swanimagines

[swanimagines]

Yeah, apps like IG and TikTok have made people think all sites work that way, that browsing and just liking everything is enough :/ I wish it was different but less and less people reblog or interact in general every year. And like, many people have told me "you shouldn't write for interaction, you should write for you!" and I do write for myself, but I publish my writing when I want to see interaction on those. There are some fics I have written for just myself and shared it with a few friends at most, but what I publish on the internet, I wish I'd see something beyond likes.

Especially when in certain fandoms, I used to have these certain people who asked to be on my taglists, and whenever I posted a fic for a fandom they were tagged into, they were among the first ones to like and a few days later they had unliked. Their blogs were completely empty. I later learned they use the like button as a bookmark button and that meant they liked a fic, read it some time later and then, regardless they enjoyed it or not, unliked it, because the like had only acted as a bookmark. That's one reason why I discontinued taglists, it was extremely discouraging.

And now I can't help but think how many of those likes are "I enjoyed this"-like and how many are "reading this when I feel like it"-likes. And that's one reason why I stress the importance of reblogs here nowadays.

PRICE OF LOVE | JEFFERSON

Summary: Imagine being Jefferson's wife and working in a little tea shop in Storybrooke during the curse that Jefferson visits every day because he wants to see you.

There you were again. Smiling at customers, making small talk and looking as beautiful as ever. Jefferson swallowed, before forcing a small smile on his face and walked to the counter. You turned around to see him and your smile just grew wider.

"Hi Mr. Jefferson! Your usual?"

Jefferson nodded. "Yes please."

You turned around again to brew his tea, and just like yesterday, and the day before that, and that, and that, he felt a sting in his heart. You had been in love back in the Enchanted Forest, you were his wife, but now you didn't even remember him. The pain was unbearable. He wanted to say something, anything which could make you remember, but nothing came out of his mouth. Anything he would say would just push you away because you'd think he's gone bonkers. Mad as a hatter. So all he could do was stare into your beautiful eyes and think about how much he loved you, how trapped he was with all the memories of you, him and Grace, living happily in the Enchanted Forest. How you'd always come by his bed to serve him his morning tea and you'd always kiss him before he'd take the cup. Your smile made his day before he even got out of the bed, you had been so happy.

"Here's your tea," you snapped him out of his thoughts as you pushed a cup in front of him. "That makes-"

Jefferson nodded before you even finished, forcing a smile on his face again and handed you fifty dollars. "You don't have to say the price, I will always tip my favorite tea shop keeper who makes the best tea."

"You're always so kind, Mr. Jefferson," you said with another small smile and put the money into the counter. "I don't know what did I do to deserve such kindness."

He smiled at you a little wider. "You have done nothing in particular, really. Just being yourself."

You smiled at that, looking downwards, clearly flustered by his words. Then the bell rang as the door opened, and Jefferson glanced over his shoulder, seeing Regina and his smile immediately faltered. She came inside and stood beside him, smiling at you with feigned sweetness.

"I'd like some tea on the go," she said and you nodded.

"Of course, Madam Mayor. What kind of tea would you like?" you asked, gesturing towards the menu above you.

"A large chai latte," Regina told you without even looking at the menu. "And make sure it's extra hot."

"Of course," you said and made her drink, pushing it towards her. "That makes two fifty."

Regina dug her purse for a moment before giving you a few coins. Then she turned towards Jefferson. "You, with me."

Jefferson clenched his jaw, but complied, following Regina out. They walked for a little bit, before he scoffed.

"I didn't know you like chai latte, Mrs. Mayor. Pitch black tea fits more of your style."

"And I didn't know I gave you a permission to seduce her," Regina sighed. "She has a new life now, Jefferson. You have to stay out of it, or something bad might happen."

Jefferson didn't reply to that, knowing that arguing about it wouldn't change anything. He just kept quiet and followed Regina until he could turn towards his mansion. But despite Regina's warning, he knew that he'd be in your shop again tomorrow. He just had to see you, he had to see you smile, to know you're alright. He wanted to keep making you smile with his words - maybe you'd even fall in love with him again. 

He knew it all was wishful thinking, but he couldn't help but feel hopeful about it every time he saw you. Maybe it was stupid, but it kept him sane around this madness…

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[swanimagines]

Hi How are you You could write like pugsley addams is engaged to the reader and he has to introduce him to the family and the reader is a psychic (obviously if you have time or if you feel like it) Thank you .

Hi!

I'm sorry but I have to turn this down as you unfortunately broke my rules. I do not write romance for characters whose actors are minors (or were minors during filming), and I'm not comfortable to age them up either.

I do recommend reading the author's rules before requesting! About 60% of Wednesday requesters have broken them and it's pretty discouraging :(

Tagging Pugsley x reader because my experience is that anons rarely circle back to check whether their asks were answered and may only come back weeks/months later to ask if their request is still being worked on and miss the post where I have turned it down entirely, removing the tags in case the anon comes back!

[swanimagines]

I got my first hate message in months! But a pro tip: If you're so lazy you make AI write a hate message you send me, at least check you've cleaned out everything that's basically giving it away you made AI write it, as in, it doesn't begin with

"I can definitely help you craft something that sounds like a hate comment for your fictional story. Here’s an example you could use or adapt for your character:"

and end with

"Do you want me to make it more aggressive/mean-spirited (for realism) or keep it petty and whiny (for a lighter touch)?"

(I got a good laugh though so, thank you!)

Also, I'm still planning to fill the remaining requests for The Sandman, don't worry. I just need to get some stuff out of the way first.

[swanimagines]

Thank you Mary ❤️

PRICE OF LOVE | JEFFERSON

Summary: Imagine being Jefferson's wife and working in a little tea shop in Storybrooke during the curse that Jefferson visits every day because he wants to see you.

There you were again. Smiling at customers, making small talk and looking as beautiful as ever. Jefferson swallowed, before forcing a small smile on his face and walked to the counter. You turned around to see him and your smile just grew wider.

"Hi Mr. Jefferson! Your usual?"

Jefferson nodded. "Yes please."

You turned around again to brew his tea, and just like yesterday, and the day before that, and that, and that, he felt a sting in his heart. You had been in love back in the Enchanted Forest, you were his wife, but now you didn't even remember him. The pain was unbearable. He wanted to say something, anything which could make you remember, but nothing came out of his mouth. Anything he would say would just push you away because you'd think he's gone bonkers. Mad as a hatter. So all he could do was stare into your beautiful eyes and think about how much he loved you, how trapped he was with all the memories of you, him and Grace, living happily in the Enchanted Forest. How you'd always come by his bed to serve him his morning tea and you'd always kiss him before he'd take the cup. Your smile made his day before he even got out of the bed, you had been so happy.

