#Wednesday accepted it

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

Wednesday laid down on the sidewalk while Enid tripped over her and ate the concrete

I feel like I see a lot of “Enid fell first but Wednesday fell harder” stuff out there but I would like you to take a moment to consider the opposite.

Wednesday fell first. She started noticing the signs early on, but she couldn’t put her finger on what they were. Why did she listen to what Enid said all the time ? Why did she go out of her way to make Enid more comfortable in the space they shared ? Why did she feel so protective of her ? Then she realized “oh no, it’s because I’m in love with her”. Of course nothing really changed in her outward appearance towards Enid. Wednesday is too in control for that, but it was always there. The whole school already knows Enid is one of the only people Wednesday wouldn’t kill over a minor indiscretion, so it wouldn’t be weird that Wednesday started spending more and more time with her. It became a part of her self identity. “My name is Wednesday Addams. I like murder and mayhem, and I’m in love with Enid Sinclair.” There wouldnt be much to give it away, either. Sure, Wednesday would actually listen to her talk about drama instead of openly ignoring her, and exchanging small gifts would likely be more common, but Enid is someone who watched RomComs and reads fanfiction. She would notice the big signs of love, but the little ones that Wednesday would show would likely go right under her radar. She had no hope of Enid returning her interests, and she was much too busy investigating murders and stalkers and what have you to put much thought or time into a relationship anyways, but it was still there.

Enid however, was too distracted. By boys, by school drama, by everything. Hanging out with Wednesday became a part of her daily activities, but she didn’t give it much thought. She was used to people liking her, so when Wednesday started opening up (in her own, reclusive way, of course) she didn’t think much of it. Of course Wednesday liked her, EVERYONE liked her. But then something happened. I don’t know what it would be, maybe something small, maybe a grand gesture, but it flipped a switch. Suddenly EVERYTHING changed for her. She couldn’t go two seconds without thinking of Wednesday. She dropped everything to go on expeditions and stakeouts with her. She started doodling her name in the margins of her notebooks. She couldn’t even look at her without making a wistful “sigh”, her pupils all but forming cartoonish hearts for pupils. She LOVED Wednesday, and would have razed the world to express it to her.

Wednesday fell first. Enid fell harder.

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Wednesday fandom: *leaking all the down bad moments Wednesday has for Enid* Me:

Me: If Wenclair doesn't happen, me and a lot of people are going to be eating Netflix's ankles holy shit

[syls-chaos]

Wednesday Addams comes down for dinner with their braids cut off. Oh, Wednesday, how could you! Morticia cries. How could you come up with something so beautifuly horrifying? She ruffles their hair and offers to go shopping for new clothing if they don't like what's in their closet anymore. After all, with a ominous hairstyle like that, one simply must have the closet to match

Pugsley shyly brings a 'friend' home one evening. Thing catches them kissing on the stairs. Gomez sits Pugsley down and starts explaining how to court a man.

One of their grandchildren goes by different pronouns every time they visit. They call the child beautiful and give the child knives engraved with each version of the child's name

Wednesday expresses worry about someone they met, alone, struggling to make ends meet, who eventually admits that they were disowned for getting top surgery. There's an extra seat at the Thanksgiving table that year, and showers of compliments on how handsomely their new child has dressed

A grandchild admits that they don't know why they haven't fallen in love yet. That they don't feel normal. "That's alright," Morticia assures them. "Normal is an illusion. What's normal for the spider is a calamity for the fly."

The family goes to Pride, all of the mismatched, odd, terrifying limbs of it. Morticia helps Wednesday paint a rainbow on their cheek

Gomez joins a line of parents wearing white angel wings, his dripping in glorious black, standing between crowds of yelling protesters, a physical wall between the slurs and the hate and his children, his children, as old as the children are. Many protesters are challenged to duels. None of them dare respond.

Morticia sees someone wearing a t-shirt that says 'Free Mom hugs', watches everyone that walks up and clings to them as though it's their only chance at parental contact for months. She marches over and demands one, as much as she loathes t-shirts-- tacky, normal things, they are-- and every child, young or old, there that day gets a hug, an assurance that they are simply stunning, and an offer of newt wing pie and an evening reading Edgar Allen Poe to Cleopatra, should they ever be lonely or afraid.

Morticia reminisces with Wednesday about a girl she once dated, oh the glorious days, and Wednesday smiles slightly, knowing they never have to be afraid to bring someone home. The truth about what girls and boys and non-binary friends they've kissed hovers on the tip of their tongue They know, too, if they explain that none of it was romantic, that they've never wanted what their parents had, Morticia will listen. She might not understand, no, but will let her child be, to form whatever relationships seem best. After all, how can you raise an incredible child and then not trust their judgement?

