My Requests Are Open! A Rewrite Of A Previous Fic On My Ao3. Enjoy!

My requests are open! 🖤 A rewrite of a previous fic on my ao3. Enjoy!

Wednesday was appalled by herself. To have such terrible taste.

...She couldn't pull her eyes away from a stupid, tacky lava lamp. The colors (stupid neon green, such a terrible color) swirled in an amazingly satisfying way, bending and twisting in ways that Wednesday couldn't pull her eyes away from. Usually, certain lights would cause her pain. But she found that this light (a very stupid outdated one for that matter) was calming for her. Muscles that she didn't know we're tense relaxed at watching it. Until she was pulled out of her thoughts

"Wednesday?" Enid hummed.

"Are you looking at the lava lamp?" Her tone was not accusatory, but Wednesday felt that way anyway. She swiftly turned her back to Enid, feeling her eyes wide. "No." She said, beginning to walk away from it. She heard Enid running to catch up, and she slowed down to let her. Enid caught up and giggled, shifting her bag to her right shoulder. With no reason at all, Wednesday moved her bag and held it with her left hand. Just because, of course. There wasn't a real reason to. Enid's hand brushed against Wednesdays. It had taken Wednesday time, but she didn't even flinch at the touch. She had always pulled away from affectionate, ”social” touch. She found it uncomfortable and useless. But Wednesday got used to Enid. Slowly, she began to actually touch Enid. Only little things. A guide by the shoulders. A playful kick in the shin. A tug on newly dyed hair. Wednesday was sure that Enid was the only person who was allowed to touch her back. Her touches were... Gentler, to put it out there honestly. Softer. If Wednesday was being honest, those were the touches she was afraid of the most. She had never really been one for it. Her Mother had even mentioned that as a baby, she would prefer to not be held at all, not even by her mother's careful, pale hands.

Wednesday could recall several times she had been bothered by soft touches. The tags on the back of her clothes. The wisp of fingers on her arm. Someone touching her hair. Each one left a burning, hives like feeling on her. She immediately would feel the urge to jump, and scratch at the offended area. How people could be OK with, or even enjoy those touches always confused Wednesday. Often times, she would wake up to red marks on her in the mornings. She had a habit of scratching herself even in her sleep, even now.

But with Enid, it was different. Enid understood when Wednesday didn't want to do something. Not only hugging or touch, she noticed many things she didn't want to do. Once, Wednesday remembered, she had been invited to a party by Yoko. She instantly froze up, feeling her throat go tight and dry, her mind spinning at the prospect. Kids her own age, huddled in a tight space, probably with alcohol, probably with music. The thought was horrific. She could feel it now. But Enid saved her. She quickly coughed extremely loudly, and said in a tone that deserved a Grammy, probably -- "Sorry, but um. We can't. I'm real sick, and we don't want to get you sick too." Yoko looked to Wednesday to confirm it. Wednesday felt a chill go down her back at having to look at her sunglasses, without any kind of cue in her eyes to see how she might be feeling. But she managed to let out a tiny cough. And that was enough. She had made sure to thoroughly thank Enid for that. And Enid only smiled. She didn't expect anything.

That didn't prevent a jelly donut appearing by her bed, though. Wednesdays way of saying thank you.

It was so much better to communicate with actions rather than words. So, Wednesday said something with her hands. She reached out, and grasped Enid's hand. Enid stopped dead in her tracks, looking down to look at Wednesday. Wednesday didn't feel the pressure of keeping eye contact with her, but she did. Only because her eyes were so beautiful. "We're about to cross" she said, turning to hit the crosswalk button. She gazed forward, acting uncaring in her typical fashion. But in the corner of her eye, Enid grinned. She held her hand firmly. Wednesday bit her cheek, but the corner of her mouth tilted upwards anyway, ready to continue the day.

Wednesday awoke as she usually did, her eyes opening with no sign of her actually being alive, and sat up. As she shifted, she realized she had refrained from scratching herself in her sleep. But then she jumped at a new, fluorescent sight. A lava lamp on her desk. To be exact, the one she had caught herself looking at the other day. Wednesday's lips twitched briefly, her joy unmatched by anything. She had to return the favor. She quickly began to get ready, throwing on her weekend clothes to go out into town. "Wenny?"

