Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Oh, no you don’t!” Enid mutters under her breath, eyes narrowing on the tarasek that tries to go after her healer. She smashes taunt until it turns to her and keeps a tight grip until the hunter kill shot’s it. “Hell yeah! Not so cocky now, huh, you motherfucker?” She moves to the double boss, the final one in this dungeon, and calls it to her.

She keeps her eyes on the game, not willing to get distracted by her chat or the–

Her iPad pings.

“Well hello there, pretty lady,” she flicks her eyes to her tablet, where she has Dorothy’s Roulette set up. She’d been kinda reluctant to try it out when one of her viewers suggested it a few weeks ago, but she’s liking it so far, meeting some really interesting people. The greasy, sweaty dude with leering eyes is certainly not one of them. She can’t see his lap, the image ends at his bare, hairy, greasy chest, but she can see his arm moving and flexing. Revulsion sweeps through her faster than a roadrunner. It’s so strong that she actually gags.

“Oh my Goddess,” she snatches her hand away from the keyboard and swipes him away, returning just in time to move away from the fireball Kyrakka sends her way. “Is Giddy here? I’m taking back what I said, DR isn’t fun. I think I just got an STI from looking at that guy,” she gags again and makes a disgusted face at the camera.

The chat is exploding with grossed-out and puking emojis, her iPad’s screen being linked into her set up as a little window next to the one that shows her own image, so they all saw the same thing she did. She finishes the fight, whopping when she sees the wavy horns manuscript for her velocidrake, and says thanks and goodbye to the team before exiting the dungeon and finally looking at her chat, absently noting that she has three more viewers than when she last checked.

DuskSesame: 🤢🤮🤢🤮

Yirigusss: well, that was incredibly traumatizing…

GiddyB¡tch: That has never happened to me!!! I recommended this app because it’s for LGBTQA+ people!!! And the developers take this kind of crap really seriously! Report him! 

Tritonium: 🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮

Fivvvy: hey! you finally got the manuscript! Congrats!

GiddyB¡tch: Like, everything is recorded so if you report it they review your claim and the user gets blocked.

“Hmm… ok, I’ll forgive you. Let me just…” She leans over to the tablet where the Searching for open chats still bounces around the screen and clicks on the History Tab. “OMG even his user name gives me the creeps,” She taps the cogwheel next to Big_D_Daddy and then the red Report . Then promptly laughs at the reasons presented. “Definitely ‘Creepy straight dude’,” She taps that one and goes back to the game. “Ok, what should we do next?” she asks as she flies over to Valdraken’s Rostrum to put the new horns in.

Yirigusss: sidequests?

BubblyBoo: Racing

DFG23: I think there’s a storm fury going on

“Oh, Storm Fury! Hell yeah, let’s do that! I need more essence for the mount,” she mounts and flies up, swooping around the arches to gain speed and then waving around the trees before flying up and onto the golden platform next to the portal.

Her iPad pings. She turns and can’t help but grin at the sight. A cat is lounging right in front of the camera, and she can barely see a head of unruly hair peeking up from behind it. It raises, and a girl that looks to be around ten grins at her.

“Hi! Your hair is very pretty!”

“Thank you! So is yours! And your kitten too! What’s their name?”

“Oscar! Say, do you know what DNA is made of?”

“Uhh… nucleotides, I think?” She checks her chat and sees a bunch of yeses and yeps. “Yeah, nucleotides.”

The girl giggles out a ‘thanks’ and leans back down. It’s then that it dawns on Enid that she’s talking to a child , and she clearly remembers the app having a +16 requirement.

“Should you be on this app, hun? How old are you?” the giggling stops, and the girl looks at her with wide eyes before swiping her away and the Searching for open chats starts bouncing around her screen once more.

SicklyGoof: BUSTED

GiddyB¡tch: her face when you asked her age XDXDXD

Enid makes a ‘what can you do’ face at her camera and enters the portal. Not even a second passes that Soridormi tells her the portals are closed, but the Primalists have awoken the monster. “Hah! Well, that was fast,” she immediately flies over, only to groan so loud she fears she peaks her mike. “No! Not the ice one!”

DFG23: Don’t be a baby!

FluffOff: cmon Enid you can do it!!!!!!!

BubblyBoo: I hate this one too, it’s such a pain

“Right? It’s like, the Earth one is super chill, the wind one just has the big ass area and then nothing, but this one? Ugh!” she makes another face at the camera and swipes at the elemental; she drops a heat source to keep the cold at bay. Soon enough the aegides appear, and she switches over to the closest one, having to move constantly to avoid all the goddess-damned areas that keep popping up and down. “I hate you,” she growls as she heals from the area that explodes on her face. So concentrated is she on avoiding death that she doesn’t notice the ping from her iPad and her chat going wild.

GiddyB¡tch: HOLY SHIT IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?????

Paablitoo: pretty

DuskSesame: is it me or is that viper the la muerte

SicklyGoof: OMGOMGOMG ITS WEDNESDAY ADDAMS!!!!!

“UGH, just die already, you motherfucker!” Enid shouts, smashing at her keys.

“You do realize that pressing the keys harder won’t impact anything, right?”

Enid freezes. She knows that voice. She’s watched both movies four times, each. She has all five books, three of them signed. She’s watched interviews and conferences. She turns to her iPad and there she is: Wednesday Addams. Looking at her, one eyebrow raised, head tilted slightly to the side.

“Uhh… hi?” she squeaks out, face burning and mouth gaping open.

“Hello.”

“... hi!”

DFG23: I think this is gay panic 2.0

DuskSesame: Enid you’re dying

GiddyB¡tch: ENID MOVE!!!

Tritonium: MOVEMOVE

FluffOff: MOVE

Fivvvy: MOVE

FluffOff: MOVE

Yirigusss: ENID MOVE

FluffOff: MOVE

“Wha–” Enid doesn’t think she’s ever seen her chat move so fast. Then what they say registers and looks up at her screen to see her character about to die, red pulsing at the edges of the screen. “CRAP, CRAP, CRAP!!!” she scrambles to press Tiger Dash, but it’s too late. Her health drops to zero, and her worgen shifts back to its OG form only to swing around and drop, its whimper echoing through the speakers. 

