#(but since it wendesday)

[chudenko-art]

WIP with Arden (featuring in-game plushie, although I forgot it's name)

[wolfish-trickster]

Don't make me choose

Gojo x fem!reader

Part 2

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: it's been some time since you've started dating the infamous Satoru Gojo. But lately you feel more like the two of you are just cuddle/fuck buddies and not a real couple. You make him choose his priorities which is something the strongest doesn't like.

Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort

When Gojo Satoru first asked you out you couldn't be happier. The first time he caught your eye was when he zoomed past you together with Geto on one bike. You got so startled you fell to the ground and scratched your knee. You thought at first that they will just leave you there and probably laugh at you later at a pub, talking to their friends how they knocked over a clumsy girl in a park. What completely shocked you was Gojo running up to you with Geto pushing their bike behind him asking you if you were okay and if you need any help.

The rest is history.

Now, three years later, things have been going well. Mostly.

You had the ultimate boyfriend experience. Nice dates, wholesome anniversaries, moving in together, having fun. You did everything in your power to not get boring, for him to not get bored. You cooked, cleaned, asked him how his day was, acted silly with him even when you were exhausted after a long day.

So why? Why was he spending more and more of his free time away from you?

It started out small. The first time you started noticing was like a month ago. As soon as he came home he told you he's going to the pub with Geto and Nanami. You told him to have fun of course, not wanting to seem like that girlfriend that doesn't allow their boyfriends having fun without them. Then from one weekend it became every weekend. Both of you were busy during the week, the only time you had for yourself was during the night and weekend. It soon became just nights.

Even during the week it was "babe, i have a day off tomorrow i'm going to Geto's" or "sorry we have to move the date night to sometime else, Geto is sick and has no one to take care of him" and once even "babe, remember how you told me about this place you used to love as a child? I'm going there with Geto! What a coincidence, right?". The last one hurt the most. Honestly, the last one was also what made you start noticing these in the first place. Once you looked into the past and counted all the times Gojo chose to spend his free time with his best friend instead of you you nearly slapped yourself. It was too many times. How could've you been so blind?

All off days were for Geto. All special days were once again for Geto. Weekends, holidays, his and yours birthdays, all for Geto fucking Suguru.

You needed to have a talk with him.

If he comes back that is. Lately he started to have sleepovers with Geto. As if both of them were teenage girls. You did ask to join them but they always told you off to "not disturb their boy time".

Steps echo outside your apartment. The door unlocks. And in comes...

"Babe," comes the voice of your beloved white haired guy, "I'm home."

"I can hear that," came your answer. You prayed it didn't sound too agressive. Your stomach was full of nervous butterflies, making it even worse to come up with a decent way to start the talk.

While you were thinking he came from the entrance hall to the kitchen where you were sitting and kissed you on the crown of your head. "I wanted to ask, do we have plans next wendesday? Because Suguru said he'd-"

"Listen," you interrupted him before he could even finish, "can we talk?"

Gojo chuckled. "That's a very scary sentence."

"Why? Have something to hide?"

"Nope," he put his bag down and leaned his back against the wall, "I'm listening. What is it?"

You took a deep breath. Then another. "Don't you think you're spending a little too much time with Geto?"

His playful smile loosend into a neutral line. "Elaborate?"

"It's just... you've been with him so much lately and I miss being with you-"

"I'm with you all the damn time. Every single night we-"

"Can't you let me finish?!" you said a little louder than intended but enough is enough. "Is that all you see me as? A fuck-buddy to warm your bed?"

Gojo groaned in annoyance. "No, of course not. But you're literally overreacting over here!"

"Overreacting? How? By wanting my boyfriend to be home on his off days? To spend some time with me and have fun like before?"

"Have fun times with you? What am I your babysitter?"

"Are you Geto's? All the fun stuff we used to do you're doing with him!"

"No, no darling," he stood up straight and walked towards you, backing you into the corner, "all the stuff we used to do I did with him first. He's my best friend! I've known him half my life! You have to have at least a bit of empathy to understand that."

Even cornered by a giant of a guy like him you didn't feel fear. The butterflies in your stomach died. What remained was just pain in your chest predicting what was about to come.

"Do you even see me as your girlfriend anymore, Gojo?"

"Oh, so we are on last name terms again?" he asked sarcastically and walked away to pour himself a cup of water.

"Answer me."

You watched him drink. Slowly. You've never seen a man drink this slow.

"Of course I do," he put the glass down, "what kind of a bullshit question is that?"

"It's how I feel Gojo. You're never here with me!"

"I am here now aren't I?" he poked his chest with his forefinger. "I'm here every single day and night, twentyfour fucking seven ever since we moved in together! Well excuse me I want to have some quality time with my best friend from time to time!"

You didn't want this. The yelling, the arguing. But it has to be done.

Now as a finishing touch. "Who do you value more?"

"Excuse me?" was all he said, too surprised to not hear you yell in return, just calmly asking your question.

"Who is more important to you? Your best friend or your girlfriend?"

Gojo covered his face with his palms and threw his head back. "You can't be serious right now," he groaned. "Suguru is my best friend. You can't just make me choose!"

"So I'm below a best friend. I might as well be called your friend with benefits..." you say more to yourself than him.

"There you go hating yourself again," he shook his head. "I get it, you want to hear me say how much you mean to me, how you're the most important thing in the world and other stuff I've told you a million times already and yet you still slip into this state. I might as well record myself saying those things so you could listen to them everytime you're attention starved," he pinched the bridge of his nose.

He sighed. "You know what? I'm tired of this. I still care about you, but you have to understand Suguru is-"

"I know," you interrupt his rant. "I'm tired too."

Gojo sighs. "Okay. Good. I knew we could talk this out," he said and picked up his sleepover bag again. "I hate arguing with you."

He walked past you to the bathroom to dump his pyjamas into dirty laundry. "Let's go to bed, okay?" he shouted from there.

After a quick shower he walked out the bathroom with nothing but sweatpants on and a towel around his neck.

However you weren't there. Not in the bedroom, nor living room, nor anywhere else. Confused Gojo walked around the apartment, looking for any signs where you might be hiding. Maybe you want to jumpscare him again to light up the tension?

Fine, two can play this game. He tiptoed into the bedroom to your massive closet and yanked it open.

You weren't there. But neither were your things. He quickly checked under the bed to see your beloved backpack missing.

Panicked he started calling out for you, thinking this was just a prank.

It wasn't.

You made him choose and without even realizing it he did.

[fuck-i-like-too-much-stuff]

Soulmate AU Idea for the whole of We Are Gang

[This is because i quite literally cannot stop thinking about @thunder-point 's AU.]

Chain has been seeing colour since he entered third grade home room to introduce himself. So has Pun, along with twelve more of their classmates.

The first colorful thing Tan sees is red from the small drop of blood on his knuckles after he has punched the cheer captain of the opposing school.

Q doesn't realise that he has guessed the color of the sky accurately till he starts seeing his painting in dimensions like never before at P'Oh's cafe on a random Wendesday.

Peem has high hopes for colors, and they do not disappoint as he sees uniforms of red and blue run across the football field. After the match is over, Tan brings over his soulmate and his soulmates' friends, one of whom stops mid track upon setting eyes on Peem.

Matt has been friends with Toey, and by extension the huge gang of Toey's Hias. Now when Toey finds out that Hia Peem's boyfriend and Hia Tan's boyfriend are actually two of his Hias from school, there are four more boys to become friends with. One of them is into video games, he hears.

