost since i joined tumblr, so based on your other anon ask and answer i figured i’d pop in and ask if you have any advice? if you want to answer, ofc :) — i foresee this being a bit long, so i totally get if not

so i’m also a trans guy, but i haven’t been able to take any steps toward medical transitioning before since i live with my parents. but i’ll move out soon, and i still can’t decide if i should take any of these steps even once i do. i’ve never felt like i particularly wanted to medically transition (i don’t really care about how my body looks + i’ve never really cared about changing any of it), but i would like to be seen a guy — i don’t mind if not so by strangers, but maybe so by like, my friends. but i can’t help but feel like i’d be laughed at for wanting that — i’m not naturally androgynous or masculine looking to others and i have never been mistaken for a guy, because i have really long hair, d cups, and curves. and without medically transitioning, i also kinda feel like i’m… betraying the trans community, since i’m not really putting the effort into my transition and so i’m just ‘pretending’, even though i do know i’m not.

so my question would be: as a trans person who has transitioned, socially and medically, do you think people are more understanding than i think they are currently? do you know of any trans people who don’t want to medically transition, and do you think it’s possible to live fulfilled that way? or even: do you think it would be easier for someone like me to just live a lie? i usually tell people i’m a lesbian, because they definitely would not look at me and assume ‘straight guy’, but also, as a trans person who doesn’t want to medically transition, i’m just always worried that i won’t be taken seriously. i feel like your experience of being trans and probably interacting with the community is much more than mine, which is why i ask this last one — i would try being open myself, but again, i’m still living with my parents unfortunately.

I'll be honest I don't actually really know much "community" save for former art school classmates. I've only known one trans person irl who chose not to medically transition - at the time, Finland's trans law was still shitty and required sterilisation for legal sex change, and all that. She didn't want kids or anything, but refused to engage in the process as her own little personal civilian protest. I don't want to paint some caricature picture of some Sharp Dommy Tall Scary Goth Trans Anarchist, but I was deeply impressed by the way she didn't do a single thing to try to seem smaller, softer, or in any way submissive or docile to be ~feminine~ the right, socially accepted way.

She wasn't just taller than most men but usually the tallest person in the room, and she stood out in a crowd of cis women like a crane in a chicken coop - a bird just as much as they are, but a different kind of bird. And I remember thinking that I could never do that, being so unflinching and unhesitant about standing out in the crowd because assimilating and muting yourself is beneath your dignity.

Honestly, I don't know what to tell you about being openly trans without transitioning medically, save for that it takes more guts than being able to just go stealth. I had physical dysphoria about the way my body was, and was desperate to get top surgery just for the sake of my own physical comfort, and I like the convenient anonymity of being able to just be Just Some Guy who doesn't attract anyone's interest or curiosity.

It's a smart move to not come out to your parents before you're out of their house and not relying on them for anything - this is something everyone should use their own judgement for, but I stress it to every queer kid to not take the risk if there's any chance that they'll react poorly while they still have power over you. But living your whole life in the closet - "living a lie" is a good way to put it - will corrode you from the inside.

It's better to live in peace with yourself and against the world, than in peace with the world against yourself. There is absolutely nothing in your power that you could do to change the minds of people who have already decided that they don't respect you, and if they try telling you that they would, if you only met their approved criteria, they are lying. That's bait they're dangling in front of you, and there's no "earning" the respect of such people.

Stay true to yourself and be good to people, and you'll have the respect of people who are capable of respecting you. Don't waste your time and energy on people who won't respect you, every thought and effort you spare them is wasted on them.

134 notes · View notes

starry-eyedblog · 3 months

Text

ahh i’m so sorry @angelofacidx!! i accidentally posted this ask before it was ready and had to delete it so your ask is gone :(( i hope i did a good job and y'know i had to make simon a tad pathetic, just for you <3

warnings/tags: simon x fem goth reader, awkward simon, flirting, teasing, kissing

when simon caught a glimpse of you one night at the pub he frequented with his mates, he was instantly captured by your beauty. usually, his type wasn't goth girls but there was something just so intriguing about you and your style that he found himself unable to look away.

when his friend johnny saw he was staring off, uninterested in the conversation, he followed his friends eyes and saw what had his full attention. "got a wee crush have you, si?" he chuckles, playfully nudging at his arm.

"oh fuck off," simon grumbled back, thankful for his black face mask covering his flushed cheeks. then, another friend was peeping up. "not your usual type mate. gonna go talk to her? or just oogle all night like a dickhead?" gaz had laughed with a raised eyebrow, taking a sip of his pint.

simon shrugged off his friends and left his booth, walking over to the bar where you were sat on a stool, talking away to a friend. he slipped in behind you, akwardly coughing to catch your attention which worked.

you spun around in your stool, tilting your head back to take in the absolute mammoth of a man stood in front of you. "can i help you?" you had asked, tilting your head slightly with an almost annoyed expression and simon felt his face flush warm.

"i uh- i was wonderin' if i could buy you a drink?" he asked, trying to avoid staring at you too much incase it come off as rude. in reality he was soaking up your outfit and makeup, enjoying all the details his eyes could find.

you laugh softly and with a smile, you accept the offer. "course you can, i'll have whatever you're having." you say, leaning in a bit closer to him so he can hear you over the general chit chat filling the busy bar.

simon nods, watching the way you lean towards him. his hands grow sweaty and his eyes frantically try to avoid yours. he quickly orders two rum and cokes, paying for them with a tenner. he takes his change, watching the bartender pour the drinks and place the glasses down in front of him.

he says a quick thanks before handing you a glass, "thanks." you say simply, bringing the glass up to your lips to take a long sip. as you place the drink down onto the bar, you look up at him with a questioning look.

"gonna ask me any questions or?" you tease with a smile and simon feels his heart hammering against his ribcage. "oh yeah, sorry uhm. so what's your name? that's a good place to start yeah?" he chuckles, hooking his mask under his chin and taking a big sip of his drink to try settle his nerves.

simon was someone who was confident in his looks, knew how intimidating he was with his height and old scars. you'd think he was a womanizer, but in all honestly he got shy around pretty girls and always managed to make an arse out of himself.

you laugh and nod, "yeah that's a good place to start. maybe next you can ask what my job is?" you tease with a cheeky smile before taking pity on him and telling him your name before asking for his.

simon answers back with his name, complimenting how pretty yours is before trying to move on and ask more questions that aren't very surface level.

more drinks are bought throughout the night and you seem to stay by his side, enjoying how flustered he gets around you. the more tipsy simon gets, the more he's unable to hide his fascination about your style.

"so, goth huh? i may have uh been a bit of an emo when i was younger in all honestly," he admits and you bark out a laugh, body tipping back and simon hopes to engrave that sound into his mind to remember for the rest of his life.

you raise a brow, "that so? just trying to imagine you with piercings and eyeliner. paints a pretty image honestly." you say before leaning forward, taking one hand and slowly dragging it up his arm while staring into his eyes.

once simon realises what you are doing, his face flushes pink and he feels his heart race. "had to take those out for military." he murmurs, unable to hold eye contact for long.