"Where are you going?" Enid murmured, beginning to shift in her bed, tiredly lifting her head from her pillow. "The bakery." Wednesday said. She swallowed. But barely hesitated. Why would she, with Enid? "Would you like to join me?" She asked, fingering the strap of her leather bag. Such a nice, smooth leather. It was a pleasing texture. Enid nodded with a hum, getting up with a stretch that cracked her back. "I'll give you 5 minutes" Wednesday said kindly. "15?" Mumbled Enid, who sat on her vanity, looking sleepily at her makeup.

Wednesday compromised with 10. In 9 minutes and 38 seconds later, Enid was ready. Wednesday appreciated the punctuality. Right before they left, Wednesday reached out. Enid looked shocked, but quickly grasped her hand with her bigger one. They walked out. "What are we getting?" Enid asked. We. Together. It made Wednesday flutter her free fingers happily. She felt no need to hold back her happy stimming with Enid, even in public, a habit that had been forced out of her. " jelly donuts" Wednesday saw Enid smile out of the corner of her eye. "I knew that was you" she giggled. Wednesday glanced at Enid briefly, but had no words. She was. Happy.

Flowers

Enid's favorite flowers were roses.

They were classic. Sweet, romantic, and simple. She never had gotten roses before, no matter how many times she had not so subtlety hinted to Ajax that she wanted some. So she had no idea why they were on her bed.

Tied together with a neat black ribbon, they leaned against the pillows of her bed (which was freshly made by the way, something she definitely didn't do). Enid picked the flowers up, but hissed and dropped them as the thornes in the stems poked her. One had only slightly pricked her, but just as a precaution she slid her sleeves over her hands and tossed them on her vanity as she took a tissue and dabbed at the minor cut on her fingertips.

“Wednesday? Do you know who dropped these flowers off?” Enid muttered, still tending to the cuts on her fingers.

“No.” Said Wednesday.

Enid let her gaze linger on the flowers, and even though she was still disappointed by Wednesdays answer, she felt her mouth slip into a smile from the kind gesture. Enid walked over to Wednesdays side of the room and jumped into her bed without permission, wrinkling Wednesday's black covers. Enid noticed the ways Wednesdays nose twitched in annoyance at it, but her eyes remained glued to her pages she was proof reading and editing in red marker. “It was kind of sweet someone got me flowers, don't you think?” Enid asked, feeling a bubble of warmth blossom in her chest.

“No. They're probably a homicidal maniac” Said Wednesday, in typical Wednesday fashion. Enid felt her face sink into a frown. “Well, I think it was” she muttered, hopping of Wednesdays bed and going to her side of the room, her mood soured from her roommate.

The next bouquet of flowers were bigger. They were just as red- if not redder, and the thorns were neatly snipped off of the stem. Her old bouquet was starting to wilt, and Wednesday seemingly found it the best time to steal them and snip off the rose buds, happily displaying the dying stems in a vase of her own. But Enid had more, so she didn't care. And with the flowers came a note. She flipped it open, revealing something much better than the spiral notebook paper that she had expected. It was a folded card that looked nearly perfectly symmetrical, with elegant red cursive on it.

I noticed the cuts on your fingers. It'll never happen again.

And signing the note, with a flourish we're the words… Secret Admirer .

Enid actually screamed out loud at the words, beginning to spin around joyously. Wednesday groaned quietly. “Enid, what are you doing?” She muttered, only just giving Enid the time of day by turning slightly away from her typewriter. “I have a secret admirer!” Enid exclaimed, throwing herself into a pile of her stuffed animals. She popped her head out of the pile and felt the smile on her face nearly split her cheeks with how big it was. "Oh my gosh, the person getting me flowers likes me!" She cried out, nuzzling her nose into her favorite squishamllow. "I mean, they signed a note with secret admirer!" She revealed, waiting for Wednesdays reaction.

Wednesday held eye contact for maybe a few seconds.

“Well, I'm glad” Wednesday mumbled, in a voice uncharacteristically soft for her. Then she turned right back to her typewriter and kept on writing as if there was nothing better in existence. Enid snuggled further into her pile, grinning at the bouquet on her bed and the note.

Enid frowned at her flowers, gently reaching her thumb out to touch a browning petal. Wednesday set down her book against her chest, turning to look at Enid from her bed. “What are you frowning about?” She said, in an almost annoyed tone. “my flowers are dying,” said Enid, trying to turn the case and see if any flower was still as red as they were when she first got them. They were all browning.