[ladykailitha]

Nanny au

WIP Wendesday. Just cleaning out the inbox. Join me next week!

Other asks here, here.

Snippet

Eddie’s face really lit up. “Ooh. He asked me what my favorite dish was and is making it for me. I’m really excited to see what a Michelin chef can do with poor people food.”

The girls both made faces and Steve gave them a look. “Remember when you went to Maria’s birthday party and the cake was carrot and you didn’t like it?”

Both girls nodded and Eddie looked suddenly interested in the new lesson they learned. “What’s this?” he asked gleefully.

“When it’s someone else’s day,” Joan said, “they can have whatever they want for their party.” She scuffed her shoe on the carpet. “So since it’s Daddy’s homecoming day, he can have whatever he wants.”

[gumnut-logic]

Raindrops

This was sparked by a prompt from the wonderful @womble1 :

Falling asleep on a balcony and getting woken up by rain.

It is rather random and fluffy with just a touch of hurt, with lots of comfort. Earth and Sky, big and not so big brothers.

Many thanks to the amazing @onereyofstarlight for reading through a one shot that should have taken a couple of hours, but since I didn't have a couple of hours, took three days instead, so was read through twice. You are so kind to me.

The first bit of this was posted in the last few days for WIP Wendesday, but there is plenty more after those little bits. Sky had a mind of his own and took over the fic.

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

“Virgil.”

Something tickled his nose.

“Virgil.”

Something wet landed on his cheek. Another followed it. And another.

“Virgil!”

“Wha-?”

“Virgil, there is a weather system tracking across the Island, you might want to go inside.” John’s voice was achingly patient.

Virgil, sprawled across a lounger on the residential balcony, blinked only to have water land in his eyes. A blurry hesitation and the decking beside him took up percussion as rain swept in with its full tropical intentions.

The weather changed faster than Virgil’s brain could boot from a dead sleep. So when he leapt up, his faculties were not at full function.

Fortunately, he was well practised at moving fast with zero thought.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t usually on a wet balcony in the rain, and a misplaced foot hampered by a moonboot was enough to send him reeling.

He was faced with the split-second realisation that he was going to fall and there was nothing he could do about it. Gravity took over and he was going down.

Except he wasn’t the fastest moving person in the house.

“Woah! I’ve got you!” Two familiar and strong arms wrapped around him, preventing yet another collision with something hard..

After all, that was how he ended up with the broken foot in the first place.

“I’ve got you.” The repetition was as reassuring as it was annoying. “Are you okay?’

Virgil looked up at his brother. The rain was really coming down now and Scott’s hair was beginning to drip into his eyes. Worried eyes, damnit.

“I’m f-“ The ‘ine’ was stolen by a sudden clap of thunder. What the hell?

Scott shook his head and lifting Virgil’s arm around his shoulder, hurried him into the safety of the residential villa.

Stepping out of the rain was a relief. Tropical rain was a species all of its own, heavy, sudden, and determined.

“Sorry, guys, I should have used an airhorn.” John’s voice bounced down from orbit with exasperation.

Virgil grunted at that, not entirely in disagreement, but not willing to give in, or to use the brain cells required for a comprehensible response.

“Or perhaps alerted us earlier.” Scott’s voice was disapproving.

Virgil sighed. Scott was still in post ‘brother trying to get himself killed’ alert mode. “It was a little rain.” He was pointedly ignoring the waterfall on the glass windows. “It wasn’t going to kill me. John’s busy. Let him have a life.”

“He’s right, Virgil. I should have woken you earlier. Or alerted Scott earlier.”

“What?” He really didn’t have the energy for an argument. “Whatever. I’m going to bed. Thanks for the save.” He pulled away gently from his big brother and stepped in the direction of his rooms.

Only to lose his balance again and nearly land on his face.

But, of course, big hero brother swooped in and caught him. “Take it easy.” Again with the arm around Scott’s shoulder and ignoring Virgil’s half-assed protest, his big brother began helping him towards his rooms.

“You know I can walk.”

Scott sighed. “I’m basing my decision on your last two attempts. You don’t get a third to try and break yourself further.”

Virgil grunted, annoyed at himself more than anything else.

They hobbled their way through Virgil’s door and into his living space. “Couch or bed?” Scott’s eyes bounced between the two options before latching onto Virgil himself.

“Bed.” He had been asleep because he was tired. “Want to finish what I started.”

“FAB.”

There was some more hobbling, this time through his bedroom door, and finally, his brother lowered him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Sit there for a second and I’ll go grab a towel.”

It was only then that Virgil realised his hair was dripping into his eyes and was much to blame for the blurriness of his vision.

“Here you go.” Scott emerged from the bathroom with a handful of towel. But instead of handing it to him, he made an attempt to wipe Virgil down himself.

Apparently, the laser beams shooting out of Virgil’s eyes must have missed their mark, or been completely obliterated by Scott dumping the towel on Virgil’s head and drying his hair.

Virgil waved his hands about, trying to swipe his big brother away, “You do know I’m a grown up.”

Scott wasn’t fazed. “Sure do.” The towel was rubbed through Virgil’s hair, haystacking it, down his neck, and wrapped around so Scott could wipe his face dry.

“Scott-!” The towel muffled the rest of his protest.

“What?” Scott had finished his face and started on his shoulders, but he frowned, tossed the towel aside and began unbuttoning Virgil’s wet linen shirt.

That was enough. Virgil caught his brother’s hands and held them still, glaring up at his older brother. “What are you doing?”

Blue honesty shone back at him. “You’re wet.”

“I am fully capable of looking after myself.”

“Of course you are.” A twist of his lips. “When you’re awake.”

“I am awake.”

“That is up for debate.” Scott sighed and sat down in the chair beside Virgil’s bed. “Fine. Be my guest.”

When did that chair get there? That chair wasn’t usually there, but on the other side of the room.

He sat there pondering the fact for the moment.

“Virgil?” A hand waved in front of his eyes.

Virgil whacked it.

“Ow.”

“You earned that.” Virgil undid the remaining buttons and shucked the linen shirt off his shoulders. Of course, every bruise bitched at him for it, but he was determined not to show any reaction.

He didn’t miss his big brother’s eyes landing on those bruises, though.

“Scott, it wasn’t your fault. Shit sometimes just happens.”

Quiet. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” But his eyes were still tracking over Virgil’s chest.

“If you don’t stop that, I’m putting the damned shirt back on.” Or grabbing another one. He pushed himself to his feet and carefully, and stubbornly, made his way over to his dresser. He shoved open a drawer and dug out an old t-shirt. He threw it on, not even bothering to towel himself dry.

He leant on the cabinet a moment, back to his brother, ever so aware of the eyes still tracking him. “Scott-“

“I want to help you.”

It was said calmly, but with just that hint of Commander combined with worried big brother desperate to make amends.

Virgil turned slowly. “Scott-“

His brother shot to his feet and stepped into Virgil’s personal space. A hand landed on Virgil’s arm, his other…hovered a moment before resting on his opposite shoulder. Blue eyes pinned Virgil where he stood. “I couldn’t prevent it. It was my responsibility to look after you, and I couldn’t. The least I can do is look after you now.”

Virgil’s heart hurt. “You look after us plenty, Scott. I’m going to be okay, I promise.”

His brother’s head dropped a moment, looking at his feet. “I know. Just…” He looked up with a crooked bit of a smile. “Let me help you.”

Virgil stared at him some more, worry gnawing at the edges of the fog that was his brain. “Okay.”

Those hands squeezed gently, before one let go and brushed the wet hair out of his eyes.