"Here's your tea," you snapped him out of his thoughts as you pushed a cup in front of him. "That makes-"

Jefferson nodded before you even finished, forcing a smile on his face again and handed you fifty dollars. "You don't have to say the price, I will always tip my favorite tea shop keeper who makes the best tea."

"You're always so kind, Mr. Jefferson," you said with another small smile and put the money into the counter. "I don't know what did I do to deserve such kindness."

He smiled at you a little wider. "You have done nothing in particular, really. Just being yourself."

You smiled at that, looking downwards, clearly flustered by his words. Then the bell rang as the door opened, and Jefferson glanced over his shoulder, seeing Regina and his smile immediately faltered. She came inside and stood beside him, smiling at you with feigned sweetness.

"I'd like some tea on the go," she said and you nodded.

"Of course, Madam Mayor. What kind of tea would you like?" you asked, gesturing towards the menu above you.

"A large chai latte," Regina told you without even looking at the menu. "And make sure it's extra hot."

"Of course," you said and made her drink, pushing it towards her. "That makes two fifty."

Regina dug her purse for a moment before giving you a few coins. Then she turned towards Jefferson. "You, with me."

Jefferson clenched his jaw, but complied, following Regina out. They walked for a little bit, before he scoffed.

"I didn't know you like chai latte, Mrs. Mayor. Pitch black tea fits more of your style."

"And I didn't know I gave you a permission to seduce her," Regina sighed. "She has a new life now, Jefferson. You have to stay out of it, or something bad might happen."

Jefferson didn't reply to that, knowing that arguing about it wouldn't change anything. He just kept quiet and followed Regina until he could turn towards his mansion. But despite Regina's warning, he knew that he'd be in your shop again tomorrow. He just had to see you, he had to see you smile, to know you're alright. He wanted to keep making you smile with his words - maybe you'd even fall in love with him again. 

He knew it all was wishful thinking, but he couldn't help but feel hopeful about it every time he saw you. Maybe it was stupid, but it kept him sane around this madness…

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[swanimagines]

Hi, can I please request for Bianca Barclay (Wednesday) x witch!reader with the prompt G2? Thank you so much!!

Prompt: G2. Whispering something to the other’s ear

WELL ENOUGH

You usually weren’t very emotional person.

But still, somehow today was different, and you ended up crying in the girl’s bathroom after a particularly harsh feedback from the teacher.

You had been too confident, too sure, and it had blown up on your fingers. Quite literally, you thought as you worked on putting ointment on your blackened fingertips.

“Hey,” you suddenly heard from the door, and your head snapped to the side to see your girlfriend leaning against the door.

“When did you get there?” you asked, quickly wiping your tear-streaked cheeks. Bianca hadn’t seen you cry, and even though you were dating, you weren’t exactly comfortable to cry in front of her just yet. Your relationship was way too fresh for that kind of thing. Even though some might argue that you being in a relationship should automatically mean you’re comfortable with all of that, but you just weren’t that kind of person.

Bianca sighed. “Long enough to see you crying.”

“It’s nothing,” you told her quickly. “Just… I’m tired. And over-emotional when I’m tired.”

She took a step towards you. “Valerie told me your teacher shouted at you today in front of the class.”

You huffed. “I deserved it.”

She took another step towards you, now leaning on the sink beside yours. “According to what Valerie told me, it was unreasonable of him.”

You were silent for a moment, before speaking again, this time your voice was quiet. “No. He has been trying to pound how to do this one potion for weeks and I still failed in it. It was my fault, I didn’t listen well enough, just like he said.”

Silence, only broken by your quiet sniffles you tried to suppress. Then, very slowly and carefully, Bianca wrapped her arms around you.

“It was not your fault. We’re here learning. The teacher sucks, not you,” she whispered into your ear, and you couldn’t help but wrap your own arms around her, too.

“It just—”

Bianca tightened her arms around you. “No, shush. Don’t say you’re to blame. Nobody can say that about my girlfriend, not even herself.”

Your shoulders slumped at that, finally letting go of your will to fight with her, as you let tears run your cheeks. “I just feel horrible about it.”

Bianca ran her hand up and down your back. “I know. He has a way to snap pretty bad. If you want us teaching him a lesson, just say a word.”

You shook your head. “No. Not yet, at least. But thank you.”

She pulled away to meet your eyes. “I will always be here for you, alright?”

You managed a little smile at that. “Yeah. I know.”

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[swanimagines]

Preach 🗣️🗣️

I know you probably tag your every reblog with this but I just wanted to show my appreciation because your kind of people are the reason Tumblr still works, and I hope that one day more people would realise that ❤️

(Also thank you for reading and glad you enjoyed it ❤️)

PRICE OF LOVE | JEFFERSON

Summary: Imagine being Jefferson's wife and working in a little tea shop in Storybrooke during the curse that Jefferson visits every day because he wants to see you.

There you were again. Smiling at customers, making small talk and looking as beautiful as ever. Jefferson swallowed, before forcing a small smile on his face and walked to the counter. You turned around to see him and your smile just grew wider.

"Hi Mr. Jefferson! Your usual?"

Jefferson nodded. "Yes please."

You turned around again to brew his tea, and just like yesterday, and the day before that, and that, and that, he felt a sting in his heart. You had been in love back in the Enchanted Forest, you were his wife, but now you didn't even remember him. The pain was unbearable. He wanted to say something, anything which could make you remember, but nothing came out of his mouth. Anything he would say would just push you away because you'd think he's gone bonkers. Mad as a hatter. So all he could do was stare into your beautiful eyes and think about how much he loved you, how trapped he was with all the memories of you, him and Grace, living happily in the Enchanted Forest. How you'd always come by his bed to serve him his morning tea and you'd always kiss him before he'd take the cup. Your smile made his day before he even got out of the bed, you had been so happy.

"Here's your tea," you snapped him out of his thoughts as you pushed a cup in front of him. "That makes-"

Jefferson nodded before you even finished, forcing a smile on his face again and handed you fifty dollars. "You don't have to say the price, I will always tip my favorite tea shop keeper who makes the best tea."

"You're always so kind, Mr. Jefferson," you said with another small smile and put the money into the counter. "I don't know what did I do to deserve such kindness."

He smiled at you a little wider. "You have done nothing in particular, really. Just being yourself."

You smiled at that, looking downwards, clearly flustered by his words. Then the bell rang as the door opened, and Jefferson glanced over his shoulder, seeing Regina and his smile immediately faltered. She came inside and stood beside him, smiling at you with feigned sweetness.

"I'd like some tea on the go," she said and you nodded.