"military? makes sense now with all that muscles." you hum, giving a gentle squeeze to his bicep. "i've been like 'this' since i was a teenager, first got into the music through my parents and then discovered how much i enjoyed the style and makeup. haven't looked back since, brings in a lot of unwanted attention though. guys asking me to be their goth mommy on nights out or even dates, like what the fuck?" you shake your head, laughing with him with your hand still resting on his bicep.

"guys actually ask you that? fuckin' hell and i thought i was bad at flirting." simon bites, throwing back the rest of his drink before placing the empty glass onto the bar.

you laugh loudly at his words, shaking your head before finishing your own drink. "trust me, you're one of the best so far. little shy though eh?" you tease, giving another squeeze to his arm before standing up.

once you are standing up straight, you turn to your friend and explain your plan to her. she laughs and smiles, gently smacking you in a playful way before agreeing.

you turn back around and go up onto your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his ear, "i'm going out for a smoke, if you'd like to join me." you whisper, pulling back to stare up at him.

silently simon nods and follows you outside, glaring at any men who even glance in your direction while you make it out the bar. he is under the impression it will just be a friendly smoke together but oh boy was he wrong.

as soon as the both of you are outside, you are dragging him down a dark alleyway around the corner. your arms wrap around his neck and pull him down until your lips are just brushing. "can i kiss you?" you ask while looking into his eyes, hoping he’ll say yes.

simon is caught off guard, his eyes widening as you easily pull him down closer to you. “su-sure.” he mutters before he feels your lips pressing to his in a slow kiss. his arms gently wrap around your waist, bringing his body flush to yours as he deepens the kiss.

after a minute or so, the two of you pull away panting quietly. you giggle softly as you look at him and simon pulls a confused expression. “what you laughing at?” he grumbles, pink flushing his cheeks.

“a bit of my black lipstick is smudged on your lips big guy.” you smile cheekily, bringing your thumb to your mouth to lick before gently swiping at simon’s face to get rid of the evidence. he smiles down at you as he feel you wiping at the lipstick left behind.

he then works up the courage to ask the big question. “so, will i be able to get your number?” he utters, holding your waist a little tighter as he stares down at you. the question makes you chuckle, your head nodding. “yes you definitely can have my number.” you answer, smiling happily up at him.

221 notes · View notes

dannyphantom-zero · 4 months

Text

Doctor Danny Chapter 5 Stay-cation

Jason glanced at the couch as he made breakfast. Huddled inside a blanking was Danny with nothing but his pouting face exposed.

Jason shook his head. The doctor would run himself ragged at this point. Getting all upset because he couldn't go to work.

Danny was gradually getting hungrier by the second. Jason walked over with two plates with eggs and bacon on them.

"Made some breakfast" Jason said circling the plate near Danny's face. The smell was making Danny pissed off. He wanted to eat it but he didn't like the way Jason was so smug about it.

Eventually Danny broke down and had to open up his blanket to receive the plate.

"How is it?"

Danny scowled at Jason, "it's good" he muttered before shoving more food in his mouth and chewing angrily.

Jason couldn't believe how cute this doctor could be.

"Try some of this" Jason said handing Danny a glass.

Danny looked at Jason hesitantly. Danny brought the cup up to his lips and took a big sip.

A sweet liquid filled Danny's mouth, it left a tart aftertaste.

"What is this?" He asked looking at Jason with stars on his eyes.

"It's wine that I made when I visited a brewery a while ago" Jason picked up a napkin and gently wiped Danny's mouth.

Danny was too embarrassed to think.

"D-do you want some ectoplasm?!" He blurted out before thinking.

"If you want to, yes"

Jason was acting strange, why was he being shy and complacent all odt he sudden??

Danny crawled across the couch to Jason. He put his hands on Jason's shoulder to steady himself and bit Jason's neck.

A calm feeling washed over Jason as he closed his eyes. He felt disconnected and tingly. Danny was the opposite. Whenever he did this he felt like he was drinking pure energy.

"Mm" Jason's eyebrows furrowed. Danny let go.

"Better?"

Jason opened his eyes.

"Yeah, thanks"

Jason and Danny watched a few movies. Danny was talking about a character when his phone interrupted him.

Danny glanced at it casually. His eyes grew big.

"SAM!" Danny squeaked as he answered.

"Hey Danny, my band is performing tonight at the mike bar, you know the one right?"

"The usual one right?"

"Yeah, anyway we lost the lead singer so to a sore throat and we desperately need a replacement. I know how good you can sing and you play guitar so, please help me!"

Danny peered at Jason.

"Sure, I'll be right there" Danny hung up.

"Where are you going?"

"A bar nearby, I have to help out a friend"

Jason stood up and grabbed an extra jacket for Danny.

"Jason? Your coming too"

"Your still on the run remember"

Danny smacked Jason's shoulder.

"Don't say it like that! You make it sound like I'm running from the law!" Danny chastised.

Jason shrugged, "Batman isn't easy to shake off"

Danny crossed his arms.

"I already knew that, but I don't think he'll randomly bother me. He's gotta have a life too right?"

Danny got a bad feeling about the face Jason was making.

"You'd be surprised" Jason groaned.

They made it to the bar without running into to any issues. Danny stepped in and started looking around. This bar has a rustic vibe to it before but now it looked like a goth den.

Maybe it was because Sam's band was performing today but there seems to be a lot more goths than usual.

"Danny!" Sam exclaimed hugging him.

"Hey Sam, how have you been, it's been so long"

Sam grinned confidently and pointed her thumb towards her band mates who were setting up.

"My bands been doing pretty well"

Sam punched Danny's arm, "but hey can't believe my little delinquent is a famous doctor now"

Danny waved his hands.

"Sam! Don't talk about that on public!"

Jason put a hand on Danny's shoulder.

"Oh, who are you?" Sam asked.

"He's a friend of mine" Jason growled.

"R-right, Jason and I became friends recently."

Sam grabbed Danny's arm, "well sorry Jared but I'm going have to steal Danny for a bit"

Sam gave Jason a cold look, "not that it's really stealing since he isn't yours"

Danny send an apologetic look at Jason before being dragged off. Sam took Danny to the male bathroom.

"Here, change" she ordered thrusting clothes at him.

Danny didn't have time to object.

His eyes bugged out when he put on the clothes.

"What kind of clothes are these?!" He exclaimed.

He was wearing a black button shirt that was open in the back with an x strap, it also had three spikes jutting out on each shoulder. His pants were black jeans with rips and chains hanging along the side.

His shoes had been swapped for boots and on his hands he wore fingerless, fake leather gloves.

"You look almost perfect!" Sam said once Danny stepped out feeling dazed.

"Sit and stay still"

Danny sat on the stool and let Sam apply mascara to his eyes. It deepened his eyes, making him look like a real goth. A hot one at that.

"Your stage name should be...."

"How about Runner?" Danny suggested.

"Huh,Runner? Sure I guess it works"

Danny helped set up his mike. Sam let him use the spare electric guitar they had.

"Alright, you guys ready?" Sam asked, the band mates shouted in unison.

Jason waited impatiently for the Danny to make an appearance.

The band started up and Danny stood up to the mike.