Scott stared at him a moment longer before pulling him into a hug. His brother didn’t say anything, but he did have his own set of muscles quite capable of squeezing tight.

I’m sorry. It wasn’t said, but it was communicated, nevertheless.

Virgil let out a breath and, wrapping his arms around Scott, rested his head against his big brother’s shoulder. There was nothing he could say to make it better. That was clear enough.

Scott needed to do this.

It wasn’t his fault. Perhaps intellectually he knew that. Emotionally was entirely a different matter.

Virgil had a thought and pulled away, just a little. “You wanna sit and watch the rain with me? I could grab that Scotch Gordy thinks he is hiding.”

Blue shone in the dim light. “Sounds good.” And there was the soft smile Virgil was seeking. “Gordon is going to be…upset.”

Virgil straightened. “He owes me well into the next decade, I’m calling it in.”

“He’ll make you suffer.”

Virgil carefully hobbled over to his bathroom and grabbed another towel to finish wiping himself down. “That is nothing new.” A sigh. “I’ll buy him some more on the next supply run. Top it up with a few of his favourites. He’ll be fine.” And to be honest, if Virgil divulged to Gordon why he was stealing it, he was sure his brother would eagerly donate to the cause.

After all, they all loved their big brother.

Virgil chucked the towel aside and held out a hand. “Help me back down to the balcony?”

Those blue eyes stared at his for a moment before taking his hand and gripping tight.

“Sure.”

-o-o-o-

[wenclairly]

I will probably just write this myself someday but

A fic where the Stalker is revealed to be Yoko. Much like Rowan, she has convinced herself that Wednesday is dangerous, and wants to keep her bestie Enid from getting hurt again. Unlike Rowan, she was radicalized by MorningSong, whose "therapy" app actually exaggerates fear and doubt to dangerous extremes.

letters, knives, and second chances | wenclair

wednesday addams x enid sinclair

description: wednesday and enid receive a note from wendesday's stalker, leading to revelations that they never could have expected.

tags/warnings: stalker, stalking, post-canon.

wc: 3.5k

a/n: thank you kbb306 for this amazing request, and our first one no less :) we apologize for a tiny delay! we've been trying to balance our own writing with this blog too. and we're very excited to share our first co-written req!! we do have another requested one shot in the works, and feel free to request more guys we LOVE when you do! enjoy this lil one ;) - jes & aly

The metallic clang of the cafeteria doors echoed behind Wednesday as she emerged, the lingering taste of lukewarm gruel a bitter reminder of Nevermore’s culinary shortcomings. The midday sun was casting its usual shadows across the cobblestone courtyard; yet something felt amiss. The distorted patches of darkness seemed to cause an unease in Wednesday, one that had long taken root since her return to school.

Two months had passed since the harrowing events that had nearly torn Nevermore apart, and the scars were still visible. The manicured lawns bore the scorch marks of battle, the stone gargoyles seemed to leer with a newfound malevolence, and the whispers of students now carried an undercurrent of fear that hadn’t been there before.

Wednesday tugged her blazer tighter around her, a futile attempt to ward off the growing chill. Even her usually vibrant roommate had subdued, her infectious laughter now punctuated by moments of quiet introspection. It was as if the darkness that had threatened to consume them all had left a permanent stain.

As Wednesday made her way back to the dorm, her mind drifted to Enid’s therapy session. The new therapist, a chipper woman with a penchant for pastel sweaters and motivational posters, had arrived in the wake of the chaos, a self-proclaimed expert in trauma recovery. Enid had embraced the sessions with her usual enthusiasm, but Wednesday remained skeptical. Could a few platitudes and breathing exercises truly mend the wounds inflicted by a centuries-old monster?

Lost in her thoughts, Wednesday rounded the corner. Only to be jolted back to reality by an unexpected sight. Their door, usually firmly shut, stood slightly ajar. A frown tugged at her lips as she approached, her pace quickening with each step. Had Enid forgotten to close it before leaving? Or had someone else ventured into their shared space, disturbing the delicate balance they had carefully constructed?

The air hung heavy with an unfamiliar scent, a subtle blend of cedarwood and something floral, decidedly not Enid’s usual werewolf musk. A chill slithered down Wednesday’s spine. With a soft push, the door creaked open.

The room appeared undisturbed at first glance. Enid’s collection of stuffed animals were still perched on her bed, their wide eyes watching Wednesday with an unnerving intensity. And her overflowing bookshelf of romance novels and werewolf folklore remained untouched. Even Wednesday’s typewriter sat calmly on her desk, a half-finished poem visible in its carriage.

But as her eyes adjusted, a discordant detail pierced the illusion of normalcy. A crisp white envelope laying on the inky blackness of her bedspread. It was intrusion, a violation of her personal space that set her teeth on edge.

With a measured step, Wednesday approached the bed. Her eyes fixed on the envelope as she reached out to brush her fingers against the smooth paper. It was unsealed, an invitation to delve into its contents.

She swiftly slid her finger beneath the flap and tore it open. A single sheet of paper, thick and heavy, fell into her hand. The handwriting was an attempt at elegance, but held an obvious note of sloppiness. Yet it wasn’t how the letters were penned that unnerved her, but the words themselves.

“Dearest Wednesday,” the letter began, “Your darkness casts a long shadow, a blight on the innocence of Nevermore. I see the danger you pose, the poison you spread with your twisted words and morbid obsessions. Enid, my dear sweet Enid, deserves better than to be ensnared by your darkness.”

A cold fury ignited in Wednesday’s chest. But she read on, each word twisting the knot in her stomach tighter.

“I will not allow you to corrupt her any more than you have, to drag her further down your abyss. You will leave Nevermore, or I will ensure that Enid pays the price. Consider this a warning, a taste of a different darkness that awaits you, should you refuse to heed my words.”

The letter ended abruptly, the final sentence hanging venomously in the air. Wednesday’s grip tightened on the paper, her knuckles turning white as she fought to contain her rage. This was not a prank, not a childish attempt at intimidation. This was a declaration of war, a threat against the person she held most dear.

* * *

When Enid returned from therapy, she entered the dorm to see Wednesday furiously typing away, the familiar sound of the typewriter clacking aggressively. Enid’s eyebrow raised, though she didn’t question Wednesday’s anger. It could range from something serious to a minor inconvenience that had ruined her day. As logical as Wednesday was, Enid had to admit that sometimes she was quite brash.

It wasn’t the aggressive typing that worried Enid. Instead, it was the way Wednesday stood up and pulled the paper from the typewriter, crumpling it and flattening it down onto her desk. Thing was waiting there and kicked it into the waiting wastebasket. After that, the clacking sounds stopped. Wednesday sat at her desk and huffed a loud sigh.

“Everything okay?” Enid asked hesitantly. She’d beelined for her bed, laying down with her laptop resting on her legs. She had an essay due within the next few days, and she was terrible at getting them done on time. She had considered asking for help, but Wednesday’s apparent bad mood was enough to prevent her from doing so.

“I’m fine.” Wednesday answered briskly, not even bothering to turn around to face Enid. Instead she stared at her typewriter as if trying to burn a hole into it.

Enid hummed thoughtfully, then slid her laptop off her legs and onto the bed beside her. “You don’t seem fine.” Enid pointed out, much to Wednesday’s chagrin. The girl’s shoulders tensed and she turned, her permanent glare boring into Enid. “Yikes. Okay.” Enid immediately turned her attention back to her laptop, turning so her back was facing Wednesday.

