#YOU DON'T DESERVE THE ADDAMS FAMILY

[jukeboxhound]

Local paper: "[Local conservative high school] presents theatrical adaptation of the Addams Family! Everyone loves it! Isn't the cast adorable in this photo!"

Me, bullied in said school for being goth and the bullies also assuming that goth = queer, which was a punishable offense in 2005 whether or not you were actually out:

#YOU DON'T DESERVE THE ADDAMS FAMILY #when i went back to that school campus years later in my capacity as a professional #i actually had a panic attack in my car #hound barks

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family B-Side (3)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two (on the way!) Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

Did I already post today? Yes. Did I also post two chapters of Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins today? Yes. I am just incredibly productive today, who knows when it's gonna happen again lol

Anyway, finally! The next B-Side! This bitch has been stewing my guys, so I hope you enjoy it lol

There are two memes at the very end of this one, so definitely stick around

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't 😘

--------

For four weeks, Eddie feels himself losing his mind. He finds gifts in his locker every other day, and he's convinced they're from Steve Harrington. He now has a taxidermied bat, a fancy-looking vial with a skull and crossbones embossed in the glass and filled with mysterious liquid, an actual human skull that Eddie immediately incorporates into his next campaign, and a spider. An actual spider. A live spider that, after a little research, he learns is a fucking Black Widow that seems unnaturally friendly.

Eddie can't stress that part enough. Multiple people have mistaken the spider for an intricate vest patch because it just sits perfectly still over his chest pocket. It only moves to rub its head against Eddie's fingers whenever his hand passes over it, and even then it's careful to avoid hurting him with its pincers.

He names her Nox.

Those aren't the only gifts he's received, but they're the most notable, and Eddie is overwhelmed and flustered by the positive attention he's suddenly receiving.

The other thing driving him crazy is Pubert Addams, a guy Eddie had never paid much attention to before but now considers his mortal enemy. He's convinced Pubert is, at worst, potentially abusive or, at best, delusional and taking advantage of Steve's kindness and inability to brutally turn him down. Or maybe Eddie is the crazy one; he doesn't actually know. Whichever it is, Eddie is ready to take the very nice dagger he now has (gift number 15; yes, Eddie has been counting) and stab him with it.

Because he can't get more than two minutes alone with Steve before Pubert appears out of nowhere. Eddie runs into Steve in the hall while everyone else is in class? Pubert shows up with a hall pass two seconds later and literally waltzes Steve away from him. Eddie finds Steve camped out in the library during study hall? Pubert materializes in the chair next to Steve before Eddie can sit down, leaning far too close as he asks Steve to explain something from their shared Gothic Literature class. Eddie, by some miracle, is behind Steve in the lunch line (and he calls this a miracle because Steve always brings his lunch in a pink box with black skulls, which Eddie considers incredibly brave of him to carry around like it's nothing)? Before Eddie can do more than say hi and get a blinding smile in return, Pubert fucking Addams shows up and drags Steve away while promising to share his lunch.

Eddie is just about to lose the last shred of patience he's struggling to maintain when Steve finds him. Ironically, it's the same bathroom where they first talked, the one with mysterious mold growing in the corner that Eddie is convinced is some new species. It's the only bathroom with a busted smoke detector, and Eddie goes there to get high during his free period.

He's halfway through a joint, smoke curling around him as he sits on the sink counter and tries not to think about what else has been there, when the door swings open, Steve walks in, and Eddie chokes on his inhale.

"Don't die like this," Steve says, stepping closer and patting Eddie's back like they know each other, "It's no fun."

Eddie finally gets himself under control, taking a deep breath and wincing at the way his lungs burn. "No worries," he croaks out, regretting the departure of Steve's hand on his back. "What are you doing here? Please don't tell me you plan to use this bathroom."

"As curious as I am about the bacteria teeming on these toilet seats, no." Steve sounds genuine, like he really does want to swab the toilet seats and see what grows. Instead, he places his bag on the sink and pulls out a familiar vial with a familiar skull and crossbones. "I just came to drink."

"Oh?" Eddie says, leaning forward with a grin. He looks Steve up and down, taking in the pale blue sweater vest and immaculately pressed jeans. "You don't look the drinking type, Stevie."

Steve hums, popping the cork out of the vial and taking a swig from it. "This isn't exactly hard stuff," he says after he swallows, distracted enough that Eddie thinks he misses his eyes lingering on Steve's throat as it bobs.

"Just beer then?"

"What?" Steve asks, looking at Eddie like he's delusional. "No, it's cyanide and vinegar."

He says it with such conviction that Eddie believes him despite knowing cyanide is poison. "Metal," he says, looking away to take another drag of his joint as he struggles to break through his own awkwardness and hold a conversation that will somehow sweep Steve off his feet and make him forget all about Pubert Addams.

Before he can think of something clever and smooth and funny, Steve leans close and raises a hand to his chest. Eddie is about to warn him that Nox is, in fact, real when the spider scuttles onto Steve's fingers and settles in his palm. She does a little up-and-down motion, circles in his hand twice, and rubs her head against his wrist. "You've been taking good care of her," Steve says.

"Uh, yeah. How is she not biting you right now?" Eddie asks, remembering all the times Nox has warningly snapped at others who tried to touch her.

Steve snorts and allows Nox to return to her spot on Eddie's vest. "I raised her," he says, his tone casual like he isn't admitting to showering Eddie with inexplicable gifts for the past four weeks, "of course, she won't bite me."

"So, it has been you," Eddie replies, wanting to hear it from Steve himself.

With a soft hum, Steve takes another sip from his bottle. "Who else would it have been?"

Eddie licks his lips, takes another drag of his joint to brace himself, and hops off the counter. "So, uh, does that mean you li--"

Before the rest of the question can be asked, the bathroom door swings open again, and Eddie feels his eye twitch as Pubert Addams frowns at them. "So, this is where you were," he says, walking over to Steve and putting an arm around his shoulders.

"I told you I was going to the bathroom," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he stuffs the vial back into his bag.

Pubert looks Eddie over, a derisive huff escaping him as he dismisses Eddie and looks at Steve. "On the other side of the school? Really?" he asks, and Eddie would be overthinking what that means if he weren't sure his veins were about to burst.

"We were talking, you know," Eddie says, gaining Pubert's attention again. Steve looks at him, too, his eyes a little brighter.

"I'm sure," Pubert replies, rolling his eyes as he takes Steve's bag. "And now we're leaving." With that, he leads Steve out of the bathroom, the door swinging shut before Steve can do more than smile apologetically and wave.

Anger surges through Eddie, and the shaky drag he takes to finish off his joint does absolutely nothing to soothe it.

He's going to kill Pubert Addams.

--------

Funnily enough, Steve's mother doesn't learn about his crush until he's five weeks into it. When Debbie finally does discover the crush, it's because she walks in on Fester and Steve decorating homemade cookies shaped like anatomically correct hearts. She pauses in the doorway, looking between the two covered in flour and raspberry jam, and asks, "What on earth is going on here?"

Steve looks up, sees this as his chance to finally tell Debbie, and smiles brightly at her. "I'm in love, Mother. He's allergic to raspberry, and Father agreed to help me make him cookies with raspberry filling, so he can feel the same breathlessness I do when I see him," he explains, using his thumb to wipe raspberry jam off his cheek.

Debbie stares at him for a few seconds before looking at Fester. "How long have you known?" she asks.

"Five weeks," Fester admits, looking apologetic. "I wanted to tell you, Pumpkin! But Steve asked me not to so he could tell you himself."

She sighs and walks over to the island, sitting on the edge of a stool and taking one of the cookies for herself. She bites off a pulmonary vein, looking thoughtful as she chews. "I must admit, these are damn good cookies," she finally says, taking one more bite before passing it to Fester to finish. "Tell me about him."

And Steve does. He gushes about Eddie for a solid hour without taking a single breath, spilling everything he's seen Eddie do and how he's reacted to all of Steve's gifts and how he gets so obviously jealous when Pubert butts into their conversations. He tells Debbie about Eddie not screaming when he saw Nox, about him selling drugs, and about his interest in music. Steve laments his hair but eagerly describes the treatment routine he already has in mind.

By the time he's done, the cookies are decorated and his mother's expression has grown a little pained. "Steve, darling, come with me," she says, getting up from the chair and leading him out of the kitchen while Fester starts to clean up.

Steve waits until Debbie has brought him to her spare room to ask, "Did I do something wrong?"

"Well, did you remember my rules about crushes?"

"Yeah. I've talked to him a lot."

Debbie smiles and brings Steve over to the bed, sitting him down and straightening his hair before perching next to him. "Then, you're not in trouble, but you've been going about this all wrong, dear."

"Should I tell Pubert to stop making Eddie jealous?"

"Absolutely not," Debbie says, shaking her head firmly. "In fact, he could try harder. Nothing gets to a man like someone he can't have, especially if he thinks they're in distress."

Steve blinks, frowning slightly as he tries to figure out where, exactly, he's gone wrong. Eddie seems perfectly enamored with him, after all, and Pubert's goading is encouraging his affections, which is the only reason Steve has allowed it to continue. "Did I give him a live spider too soon?" Steve asks, figuring that's the problem here.

"No, that's not...," Debbie trails off, mutters something about Fester being an idiot, and clears her throat. "Steve, your father is the last person you should approach for love advice."

"But...you agreed to marry him, so he must have done something right," Steve says.

Debbie barks a laugh, waving her hand dismissively. "I married your father for his money. I attempted to kill his entire family and only stopped when he promised to give me everything I asked for. I would hardly call him a casanova."

Steve nods along, smiling a little as she speaks. He's heard their great love affair many times, but he doesn't get tired of it. "But you actually love him anyway, right? Father says it's because he showered you with gifts. So, that's what I'm doing."

"I...do love your father," Debbie admits, sighing as though she doesn't know how that happened either. "But it's less because of his gifts and more because...he gave me the devotion I wanted. Anyway, if you learn anything from us, it should be that love comes second."

"What comes first?"

Debbie smiles, the expression positively devious, and Steve can't help returning it. "Obsession," she says, her shoulders rolling back some as pride fills her. "Occupy his every waking thought. Make yourself irresistible. Make him dream of you at night. Overwhelm him with desire until he simply must act on it."

