#ssshh

[wafflingaboutnothin]

imagine being forced to go to a party just for the host to bully you.

INSANE work, could NOT be me personally.

[petalsiren]

posting this one cause i felt like it, this is much older than any of the other doodles on this account,,,

[yakultii]

I could be deported from melbourne because I don’t drink coffee

[aamaranthiine]

OOC: whispers softly into the void that yes i follow a lot of OP blogs because it is my current fixation. amalthea has a fleshed out verse for one piece - she's a mythical zoan user, made immortal by the fruit she ate and is a self employed cartographer and log pose artificer. no solid allegiances but lots of potential for casual acquaintanceships and contacts due to her work. she prefers to deal with pirates and other neutral aligned folk, but does occasionally take work from marines.

[dofnup]

This is Missy, she's a diva who thinks she's a human ... a human who dislikes cats! 🤷🏻‍♀️ Anyway it was love at first sight for my husband who says she's the most unique cat he's ever seen. I think she's a brindled tortie, but only @whatcoloristhatcat knows for sure 😉

[red1culous]

—LIBEROSIS | SIX

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: Right. Now things are going well and Wednesday should be basking her the vindication of it all. But now there's other things that keep her up at night and it's maddening. Wednesday used to never care and now she wished she cared a little less.

Warnings: Pining & Angst. Dramatic!Wednesday. Enid, is focused on her boat. Thing, is the GOAT. Xavier, just expects no peace.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

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

Note: Wednesday: things are nice right now. I should create more problems :|

Part Five

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Liberosis: Noun. The desire to care less about things—to loosen your grip on your life, to stop glancing behind you every few steps, afraid that someone will snatch it from you before you reach the end zone—rather to hold your life loosely and playfully, like a volleyball, keeping it in the air, with only quick fleeting interventions, bouncing freely in the hands of trusted friends, always in play.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There's a certain bliss when things go well. It's like a well-thought-out plan that came to fruition, bearing the fruits of desired results. 

It always brings Wednesday acute satisfaction. 

She should be basking in all the glory and victory that her actions have brought her—to know that her suffering wasn't for nothing.

Yet, as Wednesday sits out near the lake under the shade of a willow tree while reading a book, she feels—discontentment. 

Winter has long passed, and Wednesday misses the weather.

The day was warm and sunny, with a slight soothing breeze—terrible. On top of that, everyone seemed to have gathered around the willow tree, trying to relax under the shade. She had Enid and Yoko on her left, yapping like chihuahuas. Xavier, Ajax, and Eugene sat a few feet in front of her, playing some kind of game. 

On her right, you sat a foot away, chatting with Bianca and her fellow sirens next to you. The conversation she'd be listening to hadn't been anything of interest, but Wednesday supposes that Bianca wouldn't spill her plans for the Poe Cup race with everyone else around. 

Every so often, Enid would lean over her, trying to say something to you, and it would make Wednesday stiffen uncomfortably. 

"Wednesday," Enid frustratedly sighs as she tries to lean over Wednesday to say something to you. "It'd be so much easier if you switched seats with me. You're just reading anyway! You can do that at the edge."

Enid starts to move to get up, but Wednesday turns her head and glares at her roommate. "If you so much as try to force me out of my optimal seating, I will dump all your nail polish over the balcony."

Enid gasped, hand to her heart dramatically as if it was the worst thing she could ever hear. 

"Really, Addams?" Bianca asked with a sardonic expression. "You've lost your touch on the threats."

Wednesday raises her brow at the dark siren. "Enid is unique and stupidly no longer fears my homicidal threats. I have to get creative with her to instill fear."

"What's so optimal about that seating anyway?" Enid grumbles, but Wednesday see's the blonde looking at you with a smirk.

"The shade," Wednesday answers briskly. "This is the only spot without a speck of sunlight getting through."

You suddenly laugh, grabbing everyone's attention. You look over to Enid and smile. "Why don't you and Yoko come and sit in front of me?"

"But I want to lean my back against something," Enid whines with a frown.

"If the boys move in front of you to play their game, I'm sure Ajax would be happy to let you lean against his back," you smirk while Ajax looks at his girlfriend happily and nods.

"But we're going to be in the sun," Xavier complains.

"Count yourself lucky," Wednesday looks at the artist, her face deadpan. "As much as I adore the aesthetic of ghosts, the complexion doesn't suit you."