Things were quiet for a moment, before she heard another long sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m simply frustrated. It seems my ability to write has conveniently decided to disappear.” There was a slight tremor in Wednesday’s voice. It was definitely more than that.

“Writer’s block?” Enid suggested, her gaze moving back to Wednesday. The raven was resting a hand on her temple, her elbow propped up on the desk.

“Absolutely not. I have never once been afflicted with writer’s block and I certainly will not begin to be now.” Wednesday drummed her fingers on her desk.

Enid’s sensitive hearing picked up on the drumming. Her eyebrow rose in a skeptical expression. “Maybe something else is bothering you?”

Wednesday froze at the remark. Enid tilted her head. That was an indication of her being correct. It seemed clear enough to her that something else was going on inside of Wednesday’s head. Something that was bothering her. “What’s wrong?”

Enid watched as her roommate looked at her, then averted her gaze, then looked at her again. She was unsure, nervous, even. “I received another message from my stalker.”

Enid perked up, sitting up straight in her bed upon hearing the news. “Really? What was it?”

“A threat.” Wednesday said ominously, opening the drawer at the side of her desk and pulling a letter out of it. Enid got on her feet, swiftly crossing the line between their two halves and taking the letter from Wednesday once it was offered to her. Her eyes scanned the piece of paper, and with each line she felt more nauseated.

“‘My dear sweet Enid’?” Enid quoted the letter, frowning. “Whoever wrote this clearly has no idea who you are.” She felt anger of her own festering in her chest, building up. Who did this person think they were? Insulting Wednesday and their friendship. As if Enid was too weak to be friends with someone like Wednesday.

Enid was tired of being seen as weak.

“I have a relatively good idea of who it might be.” Wednesday’s burning glare returned back to the paper loaded in her typewriter. “Who else would refer to you that way? It must be Ajax.” There was a sort of bitterness in her voice. It wasn’t aggressive enough to be anger, but it wasn’t placid enough to be just a simple dislike. It was deeper than that. Enid wondered if she was overthinking it, but if she didn’t know any better, she’d think Wednesday was jealous.

“That’s true.” Enid’s eyebrows furrowed. “But he’s never called me ‘dear’ or ‘sweet’.”

“A failure of a partner, if you ask me.” Wednesday grumbled under her breath.

Enid blinked. “That’s a little harsh.”

“Not harsh enough. I should have nailed his heart to a wall before you two reached whatever you define it to be now.” Wednesday looked up at Enid, who was staring down at her with a confused expression.

Enid sighed softly. “It’s complicated.” She quickly muttered, not particularly in the mood to detail how the best word she could use to describe what she and Ajax had was “situationship”.

“That’s what they all say.” Wednesday bit back, turning her gaze back to the blank piece of paper in front of her.

“Okay, well-” Enid started to argue, then paused and took a deep breath. “That’s besides the point. What are we supposed to do about this stalker?”

A smile tugged at the corner of Wednesday’s lips. “I could always build another makeshift guillotine.”

“Wednesday, no.” Enid huffed. “Something that doesn’t involve killing my…” She hesitated, “...him.” She finished, unsure once again how to describe Ajax.

Wednesday scoffed. “You’d be better off without him.”

Enid waved her off. “That’s besides the point.” She rubbed her temple with two fingers, starting to get a headache from Wednesday’s one-sided hatred of Ajax. “Why don’t we just talk to him?”

“I suppose. But I’m bringing a knife with me.”

Enid already knew that Wednesday wasn’t going to budge on that point, so she didn’t bother trying to fight it. “Fine.” She said lowly. Wednesday was already standing up and moving to her bed, kneeling down and reaching underneath it. “Wait, you mean right now?”

“Yes, right now. We need to get to the bottom of this immediately. These letters are unacceptable.” Wednesday pulled a small box out from under her bed, opening it to reveal an intricate dagger.

“You don’t-” Enid rolled her eyes. “Okay. Fine.” She agreed begrudgingly once again. “Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

“Alright.” Wednesday stood up, hiding the dagger in her sleeve, and began walking towards the door, Enid in tow as usual. The two of them exited the dorm, bent on ending this “stalker” business right then and there.

The quad at Nevermore was a microcosm of the school’s social hierarchy. Flocks of sirens gossiped near the fountains, their scales shimmering in the afternoon light. A group of gorgons, their stony gazes fixed on chessboards, hurled under the shade of the outside trees. And nestled in the corner, at a small stony table, was Ajax Petropolus sitting beside Bianca Barclay.

Wednesday and Enid approached the pair. Enid’s usually bouncy gait was tempered by a hint of apprehension as she trailed behind Wednesday’s, whose stride remained as purposeful as ever. Her eyes were fixed on their target with the intensity of a predator stalking its prey.

Ajax, oblivious to their approach, was mid-sentence. Bianca, her eyes half-closed against the sun, seemed to be humoring him with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Petropolus,” Wednesday’s voice cut through the air like a knife.

Ajax’s head snapped up, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the sight of Wednesday and Enid standing before him. A nervous smile flickered across his face before it was quickly replaced by a look of feigned nonchalance.

“Yo, Wednesday, Enid,” he greeted them with a casual nod of his head. “What’s up?”

Wednesday’s lips curled in disgust. “Don’t,” she snapped, the word dripping with venom. “We have a matter of grave importance to discuss with you.”

Enid, sensing the rising tension, stepped forward in an attempt to be a calming counterpoint to Wednesday’s iciness. “Ajax, we need to talk about the letters,” she said, her eyes searching his face.

Ajax blinked, a puzzled frown creasing his brow. “Letters?” he echoed, his voice tinged with genuine confusion. “What letters?”

Bianca tilted her head, even her expression betrayed a hint of bewilderment. “You mean fan mail, Enid?” she quipped, a playful lilt to her voice. “Saving Nevermore isn’t taken lightly. You’ve got quite the following now I see.”

Enid’s patience, already stretched thin, snapped. “Not fan mail, Bianca,” she retorted, her voice rising an octave. “Threatening letters. From Wednesday’s stalker.”

The word hung in the air. Ajax’s expression shifted from confusion to concern, while Bianca’s demeanor was replaced by a mask of guarded curiosity.

“A stalker?” Ajax repeated, his voice barely a whisper. “But who would…?”

Wednesday cut him off with a chillingly calm voice, her eyes narrowing to slits. “You tell us, Petropolus,” she hissed, her words dripping with accusation. “You seem awfully confused, perhaps suspiciously so.”

Ajax recoiled under Wednesday’s piercing gaze. “Woah, Wednesday,” he stammered slightly, raising his hands in a gesture of defense. “I don’t know anything about any stalker. What even makes you think that?”

That’s when Bianca stepped in, her voice sharp and defensive. “Back off, Wednesday,” she snapped. “Ajax is the last person who would do something like this. He’s been nothing but kind and supportive to Enid—”

Wednesday was quick to interrupt with a scoff. “Kind and supportive?” she echoed, a venomous edge to her voice. “Or perhaps he’s simply following a well-trodden path of deception, lulling us into a false sense of security while harboring sinister intentions.”

Ajax flinched as if struck, his face paling under the intensity of her accusation. Bianca bristled, her lips forming a thin line of displeasure.

Enid, however, had reached her limit. She stepped forward, her voice a low growl. “Enough, Wednesday,” she hissed. “You’re being unfair now. Ajax… isn’t him.” 

A tense silence descended upon them. Wednesday was momentarily taken aback by the outburst, remaining silent as the implications seeped into her. It stung. But there was a creeping sense that perhaps Enid was right.