[renecdote]

@nymika-arts said that Buck probably didn't even know he had lichtenberg figures because he was in a coma for days and then she chose violence by also saying 'eddie tracing patterns in his skin where the figures once were and buck never knowing that that's why' so then I had a heap of feelings and wrote this about it

It’s not the first time Buck has woken up like this: Eddie’s body a warm weight against his side, the room dim in a way his apartment never quite gets, Eddie’s fingers tracing idle patterns on his shoulder and down his chest, lines branching out over his heart.

“Morning,” Buck mumbles before he gets his eyes open, blinking away sleep so that his boyfriend (his best friend, his everything) comes into focus.

Eddie’s hand skims down over his stomach, then disappears. He’s smiling when he answers, “Good morning.”

Buck smiles back. “You okay?”

There’s a tiredness in Eddie’s face that wasn’t there when they went to sleep last night, a heaviness dragging down his shoulders, but even as Buck watches, something lighter creeps in to chase it away.

“I was just thinking about how lucky I am.”

“Oh yeah?”

Buck tugs him in by the shirt and Eddie comes easily, his arm bracing on the pillow as they kiss. The first time they did this, Buck tried to turn away—wait, I’ve got morning breath—but Eddie just rolled his eyes and said, I’ve waited five years to kiss you, do you really think I care about morning breath? It might have been the most romantic thing Eddie has ever said to him. Or perhaps just the most memorable for the way they both laughed through the first attempt at a kiss and ended up getting up to brush their teeth anyway.

“Mmhm,” Eddie hums against his lips. “Because you’re going to make me breakfast.”

Amusement bubbles with the happiness coursing through Buck’s veins. “That’s why you’re lucky?“

“Well,” pretending to think about it, “I got to wake up with you too, so.”

There’s a soft, gooey spot in Buck’s chest just for Eddie. It nudges right up against the spot for Christopher and the one for the little family the three of them make, all overlapping his heart.

“Yeah,” Buck breathes. “I’m pretty lucky too.”

When he holds Eddie close to kiss him again, his hand finds the spot where a bullet almost took his partner away and he swears, for a moment, that he can still taste the blood. Then Eddie’s hand slips under his shirt to touch warm skin and it’s just them, the early morning, and the life stretching out in front of them. Suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like luck at all.

[wheatcak3]

my fever induced dreams have reminded me of the fandom i used to be in before i joined this one 👀👀👀

[karaspal]

i appreciate kara’s compassion while dealing with the prisoner.

[eidolons-stuff]

Me, explaining to my parents why I've seen Wednesday 5 times: "i really intrigued by the plot"

the plot:

[somenerdfromwhatever]

I posted this on Instagram days ago as Netflix is now pushing out content for Wednesday Season 2 to get the hype train going, but I noticed I have a lot of new fans! So if you're curious as to why you are saw a video or post about me wishing to work on Wednesday (not to mention the 90 minute long video about the subject), here is more context! Basically, I want the industry to have more of our stories out there to the world for us neurodivergents to express ourselves, and I want to be a part of the show that resonates so I can learn from the best!

This was posted to Instagram first so what you will see is slides I made with text on them! Read everything!

A little post script too: I've seen a lot of people online recently saying that fans shouldn't work on their favorite piece of media because of how a fandom acts and they always point to Star Wars. I've been working on this goal of becoming involved in the Wednesday project for two years out of love for the series. Passionate fans can be just as professional, and we want to give back to the shows that inspired us. My goal is not to take over, as a bunch of people in the industry are saying that stigma is what drives us fans out, but to elevate what the creators have envisioned. With their cooperation, I want to help make it happen.

[bobbimorses]

all-out avengers #4

[midnightfreeway]

i am once again thinking about bad buddy and queer joy. more specifically, i am thinking about how pran's happiness is questioned on two separate occasions: first by wai in episode 7, and then again by toto in episode 8. in both scenes, we are explicitly reminded that the story the play is based on is not a happy one. pran knows this. we all know this.

we all know how these stories of star-crossed lovers go. we also know that not too long ago, virtually all queer love stories ended in tragedy.

pat and pran's story is not entirely happy either, but as we watch them laugh in pran's bedroom near the end of episode 12, we learn that in this story, queer joy prevails. pran's happiness in particular is so precious because he tends to keep his feelings and emotions to himself. together, they rewrite the ending of the story we think we know by heart. together, they persevere and beat the odds. together, they prove destiny wrong, in more ways than one.