"3,2,1-"

The band started playing, Jason watched Danny sing and play. He seemed so different from the doctor Jason knew.

The crowd was cheering as the band played. It had a pop rock vibe to it, the songs were catchy and Jason had to admit he liked the band.

Danny smiled and waved after the band finished their last song.

"Let me help you pack up" Danny said as he stuffed the equipment in Sam's bus.

"Thank you so much Danny! Who knew you still had in you!" Sam said laughing.

"Danny"

He turned to see Jason standing a few paces away.

"Hey Jason"

"You were really good up there"

Danny grinned.

"Really?"

"When you sang o felt my heart racing"

Danny laughed, "your funny Jason, but really it was all Sam. Her band is really great"

Sam playfully ruffled Danny hair.

"Yeah that's right, I'm awesome I know" Sam boasted.

"We should probably head back" Jason said.

"Head back, did you come from the same place?"

Danny seemed flustered.

"Yeah, Danny spent the night with me"

Danny was quick to clarify that he apartment had been broken into and Jason let him spend the night.

Though he could tell by Sam's face that she was thinking they were romantically involved.

When Danny got back he plopped onto the couch.

"You hungry?" Jason asked.

"A little" Danny said yawning.

'cute' Jason thought.

They ate and Danny passed out soon after.

The next morning Jason woke up to a note from Danny saying he had gone to work.

Jason had troed texting Danny alter that night but had gotten no response.

This went on for a couple days and later when Dick met up with Jason he could tell something was wrong.

"Hey, you look way too depressed, even for you"

Jason just drank.

"Come on, let it out"

Jason clenched his fist.

"I think I made someone mad"

Dick raised an eyebrow. Jason made people mad every day, there had to be more to this.

"This person started avoiding me, isn't answering my calls or texts and hasn't come back to my apartment-" Jason said too much.

"Ooh, romance problems huh?"

Jason groaned, "I wish, we aren't even dating. I've never been more frustrated"

"Maybe this person is just really busy, did you seem to be on good terms?"

"Yeah, I mean, he's a doctor so I guess he could just be busy but..."

Dick eyes lit up, a doctor? And a male one at that. Could it be-

"Do you have a crush on the famous doctor Fenton?"

Jason blushed furiously.

"It's not a crush!"

So he did.

"Why don't you visit him in person if your so worried?"

Jason sighed, "I don't want to bother him, besides I don't think he likes me back"

"There's only one way to find out you know"

And that's why Jason was currently waiting outside of Gotham General. He wasn't sure how long he had waited but a tap on his shoulder jolted him out of his thoughts.

"Jason, why are you here?"

He shrugged and turned his head away so Danny couldn't see him blushing.

"You weren't answering my calls or texts so I came to see you myself"

"Ah" that's right, Jason was a stalker. How could Danny forget.

"Right well I should probably get going" Danny said as he opened his car door.

Jason shut it and didn't take his hand off the door.

"Jason?"

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you, I'm just tired and I want to go home" Danny said turing away.

"I'll take you" Jason said.

In one deft movement Jason had picked up the lanky doctor and put him in the passenger side.

"What?" Danny said confused.

"You said your tired, so I'll drive"

Danny looked at Jason's face, he seemed anxious.

"H-hey, this isn't the way to my apartment." Danny said.

"Your apartment isn't safe, I'll take you to mine"

"What? Why? It's not your business if my apartments not safe"

"Your my friend Danny, I don't want you to get hurt"

"This isn't the way a friend acts!" Danny said. Jason had stopped at a red light giving Danny the perfect window to escape.

He unbuckled and slipped from the car. He started running. Jason had been acting weird, too weird. If I kept up Danny wasn't sure what he might do and he was afraid to push Jason away.

They were just friends! He really didn't want to make Jason uncomfortable but now everything was ruined.

Jason clenched his teeth. He found a secure place and parked Danny's car.

He made Danny run away! He was stupid!

Jason did his best tracking down Danny. Finally he spotted someone walking alone.

"Danny!" The person turned their head and it almost looked like they were crying.

Suddenly he started running again.

Jason caught up to him and grabbed him from behind holding him in a tight hug.

"Why are you running from me?" Jason asked in hurt pleading tone.

"Because-" Danny suddenly cut off, "batman" he said weakly.

"Batman?" Then Jason saw him.

"Crap, come on" Jason said tugging Danny with him as they ran, wearing in between stores.

They ended up on the roof of a quick-mart.

"Did we lose him?" Danny asked panting.

"Yeah I think-"

"No"

Jason fired his grappling hook, at the same time Danny almost tripped. Before they knew it, they were trapped, tangled up together and hanging off the side of the building.

"Shit" Jason said softly.

Bruce pulled them up and Jason untangled himself from Danny.

"Can't you just let the poor man go?" Jason asked.

Danny sighed and stepped up.

"It's alright Jason, I'll take responsibility for my actions."

Danny held out his hands to be cuffed.

"I'm not taking you to jail" Batman said.

Danny dropped his arms, "huh? Your not?"

"Your not?" Jason asked.

"No. However Jason and I seem to need have a talk."

"Then why were tracking Danny down"

"Your always together"

Jason was taken aback at Bruce's abruptness.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Come to the manor, well discuss there"

Jason cursed after the bat had left.

"What a dick seriously, how dare he do that to you!"

"It's really fine Jason, come on. Let's go, he's probably waiting for you"

Jason shrugged.

"Just don't jump out the car this time"

Danny promised not too and they drove up to the manor. When they got there, Danny noticed a butler waiting at the entrance.

"Welcome master Jason and his friend"

#dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #dc universe #batman #redhood #fanfiction #jason todd #phandom #Sam Manson

233 notes · View notes

harrywavycurly · 10 months

Text

Fake Husband Eddie Munson AU Part 3: Not Him

Part 1: here

Part 2: here

Tag List: @alana4610 @fluentmoviequoter @alicentswife @vivalasv3gan @goth-cowgirl-03 @yujyujj @slowgabinaburninroom @zaddyskye69 @manda-panda-monium @ckeeks4563 @raven-rust @adaydreamaway08 @nikkisheep @flawiette @knmendiola @corvusskid @itsmadamehydra @saramelaniemoon @winchestergirl87-blog

A/N: I have one more little epilogue type update for this little story and really I’m so glad y’all enjoyed it and I hope you’re happy with the ending ✨

*Eddie just knows he’s not leaving until you forgive him*

“You’re such an idiot.” Eddie mumbles to himself as he rushes up the steps of your front porch. “God how the fuck do I fix this?” He asks himself as he runs a hand over his face and lets out a sigh. “Just tell her the truth.” He whispers as he reaches into the pocket of his work overalls and pulls out the skull ring the bartender tossed at him.

“What exactly is the truth Eddie?” You watch him jump at the sound of your voice and you have to hold back from laughing because he nearly dropped the ring that he held in the palm of his hand. You stand up from your rocking chair so you can lean against the railing crossing your arms over your chest. Eddie turns his body so he’s facing you and he feels his heart drop when he sees your eyes are glossy and red letting him know you had been crying and it was all because of him.