After a beat, Ajax finally spoke, his voice a hesitant plea. “Enid, I don’t get it,” he said, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What did the letter even say? What kind of threats are we talking about?”

Enid’s breath hitched, the words of the letter had been a sour taste on her tongue. “It said,” she began, lowering her voice, “something about Wednesday being a ‘danger’... a ‘blight on the innocence of Nevermore’. It says that I… I deserve better than to be ‘ensnared by her darkness’.” She paused for a moment, tracing her mind back to what else the letter had said. A knot formed in her stomach as she remembered the rest, the threat to her own safety. Enid couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “Such theatrics,” she muttered, a hint of disgust lacing her tone. ���One would think we were dealing with a Shakespearean villain, not some cowardly stalker hiding behind vague threats and flowery language.”

Bianca dismissively waved her hand. “Sounds like the kind of fear-mongering nonsense MorningSong’s ‘wellness app’ is always peddling,” she scoffed, the disdain evident. “All that talk of darkness and danger, it’s enough to make one paranoid.”

“MorningSong?” Wednesday echoed, deceptively calm. “Who here subscribes to that drivel?”

Ajax shifted uncomfortably on the bench, his eyes darting nervously towards Bianca. “Yoko,” he blurted out, the name a low mumble.

Enid’s eyes widened. “Yoko has that app?” Her voice was filled with incredulity.

“I told her not to get it.” Bianca hummed pensively, shaking her head. “But she said it was just a joke, that she wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I didn’t think she’d take it seriously.”

Wednesday’s expression darkened. “Well. I suppose we know who our stalker is. Good thing I brought a knife.”

“You brought a what?” Ajax blinked, watching closely as Wednesday gestured towards her sleeve. 

“It’s Wednesday. What were you expecting?” Bianca grumbled sarcastically. 

Enid waved them off. “Does it really matter? Let’s just go find Yoko and talk to her. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. She knows what we’ve been through. It’s gotta be that stupid app.”

“Good luck.” Bianca called as they walked away, settling back down next to Ajax, who looked as confused as always.

“When I find that vampire, I’m going to shove a stake through her heart.” Wednesday hissed under her breath. The two of them made their way to Yoko’s dorm, Wednesday fuming and Enid feeling more unsure with each step.

When they finally arrived, Enid went to knock on the door, but Wednesday simply shoved it open with no regard of who might be on the other side or what they might be doing.

“Tanaka.” Wednesday practically growled, entering the room like an ominous storm cloud.

Yoko was sitting at her desk, her laptop open in front of her. She jolted, her shoulders tensing. She whipped around in her chair, staring directly at both Wednesday and Enid, a nervous smile flickering over her face. “Uh… Hey, Enid. Wednesday.” She greeted, her voice shaking slightly.

“Care to explain your pathetic letters?” Wednesday stormed over to Yoko, slamming her hand onto the desk and leaning over the vampire.

“Wednesday-” Enid started. She was promptly cut off by Yoko, who stood up. Given Wednesday’s small stature, Yoko stood a few inches taller than her, looking down at her with a glare. “I’ll explain it alright. Enid wouldn’t have been hurt by the Hyde if it wasn’t for you. She wouldn’t have come crying to my dorm if it wasn’t for you. All you do is hurt her, Wednesday. You’re dangerous and reckless.”

Wednesday was clearly ready to fight, but Enid crossed the room and put space between the two of them, holding her arm out in front of Wednesday. “Yoko, where is this all coming from? You were there the night we fought the Hyde. You were there the night she saved the school. You know what happened.”

Yoko hesitated, shoving her hands into her pockets. “This app I downloaded. It was telling me that something dark and foreboding was coming. I kept getting stuff like that, and the only thing I could think of… given she was the reason everything happened in the first place…”

“That app spews nonsense in exchange for popularity. You are a fool for taking anything it tells you to heart.” Wednesday snapped, barely able to hold back her anger. “You should have known better.”

Yoko seemed unsure of herself now, her shoulders slumping. “I… I just wanted what was best for Enid.”

Enid sighed softly. There wasn’t any anger in her expression, and her tone was gentle. “You don’t get to decide that for me, Yoko. I know you care, but Wednesday and I care about each other. And we’ve worked out our issues.” She looked back at Wednesday, whose demeanor had softened. “She would fight for me in a heartbeat. Even if she refuses to admit it.”

Wednesday grumbled something under her breath. Enid didn’t hear it, though she was sure that it was yet another empty threat.

“Come on, Yoko. You know better than this.” Enid chided quietly. “Delete the app, and all is forgiven.”

“Who says all is forgiven?” Wednesday asked, straightening her posture. Until Enid glared at her and she relented. “Fine.”

Yoko took her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through it and deleting MorningSong from it. “It’s gone.” She flipped her phone around, showing both Wednesday and Enid that it was completely gone. “I only got it as a joke, I wasn’t expecting it to be so effective.”

“It’s all about psychology. If you had any sense of logic, you would realize that.” Wednesday relaxed now that the threat was gone, her tone less abrasive.

“Now that that’s over with…” Enid started, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “I think you two should have some bonding time! It’ll be great. My two besties, getting along!”

“Absolutely not-” Wednesday tried to object, but was immediately cut off by Enid.

“We should go get coffee at the Weathervane to celebrate! And Yoko, you should definitely bring Divina. We’ll become a gang, the four of us!” She raised her hands to her chest, balling them into fists. Excitement was radiating off of her. Excitement so genuine, that not even Wednesday could deny her wishes. “Alright, stop your incessant jabbering.” Wednesday turned to exit the dorm, glancing back at Yoko. “Meet us in the quad in fifteen minutes sharp, Tanaka.” She put an emphasis on the word “sharp”, wanting to be completely clear.

Yoko, who was stunned by the quick forgiveness, could only stand and nod as the two girls exited her dorm, Enid talking Wednesday’s ear off and Wednesday only able to listen grumpily as they walked side by side, shoulder to shoulder.

[weissaddams]

Wenclair Fic Idea No. 3

Trauma Surgeon Wednesday and Pediatric Surgeon Enid

--

Okay hear me out. They met at the hospital when Wednesday was brought in by Weems as a trauma surgeon. 

Nevermore Medical was a top tier trauma and innovation facility. Anyone hired was well-respected if not the most respected in their field. Weems was the chief-of-surgery.

Enid was a pediatric surgeon. Yoko was a cardio surgeon. Bianca was a neuro surgeon. Divina and Eugene were general surgery. Ajax was the orthopedic surgeon and Tyler was the plastics guy.

Wednesday locked horns with all of them at some point because she prioritized saving the patient’s life (a direct result of military training and all the tours in war zones where she barely had any equipment to open someone up, let alone sew them back together) over almost anything else.

Yoko and Bianca always fought for the option that presented the patient with better quality of life. Ajax would fight to save a dying limb as opposed to Wednesday’s plan to cut it off entirely to avoid infection. Divina and Eugene also argued for organs they could save had Wednesday not been in such a hurry to do this and that.

She locked horns with everyone but Enid who she always worked together with because the blonde was adamant that children were precious and should be shielded from this horrible world as long as possible.

Wednesday thought that was stupid at first, but observing the blonde work herself to the bone to save child after child had her growing soft in no time. 

Enid once saw Wendesday eat her meal at one of the lesser crowded hallways and has since then decided to join her there when she can. To befriend her.

Fast forward to them flirting with each other without knowing they were. Everyone else thought it was so fucking obvious. They should get a freakin room already.