[abubblingcandle]

For @ficwip word game wednesday - Nature

From Death Fruit (Jamie allergy fic)

“How do you fucking not realise you are allergic to something?” Roy frowned. Jamie shrugged, eyes blinking tiredly. “Thought it was just nature didn’t I,” he wheezed, “how was sexy baby Jamie supposed to know that fruits weren’t supposed to be tingly?” Roy blinked, brain unable to process the insanity of that statement. “It was only when I had a fruit skewer with kiwi on once at an academy barbeque and my throat went nah mate,” he continued to explain, head slumping against the car door as he began to lose the battle with sleep. “Mummy calls em death fruits now since then. None allowed anywhere near me.” That mentality was going to be adopted club wide now.

[britcision]

Happy WIP Wednesday friends! Not a huge deal for you today, but I figured I’d drop the Flashback and give you the last piece in the “Bruce Puts His Head In His Butt” for the night!

(Bruce is tranq’ed by Alfred minutes after the call ends and is put to bed. In my heart. He might actually walk himself up but we all know it’s Alfred’s glare that makes it happen)

Just a taste of chapter 14 of Dead and Loving It, you can find the fic on AO3 or from my pinned post which is the latest chapter, but links to the first and all subsequent chapters are in each post!

———————

A Good Excuse To Be A Bad Influence

Jason was actually on his way to bed on time for once in his life, the early end to patrol and lack of crime lord duties giving him a chance to get a full five hours sleep.

He should have known he wouldn’t get lucky two nights in a row; Constantine wasn’t around to distract Bruce anymore.

He’d contemplated not answering. Contemplated trying not to shoot Bruce in half an hour if the fucker showed up at his window.

The pit growled.

It was the worst thing he’d ever heard. The worst thing he’d ever felt. And he did feel it, vibrating in his very bones.

It sent shivers creeping up and down, muscles tensing as if to run away from something inside him.

He answered the call, hoping it wouldn’t show in his voice.

“What.” Flat, unfriendly. Not encouraging conversation.

“You didn’t come to the cave.” B’s voice was equally flat, but in his case it sounded like a condemnation. An accusation.

Jason gritted his teeth.

“I have shit to do in the morning. Make it quick,” he snapped, giving his bed a glare it definitely didn’t deserve.

His pillows had never done anything to hurt him.

There was a momentary pause before B audibly decided not to push it.

Good.

Jason was in a mood to bite.

“We have intel on the Infinite Realms. I’ve sent the report. You need to stay away from Danny Fenton, for your health,” B said, still cold, still clinical.

Like he didn’t care. Like what Jason wanted didn’t matter.

Jason’s grip tightened and the phone case cracked.

“Yeah, no. Fuck off.” He spat the words, adding “get new phone” to his list of chores for the morning.

He’d been doing so well with this one. Of course Bruce had to ruin it.

At least the old man didn’t seem surprised by his reaction.

“Jason. It… he. His abilities may affect your condition,” he said slowly, sounding tired. Old.

The pit snarled, sensing weakness, and Jason kinda wished he was still lost in its rage. Back when he was, it was easy just to hate those moments.

B showing signs of humanity fucking hurt.

“He is. He’s making it better,” he shot back, brooking no argument.

“We don’t know that, Jason. Please, just… just for a few days. Until we can talk to the League, understand what he’s doing to you.”

Was.

Was that Bruce begging?

It froze something small and soft in Jason’s chest, stuck him in place. And did nothing to stop the flood of icy rage from filling him up.

Filling his chest, crushing his lungs, making it hard to breathe. Because of course, anyone and everyone else’s judgement was worth more to the man than Jason’s.

Begging Jason to listen to him, when he would never, ever, fucking ever listen to Jason. When it didn’t fucking matter if Jason begged.

“And why the fuck would the League know better than a doctor from the Realms?” He finally snapped, ignoring the way his throat tightened.

There was a long silence.

“A doctor?” Bruce asked softly, his voice still so flat and emotionless that only his kids could have read the confusion. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Danny brought me to a doctor. I’m gonna be fine,” he ground out reluctantly, part of him resenting Bruce’s constant insistence on knowing everything.

But… well. If it got the guy off his fucking back.

There was a long silence, one that Jason was fully aware B was likely spending working this new information into his latest paranoid fantasy.

Jason seriously considered just hanging up and going to bed. He was about to do it when Bruce spoke again.

“Would this doctor be willing to speak to the League?” And there it was again, Batman voice, clinical and distant and always, always fucking suspicious.

Jason rolled his eyes harder. With emphasis. Willing to be interrogated by first the Justice League and then separately also goddamn Batman.

Actually, now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure B wouldn’t get anywhere with Frostbite. Frostbite took his work seriously and was, yeah, king of a full realm of yetis.