"Oh," Steve says, thinking of how his father acts around Debbie and realizing that obsession never quite went away. But it's worked out well for them, and he knows his mother has experience with luring men into her arms. He nods once and asks, "So, what should I do?"

"I'm so glad you asked," Debbie says, her smile bright and her eyes filled with excitement. "You'll have Eddie falling to his knees before you in no time."

--------

Eddie didn't think it could get worse. He was already attracted to Steve, already distracted by every little movement.

He was wrong. So incredibly wrong.

Because here he is, his mouth dry and his palms sweaty and his cheeks warm because of Steve. He's not even doing anything. Well, that's not true. Steve is curling his tongue around a lollipop before sucking it into his mouth like he'll die without it. But it's more than that. It's the painted-on jeans that hug his legs; it's the pastel pink hoodie (with little bats on the cuffs) that rides up whenever Steve moves to show off a strip of skin just above his waistband; it's the way he finishes the lollipop and pulls out lipgloss, casually telling Pubert it's raspberry flavored as he puts it on.

Eddie swallows around the dryness in his mouth, gripping his locker door so tight that his knuckles turn white as he looks inside it. Sitting innocently on top of everything is a Tupperware container of cookies with raspberry filling (according to the label), and Eddie is ready to eat one just so he can die knowing what Steve's lips taste like.

That's not even the worst of it. The worst is that Steve transfers into Eddie's Music Theory class, smiling innocently while the teacher introduces him and then directs him to sit at the empty desk next to Eddie. When he's close, Eddie realizes Steve smells like cookies and cream ice cream, and he's tempted to ask if Steve smells like his favorite flavor on purpose.

The teacher saves him from the embarrassment of blurting out the question by announcing a project. The teacher then dooms him by telling everyone they're required to work with their desk neighbor. Eddie grips his pen tightly when the teacher tells them to spend the rest of their class time discussing the project.

"So," Steve says, getting Eddie's attention. When he looks over, Steve is leaning forward on his desk, chin propped in his hand as he looks at Eddie. "Want to come over to my place after school? To work on the project, I mean."

Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds, his tongue stuck in his throat. To his credit, Steve doesn't say anything or call Eddie out for staring at him. He just waits patiently with a little smile curling his lips. Eddie finally clears his throat, his voice coming out a little strained when he says, "Yeah, sure, sounds good. After school. Your place. Project."

Smooth. Real smooth.

When Steve just smiles wider and stretches his arms above his head, pulling his hoodie up, while suggesting they do the project on the evolution of heavy metal music, Eddie realizes he's probably going to die after school.

He can't wait.

-------

Tag List (I think there's still room for a few more people ^_^)

@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane, @steddieonbigboy, @ravenpainter, @read-write-thrive, @deadontheinside20, @yeahhhh-suga, @nectandra, @mogami13, @mx-jinxous, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @xoxoladyclara

@zaddipax, @dycte, @breealtair, @geekymagicalpotato, @janea-grill, @juliasthename-adhdismygame, @yikes-a-bee, @wayward-people, @st-fics, @disrespectedgoatman, @bipusssy, @cottagecorebutnaturescaresme, @nightowl14028018, @that-binchh, @your-confused-friend, @irethsune, @goosesister, @strawberryyyenthusiast, @irregular-child, @theverywest

And, finally, a two-for-one meme special because I couldn't decide which was funnier:

#steddie #steddie fic #addams family b side #addams! steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #pubert addams #fester addams #debbie jellinsky #steve deserves good parents actually #my writing #sorry it's been so long the inspiration took a while to hit for this one hfdjks

[nouvxllev]

"When I saw you

I fell in love, and

you smiled

because you knew

-William Shakespeare"

LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.

I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭

amore, amore, amore.

Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)

Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!

a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder

masterlist

I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.

"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."

"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."

"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"

"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."

"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"

"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"

"I fail to see my fault."

"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear—"

I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.

If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.

Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.

But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.

I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.

I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.

If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.

I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.

I could lose the name I print on paper.

I could lose my name.

And then I realized I haven't.

There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.

I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.

My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.

I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.

A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.

I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.

Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.

And so that's what I did.

I wish I hadn't.

Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.

A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?

When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.

Why were they smiling?

"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.

They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.

They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?

They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.  

"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."

They stole one more look of me.

"Terrifyingly bewitching."

It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.

I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.

Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.

Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.

Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.

And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.

I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.

Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.

How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.

But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.

My home.

But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.

I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.

I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.

When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.

And when I came back, they were there.

And when I approached them, it felt right.

It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.

Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.

Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.

I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.

I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.

What terrified me is why I was back.

Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.

"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.

They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.

"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.

"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.

I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."

I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.

It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.

"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.

They sighed, my lips twitched.

"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"

"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I need to reason to?"

"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.

Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.

"Nothing."

I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"

"Mhm."

"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"

"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."

"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."

"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."

It was my turn to sigh.

"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."

Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."

"No. No, you haven't."

If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.

It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.

Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.

In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.

I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.

I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.

But, instead, my heart responded.

When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.

Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.

My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.

I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.

It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.

I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.

Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.

In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.

It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.

"Wends!"

Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.

As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.

Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.

It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.

They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.

Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"

It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.

I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."

I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.

"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."

"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."

I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."

"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.

"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."

The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.

Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.

It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.

I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."

They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."

"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."

"You're an author?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"Are you a painter? An artist?"

"Well... I—no?"

"Then we both don't know what we're doing."

Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.

"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.

"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."

"Oh."

I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.

"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."

"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.

"I'll miss you, Wednesday."

Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.

Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.

Now it felt like I should've lied for them.

I will forever miss you.

I wrote. I never showed them.

One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.

I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.

I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.

Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.

Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.

"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."

"Who others?"

"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."

"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."

"Don't flatter me."

"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."

"Addams."

I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."

"What happened to you there? You met someone?"

"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"

"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"

"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."

"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."

"They're no one."

"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"

I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."

"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"

I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.

But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.

The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.

I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.

I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?

I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Y/n?"

I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.

"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"

"He proposed to me."

Oh.

I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.

I realized I was wrong.

Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.

I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.

But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.

Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know if I love him."

"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"

"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"

"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"

"You're everything."

It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.

That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.

I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.

Now I ache of them.

"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."

Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.

Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.

"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.

She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.

"And do you believe in that, mother?"

Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."

"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."

"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."

"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."

She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""

"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."

"Yet here we are."

Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.

She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.

But no one told her it could be a person.

Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."

"Well, I—"

"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."

You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.

"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"

"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."

"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.

You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"

Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.

Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."

"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.

"I do not! When did I ever—"

"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.

"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.

"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.

You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."

Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"

"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."

And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.

"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."

You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.

She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.

You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.

"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."

Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."

"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.

It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.

"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.

You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."

"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."

"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.

By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.

Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.

You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.

"Amore." She whispered.

"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.

You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"

"Can I... Can you—"

You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"

She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.

Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."

But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.

You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.

"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.

You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."

"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."

Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."

"When it comes to you, I do and I can."

Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.

"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."

"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.

One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.

You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.

"May I kiss you?"

"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."

She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.

You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.

You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.

"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.

"Ever since you've met me."

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”

“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”

You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”

You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."

"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.

You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"

Wednesday blinked. "I always will."

You smiled.

And Wednesday smiled back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x gnreader #wednesday addams x gn!reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x female reader

[hells-ringleader]

Here's why I still root for canon lucilith and why I'm hopeful:

🌹 luci still wears his wedding ring.

💍 luci misses his wife to the point he's depressed he never stopped loving her

💝 luci and lilith were canonly stated by vivzie to be "madly in love" And be compared to the addams family main couple, and were said to take turns in bed and in the relationship w being the dominant partner so even viv ships it no way she will just drop it like it's hot. Bruh she even stated they make cheesy pick up lines to each other and are a cheesy couple lol its beautiful she obviously loves then together so there HAS to be more context to why they are apart rn

🕊 the story would be better and not filled with endless bad parents especially bad moms. Pls no more Stella's. We do not need that.

🥂we actually never heard much about liliths side so don't mark her evil yet. We know literally nothing guys if the staffs smart they would give her a good reason to be on that beach . And not make her another bad mom with no morals. Pls

👰‍♀️🤵 luci deserves this. Literally they can reunite next reason. Maybe lilith will talk about everything and they will need to make up somehow. And probably work through the issues a lot. But a happy ending would be amazing for the two. Lilith is returning next season. It's basically confirmed now. So she will see him again. Pls reunite the love birds lol also he can be bi or pan still and be w her look up huntlow. It can happen. There's no reason this ship cannot still happen

🥰 this would actually be cuter than just another toxic mom. Give luci a good relationship.

😍even with issues they can work it out like any good couple, even if in therapy

🔥they literally been through too much together to just write them as toxic. There's more to this.

🧸the canon info from viv especially sold me on this ship. And the fact luci still wears the ring in every photo and screenshot. Always.

👑Viv even confirmed there relationship to be like "behind every great man is a greater wife" or something like that. Hell needs her to return. To be the queen again. Luci needs his queen again too.

None of this is set in stone obvs but you can't take lucilith outta my brain lol it'll be my fave always love me lovey dovey couples

#lucifer: the short king himself #roleplay time: hellfire! #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rp #lucillith #lucilith: the king and queen #lucilith #hazbin hotel lilith #lilith morningstar #lilith hazbin hotel #lucifer x lilith #lilith x lucifer #lilith magne #am i in denial? perhaps but literally we know NOTHING

[king-of-the-underworld-hades]

Can you please do a Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair x Male Reader imagine? Where Reader is from a popular family of hybrids and tribrids, where Reader is a Vampire, a Witch and a Shapeshifter. And the three of them became roommates temporarily because there were no more available rooms for him in the boys' dormitory.

Tri-problem (Male)

Art by TanyaF2022 on X/Twitter.

You sigh as you feel the bumps of the road as the family chauffeur, Jack drives you to Nevermore Academy. You pull out your phone and start swiping on Instagram to see all your "friends" stories and whatnot. Rolling your eyes you start to block them all one by one. "Are you okay young sir?" Jack asks as he looks at you in the rearview mirror. "I told you to call me Y/N," you said annoyed. "But if you must know I'm just annoyed. Why am I being punished for something that my parents agree was the right action?" "Well, I doubt the school board was happy to hear you almost ended the life of your classmate," Jack said causing you to roll your eyes. "Please. No one would've missed him. He deserved it. He assaulted Normies to feed his ego. There is no excuse for that." "Yes, but you decided to, hex him, suck out almost two liters of his blood, and shapeshifted into a silverback gorilla to break both his arms," Jack said flatly. "And?" You said as if it wasn't a big deal. Jack just sighed.