They spent their free time together. Wednesday was kinda mean but still professional with everyone but Enid after a few months. They’d worked well together in the operating room, saving kids side by side.

Some days, the nurses would find Wednesday going on late night rounds with Enid. Telling the kids stories to help them sleep or playing card games with them to pass the time.

A rude patient once grabbed Enid’s arm too hard and Wednesday was on her side in a second, subduing the patient in a heartbeat by grabbing his arm and yanking it off Enid, eyes cold and sharp.

“Get your hands off her.”

The whole ER went quiet except for the rude patient who tried to retaliate but was wailing in pain due to Wednesday’s tightening grip. Bianca was pretty sure the trauma surgeon would be shooting lasers out of her eyes if she could.

Security eventually comes and drags the man away.

Wednesday is still visibly fuming after that so Enid pulls her into a private room to calm her down and thank her for. Wednesday only started to relax when Enid assured her that she would have done about the same as Wednesday had she not beaten her to it first.

--

18 months later, a bus gets totaled outside the hospital because of a slippery road caused by a snow storm, people are injured and Wednesday was one of the people on duty who immediately ran to the bus that was now upside down.

They were pulling everyone out and Enid had just gotten down from a surgery only to find out Wednesday was still in the bus. The burning bus that was about to blow at any second.

She ran outside, getting drenched in the snow, only to make it a few meters outside before Yoko holds her back and the bus explodes.

Enid screams for Wednesday at the top of her lungs. No! She had to save her! She had to get to Wednesday but Divina and Yoko kept holding her back.

Then, someone comes out from behind the bus, carrying an injured child.

Wednesday fucking Addams. Drenched, bruises here and there but fine.

Eugene ran out to her to take the child and the next thing Wednesday feels is the wind being forcibly taken from her lungs as Enid engulfs her in a tight but warm embrace.

“Enid.”

“Wednesday.”

Then Wednesday returns the hug with one arm tightly around Enid’s waist as she gently pats the blonde’s head.

Enid hugs her tighter and everyone gives them some peace before going back inside to tend to the wounded.

It’s a few minutes before Wednesday is content with how much Enid had calmed down. She draws back from the still tight hug to look at the blonde. She wipes away a few tears and brushes her hair away from her eyes.

“Did something happen?"

Enid wanted to laugh at Wednesday's audacity to ask that question.

“I was so scared when they said you were still in the bus.”

“I apologize. I did not think anyone would be so worried.”

“Don’t say that. Of course I’d worry! I’m always worried! Stop running into burning buses and jumping into sinkholes! I need you to come back to me alive!”

Wednesday is not sure of the gravity of Enid’s words. She’s pretty sure not even Enid realizes what her words could mean but she nods anyway.

“I will always come back to you, Enid.”

Enid nuzzles into the crook of Wednesday’s neck.

“You fucking better, Addams.”

--

Hi! I’m having a lot of fun with these fic ideas. They're really just excuses to write dialogue and setups without all the needed embellishments.

Let me know if you have ideas for them, too! I’d love to hear them.

--

Quick sidenote, if any of this sounds familiar, it’s because I’ve watched Grey’s anatomy a lot haha so a lot of medical stuff and even the bus scene is drawn from there. Watch it! Just look up on youtube the Jackson and April bus scene.

[eminsunnytoons123]

The muppets Show: Life in the boarding home

Happy trans visibility Day!!! 🏳️‍⚧️ 💝

As a little gift for my sweeties @iggyguyy And @ben5569 And since theyre both transgender, i wanted to draw this for the trans visibility Day since it was yesterday =^///^=

In this drawing.. Lips, baskerville And scooter are the ones i headcanoned as transgender. Lips is holding a transgender flag And trans colored nails, baskerville jumping in the Air with an trans flag colored heart on his cheek, And scooter raising his fist in the Air while having a trans flag bandage on his sleeve, And even blue And Pink confetti are around them. =^_^=

I hope y'all will like this! Especially @iggyguyy and @ben5569 And any other trans tumblrs here, i hope this brings y'all Joy And happiness =^///^=

And since its gonna be @muppet-fan-real 's Birthday this wendesday, i'll make a Birthday drawing for her =•v•=

[astramachina]

out of context line ! !

drive-by tagged by @fortunatetragedy and it's wendesday and i'm about be outta town for a couple of days so let's freaking go.

this one's from Poppy's "about" page on her dedication website where a third of The Singularity Project will be hosted.

I thought the biggest reveal after his death would be that I was adopted (which I am and I’ve known this since I was at least 10), but apparently I was stupidly wrong.

family secrets? i'm sure it's all well and good.

no-pressure tagging @wrencatte, @kairahara, @emperorharuhi, @justa-rat, @opaleyedprince and you who gazes upon this post.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary397

10/23/24

wendesday

tomorrow, we go to a pumpkin patch with friends.

and believe it or not, i've just done a bit of writing. transcribing from the notes app but that's always like, rather involved because i go, what was i trying to get at, then i reverse engineer it, something better comes out usually. so i need to do that, i've got about 44 notes to go through, which is probably gonna be about 30 extra pages. whew! terrible maybe. but then i get to just start assembling more, i get to move past this middle in the hump as everything before is essentially laid out. a new list to get through... this makes it really manageable honestly, having the number down and now i'll just run run run thru it. it feels good to have this now. i guess i'm like dumb in some way for feeling like a list is going to make writing something easier but i suppose that's how these things might go. it's long as it is so anything to make it less abstract. being less abstract... wow! it can happen and if it can happen that means it could end up out there in the world.

i also ought to work with the tiny thing, what i really need to do is go into the section i wrote forever ago and change the tense, which will also be additional editing when i come across awkward syntax. but whatever... i need to bite the bullet. just doesn't feel like a lot of time for this.

between these two things, i also really need to force myself to sit down and read. i'm just so tired lately, i keep waking up too early for no reason. or. some reason, it's just bright when my gf turns lights on, and a little loud when she moves around. i don't blame her, it just sucks broadly. but whatever. i'm super tired now so i feel like i will sleep better at least.

i didn't start the drawing of daan, i doubt tomorrow will be the day but you never know, i did a little thing with music today also, but nothing for a main project, just having fun writing weird things. odd chords that move weird, it's almost incoherent, but i like it. maybe i can make it make more sense when i get to it another time. maybe the not really making sense is actually a positive. who knows.

oh, the other day, i used the word daub incorrectly, i feel idiotic for that. less so now that i admit the failure. i feel good about that.

errands were very fast today, since my gf's mom is clearly not supposed to be so mobile right now.

i snapped a little, for starving, i was very hungry today, i can be irritable, but i think it was just kind of funny how it happened, my gf made some offhanded joke, i was like, i'm hungry, fuck you, but she didn't care at all, i think because she's similar to that she just understood. it's not good to be that way but i guess everybody is like that sometimes, because they are hungry and had to do a bunch of things. it's interesting how being hungry can make you be something you normally are not. i feel bad that i can be like that at all, honestly, it makes me worry i'm really evil, and a bad presence in anybody's life, and i don't know how to tell if i am or am not. when i ask, everyone says, what do you mean you think you're evil, my gf says it makes her think of happy tree friends when i say things like that. like some kind of cartoon squirrel that's too cute or something to really do anything. which is reassuring to put in words here. it's not about how i look, it's that i guess, there's some line that i can't cross, because my line for being awful is being grouchy when i'm hungry or overstimulated. it really didn't mean anything to her, or her mother, or they were a little shocked since normally i don't ever talk back... i don't know, i feel bad, and it didn't mean anything to either of them, so ultimately, it doesn't matter. but i want to be a better person, or, not mean to people.