"Of course, Madam Mayor. What kind of tea would you like?" you asked, gesturing towards the menu above you.

"A large chai latte," Regina told you without even looking at the menu. "And make sure it's extra hot."

"Of course," you said and made her drink, pushing it towards her. "That makes two fifty."

Regina dug her purse for a moment before giving you a few coins. Then she turned towards Jefferson. "You, with me."

Jefferson clenched his jaw, but complied, following Regina out. They walked for a little bit, before he scoffed.

"I didn't know you like chai latte, Mrs. Mayor. Pitch black tea fits more of your style."

"And I didn't know I gave you a permission to seduce her," Regina sighed. "She has a new life now, Jefferson. You have to stay out of it, or something bad might happen."

Jefferson didn't reply to that, knowing that arguing about it wouldn't change anything. He just kept quiet and followed Regina until he could turn towards his mansion. But despite Regina's warning, he knew that he'd be in your shop again tomorrow. He just had to see you, he had to see you smile, to know you're alright. He wanted to keep making you smile with his words - maybe you'd even fall in love with him again. 

He knew it all was wishful thinking, but he couldn't help but feel hopeful about it every time he saw you. Maybe it was stupid, but it kept him sane around this madness…

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[swanimagines]

Haha well I'm glad the spoiler didn't bother you ❤️ Thank you for your thoughtful comment again, you're a gem 😭❤️❤️❤️❤️

(I'm sorry for late answer, I've been so incredibly stressed)

Hi, can I please request a songfic for Tyler Galpin (Wednesday) based on the song Black Heart by Stooshe, please and thank you so much?

A/N: HA! Got it out and it's not even midnight, now going to sleep, good night ->

BLACK HEART

You knew you should hate him. Like everyone else, you should hate him.

He wasn’t that sweet guy from the coffee shop, the one who abandoned the ideology of hating outcasts and instead try to understand them, falling in love with Wednesday, being a brand new person… and then it all came down and everything was proven to be a lie. He did everything only so that he could slither into Nevermore through Wednesday, help in waking up the nutjob Joseph Crackstone and destroy outcasts from the face of Earth.

You wanted to believe that red-haired psycho woman had manipulated Tyler into everything, that he was still that sweet boy from the coffee shop deep down and actually would be horrified if he was snapped out of it. That her being his master had brainwashed him too, and you could save him if you got the chance.

But you knew the truth. You were in love with a monster and desperately tried to justify it to yourself. The sweet, caring, smiling Tyler was long gone and turned into darkness of his mind, his trauma, and had gone beyond the point of saving. Nobody would be able to save him and especially not you. A normie. You knew that if he ever decided you weren’t worth keeping around, that he wouldn’t be able to use you, he’d just turn into a Hyde and get rid of you.

But every time you saw anything related to Willow Hill, you had an urge to… go visit him? Not that they’d ever let you in. But eventually, you just couldn’t take it anymore, and just on cue, you happened to hear Wednesday Addams planning to break in. And the moment she was left alone, you approached her.

“Hi!” you greeted her, and she glared at you.

“Aren’t you the Tyler Galpin apologist?” she said in her usual flat tone, and your smile dropped immediately. “I don’t have time for—”

“I heard you’re breaking in,” you interrupted her. “To Willow Hill, I mean. I don’t know why, but if you happen to see Tyler, uh…”

She cocked an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish and you closed your mouth, then opened it again, then closed it. “I’m not going to tell him you still love him and would hide him if he asked you to.”

You scoffed. “I would never—”

She shut you up with a look, and silence fell over you. She sighed again after a moment, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Fine. I’ll tell him hello from you, but I’ll also tell him that he ruined his chances for you by being a psycho murderer.”

You blinked. “Did he ever…”

“Oh, please. I may be cold-hearted and romance isn’t for people like me, but I could see how he looked at you. He would have been all over you if he wasn’t trying to manipulate me, but at the time I… didn’t see it like that.” She lowered her gaze to the floor for a moment as your heart thumped in your ears, before she raised her eyes up again. “Your shoelaces are open. While I do enjoy seeing people hurt themselves because of their own stupidity, I do not wish it for you at the moment.”

You glanced at your foot and nodded at her. “Thank you. And thank you for agreeing to give my message to Tyler.”

She let out a breath through her nose. “Just don’t think I won’t come for you if he ever escaped and disappeared. I know you’d be hiding him.”

You wanted to deny it. You wanted to believe you wouldn’t do that. But the truth was… you had a gnawing thought that if Tyler appeared behind your door, begging you to let him in, telling you he doesn’t want to die, crying, you wouldn’t be able to say no, and only a part of that would be fear that he’s turning into a Hyde and kill you if you refused to let him in.

You wanted to fix him. You had had a dozen fantasies in your head how he’d go through redemption. Even when you knew he would be past saving.

So you forced yourself to say the words you didn’t want to say. “You’re right. I’d be the prime suspect in that case and you need to come immediately, he’s dangerous, as much as I don’t want to believe it.”

She stared at you in silence for a moment longer, before she finally stepped out of the door and disappeared into the night. And you were left there wondering if the grief, the disbelief, your heartbreak, your love for Tyler, even with the monster he was willingly carrying inside him, would never go away.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[swanimagines]

I take it you enjoyed it? Thank you for commenting ❤️

Hi, can I please request a songfic for Tyler Galpin (Wednesday) based on the song Black Heart by Stooshe, please and thank you so much?

A/N: HA! Got it out and it's not even midnight, now going to sleep, good night ->

BLACK HEART

You knew you should hate him. Like everyone else, you should hate him.

He wasn’t that sweet guy from the coffee shop, the one who abandoned the ideology of hating outcasts and instead try to understand them, falling in love with Wednesday, being a brand new person… and then it all came down and everything was proven to be a lie. He did everything only so that he could slither into Nevermore through Wednesday, help in waking up the nutjob Joseph Crackstone and destroy outcasts from the face of Earth.

You wanted to believe that red-haired psycho woman had manipulated Tyler into everything, that he was still that sweet boy from the coffee shop deep down and actually would be horrified if he was snapped out of it. That her being his master had brainwashed him too, and you could save him if you got the chance.

But you knew the truth. You were in love with a monster and desperately tried to justify it to yourself. The sweet, caring, smiling Tyler was long gone and turned into darkness of his mind, his trauma, and had gone beyond the point of saving. Nobody would be able to save him and especially not you. A normie. You knew that if he ever decided you weren’t worth keeping around, that he wouldn’t be able to use you, he’d just turn into a Hyde and get rid of you.