GiddyB¡tch: LOL death by gay panic

Fivvvy: RIP Enid, death by hot goth butch

Yirigusss: seems fitting tbh

DuskSesame: XDXD

“S-Sorry, I just… you’re Wednesday Addams”

“Correct. What of it?” Enid gapes.

“What do you mean, ‘what of it’!? You’re like, my hero! I’ve been obsessed with your book saga ever since the first one dropped! And the movies, holy shit! Like, it’s not as good as the books because a lot has to get cut out, but you’re amazing in those too! I’m such a fan!”

DuskSesame: Simp mode: activated

FluffOff: same, enid, same

“That’s pleasant to hear. I have to admit, you’re the most agreeable person I’ve met in this cursed app,”

“If you don’t like it then why are you using it?” Enid moves her iPad so it’s next to her computer screen and respawns. If she’s quick about it she may still loot the goddess-damned boss.

“I lost a bet with my brother. For the next week, I’m required to do two hours of an activity of his choice. Today: talk to strangers on a platform designed for queer people because, and I’m quoting here, ‘being a hermit is not sexy’,”

“Well, I don’t know, you look pretty great to me!” Enid grins down at the smaller screen while half her neurons run around in a panic inside her head. Wednesday’s right eyebrow raises, and the other half has a small heart attack.

Fivvvy: DAYUM ENID’S GOT GAME!!!!

GiddyB¡tch: that was gay

BubblyBoo: Smooth

“Be that as it may,” Wednesday continues, “I still have an hour to go, and as I said, you’re the most pleasant so far. So, what are you doing?”

“I’m playing World of Warcraft,” loot acquired, Enid exits the Primalist Future and returns to Valdrakken. “It’s an online game where you create characters, level up, explore, do dungeons and raids… you can also do PvP but I’m not really a fan of that.”

“Interesting.”

“Would you like to play with me?” does she sound eager? Well, she is. Incredibly. WoW is her favorite game and not many of her friends also play. Getting to play with Wednesday Addams is a dream come true “You have to pay for a monthly subscription to get to where I am, but you can make an account and level up a character up to level twenty to test it out for free!”

“...Sure, why not. I still have an hour to go. Let me get my laptop,” once gone, Enid turns to her camera, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Oh. My. Goddess,” she whisper-shouts. Her chat seems equally flabbergasted.

“Ok, we’re all set! Let’s get started!”

Enid is bouncing on her chair. She’s about to play World of Warcraft, one of her favorite games, with Wednesday freaking Addams aka her hero aka the author of her #1 favorite book series aka the hottest actress in the world. So... yeah, she’s excited, sue her. Her chat has been saying ‘SIMP’ over and over for around ten minutes now, but fuck them.

Wednesday is set up with her own Battle.net account, has downloaded the game, and is currently watching the Dragonflight trailer with wide eyes and a tilted head. “These are incredible graphics.”

They really are. Enid has watched all the trailers about a dozen times each.

They create new characters together: Enid chooses a human hunter, because she wants to try out the survival spec and wants the human heritage armor, and Wednesday –after almost ten minutes of deliberation and reading all the descriptions while Enid entertains her chat– chooses a draenei rogue, because the impossibility of a hooved being managing to sneak around, and Enid’s frustrated rant about it, are incredibly amusing. 

They obviously go to the Forgotten Reach so they can play together and Enid takes great pleasure in teaching Wednesday everything she can. She also talks about the backstory as much as she can without giving Wednesday any major spoilers, mainly the important story characters and how the game has progressed in the broadest terms she possibly can. She also gives her a brief description of what sets each expansion, from The Burning Crusade all the way to the current one, Dragonflight.

“I don’t like the way this is set up. I want it like you,” Wednesday complains ten minutes into the game as they kill a quillboar, her gauntlet-shaped mouse moving around the screen, so Enid directs her to the Edit Mode and they arrange her interface just like Enid’s. “He sounds ridiculous,” she adds once they rescue Lindie and he makes them get onto one of his contraptions.

“All gnomes sound ridiculous, Wednesday, wanna know why?”

“Hmm?”

“They are ridiculous,” Wednesday snorts, and Enid feels like she’s won a contest. No, she’s not obsessed. That snort was adorable and the little stutter in her chest is totally justified.

Yirigusss: GNOME BASHING TIME!!!

Tritonium: Ok, I’m out of here 😩😒

Enid giggles but decides not to go on another tangent of her completely unfounded beef with gnomes. For now. They keep playing together, separating only to complete their class-specific quests. Enid has a mini meltdown when she sees her new pet, a grey wolf with blue bands that she absolutely loves and will never replace. She names her Tofu.

By the time they reach level ten, kill the dragon, and are carted off the island, Enid is convinced Wednesday is hooked. And after, when they complete Val’sharah’s questline and Wednesday tells her to leave it there so their levels stay the same, Enid whoops and does a little dance on her chair.

“Another one converted into the dark side!”

“I admit, I have never felt so many emotions while playing a game, and I didn’t have a truly deep connection with the dragon. I look forward to continuing the story,” Wednesday says as she closes the app, their characters safely resting in Stormwind. “When are you next free? Preferably during at least two hours so we can have a decent amount of time in?”

She’s dreaming. Enid is totally dreaming.

“Well, I work from home and I manage my own schedule, so whenever you want, really,”

“Does the day after tomorrow at ten sound acceptable?”

“Uhh… yeah, yeah! Totally!”

“Perfect. I’ll send you a private message through this infernal app. I must attend to business now. It was a true pleasure.”

And with that, she’s gone, and Searching for open chats bounces around Enid’s screen once more. She shuts it down and listens to the music of the game for a few seconds before looking up at her camera.

“Well, that happened… I wasn’t hallucinating, right? That was Wednesday Addams… right?”

It’s then that Enid finally notices how big her audience is. She blinks down at the number, stupified, as the chat zooms by, just then noticing all the unfamiliar names. 

