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lum13 · 2 years ago

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Not so secret

You didn’t mean it for your relationship to be a secret— people just couldn’t put the two and two together.

Wednesday Addams x fem! Reader

“Oh my god, Yoko, you missed out on so much stuff today in first period.” Enid squeaked, stepping into the vampire’s full view. “I literally couldn’t believe my own eyes. Or- ears, both. My followers will freak out when they hear about this.”

“Enid, your heart is going to burst if you don’t calm down— I can literally feel your heart beating unbelievably fast. What happened?” Yoko stopped in her tracks, looking into the blond’s eyes expectantly. The girl took a second to compose herself from the overwhelming excitement, breathing in, and out, before spilling her words.

“Okay, you know how nevermore don’t usually accept new students mid-term, right? But this new girl barges into the classroom ten minutes late into the class.”

Yoko raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms. “Okay? A new girl mid-term. It’s not the first time it happened.”

Enid grinned, practically vibrating with excitement as she bounced on her foot.

“But that’s not all— the new girl sat next to Wednesday— the Wednesday Addams..” Yoko nodded, “And during the whole class, the new girl kept calling Wednesday names like love and darling—“ the vampire winced, letting out a worrisome groan.

“So when are we having the funeral?”

“Oh no— the best part is, Wednesday freaking Addams flirted back!”

“—and I hope we can get along!” Enid watched as you finished your small speech, excitement seeping through her features. She always liked meeting new people— it has always been a part of her personality.

“Thank you, you may take a seat wherever you like.” The teacher smiled at you, before leading you to the seats with a gentle nudge on your back. You quickly scanned the room— before your eyes fixated on a certain raven haired girl.

You beamed at her, dropping your bag on the desk beside her seat— drawing everyone’s attention.

Uh oh.

Enid gulped, eyeing every movement you made. Watching the two felt like watching a ticking bomb— ready to explode any second. She just hoped she didn’t have to call 911 like last time.

“What’s your name, pretty girl?” You asked— sending the dark haired girl a playful smile. Panic ran through the class like wildfire as they watched her glaring death at you— Enid whimpered, bringing her hand over her eyes, bracing herself for the chaos that was about to happen.

A beat of silence continued, before the blond heard her sigh,

“Wednesday.” The girl responded, rolling her eyes as she did so. Enid gasped audibly— slapping her hand onto her gaping mouth, unable to hide her shock.

“I love your name.” You giggled, “Wednesday is my favorite day of the week, actually. You might just become my favorite person.”

Enid felt the whole class holding their breath at the pair’s interaction, the tension soaring through the roof.

Wednesday seemed unfazed, though. Flipping through her textbook, she kept her calm demeanor.

“Your name is— tolerable, too.” She mumbled under her breath, alarming everyone in the room.

Only three words struck the classes’ mind:

What the fuck.

Enid knew Wednesday. Even though she was a bit unpredictable sometimes— she knew well enough to know that Wednesday was not a person to give out compliments to a stranger. Not in a million years did she think it was possible.

That’s why she was in front of your dorm, knocking on the door as she waited patiently for you to answer.

She heard some muffled shuffles before the door was opened, revealing you— Enid blinked in confusion— with your shirt slightly pulled to your shoulders, cheeks flushing as you leaned onto the wall beside you. You were also panting, she noted.

“Um— how can I help you?” You laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. Enid, however, decided to brush it off. You were probably sleeping, she reasoned.

“Sorry to barge in, but I just had to talk to you after what happened today.” Enid grinned, “You should totally confess to Wednesday.”

A pause. You burst out laughing.

“Oh my, but we just met today, didn’t we?” You chuckled, tucking a strand of your hair back. “Very straightforward, I see.”

“No, no— I’m serious. Wednesday that I know doesn’t let anyone compliment her. They usually end up in a hospital most of the time— only the nurse’s office when lucky. And did we forget about her compliment?? She’s totally in love with you, now kiss.”

You giggled at the seriousness in her voice, clutching your stomach as you did so.

“I must confess to this Wednesday girl then, hm?” You said between your laughter, making the blond nod her head eagerly.

“Totally, one hundred percent. It’s about time she gets a lover, plus, we can finally go on a double date!” She gushed, pulling her phone out from her pocket, before tapping on the calendar app. “Okay, confess to her, and I’ll make the schedule. Just make sure you do it before Sunday.”

You hummed, amused by the whole situation. You watched as the blond scrolled through the lists of schedules, probably looking for some empty times.

“Well, um, Ajax is probably waiting for me, so I’m gonna go now. Good luck!” Enid chirped, before dashing off. For a moment you stood there, watching her disappear into the dark void of the hallways.

“You can come out now.” You said, turning around to see your lover sliding out of your bed, brushing the dust off of her clothes.

“I am not going on a double date with Enid.” Wednesday growled, her eyes following you as you approached her now standing figure with a huge grin on your face.

“Wasn’t even planning on it.” You smiled, “I still can't believe you said that you liked my name in class, though. Who knew you were such a softie?”

“I am not, a softie.” She gritted out, sending you into a fit of laughter. “I just found it rather amusing to see how my words affected them.”

“Yeah yeah, sure. Not like you love me or anything, c’mere.” You opened your arms for a soft embrace. Your lover rolled her eyes before stepping in.

“Totally not like you love me.” You repeated, “yup— totally.”

You were gifted a punch in your stomach for that.

-extra scrapped scenes

“Love, that’s not how you treat a nosebleed.” Enid’s mouth fell agape as she watched you pinch the tip of the raven haired girl’s nose, bringing your other hand behind her head— tilting her forward as you smiled softly at her. In fact, the whole class stared at the pair’s interaction with fear.

“..thanks.” Wednesday replied, wiping her bloody nose when the crimson liquid had stopped. Your hand let go of her head, humming in reply as you turned your attention back to your textbook.

Sorry this was so rushed— it’s 3:30 right now and I can’t think straight.

This was not what I wanted it to turn out. Kinda disappointed in myself for this </3

#Wednesday Addams x reader #wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x you #jenna ortega x reader

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deanwritings · 1 year ago

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The Guest House - Prologue

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 2,225

A/N: Welcome to the start of The Guest House! This little bitty came to me while I was staying at a lake house and relaxing, so really excited to dive in.

Chapters will be posted weekly on Wednesdays.

If you would like to be tagged in the series, just leave a comment or shoot me a message and I'll get you added.

Enjoy!

You dig your nails into your fingertips as they sit in your lap underneath the table. Your heart was finally leveling off as your review was coming to an end. So far your marks had been glowing; your metrics were up, your peer reviews were stellar, all that was left was to hear if they would be promoting you.

You’ve been working for that next step for a year and a half now. After most of your team quit, you took the opportunity to show your bosses that you could run the department with a can-do attitude and hard work. You’ve brought up a promotion a few times at your check-ins with your boss, and she assured you it would be a topic of conversation at your next review, which would be ending in the next few minutes.

With a polite smile, you look across the table at your direct manager and her boss.

“Any questions?” Your boss asks plainly, and your brow furrows as you look between them. If you didn’t know any better, it sounded like they were wrapping up the meeting.

Your lips fall apart and your heart jumps into your throat as you realize what’s about to happen.

“Uh,” you start as you squeeze your fists together. “I was hoping to discuss my possible promotion.” You loosen your smile as you try to keep your eye contact divided between both of them.

The two share a small look.

You’re not getting promoted. Is what that looks says.

Your boss’ boss clears his throat as he readjusts in his seat.

“After reviewing your performance, we do not feel a promotion is appropriate at this time.” He says with a tinge of forced sorrow.

Your stomach plummets as your jaw clenches.

How could they not be promoting you? You’ve been working the job of at least three people for over a year now without complaint. You’ve spent countless days staying late and making sure projects didn’t fall wayside while the company took their sweet ass time looking for replacements for your team.To their own admission, your metrics were good, so why the hell wasn’t your hard work being recognized?

“I don’t understand.” You swallow to keep your voice from shaking. You never pushed back on your bosses. Ever. But you thought today was the day you were finally going to be rewarded for everything you’ve done for them.

“You just said that my metrics were up and I was performing above expectations. What is hindering him from getting a promotion then?”

The two look at each other again and you can feel yourself beginning to shake as they bide their time for an excuse.

“Y/N, you have performed well this past year for the most part, but there were concerns with your performance in January.” Your boss folds her tanned hands on the faux wood tabletop as she speaks up. “You let things fall through the cracks and were distant from your work. We feel that is not reflective of someone who should hold a Senior Management position.” She offers a soft smile and a shitty excuse.

It takes your brain a moment to catch up with what they were talking about; January. Two months ago. Your aunt passed away suddenly from a heart attack as she was making dinner. You can still hear your mother’s cries over the phone as she called to tell you the news that her sister was dead. And at only 52.

You were only able to take one day off from work for her funeral, as you were in the middle of a project launch and it was all hands on deck. When you returned, yeah, you were “distant.” You were mourning the loss of a woman you loved dearly while trying to help your mother and cousins navigate their grief as well. Your aunt’s passing also made you scared for your own mother, who is a few years older, and some night’s you couldn’t sleep as you thought about life without your best friend. It took you weeks to shake free from the heartbreak and anxiety that had engulfed you, but you came back strong and started excelling once more.

And there your bosses sat, in the all-glass meeting room of the shared workspace your company rented out because they were too cheap to get a full-blown office, throwing your aunt’s death in your face and using it as the excuse as to why they would not be promoting you after more than eighteen months of slaving away for them with barely a thank you.

You laugh through your nose and shake your head as you swallow hard.

“We’re happy to talk more about this in a few months at your next check-in.” Your boss jumps in, and you bite down on your lip. “We know you’re committed to this company and role, and we want to make sure we help you get to the next level.” She smiles at you like she actually believes the bullshit she’s spouting.

You take a deep breath and genuinely smile back. You always prided yourself on keeping a cool head, especially at work. But a line had crossed, and even for you, enough was now enough.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Your boss ticks her head at your words. “Because I quit.” You stand up and smile down at the two asshats you gave everything for, and now realize, you would never get anything in return from them.

Both of their mouths fall open as they share a shocked look between them.

“Y/N, let’s not do anything rash.” Your boss’ boss stands as well, holding his hands up. “There’s no need to jump to something like this. I’m sure there’s something we can work out”

You push your chair in, your smile not wavering.

“I feel that this review is not reflective of a company I want to work for anymore.” You throw their words back to them. “I’ll have no issue finding a new role that values my hard work and dedication, and won’t use a family member’s death as a reason to squirrel out of a rightful promotion.”

“Best of luck filling my role.” You turn on your heel and hurry down the hallway to your shared office. A few coworkers glance up at your haste entrance, but you ignore them as you grab your purse and start grabbing the few personal effects that would fit on your tiny, shared desktop; just a single, unframed picture of you, your parents, and your brother, a few fidget toys, and your favorite pens. The rest belonged to the company, just like you had.

Without a word, you fling your purse onto your shoulder and with your head held high, carry yourself out of the office without a single glance back. As you step onto the elevator, you smirk as you watch through the all-glass walls as your bosses shout at one another before the doors close.

“You what?” Your mother gasps through the phone at your news. You knew your parents weren’t going to take this well, and you were prepared for it.

“I quit.” You repeat, even though you know she heard you the first time.

“Y/N, what on God’s green earth would make you quit without another job lined up?” She huffs.

You think about your Aunt Rose, how your bosses used your grief as an excuse not to give you a well-earned promotion. She was always free spirited, having career-jumped her whole life. She started as a bartender, then worked as a sous chef for a catering company before she decided she wanted to be a radio DJ. Years before she died, she had gotten her real estate license and was working as an agent right up until she passed. You had always been the opposite, very much a mirror of your mother. You went to a good college and got a business degree. You had worked for a few companies over the years, but you always stayed in the same field, working your way up the ladder. You never wanted to take a risk with your career, you had worked too hard. But working hard got you nothing but late nights and a bullshit yearly review.

To say you were exhausted was an understatement. And you can barely recall the last time you got together with your friends, let alone a date. You had married your job and it had been a toxic and loveless relationship.

It was time to start fresh and take some time for yourself. Which is exactly why you had seventeen tabs of house rentals open on your laptop screen as you half-listen to your mother as she continues to admonish your rash decision.

“It’s going to be good for me, mom.” You cut her off once you’ve finally had enough of her harping. You loved the woman to death, but my god once you wind her up, she doesn’t stop.

“I have enough savings to comfortably get me through six months without a job. I’m going to take a few weeks off to reset, then I’ll hit the ground running with the job search.” You cross your legs as you languidly swipe through rental photos.

After a few more minutes, you finally hang up the phone and start seriously considering your options.

You wanted to get away upstate, not so far away that you couldn’t get back for anything important, but far enough to feel like the city wasn’t in your rearview mirror. You figured a month would be the perfect time. Four weeks of a quiet town to relax and rediscover your love of reading and writing. It’s been ages since you actually sat down and read a good book. You were never good at art, but maybe you’d even find a studio to do some painting or finally give pottery a try. For the first time in your life, your time would be your own to sleep in and do whatever you wanted with your days.