None of Bruce’s pointed silences, menacing looming, or vague growls would bug the guy who got Danny through Fucked Up Ghost Puberty.

(And would probably be helping Jason through his own Fucked Up Ghost Puberty… joy of joys.)

It might actually be fun to see him try. If just being here wouldn’t put Frostbite in danger, because hell fucking no that wasn’t happening. The guy may not be his king but Jason would still die first.

But of course, in all his paranoid bullshit about the Realms influencing Gotham, B had somehow conveniently missed what America was doing to the Realms.

Like Jason hadn’t even done the full write up.

“Not while the fucking League are required to hand him right to the US government for torture and experimentation. Which, by the way, did you read my report on the Anti Ecto Acts?” Jason asked sarcastically, doing his very worst fake concern.

And again he was met with silence. Fuck, maybe Bruce hadn’t read it. Jason had dropped it in the day before all this gala bullshit had started, and it had been a busy two days since.

Maybe B deadass hadn’t put the pieces together. Might as well hammer it home for him.

“You know, the one that says you, me, Cass, and Damian are all non-sentient because we’ve been exposed to the pits?” Jason added, eyes narrowing.

Which wasn’t technically true, since it was the resulting liminality and ability to process ectoplasm that made them count, but Bruce didn’t need to know that yet.

Finally he spoke again, voice gruff and clipped.

“I’m looking into it. But for now, Jason, please-” he said again, the cover of Batman beginning to slip.

But Jason was done. No fucking chance Bruce was giving him orders when he hadn’t even bothered asking for Jason’s opinion.

He wanted to spout off about dangers of the Infinite Realms after talking to some wet paper bag of a man who hawked his soul like it was a pokemon card. Hard pass.

And even after hearing that Jason knew what was going on a damn sight better than Bruce did, he still wanted to push him around?

Fuck that.

“Sorry B, legally non-sentient, guess I can’t be blamed for my actions,” he drawled, then turned his phone off and dropped into bed.

He had a lot of shit to do before picking Danny up in the morning.

——————-

Jason will be using “legally non-sentient” as an excuse long after the laws themselves are repealed, and just you fucking wait until Damian hears he can try it too 😏

Sorry Bruce, Damian can’t socialize today, he’s legally non-sentient and can’t be blamed if he bites someone

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778

[vaniloqu3nce]

When are we going to normalize Enid being just as obsessed with Wednesday? We all agree on the gomezification of Wednesday but Enid literally throws her all into everything she does emotionally. You can’t tell me she isn’t the type of person to get obsessed with her crush just lil 🤏

Wednesday wakes up one morning and Enid has 48 different backgrounds on her phone for each type of way she loves Wednesday when she wakes up. Don’t ask how she got all those pictures because some of them, Wednesday is sure nobody was there to see.

[monbons]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @thehoneyedhufflepuff. Congrats on all the writing progress, and your Simon and Baz sketches are gorgeous!

I never hit the narrative writing standard this year, so in our last few days of school, my students are writing fanfiction of their favorite book or story we read. Can I tell you this is the best decision I have ever made? In my favorite fic so far, Romeo runs away with Tybalt. That child clearly understood the assignment!

As for The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch, have a dash of present SnowBaz. Can't share too much because the first date really is an experience. While I always appreciate comments on the fic, this week in particular I will ALSO accept gratitude in the form of fanart. Please forward all art to @thewholelemon as well since her amazing beta work helped me turn one bullet point in the outline that simply read "so many dates" into chapters 7 through 9.

Anyway, on to the snip...

When Baz finally pauses his story, Simon studies all the food, including the three-tier dessert stand, and lets out a pleased giggle. “This is the most ridiculously British date I could possibly imagine! I feel like Prince Harry.” “Blasphemy. You’re far more attractive.” Baz fails to hide a smile.

Exactly six sentences. A feat I cannot accomplish on Sundays it seems…

Hellos and high-fives: @roomwithanopenfire, @raenestee, @cutestkilla, @bookish-bogwitch @hushed-chorus

@aristocratic-otter, @valeffelees, @drowninginships, @larkral, @beastmonstertitan

@best--dress, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @iamamythologicalcreature, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold

@supercutedinosaurs, @rimeswithpurple, @run-for-chamo-miles, @blackberrysummerblog, @skee3000

@emeryhall, @arthurkko, @fiend-for-culture, @ic3-que3n, @rbkzz

@comesitintheclover, @noblecorgi, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @shrekgogurt

[000marie198]

Some hugs wait for a lifetime to happen but are more precious than all the years gone by without them

......

@starrjoy

[boojangs]

TO DANCE WITH WOLVES, CHAPTER 30:

TWO FOR TRIPPING (INTO LOVE): CHAPTER 7