Now, Enid isn’t a full-time streamer, she doesn’t even have a set schedule except her Saturday evening/Sunday morning binge sessions, and her followers consist of her friends and about a hundred more people. Her usual audience tends to range from ten to forty people at a time with the four or five activities she usually does on stream, and last she checked she had eleven subs. Right now, she has two thousand viewers, and her followers have tripled.

“Holy shit, where did you all come from?!” she squeaks, and for the first time in her life, she has trouble reading her chat with how fast it’s going.

Fannnyy: Twitter

Duncan89: Saw on Twitter that Wednesday Addams was playing WoW. Had to see for myself.

Secilinia: Someone posted on Tumblr that Viper de la Muerte was playing a videogame on Twitch

WhyBother: twitter told me to come

Viv2002: Came to see if Viper de la Muerte was actually playing WoW. Stayed because I like your style.

“How…? Twitter? Tumblr?”

GiddyB¡tch: It was us. You’re welcome, Enid!

FluffOff: You’re welcome, babe! It’s about time people found out how much of a gem you are!

DuskSesame: MAKE SURE TO FOLLOW AND GET YOURSELVES A SUB FOR ENID’S CHANNEL!!! SHE WORKS TOO MUCH AND DESERVES TO BE ABLE TO PLAY MORE!!!

“Dusk, don’t you dare! No need for that! I work fine, I have a schedule so I don’t overwork myself, ignore them! Holy shit, ok. Honestly, this is kind of intimidating, I didn’t even notice everyone coming uhh… So… Thanks for watching, I guess? I’m not that big of a streamer, I just set it up whenever I feel like it; it’s mostly WoW but I also stream DnD sessions, Rimworld, and other games that my friends recommend… not much else to say… Goddess, this is awkward,” she giggles, feeling incredibly self-conscious. Reassurances from her regulars start pouring in, hearts and kissy faces abound.

BubblyBoo: You’re doing great, hun!

WhyBother: Honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a better and more succinct presentation. I’ll definitely come watch whenever you feel like streaming

Yirigusss: 😘❤️😘❤️😘❤️

Lignuss22: are you gonna stream the next session with Addams??? 

“Thanks, WhyBother, that feels nice to hear. Uhh… I’m not sure if I’ll stream on Thursday; as I said I only stream when the mood strikes and if it does I’ll have to ask her too if she’s ok with me streaming. She said it was fine today but I was already on stream when we started playing, I don’t know how she’ll feel then. We’ll see. I have to get going now, I’m already running a bit late. See ya all soon!”

And with that and a final wave at the camera, she ends the stream. Blowing out a deep breath she gets up from her chair, stretches until her back releases a few satisfying pops, and grabs her phone. The second she takes it out of Streaming Focus messages start pouring in, as well as missed calls and failed Face Times. Before she can read anything though, her phone rings, and Bestest Bestie , accompanied by a picture of her and Yoko’s faces smushed together to fit into the photo, flash on her screen.

“Enid. Bestie. Sister. Platonic love of my life. Who did you just spend three hours playing with???”

“Uhh…”

Chapter Text

Enid has had a crush on Wednesday Addams since they were fifteen years old and Wednesday starred in Ancestry, a movie adaptation of her favorite book, and announced at the Oscars she was the author of the Book Series. 

She had fallen in love with that same book and its characters two years prior when it came out, but when she had looked up the author to see if they had more books she was not only disappointed to see they had none, but that there was no info on them. Every search on Google turned up the same results: ‘The author of the latest YA literary sensation has decided to remain anonymous for the time being and continue to use the name of their main character, Viper de la Muerte, as their pseudonym’. A year later, Prowlers: A Viper de la Muerte Mystery came out, and Enid managed to get an advanced and signed copy as a collective birthday present from her father and brothers (her mother had given her the most boring sweater in existence). She read it all that same night and made the entire household regret the gift for an entire month.

Then that first movie was announced, and while Enid had been excited, movie adaptations were notorious for being terrible or at least not as good as the books, so she hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up. But lo and behold, it was amazing; no, it wasn’t as good as the actual book, but it was incredible, and all thanks to the main actress that played Viper, one Wednesday Addams.

It was then, watching the first trailer and then the movie, that Enid felt it for the first time. Attraction. Don’t get her wrong, she wasn’t completely oblivious, she’d known she wasn’t attracted to guys for a long time, but she’d never felt something like that before, only a softer form of attraction or admiration to other women like Avril Lavigne or strong characters like Merida.

Some might consider fifteen rather late for a gay awakening, but given the environment she grew up in, she’s actually rather surprised and proud of herself for figuring it out at all. And besides, everyone figures themselves out at their own pace, there’s no timeline, so whatever.

So yeah, Wednesday had been her first-ever crush. A rather superficial one as she didn’t actually know the actress and author, but the book series and the movie adaptations, coupled with the few interviews, signing booths at conventions, and live readings had been the highlight of her adolescence. She’d even had an opportunity to talk to the girl when they had been seventeen at a book signing, but Wednesday had looked incredibly tired and irritated so she’d merely told her her name for the personalized note and thanked her.

And here she is now at twenty-five, getting to know her hero and inspiration, playing her favorite game, and dare she hope… flirting?

Wednesday Addams is what some may call a hermit; though she prefers the word recluse, as it invokes the image of a venomous spider into the mind of the listener instead of a thieving crab, but that’s another, completely unrelated tangent. The point is, she prefers to stay in her family grounds and interact with the outside world as little as possible. That desire, however, finds itself contradicting her most treasured aspiration: beat her literary hero and nemesis, Mary Shelley. She may be long dead, but Wednesday isn’t one to let death stop her from getting competitive with someone.

And she did accomplish it, and with six years to spare. What she hadn’t anticipated, however, is just how well received her work would be by the mindless populous. It had been truly disappointing, and for a time she’d actually considered that she’d written true garbage for so many in the uncultured masses to enjoy it, but then the actual demographics of her audience came in and her faith in the book she’d poured so much into was renewed: teenagers –hormone-driven machines of self-importance– and children –mucus-filled bags with sticky fingers– comprised less than ten percent of her audience. The remaining ninety percent was evenly distributed along the remaining five ranges, and after a quick hacking into her publishing house records, she saw that they were most popular amongst academics, particularly those teaching and studying psychology, psychiatry, and criminology. 