As you click through listings, you notice one that is significantly cheaper than the rest. Curiously, you click the link and a gray-sided cabin with a red tin-looking roof brightens up in front of you.

NEW LISTING! Private Guest House, Hot tub included.

One bedroom guest house available for rent. Relax in the peacefulness of upstate while being a short driving distance to town. The guest house has a full bathroom, complete with tub. There is also a hot tub on the patio that is for guest enjoyment. 10 minutes from downtown with plenty of bars and shops to keep you busy. The owner lives on the main property, but will keep to themself unless you need anything. Perfect for anyone looking to getaway!

As you click through the photos, you’re greeted with a warm, wooden interior, a wood burning stove, a fairly updated kitchen, and a queen bed with an adjacent master bath.

The cabin feels a little too good to be true for the price, and you click “Contact Owner” at the bottom of the page.

“Hello,” You start your chat. “I’m interested in potentially renting your guest cabin for four weeks. The place looks lovely but I wanted to ask if there are any issues I should be aware of since the price is so much more reasonable than other listings on this site.”

You were hoping there were no gimmicks, you’ve heard horror stories before, and with no reviews, you wanted to do your due diligence.

After you send the chat, you step away to make a quick dinner, chicken and ramen, comfy and warm, before you settle back onto the couch to watch your favorite reality show. You’re about to press play when you notice a response in your inbox.

“Hi there. Totally understand your concern. I just put the listing up today and am offering a discounted rate for the first few renters to help get traffic to our rental and start getting reviews. Let me know if you have any questions.” You shrug at the perfectly reasonable response and you click on the circular picture of the brunette next to the message, opening the owner’s profile.

LISA BRAEDEN (Host)

0 Reviews | 1 Month Renting

Lisa’s confirmed information

Identity ✓

Email address ✓

Phone number✓

Proud wife and owner of a unique property. I am a certified yoga instructor and have been teaching and practicing for over 15 years. I love a good glass of wine, a well-cooked meal, and traveling to new places.

You stare at the picture of the smiling, long-haired, tanned brunette. She’s absolutely beautiful. Probably a few years older than you and seems down to earth in a regular tshirt.

Honestly, considering you were out of a job, the discounted price would really come in handy. Then you wouldn’t feel so guilty taking a full month off before you started your job hunt.

You click back to the rental’s profile and put in your dates. You take a deep breath before clicking RESERVE and putting in your payment details. Your rental has been confirmed. The message pops up. With a thousand-watt smile, you shut your laptop and settle into your couch. In just a few days, you would be on your way to a new beginning.

Keep Reading

A/N: Fun fact, the first half of this was inspired by true events. Sadly, I didn't quit on the spot, but I did shortly after with a 10x better job.

And know we didn't get to see Dean yet, but I promise he will be in the next chapter!

Anywho, stealing this from the lovely @zepskies

NEXT TIME:

“I’m calling the cops!” She shouts, her phone in hand, music blaring from the speaker as her fingers are ready to press the three numbers as she stares at him with fear in her Y/C/E eyes.

“Take it easy,” Dean holds his hands up, and the woman looks like she’s going to have a heart attack as she notices the gun in his right hand. Realizing his mistake, he quickly tucks it away into his waistband and holds his empty hands out to her, wanting her to know he’s not a threat.

“First off,” Dean holds up a finger at her. “If anyone should be calling the cops, it’s me.” He points back to himself. “Secondly, what are you doing in my house?”

“Your house?” Her voice drips with confusion as her brow furrows.

“Yes my house.” He echoes, emphasizing his ownership. She continues to frown.

“Well if it’s your house, you would know I’m renting your guest house for the next four weeks.” She crosses her arms defiantly, confusion and fear gone as she challenges him.

“What are you talking about?” Now it’s Dean’s turn to be confused. He’s never rented the guest house out, nor would he ever.

Tag List

Forever

@iprobablyshipit91 @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly @roseblue373 @k-slla @stephv213

TGH

@suckitands33 @deans-baby-momma @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @spnbaby-67 @jackles010378 @itsdesiree86 @becca-rebel38

#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean imagine #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester fic #the guest house

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 years ago

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Can I have wednesday x reader when it's wednesday's birthday?

—

Figuring out what Wednesday wouldn’t hate for her birthday required a lot of thinking. Anything involving technology was an absolute no and all the books you had thought of, she either already had or were impossible to find copies of.

You almost got her a necklace with a black dahlia pendant in a small shop in Jericho, but Bianca mentioned the unspoken best friend vs girlfriend birthday present competition. Unfortunately for you, Enid was a fantastic gift-giver, which added some pressure on your shoulders. Although Wednesday would’ve liked the necklace, you put it back. You could do better, you needed to do better.

Three days before the birthday surprise, you woke up in the middle of the night with a flash idea. You got your laptop and found exactly what you wanted. You had to order it with express shipping, but the extra dollars would be worth the look on Wednesday’s face when she’ll open it.

There was no way Enid could do better than you. Nothing would rival your gift.

On October 12th, everybody gathered at Crackstone’s crypt for midnight. Tyler had been in charge of the cake — 98% dark chocolate ganache with a grim reaper on top —, Thing the making the magazine cut-out message to slide under Wednesday’s door, and Enid the guests.

You and Enid had difficulty containing your excitement as you waited for the birthday girl to arrive. Wednesday had no idea this surprise was happening. She didn’t even know you knew her birthday date. If it hadn’t been from Thing, her birthday would’ve been skipped over.

When you heard footsteps crunching leaves outside of the crypt, you all hid and waited for Wednesday’s grand entrance to scream ‘surprise!’. You all came out from being the statue of Joseph Crackstone, singing ‘happy birthday’ while Enid held the cake. Everyone was off-key and sounded terrible, but it’s the thought that counts.

Wednesday stood there, visibly uncomfortable. Her eyes shifted in the small room, looking for the culprit who slipped her birthday date to everyone. ‘’I should have known you were behind this,’’ she said to Thing, who was sitting on a column. ‘’What part of no party under the penalty of death do you not understand?’’

‘’Don’t be hard on him. Thing only told us your birthday date, the rest is all me and Enid...and Tyler.’’

‘’I made and delivered the cake,’’ he explained, nodding at it.

‘’Make a wish, Wednesday,’’ Enid urged, grinning behind the cake.

She didn’t make a wish, but she did blow her sparklers. She likely did just so the party would be over with, but unfortunately for Wednesday there was more than cake and a bad song.

Enid pushed the cake to Tyler and grabbed a neatly wrapped package from the side of the crypt. ‘’It's presents time! I’ll go first.’’ She handed it to her roommate and watched excitedly as Wednesday unwrapped it. ‘’Do you like it?’’

Wednesday held the black whooled object and examined it with the most confusion. ‘’What is is exactly?’’

‘’It’s a snood, silly,’’ Enid explained as Wednesday unfolded the snood with a new perspective. ’’I made it in your signature colors. And you want to know what the best part is…’’ She reached into a brown paper bag and pulled out a pink blob. ‘’I have one too!’’ Enid wrapped the pink snood around her neck, showing Wednesday how it’s worn. ‘’We can wear them together to class tomorrow.’’

Enid’s snood was thoughtful and sweet — even more so with Enid’s matching one —, but you knew the look on your girlfriend’s face. She hated it.

‘’Oh, Enid. This is far too unique to wear to something like class. I suggest we wait for a more special occasion,’’ Wednesday said, holding back from telling her true thoughts to not hurt Enid’s feelings. ‘’Like a funeral.’’

Enid scrunched her nose, funerals having a totally different meaning to her. ‘’Oh.’’

A few snickers were heard from behind you, so you stepped in and covered them by giving Wednesday your present. ‘’While we’re still accepting presents.’’ You handed her the wrapped box with a large black bow on top, making everyone wonder what was inside. ‘’You’re very difficult to shop for, my little viper,’’ you said to her.

Wednesday ignored the comment and unwrapped the box under everyone’s curious eye. The others wouldn't get it, but you knew Wednesday would understand the emotional meaning the second she would see the box's content.

She unfolded the black tissue paper and an unusual plush animal was revealed to her eyes. Wednesday took it out of the box and confusion spread on all of your friends’ faces.

‘’A scorpion?’’ Bianca said questioningly, her tone full of judgment. She knew Wednesday liked strange things, but a scorpion plushie was a weird ass present.

To Wendesday’s eyes, the plushie was so much more than a medium-sized scorpion. It represented a part of her past. She never got emotional, but the scorpion in her hands filled her little black heart with emotions she was not used to feeling.

‘’Nero,’’ Wednesday mumbled, her deep brown eyes fixated on the plushie. She was baffled, absolutely speechless.

‘’I know he can’t be replaced, but it can be a physical reminder of him.’’

Her eyes filled with water and Wednesday had to fight her strange desire to hug you, not comfortable doing so in front of so many people watching her like a caged animal in a zoo.

She cleared her throat and told Tyler to cut the cake.

After the whole cake was gone and the clock ticked 1am, you decided to call it a night. Principal Weems liked to take a stroll during the night and you doubted Wednesday's birthday would be a valid excuse in her eyes to be out past bedtimes.

The sky was starry above your heads as you walked back to the academy. It was pretty through the tall trees.

Beside you, Wednesday was holding a bag with Enid's gift in one hand and her other hand was holding the scorpion against her chest. ‘’This is the best present I’ve ever gotten. Thank you.’’ She smiled ever so softly.

‘’Oh? I got the impression you had a preference for Enid’s.’’

Horror formed on your girlfriend's face, getting horrible flashes of the content of her bag. ‘’That thing is horrendous. Never mention it again. If you see it on a bench somewhere, never bring it back to me.’’

You held a giggle and nodded. Noted.

‘’Where did you find it?’’ Her finger gently caressed the top of the scorpion’s head.

‘’This terrifying place you call the internet,’’ you said, mocking her refusal to use any form of technology. ‘’I thought of you the second I saw it. I know you don’t want to talk about Nero and I respect that, but he is worth being remembered.’’

Wednesday didn’t know how to respond, so she did what she didn’t allow herself to earlier and pulled you in a tight hug. It was a form of physical contact she used on rare occasions and with very few people.

Her arm that wasn't holding the plushie wrapped around you, pulling you closer. You responded to her gesture, not letting go until she did.

—

Wednesday taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n @poppet05 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @rhaenyraswife @teaganthemorningstar @aphex2winn @moompie @ifevilwhyhot @oliviah-25 @spenglerslime @wetwilliam02 @yellowcupcakes @haileyismoo @theyslayallday @wrldofsage @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @toylewestinnyc @meme-queen-1999 @rottenstyx @mxxny-lupin @idli-dosa @silenzju @ar40s @sweeterheartxamerica @renaissancewhxre @jordierama @lilppsblog @harrystylesfp @katsuki420 @ravenssh1t @izzy-laufeyson @iluvwomenblog @kenzi-woycehoski @arunaposeidondottie @liidiaaag @lilaconner @katsukis1wife @momoewn @amithesimpoffandoms @chaotic-fangirl-blog @hawkegfs @lyxrix @mommyruuetrue @acornacreacure @lucassinclairsgf @youdontneedtoknowthisinformation

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday #wednesday netflix

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drkmgs · 2 years ago

Text

It had my heartbroken.

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Warning: mild Angst

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

"They weren't mine but when I lost them it had my heart broken."

Wednesday wrote that as her ending sentence in her old chapter. She carefully took out the paper and added to her neatly packed pages. She sighed. The room felt bigger than before, she could definitely feel your absence. She never thought she would be fond of your shenanigans or you in flesh.

She hate to admit but she misses you. awfully. She misses how you would annoy her while she's writing, your cringe phrases that could lead her to murder, your infuriating laugh and your dreadful back hugs whenever you see her in the halls. She misses you so much that she started to hallucinate, she would see you in every classroom, hallways, at the Weathervane, and even in her room, but she knew it was just an image of you in her mind, she didn't make an effort to talk to you. Though sometimes you would talk to her like you usually do.

Now is the perfect example. You were on her bed, on the phone, scrolling through social media, humming in satisfaction. Then you remembered you weren't alone.

Y/N: Oh, sorry I was humming. I didn't realize it.

Wednesday: T-there's nothing to apologize for. You can continue humming if you want too.

Her voice cracked, it broke her heart. She needed that comfort from you but she knew you were merely an image in her head. She tried to shake the image away in her mind but it only makes it worse.

You were now standing in front of her. Looking down at her, whilst she is sitting on her stool. You gently crease her cheeks, she leans into your touch. Feeling the warmth of your hand against her very own cold skin.

When will she realize you're not just a hallucination, that you're real, that you were on the edge of death but cheated in some way? When will she realize, how much love and affection she showed, whilst thinking you were dead.

You had to play along with this idea. Preventing her to do something else. You were glad to see her doing just fine, but when loneliness strikes her, you couldn't just watch from afar. You soothe her by appearing every time she needed you. You would play your memories with her, to remind her about the happiness that she has given you.

She wrapped her arms around your waist to feel more warmth of you. Inhaling your scent, wood sage, and sea salt. Your scent is therapeutic to her, it did calm her down. You had your hands on her head slightly pressing it against your body and gently stroking her hair.