"Fuck you," Xavier gives her the middle finger. "I don't want to hear this from someone who looks half-dead all the time."

"I've spent my free time in cold lockers," Wednesday looks back at her book. "What's your excuse?"

Xavier grumbles in reply, but the three boys get up to readjust so Enid can sit peacefully in front of you and resume her conversation. 

Wednesday relaxes more comfortably now that her left side is free. Wednesday was side-sitting, her knees both on one side, facing away from you as she held open her book in front of her face with one hand. Her other hand rests against the grass between the two of you.

Soon enough, the chatter resumes and becomes static noise to Wednesday, and when it does, she stiffens. You've placed your left hand down against the grass, and the very tip of your middle finger brushed against Wednesday's. 

You're talking animatedly with Bianca and Enid, and no one else seems to notice Wednesday's inelegance. It seems no one is paying attention to her at all anymore. 

After a few moments, Wednesday swallows. She looks carefully at those around her, ensuring they're all lost in their own conversations. There's something that she particularly wants, and she should simply do it. 

After all, she's gone through enough emotional suffering because of you, and the last few months have shown her that she's evolved enough to hunt down the desires she didn't think she'd ever have. 

Yet, fully moving her hand to grasp yours seemed more difficult than solving murder mysteries. 

Wednesday shifts, hinting at you what she wants. 

Nothing changes as you're too lost in your conversation with Enid. 

Wednesday purses her lip in annoyance. Perhaps it was a mistake to have Enid move in front of you.

Wednesday shifts again, the tip of her middle finger brushing against yours more intentionally. The hint was very obstinately clear now. Or, it should've been.

You don't budge.

A thought drifts through Wednesday's mind. She has lamented over you, suffered because of you, chased after you. The least you could do is take her fucking hint. 

Just grab it, Wednesday tells herself. Grab it and crush it—

You shift, sitting straighter, and move your hand to fan yourself from the warm weather.

Wednesday doesn't know why you'd ever think she's enticed by the sun.

She detests the sun and its warmth.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday sits at the pond's edge, staring out into its vast, clear reflection. Little fireflies hover near the surface, dancing their way back and forth. Her face is strained, her eyebrows furrowed in their natural way, and her lips pressed in a line. 

"Oh, you're here."

Wednesday turns around and sees you entering from behind a tree. She nods in acknowledgment. "Of course," she plainly replies and then demands, "why are you late?" 

You smile at her, and it both irritates Wednesday and delights her. 

"Henry wanted to show me his mindscape," you reveal. "He's been excited about it all week, so I thought I'd go see it now rather than during my free period. The verdict is that he might need some work because precisely nothing changed or happened."

You sit next to her, grinning at her blank face before you fall onto your back, staring at the moon. 

"Why not during your free period?" Wednesday asks as she kicks the side of your shoe, signaling to turn onto your back. You turn over with a puff of breath, focusing on your wings to come out and unfurl. 

Wednesday watches in interest as she always does. She anticipates when they'll fully heal, and she'll get them to see them fully stretch. She feels titillation at the thought of them spanning wide enough to block out the sun. 

It occurred to Wednesday then that one; she was looking forward to something that seemed so…frivolous and, frankly, embarrassing. Second, Wednesday believed that your presence in her life would be a more permanent fixture. 

The image of her mother pops up in her head, and she feels unwell. 

"Well," you drag her out of her thoughts. "You have fencing at that time, right? I thought I'd come watch your match against Xavier."

Wednesday is initially silent, feeling something stir in her stomach at your words. She applies the salve leisurely and thinks about how it doesn't matter how fast or slow she administers it because you won't be running off anywhere after. 

"It won't be anything special," Wednesday monotones. "Xavier will pathetically lose after seven and a half minutes."

You laugh. "Well, I'll enjoy the seven and half minutes of it then." You hum, your wings trill as Wednesday ruffles some of them to apply the salve. "Tickles," you mumble, and Wednesday feels the comfort of it. 

Soon enough, Wednesday finishes, and you turn around and sit back up.

"Anyway," you interject and smirk. "Since you'll only be fencing for about seven and a half minutes, why don't you play hooky with me?"

"And do what exactly?" Wednesday asks flatly with her brow raised.

"Hm," you hum, tilting your head. "I wanted to see the Jericho town but Larissa won't let me leave the school grounds for the next couple of weeks."