But every time you saw anything related to Willow Hill, you had an urge to… go visit him? Not that they’d ever let you in. But eventually, you just couldn’t take it anymore, and just on cue, you happened to hear Wednesday Addams planning to break in. And the moment she was left alone, you approached her.

“Hi!” you greeted her, and she glared at you.

“Aren’t you the Tyler Galpin apologist?” she said in her usual flat tone, and your smile dropped immediately. “I don’t have time for—”

“I heard you’re breaking in,” you interrupted her. “To Willow Hill, I mean. I don’t know why, but if you happen to see Tyler, uh…”

She cocked an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish and you closed your mouth, then opened it again, then closed it. “I’m not going to tell him you still love him and would hide him if he asked you to.”

You scoffed. “I would never—”

She shut you up with a look, and silence fell over you. She sighed again after a moment, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Fine. I’ll tell him hello from you, but I’ll also tell him that he ruined his chances for you by being a psycho murderer.”

You blinked. “Did he ever…”

“Oh, please. I may be cold-hearted and romance isn’t for people like me, but I could see how he looked at you. He would have been all over you if he wasn’t trying to manipulate me, but at the time I… didn’t see it like that.” She lowered her gaze to the floor for a moment as your heart thumped in your ears, before she raised her eyes up again. “Your shoelaces are open. While I do enjoy seeing people hurt themselves because of their own stupidity, I do not wish it for you at the moment.”

You glanced at your foot and nodded at her. “Thank you. And thank you for agreeing to give my message to Tyler.”

She let out a breath through her nose. “Just don’t think I won’t come for you if he ever escaped and disappeared. I know you’d be hiding him.”

You wanted to deny it. You wanted to believe you wouldn’t do that. But the truth was… you had a gnawing thought that if Tyler appeared behind your door, begging you to let him in, telling you he doesn’t want to die, crying, you wouldn’t be able to say no, and only a part of that would be fear that he’s turning into a Hyde and kill you if you refused to let him in.

You wanted to fix him. You had had a dozen fantasies in your head how he’d go through redemption. Even when you knew he would be past saving.

So you forced yourself to say the words you didn’t want to say. “You’re right. I’d be the prime suspect in that case and you need to come immediately, he’s dangerous, as much as I don’t want to believe it.”

She stared at you in silence for a moment longer, before she finally stepped out of the door and disappeared into the night. And you were left there wondering if the grief, the disbelief, your heartbreak, your love for Tyler, even with the monster he was willingly carrying inside him, would never go away.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[swanimagines]

💓💓

Could you do headcanons for dating The Corinthian? (The Sandman) Thank you!

DATING THE CORINTHIAN:

You were actually a dream when you met The Corinthian.

At first, you hated him. He was cocky and wanted to be the master of people, when he was supposed to serve them.

But, over time, he managed to charm you.

He managed to make you flustered.

He started flirting with you as soon as he noticed you weren’t as hostile as you were before.

And eventually…

He corrupted you, meaning Morpheus noticed you no longer had the qualities of a dream and demoted you into a nightmare.

It caused you deep resentment toward your master.

Which in turn caused you to bond with The Corinthian even more.

Morpheus was unaware of your budding romance at first.

Or maybe he was indifferent about it.

But then…

The Corinthian suggested a plan.

A crazy plan.

To escape The Dreaming and go to The Waking World to feed on people.

And you were on board with him immediately.

You make up some nicknames for him because introducing him as “The Corinthian” to everyone was earning the two of you weird looks.

(He doesn’t really like any of them though)

You also made up a name for yourself to blend in with humans.

Morpheus had made a small mistake with your nightmare form, but basically you could take any form you wanted to blend in. As a nightmare, you should have used it to scare people by pretending to be someone they love, but now you had a free hand to sculpt yourself into whoever or whatever you wanted.

It was really convenient when you aided your boyfriend with hunting for eyes.

You could read people, read into what kind of person you should morph into to get their trust, and walk them right into a trap.

And the best part was you would never get caught.

News outlets always had the same story, but it seemed like the serial killer had dozens and dozens of accomplices from small children needing help to find their mummy, to elderly people who asked for help after they lost their walker.

It was absurd, the police was at loss and everyone was horrified.

And you fed on the fear, dancing in the middle of the chaos you caused.

But then, the expected happened.

Morpheus found you.

The Corinthian tried to reason with him.

“You gave me a life purpose. A partner at the side of it too. But I’m a big boy, I want something I did.” -The Corinthian

“That is not for you to decide.” -Morpheus, as he dug up a fistful of sand.

You were just about to lunge at your master, give your life for your love’s, but then suddenly Morpheus staggered back… and disappeared.

You stumbled to The Corinthian, helping him up.

He looked around, confused, before smirking. “Looks like we are allowed to be around a little longer, sweetheart.”

And for the next hundred years, you caused chaos and terror, bathing in fame…

A little dream had turned into a nightmare and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[swanimagines]

You're welcome, glad you liked it ❤️

(I'm sorry for late answer, I've been so incredibly stressed)

Oooo hii long time no request!!😅😅

If it’s okay, can I please request a oneshot (or imagine, whichever works best for you!!) with Morpheus x fem!human!reader where she is Alex Burgess and Paul’s Granddaughter, and she’s visiting her Grandparents after years of moving away, and even though she has been told ever since she was a kid to stay away from the basement, her curiosity gets the best of her and she goes down there anyways, happening upon a locked up Morpheus. I’m sure he’d be skeptical to trust her, knowing that she’s one, a human, and two, a Burgess, but when she starts actively trying to free him, he starts (gradually) to change his mind about her, especially when she manages to get him out of the fishbowl-like-cage he was locked in. Maybe he wants to repay her for helping to free him, and he shows her the Dreaming and they get (romantically) closer the longer she stays there?? Whatever you think!!💜💜💜

A/N: Fun to have filled your request again, it's been like 5 years since you last sent me something haha :D Also just a reminder, this request is oneshot sized so it doesn't even qualify as a ficlet/imagine request, which means I didn't really choose to make this a oneshot, the size of the request demands a oneshot. Just a reminder for anyone who may see this and misunderstand how do different request types work.

Also a little extra note because I'm sorry if it feels like I cut the corners too much, I know I stress the "detailed plot for a oneshot please" but your request unfortunately is far too detailed for a oneshot and if I wrote this JUST as you requested, a oneshot wouldn't be enough, at least not with my writing skills. And I'm not built for longfics so :/ I had to cut corners from some things that would need a looooong buildup for it to feel in character. I hope that's fine and you won't be too disappointed.

THE MAN IN THE CELLAR

Summers were the best time of the year, honestly. Getting away from your busy life, responsibilities and duties you had when you were born into a respectable family.