It was time for you to go before anyone else's sees you. You gently guided her to her bed and made her lay on it. She's holding your hand, not wanting you to leave. You whispered little things to her, it was soothing her to sleep. Soon enough she slipped into slumberland and you kissed her on the forehead to say goodbye.

You slowly pulled your hand away and made your way to the door. When you opened it, you were greeted by a tall woman with silver blond hair.

Principal Weems: I have been looking for you. How is she?

You took one last glance behind you and closed the door. You cleared your throat to compose yourself.

Y/N: She's doing fine while I'm beside her, but she's completely lost when she's all alone, she'll slip into something worse. Moth- I mean Principal Weems, let me tell her the truth. I can't keep roaming around the school like a ghost.

Principal Weems: We have talked about this, Y/N. How would you even tell her you aren't dead? How would you tell her you cheated death? She saw you get stabbed with Nightshade poison. You died in front of her, we held a funeral for you. Even I, your mother. I am in shock to see you come back from the dead. Don't get me wrong, I am truly happy you're back but we still don't have answers to what questions they may have. Staying low and hidden will be the safest thing to do right now.

Y/N: But I can't keep watching, how she suffers alone, not even knowing her partner is alive and kicking. Mom, I love her. I want to be with her so badly.

You couldn't hold on to your tears anymore. You are already sobbing when your mother pulled you into a hug and rubbed your back to calm you down.

Principal Weems: I know, darling. I'm sorry.

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #principal weems #larissa weems #drkmgsstories

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grvstnaya-svka · 1 year ago

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Wenclair headcanons

Wednesday and Enid sitting next to each other at Nevermore Graduation holding hands nearly the entire time. (Weems is alive and healthy and so very proud of all her students)

Esther Sinclair still upset but this time bc her daughter Must find a mate that isn’t Wednesday Addams and really oughta get to making her some grand-pups

Wednesday shoving it in Esther’s face as much as she can that she’s not only making her daughter happy but validates her . And keeps kissing Enid on the cheek just to spite Esther. We all know she LIVES to piss that woman off.

Wednesday getting down on knee to ask Enid to move in with her in the Addams family home. She already asked Morticia and Gomez and they are both thrilled to have her live with them.

Enid is ecstatic. (“Omg we are going to have so much fun!”)

Their first night back in New Jersey they have a massive family dinner and family game night. Uncle Fester likes to play fun little pranks on Enid but she catches on and spooks him as payback. They keep making each other laugh and Wednesday has never been so in love.

Wednesday and Enids first time happens after crashing a funeral. (Enid has noticed that Wednesday and her mother often casually flip through the obituaries during breakfast…) The whole family packed their bags like it was fuckin Beach Day and all went out to sit in the background of some rando’s burial service, but even Enid had to admit she had a lovely time. *

At one point during Wednesday and enids late night festivities, Enid gets excited and her claws come out and she apologizes but Wednesday looks her dead in the eyes and says “don’t you dare retract those! Keep them out. The whole time.” (They also wear their snoods, seeing as it is a special occasion).*

Thing and Enid are as thick as thieves. Weekly mani/pedis, pranking the rest of the family, etc. just causing trouble. Y’know ✨Besties ✨

Enid making sure pugsley is ok after each one of Wednesdays torture sessions.

On Enid’s birthday they have a big party (amongst the family) and Wednesday buys her a special collar and a dress. She also digs up her favorite great aunt Calpurnia’s ring to give to Enid.

She and Enid waltz the night away. Wednesday had taught her the previous year when she came to visit and they shared their first kiss. Gomez and Morticia are waltzing along side them. Until Uncle fester joins the fun and does the mamushka dance with Gomez. Enid is both entertained and stressed the whole dance.

After they finish dancing, they all give Enid her gifts. Wednesday proposes to Enid, who joyfully says yes. Wiping enids tears away, Wednesday dips Enid just like her father does with Morticia, and they share a long kiss as the family cheers.

#netflix wednesday #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #enid addams #enid Addams-Sinclair #the snoods stay on during sex

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bellemorte180 · 9 months ago

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WIP Wednesday

No idea if this is going anywhere or if I have the energy to keep working on it.

The doc is called *Victorian Ghost Story* has I do not have a title as of yet.

London, England

September 1841

When Caroline was a small child, no older than five, her mother had told her a bedtime story. The specifics of the story she could not remember but as she listened to the rain splatter against the glass of her window, she only hoped that it was true. Having it rain on one's wedding day was meant to be a good omen. If she was honest, Caroline needed something good in her life.

Even if it meant marrying a man she barely knew.

Peering at herself in the mirror, rust lingering in the upper corner and the small crack just to the side that showed the vanity’s age, Caroline wished that her mother was there to hold her hand. She would do anything to hear the whispered reassurance that she was doing the right thing. That this was more than some act of desperation. The white lace gown, a new fashion among the Ton, was beautiful even if the high neck collar felt choking. Her blonde hair was piled on top of her head with ringlets hanging in her face. She was beautiful, but as she looked deep into her own blue eyes, she could see her own uncertainty peering back at her.

Life had gone from black and death, to white with possibility in the span of a few weeks. When she had dreamed about her marriage before knowing who her groom would even be, this was not how she envisioned it to begin. Once she had been the envy of the Ton, a debutant to rival royalty only to be pushed from her pedestal and to crash to the ground, broken and injured. Time had moved onward, the rumor mill fresh with something new and Caroline was left to grasp the first hand that was outstretched to her.

A soft creek of the door hinge echoed loudly and Caroline’s head snapping upward, watching as the door open in the mirror. Her heart skipped for a second only to feel relief to see Elena looking at her as though she was about to shed the silent tears she was known for always having ready. Caroline did not know who was more terrified of this union, Caroline or Elena. It should be Caroline, as she was the bride but something told her that Elena won that particular competition.

“Stop looking at me as though you’re about to attend my funeral. I’m not wearing the right color.” Caroline told her, trying to keep her own voice from shaking. She watched as Elena’s shoulders tensed, the reply just on the tip of her tongue but Caroline cut her off. “I’m sick of black if I’m honest.”

“This isn’t a joke, Caroline.” Elena snapped, walking across the bedchamber and stood just behind her. She placed a soft hand on Caroline’s shoulder. The last year had been nothing more than a nightmare, forcing Caroline to rely on Damon Salvatore’s kindness. “You do not have to do this. It's not too late..”

“The bans have been read and I made a promise. I can’t break it.” She peered into Elena’s brown eyes that looked at her in the mirror. “And I don’t want to. I don’t want to be a burden anymore. No one is forcing me down the aisle. I chose to accept him and I’m not turning back now.”

“You’re not a burden! We love having you. Grayson is devastated that you’re leaving and-”

“I’ll miss you and your little boy but I know Damon is ready for me to be gone. You’ve been kind to me this past year, letting me spend my mourning with you-”

“It’s bad enough that Katherine has married into that family but you?” Caroline let out a small sigh and closed her eyes. She hadn’t been in attendance for Katherine’s wedding. It wouldn’t have been acceptable given that she was draped in black and in mourning but it had been the topic of Elena’s fury for months. “You can stay here. We’ll figure something out-”

“For me to be your governess? Or perhaps the maid?” Her tone was bitter and the slight wince on Elena’s face made her feel slightly guilty for her words. Elena had been nothing but kind to her. She reached up and took her friend’s hand into hers and squeezed. “I’m sorry. That was rude but it's true. This is the best chance I have and Katherine has been kind enough to arrange it.”

“But you know what the Ton says about him!” Elena cried, the same argument she has had since Caroline’s engagement was announced three weeks prior came tumbling out again. “Mr. Castle vows that Klaus Mikaelson is a monster and that he-”

“It's nothing more than rumors. The Ton feeds off scandal and gossip. Look what they said about my father in the wake of his death! Almost all of it was untrue. Sure he was drunkard after Mother died, murdered in a back alleyway behind some gaming hell and the entirety of our estate went to pay off his debts, including my dowry but the rest was fiction and Katherine assures me that so are the rumors about Mr. Mikaelson.”

“But Lucian-”

“Hates him. I don’t know why but he will see Klaus burn if he could.” Caroline was not proud to admit that she once had been as shocked and scandalized at the rumors of torrid Mr. Mikaelson and the horrid acts he may have committed in the north of England. “I don’t want to argue about this anymore.”

“But you don’t even know him!” Elena cried, not willing to give up the fight. She was like a woman possessed, wanting nothing more than to thwart her sister's plans and schemes. “You’ve had what? Four conversations with him? That's it? That is not enough to make a marriage, Caroline.”

“Women have married with much less!” Caroline placed her hand back on the vanity and curled her fingers, gripping the wood tightly as she grew more and more annoyed with Elena’s persistence. “A marriage of convenience is better than not having a place to call home.” She knew that Elena was itching to state that this was her home but Caroline did not allow her to utter the same thing over again. “I have nothing to my name and he wants to marry me anyway. That is enough for me.” She stood, bravery born out of spite and annoyance cursed through her veins. “Now. Enough of this. There seems to be a break in the rain and we need to get to the church.”

Caroline didn’t look back as she left the chamber that she had slept in for the past year but she felt Elena’s mournful gaze on her.

The wedding itself was simple. Damon held her arm as he walked her down the aisle, a cousin on her mother’s side and the nearest male relation she had to give her away. Only a few people lingered in the pews as she said her vows, her hand placed in the crook of her new husband’s arm as he guided her back down the aisle. The faces peering at her as she passed held expressions more suited for a funeral than a wedding.

Katherine was kind enough to throw the wedding breakfast. Her husband, Elijah Mikaelson’s home was bigger than Damon’s and seeing that Elena was against the marriage all together, she was more than happy to play the hostess. Caroline leaned back in the chair that was still and uncomfortable, the plate of pastries sat uneaten in front of her and watched how smug Katherine appeared in the aftermath of the vows Caroline had just spoken.

Elijah sat quietly, holding a soft smile as Katherine enjoyed the attention the successful wedding breakfast brought her. One would think she was the bride and not Caroline. It was small and intimate but it was enough for Katherine to beam in pride; a smirk that only grew bigger as Elena glared at her twin sister from across the room. The sound of thunder rolling through the room as the storm continued to rage outside.

“It is strange how they can look identical but have such different personalities.” A whisper echoed from beside her, causing her to turn to gaze into the ice blue eyes of her new husband. Her skin prickled from the warmth of his breath and she froze at the sight of his dimples creasing, his smile appearing to be calculating and cold. His blonde hair was curlier than hers, a few strands hanging down into his eyes while the rest was a purposeful mess. “I get the feeling that your cousin’s wife does not like me very much.”

“That is an understatement, but you knew that when you came to ask Damon for my hand.” Klaus gave a chuckle and not for the first time, Caroline wondered what had occurred in that study between the two men. “You seemed annoyed that particular afternoon despite the fact that Damon agreed.”

“He is a rather unlikable man, no offense as he is your family but it is true.” Caroline couldn’t help but laugh, a small but genuine smile growing on her lips. She noticed, for a second, Klaus’s grin grew slightly warmer. “And I cared little for his permission. It was your acceptance that I wanted. Not his.”

“So, if I would have said no, you never would have asked him?” Caroline remembered the day that Klaus asked for her hand. It had taken her by surprise, as she was not expecting it. They strolled through St. James’s Park as Katherine trailed behind, ensuring that their movements were anything but chaste and innocent. It had been the third time he called upon her, conveniently arriving every time she had gone to pay Katherine a visit. He had taken her hand into his, pulled off her glove and ran his thumb along her knuckles. The small touch was enough to cause her hair to stand on end, an unfamiliar caress that she was not used to. His words were not long or eloquent but simple and to the point.

Marry me, Caroline.

“No. I wouldn’t have because the choice was always yours.” She felt her skin flush under his gaze. The shade of his eyes grew darker for a moment, his gaze flickering to her lips but he did not lean in, the memory of their small kiss in the church playing on both of their minds. She had never been kissed before, but a man had never touched her hand either. “I remember the first time I saw you.”

“It was in this very room if I recall correctly.” Katherine had invited her around for tea, only to introduce her to her brother in law mere moments after they sat down. It was painfully obvious what Kahterine’s agenda was and with Klaus appearing both charming and interested in her, it was hard to turn away his advances. Especially when she had so little options.

“That is when we met but not the first time I saw you.” Caroline turned to look at him in confusion, her body shifting in the chair in order to make gazing at him easier. “I had just returned from my estate in Leeds and Elijah was freshly engaged to Katherine. He wanted to attend a funeral of a man he never met because he knew she would be there.” Klaus reached under the table and took her hand into his, pulling off her glove just as he had done in the park three weeks earlier. “There you were, draped in a black veil with tears streaming down your cheeks. Both Katherine and Elena on either side of you as your father was lowered into the ground. I didn’t know you but I wanted to.”

“I don’t remember you being there. No one had really come-” Words failed her but she continued to look at him. Memories from that day were hazy at best. Her vision was blurred with tears and she wasn’t able to look away from the casket that held her father. His death felt different than when her mother had died. It was brutal and harsh. She remembered how warm the sun had been on her skin and the smell of dirt as it was tossed into the grave.