She hates to say it, but she’d strutted around the house for a full day after that.

It hadn’t been long before she had her second book and her third was underway, and then her publisher had told her someone wanted to make her book into a movie. She’d, of course, refused; after a lot of badgering and begging and outright bribing, she’d acquiesced with the condition that she would have veto power over any decision made, from cast to changes to locations. And then, without telling anyone, she’d gone to Viper’s audition and performed so well that the directors told everyone else right then and there to go home. Her publisher’s face when she saw the cast list had been priceless and worth all the effort.

But anyway, she’s losing herself in her thoughts, and as much as it is a trait of a great writer, it can be counter-productive. She turns on her computer, a purchase that she’d resented at first but now adores (unlike her phone), and logs into her Discord. Enid had introduced it to her a couple of weeks into their friendship so they could communicate better and Wednesday could finally delete Dorothy’s Roulette.

Wednesday: Good morning, Enid. Are you free to play?

Enid: Hey, Willa! Sorry, I’m starting a D&D session in an hour with my friends. You’re welcome to join us though!

Wednesday: What is D&D?

A few seconds pass, and then Enid is calling.

“Wednesday. Friday. Addams. Do not tell me you don’t know what D&D is.” Enid sounds serious, but by now Wednesday has memorized the little changes in pitch and inflection in her voice, and is able to determine Enid is joking. Mostly.

“Technically I already did.” Enid’s groan is loud and long. Taking advantage of the fact that no one can see her, Wednesday allows her smirk to bloom fully on her face for a full five seconds.

“Ok, no. This is a crime. An absolute tragedy. You are joining the session. I’m sending you a character sheet, open it on your iPad, we have a lot to cover and not a lot of time.”

And so, Wednesday finds herself once again swept into Enid’s hurricane of madness, and listens attentively as the girl describes the game, the game styles, and the available races. The narrative and creative aspects of the game really appeal to her, so she agrees to play even though Enid had already decided unilaterally that she would, indeed, play. The first step is, after becoming acquainted with the game, to create a character. Enid shows her her own Character Sheet.

“Look, this is the one I made for this campaign. Her name is Neegara, she’s a human barbarian. She was found as a baby in the woods and grew up in a half-orc tribe. Her mothers raised her to be strong and vicious but fair. She’s not that great at social stuff despite being human and loves animals. She is joining the group at the request of one of her tribe sisters, Volah –that’s my friend Yoko–, so she can help them find and defeat this thing that is causing trouble around Bireny’s town –that would be Volah’s elf girlfriend, played by Divina, who also happens to be Yoko’s girlfriend too–. Eugene and Kent are also playing, so the party has, in total, two barbarians –one human, one half-orc–, an elf druid, and a dwarf paladin. Eugene will be our DM. You with me so far?” Wednesday nods and hums, but keeps her eyes on her character sheet. “You’re not listening to me!”

“I am, I’m an incredibly skilled multitasker. I have retained everything you’ve told me and completed my character. I also have an idea of how to introduce her into the narrative but I’d like your input, as I’m obviously not well-versed in this game.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah! Let’s see it!”

“Her name is Kalma, after the Finnish goddess of death and decay. She’s a tiefling sorceress from an incredibly powerful line of tieflings. Her family, unlike their brethren, fully accept their devil-given heritage and powers and are shunned even by their own race for it, as if they don’t all share the same ancestor. 

“She’s been raised from infancy to be the best in her line, training with her father in the tiefling ways and with her mother as a sorceress, honing her skills and becoming the most accomplished sorceress in the region at the young age of twenty. And although she’s treated with distrust and fear, her prowess and achievements are recognized in all the major cities, so she’s able to make a living on her own until she’s called back home to take her place as the head of her house.

“Neegara and Kalma met about two years ago when Neegara saw Kalma get harassed on the streets of a northern village, and had to save the townspeople from getting roasted alive by the sorceress. They quickly developed a friendship and determined that by combining their strength and power they’d be able to complete jobs much more efficiently, so they’ve been traveling together ever since. When Neegara received word from her sister that her help was needed, Kalma agreed to accompany her, if only to make sure she didn’t die after becoming so accustomed to having a sorceress at her side and back.”

“...whoa.”

“I assume that is adequate?”

“Adequate? Holy shit, Wednesday, you’re making my characters from now on! That’s amazing! Are you sure this is the first time you do this?”

“Is this the first time I play Dungeons and Dragons? Yes. I, however, have created many characters before, as you well know.”

“Right, right. You’re Awesome Writer Extraordinaire, I should have seen that coming. Anyway! It’s almost time! Let’s add you to the group. It’s a pity Bianca couldn't join us today, you two would have definitely hit it off!”

Her introduction into Enid’s group of friends goes more or less as the blonde predicted: Yoko ‘flips’, Divina is polite while also expressing her undying love for her work, Eugene stammers for a bit before muting himself and Kent asks why everyone is acting so weird about Enid’s new friend.

All in all, not that bad. 

The campaign starts without a hitch after Eugene has some time to read over Kalma’s backstory, and they are soon on their way, the characters making connections while gathering their gear and supplies and then on their search for the monster that has been terrorizing the town. They encounter a bit of a snag when a group of bugbears tries to start trouble, but Wednesday gets so high an intimidation roll that, coupled with the tiefling intimidation bonus and Kalma’s family’s influence on the region, manages to leave Eugene’s charts.

“It’s fine, it’s fine! I can work with this! Ahem: The bugbear leader stumbles back, eyes wide when he sees Kalma stepping forward, the butt of her staff thudding loudly against the ground. ‘You… you’re the Anakis Heir!’ he stammers. He drops his sword, the chipped blade clattering when it impacts the ground. ‘Oh, hells no. There’s no way I’m going against an Anakis ’, he adds, and promptly turns tail and sprints away, abandoning his comrades.” Wednesday has to admit that she finds herself pleasantly surprised with Eugene’s narration and the different voices he does for the numerous NPCs. She wonders if he’d be willing to do her Audiobooks; she still hasn’t managed to find someone with a voice she likes that also narrates up to her standards.