But during summers, your grandparents took you to stay with them at their manor, away from the city’s grime and everything you loathed. At certain things, city life could be fun, convenient and vivid, but you had always preferred the countryside, and the big manor your grandfathers owned was a perfect place for that.

The manor had its mysteries, like every old building had. The cellar in particular had been off limits for you since you were a child, your grandfather Alex had explained that his father had been a cruel man, backed up with your granddad Paul. And that the cellar had old relics, demonic artefacts, you’d better not see. And for years, you accepted that — you had read about your great-grandfather Roderick Burgess and the horrors he was rumoured on doing. You had tried to be curious about it when you were younger and asked your grandfather how was his father in real life, but he always avoided the topic and refused from telling more than what you could read from old articles.

It had been a long time since those times now, and you were already a young woman who was kind of expected to find a husband and establish a family soon, but your grandparents never poked you with questions like that, thankfully. You sometimes wondered how you were living in 21st century while constantly being asked about whether you’ve already found a man, but you always managed to brush it off.

This summer was a little different from past ones. Grandfather Alex had been irritated somehow, and constantly visited the cellar when he and Paul thought you weren’t watching them. If it was truly full of “demonic artefacts” your great-grandfather left behind, why was he so eager to look through them, constantly? And why he was snappy every time he came back up?

And one day, you heard him mutter to granddad Paul, “He’s never giving up. He’d be there for an eternity rather than just promise he won’t hurt us.”

Paul sighed. “Maybe we should let him out, Alex and just… trust him. It’s just not worth it to fear for our own safety, you have seen what keeping him prisoner has–”

“And risk our lives? Risk our daughter’s life? Her family’s life? What if he wants revenge and wants to wipe all of us Burgesses off the face of the Earth? How could I let him out, when I know we may wake up the next morning to find our own granddaughter–”

Creak.

They stopped talking and you cursed at stepping on that one plank you always knew to avoid when you were a child and tried to sneak to the snack jar. But you sighed and stepped forward, trying to pretend you hadn’t heard anything, plastering a smile on your face.

Both of them looked at you with wide eyes, and you frowned, trying your hardest to look puzzled. “What?”

Your grandfather pursed his lips together and waved at your granddad, who started pushing him forward and they both smiled at you. “Nothing. Good night, sweetie.”

You watched at them go towards the elevator, and glanced back to the cellar door. Well, now it intrigued you more than ever, and you also happened to know the passcode… so maybe you should just take a small peek.

You shouldn’t, you knew that. But maybe… just a peek.

At night, you waited until you were sure your grandparents had fallen asleep, before you quietly exited the guest bedroom and tiptoed downstairs. You barely even breathed as you typed in the passcode, slightly flinching at every beep it made. But you somehow got it right on first try, and slipped in, before you were stopped on your tracks again once you heard two voices chatting to each other.

“He’s been here for decades and has never even tried to escape, why the fuss?” a man asked and the woman smacked her lips.

“Have you even seen the news articles about the time boss’s father was still alive?”

The man sighed. “Stories often bend around enough to be something completely different from what they started from. If I started out a rumour about you that you like to keep a garden, in a few decades it would have turned into your daughter being a serial killer who buries her victims into your garden.”

You took two careful steps forward, and finally saw… a man. Sitting naked in a large glass ball.

What the hell?

You stared at him, not even blinking.

Why did your grandparents have a naked man as a prisoner in their cellar?

It was just absurd. If someone had told you this was the reason why you weren’t allowed to go to the cellar, you would have laughed for an hour about that thought, mocked the person for being delusional. Your grandparents were the last people to keep a human being a prisoner and have guards to watch over him.

But here you were, looking at the very proof they had done that exact thing.

—-—-

You started visiting the cellar every night after that. Something in him just drew you there every single night, and it wasn’t long before you started learning the patterns of the guards, when one of them fetched something to eat for both of them, the bathroom breaks, the moment the male guard felt like he can slack for a few minutes when the female one didn’t see…

You had found a place for yourself in the corner, there was a space, a dent in the shadows you could squeeze yourself into when guards passed you, and they never noticed.

You didn’t know if that man inside the glass ball noticed you either, as he always just sat there looking at his feet, never looking around, seeming like he never even slept. He just sat there in that same position, night after night.

You weren’t sure when you started feeling like it actually wasn’t a human. You remembered reading news articles about your great-grandfather having a demon trapped in his cellar, was this the demon?

But he didn’t feel like a demon.

But… on the other hand, isn’t that what demons are supposed to be? Trick people into thinking they aren’t demons so they’d open the gates to be possessed?

But the longer you thought of it, the longer you just couldn’t help the thought. You had to get that man out of there. Something wasn’t right, and he needed to get out.

So, you began planning how you’d get past the guards, break the sigils, break the glass. You knew any of that wouldn’t be easy, but you set your mind to it.

—-—-

It took weeks. Maybe a month or two, you lost count. In any case, your summer vacation was almost over when you finally, finally managed to switch the pills they used to stay awake to strong sleeping pills, and soon both guards snored loudly on their desks, which encouraged you to finally move from the dent and sneak past them.

The man didn’t look at you, didn’t even acknowledge you. You didn’t even know if he saw you. Was the glass a two-way mirror? You frowned, before you knocked on the glass to get his attention.

Still no effect. He was ignoring you on purpose.

Well, that wasn’t a wonder honestly, he had been imprisoned for God knows how long, he had probably lost all hope at this point.

You glanced back at the guards. Still out cold, so you snuck back and started digging through their drawers for a key, a wrench, a crowbar… something you could use to open the glass ball as you recognised the glass type, it definitely wouldn’t shatter even if you slammed it with a sledgehammer. But there was nothing there, which made you groan out of frustration.

Then, you remembered the sigils. You looked down on them for a moment before you snatched the water bottle from the other guard and marched back to the glass ball, pouring water on the sigils and rubbed it around with your foot. The sigils smudged away, but there wasn’t any magical wave or a whiplash you expected, which made you drop the bottle in frustration.

At least the man now looked at your shoe, that had turned faint yellow from rubbing it against the paint. He was probably disappointed too.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to get you out,” you murmured against the glass. “I… I’ve been watching you for weeks now. I just… I just have this feeling you need to get out. I don’t know why, but I just can’t get it out of my head. I think you—”

You were interrupted as you heard your name being called from upstairs by your grandfather, which made you flinch and the man looked up. You sighed, closing your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Then, you sprinted away, pretending you were merely getting a glass of water before your grandfather could make his way downstairs, smile at him and claim everything is fine and you definitely weren’t trying to get the naked man in his cellar out.