“It was a hard day Caroline, I didn’t expect you to remember me. That's why I asked Katherine to introduce us.”

“You waited a year for me to come out of mourning?” The confession was confusing at best and terrifying at worst. Suddenly Katherine’ insistence that Caroline accept Klaus’s advances were so clear. Caroline only knew him for the span of a few weeks but he had been thinking of her for over a year. This was not as sudden for him as it was for her.

“You were not the only one in the midst of grief Caroline. We both had our share of mourning to do.” He lifted her hand to his lips, the kiss felt as though it was burning against her skin. She did not care that there were a series of whispers echoing around them or that that rain had slowed to a drizzle outside. All she could feel was his lips and the heat that coursed through her body. “But I promise you that I will do everything to make you happy.”

Outside, the sun broke through the clouds and a ray of sunlight streamed through the windows.

#klaroline #wip wednesday

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emptyheadwriting · 2 years ago

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I Leave This Letter to You, Beloved (Alternative Ending)

Be sure to read CMBIPP and ILTLTYB first for background

Word count:1.3k

Warnings:reader death,talks of suicide, hallucinations, and a funeral

Wednesday’s hands shook rapidly, the letter ruffling from her force. How could she ever live with herself, her brain was tearing itself apart as she cowered further into her seat, terrified to lift her eyes and have them fall upon your lifeless body.

“Please” she whimpered, her hands shooting up to grip the sides of her face in agony. The letter floated down to the floor slowly, wavering sideways on its descent before it finally fell. The paper’s movements ceased, everything seemed to go quiet, until a constant beep filled the room.

It took Wednesday until doctors started to rush into the room to grasp what the noise was and what it meant. “no no no” she said, voice getting louder with each word, “save her, don’t just stand there, save my wife! I’ll kill you, I’ll kill all of you” rage was all she could manage to summon as she stood from her chair and berated the doctors.

No matter her fight, there was nothing she could do, you were no longer there laying on the hospital bed. Only a shell, a body no longer full of life and love remained, and she could do nothing more than collapse over your chest, sobs of how sorry she was pouring from her lips for the rest of the night.

—

Wednesday Addams the Widow, it was not a title the woman ever hoped to hold when she married you, but as she looked around the small group of people that were standing around the Addams Family graveyard she realized that it has been finalized.

“I am so sorry my storm cloud, I can not imagine how you are feeling” Gomez said honestly as he laid a hand on her shoulder in an attempt of comfort. There would be none from his words or his touch, he only received a dismissive hum.

“I can’t believe she’s gone Wednesday, I thought we would all end up in a retirement home together like we were back in school all over again” Enid said teary eyed, Ajax by her side nodded along silently, his eyes not leaving your casket.

“A ridiculous thought” Wednesday said softly with a shake of her head. She had always envisioned you and herself dying together in your sleep, fading off into nothingness together, intertwined one last time.

Uncle Fester did not bother to say anything on his approach. No he simply stood by her, and snuck his hand around her waist before pulling her into a side hug, the squeeze on his own side telling him all the words of appreciation she would not dare speak, even now after all that had come from not sharing her emotions or caring enough about others.

Wednesday gave one last kiss to your ring before you were lowered into the ground, she shoveled on all the dirt herself as everyone else watched too scared to offer a hand due to the determination on the widow’s brow.

Lurch added your tombstone, and the ceremony was complete, people started to filter out, many leaving a lingering hand across your tombstone on their pass.

Wednesday sat on the grass next to your grave, her sight being overtaken by a shadow as her mother stood over her. “What will you do now my dove?” She asked gently, frowning at the way the her normally stoic daughter’s lip quivered.

The two shared an embrace in front of you before parting, Wednesday had things to do as far as she was concerned.

—

She flew back to the cabin, packed all of her things. Installed more cameras than there already was and locked all the doors and windows for the last time, for she had quit her job and knew where she needed to go.

She flew to your hometown, she had bought the first house she could get her hands on the day after your death. It was so strange. The place she had never bothered to visit or even really pay attention to a story about your time there, was the place she had decided she would spend the rest of her days.

Wednesday was full of regret at each pleasant moment she had. She visited places she had heard you describe and would breathe them in, cursing herself for never getting to see them with you. She would wake up every morning to sounds that you endlessly compared to those that would fill the cabins walls. You were right when you said those of your hometown were more, gentle a harmony of soft chirps and people starting their days greeted her pale ears.

On one of her firsts nights she decided to order food from the one restaurant you had mentioned before, you had mentioned it once in your time together, how she could remember that from a random parents weekend and not remember to show her wife proper affection and care was a mystery to her.

She unpacked the bag and sat down with your go-to order, and when she looked up across the table she saw you, bloodied, cut up, but with a small smile on your face. She ate a small bite, as her eyes stayed trained on your glimmering image.

“How are you liking all of the things that made me, me?” You asked gently, placing your hands on the table, fingers interlocked with each other.

“I’ve missed your voice” she starts, and looks away at the look of disapproval written on your face, “I know that’s not what you asked, I wanted to express myself is all, I love them all” she says sadly, “I should have experienced them all with you” her eyes finally going back to you.

You shrugged with a laugh, the sound making your wife shudder and nearly moan, it was heavenly, and she wished she had worked harder to hear it while you were still alive, “well I’m dead now, atleast you’ve gotten around to it” a wide smile forms on your lips at the upturn of her lips.

“I could join you” she offers serious, she knows she’s talking to herself, much too smart to not realize that this image of you was only her mind’s doing, but the offer sounds favorable and reasonable to her.

“No my love, you still have so much to do” your voice floats into her ear as your image fades away.

That night after her meal she calls her mom for a favor.

—

Months have passed since she saw you at her dinner table, she had picked up a few new habits.

The plants by the windows and on the porch grew as best as they could due to her novice gardening skills.

A few drawings were hung around the house. All done in charcoal, her own style of commemorating you in art. Each one was inspired by a part of you, your smile, your eyes, the way you would pull her close, and everything in between.

The most important of all, nightly calls to a crystal ball that was positioned on your gravestone. She would talk about her day, new experiences, and reminisce on your life together.

“I miss you a lot today my love, I saw a little girl at the store, her laugh sounded so much like yours I almost cried, I settled on buying her a candy that her mother refused her”

The private conversation was muffled by the walls and distance between the graveyard and the house, but the Addams Family Manor was a quiet home these days and Morticia and Gomez heard it nonetheless.

“Do you think she will ever stop cara mia?” Gomez asks softly, fingers dancing on his wife’s arm.

“Would you ever stop darling?” She asked with a roll of her eyes, knowing the answer that was to come.

“Of course not” he said like it was the most ridiculous question he had ever been asked.

“then no, she will not stop, she did promise our daughter in law forever after all” Morticia says gently.

—

Tag List: @wandaszn @thedemoninme141 @oh-thats-cute @jinxscatbomb @glorioushamsterqueen

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday x you #wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday fanfic #wednesday addams #angst

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kingluffy5 · 9 months ago

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Playing Detectives Pt 7 (Wednesday x Male Reader)

After investigating the Gates’ mansion Wednesday finds herself more alone then ever and Y/N contemplates how much he can trust those around him and how much they trust him, when Mayor Walker thinks he’s cracked the case he’s suddenly hit by a car, and after putting her friends in danger the Sheriff has forbidden Wednesday from investigating the case.

Last night in the hospital someone killed Mayor Walker, pulled out his breathing tube thingies, and I would bet my life on the theory of the person who ran him over was the one who killed him. Now everyone is in attendance at his funeral. It’s raining, me and Wednesday are sharing a black umbrella. Despite our fight it’s not my place to be mad at or to forgive her, it’s Enid and Tyler’s, we’re in a mature healthy relationship so we don’t fight over petty stuff like this. And also despite our fight we have a case to solve and a monster to hunt down, my chest still hurts from the wounds the monster gave me, but Wends’ stitches are holding up alright. During the night Wednesday discovered a music box that belonged to Laurel Gates which contained many pictures of her, I’m not saying I want a stalker taking pictures of me but it feels kind of inconsiderate that only she got stalked.

Me and Wends look over across all the people here, all the potential suspects. Bianca and the mayors son share some glances and Ajax is there for Enid, the Sheriff and his son look at each other.

All of a sudden a shadowy figure is hiding behind some trees, he runs off and me and Wednesday share a quick glance before we run after him through the trees. We lose sight of him and slow down, he then drops down behind us and Wednesday grabs the sword hidden in her umbrella and jabs it towards him.

He then holds the blade between the palms of his hands and he sends an electric shock through it causing Wednesday to quickly drop the sword.

“Still as sharp as ever, my pig-tailed protégé.” The man says, wait what, he knows Wends.

“Uncle Fester.” She says as she gives him a big smile. I’m sorry Uncle who now.

The man takes off his hat to reveal an incredibly bald head.

“Uh, hi.” I greet him.

“Who is this?” He asks.

“Y/N Barron, Wednesday’s partner.” I answer.

“Barron, oh I’ve met a few of you in my lifetime, whenever one’s around you know it’s going to be a good time. And might I inquire what kind of partner you are to Wednesday?”

“A few different kinds.” I answer causing him to laugh a little.

We start to walk through the foggy forest.

“How long have you been stalking me?” She asks.

“Just blew into town this morning and was hit by a wave of nostalgia.”

“I thought you didn’t go to Nevermore.”

“I didn’t. Your dad got all the brains, but I used to drop in on him. Usually from the ceiling with a dagger clutched between my teeth, just to keep him on his toes.”

“Of course.”

“He filled me in on what’s been going on. Monsters, murder, mayhem. What fun! I told him I had a job in Boston, but I’d be checking up on you.”

“What kind of job?”

“The kind that means that I need a place to lay low for a couple of days.” I love Wednesday’s family more every time I meet them.

Me and Wednesday take him over to the bee hives.

“This place belongs to a friend.” She informs Fester.

“You actually made multiple friends. That poor kid will be going home in a body bag.” Wednesday looks down in guilt and I do the same. “I like a hideout that comes with snacks.”

“Those bees are hibernating.” I tell him.

“They’re practically Eugene’s children.” Wednesday says.

Fester opens one of the hives to try and get one.

“That means do not eat them!” She yells at him.

He looks disappointed but puts it back while Wednesday glares at him.

“You know, when you give me that death stare, you remind me of your mother. Speaking of scary things, you know what kind of monster you two are dealing with?” Alright that was just hilarious.

“We haven’t been able to identify it.” Wends says as she shows him the drawing of it.

“It’s called a Hyde.” He says handing back the paper.

“As in Jekyll and Hyde?” I question.

“Hm-mmm.” He confirms.

“You’ve seen one before?” Wednesday asks.

“Oh yeah. In ‘83, during my vacay at the Zurich Institute for the Criminally Insane. Where I got my first lobotomy. But you know lobotomies. They’re like tattoos. Can’t just get one.”

“Tell us about the Hyde.” She cuts him off.

“Ah. Olga Malacova. Jeez, she had it all. Beauty, brains, and a penchant for necrophilia. Olga was a concert pianist, until one night she transformed in the middle of a Chopin sonata. Massacred a dozen audience members, and three music critics.”

“What triggered her? Or did she just change on her own?”

“No idea. I only saw her in group electro-shock therapy.”

“There’s never been any mention of Hydes in any outcast book. And Nevermore is reputed for having the best collection.” I point out.

“You guys try Nathaniel Faulkner’s diary?” He asks us. “Before he founded Nevermore Faulkner traveled the world, cataloging every outcast community.”

“How do you know this?” Wends asks him.

“You think your parents can’t keep their hands off each other now, oy vey. I showed up unannounced one night in Gomez’s dorm room. Let’s just say I wasn’t interrupting a pillow fight.” NO NO NO NO NO, I did not need to hear that now, I did not need to hear that ever, I need to pour bleach into my ear later so that way it will wipe this memory from my brain.

“Uncle Fester. The diary, where is it.”

“The Nightshade’s Library. Your dad parked me there and said I should settle in for a long stretch. And that’s when I found this nifty little safe, I was hoping for a stash of cash or jewels but instead I found a diary.”

“We’l sneak into the Nightshades Library tonight. In the meantime lay low. If you are discovered I will disown you and collect the reward tied to your capture.” Wednesday warns him as we turn to leave.

“I’d expect nothing less.”

After a second Wednesday barges back into the shed and shout at him to leave the bees alone.

— — —

Apparently Enid went to go find something from their room while she’s bunking with Yoko and they got into an argument, she ended up saying that Wednesday endangers everyone that she comes into contact with, which is honestly kind of true.

We are currently heading down into the Nightshade’s Library.

“Uncle Fester?”

“Who’s uncle Fester?” Xavier says appearing from the shadows.

“What are you doing here?”

“Since I’m an actual Nightshade, I don’t have to explain myself. What’s your excuse for creeping around in the middle of the night.”

“Research.”

“On the monster? I’ll save you two some time. There’s nothing in here matching that thing.”

“Isn’t that convenient.” Wednesday says.

“You know what your problem is Wednesday?”

“I would love to hear your piercing insight.”