“I’m so sorry.” You roll your eyes as Eddie takes a small step towards you. “I don’t even know how it happened.” Eddie tries to find the words to explain himself but he’s coming up short as he rubs at the back of his neck.

“I can tell you exactly how it happened.” Your voice is harsh as you stare Eddie right in the eyes as you stand up straight and take a step towards him all of a sudden making your front porch feel extremely small. “You got so caught up in whatever you were doing at work that you forgot about me.” Eddie doesn’t miss the way your voice cracks a bit as you speak making him look down at his feet because looking at you when you’re on the verge of tears is too much for him. “Wanna know how I know that? Because this isn’t the first time someone’s forgotten about me because something more important came up …so please tell me Eddie…what was it that got you so distracted?” You watch him lift his head up but instead of looking at you he turns his head so he’s look in the direction of his van that’s parked in your driveway.

“A minivan.” You almost don’t hear him due to his voice being almost a whisper. You just nod your head as you let out a scoff making Eddie look at you and the way your porch light glows he’s able to see a few tears escape your eyes.

“A minivan? Really?” Eddie tries to close the space between the two of you but you’re quick to take a few steps backwards away from him. “I told myself I wouldn’t do this again.” You watch Eddie reach his hand out for you but you just shake your head and cross your arms over your chest.

“Do what?” He asks as he watches you look down at your feet.

“Be with someone who doesn’t care about me or…have time for me.” Eddie feels like his heart is about to break into a million pieces because he knows who you’re comparing him to and it kills him because he knows just how poorly Jason treated you and he doesn’t ever want you to think he’s anything like him.

“I do care about you and I absolutely have time for you.” Eddie needs you to hear him so he bends down so you’ll look him in the eyes. “I am so sorry sweetheart…I swear it won’t happen again…I’m not him okay? I had tonight circled on my calendar and everything.” You just let out a huff as you wipe your eyes.

“Yet you still didn’t show up.” Eddie knows he deserves this, it’s his fault he didn’t make sure he got off work in time to meet you at the Hideout by six, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less seeing you upset at him. “Just go home Eddie.” You whisper as you take a seat back in your rocking chair as you look down at your hands in your lap.

“No.” Is all he says before he’s closing the distance between the two of you and dropping to his knees right in front of you and picking up your right hand in his so he can place his skull ring back on your ring finger. “I’m not going anywhere…call Hopper if you want but I’m not leaving.” You look from the ring to his eyes as he gives you a little smile. “I fucked up but I swear…it won’t happen again and honestly I’d be fine with proving that to you for the rest of our lives but…that seems like a little much to say considering we haven’t even had our first date yet.” You just shake your head as a soft laugh escapes you making Eddie smile.

“Whose fault is that huh?” Your voice is playful as you look back down at the ring on your finger.

“Oh it’s my fault…but I’m here now so…what do you say? Will you let me take you somewhere?” You can hear how hopeful he is and you know in your heart he isn’t anything like Jason and he’d never hurt you intentionally.

“Okay.” Eddie smiles as he brings his hands up to cup your face. “Don’t make me regret this.” You whisper as you lean into his touch and Eddie just nods and leans in to place a kiss to your forehead.

“You won’t..I promise.” You smile as he kisses your cheeks. “Oh and one more thing.” You raise an eyebrow as he drops his hands from your face so he can grab your hand that has his ring on it. “I’m going to need you to stop trying to give this back to me.” He explains as he twirls the skull ring around on your finger a few times.

“Then I need you to stop being an asshole and never make me sit in a bar for two hours waiting for you ever again.” Eddie just nods his head as he places your hands back in your lap.

“Deal.” With that he leans in and places a kiss to your lips making you smile as he pulls away. “Now how about we go have ourselves a first date Mrs. Munson.” You just laugh as he stands up and reaches his hand out to help you out of your chair.

470 notes · View notes

drivergemini · 2 years

Text

i got a goth gf (and she’s hotter than hell) :: e.m.

summary: eddie munson is head over heels for the new girl. how could he not be when she was even more metal than him?

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, swears, goth kid bullying, non supernatural au

word count: 736

eddie munson was a man of many many words. he would ramble on and on about how much he loved dungeons and dragons and how much he hated hawkins. he would never shut up.

that is until a figure strutted through the hawkins high school cafeteria. dressed in a skirt that was pulled up a little too high and a leather jacket over her black tank top. and her boots. jesus christ those black leather boots. they were higher than her kneecaps with an at least 5 inch heel.

hellfire had never seen this man so quiet. his mouth just hung open in absolute awe as his eyes followed her heavily teased black hair.

“hellooooooo,” dustin snapped his fingers in front of eddie’s face. “earth to dipshit. hellooooooo?” eddie snapped out of his trance and looked at the younger boy. “eddie you look like a creep starring at that girl.”

“girl? what girl?” mike said turning his head looking for the source of eddie’s silence. he sees the girl sporting heavily black eyeliner and turns around with wide eyes. “wow eddie you sure know how to pick ‘em.”

he snapped his head towards the freshman boy. “shut up wheeler. what do you know about girls. that right there is an angel from heaven.”

“more like a demon from hell,” mike muttered under his breath.

over the course of a week, she became eddie’s new fixation. he would scramble to lunch to spill the new information he found everyday.

“her name is y/n and she’s a transfer from connecticut.”

“she’s was in an all girl punk band called overgrown graveyard.”

“her parents own starcourt industries.”

this caught the lunch table’s attention. eddie raised an eyebrow and leaned back on his chair. each boy just looked at him with blank expressions.

dustin was the first to speak. “no way in hell you’re going to get a girl like that. no matter how much it looks like KISS threw up on her.”

“oh yeah? watch me henderson.”

it took another week for eddie to be able to find a perfect opportunity to talk to y/n. but when it came, it was perfect.

he honestly thought he was hallucinating. he roamed through the halls of hawkins high before his hellfire meeting started. he could hear a familiar notes coming out of an electric guitar. he listened hard and followed the sound like a bloodhound.

when he reached the band room, he could hear it much clearer. he peeked in through the classroom door window and saw y/n sitting on an amp playing twisted sister. he could hear her soft humming of ‘we’re not gonna take it’ between every riff break.

this was his moment. this was his time. he knocked softy on the wooden door. her head shot up with a confused expression on her face. eddie saw this as a sign to open the door. “twisted sister right?” he scratched the back of his head.

“eddie munson right?” y/n shoots blankly back. he could see very clearly that she has two nose rings on each side and an eyebrow piercing on her left.

“uh yeah. you’re y/n. how did you- do you know who i am?” this was not how he imagined this going.

“eddie munson. 20 year old senior. hellfire clubs founder. and hawkins high school’s outcast freak.” she paused for a moment. “oh and a certified stalker.”

eddie’s breathe caught in his throat. shit he was busted.

her straight face turned into a wide grin. she bursted with laughter at the sight of his eyes go wide. “i was joking! loosen up a little buddy.”

he let out a huge sigh. “so you know i’ve been watching you?” hearing those words come out of his mouth made him realize that maybe he was a bit of a creep.

“yes and if you were a slightly better stalker, you’d know i’ve been asking about you too.” her face was so calm and collected, eddie’s was hot and flushed. he felt like a warm tomato.

he looked at the watch on his wrist. “oh shoot i have to go to my hellfire meeting. do you want to maybe- i don’t know- hang out tonight?”