"Well Mister L/N your father had informed me of your... predicament," Larissa Weems, the principal of Nevermore said as you sat across from her. "We have had your uniform custom made as your family requested but... I- uh..." she stumbled over her words causing you to raise an eyebrow. "We have no space in the boy's dormitory... and well... since you have no family in Jericho... I'm afraid you'll have to stay in the girls dormitory..." "You gotta be kidding me..."

She was indeed not kidding... here you were... standing in front of a dorm in Ophelia Hall... "Fuck my life..." You sigh and knock. Not like you had a choice all your stuff was there... "Enid. The door," you heard a flat cold muffled voice on the other side of the door "Coming~" you heard a second, sweeter warmer muffled voice. Soon the door was opened. "Hello...~ oh- I don't think I know you... have I seen around?" The girl asked her wide smile which showed off her sharp canines never faltering. She was about 5'2, had fair skin, rosy cheeks, pale blue eyes, blond hair with pink and blue tips, a pink sweater with white and maroon diamonds, a maroon skirt, and white thigh-high socks. You see that inside the dorm another girl was sitting at a desk writing in a typewriter. She had pale skin, black hair that was tied into two even braids, anthracite eyes, and a blank yet focused expression. She wore a pair of black boots, black jeans that went over the boots, a black shirt with white stripes that were slightly above her belly button, a black shirt with Ghostface on it that was the same length as the undershirt, a black vest, and a pair of black fingerless gloves. Before you were able to answer the blond girl's question, the ravenette turned and looked at you, her cold piercing gaze locked with your gaze as she spoke. "Y/N L/N. Correct?" Her voice was cold and monotone. "...Y-Yeah..." You mumble as the blonde's expression lit up. "You're our new roomie!" She exclaimed grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. Now inside you, we're able to see the room clearer. It was split in half, the spider web window was only halfway filled with color on, what you assume is the blonde's side, the other side had no color and was just normal glass with no tint. The blonde's side of the room was very colorful. Her bed frame was white and her blanket was splattered with multiple colors, her bed was on top of a puzzle-like rug with each piece being colored differently, ribbons were hanging from the ceiling, and a desk littered with notebooks, markers, pens, etc. A bean bag chair, posters, and so much more. The ravenette's side was the complete opposite. There was a lamp, a black cello, a black sheet music stand, a desk with a black typewriter, a black bed, and a black leather chair. All your stuff was neatly set in a corner of the room. The blonde let go of her hand as she looked at you her grin somehow wider. "My name is Enid Sinclair! I'm a Fur, AKA a werewolf! Nice to meet you roomie!" Enid said excitingly as she went to the ravenette and grabbed her cheeks making her look at you. "This is Wednesday Addams! She may look gloomy but she's a softie!" Enid exclaimed before Wednesday leaned away scowling. "...Nice to meet two..." You mumbled. "So~," Enid said as she leaned closer to you so close you could feel her breath on your face. "What are you? Fur, Scales, Fangs, Psychic, or something else?" She asked curiously. "Personal space Enid," Wednesday reprimanded her from her chair causing Enid to lean back pouting muttering "I was just asking..." under her breath. "I'm a tribrid... I'm part Vampire, Witch, and Shapeshifter," You explained as Wednesday stood from her typewriter. "Your family is known for that are they not?" Wednesday asked rhetorical. "Your family is known for giving birth to Hybrids and Tribrids," She said monotone with her cold expression. "Yeah... they are," you said as Wednesday nodded. "Weems had informed us of your... incident. Try to behave yourself," Wednesday said as she headed for the door. "Unpack and try not to make a mess of things," she said before leaving. "She always like that?" You ask. "Pretty much," replies Enid.

As the next two weeks passed you got accustomed to living with the two. You found out that Enid would try and snoop when you were on your phone or laptop to find something to put on her blog. When you caught her she blushed and turned away but after that day she would randomly ask to things, favorite color, would you rathers, song taste, etc. You got used to "Addams schedule," as Enid calls it. Basically when she did her writing when she wanted to be left alone, when she would leave for coffee, etc.

As time went on Wednesday had admitted she got used to your presence and even let you watch her write. Yoko, a fellow vampire and friend of Enid said that most Vamipres have a calming presence around them. Ironic. So since Wednesday hadn't really spent a prolonged time near vampires she was getting a heavy dose of it.

Enid on the other hand would paint your nails, do your hair, take you on friend dates, etc. You would talk to her about werewolf stuff, since you had cousins who were part werewolf you could relate in some aspects. After five months of living with the roommates, Weems came to visit.

"Hello girls, and Mr. L/N." "Yo," you did a two-finger salute from Enid's bed, your head in her lap as she dyed the tips of your hair. "I have news, one of the boys has moved out of his dorm as his parents found a suitable house in Jericho, so that means that Mr. L/N here will finally be moving to the boys' dorm. Fun!" Weems said with a smile but Enid stood up causing your head to fall onto the mattress. "What!? B-but he can't- I mean-," Enid stammered but Wednesday spoke I'm her usual monotone and cold tone. "What Enid is trying to say is we don't wish for Y/N's leave. He's been here for six months now. We have grown attached. So much so," Wednesday said as she stood from her desk and walked over to you, who had sat up. She cupped your face, causing you to raise an eyebrow, she then leaned down and kissed you softly. Her hands were cold to the touch. Her lips were soft and plush and tasted like coffee. Wednesday soon pulled away and looked at Weems. "We've started a polygamous relationship," She said as she looked at Enid who was blushing. Enid quickly walked over to you and kissed you as well. She was nervous, unlike Wednesday. Her lips were warm and soft. They also tasted like milk tea. Weems blinked a few times at this action. "W-well... this certainly complicated things..." she said as she looked at you. "I will... talk to your mother... see what she says about this...," She spoke before leaving. You were flustered and confused. The room was silent for a few seconds before Wednesday spoke. "I have him Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We share Sunday." "T-that works..." Enid mumbled. "The fuck just happened?" You ask as Wednesday rolls her eyes. "You just got two girlfriends."

#male reader #reader insert #wedensday x you #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday x reader #enid sinclair #king of the underworld hades #wednesday fluff #enid fluff #enid x reader #enid x male reader

[madwomansapologist]

Hello ! Could i have a the addams family where they are pinning over you , if that makes sence ?

Thank you , have a nice day!

Morticia and Gomez Addams being heels over head for you

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Gomez and Morticia Addams | AO3

synopsis: when it comes about passion, who's better than Morticia and Gomez Addams?

ps: thanks for your request my love! I was really sick last week, sorry making you wait. I think that this was what you were asking, if its not feel comfortable to request something else :)

• Your voice didn't stopped haunting them since they meet you. Your face was like a ghost, appearing whenever it would makes them the most weak. Your touch was cold on their skins like a corpse had find a way into their house. You we're like a witch who gets their soul with a love spell. They were enchanted by you

• You had their souls, so Morticia and Gomez make their goals to have yours. That is a game for three, you should know that before bewitching them

• Morticia would bring you to her garden. She would teach that Gomez has a rose allergy and would feel her heart going faster as you take a cissor and cut it yourself. Her goal was to know you, to spend time with you, but the way your hands move into the land — so gentle, so caring — was making hard for Morticia to not get distracted

• Gomez teach you how to duel. His chest would be against your back, holding your fingers to show you how to use the sword. Gomez did that not only to help you but also because he tought that this would make you shy, but he wasn't expecting to be the one who would get nervous. The smell of your hair, that sweet scent, make him forget his words, they way your skin was so soft against his: Gomez could live in this moment

• Morticia was surprised by how you make her lost her breath. She didn't have a smart thing to say because all she wanted to do was watch you. Gomez let you win. Anyone could say that he was only being nice to you, but Gomez just wanted to see your smile

• Morticia and Gomez knew: the last person that make them felt that way end up married. They want you. They need you. And they are not affraid of showing it. Being passionate was never a problem. And you deserve all the attencion they had

• Morticia and Gomez pay attention to every word you say. You would receive a present from them and realize that they remember your favorite color. You like a special school of art? Darling, prepare your walls because Gomez have news for you. Do you have troubles with something at your house? Morticia will help you even if you insist for her to stop

• They want you to understand what they feel for you and, more than that, to see them the same way they see you. Once you show signs that you may feel the same, darling, the actions will get bigger and the words will get louder

• Morticia would make you blush by calling you ma petitte. Her nails will drag down your skin everytime she gets the opportunity to walk past you. Morticia would show you how to use her lipstick, but don't be dumb and think she would only explain it: her hand will hold your chin in place while the red lipstick™ is against your soft lips

• Gomez's library is a place where you can usually be found. He would get you his favorite books and sometimes surprise you with the effect they can have. Mi pasiòn is something that don't leave his mouth when you are next to him. You haven't win another duel — yet, maybe — but the amount of fun you have is another level appart of everything you ever felt. If you ever stumble Gomez gonna hold you in his arms, against his warm body, and take you to a couch in a briddal style

• And don't get me started about how going out with both of them is. Only the best restaurants are open for you three. Gomez will cut the meet of your and Morticias plate. Morticia will make sure your glass is never empty. You see how her free hand is taking turns between Gomez's arm ir your pulse. Gomez leg touch yours, you may be not sure but you think it is proposital

• And the moment you got drunk by the love spell, they never, ever, going to make you regret that

• Morticia kiss you with the same hunger a vampire would. She does not taste you, she devour you. Morticia make you feel like your lips are make of the sweeter poison. You are the apple and she is Eve. Or maybe you are Eve and she is the devil making your head. You are sure that if Morticia was a sin you would go to hell with a smile

• Gomez does not have hurry to end what he start, he wants time to feel you. Your lips are made of nectar and all Gomez wants is to taste you. He don't touch you: he hold you. You are a delicate elixir, as precious as glass, and he would never let you felt less than that

• And feeling both of them is heaven. Is being truly and completely ready to die of happiness. Gomez's lips crossing your arm, Morticia teeths sinking on your neck, both of their hands finding a spot to hold you

• You are theirs, they were yours, and nothing would ever be more pleasurable than that. Not like you three aren't trying to find more and more and more pleasure together

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

#madwomansapologist #the addams family #gomez x morticia #morticia x gomez #morticia and gomez #gomez and morticia #gomez addams #gomez addams x you #gomez addams x reader #gomez addams x y/n #morticia addams #morticia addams imagine #morticia x you #morticiaandgomez #morticia x y/n #morticia x reader #morticia addams x y/n #morticia addams x you #morticia addams x reader #ask box

[the-broken-truth]

Wednesday Goes Enid Hunting [Part 4]

Wenclair - Slight Yandere Wednesday Addams (She falls victim to the Addams' Curse) - Takes Place After The Crackstone Incident

[Enid runs through the forest, jumping over overgrown tree roots and dodging large rocks and bushes so her clothes do get caught in the twigs. With her keen hearing, Enid can hear Wednesday closing in on her. Enid locks her teeth as she runs even faster before sliding to a stop and hiding behind a huge tree to catch her breath. Enid pants to calm her racing heart as the sound of footsteps closing in on her location stops suddenly.]