“You don’t know who your real friends are. I’ve been on your side since day one. I literally saved your life. I believed your theories when nobody else did. And what do I get in return? Just nothing but suspicion and lies.”

“Fine you want honesty? Here it is. Every time the monster’s attacked, you’ve been right there. Starting with Rowan at the Harvest Fest. Then on Outreach day, you arrived just minutes after the monster disappeared, yet you say you didn’t see it.”

“I didn’t realize proximity was a crime.”

“Then there’s your drawing obsession. You have drawn the monster dozens of times yet you’ve never seen it. Or so you claim. You even drew where it lived. Then when Y/N and Eugene went to investigate, you tried to kill them so they wouldn’t spill your secrets.”

“You think I would hurt Eugene? Y/N, you think I would try to kill you?” He asks us, I remain quiet, I haven’t know what to believe over the past few days.

“Let’s not forget your oh-so-convenient appearance after Y/N and Tyler had been attacked at the Gates mansion.”

“If I am the monster then why haven’t I killed you?”

“Because for some reason I cannot fathom or indulge you seem to like me.”

“What’s to like?” He says.

“Dude just back off, she doesn’t owe you blind faith, she deserves to think for herself about who she trusts.” I tell him.

“And your problem, your a psycho. Be honest here, your not trying to stop this monster to avenge it’s victims or to bring peace of mind to their families, you’re just bored and want something interesting to do. You have no empathy, you don’t care about anyone, you are just as heartless as that monster.” He tells me.

This may have started as me being bored, but after Eugene got attacked this was personal. I care about him, he’s my best friend, I care about Wednesday and I don’t want to see her be the monster’s next victim.

Wednesday looks angrier then I’ve ever seen her. “He has to go through more pain then you will ever know.” She says spitefully, her words laced with venom and I smile at her.

She could be talking about my panic attacks, or she could be talking about her vision of me, what did she see, what was so bad that it would garner this kind of a reaction. I’m glad she defended me though, it’s nice to remember that she likes me too despite not showing it much.

With that Xavier leaves and Fester jumps down behind us.

“How long have you been lurking?” Wends asks him.

“Long enough to feel the tension between you guys. Yowza. Seriously, you could cut it with an executioner’s axe.”

Thing comes into the room and Fester hears him. “I’d recognize the patter of those fingertips anywhere. Hello Thing.” Thing taps angrily at him.

“You can’t still be mad about the Kalamazoo job. It wasn’t my fault.” With that Thing lunges at Fester and starts to choke him. “ You said you could crack that safe in 30 seconds. Five minutes later we were still standing there, you’re all thumbs.”

“Enough.” Wednesday says commandingly like a mother breaking up two kids. “Let him go. Show me the diary.”

Fester walks us over to a portrait of Ignatius Itt

“Here it is. Iggy was Faulkner’s right hand. Trained a generation of Nightshades. And behind Iggy Itt.”

“Wait you guys know Ignatius Itt?” I ask them.

“He’s my cousin.” Fester answers. Ok, cool, perfectly normal that my girlfriend is actually related to my personal hero, not like I am freaking out right now. Maybe Wends can introduce us.

“Do I have time for a snooze, or can you crack this quickly?” Fester remarks as Thing begins to try and crack the safe.

After a few times Fester says that this is turning into a replay of Kalamazoo. Finally he opens the safe revealing the diary.

— — —

We make our way back to Wednesday’s room as Wednesday begins to look through the journal.

“These are some sweet diggs. How’d you swing your own single?” Fester asks her.

“My former roommate couldn’t handle my toxic personality.”

She finally lands on the page about Hydes. “Faulkner describes Hydes as artists by nature, but equally vindictive in temperament. Born of mutation, the Hyde lays dormant until unleashed by a traumatic event or unlocked through chemical inducement or hypnosis. This causes the Hyde to develop an immediate bond with its liberator who the creature now sees as its master. It becomes the willing instrument of whatever nefarious agenda this new master might propose.”

“Artist by nature, doesn’t that sound like someone we know?”

“Anyone willing to unlock a Hyde is a next-level sicko.” Fester says.

“That means we’re not looking for one killer but two.” I point out.

“The monster and its master.” Wednesday says.

Someone knocks on the door, me and Fester go to hide in Enid’s pile of stuffed animals.

Ms. Thornhill walks in and begins to talk with Wednesday about how Enid is going to room with Yoko for the rest of the year, how she cares about Enid, how she’s becoming a better person, and that she clearly misses Enid. Stuff like that.

“Uncle Fester, Y/N.” She shouts looking for us, he accidentally knocks over one of the plushies causing Wednesday to walk over and uncovers us.

“Hey! Being a solo lobo has its perks. You get to live by your own rules, do whatever you want. Just look at me.”

— — —

We went to Xavier’s shed.

While Wednesday distracted him me and Fester put a tracker on his bike.

“Did you two place the tracker?” Wends asks us.

“Don’t worry we got you covered.” Fester answers, handing her the device to track Xavier.

“Okay. Let’s hit the road.”

We walk over to the transportation Fester has arranged for us and reveals it to be a dog walking company’s motorbike with a Dalmatian pattern. We look at him for a few seconds.

“What? I picked it up on my way out of town. You know me. I like to travel incognito.” He hands us a couple of helmets with a matching pattern.

Fester drives the bike as Wends sits in the passenger car and I hold onto his back.

We follow Xavier to a secluded spot by the lake where a car is waiting.

Dr. Kinbott’s car. Kinbott’s the master.

— — —

Me and Wednesday go to Weems’ office to tell her about the doctor.

“Principal Weems, it is imperative we speak with you about Dr. Kinbott.”

“Wednesday, Y/N. We were just talking about you.”

“Speak of the devil.” Kinbott says behind us with a tray of tea.

“And she shall appear.” Wednesday says.

“Dr. Kinbott was just discussing your assessment Wednesday. I need to sign off on it before she can send it to court.”

“Well, what’s the verdict, Doctor? Am I cured?” She asks Kinbott.

“I’m glad you find it amusing. The judge assigned to your case won’t.”

“I’ve explained to Dr. Kinbott that you’ve recently been taking small but meaningful steps towards embracing your new Nevermore family.”

“Yes, I think I’ve actually reached the half-hug stage. I’ve been reading about hypnotherapy. It might be a good technique to unlock my inner Wednesday. Are you a devotee?” Babe I love you, but dropping hints that we know that a serial killer is a serial killer isn’t the smartest move.

“Yes, very much so. I applaud your new willingness to delve deep into yourself. We see each other on Monday, we can start then.”

“What did you so urgently need to discuss?” Weems asks us.

“It can wait, now if you excuse us we have homework to finish.”

— — —

Me, Wends, and Fester sit in the Weathervane to discuss our approach.

“Kinbott has to be Xavier’s master. The Hyde lays dormant until unleashed by a traumatic event or unlocked through chemical inducement or hypnosis.” I say.

Fester starts, I don’t know how to say it, drinking, chugging, slurping, the ketchup.

“Are you listening? She must’ve figured out he’s a Hyde and used hypnotherapy to unlock him. That would explain their secret sessions.” Wends says.

“I think the kid behind the counter has clocked me. Yeah, he’s walking over. I’m going to put him in a Romanian sleeper hold. Cover me.” Fester says referring to Tyler. Oh dear god, I would love to see that.

“Relax. He’s not interested in you.” Wednesday tells him. Cmon Wends, it would only have been a few seconds worth of Fester choking out Tyler.

“Uh, made you a quad. On the house.”

“Hey, thanks kid. Need a refill on this puppy too.” Fester thanks him. This man is my idol.

“Tyler, this is my uncle Fester.” Wends introduces right when Tyler started looking confused.

“Oh uh. Hi nice to meet. Ow!” He shouts as Fester zaps him chuckling.

“Is that?” Tyler asks recognizing the monster from when it attacked us.

“It’s called a Hyde.”

“That’s it, from that night.”

“Your father gave you explicit instructions not to be near me.” Wednesday tells him.

“Yeah, my dad’s not here and I’m on my break.”

“Well, apparently a Hyde needs to be unlocked by someone. It’s master.”

“Holy shit.”

“Tyler! What did I say?” The sheriff shouts from the entrance way as Fester disappears again.

“Uh. For the record Wednesday was trying to keep a distance. I was the one that sat down with her and Y/N.”

“All right. Putting these up around town. It’s a bank robbery suspect and he’s a real creep.” He says handing us a wanted poster of Fester. “You haven’t seen him have you?”

“No.” Wends says.

“Yeah, he’d be pretty hard to miss.” Tyler chuckles. “I’ll pin it on the bulletin board.”

“Barron, how’re the stitches holding up?” He asks me.

“They’re alright Sheriff.” I tell him.

The sheriff shakes his head at Wednesday before turning to leave. “Why do I waste my breath.”

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah your family’s very colorful.”

“Ironic considering Fester’s the black sheep. He’s harmless.”

“So about rescheduling our date.” I’m sorry, what?

“Between the monster and my uncle.” Yeah she’s busy, she doesn’t have time for dates, believe me.

“Hey, no excuses. Figure after what happened last time, you owe me.” That entire sentence was just one big red flag. Plus you got off light compared to me.

“I can’t sneak off of campus. All eyes are on me.”

“You won’t have to, I’ll come to you. 9:00 p.m., Crackstone’s Crypt.”

After that he goes back to work and me and Wends leave to head back to Nevermore.

“I don’t have to go.” She tells me.

“I know but I think you should go.” I tell her despite hating the idea.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I know we’re pretty certain that Xavier’s the Hyde but until we’re one hundred percent sure, we shouldn’t rule out anybody else. I don’t trust Tyler and if we make him think you actually like him then we can keep him from knowing we suspect him. I reason.

She smiles the tiniest smile ever at that. “I knew there was a reason I picked you as my partner, for the case and for life.”

“And believe me Wednesday Addams, when this case is over I will take you on a lovely picnic date in a cemetery.” I tell her, causing her smile to grow.

— — —

While Wednesday is on her “date” Me and Thing are going to watch over the diary.

We are sitting around talking about random stuff, favorite movies, favorite books, opinions on Mondays.

“Look, I understand that you enjoy the consistency of hatred that Monday provides but I personally only find comfort in knowing a grumpy orange cat that enjoys lasagna agrees with me.”

Me and Thing argue a bit more before I go out to get a breath of fresh air.

I wonder how Wednesday’s manipulation of Tyler is going right now. Why did I suggest this plan, it’s stupid, damn it.

Suddenly the door swings open and a hooded figure barges in, before I can reach for my sword they stab me in my back several times and I feel a sudden pain in my head before everything goes black.

— — —

I wake up in the bee shed. Me and Thing are lying on the table both of us seemingly having just woken up. Wednesday seems like she’s about to cry and Fester is standing over us having used his shock powers to save us.

“For a minute we thought you picked your last lock buddy.” Fester tells Thing.

“Who did this to you two?” She asked us.

“They covered their face, it was my own fault, I didn’t keep my sword with me.” I answer.

“Cowards.” Wednesday spits. “I promise that whoever did this to you will suffer. An dit will be slow, long, and excruciatingly painful.”

Thing and Wednesday pinky promise on that before we do the same.

“I’ll stitch you two back up. They found your motorbike so the sheriff wont be far. You need to go.” She says getting up. “Maybe next time steal something a little less conspicuous.”

“Where’s the fun in that? All right I’ll lay low here tonight, keep an eye on Thing, and I’ll skedaddle in the morning.”

“I guess I’ll see you at your arraignment or the next family reunion.”

“You’ll always be my favorite Wednesday.”

“Be sure to tell Pugsley that. It’ll give him a complex.”

While she stitches the wounds on my back she notices my frown. “You’re sulking, more then usual.”

“Scars on someone’s back are their shame.” I answer.

After saying that she kneels in front of me. “I promise I will give whoever did this much worse.”

“I am sure you will.” I say smiling. We kiss and she goes back to stitching me up.

— — —

After stitching me and Thing up Wends went to go report her room being ransacked to Weems.

Turns out she knew of the monster being a Hyde and revealed that they were banned from Nevermore 30 years ago and that she didn’t tell the Sheriff to protect Nevermore. The two of them argued, noting really different from every other interaction they have.

We are now walking to our next class when Bianca walks up to us.

“Come with me. I have information about Mayor Walker’s murder.”

We walk with her down to the Nightshade’s library to find the Mayor’s son handing us some papers.

“Printed these off of my dad’s computer. Seems he was trying to track down someone. Laurel Gates? Looks like he started right after Outreach Day.”

“Must have recognized her there.” I remark.

“According to British police Laurel was presumed drowned, but no body was ever recovered.”

We look through the files.

“The gates mansion was purchased a year ago by a 90-year-old candy heiress. She then mysteriously died and gave all her belongings to her caregiver, Teresa L. Glau. It’s and anagram for Laurel Gates.”

“Laurel secretly buys her old house and then comes back to Jericho as someone else. Why?” Bianca questions.

“Revenge on all the people she blames for her family’s misfortunes. Your father. The coroner. My parents. Most of all, Nevermore.”

“How exactly does the monster fit into all this?” Bianca asks.

“The monster is a Hyde and it’s doing Laurel’s bidding. She controls it.” I answer.