"Oh?" Wednesday raises her brow in intrigue but then follows up with, "You call Principal Weems by her first name?"

You nod. "I mean, yeah, in private only since she said it was okay. I guess it's weird to call your guardian Principal Weems after hours."

"On the contrary," Wednesday tilts her chin to the side. "I believe we should refer to our birthmakers by their name to establish distance."

You roll your eyes at Wednesday, trying to hide your smile. 

"Why is she trying to keep you locked in this penitentiary?" Wednesday asks.

"Jericho grows these flowers—draeconiums. They're usually harmless and have a short bloom lifecycle," you tell her. "But I believe this year they bloomed under an eclipse."

Wednesday recalled the eclipse last week. Enid had been so excited about it and made plans with everyone to watch it. 

It was boring.

"Anyway," you continue on. "If that happens, draeconiums produce a certain sap in its stem that's very, very poisonous to faeries. It's the only thing that can cut a faerie's wings off."

"Poisonous sap?" Wednesday's brows furrow.

You nod with a hum. "The sap hardens and it's harder than any metal to exist."

Wednesday processes the words. "Interesting."

You laugh. "Don't tell me you thought just anything could cut off my wings."

Wednesday's silent. 

"If wings that could grant wishes could be cut off that easily, I think my kind would've gone extinct long ago," you chuckle. 

Wednesday's not really thinking about that (although she was under that impression). She's thinking about how hard this sap would be to come by and probably how faeries would make it their business to find any draeconium saps to keep the outside world from having it. 

And she thinks of your mother and burns. 

"So, I don't think I'll be stepping out of the academy anytime soon until the draeconiums wilt and the sap isn't potent anymore."

Wednesday looks at you and nods. It would be prudent to keep you away from things that could end your existence. 

"I wonder what we could do," you muse and then shrug. "I guess we can just hang out."

It was something in the way you say it that formed a knot in Wednesday's stomach. "You sound bored," she keeps her tone flat. "Do you grow tired of my presence already?"

"If I was then I suppose I'm a masochist for inviting you to play hooky with me," you look amused. "We don't have to do anything special to enjoy our time. Why would you think that?"

"I told you I wasn't dating material."

You raise your brow at her. "We're not dating."

You continue speaking about different things, and Wednesday just sits there silently, letting you ramble on.

But later that night, she lies awake in her bed, staring at the ceiling with her arms folded over her chest, restless. 

Of course, there was no basking in the glory and her victory of chasing you. She had caught you, and now she didn't know what to do with you. 

Grow closer and become more like her mother, or distance herself and—

Wednesday couldn't even finish that thought.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Your eyes narrowed on Wednesday's form. 

You should be angry, considering how Wednesday seemed to be distant lately. She still spent all her time with you, but it was like her mind was someplace else.

Even now, Wednesday was staring out the balcony with a larger frown than usual. 

But you're not angry, especially since you've had your fair share of avoidance with her. You suppose you're lucky Wednesday still lingered around even if her mind was elsewhere.

"Wednesday," you call softly. She looked at you, her face blank and unrevealing. 

"What's wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong," Wednesday answers, and it's terse, and it's biting you to warn you to stop asking questions.

You shuffle closer and watch as Wednesday tenses, leaning away from you. You'd thought it would hurt your feelings, but you see something past the discomfort in her eyes, and it makes you push forward.

"Wednesday," you repeat. "You can tell me what's wrong." The way you say it is soft and unassuming, and it offers security instead of pressure.

Wednesday reluctantly shares what's on her mind at your probing. It takes her a few minutes, but eventually, she opens her mouth.

"Despite achieving the results I wanted when it came to you, I worry about the fact that I become more and more like my mother every day. It's disgusting."

It was so unexpected that you bit your tongue to refrain from laughing. You're pretty sure that though Wednesday more than tolerates you, she would still kill you.

You try to come up with something to say, but you can't help but tease her.

"You worry a lot for someone who has yet to go on a date with me."

Wednesday glares, and you chuckle. You feel relaxed knowing what the issue is.

"What exactly do you worry about when it comes to being like your mother?"

"That I'll fall in love, be a housewife, or have a family."

"Well," you smile dryly. "I think we're okay on the biological family front unless some kind of a miracle happens with the reproductive system. Otherwise, I think you quite enjoy having a little bandwagon of misfits to call your chosen family."

