the shakespeare exhibit â
‷ part 2
‷ drabble 1
‷ part 3
‷ part 4
‷ part 5
‷ part 6 (smut, 18+)
‷ drabble 2
‷ part 7
‷ drabble 3
‷ part 8
‷ drabble 4
‷ part 9
‷ drabble 5
the time has come for me to make this announcement. i've been avoiding actually writing this, but it's time to give y'all an explanation.
i've been mulling over this idea for weeks now, and i've since made the decision to retire (why do i sound like an old man?). i know i've said time and time again that i would be back to posting regularly, because i truly believed i would be, but i've honestly lost all motivation in regards to writing fics. what once used to be fun for me has turned into something i barely look at, and i do mourn that fact.
i'm sorry to my scholars who were looking forward to part 10 of the shakespeare exhibit, but if we're being honest, that fic is so fluffy there never would have been a set end. i feel happy with leaving it where it stands now as an ending.
this blog will still be up. it'll probably always be up. i want you guys to still be able to have a space to indulge, and i couldn't imagine taking this away from you.
i really am sorry about this. i am so appreciative for all the love i've garnered and the fanbase that has formed around me. i love each and every one of you.
thank you for being around while i was, and for being around after i stop posting.
Summary: Mabel gets back from an intense day at work, and seeks comfort from her girlfriend.
Word Count: 800+
A/N: Iâm back babies
Look, dating someone in the Boston crime gang was never on your bucket list. Sure, youâve read your fair share of enemies to lovers mafia fan fiction, but youâd never expect it to actually happen.
You were always a good kid, steered away from drugs and sketchy stoners. But Mabel, Mabel.
She was the most beautiful girl youâd ever laid eyes on. Tan skin and messy hair, it was never an option not to fall in love with her.
But in your defense, Mabel was nothing like the rest of them. She was kind, the most thoughtful soul you know, and inspiring in all aspects of her life.
She was put in a tricky situation since childhood, but she always made the most out of it and always strived to get out.
You knew she could be cold. Some of her friends referred to her as âMabel Black Labelâ, but her cut-throat personality disappeared whenever she was with you. It was like she turned into this nicer, more exciting, wondrous person. Or at least, thatâs how she felt.
So, when she didnât come to see you as sheâd promised, you knew something was wrong.
She had mentioned earlier that she was doing a big deal that night, and that she was going to come get you for your date right after.
By the time she called you, a little after midnight that exact night, youâd practically jumped up at the sight of her name across your phone.
Anxiety stirred deep within you.
You bit your nail as you answered the phone.
âHey babeâŠâ Her voice exhaled, shaky like sheâd just run a mile and immediately called you.
âBaby? Where have you been? Are you alright?â You breathed, question after question tumbling out before she even had the chance to answer.
âDonât be madâŠIâm at your house now.â She says, slurring her words slightly.
Youâre up and striding toward your door before she can even finish her sentence, heart racing a hundred miles a minute.
âWhy would I be mad? God, Mabel, I swear you had me-â You stop abruptly, taking in the sight before you.
Sheâs standing somewhat bashfully, rocking on her heels, the right side of her face facing away from you. You furrow your eyebrows, sensing immediately that somethingâs terribly wrong.
You reach out to tilt her face so you can see all of it, and your mouth falls open at the sight. You grab her by the wrist and immediately drag her into your home. Your annoyance disappears instantaneously as you take her in again.
Itâs so purple, you canât help but reach out to graze your fingertips against it as she winces quietly.
âOh, baby.â You sigh, hooking a finger under her chin so she looks into your eyes. She canât meet your gaze, eyes flitting between your couch and the lamp, things she suddenly finds very interesting.
You get up and feel her hold on your wrist tighten, signaling to not go. You reassure her youâre only going to get the first aid kit, and youâll be back in a minute.
Mabel begrudgingly lets you go, looking so small and fragile sitting there.
âLook at me.â You tell her, sternly, when you get back. You take the cotton bud and apply some alcohol, gently dabbing it against a cut on her lip.