“They're just flowers,” Wednesday grumbled, her braids splaying across her single pillow as her head shifted. “I like them!” Enid snapped, feeling anger deep into the crevices of her stomach and feeding a hunger of emotions. “I think it's really nice.” Enid immediately felt guilty after she snapped, but she didn't say anything about it. It's not like it was her fault. “Isn't it strange that this person knows where you sleep?” Wednesday inquired. Enid blinked owlishly. “Do you know who it is?” She asked, turning to Wednesday. Wednesday immediately buried her nose in her book once more, even though it was upside down. “No.” She said, but Enid knew she was lying. “Well then, it must be one of my friends!” Enid declared, beginning to finger through her hair in curiosity, a nervous habit she never got rid of. Enid's brain began to piece all she knew together, and then it clicked. Enid ran over to the card on her desk, and opened it once more. “I'll just see who's handwriting matches who's!” Enid quickly turned her head at the sharp intake of breath Wednesday sounded. “What? Do you know who it is?” Enid piped, knowing Wednesday would deny it again. “I have no idea what fool would even consider sending flowers to someone they care for. The only person I know foolish enough to do it is my own Mother,” Wednesday mutters, abandoning her book to instead climb out colorful window of their room. Seemed like Enid struck a nerve.

“Enid!” Bianca chimed. Enid quickly turned to her and all but short of ran to her, the both of them quietly squeezing into one of the schools many dead end alleys. “Did you figure it out?” Enid said in a hushed tone, practically vibrating with how excited she was. “Yes,’’Bianca breathed out, silently handing over a piece of paper. Enid took her card out of her skirt pocket with only a slightly clumsy fumble before unfolding the lined paper she was given, comparing the two handwriting. Both were messy cursive, and Enid instantly knew it was the same person. They even dotted their I's with a skull, it was adorable! “Yes!” She hissed, excitedly. She would be moments away from confronting them with their declarations of love! “They're an exact match. Who is it?” She cooed, wiggling on the soles of her feet as she looked up at Bianca. Bianca swallowed, eyes flickering from the paper to Enid. “It's Wednesday.”

“Wednesday!”

Enid screamed, slamming open the door of her dorm room. Wednesday entered through the window, her face looking a bit softer than it usually was. She must've been practicing. Enid could smell the wind on her. “What?” She said, but Enid could barely let her finish. “It was you?!” She choked out, shoving the piece of paper Bianca had given her in Wednesdays hands. “.. If you're saying I wrote these notes, then yes, it was me.” Enid shook her head, not caring about the tears wetting her face and neck. She was probably imagining the way Wednesdays eyes followed them. “No!” She said in between her quickening breaths. “I didn't think so.” Wednesday hummed, folding her note paper quietly and setting it down on her desk. “Did you do it to make fun of me, or to see how long I'd fall for it?” Enid shrieked, with a voice eerily similar to her Mother's.

“Neither” whispered Wednesday, turning her back on Enid. Somehow, that hurt more than when Wednesday looked at her. Enid felt her chest rise and fall in a pace much too quick, mirroring her palpitating heart. “Why?” sobbed out Enid, hunching over in a desperate attempt to catch her breath. Her heart aches in the sense of betrayal, feeling her pulse only quicken under the response of Wednesday.

“I did it because I have feelings for you.”

..

...

.......

Wednesday couldn't sleep again. While many times when she could not sleep she would play her cello, she thought better than to do that. She awoke to a not so quiet shifting coming from Enid's side of the room, making her stir. She rose into a sitting position as she uncrossed her arms, rubbing her eyes. As they adjusted to the Darkness, Wednesday gasped at a new addition on her desk. Carefully, she approached it. She didn't want to set off another sudden motion detected bomb that Pugsley could have sent her. Oh, but it wasn't a bomb at all.

Roses. And in the moonlight, she could clearly see their color.

Black.