Wednesday's jaw only locks tighter, but you continue on.

"Regarding being a housewife, do you really think the person you'll be with—me, in this hypothetical scenario—would expect you to be a housewife?" You raised your brow. "While I personally think there's nothing wrong with being one, I know that isn't you, and nor would I want you to be one if that's not what you want." 

You slowly reach out to grab her hand, smiling when Wednesday allows it. "I hope the person you choose to be with will work with you in building a home that you both take care of together. Although—once again—I, in this hypothetical scenario, can't cook and may burn everything to the ground, which I know you find arson thrilling, but I promise you it's not romantic in that situation."

Wednesday's lip twitches, and you smile wider knowingly. 

"As for falling in love," you sigh. "I'm not really sure what you want me to say, Wednesday."

The raven girl tenses up at your words, immediately frowning. You stroke her palm with your thumb, attempting to soothe her. 

"I struggle with it sometimes too," you admit. "I believe most psychologists would say every problem we have in our life can be led back to our childhood or our parents."

"But I think, at the bare minimum, we should get to choose how we love and what relationships we develop," you look into Wednesday's dark eyes. "Your parents seem like lovely people—" Wednesday scoffs—"but I don't quite think we'll ever behave like them."

You pull Wednesday to sit next to you on the ground, slumping and leaning your head against her shoulder. You link your arm through hers, and Wednesday finds it easy behind closed doors.

"You think too much, Wednesday. There's no rush, and we've made it this far, so we should take our time. I'm not going anywhere."

Wednesday relaxes, and you can feel it against your body. She feels a lull of peace settle over her as her mind settles. 

Still—

"And if after time passes, what shall you do if I decide to leave?"

You look at her seriously. "I will have no choice but to accept it, but not before pushing you down a flight of stairs of at least 20 steps and framing it on Bianca."

"Bianca?" Wednesday raises her brow at you.

"She'd be the most believable suspect," you tell her, smiling as you joke.

But it's probably the most romantic thing Wednesday has ever heard, and she looks at you with a soft gaze you've never witnessed before.

"Promise?"

[jayninjago]

When the (formerly) unconcious robot whose ‘Ice Emperor’ programming you accidentally enabled while rebooting him is kinda cute so you strike him a deal he cant say no to

[hoarder-of-dragons]

"I want his gender'', I say while pointing towards a cis white male

[hoarder-of-dragons]

*drops the book accidentally*

OKAY FIRST OF 97.8%!! RESPECTIVELLY FUCK YOU! But honestly can I applaud you? Not because you got good marks because im sure that put too many expectations on you, but you just good marks with every other stress landed on top of you. Also yes the indian education system is fucking trash. I took AI (50 percent is literal garbage) and it literally has nothing to help me in the future.

south africa but i've never been there also i'm drinking

HELLO MAGGOTS this is the good omens mascot here hello hello. my psychiatrist just spent today telling me how I won't be able to be out in college when it starts in May and I'll be misgendered etc etc it's all a good time. So my solution:

My darling cousin @imchronicallyonlinesowhat (the one who thought Sir Terry Pratchett looked like Sudha Murthy, was a kindly old woman and was married to Neil Gaiman because their book cover fonts were similar, OG maggots know the PAIN) who lives in South Africa asked me to make a South Africa post. FYI, she's moving to Australia for college, so you can be assured I shared my Australia posts with her she is SO prepared she won't say marmite instead of vegemite and she knows the Wibbles are inherently sexual. SOUTH AFRICA (I've only had a teeny weeny bit of cheap ass wine so far):

There a lot of white people there it's ineffable. There are enough of them there that my cousin regularly talks about not ever marrying someone who doesn't have some masala.

Afrikaans is a gorgeous language. I thought my cousin was showing me her Afrikaans notes once. She wasn't. It was her English notes, she just has the most illegible yet neat handwriting in the world.

They don't say yo but they say YOH and it sounds very much like a bass drum.

People at my cousin's school pump their hands in the air while saying jesus-jesus.

There's a trio of white boys that rule the school kind of like a genderswapped mean girls. They all look the same haircut-wise, they're Catholic and they're called the Triumvirate.

I'm realising here that my knowledge of South Africa is limited to cuzzy's school. But the wine is shit and I promised my blood-relative so I am continuing.