She hisses, unable to keep the pain at bay. You tut, telling her youâre almost done. You know she needs some tough love in moments like these- she was never the best at receiving affirmations.
âWhatever happenedâŠâ You start, biting your lip, trying to grasp the right words. Mabel looks at you intently.
âIâm sure you did your best. And it definitely wasnât your fault.â You know the way she works, better than you know yourself, and she blames herself for this. If anything didnât go her way, sheâd always get like this. Youâs always loved the perfectionist type, after all.
Mabel opens her mouth to speak for the first time in what feels like eternities.
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry I couldnât- couldnât get here on time for the date.â She blubbers, tears spilling out of her eyes.
You hold her for a while before you chuckle lightly, and watch as she looks up in surprise, eyebrows raised.
âI could care less about our date. What I care about is that youâre alive.â You tell her, cupping the side of her face that isnât bruised. Your other hand pressed against her chest, right where her heart is.
She takes your lips in a fierce kiss, surprising but not at all unwelcome. You happily lean in, kissing her like she might disappear tomorrow.
You lose yourself in the moment, push against her a little too hard, and she winces.
âShit, sorry.â You mumble sheepishly. She pecks you on the lips again before whispering huskily.
âYou knowâŠI heard kisses help with pain. I think you should help me out over here.â She points to her split lip, eyes suddenly twinkling.
The twinkle in your eye doesnât fail to match hers.
âI suppose I could help out someone unwellâŠitâs the right thing to do anyway.â You say with a little nod, though neither of you is listening to what youâre saying at this point.
âRight.â She grins, grabbing you by the nape of your neck and into her arms.
Even like this, bruised and bloody, youâre proud to say, that Mabel Black Label, your girlfriend, never fails to charm the pants off of you.
summary: in which jenna comforts you in a moment of grief
warnings: mention of a family member's death
word count: 472
author's note: entirely self-indulgent.
Jenna knew something was wrong the minute the call came. You didnât like real calls--you much preferred FaceTime so that you could âsee her pretty faceâ. When her ringtone went off, and she realized that it was you, she answered immediately, a sense of dread boiling in her stomach.
âBaby?â she asked. âWhat is it?â
She heard nothing but your sobs, the kind that choked you and left you gasping for air that would never reach your lungs. Worry started coursing through her veins, making her feel as though her skin had suddenly become too tight around her bones, and she jumped out of bed, looking for a pair of socks.
âWhatâs going on?â she tried again as she ran out of her bedroom, keeping her voice as calm as possible. She didnât need you knowing that she was starting to freak out; she didnât need to do that to you.
âSheâs gone,â you wailed, both words cracking beneath the weight of finality. A chill ran down her spine. âSheâs gone, Jenna.â
âWho, sweetheart?â She slipped on her shoes and grabbed her keys from the table, already out the door when your response came.
âMy grandma.â
Jenna stopped where she stood, her hand gripping her key fob as she stared at her car. Your grandmother had died? Your favorite relative? The woman that you had looked up to for your entire life?
âOh, baby,â she whispered softly, heart breaking for the grief that she knew was starting to drown you. âOh, sweetheart. Iâll be right there.â
* * *
She slid her key that you had given her to your apartment into the lock, letting herself through the front door. Even from the entryway she could hear your cries. She kicked her shoes off and rushed toward your bedroom, barging in without a second thought.
You were curled up on your bed, looking smaller than she had ever seen you, sobs shaking your entire frame. Your tears were flowing fast and heavy like they would never stop, and she closed her eyes for a brief second, almost unable to bear the sight.
âBaby,â Jenna cooed as she stepped farther in. You didnât look up. She didnât think you had the strength to.
She crawled on your bed and carefully rolled you over onto your other side so that your head rested on her chest. Her shirt was soaked almost immediately but she paid it no mind. Her fingers found purchase in your hair as they carded through the locks, trying to offer you some sort of comfort.
