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WE ARE TRENDING THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL

Too Sharp to Touch pt.5

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: language, mentions of blood

Summary: After a painting session with Xavier you meet up with your friend group at the dining hall, and it seems as if everyone is talking about you and Wednesday

Pairing: Wednesday x Reader

Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist

The quiet sound of a wet paintbrush slathering over canvas, paint dripping onto the tarp on the floor was the atmosphere for your slavery, taunting you as you remembered that this was all your fault.

Xavier was sitting atop his own painting stool, mid-paint, and looking at you occasionally to make sure you were still cleaning. Your pair of sweatpants was already getting coated in a layer of chalk dust as you knelt on the shed floor, scooping broken pencil shards into the Ziploc bag you’d been given with a very prominent pout on your face.

Sure, you could’ve been painting just like Xavier, getting the respect you very much deserved instead of being treated like a misbehaving child, but no. Here you were, on the floor, dirtying your second pair of pants this month, stooping under tables to reach the strayed paintbrushes.

And it was all the fault of Wednesday Addams.

Yeah sure, you’d gotten a few useful fighting tips a couple nights ago. Use your heightened senses, yadda yadda, don’t let anyone touch the fur on your neck, yadda yadda - but surely you didn’t deserve such a shove to the floor.

And no, you were not imagining the small glint of satisfaction in the goth’s eyes when you nearly busted the floor of the shed right open when the impact of your fall, a mess of paint brushes and art supplies flying around you. The hint of a smirk on her face? She took satisfaction in doing it, no matter what excuses you knew she would make.

“You done yet?” 

The scoff of the painting psychic broke you out of your thoughts when you realized you’d paused cleaning. Frowning softly, you sat back on your heels to look at the mess, or, more importantly, lack thereof. You’d cleaned up the pencils and paintbrushes and most of the chalks, but there was no way you’d be able to clean the stains of charcoal and chalk powder from the boards of the floor. You turned to Xavier and threw the bag at him, not caring if you hurt him or not (not that you put a lot of force into the throw anyway).

Your half-serious hopes of injury were quailed when Xavier chuckled at your throw, putting the ziploc on the table of art supplies, and turning back to painting. Without asking permission (which you both knew you didn’t need), you got off the floor and got into your worn painting stool, trying to dust the chalk powder off your sweatpants with a quiet grumble.

“I shouldn’t have had to clean that, I’m innocent.”

Xavier shook his head with a teasing smile as he dipped his paintbrush into his palette, continuing his smooth brushstrokes as he spoke.

“You know that when you’re in the shed alone whatever happens is your responsibility, Y/N.”

“I wasn’t alone, and it wasn’t my fault,” you insisted, eyebrows furrowing as you tossed him one last pout before turning to your painting you’d started the week before. “It was Wednesday’s fault, go and torture her and not me.” You didn’t comment on the fact that she wouldn’t mind being tortured. If you knew her she’d enjoy it.

“I don’t have a death wish, thank you,” Xavier chuckled softly again as his brush swirled around in his cup of paint water. “And what was Wednesday Addams doing in the shed last night?” The psychic leaned backward on his stool to look around his canvas and give you a raised eyebrow, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

“Fighting lessons. I already told you,” you grumbled, still in a bad mood from having to clean. “She pushed me.” You adjusted the lighting on one of the antlers of the stag, head tilting sideways as you tried to get the angle right.

“I don’t find that hard to believe,” Xavier muttered from behind his canvas. “She came up to me last night, asking about you, and she sounded pissed; more than usual, at least. Apparently, you didn’t show up.”

You scoffed slightly, trying to ignore the embarrassed heat starting to creep onto your cheeks. “I fell asleep trying to fix the heater, it was making funny noises again.” You paused a little bit, perking up slightly as you glanced at Xavier. “Wednesday asked about me?”

When you saw Xavier pause as well, glancing at you with surprise and a smirk, you froze. “Yeah, she did. Because you were late?” 

You felt the heat in your face get worse as you buried your face in the canvas again, trying to ignore Xavier’s stupid smirk as you felt his eyes on your back. 

“So how did the practice go, anyway? You were talking up a storm about it the other day.”

Oh, you knew exactly what he was doing. 

Deciding to humor him, you delicately painted a fine dark line to add a good contrast to your lighting, grinning in satisfaction as you responded, “Oh it went fine, I suppose.”