“Anakis?” Kent murmurs.

“I step forward until I’m leaning over Kalma’s shoulder and go, ‘Boo!’” Enid says, practically whispering the last part.

“Intimidation check, please?”

“Uhh…” Wednesday hears a clatter, and then Enid speaks again. “Thirteen.”

“Ok. Three of the remaining four bugbears stumble back, already unsettled by their leader’s abandonment and terrified response to a rather short tiefling sorceress, and decide to also back away. They do so slowly for the first few meters before running in the same direction as their leader. The remaining one, however, growls and slaps the head of his mace across his opposite hand. ‘I am not that easily spooked!’ he roars. What do you do?”

And so it goes. After defeating the bugbear (and healing up Kent after he trips over his own shield and breaks his arm) they continue to Bireny’s town, where they’re then directed to the mountains.

“But just as you step into the deepest part of the forest, a roar splits the air, forcing you all to cover your ears and bend over in pain.”

“I–”

“Nope, that’s it for today! I have to help Mama with her plants now. See ya!” and then he’s gone.

“Did he just–?”

“He did.”

“Asshole,”

“Good morning, everyone! It has been… almost a week since I’ve done a stream, huh? And even longer since I’ve done a Warcraft one! Willa’s rogue is finally level sixty, so we’re going to the Dragon Isles!!!”

GiddyB¡tch: ENID!!! LONG TIME NO SEE!!!! 😘😘😘

WhyBother: Good morning! How have you been?

Yirigusss: 60 already???? Where did you go??? 🙀

DuskSesame: Hi Enid!!!

Fivvvy: And you kept the journey from us? Meany! 😤

FluffOff: 👋🏾👋🏾👋🏾

Viv2002: Willa?

“It’s been a busy work week and I’m so ready to unwind! I think massacring hundreds of pixel clusters is exactly what I need!” she giggles and continues reading her chat while she waits for Wednesday to call her. “Sorry for not streaming anything, It was just short bursts here and there whenever we both had an hour or so, and I really didn’t feel like setting everything up for such a short session. We did Shadowlands, and found out that if you’re not level sixty once you finish the starting campaign then there’s nothing to do –I mean, there are side quests, but you can’t join a covenant– then we went to BFA, and did Jaina’s story and I swear you guys Wednesday got all teary! She said it was just allergies but she can’t fool me! I know, I was there too!” She looks back down to read more comments and has to take a second to process the number of viewers. Yeah… she’s not addressing that. And then someone gifts fifty subs in chat.

“Holy shit!” she actually jumps in her chair, eyes wide and mouth open. As if in a trance, Enid opens her account page and– yep, seventy-three subscriptions. “Oh, my goddess thank you so much! Everyone that got a subscription, say thanks to… Black_Dahlia! But for real, don’t feel the need to give me money, this is just a hobby, I don’t stream to make anything extra, I–”

Thankfully Wednesday interrupts her before she can really start and they start playing.

“So, as not to de-sync our characters’ progress, I decided to make another character. I decanted myself for a human paladin. She’s going to go through the traditional leveling route.”

“Paladins are really cool, yeah. I have one too. I tried to have her as a healer, but after too many runner tanks not giving me the time to learn it stopped being fun, and decided to be a tank myself. But a good one, obviously.”

They work through the campaign at a fast pace, and in no time they’re helping Khadgar keep a bunch of dragons at bay while they wait for Kalecgos to come to help them.

“I have this theory about Khadgar,” Enid starts, voice soft as she concentrates on hitting the dragons.

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, like… he’s going to die in this expansion,”

DuskSesame: no, he’s not!!!

Lignuss22: wow, is he?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?

GigaNissa: WWWWWHHHHHAAAAAATTTTT????????

“How so?” Asks Wednesday as she mounts up and waits for Enid to get on with her. As soon as she’s a little blue baby dragon, they’re off.

“Well, he wasn’t really around during Shadowlands, right? And then there’s this conversation with Jaina in Oribos after you defeat the Jailer where he’s all like, ‘I wanted to see the Shadowlands before…’ and ‘I feel the years catching up to me’, and I swear to Goddess the first thought I had was, yeah he’s dying in the next expansion,”

“Hmm… an interesting theory, no doubt. It certainly is a common theme to have characters that get introspective die soon after.”

“Yeah, one you certainly had fun exploiting it in Subterra , I spent the entire book terrified Maxine was going to die!”

“As if I would follow cliches. You know me better than that,” Wednesday scoffs, and Enid can’t help but giggle.

“Says the woman that based her first D&D character on herself,” Enid mutters, loud enough for her mic to pick up.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, it’s pretty cliche! Everyone bases their first character on themselves!”

“... Are you calling me basic, Enid?” Wednesday’s voice is deadpan and quiet. It drives a shiver down her spine.

“I mean… if the shoe fits…” They’re diving straight into the Nokhudon Hold. “Wait… what are you doing?” No answer. They’re nearing the ground. “Wednesday?” they crash, and every centaur starts attacking her. Wednesday dismounts and in a fraction of a second activates stealth and sprints away, leaving Enid scrambling and shrieking, trying to run away so she can fake death, but there are too many and she’s dead in five seconds. “You monster…” she whimpers, watching her screen dejectedly.

“What were you saying?” oh, the smug voice. She hates and craves it at the same time.

Wednesday has a dilemma. It’s not one that’s overly complicated, she’s already devised two different solutions, but both are equally bad and could be catastrophic in many different ways. One: she doesn’t do anything, she keeps their relationship as it is, cursed to watch from the sidelines as the object of her desires is taken away by another. Or two: do something, take a leap of faith, open herself up, and grab it with both hands.

Should she really open that door? Should she bring sweetness and light into her life? The thought is daunting, but she knows that she’ll regret not doing it for, possibly, the rest of her life.