“sure let me give you my address. come over anytime.” y/n pulled out a notebook and ripped out a page. she scribbled down her address and eddie gentely grabbed it from her hands. as he ran towards the drama room, he looked down at the paper. after her address was a tiny little scribble of a heart.

he has never wanted to leave a meeting more than he did that day. he sprinted to his van, double checking to see if he still had the piece of paper in his pocket.

as he approached your front door, he started to pause. maybe he should’ve bought you flowers or maybe took you out to dinner. too late now he was already involuntarily knocking. he waited about 30 seconds before the front door swung open. “hi i’m looking for y/n?” the girl in front of him furrowed her eyebrows. eddie studdied her face for a few seconds. “oh shit y/n.”

“i don’t know whether to be offended or not,” she laughed a little and gestured him inside. “you caught me as i was cleaning my face so i don’t blame you.” he noticed the smudged out left over mascara under her eyes and the lack of face piercings. “wait here in the living room and i’ll be right back.”

eddie looked around her living room in amazement. it was themed all white and had a crystal chandelier overhead illuminating the room.

“how long have you been starring at the ceiling for?” eddie turns his head and sees y/n standing at the bottom of the stairs. her face completely bare but her piercings back in. all eddie could focus on was her aerosmith shirt.

“your house is massive.” y/n plopped herself down on the couch and motioned eddie to sit with her. he tried his best to not sit too close to her.

“so i heard you’re also in a band?” eddie’s ears perked up slightly. “i was too back in connecticut. i played electric guitar.”

“so do i! my band is called corroded coffin. you should come to one of our shows sometime.” eddie could feel his body untense, this was nice. “i heard you play a little earlier, you’re pretty amazing.”

she shot up and made a motion indicating him to wait. she got up and picked up a beautiful, all black electric guitar from the corner. she plugged it into an amp and turned it on. “could you play for me? it’s only fair because you heard me play earlier.”

eddie’s eyes grow wide, which is something that he did often now. “i- i mean i guess why not?” he grabbed the guitar that he was handed. a little smaller than he was used to but not an issue. as he started playing he felt the beautiful vibration of the strings under his fingers. he looked up and abruptly stopped. y/n sat starring at him with her mouth hung open.

“why did you stop?” she questioned with a confused look on her face.

“you’re just so...” was he going for is? this was really now or never. he was leaning towards never. “beautiful.” oh wow i guess he chose now. y/n could feel her face start to get warm.

“i think you’re beautiful eddie munson.” y/n let out a laugh to relieve the tension.

“let me take you on a date. a real date. i know this great 24 hour diner, we can go now if you’d be down.” he was feeling very bold tonight.

their night ended up in a diner sharing the same side of the booth. sharing a milkshake. and maybe sharing a couple of kisses but that’s for them to tell.

eddie was the first at lunch the next day. he waited for the rest of the group to trickle in as he sat with his feet propped up.

“you look like you have something to say?” lucas questioned looking around at his peers. the rest of the boys nodded their heads in agreement.

“well gentlemen.” eddie stood up and raised his hands in the air before slamming them down. “i got a goth girlfriend. and she’s hotter than hell.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson just needed a goth girlfriend #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things one shot

3K notes · View notes

gay-wh0re-slut · 5 months

Text

Are You Mine?

rhea x reader

content: reader accidentally gets knocked out causing memory loss but rhea is there to help you remember. a cute fluffy lil fic (gonna try first person in a more diary kinda way?? i hope this makes sense and works??!?!)

One Monday Night RAW went a little too crazy. Rhea and Shayna were arguing which ended up becoming a fight. Things got out of hand and chairs were being thrown. Sitting in the front row, I got free tickets because Rhea is my hot goth buff girlfriend, anyway, one of the chairs ended up hitting me in the head. Everyone thought it was planned but it surely was not.

I was immediately out, on the floor. For the sake of television, Rhea and Shayna continued to argue but once the segment was over and the commercial came, the goth wrestler jumped out of the ring and flew to my side.

Medics ran towards me, rolled me out on a gurney and drove me to the local ER. Once the show was done, Rhea drove to the hospital and forced her way towards my bedside. She was crying and holding my hand begging and pleading for me to wake up. I had tubes and lines all over me.

“Is she okay? Will she wake up?” the australian asked the nurse.

“She had a bad hit, so she’ll be out for a while. But everything inside is looking as good,” the nurse sounded dull and tired. I was probably her fiftieth concussion that day.

“So she will wake up?”

“It looks like she will be able to. Considering how hard she was hit, she might have some memory loss, so be prepared for that,” she wrote something on my chart.

“Fuck,” Rhea growled.

The nurse jumped a bit at the muscular woman in her intense makeup and dark clothing. She was scared of her when she walked in but it wasn’t even close to the craziest thing she saw that day.

“I’ll be back later to check on her,” she placed the chart on the hook.

“Okay…Thank you,” Rhea kissed my hand and rested her head on the bed.

The nurse left and closed the curtain behind her.

You’re probably wondering how I remember all this…well I don’t. This is what was told to me and a little bit of dramatization for the story. But this next bit I do remember because it was after I woke up and I was able to recover my memory, but not at first. Don’t worry, it’ll get good.

So after a few hours, according to the doc, I finally woke up. I forced my eyes open and looked to see who was resting beside me. I tried to not freak out about this large dark woman holding my hand but I couldn’t think at all other than “Where am I ?!”

“Y/N!! You’re awake!” she kissed my hand and I immediately pulled it away but she didn’t take too much notice of it because she stood and called for the nurse, “Nurse!! Please hurry she’s awake!! Nurse!”

The nurse walked just a bit quicker than her normal gait. Followed by two more who were checking on different tubes and monitors. She shined the small light in my eyes as I squinted away from her, she checked my pulse and my breathing before spewing off some random medicines.

“Can someone please tell me where I am and why I’m here?” I sat up trying to avoid everyone touching me.

“You had a bad concussion, you were out for a good few hours. You’re at Rosendall Grace hospital,” the nurse said as if she was reciting lines from a play.

“How?” was all I could say.

“It was my fault,” the scary muscular woman said sniffling in the corner, “I was arguing with shayna and we threw a chair and it hit you, I’m so sorry baby.”

“Who’s Shayna and why’d you call me baby? Who are you?” I felt the side of my head that was pulsing. It felt like my brain was going to burst out.

“Don’t touch, there’s a wound there,” the nurse pulled my hand away.

“Shit,” the dark woman slammed her hand on the wall, “You lost your memory. I’m Rhea, I’m your girlfriend and have been for two years. I’m a wrestler for WWE, and Shayna is another wrestler and we were arguing on television but you were in the audience.”

The nurses that were swarming around me looked at each other as if it finally clicked in their head why she looked the way she did and why she was here with me.

“What’s WWE?”

“You’ll remember later, too much to explai-”

“Please don’t pull out your IV,” the nurse grabbed my wrist.

“I’m scared, I don’t know who she is, I’m in a random hospital with nurses that could give two shits about me. I want to leave, please!” I tried wriggle my arm out from her grip.