The silence that followed your response made you grin wider, but you hid it as you turned your face further into your canvas and out of view, continuing to smoothen your strokes as he responded, “That’s it? Come on, Y/N, I know it was more than that.”

“Nope,” you muttered, still thinking that he deserved some sort of payback for making you clean up the mess. “Nothing at all.”

The silence dragged on, only filled by the sound of water swishing and paintbrushes dipping into the paint before you finally couldn’t hold back what you had to say.

“Wednesday cheated. She shoved me on purpose and didn’t warn me.” You continued to complain as you added a touch of green to your forest canopy background. “Not to mention the fact that she barely taught me anything-”

You continued to grumble and gripe about your night, pausing only to catch your breath as Xavier listened, before cutting in, “Sounds like you two had a good time, aside from breaking apart my shed. Next time keep it in the academy or the woods.”

You fixed him with a glare, shaking your head as you felt the heat return to your cheeks. “It was a fighting lesson, that’s all.” Turning back to your canvas, you muttered, “And I don’t think she particularly liked your crusty old shed anyways.”

“Keep talking like that and you won’t get to use my crusty old shed,” Xavier snarked, throwing a paintbrush at your head, which you dodged. “And clearly it wasn’t just a fighting lesson, you’ve been walking around in a trance all day. Did she, like, poison you or something?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her.” You turned your attention back to your canvas to try and get rid of the now very prominent blush on your face. 

You leaned toward the canvas, switching out for the smaller brush to hone in on the detail of the bloodstain. Yes, you’d used the pigs blood from the bloodstain thing you’d done with Wednesday. It made the piece more genuine, at least in your mind. 

When you leaned in you started to drag your brush delicately down the canvas when something made you freeze. You picked up a scent on your painting. No, it wasn’t the scent of blood, oils or acrylics. It was faint, maybe two or three days old, but it was a scent you knew. The scent of dead leaves and darkness, an underlying tone of death lingering behind it. 

Wednesday?

Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you continued to hover right in front of your canvas, setting your brush down so you could focus. Not only had she been near it but she had touched it. That much you knew. Yet you were still confused. Had she been here some other time? Why would she touch your painting of all the paintings there were here?

“Uhh… Y/N?”

Xavier’s confused voice broke through your thoughts as you realized you had been hunched weirdly in front of your canvas for a bit, lost in confusion and still scenting the last traces of Wednesday on your canvas. Embarrassed, you straightened quickly, muttering out an excuse about seeing a bug, and tried to focus on your painting as you reached for the paintbrush again.

-

You stood and stretched, glancing outside at the sky that was beginning to darken, the last golden rays of sun fading out slowly. Your painting was definitely coming along nicely; you’d gotten a lot of the lighting done, and the background was nearly finished; you’d have to fix the bloodstain another time. Blood definitely wasn’t something easy to paint with. 

You put your brushes away and scooted your stool back into place as you glanced at Xavier, who had his headphones on. Walking over, you nudged him, gesturing outside to let him know you were leaving.

The psychic merely nodded at you in acknowledgment, handing you the Ziploc full of the broken art supplies for you to keep before turning back to his art, and you slipped out of the shed, leaving him to his devices as you threw your shoulder into the creaky door to close it fully.

Your stomach was growling by the time you arrived at the main building, jogging up the stairs as you made a beeline for the dining hall, weaving easily through students. God, you were starving. If they were out of yogurt cups again you were going to claw someone.

Upon entering the dining hall, your eyes brightened at the sight of a bustling room, tables full of chatting students, not to mention those studying in the corner. Fidgeting impatiently you got in line, grabbing yourself a Coke. You spotted the last yogurt cup in the cooler and reached for it, only for it to be swiped from your reach by someone ahead of you in line.

Growling with frustration, you had to stop yourself from literally clawing it out of the student's hands, reminding yourself to have some self-control as you watched the student walk off with what should have been your property. 

Damnit.

Your hands felt empty carrying only your coke (ignoring the Ziploc bag of broken art supplies), as you walked toward your usual table, Enid, Bianca, Yoko, and Divina were already seated and chatting together.

“Move,” you huffed, nudging the tip of the blonde’s blazer as your hands were full. You scooted in between Yoko and Enid, setting the bag of art supplies at your feet and cracking open the coke with a claw, shotgunning it.

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Bianca observed from across the table, giving you a smirk as she took a bite of salad. “What was it this time?”