“You know who Laurel is, don’t you?” The Mayor’s kid, Lucas that was his name, that was really bugging me shit, gotta remember that next time.

“Yes, but the real question is how are we going to get her to see us?” Wednesday asks.

“I may have an idea.” I respond.

— — —

“I’m sorry, you two want couple’s counseling?” Kinbott asks.

“Yes, despite how perfect it may seem our relationship has a few problems.” I say.

“Um. Okay, sit down, I guess. What seems to be the problems?” She asks us.

“He doesn’t appreciate my cello playing.” Wednesday said quickly. Okay I asked her one time through factime on Enid’s phone to keep it down because I was trying to sleep.

“She forgot to feed my pets the one time I asked her to.” I retort.

“He has an unhealthy obsession with anime.” She says. Unhealthy is a strong word, do I watch a lot of it yes, does it take up most of my time, yes, do I sometimes ignore other tasks to watch it, yes. Alright I might actually have a problem.

“She doesn’t tell me everything that I need to know.” This gets her attention.

“What?” She asks.

“The night Rowan died, when you touched my hand you had a vision. What was the vision Wends?” I ask her.

“It was nothing important, can we get back to our plan?” She asks referring to our plan to lure Dr. Kinbott into a false sense of security and tricking her into confessing.

“No, it’s about me isn’t it? What did you see?”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“Bullshit. What was it that has you so rattled that not even you are willing to tell me?”

“It wasn’t anything!”

“What was it Wednesday!”

“You’re going to die!” She reveals.

“What?” I ask hoping I misheard her.

“You die fighting the Hyde.” She says again.

I remain silent for a moment before sitting back down. “Ok.” I simply said.

“Aren’t you scared or angry?” Wends asks me.

“No, not really, I mean, I’d rather die fighting then being killed without putting up a fight. Besides I never really believed in fate or destiny to begin with, and if it comes down to a fight between me and the Hyde, I think I’d win, I got great swordsmanship skills and now that we’ve narrowed down our list of suspects then we can stop them before they kill me.” I explain. Honestly even if I die fighting, it’d be good to know that I died protecting everyone I care about and that I’d die as a hero.

“I think this is a little above of my pay grade.” Kinbott says nervously. Understandable, not every day you find out a teenager standing right in front of you is destined to die a horrible, brutal death. Also she probably wants to remain as far away from anything involving the Hyde since it was her who awakened it.

Wednesday gets up looking angry. “This is your fault to begin with. We know you’re Laurel Gates, we found this in your childhood bedroom.” She says handing her the music box from her bag. “You’ve come back to Jericho to seek your revenge. And so did Mayor Walker, which is why you had to kill him. Who better to slide in and out of the hospital undetected than a psychiatrist under the guise of visiting another patient?”

“Wends, what happened to the plan?” I ask. She really has a problem with just explaining to our suspects that we know that they might be killers.

“You’re not actually accusing me of murdering the mayor?”

“The roses you left in Eugene’s room were your mistake. They’re the same variety I found near your childhood bed.”

“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“There’s only one reason an overqualified psychiatrist like yourself would settle in the inconsequential backwater that is Jericho. It allowed you to crawl through the troubled, young minds of outcasts until you found one that you can manipulate to exact your revenge.”

“You know what. I don’t have time to deal with your delusional fantasies. I have a patient emergency.”

“Who? Xavier?” I ask.

“We know all about the secret sessions you’ve been holding in your car. I also found the cave where you’ve been holding sessions to unlock his Hyde.”

“And even if you guys aren’t the killers, it’d still be kind of weird that you hold sessions in your car.” I point out.

“You are so out of line.” She tells us.

“Do you know hoe violently unpredictable a Hyde can be? It was your plan to have Xavier committed before he could turn on you too.”

“Wednesday, Y/N, you two need help. More help than I can give you.”

She reaches for her phone. “Who you calling? Xavier?” Wends asks.

“Judge Reynolds. I’m going to recommend that you two stay in a juvenile psychiatric facility for observation.”

“Oh, please. We all know that we’d be running that place in a week.” Wednesday says. “Times up Laurel.”

We both leave the office.

— — —

Me, Wednesday, and Weems are sitting in the Jericho ER. Turns out Kinbott just got attacked by the Hyde while calling Weems to talk about our recent visit to her office.

The Sheriff comes out of the room and walks up to us.

“She’s gone. Dr. Kinbott’s dead.” He tells us.

“This ends now.” Wednesday says dramatically.

We both leave the hospital.

— — —

We both go to Xavier’s art shed with an ambush planned. Wends waits inside for Xavier while I hide outside with the cavalry.

We can hear faint talking inside when Xavier goes inside as he and Wednesday argue about the case.

The Sheriff and I barge in seeing Xavier holding a knife.

“Freeze. Drop the knife. Down on your knees.” He says arresting Xavier. “Cuff him. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed for you. Appreciate the help Addams, Barron.

“You framed me! I shoulda let Rowan kill you.” He shouts at us as he gets dragged out by the cops.

— — —

Me and Wends go back to her room to find Enid putting all her stuff back.

“Hey.” She greets us.

“You’re back.” Wednesday says.

“I’m gone for a few days, the place gets trashed, and Thing and Y/N almost die. Someone’s gotta look out for you guys.”

“What happened to rooming with Yoko?” Wednesday asks.

“Yoko’s great. I just decided I needed a few more boundaries.”

Enid starts to put down a line of tape to separate the room in half which is apparently something they’ve been doing.

“Skip the tape.” Wednesday tells her.

“Don’t tell me Wednesday Addams is mellowing out.”

“Never. More like evolving.”

“Well, one inch of duct tape at a time.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Because we work. We shouldn’t but we do. It’s like some sort of weird, friendship anomaly. Everything you’ve said about me is true. But I don’t apologize for it not anymore. It’s just who I am.”

“Thing said he missed you.”

“I missed him to. I’m sorry about Xavier.”

“We’re not. He’s a liar and a killer.” Wednesday says

“Besides there’s nothing quite like the feeling of being proven right.” I say as me and Wends smirk at each other.

“OMG, I ship you two so hard. I was honestly expecting you to get with Tyler at first but you two just work so well together.” Oh shit, right, Tyler.

“I still need to tell him about us and how he and I won’t be together.” Wednesday says.

“Well I heard he’s working the late shift.” Enid says.

“Alright, you go talk to Tyler, and I’ll leave so you guys can catch up.” I say before leaving.

— — —

I make it back to my room. I feed my pets. I lay down on my bed.

I look over to Eugene’s empty one. “We got him buddy. I can’t wait for you to come back.”

I start to contemplate the future. Now that the case is over me and Wednesday can go on a few dates, the Nevermore Hummers can get back to it’s usual routine when Eugene get’s back, Wednesday’s made peace with both Enid and Bianca. Everything feels perfect. It’s never felt this way before. Why does it feel like this won’t last, I’m probably just being paranoid but it feels like there’s one piece missing.

Suddenly I get a text from Enid, or at least Wednesday using Enid’s phone. When I read it I’m shocked, it makes so much sense yet I can’t believe it.

Tyler’s the Hyde.

#wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday x male reader #wednesday oc #the addams family

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youngerdrgrey · 1 year ago

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all the pieces aren't even in the box // the morning show, bradley/laura, chapter three

about: Bradley and Laura's last few months in Montana and how the world reacts along the way (and maybe how they find their way back to each other) ~ read chapter one / chapter two chapter three summary: As Bradley prepares to leave the ranch for the funeral, Laura's conflicting feelings bubble up. (read chapter three on AO3)

mid J U L Y (2020)

By the next morning, Gayle’s already put in the request for Bradley’s time off. It’ll only be a few days since Bradley can work Thursday morning, then start her drive. The funeral’s set for Saturday. Bradley will either leave Sunday while everyone’s at church or Monday morning. She’ll be live on air from the guest house by Wednesday.

Cory’s face only pulls tight once as he hears the full plan. It’s during a post-show Zoom with Cory, Stella, and Mia. Laura watches as Cory’s eyes bounce from Bradley to Laura within their shared Zoom window.

“And will we be replacing one anchor or two?” He asks.

Laura quips with only a bit of spite in it. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Cory.”

His nostrils flare, even as he barks out a laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of it. You, my friend, are ratings gold. I’d say you have the Midas touch, but I don’t want to get HR on the call.”

It’s Laura’s turn to give a fake laugh. Bradley flicks the outside of Laura’s thigh. Play nice. Laura turns her gaze to her woman beside her. Bradley still looks like she’s ready to neutralize a fight. But Laura lifts her brows in silent surrender.

She says, “This is Bradley’s trip. I will hold down the fort.”

Bradley speaks only to her, “Thank you.” Then she averts her eyes back to their computer. “Can somebody draft a statement so Twitter doesn’t freak out again?”

Mia speaks up. “We’re already on it. You’re taking time to grieve in conjunction with your family. No mention of you actually traveling for the funeral.”

“Thanks, Mia,” Bradley says.

Laura shouldn’t say it. She shouldn’t mention how they’re avoiding the funeral in the statement because of how hypocritical this whole thing could look.

Cory’s eyes shrink as he makes an exaggerated wince.

“Question.” He holds up a finger, and Laura feels a rush at the calculated voice he’s already in. He’s going to say it for her, isn’t he? “Do we think it’s a bit of an optics nightmare to send Bradley across country right now? Sure, she did it four months ago, but we have the spent the summer of our discontent tirelessly demanding that our fellow Americans hold the line. No travel, not even for emergencies. Yet here is Bradley Jackson, the face of UBA, doing exactly that.”

The air thickens as Bradley stops breathing. Laura watches the tiny wrinkles form between her brows. A wrench thrown by Bradley’s friend on the inside.

Bradley tries her best to sound friendly, but they all hear the crackle underneath it. “I’m not flying, Cory. I’m driving. By myself, with masks and hand sanitizer.”

He nods. “Then you’re attending the biggest event in your town since New Year’s.”

“It’s my mother’s funeral,” Bradley bites.

“Plenty of people miss funerals every day. We’re in a global pandemic.”

“Are we?” Bradley asks. “The CDC seems a little confused about that.”

Now that's too far. Bradley's being willfully obtuse for her trip.

Laura sets a hand on Bradley’s thigh, and Bradley whips her head to glare at Laura too. For a moment, Laura hesitates. If she publicly sides with Cory, after she was the one who set this in motion….

She can play the fence.

“Maybe Bradley can keep a low profile,” Laura suggests.

Bradley runs with it. “I don’t need to give a speech. Hal has got that covered.”

He doesn’t, but Laura can’t say that either.

Cory grinds his jaw. “And when America asks where you’ve been for three days?”

Bradley gives a dazzling smile. “We refer them to Mia’s brilliant statement. Honestly, the less people I talk to down there, the better. Gives me a perfect excuse to avoid a few uncomfortable reunions.”

Cory’s eyes shift, and Laura can feel them on her. “Laura? What do you think?”

She never should’ve made this suggestion. Bradley going is an awful idea. She doesn’t want to be alone in this house for three weeks just because Bradley wants to say goodbye to a woman that Bradley despised.

Laura smiles into the camera. “So long as she stays masked up, then we should all be fine. I have had to use the restroom since we went off air. If you’ll excuse me.”

She stands up over their commentary. Heads out with something like panic vibrating under her skin. She fucked up. She put herself in this impossible situation where she can’t tell Bradley how deeply she wants Bradley to stay. Her therapist isn’t available until next week, and Gordon will absolutely make things worse if she tells him how she feels.

Laura walks past the studio restroom for the main house. The rest of the call will be travel logistics anyway. She needs to center herself before she says something she’ll regret.

She starts a bath in the master bedroom. That will calm her down.

What is it about Bradley that makes Laura so unstable? She destabilizes Laura. She upends her time and time again, and Laura keeps allowing it to happen. Honestly, Laura should’ve never let Bradley move in. It was too soon.

Yet, even as she thinks it, Laura doesn’t mean it. Having Bradley here has been her North Star. Her gravity as every new piece of information sends the world reeling. But if her gravity falters, then where does that leave her? Splayed out on the ground, gasping for air that her lungs can’t process.

She undresses and slips into the water.

She needs to be her own gravity again. She can do that. She’s done it for over fifty years. Why should now be any different?

“Babe?” Bradley’s voice comes from the other side of the bathroom door. Laura’s traitorous heart soars at hearing babe again. Bradley’s been withholding in her grief. One of her little rebellions. “Can I come in?”

“Open it.”

In comes Bradley in her work dress with a cold glass of water for each of them. She pauses at the door, eyes raking along Laura in the tub.

“The call wasn’t that long. I, uh, took out the trash before coming up. I didn’t mean to let it sit so long. I just….”

“You just?”

Laura wants her to say it. Wants Bradley to find her voice in all of this.

Bradley lands on, “You know I can’t fight Hal. I can’t. He’s too raw and tender. He can’t handle it.”

“I suppose there’s a compliment for me in there.”

Bradley shakes her head. She crosses the room to kneel beside the tub. Sets the glasses on the railing beside Laura’s left arm.