Rhea sits down in the chair in the corner of the room, “Please just listen to them for right now and you’ll be out sooner. Fighting them won’t help,” she sighed putting her head in her hands.

“Fine,” I huffed crossing my arms refusing them from touching me more.

“Please, we need to fix it,” the nurse held out her hand.

If looks could kill, she’d be long gone by now with the daggers I was shooting at her. She didn’t budge. So I so dramatically give her my hand.

“Thank you,” she snipped, “this is medicine that will help with the pain… morphine,” she shot a look to the australian, as if she was making sure she knew what was going to happen. “You should get your memories back within the night,” she looked back at me giving a fake smile. Taking a big sigh and checking the medicine bag hanging near me, “try to jog her memory like talking about things she likes or about the moments leading up to the injury,” she turned towards my girlfriend before nodding her head. Who knows how long she’s been here.

“Okay, yeah… I can do that,” Rhea dragged the chair back to the side of the bed.

“We’ll be back later the check on things,” the nurse gave a nod and shut the curtain once more.

“Hey,” she tried to grab for my hand but I pulled it away.

“Don’t touch me, I don’t know who you are,” I turned away from her.

“You know me very well actually,” she sat back in the chair, “You know how much vegemite I like on my toast, you know that I love to be the little spoon, you know that I-”

“Vegemite?” I looked at her confused because what the hell is that, legitimately.

“Don’t worry about it,” she waved me away.

“And you,” I gestured frantically to her big arms and muscular stature, “like to be the little spoon?”

“Yes. Don’t start with me, princess,” she began to play into the memory loss as if I was someone she had never met before.

Unbeknownst to me, she was trying to win me back over but obviously I had no clue who this dark haired goth woman was. Did I think she was attractive? Yes but that’s not the point.

“Oh now you’re trying to flirt with me,” I said.

“I’m always flirting with you actually,” she winked.

The butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I tried my best to hide them but…

“Now how did I know that would fluster you, hm?”

“I don’t know! You’re good a flirting?!” I shrugged.

“I am, thank you,” she giggled.

“Ugh,” I huffed and crossed my arms. I remember thinking that she was so incredibly attractive and mysterious. I needed to know more about her but I had no clue where to start. We sat in silence for a good long minute before I decided to break it. “What did you say you did?”

“I’m a wrestler for WWE.”

“And what’s that?”

“It stands for World Wrestling Entertainment. My nickname is Mami, and I’m the big scary villain along with three other guys but we’ll get to them later.”

“Oh,” I really did try to process what she said but I was so far out of it that I had no clue what wrestling was. I thought that if I faked it, she would believe me.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember, you will eventually,” only then did I notice what she was wearing because she was putting everything on display by her manspreading. She noticed that I was staring pretty hard trying to take it all in, “What’re ya looking at so hard?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. I’m trying to figure out what you’re wearing and why you’re wearing it,” I shifted in the bed.

“Oh,” she chuckled before she stood. “These are my boots,” she pointed at them as her feet turned in, “these are my fishnets,” she pulled at them with a snap, “they always gets holes in them but I think it makes me look cooler, and these are my lil booty shorts,” she pointed at them with both of her hands gesturing to her center, “this is my shirt with the group on it… that’s me,” she pointed at each of the silhouetted figures on the shirt, “that’s Dom Dom, that’s Damian and that’s Finn. They’re my boys,” she smiled.

“Hmm,” I said contently. I was really was fascinated by this woman. She was so… interesting.

She sat back down pulling the chair closer to the bed but I didn’t feel the need to shy away again. Something about her made me feel…safe.

She cleared her throat, “so do you remember anything at all?”

“Well, I know my name is (y/n) only because that’s what you said earlier, and I know I got hit in the head, and obviously I know how to talk, but other than that…” I couldn’t think of anything, nothing at all. I began to freak out a little but I tried to hide it as best I could.

“Hey, hey," she grabbed my hand, "it's okay, you'll get your memories back soon, I'm sure. Nothing to worry about, just a lil blip is all," she kissed my hand.

A shot of warmth from her voice as the kiss flew through me and calmed me almost immediately. I guess I did know her.

We sat in silence for a good moment as I studied her. Her eyes are an icy blue that almost close when she smiles wide, her teeth are perfectly white, her nose is long and skinny with a bump in the middle, it suits her. Her tattoos are dark but fit her style as if she was born with them, her calloused hands look rough but are softer than you can imagine. The way her black wavy hair falls perfectly around her face, framing it just right to accentuate her cheekbones. Her arms are muscular but you can’t tell when she’s relaxed, though I’m sure that if she flexed I’d go into cardiac arrest. I laughed at myself with that one.

“What’s so funny, love?” her voice was quiet but gentle.

The pet name didn’t phase me as much as the first one did, “just thinking.”

“Bout what?” She crossed her legs leaning on her elbow with her chin in her hand.

“How I wish I remembered who you are because I definitely think you’re my type,” I could feel my face getting red and hot.

“Oh trust me, I wish you could too because I most definitely am your type,” one of her blue eyes winked at me and the monitor started beeping faster.

She laughed as she looked at the heart rate going up, “Told ya.”

“Knock, knock,” a different nurses voice came through the curtain before she walked through, “your nurse left for the night so I’ll be taking care of you for now,” she grabbed my chart, “So how are you feeling?”

“My head isn’t throbbing anymore so that’s good, but I guess I still don’t have my memory yet.”

“It’ll come soon, but I’m glad the morphine is working,” she smiled as she put my chart back and flicked the IV bag to get rid of the bubbles, I’m not exactly sure why she did that though.

I gave her a weak smile before looking back at the dark woman beside me. She gave me another wink and the monitor beeped faster again.

“Oh! You okay?” the nurse shot me a look.

“Yeah, uh… I’m fine,” I tried to shrink myself down.

“She’s okay Doc, just trying to jog her memory,” the wrestler said.

“I see,” she giggled, “I’ll be back to check on you later. Maybe try to get some sleep, that usually helps others with their memory. Like a hard reset!” She quietly left the room, if that’s what you wanna call it.

“That’s actually a good idea, wait, when did we eat last?” my so called girlfriend asked.

“Around 5 I think?”

“What?”

“What what?”

“You remember when we ate?” She started to get excited.

“Oh… I guess I do!”

“Do you remember what you ate?”

“Uuuuhhhhhh….” I really thought hard about what food was, “Damn, no I don’t.”

“Damn,” her face dropped immediately, “I’ll get some stuff from the vending machine though, I’ll be right back, baby,” she stood and kissed my forehead.

As if someone hit me with another chair, my head pounded with memories. True Love’s Kiss really came through with this one. I remembered everything, who she was, what I ate, who I was, where we were, why we were here. I held my head as they came rushing back, “Rhea?”

“Yeah?”

“Do that again,” I pointed at my forehead.

So she did, but she didn’t notice that I said her name, which shoulda been the dead give away because I’ll be honest, I didn’t remember her name when she said it at the beginning of this whole mess.

“That’s what I thought,” I said.

“What?” she stepped back a bit.

“That I love you,” I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt.