She takes a deep breath, mind made up. She steps forward and rings the bell.

…

…

“Yes?”

…

…

“Hi. I’d like the last pain au chocolat , please.”

Chapter Text

“I don’t think that’s going to work, Yoko. We should–”

“Shush, it’ll work. You all just need to do as you’re told. Re–”

“I’m not committing suicide for you, Yoko. The plan is idiotic.”

“Look, Addams, this is the first time you’ve been on a campaign, so just trust the professionals, ok?”

“I am. Enid said it won’t work. Also, given the fact that you’re basing your success on three different roll checks going your way, the chances of this plan succeeding are incredibly low,”

Viv2002: She’s right. Lower than 30%

GiddyB¡tch: ya hear that, Enid? You’re a professional XD

DuskSesame: don’t be stupid, Yoko! It won’t work!

“See? Even chat says it won’t work.” Enid’s feelings are incredibly conflicting: on the one hand, she wants Yoko to see for herself just how bad her plan is, but on the other, if she dies they’re down a berserker moments before the final battle. Wednesday’s character does have a resurrection spell, but she’d need a near-perfect roll for that. Not good.

“Bah, what do they know? It’ll work, ok? I’ve been getting low rolls for an hour, so I have to get high ones now.”

“That is called the Gambler’s fallacy and is completely incorrect.”

“Are you calling me a gambler?!”

“...That’s not what I said.”

“Whatever. C’mon, let’s do it! I open the door and cast a luminescence spell!”

“I grab Neegara’s arm and march away from the cave, leaving Volah to die a horrific death.”

“You bitch! Enid, do something!”

“I sit on a rock and offer Kalma some snacks.”

Yoko screeches.

“Volah’s spell illuminates the chamber: there are around twenty orcs inside. They all turn towards the door, weapons ready.” Eugene narrates, his voice sounding incredibly amused, though he manages not to laugh.

“Oh, c’mon!” Enid doesn’t have the same restraint; after Yoko’s despair-filled exclamation, she burst out laughing. Her chat is filled with laughing emojis.

“Babe, we’re home!” Divina’s voice sounds faint, “they said it’s just a mild concussion.”

“I’m ok!” Kent this time, much closer than before. “I gotta stay with you guys for a few days.”

“Great…” Yoko mutters.

“So, how’s it going?” Divina’s voice sounds loud and clear, probably standing next to Yoko.

“Your girl pulled a Kent and is going to die a gory and horrific death.”

“Yoko was showing us just how helpless she’s without you, Divi!” yeah, she’s definitely having too much fun with this, but Yoko has been feeling far too superior after she figured out the riddle to escape the dungeon maze. This will be a good reminder that she’s not invincible.

“What?”

“Volah is currently standing in front of about twenty orcs armed with only her staff and a small dagger while Neegara and Kalma watch from the edge of the forest, munching on some breadsticks,” Eugene provides. Yoko whimpers, Kent swears, and Enid’s chat cracks up.

“Babe…”

“Enid and Wednesday were supposed to help me! I had the perfect plan!”

“She didn’t,”

“Yeah, like… at all.”

There’s a thump, like something hard connecting with another rigid surface, and then Yoko whines like a dog, long and loud. It just makes Enid laugh harder.

“Cease your whining, it will be ok. I have an ability booster and an invisibility spell. If you and Enid can hold them for two turns, the chances of success are eighty-five percent.”

“Wha– Bitch, why didn’t you do that earlier?!”

“...well, at first you wouldn’t let me speak, and then I wanted to teach you a lesson; bravery and courage are certainly to be admired, but overconfidence will get you killed,” there’s a pause, and then Enid snorts, which sets both Divina and Kent off. She can barely hear Yoko’s ‘Fuck you, Addams’ over her giggles.

BubblyBoo: bbbbbuuuuuurrrrrrnnnnnnn

Fivvvy: I think I can see the smoke from my dorm.

Valenttina: What’s her address, I’ll send her some Neosporin.

“Ok, that’s enough, you guys!” Eugene interrupts, tapping his mic to make as much noise as possible. “I have to go soon, so let’s get you past those orcs! Wednesday, cast your d4 to see the boost you get; Enid and Yoko, what do you do?”

“Hey… Willa?”

Wednesday hums to let Enid know she’s listening. She’s on one of her asocial moods, barely verbal and avoiding human interaction at all costs; she tolerates Enid’s voice only because she’s speaking softly and sparsely and makes no requests that Wednesday answer. She’s showing her one of her favorite games, Rimworld, while Wednesday makes a final proofread of her latest manuscript. It’s a really interesting concept, even in the safe mode with all the threats taken out. Apparently, Enid enjoys building the cutest, biggest base she can manage, stockpiling everything –food, materials, clothes, money– and keeping her settlers healthy and happy, and hates having the more aggressive nations attack her. Wednesday doesn’t really understand that kind of game, she believes she’d rather enjoy the action and adrenalin of defending her colony, but that must be the reason the game has so many modes and customization options: so everyone can enjoy it their way. Enid even said there’s a ‘mod’ that would allow them to play together, and that Wednesday would be the one charged with defending while Enid constructed and tended to the animals.

“I was wondering if… Like, would you be open to… meeting up in real life? Like… face to face?”

The pen freezes above the page, millimeters away from a sentence that she’ll have to correct later. 

Worst. Timing. Ever.

Her first response to that is no. No way. But that’s her mood talking. Right now the thought of leaving her room makes fire ants crawl all over her, she doesn’t even want to consider actually going outside and meeting someone. If Enid had asked at any other time, Wednesday would have –very calmly– jumped on the chance to meet up with this woman that has, quite literally, brought light and color into her world and makes her stomach do somersaults inside her abdomen. So she sets her pencil down and leans to the side to reach her computer’s keyboard.

Wednesday: Ask me again some other time.

“Oh, I didn’t mean right now, just… whenever you feel like it.”

Wednesday: I know. But at the moment just interacting as we are right now is stressing enough, thinking about going somewhere and meeting face-to-face is too much. Ask me some other time, and the answer might be yes.