But you still knew that you didn’t know how to forget and give up, when there was clearly nothing you could do.

—-—-

Next morning, you woke up to your grandfather shouting. “What do you mean he has disappeared?!”

“I don’t know, boss! We both fell asleep—”

“Fell asleep? You mean to say you forgot—”

“No, we took them, but somehow we still fell asleep! Maybe the sigils had weakened over the years and he managed to enchant us!”

You sat up slowly, listening to the ruckus. People pacing, running around.

He had escaped?

You let out a disbelieving breath, you had succeeded? Breaking the circle had worked?

Apparently that was exactly what happened.

—-—-

A few weeks later, you dreamed. For the first time in your life, you had a dream. A beautiful, neverending field with golden straws of rye spread around you and in the middle of it all stood a tree. And under that tree, stood a man in a long black cape. You recognised him immediately.

“You’re… here,” you mumbled, and he smiled softly.

“Yes. You freed me.”

You blinked. “How? I mean, obviously the sigils… but how did you get away without anyone noticing?”

He turned his eyes away from you, looking around the field. “I created a portal here, to my realm.”

You flinched slightly. “So… do you mean to say you are a demon after all?”

He chuckled. “This is not Hell. I am Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams. Children know me as the Sandman.”

You frowned. “Sandman?”

He hummed. “I was planning on cursing Alexander Burgess with eternal nightmares, but you being his granddaughter changed my mind. I do not wish to bestow such grief over you after this gift you gave me.”

You blinked. “…Thank you.”

He turned his eyes on you again. “You came to see me every night. You plotted on my escape for weeks. And for that, I am eternally grateful. The world order is restored, much because of you.”

You felt yourself blush and turned your head away from him. “I just did what I knew was right.”

He hummed again. “I wish to show you my realm. I know you have never visited here, as you were born when I was already imprisoned.”

You looked around again, and the field had shifted, replaced by a small town and a castle. “What is this place?”

He started walking slowly, prompting you to follow. “It’s The Dreaming. You will visit here every night in your dreams. Your dreams will be affected by what you went through during daytime.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. You didn’t know what to say to that. You felt his eyes on you, and you glanced at him shyly. “Will I see you every night?”

His mouth parted slightly before he frowned. “I do not usually appear into mortal dreams unless there is something I need to see.”

Your shoulders sagged slightly. “Oh.”

He was quiet for a moment. “But I may make an exception with you. I may not be able to appear every night, but I would like to meet with you any time I am able to.”

You brightened up instantly. “Really?”

He smiled softly again and hummed. You smiled at him widely, feeling a flutter in your chest, unaware Morpheus felt a flutter in his own chest too when looking at you smiling.

This could become something beautiful.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[swanimagines]

❤️

(I'm sorry for late answer, I've been so incredibly stressed)

I’m sorry about that. Hi, can I please request the prompts E32 for Corinthian (The Sandman) please? Thank you! ☺️

A/N: It's ok, thank you for understanding ❤️

Also for anyone reading this after watching Part 2 of S2: this was requested just before S2 Part 1 came out and was written shortly after it was requested, so he's based on S1 The Corinthian, not the redeemed one. So I'm sorry if you were hoping to find a fic for "new" Corinthian and/or feel like this is mistagged because of that. This was originally going to be published 1½ weeks ago, but unfortunately due to something sad that happened irl just a day before this would have been published, I had to push everything back because otherwise my writing pace would have been left behind my publishing pace, which could have caused immense stress and ultimately a full-stop lengthy hiatus instead of a mini hiatus lasting for a week. (My autism says hello)

Prompt: E32. Having a deep conversation

HE'S COMING

The rain pattered against the windowsill as you sat across from the nightmare, who was currently cleaning his knife. Silence in the room was kind of suffocating, but you didn’t really feel like speaking when he was like that, frustrated about the information he had acquired.

The Corinthian’s rage against his master was truly palpable. He had managed to swipe you with him when he escaped The Dreaming, telling you he finds you interesting and wants to get to know you a little better. You were reluctant at first, but you did admit you felt something for him, something your master wouldn’t have approved if he ever found out about you two. Or maybe he already knew, and now you were both traitors who would be destroyed when found.

“He’s escaped hasn’t he?” you mumbled, and Corinthian paused with cleaning his knife, his head turning towards you slightly.

“Yes.”

You swallowed. “He’s coming for us.”

“Not if we catch Rose Walker first and convince her to destroy him.”

You took in a breath. “What will happen if we destroy him? To the world, I mean?”

Corinthian flicked the knife shut and pocketed it. “Another will take his place, and we’re making sure it’s someone we can mold into what’s best for us. Dream is serving the humankind and is always overlooking us over humankind.”

You hummed, looking down at the floor with a few bloody droplets scattered around. You raised your eyes to Corinthian again. “What if we can’t—”

Corinthian took a hold of your chin, tilting your head up. “It’s not what if we can’t find her, it’s when we find her. I’d have thought you already knew I don’t plan on failing, my sweet nightmare.”

Him calling you his never failed to cause flutters in your abdomen. So you nodded, your face blazing with his words. “I know.”

He let go of your chin, his fingers dragging along your jaw before retreating. “Good.”

You blinked a few times to focus again. “Have you ever respected him? The Dream Lord?”

He huffed. “It’s been centuries but… yes. I did once.”

You tilted your head. “Why did you change your mind about him?”

He paused, opening his mouth for a moment before speaking. “I mostly respected him because he gave me life. But eventually, as I saw how sickeningly dutiful he was, how he always put the humankind over his own people… I realised I don’t have to respect him because he doesn’t respect me either.”

Silence ensued from that, before he approached you again. “But now… as we aren’t under his power anymore, we can do whatever we want, my sweet nightmare.”

You smirked at him. “Yes. I know we can. And I’ll go wherever will you go.”

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[swanimagines]

(I know it looks like I have ChatGPT open, but it's Ellipsus, aka the anti-genAI alternative for Google Docs, where I do my writing, Bianca Barclay prompt fic in progress!)

I got a pretty cool "new" desk for my PC 👍🏻 (Not new-new, second hand + made some extra handywork so it fits my personal needs)

I already noticed it's much more ergonomically comfortable to work at because it's FINALLY something that's meant for DESKTOP computers instead of laptops. The last one was like 20+ years old and I was constantly struggling with the space so this is much much more comfortable 🎉

(Going to get a small filing cabinet for all the extra stuff, which I'll put opposite from my computer unit and then it's perfect)

[swanimagines]

Hi, can I please request a Wednesday (Netflix) songfic for Enid Sinclair with the song “Pink Pony Club” by Chappell Roan, please? Thank you so much!!