Wednesday (Looking around the forest for any sign of Enid - seeing nothing): You know I'm going to find you, Enid Sinclair; your fate was sealed the moment my curse chose you as my eternal partner. (Opens her gun and loads more darts) I have to admit, you are giving me a proper hunt; I couldn't ask for a better outing before the school season ends. (Closes the gun) Tell me, Cara Mia - do you know why I want to hunt you so badly? It's because your 'family' doesn't deserve you. They have disregarded your emotions and existence for too long and now that you have embraced the creature within you - on a Blood Moon, no less - they suddenly want to be in your good graces. They don't deserve you, Enid. They never have.

[Wednesday starts walking around - her raven eyes searching for any kind of movement with a smirk on her face as her finger hovers over the sensitive trigger of the gun.]

Wednesday: You are a very special person to me, il mio potente lupo. You are like a rare gem that only appears once in a blue moon - or in our case, every Blood Moon. From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew that you were meant to play a significant role in my life, but I tried to ignore it. Goody once told me that, as the Raven of the Addams Family, I was meant to be alone. However, when we had our argument and you chose to spend the night with Tanaka, something broke inside me, and for the first time, I realized that being alone was not enough. Then came the night when Crackstone was revived, and the Hyde tried to kill me. Despite everything I had done to hurt you, you never turned your back on me. You accepted me for who I am, with all my flaws and imperfections. And after we defeated our enemies, you held me close and gave me warmth and comfort. I can't let those unworthy people use you for their own gain, exploiting your power. Your power belongs to you, and you belong to me.

[Enid looked at the ground as she listens to Wednesday's Words - she could feel her heart beating faster when she heard the gun cock again and she dodged just in time for the dart to land in the trunk of the tree, causing the wolf to run again.]

Wednesday (Watching Enid run away with a smirk on her face): Run for me, Enid! Let me prove my worth to you! (Chases after Enid)

Broken Truth: Oh, before I forget. Translations:

Cara Mia - My Darling in Italian

il mio potente lupo - my powerful wolf in Italian

#wenclair #wednesday goes enid hunting #wednesday addams #enid sinclair

[nayialovecat]

The Ink Demonth 2023 - Day 29. Meat

Day 29. Meat Crossover: The Addams Family Finally, Bendy has the family he fully deserves and fits into! Joey Drew is so dead at the moment... :] The Addams family are one of the most supportive and helping each other families in pop culture!

I love The Addams Family! I'm a really big fan and so far there hasn't been a series that would discourage me (yes, I watched the latest animations, yes, they are embarrassing in places and don't fully capture the spirit of Addams, but they are not so tragically bad that I would suffer while watching them ). The only thing I haven't seen at least partially yet is theatre performance about The Addams Family. But they've been playing it since November at the Syrena Theater in Warsaw, so maybe I'll go there soon :)

Everyone has or has had some unrealistic patterns or models in their lives that they have tried to equal on. Whether it was the figure or appearance of a model or actress, the perfect boyfriend you want to meet from a TV show, or amazing skills in reality show... I had such an ideal - a perfect marriage. And it was Gomez and Morticia Addams. For me, they are the model of a perfect couple who complement each other perfectly and love each other, and are also really charming separately. Few people remember it, because newer productions have lost it, but in older series Morticia devoted herself to the hobby of growing dangerous and beautiful plants, such as carnivorous plants, poison ivy - and roses (because of the thorns; but she always cut off the flowers). She was also a painter and an excellent fencer (the only one to defeat Gomez in this field). And at the same time a loving and supportive mother and wife. At the same time - an icon of sexuality, charm and grace - simply an ideal woman and for me - an unsurpassed role model. I love her character - and that's why her presentation in these two parts of the newest animation hurts me the most, where they turned her into an anorexic skeleton with a domineering, uncompromising character. What happened to my sensitive and supportive Morticia, who likes to be tortured from time to time? Eh...

I also like Wednesday, Lurch (by the way, until I saw the spelling of his name, I was sure his name was Large), Thing, Fester... well, there's actually no character I don't like. Seriously, I'm a huge fan. So when it turned out that I no longer had room for any Addams-related entry, I was a bit sad. And then I said: hell no! I can eliminate Adventure Time (which pissed me off with the ending of the main plot of the series), move Cult of the Lamb in its place, and in ITS place present Morticia in her natural environment! Of course, feeding raw meat to her beloved Cleopatra. Ta-da!

Style of drawing characters was based primarily on the cartoon from 1992 (Hanna-Barbera studio), but I tried to give them a bit of my own style. If I wasn't pressed for time, I would probably colour this art entirely in shades of gray - but I only have one day left and about 1.5 pictures to colour, so... I'm giving it to you as it is - and I think it's great anyway.

Bendy and the Ink Machine (c) Joey Drew Studios Inc. The Addams Family (c) Charles Samuel Addams Sammy and the Ink Machine (c) Nayia Lovecat

#The Ink Demonth #Bendy and the Ink Machine #Sammy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #SATIM #The Addams Family #Bendy #Ink Bendy #Ink Demon #Morticia Addams #Wednesday Addams #Pugsley Addams #Cleopatra Addams #poor roses X'D #The Ink Demonth 2023 #crossover

[maryannecrimsworth]

Well... Wednesday can see him at a game that Nevermore is invited to cheer, and as she is fascinated by the violent game and even more in the quarterback, when the game is over she goes with Enid, Ajax and Eugene in the Weathervane and finds him without the helmet celebrating with his friends. Wednesday then begins to develop an obsession with the boy after following the sport and him in Jericho, she discovers that the boy is very popular in the city for being the son of the owner of the city bank and being a skilled quarterback, after starting to approach of him, Wednesday quickly considers his parasitic friends who don't deserve his time and call him to stupid parties and starts to get involved in everything he does (swimming, boxing with his father, cooking lessons...), except at school and at his home where Wednesday has access to cameras. He was already realizing that his friends didn't like Addams, but he didn't think it was that much, he changes his mind when he and his father travel to meet with a professional scout who wanted to meet him and didn't talk about it with Wednesday for be very sudden, and on his return on a rainy day the girl freaks out at him saying he was hers. The boy ends the friendship and leaves her talking to herself, little did he know that Wednesday wasn't kidding and continues to invade his life more aggressively, and makes a plan with Lurch and Thing to kidnap the player, taking him away from his friends and keeping him At Addams Mansion, Wednesday leaves all of Normie's technology in his house, just takes out his hidden cameras and bugs. Morticia, Gomez, Pugsley and Grandma are ecstatic about a new member of the family.

Não consegui mandar no privado, mas tá aí. Esqueci de traduzir tudo para português depois que você falou em português 😅

Seu desejo é uma ordem!

Part 2 / Part 3

Pairing: Yandere! Wednesday x Male football player! Reader

Request from @carlosgrimhildedevil101: if you're taking requests, I'd like you to make a Yandere! Wednesday Addams x male reader normie favorite football player in Jerico who is easily sociable but not naive and dumb.

Warnings: possessive behavior; toxic relationship; a bit of violence

You're an Addams

The band in your mouth was wet and frigid. The air you were trying so hard to breathe was thick, stinky, putrid. It was dark, cold, and your body trembled because of the terror ingrained in your spirit. The dread and chill that you knew only one person could cause. Only Addams.

"Welcome to the family, mi hijo," a deep voice disturbed your ears.

You tried to move, and the sound of swinging chains created a petulant chuckle among the room. 

You were trapped. Hungry. Wounded. The pain intensified as you tried to speak, and your tears fell to the cut on your face.

"How desperate." A melodious voice mumbled in the dark.

"Don't worry, Mother." Wednesday. "He'll surprise you."

You had no idea which had been the beginning of this.

X

You threw yourself into the throng of players in the center of the field. The screams of the players were drowned out by the booing of the fans, and countless pairs of elbows and fists hit your body as you made your way to the center of the crowd.

"Hey, hey!" you shouted, grabbing the first player in the yellow uniform you saw — your colleague was about to punch the defender of the rival team. "Are you crazy?" you pushed him away, pulling the yellow and purple teams, about to fight, apart with one rough motion. 

It was hard to force the running-back back to his side of the field: the boy was about to punch the opposing defender, and it wasn't the first time this had happened.

Even when the team was winning, someone always lost their head, and it was your job — the captain and quarterback — to prevent some player from going home with a black eye or a broken wrist.

Over time, you got good at it, and it only took a few words for the bickering boys to back off: "Weathervane, 5 minutes, on me." 

The game was already won — a few more defences and your team would already be celebrating. All it needed was five more minutes, and it would be over.

And in a blink of an eye, it was.

X

"Tell me again why they are fighting." Wednesday asked Enid, sitting next to her in the stands.

"The running back thinks it was a foul." Enid had to shout louder than the crowd to explain. "And the other team disagrees."

"Gracious." 

Wednesday's eyes glazed over with the premonition of a brawl in center field: after nearly an hour of watching the ball fly through the air as the young men bickered on the ground, one punch to start a riot between the teams would be the perfect ending to the match. 

The raucous commotion was already making its presence felt on the field when the audience began to boo — they should have been cheering, smiling just as Wednesday was, but, as usual, they didn't know how to appreciate what was appropriate. 

Until you came along.

Wednesday had noticed you before: the tall figure who set up the game like a maestro, throwing the ball and creating the plays that would lead your team to victory. The guide of the game, the strategist — the leader. 