âItâs okay, sweetheart,â she whispered. âYouâll be okay.â
You started crying harder, and she wished there was something more she could do, but she knew there wasnât. She just had to be there while you fought this battle on your own. Grief couldnât be cured any other way.
hey guys, just wanted to pop in and drop an update.
i have been extremely busy and stressed recently because my lack of motivation due to grief has finally caught up to me, so i have been trying to step up to the plate in terms of my school work. along with that, my grief has stopped me from doing most things i enjoy, which is why there hasnât been any posts from me in the past few weeks.
i do plan to start posting on tumblr again, but please bear with me as i go through the grieving process. the family member who passed was extremely close to me, so it hit very hard. i likely will not start to post again for another few weeks at least.
A/N: I donât think I used any pronouns, so itâs gender neutral really (at least i think so, i canât rmb) inspired by none other than Ariana Grandeâs âmy hairâ. happy halloween đ!
âWednesday.â
The name tumbles out of your lips as easy as the flow of water on a steep channel, and you wonder how a simple word like a day of the week has turned into such a gratifying one.
âWednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday.â You mumble mindlessly, combing your fingers through her jet black hair.
She makes a tiny huff of annoyance as she stirs in your arms.
She knows you have a thing for words, whether it be big love confessions or simply saying her name throughout the day, which is a thing sheâs been trying to get better at, for you. Itâs hard, but sheâs morphed into the phase of getting used to your soft words and whispered endearments. She bites back the tiny part of her that wants to ignore them, instead letting them seep into and have their way with her.
You ruffle her hair fondly, but not too hard, well aware of how sensitive your girlfriend is about her hair.
Itâs something youâve come to learn about Wednesday, through your many years together.
She does not like her hair to be touched. She also famously doesnât let anyone else but you touch it.
Admittedly, it only makes you want to touch her hair more.
You nudge her slightly, murmuring in her ear that you guys have to get up for class.
âMs. Thornhill is going to be so pissed when she finds out I spent the night again.â You say mindlessly, feeling Wednesday tighten on top of you.
Sheâs still only a second before sheâs sitting up straight, rigid, a classic Addams family stance.
âYou did sneak in, didnât you?â She asks.
You roll your eyes, nudging at her to loosen up a little.
âYes, Wednesday. I attempted to sneak in. She, however, was waiting right outside your dorm room.â You recount, from just the night before.
She turns to you, eyes squinted.
The sight of you makes her heart do a little dance she wasnât aware it could do. Sheâll never understand it, the way you make her dull black heart race. It beats to the melody of her favorite symphony, fast paced and rapid.
Your hairâs a little ruffled, cheeks a little red, while you sit at the head of her bed in your best matching pjs.
She ponders about your words just a moment before sheâs speaking again.
âGood. She should know that youâll be sleeping in here for the rest of the year.â She says, finally.
You grin, childlike.
She purses her lips and makes the decision before she regrets it.
âDo my hair?â She asks, almost more of a command than a question.
You have to keep yourself from practically jumping off her bed in excitement. Sheâs never asked that before. You try to act nonchalant as you think about it.
Wednesday knows you better though, and she can already tell by the sparkle in your eyes that youâll say yes.
You could never say no to your girl, after all.
You nod eagerly, following Wednesday out the bed and over to her desk like a love sick puppy.
âEnid better not come in and see this.â Wednesday grumbles, reaching over to grab her hairbrush, one as black as obsidian.
âIt would be better than when she came in last night while we were-â Wednesday squeezes your wrist tight, a sign to shut up, and so you do.
She takes a few rubber bands out her beloved spider shaped box, one youâd given her as an anniversary gift, and places them in a single file line.
You gulp as you realized what youâve signed up for.
She turns to look at you expectedly, speaking with her eyes.
âOkay..braids.â You whisper underneath your breath, trying to remember how to braid hair.
To her credit, Wednesday doesnât say anything the whole while you do her hair. Not a complaint about the way it looks, or how youâve done it.
But you arenât that dumb. You see through your girlfriends expression in seconds. And youâre self aware, you know you havenât done the greatest job.