“You do?! You remember?!” She was almost jumping she was so excited. “So who am I? What do I do?”

“You’re Rhea Ripley of the Judgment Day, you wrestle for WWE and most importantly you’re my girlfriend,” I shook my legs with excitement.

“Yes! Yes!!” She bent down and kissed my lips holding my face, “What else?!” she didn’t let go of my face though.

“We had burgers for dinner with the boys, Dom, Finn, and Damian. You had a match against Shayna that ended with me getting hit with the chair,” I laughed it off.

“YES!!” she kissed me once more, “NURSE! She remembered! Nurse!!!”

She came running in, “YAY!!” she was much more enthusiastic than the other one, “That’s exciting news!! Oh I love hearing about things like this, it’s so cool how the brain works,” she laughed. “I’ll get the doc to come check on you once more to see of you can be discharged. Be right back!” as she slipped out.

“I love you, I love you, I love you!!” Rhea kissed all over my face and down my neck finishing with a long kiss on my lips.

“I love you too…Mami,” I giggled.

“I can’t wait to get you out of here,” she snarled playfully.

“Me either.”

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #head trauma #memory loss #i thought this was a fun idea so i had to do it #please like it

219 notes · View notes

tragedy-machine · 19 days

Text

9 REASONS TO LOVE DEAD BOY DETECTIVES

Edwin Payne, need I say more

ok I will say more, he's a gay repressed ghost from the edwardian era who's a logical and stoic character with lots of trauma, who later goes through even more shit and is shown broken and crying?? hello?? not to sound like a psycho, but iykyk, a strong/calm character breaking apart and being vulnerable is PEAK TELEVISION, don't fight me on this

a true and well done portrayal of the found family trope

really dope female characters with amazing fashion! includes: a badass goth lesbian butcher!

your favorite character (Edwin, bcs it will be Edwin, bcs he is everyone's favorite character) has an absolutely adorable friendship with a genuinely GREAT female character where she helps him realize his feelings and even though they're "weirdos" to other people, they understand and support each other unconditionally

Edwin's and Charles's devotion towards each other, the pining, the jealously, their tenderness with each other and the love they share

your favorite character (again, Edwin) is a magnet to all the supernatural gays in a small port town, overall the dude has literally 4 love interests in the show even though he doesn't even TRY, doesn't know how to get bitches, he just does, and I LOVE that for him and hope he continues his streak in s2

and the show is genuinely funny, beautifully-shot and very interesting! it has great pacing and is just really fun, I rewatched it 2 days after I initially finished it and it did not feel boring at all, there's just so much happening in the 8 episodes that they stay entertaining

the premise of the show itself, ghost detectives, supernatural investigations, set in the sandman universe, coproduced by Neil Gaiman, it has the vibe of good omens and maybe a bit of sabrina the teenage witch mixed together, IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE, JUST TRUST ME BRO

#yes edwin needed 2 separate point in this #actually 4 oops well #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #niko sasaki #charles rowland #crystal palace #jenny the butcher #my posts #payneland

114 notes · View notes

jubileemon · 2 months

Text

Loona started off as a fan favorite, but as the series progressed, some hate her for being your typical "misunderstood teenage goth girl" who is bratty, temperamental and mistreats others around her as little more than nuisances, even her adoptive father, Blitzo.

Background and Trauma

Loona exhibits a complex personality shaped by a traumatic upbringing. Her behavior is rooted in her experiences at the Hellhound Adoption Foundation, where she was raised by uncaring caretakers. Devoid of affection and subjected to violence for disobedience, Loona's formative years were marred by isolation and mistreatment. This harsh reality of her childhood in the orphanage left her with deep-seated trust issues and an inability to properly give or receive love, influencing her interactions with others, including her adoptive father Blitz.

The so-called "adoption center" looks like a cross between a run-down dog pound and a juvenile detention center, with most of the hellhounds Blitzo sees looking malnourished or deformed. When he sees Loona, her cellmate is threatening her with a bloody nail bat before she flings him at the bars, growling and then she starts crying, looking more like a frightened, feral dog than anything. The social worker's indifferent description of her in her emotionally dead tone doesn't help, saying all this directly in front of Loona's cell, and only highlights how lonely Loona's life had been for almost eighteen years.

Loona's living space gets more tragic the longer you look at it. The back and side walls are covered in tally marks scratched into the tile. And there's a typical "Hang in there!" poster ripped with obvious claw marks, making it clear Loona had long given up hope of being adopted into a family. There are some drawings on the walls of Loona with storm clouds above her head and a giant version of her stomping on a city. Either they were drawn by Loona in which case they show just how frustrated and fed up with the world she has become over the years, or they were drawn by the other hellhound kids who only see her as a vicious monster.

The fact that this place is essentially a pound and not an adoption place paints Loona's situation as much grimmer. They're not treated as individuals but as animals and would normally just leave as rescued dogs. When the social worker mentions that Loona will age out it's implied that it doesn't mean that she's exactly leaving safe & sound.

You can also see that Loona takes a look at her tally marks, and as it lines up with the social worker's statement on her aging out, it wordlessly states Loona knows about this. Whether she's put to sleep or kicked out ownerless, it's a cloud of pitch-black dread she can do nothing about except countdown to.

The social worker's dialogue makes it clear how hellhounds are treated in this world. They're not treated as sentient individuals; instead, they're valued for either being strong laborers or cute family pets. Loona is both strong and beautiful, but being a self-actualized person with internal struggles and self-preservation instincts makes her undesirable. For an imp, one of the lowest creatures in Hell's hierarchy, to be able to adopt a hellhound as a pet or servant shows that despite their strength, they're seen and treated as even lower than imps.

If Blitzo hadn't adopted her, Loona would apparently have "aged out of the system" and been "out of the kennel's hair". This could simply mean that Loona would be kicked out, but given a mix of how scared she looked, the way hellhounds are treated in this setting and what sometimes happens to real dogs when they're deemed too old for adoption…

Personality

Loona's past manifested in various aspects of her demeanor. Her reluctance to perform her job may stem from a newfound appreciation for freedom, contrasting with her previously constrained life. Her agreessive nature, particularly towards characters like Moxxie, can be seen as a defensive mechanism, a way to assert control in situations where she might feel vulnerable.

Blitzo's adoption of her before she aged out ensured her gratitude and was why she didn't leave him. But years of hardship have made it hard for her to open up to him properly. Despite her tough exterior, moments of genuine vulnerability reveal her social awkwardness and desire for connection, which she struggles to navigate due to her lack of social experience.

Loona is shown throughout the series to have a strong aversion to being touched, reacting either with threatening growls or violence. However, her aversion to being touched might've stem from her past in the adoption center, yet she can handle being touched when she's the one initiating the contact, as seen when she allows Octavia to hug her and then holds her hand through the portal. That being said, she never reacted aggressively to Blitzo's affections beforehand, so this felt out of place, even for her.

Social Skills

Loona seems to be hiding some deep insecurities and feelings of loneliness, having never had any friends before meeting Vortex and briefly glancing with visible sadness at a picture of an happy family in "Murder Family", which implies Loona does wish to have good relationships in her life, but is unable to due to her tendency to see the bad in people and vent out her frustrations on others, including (and, arguably, especially) those who try to be nice or fatherly to her, like her adoptive father Blitzo.