You paused mid-shotgun to groan. “I was so close to getting that yogurt cup I could taste it.” Your words came out more of a whine than a groan. 

“Don’t be late next time, then! What took you so long?” Enid elbowed your side, almost causing you to spit your coke out all over yourself as you kicked her back under the table with equal force.

“I had to clean up this giant mess in Xavier’s shed,” you grumbled. “Leftovers from fighting practice.”

“Fighting practice! Everyone’s been talking about your fighting practice and I want the tea, so spill.” Enid raised an eyebrow at you, taking a sip of her own tea as she grinned. 

“Not everyone.” Yoko scoffed from across the table, rolling her eyes as she chuckled a little at the blonde’s exaggeration. “Us, Enid. We’ve been talking about it, not the whole school.”

“Yeah, because we want to know how in hell you managed to not only get lessons with her but somehow not get killed in the process,” Bianca raised an eyebrow, pointing her plastic fork at you for emphasis as she spoke. “She must be using you somehow.”

Enid jumped in to defend her roommate quickly. “Hey, Wednesday doesn’t use people-!”

The table burst into conversation and argument, nothing too serious, and you just listened as you chugged the rest of your coke, the sound of it melding quite nicely with the noisy chatter of the dining hall.

You clearly weren’t paying attention because one second everyone was fighting and the next Wednesday was standing right behind you and Enid, and this time you did choke on your coke, the soda going down the wrong pipe and causing you to cough as you covered your mouth, embarrassed.

“Speak of the devil,” Bianca muttered, rolling her eyes at the sight of Wednesday.

“Don’t flatter me,” came the response, the raven glaring at the siren with such a gaze that could make a grown man cry. Addressing nobody else, she turned to Enid. “I’d appreciate your assistance using this.”

Wednesday handed the blonde her phone. It was the one you knew Xavier had given her and not once had you seen her use it, not that you assumed she knew how. 

Enid tapped on it a couple times, adjusting some things on screen before handing it back to Wednesday, who frowned in slight distaste at the phone. nodding her thanks and turning on her heel. 

As she walked past you she placed a yogurt cup in front of you, not even making eye contact as she did so.

“Addams’ giving gifts?” Bianca snickered, raising an eyebrow to tease Wednesday, who glared coldly in response, hissing. “Thing retrieved the yogurt cup for me. Seeing as I have no regard for anything slightly sweet it was of no use to me and I was to get it out of my hands.”

The raven locked eyes with you at the end of her sentence and you felt a very noticeable blush ride to your face as you met her glare. 

“Suggest anything personal such as me giving anyone a gift again, Barclay, and I’ll filet your scales out one by one.” Wednesday threatened the siren coldly. Her eyes met yours once more, something flickering within them before she turned and left. As you watched her go, no you did not see Thing anywhere near her, nor could scent him.

Liar.

You dug your spoon into the yogurt, mixing the berries together, suddenly aware of the silence around you. You paused and looked up, raising an eyebrow. “What-?”

“Nothingggg!” Enid said in a singsong tone, giggling as she looked at you. “I just think that someone maybe has a little crush?”

The blonde’s words were met with a chorus of agreement and laughter, save Bianca who still looked pissed from her conversation with Wednesday, to no surprise.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed as you spooned your yogurt, the blush on your face getting darker. Damnit. Yoko slammed her palm on the table, pointing at you.

“Your tells don’t lie, Y/N. I’ve never seen your face that shade of red before. Something’s up.”

You groaned, glaring at her without a retort to fire back. You were going to get her back for it. You kicked her shin underneath the table, smirking with satisfaction when the vampire winced.

“Look, all we’re saying is that first off you totally do have a crush,” Yoko pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “But aside from that, you could get murdered. Seriously, Y/N, I’m worried for your safety. Do all werewolves have a death wish?”

“Nah, just the hot ones,” you responded sarcastically, draining the last of the yogurt cup and standing up. “I’m gonna bounce, I’m headed out for a run.”

You were met with a couple goodbyes, a nod from Bianca, and a raise of an eyebrow from Yoko, but Enid stood up with you, nodding, “Yeah I’m going with you.”

You started to speak up, confused; Enid had never shown interest in going on a run with you before - but when you saw the blonde's face, telling you to stay quiet, you did as told and nodded, walking with her out of the dining hall.