It was clear from the way you moved that your actions were not as trivial as the others, but when, in a single thrust, you dismantled the mess in the center of the field, Wednesday understood. 

She understood why the crowd called out your name so loudly. 

She understood why you turned your head only to your players, and she understood why the muscles in your arm moved so clearly and distinctly from all the others. You were a ruler — and although you broke up the fight, she could see in your body how much you wanted to fight too.

Wednesday had to find out who was number "3" — who was you.

"That was...intense." Eugene stammered after opening the door of the cafeteria. "Nothing like what I expected."

"Total, dude." Ajax added, as dumbfounded as the other boy. "I didn't know bodies can bend like that!"

"I still can't believe you guys have never watched football before." Enid complained again. "And that wasn't even one of the great matches! Jericho has faced opponents far more challenging than this one."

Wednesday followed along behind them: her steady steps and silent figure scanning her surroundings while the rest of the group searched for a table at the Weathervane.  

The coffee shop was crowded: everyone went there to celebrate, including you. 

Addams noticed that the same arm that agilely distributed balls minutes ago was now raising a hot mug in a toast: the same features, the same mark left by the bracelet, the same muscles that now contracted much more softly. 

It was you, the number three.

"Wednesday?" Enid's voice didn't make her move her eyes from you. "Are you coming?" 

You moved away from the big group with difficulty: there were hands pulling you every which way, both female and male, but you made your way to the counter.

"No." she grunted to Enid and followed your steps.

"Please, ma'am, don't you dare." You smiled at a woman who surrounded you around the balcony. Leaning your body over to the attendant, you used your muscular figure to create a barrier between the staffer and the elder woman, with Wednesday standing slightly behind her. "Today is on me, the team deserves it."

"It's so noble that you're already working at such a young age, dear, but please." The woman insisted. "You saved my son from trouble again, let me pay."

"No, ma'am." Your smile was gentle, but your gaze was firm. "They are my friends, my team, I'll pay."

"But..." The lady looked away, her eyes full of concern reaching for her son. "He—"

"I'll keep an eye on him, don't worry." The staffer handed you back your card and you put your wallet away in your pocket. "Please go home, we'll be just fine." 

The woman raised her hand to caress your face.

"You're too good to be true, Y/N." And she finally stepped away from the counter, leaving you alone with Wednesday, further away, and the bartender, who was leaning toward you. He whispered something in your ear.

"Sure, sure." You replied, the gentle smile never leaving your lips. "Just give me a call." The barista, in fact, was a classmate: a classmate who needed help. And you were about to assure him that you would help him when a dark figure appeared in the corner of your eyes.

You finally turned to Wednesday, recognizing her presence;

"Hi." You smiled at her. "Can I help you?"

She turned her face to the barista immediately. "A quad." 

The worker walked away and you two were left alone.

"Interesting choice." You commented before sipping your own mug, the girl's intense eyes returning to you.  "I thought I was the only one who drank this around here."

"Few can take the bitterness."

"In general, few appreciate what should really be appreciated, don't they?" You raised an eyebrow in a mischievous expression.

"Always a philosopher, eh, Cap?" A boy pushed you against the balcony, breaking the gaze between you and Wednesday. "So deep and so dark!" He grabbed your arm and turned his face to the outcast in front of you. "Oh." He grunted. "The freak."

Wednesday remembered the boy: she had beaten him up in this very coffee shop, in Pilgrim World, and it was said that he was one of the boys who ruined the Rave’N dance with red paint. A brute, uncreative, and impulsive being. 

He could not be your friend.

"Stay away from her." He whispered before pulling you along. "Let's go."

"I'm coming later." you shifted and dodged until the boy steeped back. He cursed out loud while walking away from you and Wednesday.

Even with the smile still on your lips, there was a vein that surged in your neck: the invisible displeasure on your face. But it wasn’t invisible  for Wednesday: she saw how your eyes had changed after the boy had come closer — and how they sparkled again now that he was gone.  

In a silence that was visibly uncomfortable for you, but not for her, you scanned the cafeteria tables until you found the group accompanying her. 

It wasn't hard to recognize the outcasts, even without the Nevermore’s uniform.

Your eyes fell back to her as soon as her pale hands reached up to hold the cup lying on the counter beside you.

Before she could turn around, you asked:

"May I sit with you?"

She gave you a single nod.

X

It was an unusual friendship, your and Wednesday's. Unexpected — to others. 

To you, in fact, it was almost natural: Wednesday was an independent, quirky, brave being. You could talk to her about anything — literally anything — and she was a pleasant relief amidst all the high school drama. Homecoming king, team captain or not, the rumors and whispers that run through the high school hallways wear you down. You can deal with them, of course, but it was boring. Tedious. 

And, honestly, nothing was ever tedious in Nevermore: you found that out as soon as you sat next to Enid Sinclair and Ajax Petropolus. A female werewolf and a male type of Medusa who were also dating. They were flattered by your look of surprise and interest: all your questions were answered with great enthusiasm.

And there was Eugene. 

God, how you loved Eugene — a young beekeeper who could actually control his bees. How could anyone dare to raise a hand to him? You needed to talk to your teammates again.

And there was Wednesday. You weren't quite sure what she was — but she was very intelligent. You came away with five book and article recommendations every time you talked to her. It was fun, no matter what your colleagues from Jericho said.

They harassed, bullied and humiliated the students of Nevermore, the only difference was that Wednesday had stood up for herself. And she stood up for her friends.

Why were they so paranoid over her?

Well, it didn't matter. 

You kept meeting her.

You just didn't expect that she would be seeing you in an absolutely different way: you didn't know about the hand that snuck into your room every night, or the hidden cameras in every room of your house. Nor of the wire in your phone, or the shadow that accompanied you every time you left school with someone.

It was strange the accidents that started happening to your friends, but you blamed the slippery way back home. A grazed knee, a twisted ankle, a black eye — all could be caused by falling on the sidewalk. They were not caused by it, but you thought they were. 

After all, you had always slipped when reaching the first step of your driveway, and today was no different. You held on to the pillar, lifted your body to the door, and walked in with your shoes as damp as ever.

The grease that had accumulated on your hands and clothes only made your way to the bedroom more difficult: after spending the afternoon cooking, dirt had gotten under your fingernails, and the smell of a dirty kitchen had incorporated your clothes. 

You needed a shower and dry shoes, so that you could hide from the oncoming storm to Jericho.

Your hand was already holding the banister of the staircase to the second floor when your father's voice emerged from the living room.

"Y/N!" He came running up to you. "Change your clothes now, someone wants to see you."

"Who?"

"A university scout." Your father gasped, the blush of his cheeks increasing the intensity of his smile. "Come on, hurry up!" You ran to your room with a huge smile on your face.

X

You were gone. 

Wednesday couldn't find you anywhere: on the way to school, at Weathervane, at your work, at your house — she couldn't see you anywhere. 

Her cameras became useless, and your turned-off cell phone interrupted any transmission and location she could access. You were gone — and her body burned in a thousand hells as soon as she realized she couldn't find you.

With her mind overwhelmed by pulsations that even she failed to understand, the Addams made her way to your house. The heavy rain falling over the city didn't stop her footsteps from pounding against the concrete all the way to your room. 

She opened the back door of your house as she had done so many times before and walked up to your room: to your bed, to your smell, to where you should be. 

Wednesday took a deep breath after closing your bedroom door: your smell, a unique mix of sweat and parsley, mingled with the smell of rain, and the pain in her chest grew. Her mind imagined you beside her,  laying carefree in your bed — as you should be at this time of night – but you weren't there. 

You weren't there.

A sound came from downstairs and Wednesday rushed to the window immediately: it was almost two in the morning, and you were coming home now. 

Your father parked the car while you walked to the back garden. To the bench under the tree where you sat every time you needed to think. To where she liked to watch you the most, to see your features change as inaudible thoughts flashed through your mind.

You sat there with the biggest smile Wednesday had ever seen — as if you had done nothing wrong.

How could you be smiling like that?

"Where have you been?" Her voice cut through the stormy air like thunder, and you fell off the bench.

"Jesus Christ!" You stood up, trying to identify her figure among the darkness. "Wednesday, is that you?"

"Who else could it be?" Who else would see you at that time of night? The dumb cheerleader, the prom queen? Wednesday advanced towards you, her pale face shining with the raindrops all over her skin, reflecting the moonlight that shone brightly in the sky. "Where were you?"

"I-" You could see her eyes. They didn't look like hers — they were burning toward you, unmoving, totally fixed on you, utterly unlike anything you had ever seen. A shiver ran up your spine as Wednesday's breath touched your face. "Go back to school, it's late and–"

"TELL ME WHERE YOU WERE!" 

You stumbled backwards instantly.

"What's the matter with you?" you shouted back, fear and cold making you shiver. You were soaked, just like Wednesday, the early morning wind rattled your bones but none of it compared to what her gaze was doing to you. You could hear your own stomach turning in panic, "Wednesday, that's enough, go away."

"You left me." she roared. "You disappeared." you shook your head. "You did not tell me a single word."

"Hold on, I just had urgent matter and-"

"You're mine." Her voice resounded in your ears, shook your whole mind. "You cannot do anything like this, ever again."

"STOP!" you snapped, finally turning your back on her. "You've gone crazy! Get out of my house and—" Your voice was choked by a blow — a sudden pressure that ripped a sigh from your throat, interrupting your words.

There was a huge man in front of you: tall, pale, in a suit; he didn't even look alive.

"You are mine." Her voice sounded again in your mind as your vision became a blur. "You are an Addams."

@carlosgrimhildedevil101 @lucasm8 @dreifhraniquo29 @yasmimvarelattellat @hhavsjhs @decaffeinatedclodbagelweasel

@cursedchar (you like angst so...) @i984 (I WROTE THE REQUEST)

#wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday x male reader #yandere wednesday #wednesday fanfic #wednesday addams #the addams family

[rosetyler42]

In my opinion, the Hotel Transylvania films were underwhelming, cliché and too juvenile, they simply weren't for me. I didn't find the characters that interesting and so I didn't care about their relationships, the character I liked most was Ericka because of her potential as a goofy villain.

While I know it's a kid's movie, I dislike when vampires can opt out of drinking blood using blood substitutes. Its my opinion that vampires should be scary, and if they don't have to feed from living things then what's the point?