However, after having been friend-zoned by Vortex, Loona didn't resent him and kept in touch with him, becoming great friends with him and going to parties with him, which might be making her more open to people and less hostile, as she's gradually becoming less rude and apathetic towards her co-workers.

Father-Daughter Relationship

Blitzo is her adoptive father, but she almost always refers to him by his name since she doesn't like showing the fact that she cares about him. That said, there are times where she slips up: on Instagram, she was so worried about him being kidnapped that she straight out called him "dad", though she immediately tried to walk it back out of embarrassment by claiming she was just upset that food was running low in their home. In "Spring Broken", she was so flustered with seeing Vortex that she almost slipped and called Blitzo "dad" before catching herself.

Once, she showed to be more than capable of both showing affection to and taking care of Blitzo: when he became severely intoxicated at Vortex and Queen Bee-lzebub's party to numb his pain after having rejected Stolas, she drove and carried him back to I.M.P. headquarters, set him on the couch and covered him with a blanket. When Blitzo shared his insecurities regarding loneliness and asked her if she'd be by him once he met his end, Loona promised him she would, showing her seriousness and true care by willingly calling him "dad".

Sisterly Bond

For the longest time, Loona and Octavia never met each other, only being connected to each other through their dads being in a rather complicated relationship with each other. This changed one day when Octavia snuck into I.M.P.'s office to obtain her father's grimoire so she can watch a meteor shower on Earth on her own. Loona actually spots Octavia trying to sneak in, but deliberately chooses not to say anything (partly because of lingering anger from a discussion she had with her father earlier).

As Loona approaches Octavia when she finally finds her, she's incredibly gentle with the girl and even compliments her on her photos. Loona rags on Blitzo at the beginning of "Seeing Stars", even physically assaulting him. But on Earth, she ultimately does do what he wants in finding Octavia, confiding in her that she recognizes that Blitzo is trying to be a good dad to her. It's as close as Loona gets to admitting that maybe things with Blitzo aren't as bad as she's ever gotten.

When Loona asks Octavia if she's ready to go while extending her hand out to her, Octavia gives the grimoire over to Loona and hugs her, glad to have someone who listened to her and can relate to. Previous episodes have shown that Loona does NOT like physical affection, shown most often with Blitzo. Yet here, Loona accepts and even returns Octavia's hug with no resistance whatsoever. It's even better since Loona was the one who initiated the contact. She holds her hand out to Octavia twice as though to help her stand up and looks a little confused when Octavia instead hands her the book the first time.

Conclusion

So far, I can see that Loona's character among fans is kinda mixed. While some viewers are sympathetic with her traumatic past and understand her defensive behavior, others find her attitude off-putting, which is understandable. It's also understandable that due to her recent absence and lack of dialogues during the second season, Loona's VA was probably given time to grieve due to the losing her partner and probably a busy schedule with other projects.

101 notes · View notes

sw-33-ts-stuff · 1 year

Note

Okay okay okay but imagine y/n is like a werewolf but a cat if that makes sense? And as a cat they get cuddly, purr and just really loving. Especially when it's towards Wednesday 😏 They aren't together but you can tell there's feelings there... The purring low-key gives it away. When they're alone (the writing hour) the cat gets cuddly

Oooo it’s been a minute 😭😭 I hope I did this right for you

3rd Person POV

Enid watched as a black cat strode confidently from the balcony into her room, settling itself by her roommates typewriter.

She glanced at her watch knowing she would soon come in for her usual writing hour. The cat stretched licking its paws as if it had just finished a delicious feast.

We did just have dinner.

The werewolf suddenly felt her brows furrow realizing the cat may not just be a cat. She sniffed the air trying to place the scent when Wednesday waltzed in.

Her eyes quickly falling to the dark creature on her desk. She walked up slowly nuzzling under its chin as it began to purr.

Enid felt her eyebrows raise at the sight, Wednesday and affection were two things she didn't think ever went together.

"Enid your need for useless gossip should be able to tell me who this cat belongs to." She looked to the taller girl who shrugged in return.

"Never seen it until now but I'll ask around I'm sure someone's wondering where it is."

Wednesday sat at her desk chair slightly pushed back as the creature plopped itself right on her lap.

Wednesday paused slightly glaring at the cat.

"You're getting far too comfortable." Yellow eyes just slowly blinked back at her before softly kneading it's paws creating a nest on her lap. Enid almost cooed at the sight of it.

The goth rolled her eyes as she adjusted herself.

"I refuse to let you interrupt my writing so either get lost or don't move." The cat purred slightly as if letting her know it understood.

She blew out a breath before the usual sound of fingertips hitting keys filled the room, Enid's headphones already on as Thing read on of her magazines on her bed.

Wednesday walked into the Weathervane her usual booth occupied by an intruder. She felt her gaze harden at the sight of them. They sat tall as they'd glanced to the book on the table, slender fingers picking up a glass cup and sipping slowly as if they didn't plan to leave any time soon.

"Howdy roomie let's-" Enid blanched at the sight of someone sitting in their usual booth. She already knew that Wednesday was not one for abrupt changes to her routine. She glanced to the girl putting a hand up before she walked towards you.

"Hi." She looked down suddenly realizing you were wearing the same uniform she was. Her eyebrows furrowed as she suddenly lost her train of thought. "I haven't seen you around school?"

You looked up to the werewolf eyes shining in recognition. "I like to keep to myself."

She nodded. "So if you wouldn't mind this is Wednesday and I's usual booth and-"

"I am more than happy to share-"

"Y/n." Wednesday interrupted the both of you.

Enid grew more confused. "You two know each other?"

You nod to the fur as you go to elaborate, Wednesday cutting you off. "We share a few classes together."

Enid watched the two of you interact and felt the gears in her head begin to turn. She looked to Wednesday's face once more realizing there was something underneath the usual look of indifference and slight agitation. She watched her eyebrows for a second to see if they would give any indication to what she was feeling but found none. She then looked to her eyes not a glare but still not happy, set firmly in its usual deadpan. Her lips the usual frown-

Wait a minute.

She found her cheeks weren't as pale as they usually are and almost gasped out loud as she saw Wednesdays eyes weren't holding your gaze but slowly scanning over you.

"I was just telling Enid I'm more than happy to share the booth with you both."

Enid watched you next and found your hands had a slight shake to them as you placed your cup back down.

"I suppose that will be acceptable." Her neck snapped to the smaller girl who began to settle into the seat across from you. She sat next to Wednesday who scowled.

Wednesday began to take out the book she was reading as you continued on as if nothing changed. At least that's how it would look to anyone else, Enid watched as you would glance to Wednesday when she wasn't looking eyes dilating to the point your irises were overshadowed like, like-

Enid sniffed the air subtly before realization hit her like a truck. She glanced to her roommate to find her staring at you from over her book and shook her head in amusement.

Maybe she’ll let her figure this one out on her own.

Taglist: @alexkolax

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #wednesday netflix #wednesday imagine #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #Wednesday x shapeshifter

636 notes · View notes