As soon as the two of you were out of sight the blonde pulled you aside in the hall, holding both of your shoulders.

“Look, I’m not gonna lie, Wednesday totally likes you,” Enid said with a grin. “It’s not like many people can tell, but seeing as I’m her roomie I can see when she’s got a soft spot for someone and you’ve got her wrapped around your finger.”

“Are you sure about that?” You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the prickling on your neck at the thought of what she was suggesting. “She seems to hate me.”

“Oh please, Y/N, wake up and smell the roses.” Enid rolled her eyes, shaking your shoulders a little. “I’m trying to help you out here.”

You sighed and muttered, “Fine. Enlighten me, oh great sensei.”

“Don’t be a dick, and listen.” Enid shook you harder. “You need to get her attention, more so than already. Show her you’re bold.”

“And how would I do that?” You said in a bit of confusion as to where this was heading.

“Maybe go out and kill something and bring it back to her? As like- to show you’re a good hunter?” The blonde didn't even notice your eyes scrunching up in distaste.

“Or I could steal something-“ You went completely off the rails, eyes sparking at your own idea as Enid frowned. “She deserves payback after making me clean up her mess.”

“Y/N, I don’t think that’s such a good idea-“ Enid shook her head, face going slightly pale. “No matter what feelings Wednesday might have towards you, she'll literally murder you if you take any of her stuff.”

“Too late!” You were grinning now, eyes alight with mischievous intent, hopping a little on your toes with the excitement of it all. “She totally deserves it.”

You were already starting to scramble down the hallway, your run forgot, but Enid grabbed our arm, speaking seriously. “Y/N, no matter what you do, just - be careful and don’t mess anything up. The fact that Wednesday likes you already means you’re on thin ice, so be careful.”

You looked at Enid and nodded impatiently. “Thanks for the advice, E, I owe you one!”

With that you turned and raced down the hall, your mind set on the prize to snatch. Something the Addams treasured, cared for, loved, even. 

The typewriter.

—————

pt.6 here!

Too Sharp to Touch pt.6

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Language, Wednesday-level threats 

Summary: Wednesday practically flips the school upside down during her search for her missing typewriter, and lo and behold look who comes to help her? None other than you.

Pairings: Wednesday x Reader

Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist

Wednesday was losing her mind.

And no, it was not as pleasant as she had imagined it would be.

It was missing. Gone. Almost as if it has never been there in the first place. 

Her typewriter - her precious, prized typewriter - was missing. 

The Addams was one who favored neatness and precision. Everything had its place and every place had its thing, ensuring that no time would be wasted and that there was no confusion in where something could be placed. If she needed something, it would be there. That was that, and that was the way that she liked it.

It was why Wednesday had a specific folder for her homework assignments, as well as one for her investigations, and another for story drabbles and ideas, all stashed carefully under her desk in their drawer where they could be easily accessed when needed.

So when the raven entered her shared dorm after a rather successful day of classes, pulling out her folder full of notes for her novel as she prepared to engage in her writing hour, when she spotted the lack of a typewriter beside her box of written pages, she was baffled. At first.

Without hesitation the first thing Wednesday did was meticulously search through every inch of Enid’s side of the dorm. The Addams hunted through every inch of pillows, nooks, crannies, and crawl space, though her attempts came to be in vain. She was unsurprised, albeit; she never truly believed that Enid would have taken it, even as maybe a prank, since the werewolf knew how much her typewriter meant to her, but everyone was a suspect when it came to things like this.  

And so the mystery began.

Of course, Wednesday loved a good mystery; she found nothing better than discovering the culprit of a complicated and mysterious case, one that would take experienced detectives hours to crack; seeing the fate of the culprit as their punishment was carried out - it was a wonderful feeling. It filled her with a sense of satisfaction.

And wouldn’t you know, the very first person to offer their help was you. You were eager, that she was sure of. It was unnerving how quickly you volunteered to help her solve the case, this tiny grin on your face every time you asked her about what the latest thing was she’d uncovered, but you weren’t the focus of her attention.

As much as she hated to admit it, Wednesday knew that Nevermore was a big school and having a werewolf with a good sense of smell would be helpful in her case, so she reluctantly allowed you to assist her, convincing herself repeatedly that it was only because she wanted to humor you.