Do you like vampire-themed media in general, and do you like any mature vampire-media? I'm currently into Vampire: The masquerade which is an rpg taking place in a dark, gothic-punk version of the real world where supernatural beings live in secrecy.

I think they were good films, especially HT and HT3. They had alot of untapped potential I think. Transformania in particular did NOT measure up to what it could have been, and HT2 had it's problems too. But I liked the cartoony Addams Family approach and family dynamics. I wouldn't necessarily call them "Juvenile," particularly since there's a tendency to brush off animation - particularly cartoon animation, as being for kids and somehow not as valuable a medium. (You're also talking about something made by a person who was used to doing family cartoons like Dexter's Lab and Samurai Jack, and loved cartoony animation. So it's not surprising it takes a more family friendly spin on monsters.) Along with Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, it helped bring cartoony stylization back to modern animation, which it deserves respect for.

I'd say there's something for everybody in the films. Heartfelt moments, funny moments, angst, surpeising depth at times, even some adult humor. But they're definitely not for those that believe vampires should be scary or evil as the big point is the "Monsters are just like us" racism/discrimination allegory. Then again, particularly as a queer neurodivergent and someone brought up on films like Iron Giant, Monsters Inc, Megamind, Shrek etc. I've always liked films that humanize characters we're expected to hate and be scared of and show them in a different light. And I personally found the introduction of blood substitutes and animals as vampire food sources an interesting way of doing that. Particularly now I know how vampire mythos can intersect with blood libel and the HT Drac fam's jewish coding.

(Here's another read more:)

Now, I DO agree Ericka is one of the best characters, and has been at the center of my obsession. Not only is she a fun goofy villain, but she's genuinely an interesting, loveable character too with an interesting backstory who deserves FAR more love than she got. A beautiful mix of feral chaos and charming elegance, who can be just as nuts as the guys, and definitely not the norm for a woman character. Particularly a love interest. And like many in the fandom, I feel she would have made a BEAUTIFUL vampire. But characters like Johnny, Mavis, Dennis, Drac etc are also fun to watch and play with for me.

In terms of other vampire media, I actually have gotten into some of them, particularly with my recent HT obsession! Dracula Dead and Loving it is a recent watch I liked. It has the tongue-in-cheek humor of HT but being more like the book and other Dracula adaptations, it's darker and more adult. Rocky Horror Picture Show's vampire adjacent and is pretty fun, particularly the music. As is Little Shop of Horrors (both versions of the musical film AND the OG black and white one.) And I've been meaning to watch the Van Helsing film. I've also read Dracula Daily and plan to do so again this year. While not exactly SUPER mature depending on how you define that, I've also played some of the Monster Prom, Camp, Roadtrip series which includes vampire characters. Alot of my "horror" stuff tends to be more like Nightmare before Christmas, Ghostbusters, Monster House, Corpse Bride, Gremlins, Addams Family (both Live action films and the TV series, plus I plan to watch the animated film some point,) Blithe Spirit, Bendy and the like. More family friendly type stuff.

Coraline (and Laika in general,) Bendy, Poltergeist (OG), The Twilight Zone (OG and one of the new series') and sometimes Doctor Who are probably the most hard horror things I've really gotten into. I've kind of dipped into FNAF on occasion, Quite a few of my friends are into Undertale, and have meant to watch Supernatural as well. But never fully got to watching either of those.

#ericka van helsing #hotel transylvania #hotel transylvania 3 #vampires #vampire #vampire media #horror #horror media #animation #asks #ask #chinesegal #hotel transformania #hotel transylvania transformania #transformania

[libraryofgage]

Harlequin Prince (2)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One | Two (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One Queen ClarisseRenaldi One | Two

This part was line-jumped on Ko-Fi, which means y'all got it sooner than I originally planned!

If you want to line jump your favorite series, you can learn more here

Ironically, even tho the post says about a week of turn around, I get so excited that somebody wants to line jump that I just write it immediately lmao

Steve finally gets a good fight in this one, but it ends way too soon the poor boy. Either way, he also gets to meet some of the party!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

-------

Steve knew his dad wasn't in the picture, but he never knew why. He never asked, but he started to get this horrible feeling after a while. Harley Quinn's past was well known to Steve, her previous...associate and her relationship with him isn't exactly a secret, no matter how much his mother tried to keep them from him. She couldn't protect him at school, and she couldn't protect him from hearing people talking on the streets.

So, yeah, from the age of nine, Steve walked around with this horrendous knowledge in his gut, a knowledge that he wanted to think was just him being paranoid. But it wasn't. He knew it wasn't. He just couldn't admit that to himself, and he couldn't ask his mother because he didn't want to send her down that particular lane of memories. So it festered, and Steve pretended it didn't exist at all.

Until, that is, his 13th birthday. It was held at Uncle Bruce's mansion because his mother wanted to go all out. It was as much a celebration for her (a full three years without getting sent to Arkham!) as it was for him (managing to stay alive for 13 years in Gotham with Harley Quinn for a mother). Steve hadn't minded, either, especially when he saw the absolute joy she had when picking out the hugest bounce-house she could find with Uncle Bruce's sleek black credit card.

The party was catered by Steve's favorite Indian restaurant, the guests were limited to immediate friends and family, the bounce-house was extra bouncy, and a table was practically buckling under the weight of the gifts piled on top of it. It was, by far, Steve's best birthday, surpassing even the one he spent in Arkham after letting Poison Ivy out of her cell.

"Hey, Dumplin'!" his mother shouted, waving at him from the top of the bounce house she'd managed to climb. When Steve looked at her, she grinned even brighter and jumped, launching off turrets and rolling down sloped walls before landing on her feet on the ground. "Let's get to them presents!"

Steve laughed, looked at the table eagerly, and nodded. Her grin somehow getting wider, Harley turned, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, "GET YOUR ASSES IN GEAR, EVERYONE! STEVIE'S OPENIN' PRESENTS!"

Soon enough, Steve was standing in front of the table, surrounded by everyone, and not at all sure where to start with the mountain of presents. "You should open mine first," Jason said, grinning as he gestured to a bike-shaped package.

It was, in fact, a bike. A motorcycle, specifically, with a red and black helmet and the promise of lessons from Jason whenever he wanted. Steve loved it immediately and ignored Uncle Bruce muttering about driving laws and how Steve couldn't operate any motorized vehicle until he was fifteen. "Well," he said, "as long as I don't get caught by Batman, who's gonna know?"

That had earned him a laugh and his mother's hand ruffling his hair. "Go on, Dumplin', choose another."

Dick got him a literal outfit's worth of Wonder Woman merch, accessories included, that made Bruce look ready to pop a blood vessel. Tim gave him small tracking pins and a hacked handheld game console to watch the trackers with the promise of free upgrades anytime he wanted. Damien gave him daggers since he "wasn't good enough for real swords, but everyone should have a blade" on them, just in case. Cass, Steph, and Barbara pooled their skills together (and Alfred, they borrowed Alfred a lot) to make him an Unofficial Robin costume, complete with shorts only slightly less scandalous than Dick's original costume.

Bruce, when he finally stopped glaring at the three of them, gave Steve a fingerprint panic button shaped like a bat and easily attached to a key ring. "For emergencies, Steve," he said, "Just hold your thumb to it for three seconds."

"This is perfect for the next time we run out of ice cream," Steve said, grinning as he attached it to his key chain.

"Emergencies."

"Oh. So if we run out of mint chip, specifically. Got it."

Bruce merely sighed and let him return to opening gifts.

Alfred gave him a tin of homemade cookies that Steve immediately had to protect from the others. Poison Ivy gave him a Venus flytrap and the promise to help him grow it properly. Selina couldn't be there, but Bruce passed along her gift: a pair of goggles Bruce had handed over with a sigh and quiet request for him to use them responsibly.

Steve opened Duke's present last, eyes widening at the red leather jacket. "Wait, seriously?" he asked, holding it up as he looked at Duke.

"You're gonna be a troublemaker, Steve," Duke said. "Might as well make sure you're bulletproof for it."

Steve grinned wider and pulled on the jacket, swimming in the leather but eager to grow into it all the same.

There was nothing from his mother in the pile, but Steve figured the party itself was his present since she'd done all the planning. When she pulled him away to a secluded room in the manor after they'd all had cake, Steve realized it was just because she didn't want to share this moment with anyone.

She smiled at him, reaching up and gently tucking a few strands of hair behind Steve's ears. "You grew up so fast, Dumplin'," she said, sighing softly.

"Ivy says I'm like a weed."

"Ives is right," Harley said, nodding once before looking away. "Okay, ready for your present?"

"Wasn't the party my present?"

"No, no, Dumplin'. The party was for fun," she said, grinning as she reached behind her and pulled a comically-large mallet from seemingly nowhere. "This is your present."

Steve blinked, leaning over to look around Harley. "Where'd that even come from?" he asked.

"Jester Logic, Dumplin'. Don't worry about it. I'll teach you the trick later," she promised, holding the mallet out to Steve with an expectant expression.

When Steve took it, the weight threw him off. He frowned, shifted his grip, and suddenly had no problem holding it up. He took a closer look, noting the scratches and marks on the mallet and the faded paint. "This was yours," he said.

"Yeah, it was."

"I've never seen it before."

Harley sighed, tugging on one of her pigtails with a slight frown. "Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly a great person when I used it, Dumplin'. Tried to forget about that Harley and all," she explained.

"Then why give it to me?"

Harley looked back at Steve and smiled, reaching out to cup his cheek. "Cuz you're so much better than me," she said. "I think you'll do some great things, Dumplin', and maybe all the good you do will erase most of the bad this mallet's got."

Her words were so serious, her smile was so bittersweet, and she looked ready to cry and deny it. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to learning about her past straight from the source, a past he knew about it, a past that involved a certain person that haunts Steve's mind with terrifying potential. Suddenly, he had to know.

Steve didn't really think before blurting out, "Is the Joker my father?"

Harley froze, her shoulders tensing and her eyes widening as she stared at Steve. "You don't got a father, Dumplin'," she finally said, her voice quiet and her expression conflicted.

"Fine. Was he the sperm donor?"

With a sigh, Harley stepped closer and placed her hands on Steve's shoulders. "I won't lie," she said. "He is, but that don't mean a thing. His crazy ain't hereditary, Dumplin', and he's never gettin' anywhere near you."

"Does...does he know?" Steve whispered, "About me, I mean."