“No. Well, yes, but not intentionally.” Bradley holds Laura’s eyes so softly. “I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve been forgetting that you’re tender too. And if all this is too much for you, if you don’t want me to go… then I can stay right here. With you.”

It’s an impossible situation. Laura’s heart pounds in her ears. She can’t do more than blink as she takes that in.

The acknowledgment is everything, but Bradley cannot possibly mean it. Bradley may hate her mom, hate everything that Sandy Jackson stood for her and did to Bradley and her brother. But she hasn’t healed from any of it. Hasn’t processed enough that this death doesn’t wreck everything else she’s built on shaky ground.

Laura says, “You don’t owe it to her, Bradley. You don’t owe her anything.”

On instinct, Bradley says, “She gave birth to me. She fed me and clothed me.”

“You fed yourself more often than not. You may think you’ve hidden it, but not from me. You — she hurt you.” She stills hurt Bradley, even when she’s not around.

“Not in the ways that matter,” Bradley says. She shakes her head. “Not in a way I can’t come back from. I’m not, you know, Hal.”

“You mean you’re not an addict.”

“I’m not.”

But Bradley does bury her feelings in whatever she can. Buries them in her reporting and in Laura and in midnight margaritas that make no sense for their earlier mountain call time.

Months ago, when Laura first brought up therapy, Bradley had been afraid that they would call her crazy. Is that what this is about? Bradley wants to prove to everybody that she’s mentally stable? Mental disorders and hormone imbalances are often genetic. Hal has them for sure, but Bradley could easily have something too. She just did a different job of hiding it and handling it.

As gently as she can, Laura says, “There’s other options than just ‘crazy,’ ‘addict,’ and ‘fine.��”

Bradley’s eyes narrow. “‘Crazy?’ What part of burying my mother makes me crazy?”

“None of it.” Laura twists in the tub to set her hand next to Bradley’s. “Bradley, that’s not what I said.”

“You literally said the word ‘crazy!’”

“Because you seem to have an aversion to talking about any other possibilities. You are very sane, Bradley Jackson, but when it comes to your mother, or to Hal, you can be so reactive and defensive—“

“I’m not—“ Bradley stops herself. Laura quirks a brow as Bradley flushes. “You don’t know them. Nobody does. I’ve spent my whole life defending them. That doesn’t make me crazy.”

“I know, honey. I’m not trying to diagnose you. That’s not my job. My only job is to support you through whatever comes our way.”

Bradley leans into the tub, so it can help hold her up. “How come this kind of support isn’t enough?”

“It is,” Laura says, “but we all deserve more than bare minimums.” Bradley eyes Laura’s bare body. Clear sign of deflection, and Laura splashes a bit of water out of the tub to stop her. “Focus.”

Bradley swipes the water off her face. “I am. You’re deflecting too. You didn’t answer my question. Do you want me to go?”

Laura sighs. Fine. “Of course I don’t,” she admits without looking, “but I won’t stop you either. I’m just… not ready for all this to be over.”

“Over? Laura, I’m coming back.”

“I know that, but in here—“ Laura puts a hand to her wet chest “—it’s harder to know.” Laura feels flushed after saying that. Vulnerable in the same way she’s been asking Bradley to be. It’s uncomfortable to say the least. To admit that Bradley has this space in her heart and in her life.

Bradley takes the hand from Laura’s chest in two of her own. “Then let’s do something fun before I leave. Anything you want.”

A last good day.

Anything she wants. They can’t leave the ranch, not that Laura really wants to. There’s only one thing they haven’t done. Four months in, and Bradley still won’t go horseback riding. Bradley always insists that it’s Laura’s thing. Bradley’s never been good with animals. Their earlier compromise had been that Bradley would go with Laura to the stables. Brush the horses. Feed them. But she still hasn’t ridden.

“Ride with me,” Laura says. Bradley’s lips quirk, so Laura corrects, “Horseback. Today.”

“Today!?”

“You said anything I want.”

Bradley rolls her eyes. “I thought you’d want something like a massage, or a picnic. Not try to kill me.”

Scout would never hurt Bradley. Neither would Sue. But Laura’s said that more than enough times since March.

She leans forward, knowing good and well that it’s not playing fair to draw Bradley’s eyes back to her body. Might as well remind her what she’ll miss, right?

Laura asks, “Is that a no?”

Bradley pries her gaze back up to meet Laura’s. “If you want us to make it out there, you better get out the tub.”

“Or what?”

Bradley doesn’t take the bait. She pushes herself up off the floor and grabs her lukewarm water glass. She heads for the door, talking as she goes, “What do I even wear to go horseback riding? All of my boots have heels.”

Laura calls after her. “A whole life in West Virginia, and you don’t have any boots?”

“I threw them out when I moved to New York!”

The next hour’s a bit of a blur. Bradley ends up in a pink and blue plaid shirt that screams “gay and into horses.” Laura pulls on a nice denim shirt and a white hat for the sun. Then they head down to the stables.

Laura squeezes Bradley’s hand before they go in. Reminds her, “Don’t be nervous. They can sense it. They already like you.”

Still, Bradley’s hand shakes when she holds it out so Scout can smell the back of her hand. The horsemen’s handshake gives the horse the chance to trust the rider.

Bradley mumbles, “Can’t believe you named your horse after ‘To Kill a Mockingbird.’” Laura allows it since the chiding means Bradley’s loosening up.

Laura brushes Sue, her other horse, who bristles at the fact that she’s not going out today.

“I’d been rereading when we got her. It felt appropriate.”

Scout touches her nose to Bradley’s hand. Bradley beams over at Laura. She’s a bundle of proud nerves until Laura says, “Now you can mount her.”

“Oh boy.”

Then Laura helps Bradley get up onto Scout. Corrects her form and grip on the reins. They do a few short laps inside to get Bradley and Scout acquainted before Laura checks back in.

“How do you want to do this? Together or separate?”

Bradley laughs. “Together please. Do not leave me alone with her.”

So Laura climbs up behind Bradley and curves her body around Bradley’s. She settles her hands on Bradley’s wrists.

“To help guide you,” Laura says, “but you’ve got this. I’m right here with you. Stay calm, and move with her. Keep your eyes ahead, so she knows where to go.”

Bradley turns her head just enough to see Laura’s face beside hers. “Anything else?”

Laura presses a kiss to her lips. “Have a good ride. And thank you, for doing this.”

Bradley kisses her back. “Thank me if we stay upright.”

Laura’s laugh follows them out into the field.

Nearly an hour and only two near falls later, they reach a clearing with a wooden fence and a picnic table. Laura helps Bradley down, and they tie Scout up while they all regroup and hydrate. There’s a small watering trough there for Scout. Bradley watches her drink with a little smile on her face.

“Admit it,” Laura says with a shift of her hat on her head. “You liked it.”

Bradley takes a big swig of her water. “I admit nothing. ‘Cept maybe how good it feels to have you behind me.”

Laura’s grin grows. “What did you say? Is Big Spoon Bradley Jackson saying she wants to be held?”

Bradley swats at the brim of Laura’s hat. “You hold me plenty.”

“I do.”

Bradley rolls her eyes and watches Scout’s mane blow in the breeze. One of the great things about Montana has been the views. Even now, there’s these gorgeous trees and wide fields of flowers that barely glimpse at neighboring properties. Bradley’s never had so much space in her life. Never felt so full.

“Let’s take a picture,” Bradley says.

Laura smiles. “Of what? Us?”

Bradley nods. “But not a selfie. We can balance it.” She gets up from the table to use her helmet as a prop for her phone.

“Bad day to leave the tripod at home,” Laura jokes. Bradley flips her off. Laura walks closer to the wooden fence.

Bradley sets the timer and rushes to Laura’s side. “Put your arm around me.”

“You’re directing now?”

Bradley huffs, and Laura just barely gets her arm up before the camera clicks. Bradley slips out of Laura’s grasp to set the timer again.

Laura says, “It might help if you tell me the pose before you hit the button. What do you want, Bradley?”

“I don’t know,” Bradley says while she changes it from five seconds to ten. “Something cute.” Something they can look back on once their thighs stop aching and the sunburn’s gone and remember that they had a good day during a God awful week. Something she can show Hal when he asks why she’s leaving so soon in a few days.

“Well, you’re cute,” Laura says once Bradley gets back to her side. She slips her right arm around Bradley’s shoulders, and Bradley slips her left around Laura’s waist. “So how about you smile and I’ll just—“

She presses a kiss to Bradley’s temple. It’s probably cheesy. Next level corny that this picture will be the two of them in the gayest possible outfits after horseback riding in Montana, but damn, if that thought doesn’t make Bradley smile even harder.

She never thought she’d get this. She almost screwed it up several times over, but here she is with a woman she’s crazy about who could have asked for anything in the world, and all Laura wanted was to do something she loved with Bradley.

The camera clicks, but Bradley doesn’t even hear it. She turns in Laura’s hold and wraps her other arm around Laura’s waist.

“I did like it,” Bradley tells her.

Laura smiles. “I know. But thank you for telling me.”

“Can I tell you something else?” Bradley asks. Once she does, her heart pounds heavy in her chest. It’s like it wants out of there. She has to gulp just to keep it out of her throat.

Laura must feel it since she rubs her hand along Bradley’s back. Lifts her other to hold Bradley too.

“Anything.”

Just say it. Say something. Say she’s never been happier than she is with Laura by her side. Say she could spend the rest of her life here if they were allowed to go out and be people sometimes too. Say that she’ll be back the moment she can, and this week is just the last thing she needs to do before she can really move forward.

A whole world of things Bradley could’ve said, but all that leaves her mouth is:

“Come with me.”

a/n: !!!!!! COME! WITH! ME! will she do it? should she do it? l

et me know what you think and what else stood out to you.

also, just to say it, fictional lesbian/journalist Laura Peterson would never spout zionist propaganda the way that her actress currently is. I won't say much on here bc it's a fic site, and I am here to escape into Montana, but also free Palestine. stopping Israel has nothing to do with judaism, and it's an awful weaponization of religion to equate stopping genocide with antisemitism.

#bradleylaura #bradley x laura #laura x bradley #bradley jackson #laura peterson #tms #mine #the morning show #tms fic #fic: all the pieces

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the-writer-nerd-ro · 10 days ago

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Only two days late, my Sara Pena and Hunter Richardson Halloween fic.

Happy Halloween, Sphere!

All Hallow's Eve

“Hey,” Sara said, doing her makeup for a clown-inspired Halloween look, “what do you want to do for Halloween?”

“I figured you were going to a party,” Hunter said.

“Oh, I'm booked Thursday through Sunday but no one's throwing a party the day of because no one wants to wake up hungover on a Wednesday.”

“That's fair.”

“So, we can celebrate Halloween together. However you want.”

“I do have a Halloween tradition, but you're going to think it's boring.”

“What? No I won't!”

“I go to the cemetery and I keep watch until around midnight, to make sure no punks defile any graves.”

“Ohhhhhh, that makes a lot of sense.”

“People get so weird about ghosts and like, I know they aren't real, but because they aren't real someone has to speak up for them, y'know?”

“Right. If the ghosts could do it they would but they can't so you do.”

“I'll haunt any asshole who comes within ten feet of the place with toilet paper.”

“Can I join you?”

“Do you really want to? There's a lot more fun stuff you could be doing on Halloween.”

“I can't imagine anything more fun than spending time with you.” Then she turned around and grinned at Hunter. “How do I look?”

“Like a clown.”

“Perfect! I have to head out but we can make more plans for Tuesday when I get home.”

“Thank you for not making me go to any Halloween parties,” Hunter called after her clown as she jingled merrily away.

While Sara partied, Hunter patrolled, staying a little later at the funeral home each night in case some hooligan tried something.

Sara's back-to-back slate of Halloween parties passed in a blur, each one in a new, wild costume, including a very unsexy cowgirl, a hyena onesie (“In the spirit of my fursona”), and a weirdly sexy personification of the hand from Talk To Me.

Hunter couldn't argue with that, though she fell asleep on Sara's shoulder in the middle of the movie, tuckered out from her late-night patrols.

Finally on Monday they had a minute without parties or patrolling so Sara convinced Hunter to watch the 2002 Scooby-doo movie because, “Daphne and Velma were definitely lesbians.”

Sara was content to hold Hunter close and keep her safe from any ghosts, ghouls, or weird little dogs that threatened them. Tomorrow was the big event, tonight Hunter could rest.

The next day began without much fanfare. Though Sara wore a bright orange pumpkin sweater and spooky skeleton cat earrings (Hunter did a double take when she saw them), Hunter seemed more dressed for Halloween in the floor length black gown that she honestly would have worn on any day of the year.

Since it was getting chillier, Sara dropped Hunter off at work and promised to be back later for guard duty, equipped with food, flashlights, and a pretty rainbow metal pocket knife she'd gotten a few years ago from a tourist trap. Hunter had no knives of her own, but she kept one of her dad's wooden baseball bats upstairs, just in case.

The day passed pretty slowly, there was some general upkeep but a lot of people tried to avoid making funeral arrangements on Halloween. Maybe they thought it was unlucky, or disrespectful to the deceased.