Even worse? You weren’t that bad. She already knew you weren’t incessantly cheerful like Enid was, but you behaved yourself better than she’d expected, especially for you. It was odd, to say the least, to see the change in your behavior. Other than that, you did add helpful points to the conversation, and one or two of your suggestions weren’t as irrelevant as she’d expected.

Although Wednesday knew for certain that her typewriter had not been carelessly misplaced, she decided it wasn’t the worst of ideas to check anywhere it could have been misplaced, despite her insistence on the fact that she would never do such a thing. How could one misplace a large, expensive, prized typewriter that was only used in her dorm and her dorm alone? Impossible.

And so, the raven became sure that her assumptions had been correct from the start; foul play was indeed the only cause of her sudden loss and without a doubt when she would uncover the culprit at hand she would make their life a living hell. 

On her own the raven cut through her suspects list, starting with Bianca herself. Her week became festered with interviews as she took her time planning to take aside one of her friends (a term very loosely used), and question them mercilessly. Well - Bianca at least. The siren may have done her a favor or two a ways back but Wednesday was most certainly not one to allow mercy to anyone, especially under the circumstances. Unfortunately despite her flawless interrogation, the raven found Bianca empty handed. Ironic.

“What about Xavier?” That was your suggestion you offered when you approached her afterward, already peppering the raven with questions with that same small smile on your face that made her stomach twist.

“Xavier has no motive, Y/N, do you know anything about the pursuit of criminology?” Wednesday muttered, pulling the shoulder straps on her backpack tighter. “Use what’s left of your brain and actually think about possible suspects with valid intentions.”

Just as she expected you were already going for a kick to her shin, which she promptly dodged, continuing to walk down the hall while you surely sulked behind, most likely due to your failed attempt.

“I don’t have all day to play games and the gap is getting narrow.” Wednesday huffed, almost muttering to herself at this point as her fists clenched. “There’s an answer here.”

“What about Thing?”

Your voice broke her out of her thoughts as you jogged to catch up with her, walking alongside her as you spoke.

“He’s still pissed at you for giving him the silent treatment last week.” Your hands waved around excitedly as you talk, something that only very briefly distracted the raven.

“A punishment well deserved for an appendage who thinks it is appropriate behavior to provide useless information instead of helpful resources.” Wednesday’s eyebrows furrowed in slight annoyance as she recalled why she had refused the hand permission to assist her when she had performed her bloodstain analysis research on you in the woods a week prior. “He knows better than to hold grudges against an Addams.”

“He is an Addams, Wednesday.” The raven could practically hear you rolling your eyes as you spoke. “He’s part of your family but I wouldn’t put it past him to nab your typewriter to get revenge.”

“Couldn’t even think of the inevitable punishment he would receive,” Wednesday muttered with an eye roll of her own. “Ameuter. I’ll make sure he receives his consequences.”

The raven turned direction swiftly as she swerved from her original destination, already on track to Ophelia Hall as you caught up, the smile you had worn so frequently abruptly fading. Odd. She tried to focus on walking instead of your uncharacteristic silence. You were thinking. That she could tell.

“You’re going to like- hurt him? Right now?” You looked at her, your eyes searching hers. The raven kept her eyes ahead on the path, the students around her instinctively carving a path as she plowed through. “You can’t like- put him in timeout or something?”

Wednesday gave you a look of disgust as her lip curled into a grimace. “Y/N, suggest such a weak punishment like that again and I’ll make sure you understand an appropriate consequence.” She immediately shut down any nagging thoughts reminding her she’d never actually-

No. She needed to focus. This was not about you.

She veered the corner, before stopping in her tracks and spinning to face you with a glare. “Are you going to trail after me like a lost puppy or go make yourself of use?” Your face of insignace would be almost comical if she wasn’t so irritated with Thing. “Do as you please. I have business to attend to that will not require your inexperienced assistance.”

You huffed and folded your arms, grumbling something under your breath that the raven was almost positive was something contradicting her statement, but you nodded and turned, heading back down in the direction which you had come.

She threw open the door to her dorm, instantly spotting Thing on Enid’s bed with the blonde herself, discussing a nail care magazine the two were flipping through.

“That’s a good point, Thing, but this green might suit your complexion better,” the werewolf pointed to something on the glossy page, the hand tapping rapidly in response. “I absolutely am an expert at this, Thing, I know more about fashion than you.” A few more taps. “That’s vulgar coming from you.”