i should try and think of concrete ways to do that... maybe i talk about it too much.

i ought to sleep soon, but my friend who has traveled to brazil and will be there for many more months is messaging me, his journey is incredible, one of the coolest things i've seen, to make the effort to go be out there, with a girl i think he is together with, you know, like, i suppose to make solid the relationship in that way, to be with her for 6 months basically, that's really moving to me. making sure to make it strong i guess. and to go so far out of his comfort zone, he's a very cool person. it is nice to think about, from what he's been through, and how he hasn't let it get him to give up you know.

here's an all timer:

oooh woo ooh ooh ooh oohwooo

perfect song. nothing else to say really except it always blows me away, such a slinky and mysterious thing, a puddle on a grey day without any rain, staring at it, waiting, sad nothing comes, climbing a fence and running around a playground at a school, walking back home.

i will sleep now,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[agggtmpodcast]

PIPRAVI IS HERE.

i am SCREAMING. considering i am horrendously sick with a throat infection, this says something.

we have our pipravi. welcome to my rant.

ill start off with emma myers. I never watched wendesday when it was trending, but the things i have heard about her acting and her personality off screen make it hard for me to doubt anything. all her hair needs to do is grow out, and i will be crying on the floor every single episode.

zain iqbal. since he's a newcomer, there's nothing really about him so i don't have much to say except that i have no doubt he will bring my bae ravi to life <3

THANK YOU HOLLY i love you holly you are my life force

[breadedsinner]

WIP Wendesday

Tagged by @ammoniteflesh, thank you!

*

Cadash sighed, feeling the fatigue hovering over the campfire, as surely as the bloated clouds above. Everyone hunched in their seats, heads knocking, rubbing eyes. The towers of Caer Bronach could be seen in the moonlight, peaking from behind the hills. There was a long way yet to go.

“Lady Hawke,” Cadash said with a shrug. “I’ve been drilling you a lot since you came to Ferelden, about mages, and red lyrium, demons. Why don’t you tell me about something you’d actually like to talk about?”

Hawke lifted her weary head, brow raised, back straight. “Is there something you had in mind, Lady Cadash?”

Cadash’s lip curled, her black eyes flickered like onyx against the fire. “Tell me something that Varric’s book got wrong.”

“Oh, this should be interesting,” said Cassandra, her gaze never leaving Varric.

“Hey,” said an indignant Varric. “Tales of the Champion is perfectly approximately accurate.”

“You certainly captured the exciting parts, Varric,” said Hawke, smiling. “Though perhaps a few things in between were lost.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one, you essentially skipped my time with the Red Iron.”

“What’s there to say? You worked under some boorish mercenary for a year.”

Hawke’s mouth tightened. “How easily you sum up the longest year of my life, Varric. You know, I had actually met Sebastian during that time.”

Varric shook his head, and it spread through his body, like he had to reset to absorb the new information. “What? You met him when you collected the bounty, that was after we had met.”

Hawke sighed. “I am certain I told you this. My life does not begin and end with you.”

“I didn’t…”

“Why don’t you start with that, Hawke?” asked Cadash, beaming.

[careful-pyromancer]

Various castien snippets

I need to make more blorbo content of him. Give me situations to put him in. (Is going to put them in vampire situations)

“You’re going with me to this ball. You owe me.” Lucia never asked.

“Fuck no I don’t, since when?” Castien protested.

“Since Cait gave me the favor you owe her.” 

“Oh for fuck’s sake. What do you want me to do?” 

“You’re going to cozy up to the Unseelie King.” 

“Hell no, I’m not. I’ll hunt down some Blind Priests or cannibals for you instead.” 

“No. You’re coming with me. I need your charm to neutralize my bitchiness. There are special guests here.” 

“What kind of guests?”

“The Shrine Maiden kind.” 

“Okay, fine I’m coming. But I’m bringing Wednesday to neutralize our awkwardness. Are the girls coming as well?”

“Of course they are.

Two more and taglist down here!

Dragons were majestic creatures, best known for destroying hapless settlements using all kinds of elemental powers. Even the occasional Faerie Court had been overtaken by these majestic winged lizards. Castien respected this tendency to destroy. Nature often did the same thing. The earth would tremble like a leaf in a windstorm. Dry season fires. A horde of pixies could destroy every organic life in sight if they were hungry enough. Destruction wasn't unnatrual, he supposed.

Castien nestled into the warm being next to him. He felt Wednesday’s airy touch trace the patterns on his face. As soon as Castien tried to move into a less vulnerable position, he was only moved closer to the man holding him. 

“You’re not escaping from me,” Wednesday stated. 

“So I’m stuck with you?” 

“Yep!”

“For how long?” 

“For a thousand years!” 

“Only that long?” Castien frowned pitifully.

Wednesday observed his boyfriend with a child-like sense of wonder. Well, he always felt that sense of wonder every time he even thought about Castien. 

Wednesday could never fathom how such a beautiful soul (inside and out) could be so self-conscious. What Castien saw as a clumsy mix of patches, he could see the intricate union of divine and flesh. The mixture of earthy tones made Castien a living testament to Nature Goddess’s existence (in Wendesday’s opinion). 

“Quit staring.” Castien protested, the lighter parts of his face turning bright red. 

“Now you look like a sunset.” Wednesday teased. 

“What kind of sunsets have you been looking at?” 

“I prefer looking at you to the sky.” He stated simply

TAGLIST ASK TO BE REMOVED/ADDED: @writing-is-a-martial-art@asher-orion-writes@memento-morri-writes@fictionalbullshitter @verba-writing @writingpotato07 @fearofahumanplanet @nivahiem@lucysnotebook @wip-nook @writeblrsupport @365runesofpassion @theimperiumchronicles @kjscottwrites @thepunk-nessmonster

and a gentle bap for @albatris who I think might like this :3

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Hello, everyone. I know I haven't posted for a while. I will try to post a little bit today, but I think I need to briefly discuss something that has been talked and argued over.

(Before you read this post, please be careful. It will discuss a little bit about religions, religious trauma, and other related topics. Please do not read if these things trigger you. Whatever you need to do to stay healthy and mentally well, do so. With this, you have been warned).

With so much arguing, fighting, and prejudice against the many different religions of the world, it can overwhelm a person. So many people, despite what their religion, their God/gods teach, prophets advised, and basic human goodwill toward men and women and others dictates, practice hate. It has happened since before A.D., and has lasted for as long as humanity has existed.

I don't think that is right.

Now, please, keep in mind I am no religious expert. All I can speak about is my own experiences, and explain from my point of view. I am not judging anyone for what they believe in. I think that would be wrong of anyone to do.

When I was younger, I went to a school that had a church and people who claimed to believe in God and to be Christian. (And before I continue, do not hate on Christians. Don't hate on Muslims, don't hate on Jews, don't hate on atheists, or those who believe in multiple gods, or those who believe in Buddha, OR ANY OTHER BELIEF. People are to be judged not by religion, or race, or gender, or opinion). These people, in short, were hypocrites. I was bullied, for essentially being different. I was a little slow in some aspects then. But these people didn't always act the way a Christian, or any kind person, should. I eventually left, and entered homeschooling, but not before having a sh*t ton of religious trauma, which would later hurt me in more ways than one.

But then... I went to Wendesday night supper with my new teacher, who would later become my adopted grandma. And I'd continue going, over the years, and I realized over the years this was the healthiest church environment I had ever known. They were kind, welcoming, warm... They would love a person, even if they weren't a Christian, or weren't straight, or had a disability. And this is what I wish more people would practice, in all religions and mindsets and beliefs. That you should love a person, care for them, even if they aren't like you.