Itâs not horrible, by any means. But itâs just not the Wednesday Addams picture perfect braids.
One side is noticeably looser than the other, and it looks more like a loop than a braid.
âAre you finished?â Wednesday inquires, about to get out her seat.
You push her shoulders down softly, and tell her you have a special surprise.
You pull out a set of dark blue bows, tiny compared to her long locks of hair.
âAbsolutely not.â She says the minute you show them to her, shaking her head to affirm her statement.
You pout, giving Wednesday your best puppy dog eyes, but her face remains impassive.
âJust one?â You plead, playing with the tips of her braids.
Wednesday lets out a soft sigh and begrudgingly tilts her head so you can put on the bow easier.
âLove you so much.â You whisper, pressing your hand to her cheek lovingly.
You better, she thinks.
âNow, I believe we need to attend class in five minutes. Youâve already made me soft. Donât make me unpunctual too.â She says, the edge coming back to her voice.
âWait, are you actually gonna go out like that?â You ask, a little shocked.
âGoing to, y/n. There is no such word as âgonnaâ.â She says, and turns on her heel out the door, sure youâll be hurrying after her in minutes.
-
Everyone stares at Wednesday as you both enter the class. Youâre not late, but everyoneâs there already. They size up your girlfriend, questioning gaze apparent as they take in her hair.
âUm..Wednesday?â Enid sounds from the back of the class, âWhy does your hair look like that?â
You flush pink in embarrassment. Was it really that bad?
One look at you and Wednesday decides she has to once again comes to your aid when she clears her throat, directing all attention back to her.
âMy hair is normal. In fact, I quite like it like this.â She says, in a tone of voice that indicates that thatâs the end of the story.
Wednesday keeps her hair like that the rest of the day. Not once does she touch it, or take it out, even with random inquires coming from all the students at Nevermore.
That evening, you catch her grumbling before you enter her room for your nightly goodnight kiss on the cheek, words muffled through the door.
âLove has made me so feeble.â
You push open the door, pretending you didnât hear what you just did, and give her just a slightly longer kiss than you normally would, happy as a clam.
Summary: Wednesday gets a bad case of the late night feels.
Word Count: 600+
A/N: A short one simply for the vibes. Ty @wesstars n @mindyswhore for helping me out đ«¶đ» also iâm gonna mention @bingwriterxo simply cuz i miss her. Hope u enjoy!
Itâs been a harrowing day.
After getting a presentation youâd been dreading for weeks done- which had effectively taken all your strength and social battery, youâd been hit with homework for every single class.
Which is how you ended up in your dorm, on a Friday night, sitting and stirring in a mix of damning pride and self-loath.
A knock on the door has your head shifting up and has you turning down the volume of your blasting classical music.
Classical music youâve never cared for till you met Wednesday Addams.
Most popular loner to live. The infamous young detective. Psycho freak girl. A living black-and-white comic. All the names you can think of, but your favorite thing to call her is your girlfriend.
Sheâd played something on her cello one night while you were hanging out, and the music had flown through you so easily, lifting you and rattling you to the bone. It had been so magical you had to ask her what she was playing.
You saunter over to the door, somewhat unwillingly, believing youâve had enough social interaction for one day, but speed up when another knock sounds- this time louder and more hurried.
âWhat.â You growl, before even looking at your personal space intruder.
âAre you playing tricks on me?â Wednesday, your girlfriend of two years, asks the moment you open your door. Her expression is stoic, as always, but a quiver in her lip tells you better.
The sight of her has the opposite effect on you as it would others.
You feel that little jump like you do every time you see her.
You cock an eyebrow at her, mouth upturned slightly on one side. âWell hello to you too.â
She ignores your comment, favoring instead to walk briskly into your dorm room, one that belonged to you and only you- perks of being the headmaster's kid.
You watch her as she breathes in deep, a display of immense emotion for the Addams, and sags her shoulders.
Contrary to popular belief, Wednesday did have emotions, and not to toot your own horn, but you were well versed in all her different moods by now.