"It don't matter," Harley said, her voice firm and her eyes more serious than Steve had ever seen them. "I'll kill him before he gets near ya. Ives will kill him. Hell, Brucie wil---no, wait, he's got those pesky morals. Fine, Jason will kill him before he gets near ya. Actually, Jason'd kill him anyway, but the excuse will be good if Brucie scolds him for it."

Steve couldn't help laughing at that, feeling a little lighter when his mother smiled back at him. When his laughter trickled to nothing more than a smile, he asked, "Then, was I the reason you left?"

Harley nodded and gently tugged Steve into her arms, holding him to her and cradling the back of his head. "Yeah, you were," she said, her voice soft and soothing. "I was excited to tell 'im when I learned about you, but then I heard him talking to some goons. He was laughin' about running a kid over, breakin' their legs, and I realized...you wouldn't be special to him. You'd've been like his goons, all expendable and not even worth a glance. I couldn't put you through that, and I couldn't put me through it, either. So, I got us out the only way I knew how."

"By finding Uncle Bruce," Steve said.

He felt her nod. "By finding Brucie," she agreed. "He tried to deny bein' the Bat and all, but your mama ain't dumb, Dumplin'. I'd done my homework, and the butts matched. Once I explained it all, once I told him about you, he agreed to help."

Steve nodded, listening to his mother's heart beating against his ear. He glances down at the mallet again, tightens his grip, and takes a deep breath. "Thank you," he said, "for the gift and for telling me. I'll do good with it, I promise."

"That's my boy," Harley said, pulling back and ruffling his hair. "Now, lemme explain that Jester Logic to ya."

----------

Hawkins remains boring even after meeting Eddie. After all, Eddie's in high school (his second attempt at senior year, apparently), and Steve...isn't. He should be, probably, but there's no way he's stepping one foot in that suburban nightmare of a building. He can feel the normalcy, the utter boredom, oozing from the place, and he'd rather not subject himself to that.

So, he spends his day wandering around Hawkins, getting a feel for the little town until he could navigate the place blindfolded. He can do the same in Gotham, but it's more impressive there with the winding streets and sprawling sidewalks. Here, it's nothing special.

The most interesting part of his day is when he's sitting on the roof of a video store, one leg dangling over the edge with the other pulled to his chest so he can rest his arm on his knee. He's about halfway through a cigarette when a cop car pulls into the lot and a middle-aged man steps out.

He looks up at Steve, frowning as he calls up, "You shouldn't be there, son."

"I ain't your son," he calls back, grinning as he takes another drag and blows smoke out as the guy rests his hands on his belt. It reminds him so much of Gotham PD rookies trying to posture that Steve can't help laughing. "Is that supposed to intimidate me?"

"I'm serious, kid," the cop says, apparently ignoring Steve's question. "It's dangerous up there. If you don't come down, I'm gonna have to call the Fire Department to bring the ladder."

Steve sighs and puts his cigarette out on the roof. He gets up, stretches his arms above his head, and stands on the ledge of the roof. He grins at the cop, casually stepping into empty air and hearing the guy shout as he falls. He lands in a crouch on the awning over the door, swings to hang from it, and lands on his feet on the sidewalk.

It wasn't even much of a fall, but the cop looks like he's about to have a heart attack. Steve glances at the badge on his chest. "We done now, Officer Hopper?" he asks.

"Don't do that again," Hopper says, pointing a finger at Steve, "Or I will drag your ass to the station and call your parents."

Steve snorts, doing his best to hold his smile back. "I'll keep that in mind, sir," he says, giving a mocking two-finger salute before turning on his heels and walking down the street.

After a few blocks, he veers off into the forest, figuring he'll wander around the trees for a while before going to the Hideout to bother Bev and stare at Eddie and quietly pray someone else is gonna look for a fight.

Did he mention Hawkins is boring? Because it's fucking boring.

Steve sighs, kicking a stick as he shoves his hands into his jacket. He idly notes the forest is healthy. Sure, a few pieces of litter are strewn around, but it's not as bad as the parks in Gotham can get. Poison Ivy would find this place barely passable, which is hard to manage, and he's tempted to call her when he gets home to tell her about it.

He hums softly as he walks, enjoying the sounds of the forest until they just...stop.

The entire forest falls silent, which is weird; forests are too full of life to go silent. Even the bugs seem to have frozen in place, too scared to risk making a sound by moving. Steve stops, looking around him with a frown and trying to figure out what's caused this.

He gets the answer a second later when he hears a scream. The voice sounds young and cracks slightly, so it definitely belongs to a child. Despite himself, Steve can't help grinning as he takes off in the direction of the scream.

This is the most exciting thing to happen in the four weeks he's been stuck in Hawkins. As he runs through trees and easily jumps over bushes to take the shortest path, he makes guesses on what he'll find. Maybe Hawkins has a villain that's only now showing up. Maybe the town has a secret alligator or something that's decided to have a midday snack. Hell, maybe someone just decided to be a dick today.

He realizes every guess is wrong when he slides into a clearing to see a few kids (two boys, one girl) surrounded by some weird dog-looking...things. They have heads but no faces, crouched low to the ground and growling at the kids they've cornered. There's around ten of them, which would normally make Steve hesitate, but he's so desperate at this point for a real fight that he doesn't care.

Instead, he reaches over his shoulder, thinks about how fucking hilarious it's gonna be to jump out of nowhere with a giant mallet, and grips the handle as he swings it over his shoulder. "Hey, monster mutts!" he shouts, grinning when all the monsters and the kids finally notice him. "Let's play."

Pure, unfiltered joy rushes through him when the first monster-dog jumps at him. Steve's eyes are bright and his grin is positively feral as he swings the mallet and sends it flying into a tree. He roundhouse kicks another dog, using the momentum to bring his foot down on the head of a third before smashing its body with the mallet.

"Are you insane?!" one of the kids shouts.

"Certifiably!" he shouts back, watching as another monster-dog jumps at him. He waits for the perfect moment to back flip, bringing his feet under the dog to send it flying. He brings the mallet up as he lands, clocking another monster under the jaw. It yelps, crashing into another dog.

"Where'd this guy even come from?" the girl asks, turning to look at the boys with her.

"I don't know, but I'm happy to let him deal with the demodogs."

Oh. That's what they're called. Steve hums softly at the name, grinning as he twirls the mallet and swings with all his strength at one of the demodog. He rests the mallet on his shoulder like a baseball bat, watching the demodog arch in the air with an appreciative whistle. "Solid air," he says, nodding once before looking at the remaining demodogs.

There's only three, the others scattered in the clearing. He can't tell if they're dead or not, but he could always smash them to mush when he's done. Steve grins at the remaining dogs. "C'mon, then," he says, only to be filled with disappointment when they creep back, turn heel, and run.

"Damn, that's no fun," Steve says, sighing as he rests the mallet on the ground and leans on the handle. He looks at the kids. "You guys okay?"

The girl has orange hair pulled back into a messy braid. She's staring at him like he's got two heads but is kind of impressed by it. One of the boys has curly hair being smothered by his hat, and the other is wearing a basketball jersey. They're also staring at Steve like he's crazy. "Dude," the curly-haired one says, "that was awesome!"

"Where'd you get that mallet from?" the girl asks.

"Jester Logic," Steve explains, shrugging as he picks the mallet up and walks over. "Wanna hold it?"

When the girl lights up, he passes the mallet to her, snorting when she immediately staggers under its weight. "How do you hold this so easily?"

"Jester Logic. Again. It's funnier when other people find it heavy."

"That makes no sense," basketball jersey says.

"Who are you?" curly hair asks.

"Steve. Moved here recently. What about y'all?"

"Dustin," curly hair says.

"Lucas," basketball jersey says.

"Max," the girl says, her voice strained until Steve takes the mallet back, twirling it like it weighs nothing.

"Great. Nice to meet y'all. Now, what the fuck were those?"

"How much time you got?" Dustin asks.

Steve grins, thinking he's finally found something that can keep him entertained when he's not hanging around Eddie. "Plenty."

---------

Tag list (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@nectandra, @y4r3luv, @just-a-tiny-void,

#steddie #steddie fic #harlequin prince #steve deserves good parents actually #steve harrington #harley quinn #bruce wayne #jim hopper #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #dc comics crossover #wayne family adventures crossover #i kinda let the muse take over with this one actually #unhinged steve harrington #as he deserves #poison ivy #robins

[madnessandentropy]

Loosing my mind over the Wednesday fandom calling Gomez ugly and repeatedly saying "ugh they turned them into the hot wife and hubby who puts in zero effort trope ew"

Like please shut the fuck up

This iteration of Gomez is not ugly. I think he's pretty handsome actually, and a number of people agree.

Just because he's fat and not white (don't @ me whining about how no one mentioned race, racism IS a part of this even if it isn't blatant and in your face) does not mean he's ugly and Morticia doesn't deserve him

Fat does not equal ugly

Fat does not equal "putting no effort in". In fact that is an incredibly ableist and close-minded remark

You like to go on about how the Addams family is meant to be opposite of your typical family. Why can't Morticia love her husband as he is, the opposite of the typical beauty standard?

#wednesday #wednesday addams #the addams family #gomez and morticia #gomez addams #morticia addams #fatphobia

[mrsnancywheeler]

this is so off topic but watching the people who infantilize those with special needs say they would be a good mother for the eraserhead baby is driving me up the wall. they don't treat these people like people, they treat them like some sort of exhibit to baby and feel better about themselves for being kind. in their core people who do that see others with disabilities as less than, as a feature to prove some sort of moral goodness within themselves.

people are people, not exhibits, not pets, human beings who deserve respect. the eraserhead baby needs love, genuine, authentic love, to be cared for, to be raised. not to be an extension of someone parading around how benevolent they are because they care for something like "that"

I'm sorry but these people would not be good parents for the eraserhead baby and that's that. a child, a baby, an adult, they are not others no matter how they look or any disabilities they may have, extra support may be needed, but they should not be dehumanized to coo at for appearances sake because it makes you feel better.

the addams family would've cared for that baby the best and we all know it, so stop trying to prove your a good person through others struggles.

#wanda 💋 #eraserhead #eraserhead baby

[super-hero-confessions]

Wednesday was a very important show for me because of how it reflects female loneliness. There's also the fact that I'm a goth and a fan of the Addams Family from the 60s and the 90s, however the "loneliness in girls" aspect of the Wednesday show hit me like a truck.