Wednesday turned in disbelief, knowing there was only one person who could have done it. She met Enid's eyes. Enid smiled in a feeble, wobbly manner, and Wednesday felt herself lift from her bent position over her desk as though she was light as air. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly, and when she spoke, there was a stark contrast to her usually monotonous voice. “I'm a fool for you as my Mother is to my Father” she admitted. And she only hesitated for a second before she ran into Enid's arms.

the spark in her eyes

Enid didn't like Wednesday at first. She was blunt, stubborn, single minded, and had a personal thing against Taylor Swift. But for some reason, Enid got used to her. She got used to the little things Wednesday did, the small parts of her routine. Enid didn't like change at all, so when she came back to the dorm for classes to see that Wednesday wasn't there, she began to grow worried. It's fine, she told herself. Wednesdays probably just out looking for that 'monster' in the woods....But it has been storming for hours, the exact reason why Enid had called off on painting her team canoe. But it wouldn't be entirely unlike Wednesday to go hunt for monsters in the rain. Enid told herself she didn't care. But she did however, miss the rhythm of a typewriter that night. When Wednesday came home, she barely even looked up.

Enid had woken up countless times to the cello. What made this time different, she didn't know. But she didn't groan and cover her ears with her pillow like she usually wood. It could've been the fact that it was a full moon. But instead of the usual earplugs that came with Wednesdays late night sopranos, instead she climbed out from her bed and went to see. Wednesdays fingers moved with a fast clockwork that Enid never had and never would have. Wednesday didn't even acknowledge her presence as she climbed out the spinning window. All she did was keep playing, her eyes reading the music notes inexplicably fast as her bow followed. It was actually quite lovely, what she was playing. And for some reason, Enid's eyes went from the cello bow to Wednesdays face. She trailed the curve of her cheeks with her eyes. What she had assumed was a gaunt feature to her physique was really just a sharp jaw. She counted her freckles. But what enamored her was her eyes. Large and dark, Enid saw something in them she never saw before. A spark. She could tell that in Wednesday, she loved to play the cello. The thought shocked her. She thought Wednesday played it only to show off, not out of devotion. But just by looking at her, you could tell, she was in love. Enid loudly went back to bed. She never wanted to think of the word love and Wednesday Addams together, ever again.

...Enid had found herself looking for the spark in Wednesday's eyes. She had began sprouting a friendship with her, and what better opportunity? When in Rome. Not like she'd ever admit she was always searching Wednesdays eyes for some abstract concept of a "spark".

...

But if she would ever admit ot, she'd make note that the spark appeared more often than she expected. Usually, Wednesdays eyes were drowning in either boredom or malice, the two emotions Enid easily saw on the surface. But beneath, it was there more often than not. It appeared in her eyes when she wrote. When she played the cello. It appeared when she made a witty quip to Bianca. It came when Enid gave her positive feedback about her story. And it was beautiful. In a weird, goth kinda way. Not just a beautiful situation. It was like how a beetle would be beautiful. Only beautiful because it was weird.

The spark was there much more often, in the worst way. Enid had hoped, a little bit. For some reason she had hoped for a stupid, delusional dream. That maybe one day Wednesday would look at her with a spark. Maybe she did, even. Maybe she could look at her and find the love of a good friend. But that wasn't what Enid wanted...

Enid wanted the love of something more. And someone else got that look. Xavier. How could Enid have been so blind? They were so good together. Resident sad loner artist with the resident genius goth musician. It hurt how well they seemed to be for each other. Enid hadn't even meant to stumble upon them. She just did. It was well after club time, but Enid found herself wondering. And she wondered right into them. They didn't notice her, of course. Why would they notice her? They were too busy looking at each other. Enid zoned in on Wednesdays eyes like she often found herself doing. The spark. Just as bright as when she played the cello, but different. Not the love she had for the cello, or her writing, or from winning an argument. A different love. Enid knew what love it was. How could Enid possibly get in the way of that? She couldn't of course. And what sealed the deal of how she would never do anything was the way Wednesday smiled. Her smile was perfect. Gentle, with one corner pushed up more than the other. Perfect. Enid quietly turned the corner, and disappeared. It felt like the interaction lasted for hours, though it couldn't have even been a minute. Wednesday and Xavier hadn't even talked to each other, they just looked. Maybe they were talking right now. Maybe hugging. Maybe kissing. That stopped Enid right in her tracks. She wanted that.

She wanted to see the spark in Wednesdays eyes when she looked at Xavier, to be directed at her. She wanted to hug Wednesday. She wanted to kiss Wednesday. She especially wanted to kiss Wednesday. But it was a dream. someone as delusional as herself would have. It would never happen, and how could she even expect it to? Enid didn't want to take away the spark in Wednesdays eyes, not even the one she wanted the most. She could only dream.