Wednesday stormed over to the bed, promptly yanking the magazine out from under Thing and handing it to the bewildered Enid, the appendage tumbling to the floor.

Before he could scuttle away the raven bent down and grabbed Thing in her hands, holding him up to her eye level as she glared at him with murderous intent. “Tell me where you put it or you’ll be receiving another scar to add to your collection.”

The appendage tapped rapidly on her hand, interrupted by Enid who stood and hurried over, laying a hand on Wednesday’s shoulder. “Willa….? What are you doing-?”

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around the hand as she met Enid’s worried expression, gesturing toward Thing with her head as she hissed, “my typewriter is missing and I wish to know why Thing took it.”

Enid paled slightly, which was confusing to the raven. “Don’t be sensitive, he’ll be receiving the attention that he clearly so desperately wants.”

Wednesday was already reaching into her pocket for her handy pocket blade that she carried on her at all times but was met with Enid’s hand on her wrist. She stiffened slightly and shot the blonde a glare, though she didn’t pull away. “Don’t interfere, Enid, I know what I’m doing.”

Yet, the werewolf didn’t move, eyes wide and face pale, mouth opening as if she wanted to say something before closing her mouth again as her gaze flitted from the hand and then back to her. “You said he took your typewriter?”

Wednesday nodded, pressing the tip of her knife to the crook of Thing’s thumb as she spoke in a dangerously low voice. “Start talking.” The hand responded with rapid and wild gestures, flailing in her hands as the raven’s fingers curled tighter around the appendage, pressing her knife firmly against his thumb, close enough to draw blood. 

“Don’t play dumb, Thing, answer the question. Where. Is. The typewriter?” Wednesday hissed, applying a little more pressure as the hand squirmed, signing wildly. Her grip faltered just slightly at the hand’s pleas; although pathetic and shameful, especially for Thing - they seemed authentic, which caught her off-guard. Shaking off her thoughts, Wednesday pressed the knife back against Thing’s smooth palm.

“It wasn’t Thing-” Enid blurted out, and Wednesday paused, slowly turning her head to stare at the blonde, eyes narrowing slightly. “It wasn’t-” the blonde trailed off with a frustrated sigh, rubbing her neck in what appeared to be an anxious gesture. The raven slowly lowered the hand, already realizing that Enid wasn’t lying. With a reproachful expression she set Thing back down on the bedspread, ignoring the hand’s rapid tappings of indignance.

“Explain. Now.”

Wednesday stared at the Enid with a glare, not budging as she folded her arms and waited for the blonde to explain, exhaling sharply through her nose. The werewolf fidgeted around with a guilty expression before groaning,

“Look, I told her that it was a bad idea, but she didn’t listen-” the blonde pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration and guilt, looking back up at Wednesday after a moment as she continued. “And you’re not allowed to murder her, but-” Wednesday didn’t even register the rest of Enid’s sentence as the answer hit her like a stab in the abdomen. You. Of course it was you. Why else would you volunteer to help her when you could’ve been off doing your own thing? That small smile she had always seen on your face when you had offered your advice? Now the mischief and deceit made sense. The fact that you had paled when she’d mentioned getting her revenge on Thing for your crime? How could she have not put the pieces together?

Even more infuriating, your advice and ideas as well as what you had suggested for suspects and information - they had all seemed so valid. How could you of all people be so foolish and yet infuriatingly genius at once? 

It was admirable.

No doubt about it, Wednesday was going to kill you. 

—————

pt.7 here!

Nevermore art dump

You might not recognize two characters and that’s because there my Oc rouge (the gray haired guy) and Victor (the one speaking Spanish) I’ll make a post about my nevermore Ocs here soon

bianca: i got arrested for being too hot.

wednesday: all charges were dropped because there was no supporting evidence.

It all started because Wednesday liked him...❤️‍🔥

I'm just saying...

Ps: sorry the filter I used in the first edit gave Xavier a glittery hue on his skin 😅, I guess this filter decided to make him look like a Twilight vampire shining under the sun rays 🤭...

Not totally out of theme...

enid: i'm asking permission to marry your daughter.

gomez: what is this, the dark ages? you know what? since you’ve asked, no you can’t. beat me in a duel first.

hi <3 i woke up with a scenario in mind and a lot of questions and heebiejeebies about it so here i am with some headcanons.

could you please for a second imagine what halloween would be like with larissa?