But right now, thereâs a different feeling in the air you canât quite place. She seemsâŠunguarded, unnaturally open.
You shut the door and lean back into the wall in time to see her turn around and walk up to you. She stops just centimeters away from you.
âWhatâs this about me playing tricks on you?â You question, a little hesitant, distracted by the glint in your girlfriendâs eyes. They barely show through her bangs nowadays, but today they shine brighter, demanding your attention.
Sheâs blinking slowly, gaze flitting between your lips and your eyes.
This was a look you were quite familiar with.
âDoes someone want a kiss?â You tease, placing your hands on her waist gently. You break out in a grin when she sighs at the soft touch.
âDo you enjoy knowing you have control over me?â She asks, tilting her head up to stare into your eyes properly. You look for a joke in her eyes, but her expression stays the same.
Your heart soars at her words. You, out of everyone, would know how much depth her words contain.
Wednesday Addams never says anything lightly.
âControl?â You prod, wanting to make the most out of whatever this mood of hers is.
She nods, looking so relaxed and adoring it makes your heart ache.
âControl.â She whispers, very much staring at you like she wants to grab you by the face and kiss you.
âYeah? Like what?â You tease further, ready for her to take back her former comment and call you an idiot.
What she does instead, surprises you. She turns her back and talks.
âWhy are you turned the other way?â You inquire softly, so as to not ruin the moment.
Wednesday takes another breath that has your heart beating faster.
âItâŠhelps me express my feelings.â She says. You see her hesitate before speaking once again.
âI want you to control me. Or something very close to that. I donât know what this peculiar feeling is, but itâs dreadful. Iâd do anything you asked.â She says, turning around to meet your gaze.
You soften, reach up to brush her face gently. As much as youâre enjoying the vulnerability, youâre a bit worried about what came over her to be so open.
âWhatâs happened? Are you okay?â You ask her quietly, concern seeping through your voice.
All she does is laugh lowly, shaking her head and bringing a hand up to cup yours.
âI am well, Y/N. Iâve just missed you.â She says, leaning further until sheâs pressed up against you, not leaving any space between the two of you.
âWe saw each other today.â You say, somewhat meekly, blushing furiously due to your girlfriendâs unexpected antics.
âI canât stop thinking about you. Your absence leaves a hole in my heart.â She tells you, adverting her gaze like sheâs suddenly overcome with doubt.
You take her chin in your hands and tilt her face back to you, wanting to get rid of any uncertainty she has about expressing her feelings. It took ages for her to even open up to you, and you never want her to go back to feeling guarded again.
âI missed you too.â You tell her, as sincerely as you can.
Wednesdayâs eyes soften even more like she doesnât believe you said it back.
Eyes all misty and cheeks tinted red, she looks good.
You lean forward and nip her lips, then pull her in harder when you feel her shiver underneath you.
She responds immediately, grabbing tight at your pjs.
You affirm your prior statements with the most tender kiss you can muster, and you know by the way she grips you even tighter that she understands.
summary: are people more likely to tell the truth while theyâre drunk?
word count: 800
warnings: all characters involved are 18+. AU, theyâre in some big city. wednesday and reader are childhood âfriends.â unresolved tension!!!
a/n: i miss yâall đhope everyone is doing well!! welcome to another wednesday wednesday with the most amazing @evilwednesday. special good morning to @mindyswhore. @melrodrigo told me to hurry up haha. (letâs just ignore how I missed last week okay)
1:28 am
come get your bitch.
Wednesday frowned at Yokoâs text. She wondered, briefly, who âyour bitchâ could ever beâunbidden, your grinning face came to mind, shining bright as a dying star. Wednesday hated it. It was stuff like this, knowing that your friends would ask Wednesday, of all people, to come pick you up, that was intolerable. Always popular yet with a genuine charm, you commanded attention wherever you were, so warm and dazzling that you eclipsed everything around you. You consistently crossed the line with Wednesday, since you really never knew when to stop. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her car keys.