Me writing

reblog this if you’re jewish or your blog is a safe space for jewish people

in light of recent events as well as a new rise in creating nazi ocs I think this post is an important one to have on your blog if you stand behind your jewish followers or are jewish yourself.

Whenever I see you, I want to throw up (Wenclair one shot)

another edited fic from my ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonshiiinee

Requests are open! 🖤

Wednesday hated Enid. She hated the way she smiled. The way she laughed. And especially she hated how colorful she was. Colorfully annoying (oh, she needed to write that down, she would use that later). Wednesday felt such a deep hate for her, that every time she even saw Enid, her belly felt a deep swoop, as if she was on a falling roller coaster. Except there was absolutely no thrill. She was dying to get rid of her hate, and at least turn it to bitter resentment. She just couldn't stand her reactions around Enid, and she needed to do something about it, for it was becoming embarrassing. Bianca had even pointed out that her face became red with anger around Enid, something she tried to fix with makeup (tried). Although Wednesday knew what the problem was, she had no idea what to do to fix it. She had considered bothering her uncle fester for help, but unfortunately he was busy in Puerto Rico, so she settled for the next best thing. Tyler.

Tyler was a teenage male, so Wednesday was relatively confident he would be able to help her. She obviously was not going to ask Thing, who would definitely blab to her parents about her rivalry. "Let's say I had feelings for someone" Wednesday started when he sat down her quad, cutting to the chase. "Oh-- Oh?" Tyler uttered. Wednesday made no effort to respond just yet, instead dipping her spoon into her drink and pulling it out, hovering her fingers close to the metal to gauge how hot it was. Too hot.

...

......

"And let's say, these feelings are making it near impossible for me to focus on anything" continued Wednesday, completely disregarding the red face of Tyler and instead blowing on her quad delicately, stirring it to cool it down. The foam resembled a skull, which calmed Wednesdays nerves on the thought of her blonde roommate. "And. Theoretically. Let's assume that I need help with these feelings. What should I do?" Wednesday inquired, swishing around her coffee. Tyler leaned on her table, pressing his arm against Wednesdays. Wednesday pulled away and brushed it off like she was picking up her cup. "Well" said Tyler with a chuckle. "I would tell this person how I feel" Wednesday nodded. Finally. A clear, simple answer. Suddenly it all made sense. "Perfect. Thank you." Wednesday replied, getting up from her seat and walking straight out of the shop. She hadn't realized that Tyler had called after her, or that she had left her cup behind.

"Enid"

Enid looked up from her computer, and again, came the swooshing sound of her heart dropping into her stomach. Oh, she hated her.. Wednesday felt a knife drag down her throat, ticking her voice. She could barely even start, but once she managed to find her dead voice, she couldn't stop. "Enid, whenever I see your hideous fashion choices, I want to rip my eyeballs out because of how much stupid highlighter pinks you wear. Whenever I see you, I want to throw up." and it felt amazing to get it out. "Enid, whenever I see you, I feel a hate so deep and disgusting that it takes all I can to not bash my head into the nearest object" Wednesday took three long steps closer to Enid, stepping over the tape she had set. "Whenever I see you, my heart goes into my belly and I can barely speak. My head spins and my face feels like it's on fire, and I am disgusted at such an affect you have on me that I wish to cut you out of my life, which I somehow can't find it in myself to do." That sounded much too sentimental, but Wednesday could barely filter her words with how fast she was speaking, or even realize the slight shakiness coming into her voice. "Unfortunately, I have come to enjoy your senseless, confusing blog. And your stupid makeup. And even your disgusting colorful wardrobe!" and then it all clicked. And Wednesday realized. So she just said it. "Enid, I have feelings for you" Enid's jaw dropped, and Wednesday actually felt her cheeks heat up again at the little smile forming on Enids face. "Oh" she breathed out, feeling such a strange feeling bubble in her chest. A good feeling that she couldn't possibly explain. Enid hesitantly reached out, offering her hand. Wednesday hesitated as well. When Enid began to withdraw her hand, she quickly shot out and grabbed Enids wrist, interlacing their fingers in a particularly rough fashion. There were no words. But when Enids claws came out, Wednesday marveled. Enid giggled. And Wednesday knew everything would turn out fine.