[gn!reader]

⭒i know she gets so excited because not only does she have the opportunity to dress up, but thanks to her powers so to speak, she can also become whatever she wants and look a thousand times cooler than anyone else. she puts on a whole show for the holiday, she loooves to do a performance of the character/whatever she chose, completely sinking into the role for the rest of the day.

what do you think her costume would be? me personally... i can't decide.

⭒which leads me to say for sure that she was a theater girl, a little performer (she told me herself this morning), for that reason she loves to wear funny clothes and put herself in someone else's skin besides her own. she loves acting, that hobby never ceased to be an important part of her life, even as she became an adult with endless responsibilities, she always found a space for this activity.

⭒every year you would do your best to be at least a little bit up to her level, and every year you are vastly outdone by your wife.

she doesn't really care what you decided to wear as long as you feel comfortable and like your outfit, the only thing she truly cares about is the time she spends with you getting dressed up together. when she sees the final product she showers you with compliments, you look ravishing even specially in the most hideous and terrifying costume.

⭒she also enjoys the process of it all, the make over, and she needs to plan everything to perfection, down to the smallest detail, at least one or two months in advance. this in between the little breaks she has from work.

⭒and yes, she does look for makeup tutorials on youtube.

⭒matching costumes is a huge yes for our silver lady.

⭒if you live together, i can say for a fact that she has boxes and boxes stored with a lot of decorations both purchased and also handmade by the two of you in previous years.

making crafts with you relaxes her like you wouldn't believe.

⭒be sure that your house will be full of candy for the children who come knocking on your door trick or treating.

⭒and if you have an out-doors relationship, as the date approaches, you pick out a small antique from the local store that she can use to set the mood in her home, or maybe something made by your own hands, which she appreciates tremendously.

⭒she likes to make a special date with you to go pumpkin picking in one of the pumpkin patches outside of town. your opinion is important to her even when it comes to little things.

⭒she is very versatile and likes to learn a little bit of everything, she is constantly looking for something new to do, so she is a fan of try and making themed cocktails not only for halloween. you can be having dinner in a comfortable silence one night a few weeks before the end of october, and suddenly she'll be talking to you with her eyes glued to the screen of her cell phone, a sweet, excited smile painted on her lips as she tells you she found a recipe that sounds delicious, already scheming what glasses she could serve them in, what cute little thing she could put on them to make them look a bit more spooky.

she has impeccable taste. we all know that.

⭒thrillers and horror movies, a nice bottle of wine, a warm blanket and a sweet cuddle on the couch are clearly your every-single-year special thing.

⭒the party she throws at the academy is simply unforgettable, to say the least. as the perfectionist that she is, she takes care of every little tiny thing until the very last minute, spares no expense and of course, seeing her students and the love of her life enjoy her efforts is more than enough pay for her.

⭒she's a teaser, she talks dirty, but she likes it discreet, classy, something that's not too explicit, but that makes it very clear what she wants to do or do to you. with all this said, halloween dirty jokes are on the table.

⭒if you're not much of a halloween lover, trust me, she'll take it upon herself to turn you into one with everything in her hands, definitely getting her way by having a slightly more... naughty costume to wear exclusively in the privacy of the four walls of her room with you that night.

keep in mind that she gets into the role like a pro ;)

⭒trick or treat kind of role play.

⭒this woman loves to give you a little something that day as if it were christmas because why not?

⭒sometimes she pulls some of her favorite costumes out of her closet and models them for you in the living room, no matter what month of the year it is, just for fun. that's quite a show too as she looks incredibly delighted by the way you applaud every time she changes outfits and gives you a brief explanation of the characteristics and personality of the character she is bringing to life at that moment.

━━━━━━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━━━━━━

hope u liked it <3

Y/N: *on the phone with her parents* Hey mom. Yeah, I'm hanging out with Larissa.

Larissa: *listening from the other room drinking hot chocolate*

Y/N: yeah, the principal of Nevermore. The woman I said I was gonna marry

Larissa: *chokes on her hot chocolate*

Y/N: *pokes her head into the kitchen* you okay, babe?

Larissa, coughing and sputtering: *wheezes* yeah

Absolutely crying and wheezing over this line from a Wednesday x Reader fic:

Lenore in my style! Love this girlie

apocalypse au anyone?

they’re talking about Lenore 😔

(Can’t believe the Deans are homophobic)