I am unorthodox. I am not part of any denomination of Christianity (there are several) or any other religion, and have a few beliefs that I don't think are commonly found/explored/thought over. I think God, whomever they are, is beyond human comprehension. I also believe they are kind, love the human race, and will always avenge the innocent, one way or another. I also believe that perhaps the different religions do share the same God, if not in different ways. Who is to say God did not take on different aspects of themself, or appear to the different people of the world in a way they would understand? I believe God is a perfect being, that God is pure Good and pure Love. We, as humans, are not perfect. But we try, and we try to be good, to do the right thing. And I believe God knows that.

I could be wrong. I know that. I have a disorder that uses my religious trauma to hurt me, and I know that might influence some of my beliefs. But I truly believe that God would want their creations to get along, to love one another and support each other and try to help each other, despite race, gender, opinions, preferences, or any other factors.

(And on a lighter, less heavy note, the platonic yans would love you no matter what you believed. They would support you, and love you no matter what. And if anyone tried to hurt you, they would protect you and keep you safe)

[ladykailitha]

More Himbo Witch, please!

WIP Wendesday. Just cleaning out the inbox. Join me next week!

Other asks here.

Snippet

“So guess who I saw coming out of the Munsons’ house on the way home?” she said, putting away the groceries she had into town for.

Steve paused his clearing of the lunch mess and straightened up. “No...really?”

Robin pursed her lips and nodded. “Apparently Chrissy Cunningham is branching out since her dramatic break up with Jason Carver.”

Steve finished the dishes with a sigh. “It’s no surprise that his confrontation with Eddie and Bav was public knowledge by breakfast the next day, but even I think visiting another man so soon after your ex went insane and tried to break into someone’s house is little reckless, honestly.”

[gumnut-logic]

Dear Mr Tracy... (Part 7)

Sweetapple | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 - Bit 1, Bit 2, Bit 3 | Part 5 - Bit 1, Bit 2 | Part 6 | Part 7

@flyboytracy​​​​​​​​, @amistrio​​​​​​​​ and @onereyofstarlight​​​​​​​​​  you asked for it, so you get to suffer more :D

So sorry for the delay on this. Apart from the obstacle that was Christmas and all the work before and after it, this fic needed thought. At 2am this morning, the scene coalesced in my head, so here we have it :D

Many many thanks to @onereyofstarlight​, @gaviiadastra​ and @katblu42​ for putting up with my whining this morning. Unfortunately, brain threw a minor migraine first thing, that while it didn’t throw me to the ground, it messed with my head (is still messing with my head, damn thing). But fortunately before I was forced to go back to bed, this got written and my friends got whined at.

Anyway, soooo much emotion in this, probably why it was so hard to write. The first bit might sound a little familiar as I think I posted a bit for a WIP Wendesday at one point, can’t remember.

I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

Scott hated arguing with Virgil.

Hated it with a passion. Not the disagreements about tactics in the field or how many kitchen sinks he should take with them on vacation. That was part and parcel of who they were.

This, however…if Gordon thought Scott was blind to the worry that was consuming Virgil, his fish brother was the blind one.

Ever since they rescued Dad, Virgil had been hovering. At first it seemed his brother couldn’t let Dad out of his sight, as if the man would disappear like a dream.

And yes, Scott had a bit of that himself. Dad had been so sick, for a while there it was possible they had only brought him home to die.

But Dad, being Dad, had survived and taken the first of many steps towards recovery.

It was a long journey and Scott was very aware that his father still had a way to go, but his medical brother was clinging to symptoms and placing restrictions on Dad’s movements that seemed far more for his own insecurities than any health issue.

Scott had consulted with his grandmother and her answer had been to give Virgil time.

So he gave Virgil time.

And Dad chewed on his bit wanting to be let loose.

Scott supported Virgil. Scott believed in Virgil.

Scott watched as the man wore himself down.

He had tried talking to him, but Virgil would list symptoms and arguments would break out. If it was Scott’s fault that he was far too much like his father, so be it, because somewhere amongst those arguments, Scott had stopped listening to his brother.

It wasn’t a realisation, it was an acknowledgement. He had made a decision and acted.

Leaving Virgil behind.

And it felt awful.

But Dad needed his freedom. After being stuck on that rock in space for so long…Scott couldn’t think of a worse imprisonment…and he couldn’t help but empathise with his father.

So it placed him in direct conflict with his medical brother.

It felt wrong.

It was wrong.

He wasn’t sure how it had gotten so bad. Why he had let it go so long.

But Gordon snarling at him wasn’t going to fix anything.

Virgil’s empty seat glared at him.

Scott should have gone after Virgil. But he hadn’t. Because he knew that if he had, it would all have just dissolved into another argument.

God, he hated arguing with Virgil.

“Scott? Are you listening?” Gordon’s glare was fit to scorch him.

“Is there anything worth listening to?” It was sharp and uncalled for, but it generated the response he needed it to.

Gordon shut up.

“Scott!” Dad was frowning at him.

Actually, everyone was staring at him.

Excellent.

Perfect.

He threw down his napkin and stood up. “I’m going for a walk.” He didn’t bother to acknowledge whatever it was that Gordon growled in his direction. Instead, he strode from the room and out through the restaurant, ignoring the questioning glances of both Tia and Kayo.

The sea air was refreshing as it hit his face and for just a second, he gave himself a moment to settle his emotions.

A seagull squawked off to his left.

A hand landed gently on his right shoulder.

He turned, ready to shake off whoever was messing with him, but the hand gripped a little tighter and Kayo held a finger up to her lips.

Scott frowned, but obeyed, a reflex from in the field he could not resist, and as she gestured across the road, his eyes found why she needed his silence.

On a bench, facing the ocean, Alexander Sweetapple had Scott’s brother in his arms.

Hugging him.

-o-o-o-

 “You need to step back and look after yourself.”

There. He had said it. For good or bad.

Virgil stared at him a moment before looking away again, first up at the ocean, but then down at the grass. His elbows returned to his knees and Alex was shut out from seeing his face as those strong hands combed through and gripped dark hair. The mere sight of him was anguish itself.

Alex had to turn away, yet again caught between his need to respond to the grief before him and the fact that it probably wasn’t his place.

But there was no one else doing anything!

“I can’t do this.” It was quiet and muffled. “I just can’t…” There was a tremor in the last syllable that had Alex turning to the man in alarm.

“Can’t do what?”

The face that looked up at him was red, strained, almost broken. “Lose them.”

Alex swallowed. “Your Dad is getting better.”

The sound Virgil made could only be a pained scoff. “I’ve nearly lost Scott so many times. I thought that finding Dad would help. But it has only made it worse.” A harshly drawn in breath as he once again stared out at the ocean. “If we lose Dad, we’ll lose Scott as well, and I can’t…”

The hopelessness in the man’s voice had Alex responding without thought. He wrapped a long arm around those big shoulders and drew the man close. He needed a hug.

God, he needed a hug.

He nudged that bowed head to his shoulder and just held the man. The tension in his body was fit to bust something, but he seemed to relax just a little as Alex stroked a thumb across a bicep.

“It’s going to be okay.” Alex had no clue at the truth of those words, but regardless, he felt Virgil needed to hear them.

Muscles flexed under his arm as if to resist the words, but Virgil did not pull away.

Nor did he say anything.

So Alex just sat and held him.

-o-o-o-

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