Enid stays silent for some time, the music of the game silenced as she pauses it.

Enid: What do you mean by that? Stressing?

Wednesday pauses, her fingers tense over the keys. Is this too personal? Too much? She hasn’t really disclosed her psyche, let alone her unofficial diagnosis, to anyone outside of the family. But Enid, in the almost half a year they’ve known each other, has become one of her dearest friends and confidante –she even helped Wednesday get out of her brief bout of writer’s block back when she was starting the finished novel she has in her hands–, and she thinks that if anyone has earned the right, then that person would be Enid.

Wednesday: I get into these mindsets sometimes, my mother called them Moods when I was a child. I’m nearly nonverbal, even soft sounds and light are overstimulating, and the briefest social interaction is overwhelming.

Enid: Why didn’t you say anything? We could have rescheduled!

Wednesday: I promised I’d let you show me your game today.

Enid: yeah, but it would’ve been ok! I don’t want you to be uncomfortable while we’re spending time together! If you tell me ‘Not feeling it right now, raincheck?’ then it’s fine! No questions asked!

Enid: Ok, that’s a lie, I’d ask if you’re ok, but that’s it. How about we stop and I show you the rest some other day? Message me whenever you’re feeling up to some gaming, and if I’m not in the middle of an important project we’ll play, ok?

That’s… yeah, that is actually a reasonable and acceptable course of action.

Wednesday: Not feeling it right now, raincheck?

Enid: You’re cute XD. Sure, you ok?

Wednesday: I most certainly am not. Yes, just overwhelmed. We’ll continue later?

Enid: You most certainly are. Okidoki, we’ll talk later! Bye! 😘😘😘

Wednesday’s heart stutters in her chest.

Half a year. She’s known Enid for half a year and she’s already reduced her to this . She eyes the manuscript in her hands, the one where she introduces, for the first time, a new main character: Selene, a young werewolf that appears at Viper’s doorstep with a desperate plea to help her absolve her wrongfully imprisoned sister. And along the way, they stop being detective and client and become friends, confidantes, and for Viper, maybe something more intense she’s never felt before.

Her publisher had been ecstatic with the addition, saying how the bright, ‘girl next door’ energy Selene brought into the narrative would reach a broader audience, especially if a romantic relationship developed between Viper and Selene.

Half. A. Year. 

And she’s done the one thing she swore to never add to her books, no matter what: romance.

Enid is sweating bullets. Well, not really, but that’s because it’s freezing and she’s doing everything she can to stay warm, bouncing on her toes and fidgeting with her gloves. Ok, that last one isn’t because of the cold. She’s nervous AF and if she doesn’t move she’ll just explode.

She’s finally meeting Wednesday.

Wednesday. Fucking. Addams.

…

Yeah, she’s freaking out.

Trying desperately to calm herself, Enid takes in a deep, deep breath, and lets it out slowly. She paces across the little, snow-covered path, trying to dispel some energy. They’re meeting up in a rarely transited route in the public park, close enough to other people that both of them feel safe in case the other turns out to be a crazy, serial killer in disguise, but far enough away that they won’t get interrupted or recognized. The second one had been rather a surprise and recent development for Enid, who had the displeasure of having her first ‘getting recognized in public’ experience while on a midnight snack-run in her rainbow unicorn onesie and penguin slippers. It wasn't anything she hadn’t worn on stream, but… yikes. 

It hadn’t helped that it was a horny, sleazy-looking sixteen-year-old boy and she hadn’t been wearing a bra. Talk about awkward. At least her friends got a good laugh out of it.

So here she is in her bulky pink parka over a fuzzy purple sweater, thermal pants beneath black cargo pants, her trusty pink snow boots, and her face hidden in a snood and a bobble hat so only her eyes are exposed to the elements.

Enid turns, ready to make another lap, only to jump and yelp like a puppy when she sees a little black shadow right in front of her, looking at her with big, chocolate eyes that crinkle a little at the edges, like they’re laughing at her.

“Holy shit– Wednesday! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

The author looks up at Enid from beneath her lashes – OMG she’s so short and cute and – and lowers her bulky scarf to show Enid the barely there smirk tugging at her lips. Or maybe she just wants to talk without her voice getting muffled. Who knows. Enid certainly doesn’t. She doesn’t know anything except the fact that the twinkle in Wednesday’s eyes makes her heart do weird shit.

“Hello, Enid.”

“...hi,” she mumbles, feeling suddenly incredibly awkward, like they haven’t known each other for almost a year or that they talked yesterday. She shuffles her feet, looking down at the little shapes she’s making on the incredibly trampled snow, and manages to raise her gaze up to Wednesday, only to find her already looking at her. She grins sheepishly and raises her arms. “Hug?”

Wednesday blinks and stares at the offered arms before stepping forward without a word, and with her hands still wedged deep into her coat pockets, presses herself against Enid. “Tight, or it’ll make me want to crawl out of my skin.”

Oh. Okay. 

Enid brings her arms around, curling around the slight frame of this incredible woman, squeezes until Wednesday relaxes against her, and tries to maintain a steady pressure until she steps back and takes it as her cue to let go.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” she grins, bouncing on her toes. Wednesday hides her face into her scarf for a second before appearing again to reply.

“We’ve known each other for a year, Enid.”

“Haha. Ok, you smartass. It’s so nice to finally meet you in person!”

Wednesday nods. “It’s nice to meet you in person as well,” she turns, angling her body to the side, and inclines her head, motioning for them to walk. “Did you encounter any difficulties getting here?”

“No, everything went ok. I love this place, honestly, it’s so peaceful.”

They walk around the park, avoiding the more crowded areas where kids are making snowmen and another one where there’s a full-on snowball war going on with at least four different factions, from what Enid can see. They stay to watch it unfold, Wednesday wanting to see who comes out victorious. They, unfortunately, never manage to find out: the factions dissolve, former teammates turning on each other, and all the children end up rolling around the snow. Wednesday scoffs, shaking her head, and starts walking again.