It is known that men are lonely. I know this because when a man I don't know has approached me somewhere, as a woman my guard was up, and it wasn't the case with other women, we are more likely to trust other women. Men are expected to know how to put up with loneliness, while us women are expected to be more social and have a lot of friends. A woman without friends is seen as weird, while a lonely man is also seen as weird. (And I really don't like how a lot of people want to create a war between sexes - there are pros and cons to each gender). Loneliness as a female has been really hard for me, because I was aware of that social pressure, the idea that if a guy has no friends, "he doesn't need them", but if a girl has no friends, "there is something wrong with her". I mean, something was up with me, indeed. I am autistic but I was never diagnosed as a kid, and the fact that I am a goth also made people want to get away from me. Just because something was "wrong" with me (NO I don't think having autism is wrong, but going undiagnosed is because it can ruin your life) it doesn't mean I deserved to be so alone. Does any child deserve that? I don't think so.

Wednesday is not used to having friends so when people try to get close to her, she pushes them away, consciously or not. Because being alone is all she knows. But does she like being alone, or was she simply forced to get used to it? I can't answer that question for her, because I can't answer it for myself.

I didn't like how in this version, the Addams family don't get along. What made other versions of the Addams so great was that despite being weird, creepy and spooky, they were a supportive family. So yeah, they changed a key aspect of the family and I don't like that. But I still appreciate the show for representing the way I feel. It was an eye-opener, seeing how loneliness can make you push others away just so they can't push you away first. You very much develop a "well they'll leave me anyway so I might as well push them away now" mentality. I'm a young adult now and idk if it's too late for me to change this. Maybe it's not, but I am comfortable this way, like Wednesday is. It's comfortable even though it hurts, because it's what you are used to. Every time I've made a new friend, I've thought "it will work this time. Now I've found the right friends, they'll accept me like I accept them" and it's never the case.

To any Wednesdays like me out there, I hope you find your people, and if you don't, that's okay too. What makes Wednesday awesome is how emotionally independent she is, so don't blame yourself if you can't find friends. If you do find them, however, I hope you aren't disillusioned enough to shut them out. Take care.

#confession #rant #wednesday

[streaminn]

Okie, so I was in bed, totally about to turn off my phone in a few minutes and get them eepies, but then I made the mistake of opening up your Ortegaverse tag and doom-scrolled... oopsies

Anyway, while scrolling, I came across an old comment from our good friend @theogm-art from a few days ago. Unfortunately, I don't have a screenshot but basically, it was about Wednesday finding Enid with May and taking them back to the Addams Mansion. And of course, my brain took it as a challenge lol.

And so, blah blah my interpretation blah blah blah (forgive me, I'm tired lol)

"You live here?" Wednesday asked, trying not to sound disgusted. The apartment that Enid took the trio to wasn't too awful, but it certainly wasn't going in any magazines. The whole place was small and as far as Wednesday could tell, the was only one bedroom, definitely far too small for an entire family to live in.

"Yeah, it isn't a mansion but... it's home," Enid sighed before turning to her daughter, "Hey pup! Whataya want for lunch?"

"PB&J PWEASE! And in twiangles!" May shouted, making Enid chuckle fondly. Her daughter, just like Enid at seven, is still unable to pronounce her L's and R's. "Alright, pup! One PB&J in triangles, coming up!" Enid turned back to the raven standing dumbfounded by the front door, "You want anything, Wends? I don't have much, but I'm told I make a mean PB&J?"

Wednesday finds herself about to make some remark about the gluttonous nature of the sandwich, but quickly bites her tongue, "I suppose I stomach a single sandwich."

(idk, time skip 30 mins)

"Enid."

"Yeah? What's up Wends?"

"I couldn't help but notice, this apartment is incredibly small. I assume you aren't doing well financially?"

Enid sighs in response and instead looks to May, "Hey pup? Mama needs to talk with her friend, can you go play in our room?" May nods happily and runs off to their bedroom, leaving the adults alone. "No, I'm honestly just barely keeping up with the bills. It's surprisingly hard raising a seven-year-old all on your own," the wolf jokes, but receives no sign of humor from the other woman.

Instead, Wednesday's eyes widen in shock, "On your own?" The dark-haired woman stares in disbelief for another moment before finding her voice again, though lightly laced with anger, "Where is her other mother? Is she absentee?"

Enid laughs flatly, but her face quickly turns dark as the trauma from seven years ago returns with a vengeance, "No, she um... She's not with us anymore. She was a normie and... well," Enid doesn't finish her sentence but she doesn't need to, Wednesday quickly connects the dots.

"Oh, I am sorry for your loss..." Wednesday pauses before adding, "And I apologize for jumping to conclusions. I'm left to assume she was quite the attentive partner, seeing as she bore your child."

Enid snorted out a laugh, "Yeah... yeah, she was amazing." Enid fidgets helplessly with the ring adorning her left-hand finger. A silence settles over the room for a while. It's not tense, but it's not exactly comfortable either. Wednesday's mind churns through all the new information she's been given over the last hour.

Eventually, Wednesday breaks the silence, "Come back with me to the mansion."

"Wh- what? Why?"

"Your daughter deserves a safe and loving environment to grow up. And you too deserve the same, Enid. I must admit, I do not know much about taking care of a child, but I'm sure my parents would be honored to help you," Wednesday speaks plainly as if she isn't offering everything, "You'd be given a well-deserved break."

Enid, for her part, is left shocked. Finally, she picks her jaw back up from the floor to speak. "Wednesday," the wolf whispers in awe, "You'd really take me back there? After what I did?"

"Of course, Enid. As I said, I have already forgiven you. I..." An uneasiness overwhelms the raven as the need to offer vulnerability to Enid crashes over her, but she quickly powers through, "I searched for you everywhere. I never once stopped looking. I- I couldn't bear being so far away for so long, Enid."

Enid is once again taken aback. For so long, Enid thought herself to be unforgivable as the endless traumas and heartbreak throughout the last two decades tore her soul apart, time and again until all she was left with was broken memories and a little girl who relied on her for everything. But now, she's not only been so easily forgiven by one of the only people she's ever sought it from but she's also being given a second chance at life. It feels like another ploy by the universe. Surely, this is just another in a long line of tricks to lead her into that dreaded false sense of security.

But no. As Enid stares into those dark eyes, she sees nothing but truth. It's a breath of fresh air and Enid takes it in greedily. "Okay, I'll go with you. Thank you, Wends," Enid accepts, then speaks softly, "We really do work, don't we?"

And for the first time Enid's ever seen it, Wednesday smiles. Just barely, but it's there. "We shouldn't," the brunette replies, "But we do."

Okie, time to pass out lol

However Enid's face turns cold, a steel of ice in those blue eyes as her smile falls.

"but I won't accept charity."

Wednesday stares. "this isn't charity-"

Enid waves her hand in a no no gesture as she sighs. It's then that Wednesday begins to be too aware of the lines of stress that lines her past roommates face. There's eyebags lying under her eyes, not so noticeable when she's smiling but all too seen when not.

"it is to me," Enid says before she gives a smile, shaky and not as true. It looks like a compromise. "so please let me help out around the house."

Wednesday swallow the No that was so ready to spill from her lips. She grits back the words of you deserve so much more, deserve to be pampered and cared for.

Wednesday nods and she stares at the way Enid smiles, her finger playing with the ring on her hand.

#Writing #Rachelsfavqueer #Enid x Wednesday #Ortegaverse #AAAAAA WE GOT SO MUCH TALENTED AND SKILLED PEOPLE HOLY SHIT #THANKS RACHEL!!!!

[ghouljams]

You mentioned that all your relationships (written ones) have some aspect of Gomez and Morticia - which isnt too much of a stretch actually, I can see it

So it is my duty to tell you (as an avid fan of the musical) that there exists an Addams Family Musical

Wednesday is older and engaged to a normal boy (I don't get their obsession with putting her with normal boys but it's cute)

Her parents don't know she's engaged and are unhappy with her getting more cheerful because of it (in a deranged way still, it's not a "he loves her enough to change her" kinda thing) - which is def out of character but whatever

They are concerned about her and Morticia refuses Gomez' advances bc of her worry

And Gomez gets a whole song titled "Morticia" where he sings about he she is all his dreams and nightmares and he hopes to die by her hand etc.

And there's a verse that goes

"She must be feeling blue,

I don't know what to do,

Except perhaps it's true,

I must!

I cant

I will!

You think?

I shall!

I'll end my liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiife!"

So his solution to his wife being upset with him is to kill himself

You can find the songs on Spotify and the filmed musical on YouTube but idk I think the story fits Price and Duck and Ghost and Goose (as Gomez and Morticia and what's his name and Wednesday)

There's also one of my fave EVER musical songs "Happy/Sad" which could fit Price and Goose or Duck and Goose having a heart to heart

I know of the Addams family musical! I also don't understand the obsession with trying to put Wednesday with "normal" people.

But yeah it does sort of fit the Price/Duck and Ghost/Goose dynamic. I don't think Price would go as far as contemplating suicide because Duck is mad at him, but I do think he'd have a mild overreaction. Price is kinda mad Ghost is a lot like him in the way he loves Goose(shockingly similar to Price and Duck's relationship), but he also knows that means Ghost would go to the end of the earth for Goose.

Goose and Price's relationship is really interesting in this fic. Goose worries over Price's approval, because she's never not had it. It's sort of jarring for her to be on the other side of his anger when he catches her and Ghost. Price on the other hand just wants what's best for his kid, and shockingly doesn't initially think getting into a relationship with an emotionally unavailable war criminal is gonna be that.

HOWEVER, some of y'all think Price stays mad about their relationship. I get a lot of asks for Price blowing up about the proposal and even the prospect of goslings. But oh my god, family man Price? He's so thrilled to be a grandad, and so happy Goose found someone that loves her like she deserves. Big time "Happy/Sad" vibes. I'm having to write a heart to heart conversation for both him and Goose, and him and Ghost about the whole situation.

#ghoul speaks #Ghost and Price having the world's most awkward conversation #about how Ghost is definitely not scared of Price #and how he's going to marry Goose whether he approves or not #but please approve please god approve he really needs this #I listened to both songs and then the soundtrack :) #i am not a big musical person but i very much enjoyed it #I gotta write more Price and Duck