The books are fucking expensive and so everyone has to pirate shit. This sounds like the US.

Everyone is TALL. Like VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY TALL. The standard of height is insanely different from India. TALL.

If you don't have a last name you're going to get into legal trouble.

The no hat no play rule applies here as well as Australia apparently.

The wine cost like 2.5 dollars in USD if my conversion rates are correct, it smells like battery acid and tastes of rotted grapes. Nothing to do with South Africa, it's just that I cannot remember a single other thing about South Africa other than it's a country in Africa that's presumably in the South.

My braincells are already frying. For my cousin's sake, I'm going to compile all my Australia posts here so that she knows what to expect! Australian maggots your continent is about to be graced with the Good Omens Mascot bloodline. Notably the one with the Sudha Murthy fuck up so that's doubly fun. @howmanyholesinswisscheese, @im-a-sentient-magic-carpet, @madfangirlontheloose @obsessed-sketches @drconstellation and any other Aussie maggots be prepared and welcome her.

Toot Toot Chugga Chugga by the Wiggles is an Ineffable Husbands Song

Deaths in Australia in 2015, an ask

VEGEMITE IS NOT MARMITE, another passionate ask

Pt I Australia but I've never been there

Pt II Australia but I've never been there

Oh I hate cheap wine. @imchronicallyonlinesowhat I hope you appreciate this, blood of mine. I'm such a great cousin.

[trans-luis-serra-navarro]

Silly silly ‘what-if-Luis-never-died’ headcannon that I hold so so near and dear to my heart is that Leon taught Luis basic hand-to-hand combat and how to wield a knife in the gentlest most affectionate way possible

Standing behind him and holding his arms in position. Showing him how to stand first before offering out his hand for Luis to hold for balance. Trying to make the entire ordeal easier on him by comparing the way he twirls his knife to the way Luis twirls his lighter so so effortlessly. Leon isn’t at all used to being so soft-spoken and patient with somebody else but it’s worth it a thousand times over to see that lil smile on Luis’ face after Leon tells him ‘good job’ when he finally gets it right.

It’s more like a dance for the both of them than anything else

[willthespy]

I love Dionysus kid Nico! Please draw more🍇

Dionysus!Nico definitely gets extra privileges (for being the son of the camp director) and i love that for him!! long live nepotism baby Nico ‼️🤞

Things to note:

- In the upper right corner, Nico’s wearing gardening attire. While he’s no son of Demeter, he still got some harvesting powers.

- I switched the children of Zeus and Poseidon so Percy is a son of Zeus. I also did that because of the original Perseus. Also Will’s an Aphrodite kid, but I already mentioned that.

[rexscanonwife]

More official/proper ref of my Metalocalypse s/i 💖🫶💖🫶💖 I needed another milf for the books, I'm obsessed with it guys!

Like I said before she's the manager for @hotrodharts and @1980ssunflower and does a kickass job of it! She's meant to be something of a parallel to Charles whom she has THICK sexual tension with and possibly a mysterious past history with? :0 oooooo~ either way she's very fond of the boys, especially Toki, and in my dreams they see the both of them as parental figures 😊

EDIT: original meme by @tarraerae on Twitter 🫶

Flat colors!

Taglist ♡: @crushes-georg @changeling-selfship @me-myself-and-my-fos @tiny-cloud-of-flowers @sunstar-of-the-north @dearly-beeloved @adoredbyalatus @squips-ship @cherry-bomb-ships

[marshbevvie]

Richie drew this about us.

[spaceprincessleia]

I feel hysterical about how close we got to Melvika, but they ended up not meeting on screen LMAO

Fic writers, please fill the gap between her departure and Sevika settling in

[luna-loveboop]

DINK LEFT HIS HELMET

Why did he leave his helmet- there's no way that was an accident

(To the chain) And please, could yall not let Twilight near it? I'm a little worried about him that's all

From @linkeduniverse au!

[5und4y]

Canniroller — A cannibalistic attraction characterized with gambling; such as (consensually) betting for or with body parts, bets on how someone would taste, or any other acts of gambling mixed with cannibalism. This term goes either way; the user can be either the cannibal or the eaten. This can be any type of attraction (romantic, platonic, familial, etc).

the name canniroller comes from both cannibalism and high-roller. The original term (and who it was inspired by) was made by @webby-mogai (hi :3)

(this is our second time coining please be nice <\ 3)