Hunter didn't mind a slow day, it gave her time to straighten up around the place and take a walk among the graves. She gave her right hand woman, Inez, the afternoon off, so by the time Sara came back it was just the two of them.

They had a little cemetery picnic, reminiscent of one of their first dates together, and then they set up shop, making sure they had a good vantage point to see any trespassers.

“I brought stuff to make apple cider later if we want,” Sara said. “And we can share my earbuds and listen to my Halloween playlist when we have downtime. Oh! And I brought blankets in case it gets cold.”

“You thought of everything,” Hunter said, a note of admiration in her voice.

“Well, I wanted you to have a good Halloween.”

“You don't mind that we're spending it at a cemetery?”

“No, because I'm spending it with you.”

Sara had told her a thousand times that that was enough, but as they sat in the cold, when they could have been anywhere else, Hunter knew it was true.

None of the girlfriends she'd had in the past would have done that for her. None of them had loved her that much, maybe none of them had really loved her at all.

“I love you too, Sara without an H. Happy Halloween.”

#sara pena #hunter richardson #drawfee #drawfee fanfiction #sara x hunter #hunter x sara

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zetasdiary · 1 month ago

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“Where’s V?”

“Oh, he had to go to the hospital for emergency surgery.”

There was a knock on the door and surely it wasn’t V. Then dad opened the door.

“Bass, I’m so sorry.” Aunt Sandra came and hugged dad. And then mom walked towards them and hugged Auntie. She was crying in her shoulder.

“Tannya, I’m so sorry, i came as soon as i heard about it.” She wiped mom’s tears.

After that, she saw me and walked towards where i stand. “Come here baby.” She hugged me tightly like she was the one who loss a child. “I love you and Xavier so much.”

Mom and dad sat on the sofa together while me and Auntie sat on the dining table.

“The funeral will be held 3 days from now, wednesday.” Said dad. “The coroner said we can take Xen’s body on tuesday because.” He didn’t finished his sentences.

“Alright i will take care of everything. You just need to sit here. Okay? I gotta go.” Auntie Sand just walked away leaving you and your parents.

Then i joined mom and dad by sitting in the middle of them. “Should we visit Uriel? We haven’t heard anything from him since last night.”

Mom shook her head. “No, he still need his time and let us just leave him alone for today.”

I nodded.

“Should we go to grab some breakfast or coffee?” Dad asked us and me and mom nodded.

I saw mom and dad cried and hugging each other as Xen’s casket was put down on the ground. Uriel and V was holding on to each other. Me? I was just stood alone, I couldn’t shed any tears because my feelings were numb. My family were all here. From mom and dad’s side. Even my cousin Austin was here since he lived in Australia with his wife.

How could you leave me here alone, Xen?

The funeral was over and now all of us are going to home because there was a wake.

“Jet, lets go.” Uriel shouted as i was about to walked the opposite direction.

“I think I’m going to home alone with taxi.”

He sighed. “We all through the same thing, jet. We all lost him. Okay? Talk to me if you need someone to, and don’t ever shut me or V down, okay? We are your brothers and you are our sister. Now lets get to the house together with mom and dad.”

I slowly nodded and followed him to the car.

Hour later we arrived at home. I saw mom and dad were greeted by their friends. Uriel and V were talked with their friends. Me? I was just hiding in the kitchen, hoping people wouldn’t notice me.

But guess what? My cousins were came closer. Not that i hate them, i love them dearly but i just want to be alone.

“Zeezee, I’m so sorry about Vier.” Peyton made the first talk.

“Yeah, we all here for you if you need anything.” Said Froy.

I was only smiled and nodded.

“We mean it, Zee. Talk to us, we are your cousins.” Said Debra. She was one of the cousins i was really close to. I mean i and Peyton were close too, but Debra was closer.

“Thank you all, but i just want to be alone, if you all don’t mind?” I asked them politely and they accepted it by moved away from me.

But not in a minute three people came to me.

“Hey... Zeta." A man made an introduction. "We're Xavier's friend from New York, I'm Franklin, he's Matt and she's Karen."

I smiled.

"We're sorry for your loss," Matt started to talk. "He was a good friend to us. He helped us tirelessly when we got a hard case. He was an amazing person i have ever met." My eyes was all over Matt when he spoke because he was wearing red glasses. Oh, i knew. He was blind. Xen ever mention about his friends from New York and one of them is blind.

"I know all of you. He told me about you guys several times. You all so lovely to him and I'm thankfull for that. And thank you so much to came." Your tears fell down. You were so touched when Xen was mentioned as an amazing person by his friends.

Then Matt gave me his handkerchief. It was odd but you took it. “Thanks.”

“We’re gonna talk to your parents if you don’t mind. See you around, Zeta.” Said Karen. They waved and you waved back to them. They were so lovely.

So many people mostly i didn’t know saying their deep condolences, and now i walked upstairs to take rest. I passed by his room and decided to opened it. It was so tidy and almost forgot there was a fight in here. I entered and slept on his bed. It was a new sheet. I could still smell his perfume. Then i cried to his pillow. I couldn’t yell his name without him being annoyed again. He was my other half.

But then i realized i still have two brothers that needs to be loved. So i got up, went downstairs and met them.

“Jet,” V noticed me. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” I smiled to both of them. “I love you and now i only have you two and our parents.” I hugged them both.

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n3on-graveston3s-calling · 3 months ago

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I'm gonna answer these both right now.

These have been sitting in my ask box for a few days and admittedly, I was just gonna let them rot there but.

Let's talk.

I write in my spare time. I don't get paid to write fanfictions ( unless they are commissioned pieces, which are all on a hold for the foreseeable future ), imagines, etc. It's something I do when I have the time & I have the muse to do so.

Why haven't I been writing as much?

-I suffered 2 major deaths in my family literally 2 weeks apart from each other. The first one, I was in vacation in another state & had to cut it short, turn around, and drive 1600 miles in 3 days to go home, pick up my family, drive to my other family, have the funeral, go through a tornado outbreak that same night while staying in a hotel & having nowhere to go, find out that some of my relatives houses were damaged & the city they lived in had been majorly damaged by the tornadoes, and then drive home. And then, 2 weeks later, there's another death on the other side of my family. So my summer was spent grieving and in funerals.

-Prior to that, I have depression!! I had a depressive episode that lasted for a hot minute where I didn't do anything!!

-NOW, I got a new job & am back to work for the first time in 1 year and 8 months. It took me a year and eight months to find a job that is nowhere even near my degree field. Wild shit. Anyways. My new job takes a LOT of mental strength. I work as an attorney's assistant. I work Wednesday & Thursday, all day. Fridays are my half days. Which doesn't sound bad!! Except I have a stack of things I have to file that is nearly 200 pages deep bc there was a gap between the person before me leaving & when I started that they got behind. So I'm busy 20 hours a week. & what I handle can be VERY emotionally hard, as I've recently found out. I can't share details bc privacy laws- but I have to read some not great shit.

-In the 4 days that I have off, I help my mother. I'm a partial caretaker for her; I do all of the grocery runs & doctor appointments in those spare times.

So. Yknow. I enjoy writing, I have requests that I've been working on & things in my drafts that I do work on in my free time, but like. I have a life, yknow? And I know everyone has shit going on in their personal lives, I get that. I know fanfiction & fandom is an escape.

But I'm just a person. I have a partner who I try to spend as much time as possible with bc we're long distance. There's a lot more happening that I'm not gonna talk about here because quite frankly- it isn't anyone's business.

I love writing. I love making fanfiction and I love writing requests but y'all have got to stop treating us writers like your personal fiction creators that exist only for your beck & call. Bc I've seen that happen a LOT over the last few years. Majority of us do this for free because we enjoy it. That's it.

So yeah. I will post when I have something done or if I have any silly little thoughts I wanna share about whichever character is taking up space in my brain.

K thanks bye.

#psa #kanon's anons #be nice to writers

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cherais · 8 months ago

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About Regret

My heart can carry so much, but this particular story is one of the heaviest that it can endure. I'm writing this with the hope that I can let go of some weight off my chest.

It was Saturday morning, early October 2020. I was working on my desk, trying to meet deadlines after deadlines. Being a lawyer, I was no stranger to working overtime. The pandemic has made the working situation better and worse at the same time. My husband and I (both lawyers) worked from home with our tiny baby and a nanny to help us. Working from home was a blessing because we could spend more time together, but the boundaries between work and life blurred. I tried to hold on by reminding myself that working in a top-tier law firm is the dream of many law graduates. It is also very rewarding, intellectually and financially. So I must be grateful, right? Sure.

I was in the middle of narrating my legal advice when suddenly I felt a rhythmic vibration just next to my laptop. It was my phone ringing; a video call from my family group - cousins, uncles, aunts and grandmother, the one from my mother's side. I sighed. Being sleep-deprived and overwhelmed with work, I felt slightly annoyed by this distraction. With the amount of work that needed to be done, there was no time to entertain such a trivial matter. So I just stared at my phone until it stopped ringing. When it did, I wrote a short message for them to read: "Sorry, everyone, I can't join the call! I'm busy with work now." oh, that felt good and bad at the same time.

I could see someone was typing in the group chat; it was my grandmother. I knew she had been sick for several days, probably because of "masuk angin" or some light sickness like a tummy problem. I presumed my cousins and the entire family had arranged a group video call to cheer her up and wish her a speedy recovery. The pandemic made it very difficult for us to visit each other in person, so a video call is the best way to reconnect with each other. Actually, that's very nice... but I was very busy. Maybe next time.

"Oh, so sorry you have to work this weekend honey. I hope we didn't disturb you with the call" grandma said in the group chat.

"No worries grandma! I hope you get well soon!" I replied briefly.

"Yes, darling, let's arrange another video call when you're free".

Oh yes, the following Monday, when all the work is done, I will have some freedom before another work interval. Maybe I should call her on Tuesday or Wednesday? That sounds good.

As I type this, I'm still baffled at how naive I was to think that there is always tomorrow and that tomorrow is guaranteed for me to do the things that I can't do today. Sadly and regrettably, the next video call didn't happen because my grandmother's condition deteriorated rapidly in the following days.

She fell into a coma around ten days later and passed away shortly after that. Her sickness was not only a "masuk angin" or tummy problem; it was COVID-19. She was on a ventilator for the last three days of her life, fighting for oxygen as her saturation gradually decreased due to lung failure. We could only see her through the video call with the kind nurse in the hospital because visiting her in person was impossible. When she passed away, it broke our hearts to pieces when we found out that her funeral must be held in accordance with the COVID-19 protocol. This means we can't attend the funeral in person; only one family representative and the hospital staff with astronaut-like protective suits.

That Saturday morning video call was my last chance to speak to her, which I missed. To make it worse, I was slightly annoyed when my phone rang that morning; oh, how terrible.

Two days after I attended her funeral (virtually), I was sobbing alone in my room. I felt immense regret burning in my chest, thinking how I was always so busy with my life and paid little attention to one of the people I cared about the most that is my grandma. I remember how present she was in every stage of my life. On my birthdays, my wedding day, or even my ordinary days. Her presence was constant, to the point that it was expected every time, and I took that for granted.

That night, while sobbing, I remembered her. How kind and warm she was as a grandmother. How she lived a very humble life - her entire house was just the size of my living room. She ran a small shop (warung) for a living, and whenever I came to visit, I was basically the special guest princess who could eat whatever snacks I wanted for free. This became a very special childhood memory for me.

Despite her soft mannerisms, she was really a tough cookie. Her life was far from wealthy, as the profit she gained from her small warung business could only cover her day-to-day life. No savings or shiny car, not even a decent bed to sleep. Nevertheless, she insisted on refusing any 'excessive' financial help from her children, hence her humble life. I also remembered her endearing, childish (in a cute way) side, like she was very scared of cockroaches and declared them her enemies, or when she was irrationally afraid of falling from the window when she visited my apartment on the 23rd floor.

Then I realised how little attention I had given to her when she was still there. I was so busy with my life, my little family, my bloody work and other mundane chores that I forgot to appreciate her love and presence. Despite that, she still loved me and cherished me. After she passed away, we learned that my grandma's bank account pin was my birthday. This feels so special because I'm not her only grandchild; there are many of us, yet she chose my birthday. Her phone's lock screen and wallpaper were my daughter's pictures, which showed how much she was fond of her great-granddaughter. And then, one time, her comments on Facebook resurfaced. There's this comment from her on my picture where she called me beautiful and said I was "her best friend since I was a baby". How cute for a grandma to think of her grandchild as a best friend?

It breaks my heart that her profound and constant love for this busy grandchild was somehow not reciprocated. I love her—always did and always will—but did I make the utmost effort to show how much I loved her when she was alive?

Now it's too late.

Long story short, all my regrets led me to a very dramatic decision to resign from my lawyer job just six months after her passing. I just couldn't do that anymore. Indeed, the job was financially and intellectually rewarding, but at what cost? The working style made me a different person and cost me one of the most precious moments in my life: speaking to my grandmother for the last time.

At this moment, I also want to write her name: Yetty Supriati. May Allah grant her the best place in Jannah so she can have all the luxury she never got in this world. And may she forgive me for failing to show her enough how much I love her when she was alive.

I love you, eni.

Teh Ais.

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