PINK PONY CLUB

The neon lights of the club cast lights on the streets as you and Enid made your way towards the club entrance. You weren’t entirely sure who had arranged a party around the colour pink, glitter and horses, but the moment Enid had heard about it, she was immediately all over you, begging you to come along with her. And after a moment of her almost bribing you, you agreed.

So here you were, in your pink outfits, Enid of course pinkier than you because she owned at least ten all pink outfits while you had to dig through your closet for a moment to fit the dress code, in line, looking at the doorman checking if you all were from the school.

“I hope the whole block won’t call the police after us,” you wondered. “The music is kind of loud.”

Enid grinned and shook her head. “Oh, no one lives around here anymore, this club arranges exclusive parties almost every night and this volume is like, one tenth of what it is on wildest of nights. The ground is basically trembling under the bass, I’m glad we’re miles away at the school those nights.”

Your turn came, you showed the guy your school passports and with a grunt, he nodded you to go in.

As soon as you got in, you noticed that the club was definitely living up to the theme. Even the bar stools were covered in a pink sheet, and the bulky, usually scary looking bartender had dressed as an unicorn. Enid giggled at the sight, he did not look happy.

The next hours went by quickly, you downed an unholu amount of non-alcoholic drinks and shots, watched someone argue with the bartender about being legal age to drink alcohol and just… enjoyed what you had on that moment.

But, as expected, after a while you began to feel tired. The day had been exhausting and even though you were going to party that night, it didn’t mean you could have skipped schoolwork earlier that day, and now all that work was reminding you as you yawned.

“Are you that bored?” she asked with a giggle, and you shook your head.

“It’s just… I woke before sunrise today because I didn’t finish my essay before falling to sleep and you know how that old hag of a teacher would have forced me to stay overnight if she learned I hadn’t finished it for her class.”

Enid glanced at the clock, which was almost one at the morning. “If you want to go home, it’s okay. I’ll stay here for a while longer.”

“I don’t need to go home, because I feel at home anywhere if I’m with you,” you replied to her without a beat, and she straightened up immediately, her eyes sparkling and not just with that layer of glitter.

“Well, in that case, c’mon,” she said, grabbing your hand. “I wanna dance with you.”

With a laugh, you let her pull you into the dance floor, let her to pull you in close. This moment shared in this pink pony club party was everything, and you knew you would smile at the memory for a very long time.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[swanimagines]

I managed to proofread my last Wednesday request from pre-July 17 (it will be publishing in a moment), so the next requests from that are still unwritten. I haven't actually written anything after what started happening on and after July 17, only proofread and edited typos out, so please bear with me and be prepared for delays. I don't know yet if I'm able to keep myself together and work in time when these proofreads have been late at times as well. Like this one that I'm about to publish was supposed to go up yesterday.

Of course, this may also turn out to be incredibly easy for me and I'll be just flying through requests like I did pre-July 17, but it's better to assume it's going to be hard because a lot has changed since I last actually wrote. I'm really sorry if I will cause disappointments because of delays or even having to push some requests back due to other fandom commitments I will have soon, but I have to prioritise my own wellbeing over requests and what requesters may expect from me.

Again if someone hasn't read through my pinned post: Wednesday will be my priority fandom until September 12. After that, from September 15 onward, I will start publishing for my other fandoms as well. I don't know yet what that means for Wednesday unfortunately, but I hope to be able to weave it in somehow.

[swanimagines]

hey, ive only popped in your askbox a couple times so u likely dont recognise me, but im an anon who’s mentioned also being a writer on here, and i just wanted to offer what little comfort i can after seeing your posts

i’m not sure if this’ll mean anything to you, but it has helped a little in my experience to remember that like 90% of these anons requesting things against rules, are people coming from a fic that mightve recently blown up, who just opened your blog from that post and dropped in a request—and writing this down i’m realising this just sounds really disheartening (i’m not saying these people aren’t inconsiderate, they definitely are and lord knows i get how discouraging it is to be treated like a machine) but my point is that they’re not, like, out to get you. maybe i’m just a bit too paranoid, but it helps me a little to remind myself that these behaviours aren’t some elaborate scheme for my downfall, and are just people being dumb.

i just want you to know that there are people out there who actually respect you as a person & recognise all the hard work you’re putting in to your writing—that’s another thing these people, who are mostly not writers themselves and just people who scroll tumblr for a story before bed, don’t understand; that even a tiny dialogue snippet requires labour & thought.

this kinda transitions into something i also wanted to mention, which is that i absolutely love seeing your shorter fics! i’m baffled by the apparent trend of people straight up demanding longer fics from authors, because, personally, i find an immense amount of joy in “short” oneshots, especially yours. you don’t owe these disrespectful people anything.

i’m not sure if any of this is even slightly comforting, but i just wanted to make sure you know you’re not alone in a sea of strangers demanding things from you. your writing is beautiful & deserving of appreciation, and i’m so sorry faceless people on the internet have such a lack of empathy as to so much as imply otherwise

Hi :) Thank you for offering comfort.

This got long so below the cut:

I think you've misunderstood me a bit, I definitely don't think rule breakers are out there to "get me" or do it out of malice, at least not anymore. At one point (2022) I did think that because every single time I replied to a rule breaker, I got like 10+ requests within the next few hours that all broke that exact same rule I just pointed out, but that doesn't really happen anymore. Like once I got a request where someone asked for Freddy Carter x reader smut, I replied just before going to sleep that I don't write real person x reader nor do I write smut, and proceeded to get 14 requests (iirc) during the night out of nowhere and they all asked smut fics for different actors, Youtubers and bands so pretty obvious if you ask me. But as I said, it doesn't really happen anymore. I do think most if not all the rule breakers saw one of my fics, thought "oh! This person writes [fandom] fics and doesn't suck!" and then proceeded to send me a request and just assume I'm comfortable with whatever they request. I've yet to get anyone coming back and being pissed off at me for not doing an exception, so far those who have come back have been apolegtic and sent me a fixed request and the rest have been silent and maybe unfollowed me at most.