***
You were giggling. It was insufferable: it had already been enough to go to the barâa place with sticky floors that Wednesday turned her nose up atâand it was excruciating to have dragged you out, catching you from rolling your ankle on the pavement, so your glittering laugh really was the worst torture Wednesday was willing to endure. Yoko had pushed you unceremoniously into Wednesday, while Enid sent her a sympathetic glance and a promise to text. Wednesday was torn between keeping her distance, so you wouldnât throw up on her shoes, and holding you upright so you wouldnât cause a scene, but you made her decision for her.
âYouâre soâsloppy,â Wednesday hissed, grabbing your elbow to stop you from careening into a pedestrian. Youâd always been a lightweight, since your university days, where it wasnât uncommon for you to show up, drunk as a dog, knocking at Wednesday and Enidâs place. You would claim that you lost your address. It wasnât uncommon for you to be over there at all, every little quirk you had being memorized by the apartment: your mug, your spare key, your book on how the biggest planets are made of the same things that humans are.Â
âWednesday,â you said, leaning on her shoulder. She wrinkled her nose. âWednesday, Wednesday, WednesdayâŠÂ
She scoffed. âJust be quiet.â
âI donât want to,â you whined, being the absolute child that Wednesday thought you were. She let go of your arm, stalking towards her car without you. While she definitely thought of you as someone she could do without babysitting, she still looked back to make sure you were following. You were tracing your crooked path on the sidewalk, scuffing your shoes as you trailed your fingers on every streetlight and sign pole that you passed. Something licked its way through Wednesdayâs veins, destructive like fire.
âYouâŠâ Wednesday ignored you. Why had she parked so far? The sooner you crashed on her couch, the sooner youâd leave her alone.Â
âYou, with that beautiful smileââ gods, just how many drinks did you have?ââHold on.âÂ
âI donât smile.â Wednesday waited, for some reason, as you stumbled forward, catching up to her while the drinks caught up to you.
Ignoring her, you whispered, âI have something to say to you,â showing all your teeth in a dopey smile. When you leaned in, Wednesday saw how the shine of the streetlights caught on your rosy cheeks, glowing.
âYouâre even prettier when youâre all the way here, with me, not just in my head.â
Wednesday felt her dead, still heart jolt with an artificial electricity, as if youâd pressed both hands to her chest and yelled clear! It was a startlingly alive experience, being touched by such a startlingly alive person. Every breath was hard to take, as you looked down. The streetlight cast a warm glow, lighting up your outline. You smelled too much like alcohol for such an admission, one where she could feel the cold metal of your arrow, Apollo ablaze, press up against her ribs.
It was weird, how one never really does know the answer to an unspoken question until it was right in front of them, burning.Â
âYouâre not going to remember this,â Wednesday said quietly. âIâm telling you now, so you can understand why.â She looked into your eyes; they were surprisingly clear for someone so inebriated.Â
Your voice was a whisper, nearly drowned out by a car rushing past. âWhy what?â
Wednesday looked up at you. Youâd stopped right in front of her car, an accuracy unbecoming of how drunk you seemed to be. She placed a hand on you, your shoulder this time, and yanked you down to her height. You were so close, now, your nose brushing hers, and she felt you take a breath. âWhy I donât mind you being this close.â She hoped you could smell the jasmine perfume she wore. âWhy I donât mind when you cross the line.â Your hair fell into your eyes. âWhy Iâm driving you home.â
She stepped back, opening the car door and shoving you in. You leaned your temple on the seat, head tilted back to meet her eyes.
hi guys - i appreciate all of the birthday wishes iâve received today! unfortunately, my family did also experience an extremely unexpected loss today, so i will not be posting for a while.
not at all jenna ortega related, but i want everyone to know i love @melrodrigo so so so much b/c even tho we live in different continents she still sent me a birthday card and if u guys dont have an online friend like thatâŠfind one
not at all jenna ortega related, but i want everyone to know i love @melrodrigo so so so much b/c even tho we live in different continents she still sent me a birthday card and if u guys dont have an online friend like thatâŠfind one