And yeah people are really trigger happy nowadays especially if writers don't fill the current "standards", a while ago I mentioned in a Reddit comment that I struggle with writing my oneshots very long while not forcing myself to drag plotlines through the requested hoops and make up ways how to REALLY drag out the plot, and that's why even 2k+ is a rare treat but that's just my style to write and I've come to terms with it, and I got 4 downvotes before some upvotes, and someone commented oneshots below 10k just makes them angry because apparently nowadays oneshots standard is to be so incredibly long and it makes me so nervous. People loooove to argue with me on it sometimes if they send me a "suggestion" that I should make my content longer because my writing deserves to get to be longer + I would get more readers if I just made them longer, "it can't be that hard to just write a few thousand words more if you just try!" Same thing with BatBP, the most common encouragement I get on that is that "just believe in yourself" and I'm magically able to finish it just like that. I'm still intending to finish it one day, but I need to get myself on check before that. I'm slightly worried though, because BatBP has already produced some people who think that me having gotten out 22k for it is a proof that I'm actually able to write more of that, instead of a failure because it's incredibly hard for me and I really regret ever starting it. So if/hopefully when I've finally finished it, will those people multiply and assume I'm able to write more multichapters and keep telling me my writing is too good for them to believe I'd fail, "look at BatBP, how were you able to write that one if you claim you can't write multichapters", etc etc. Again, the key word, according to them, is to "believe in myself". I've come to really hate that saying because of that tbh. But again, anyone who has commented "hi, this fic is awesome and I hope that you will make it a longfic because the idea has huge potential to be one!" lately has understood when I said no, either by actually saying they understand or staying silent. I really only get pep talks about multichapters and such through IM's and sometimes requesters also tell me to just believe in myself when I tell them I don't feel confident about writing their request.

I feel like the rise of ChatGPT also has effect on how readers understand writers even less. A bot writes stories, albeit mid stories, and there's also writers who are able to fill 5 requests the day they get them, which makes readers think everyone is like that, cue impatience when someone isn't as fast in updating as those other writers are. And also the fact that some writers use ChatGPT as a "helper" because, in their words, without it they don't have time to keep up the pace their requesters require. I'm of course not saying all fast writers use ChatGPT but there are a bunch who admit using it or make a mistake and leave a "how's that? Do you want me to continue with x and y, or would you prefer leaving it here?" in the middle of the fic, which earns an instant block from me and I'm also a lot more careful in reading fics and prefer reading from those who I recognise from pre-ChatGPT and know for a fact to also despise genAI. Nowadays I really only check tags to see if they work/if my posts appear, and also check double requests.

Thank you <3 I'm glad to know there are people who respect my work, even if I don't update as much as I once did. I do feel like I've fallen off the wagon because I very VERY rarely get anything like this, small tokens of appreciation or comments that aren't just "part 2?" I know that entitled authors are also on the rise and I've seen authors who got a "omg I love your writing" answering with "thanks, but it would help if you elaborated WHY you like my writing, what's your favourite thing etc, you know, the basic stuff????? This literally doesn't give me anything because I don't know what to improve. I hope you keep this in mind the next time you comment to someone, especially if they're a stranger!" and... yeah, seeing those definitely makes me rethink of whether readers are just lazy to show their appreciation, even lazier than before, or if those authors also have a ticket on it.

But yeah, again, thank you for sending this, it did cheer me up <3 It's bedtime in an hour so this is a nice way to end my evening here ❤️

[swanimagines]

Pugsly x reader where reader notices hes not getting along with people and they leave him out so she decides to hang out and she helps him take care of slurp and eventually they start liking each other

Hi, I need to turn these both down, as you unfortunately broke my rules with both of these requests. Again, I do urge you to read them before requesting, 80% of requests I've gotten for Wednesday have broken my rules and again, if my rules are unclear, I'd like people to tell me how are they unclear so I could improve them. It's hard to believe so many of you just happily skip my 100 links to my rules and arrows and flaming red highlights where I ask, beg, plead people to read them before requesting. So unless it's really all of you doing exactly that (which would be rude and disappointing) or my rules are hard to understand or are misunderstood easily, and in the latter case I do want to be informed about it and tell me how are they hard to understand.

I do not write romance for Pugsley, only platonic stuff. Reason for this is rule #11, the actor was and still is a minor and I don't feel comfortable to write romance for him because of that. If Wednesday runs long enough for the actor to reach adulthood, I'll look into it again.

Also, because this caused an argument last time I pointed this rule out with another character: I know it's just fiction and I'm allowed to write romance for all ages, his actor probably won't care even if he found out etc etc, it doesn't make me a pedophile if I write romance for him as long as it's fiction, etc. And I certainly do not think it's morally wrong to like him romantically, but I don't feel comfortable writing romantic fics for the character especially when I'm far away from my teenage years myself. I'm really sorry.

Also, I would appreciate basic manners/politeness (hi, please, thank you, etc) instead of sending me a request as if I'm ChatGPT.

Tagging Pugsley x reader because my experience is that anons rarely circle back to check whether their asks were answered and may only come back weeks/months later to ask if their request is still being worked on and miss the post where I have turned it down entirely, removing the tags in case the anon comes back!

[swanimagines]

Hi! I was hoping you could throw together something with Wednesday x gender neutral reader?

They're basically Slurp in the sense they have the same backstory, the crazed ambition and clockwork heart. I can totally see them being rivals because of their cold heartedness and stubbornness, but I’d love a scene where the readers heart was like a music box and after it was wound it played a song, Wednesdays favorite song and she overheard and ig everything goes from there :)

sorry I know that was a lot here’s a treat for reading all that 🍔🍔🍟🍦

Hi, unfortunately I have to turn this down since you broke my rules (which I'm once again urging you to read before requesting, there have been awfully lot of you guys who have broken them over this first week despite my repeated threat to chomp down your furniture if you break them. If my rules are hard to understand, please tell me and tell me how are they hard to understand, so I can try to improve them).

I do not want to do "double requests" meaning requests you send around to multiple writers. I know most of you send these to multiple writers to see "different perspectives" or want to see the idea written in different writing styles, but I don't really understand how am I able to breathe in something large and fresh into this others already didn't, especially when I try to stay in contains of requests and avoid going sideways? If others write it like I do (not taking big detours), you'll have 10 identical fics from different writers, just with different styles. And I just feel uncomfortable to be one of those 10, just one meaningless, disposable ant in a sea of linework, it makes me feel like a machine.

And generally the idea of writing something specific/detailed someone else already wrote just makes me incredibly uncomfortable because that makes me feel like I'm plagriasing, and I also have gotten accused of plagiarising back in the day because of double requests (that I didn't know had already been written) so I'm nowadays very firm about that boundary and won't do exceptions. Of course, I may make mistakes or publish the fic before finding out it was already written by someone else before I published it, but in this case... @djljpanda already filled your request here, the request is almost word to word same and it's obvious you're going around copypasting/spamming that to any writer you find:

So, I'll be keeping a very close eye on the tags from now on to check for other double requests, and will delete this request from my wips.

Tagging Wednesday x reader because my experience is that anons rarely circle back to check whether their asks were answered and may only come back weeks/months later to ask if their request is still being worked on and miss the post where I have turned it down entirely, removing the tags in case the anon comes back!