“That was so cute,” Enid giggles, and then catches the barely there pout in Wednesday’s face. “What? Are you mad that they broke rank and turned on each other?” She’s still giggling, and it makes Wednesday hide her face in her scarf.

“It shows an incredible lack of discipline.”

“They’re kids, Willa,” Enid steps closer and presses her fingers into the crook of Wednesday’s elbow. The shorter woman juts it a little to the side, and Enid slides her arm into the widened crook.

“They looked old enough to understand basic commands and regulations. When I was that age I would have never betrayed my compatriots,” she says with such a put-out voice that Enid wants to squish her. So adorable.

“So, you never told me what the execs thought about your book! When am I gonna be able to get it?”

“My publisher said they were practically salivating for it; she managed to increase my take by five percent. Not that I really need it, but the more I make the more she makes, so it’s understandable that she’d want to increase our take.”

“Well, congrats nonetheless. So when can I buy one?”

“They’re in production right now, they’re trying to get them out in stores by Christmas.”

“Aw.. but that’s two months from now!”

Wednesday hums, and keeps walking.

They stay silent for some time, simply strolling around and enjoying each other’s company. Enid ends up practically cuddled into Wednesday’s side after the author leans a little bit into her while they wait for an incredibly frazzled-looking father trying to wrangle four kids to cross the little walkway they’re on, and then Enid just stays close, letting her temple rest on Wednesday’s head every time they pause. She makes sure to keep her hold on her arm firm, and from time to time gets a little squeeze in return.

Wednesday brings them to a stop at the end of the path, where it merges into a bigger one. Enid watches as Wednesday looks off to the right path, her arm flexing under Enid’s fingers. She stays silent, familiar at this point with Wednesday’s thought process. She watches the people around them, smiling at the little girl, no older than five, walking a mountain of a dog, her fathers walking right behind her hand in hand.

“Enid…” she looks down at Wednesday and hums to let her know she’s listening. Wednesday peeks up at her for a second before returning her eyes forward. “Would you like to get an early copy of the book?”

“Wha– wait, of the one coming out in December?”

“Yes,”

“OMG, really?!” she squeals, her arm tightening around Wednesday’s.

“...yes,” she repeats slowly, in a tone that leaves no question of what she thinks of Enid’s listening abilities.

“Oh, Goddess! Of course!” she bounces on her toes, her excitement leaking out of her any way it can.

“I have a couple of copies at home; if you’d like, we can go–”

“Yes! Yesyesyes !!! Let’s go, let’s go!” she’s giggling and squealing like a maniac, but she doesn’t care. She tugs Wednesday forward and to the right, skipping and practically dragging Wednesday forward in her excitement.

It doesn’t take them long to reach Wednesday’s home, and Enid uses the time to regale Wednesday with every detail she remembers about the books and the overarching plot connecting them as if she’s not talking to the author herself. Thankfully, Wednesday seems amused –and dare she say… endeared?– by Enid’s enthusiasm. They reach the townhouse Wednesday resides in while she’s in the city –one of her own acquisitions, instead of a family-owned property of which are apparently many– and the author opens the door, motioning the blonde inside, and goes about disarming the security system while Enid takes off all her layers and surreptitiously snoops around.

“No need to sneak around, Enid, I’ll give you a tour soon enough,” she squeaks and turns to see Wednesday looking at her with a barely there smirk and a raised eyebrow. Not so surreptitious after all. “So, tour or book?”

“Book!” No question there. 

Wednesday nods and offers her arm again. Enid takes her hand instead, keeping her hold loose until she remembers the shorter woman prefers a firmer touch and tightens her grip, looking at Wednesday to make sure it’s ok. Wednesday looks at their hands for a second before squeezing and looking away. She guides Enid through the halls and up a flight of stairs, murmuring about the rooms they pass by, until they reach a pair of double doors. Wednesday lets go of Enid’s hand to throw them open.

“Welcome to my writing room,” she says, voice filled with pride. Enid doesn’t blame her. The room is… big, but it doesn’t feel cavernous, instead looking incredibly cozy and like it’s practically daring you to not feel comfortable in it, see if you dare. The walls are painted a greyish blue, with a few paintings depicting forests and cliffsides. There’s a desk off to one side with what looks like the most comfortable office chair Enid’s ever seen, a reading nook piled up high with fluffy pillows. And…

“Am I hallucinating or is that a giant Teddy bear?” it totally is. And it’s sitting in what looks like a human-sized dog bed.

“Yes. My father got it for me for my first birthday, so I’d have something to strangle in my sleep. The softness of the fur helps me concentrate if I can’t work at the desk or the nook.” Wednesday’s voice is matter-of-fact, completely unperturbed about Enid’s little crisis over her owning a giant stuffed animal. She walks over to the desk, where three books rest, and returns with one in her hands. She hands it over, and Enid can’t help but take it with the utmost reverence. “I suggest the nook or the bear; the chair is custom-made, so I doubt you’ll feel comfortable in it.”

Enid nods, not even registering the words for a few seconds. When she does, she looks up from the book with wide eyes. “Huh?”

“Reading. I suggest the reading nook or the bear.” Wednesday pauses and fiddles with the edge of her shirt. “I would like you to read it now, I’d like to know your opinion. I'll bring some refreshments.”

And with that, she leaves Enid alone in what almost feels like sacred land. She blinks dazedly for a second, but then what’s going on catches up to her and she squeals like a child at the candy store, clutching the book to her chest and bouncing over to the ginormous teddy bear. She gets situated against its chest, the arms and legs cradling, and starts reading.

As Viper dodges another fist, two main thoughts battle for power in her mind: Im definitely not getting paid enough for this and, steadily gaining the upper hand, how the hell did I get here?

Chapter Text

Enid blinks repeatedly, trying to bring the words in front of her into focus, but no matter how many times she blinks and rubs her eyes, they remain stubbornly blurry. Looks like she’s done reading for today. She looks up and starts when she looks out the reading nook’s window and sees it’s dark out. She straightens out of her slouched position against the giant bear (who she has named Beckett– Becky for short), her back cracking concerningly loud with the movement, and looks around. There’s a tray with an empty plate and glass next to her, and she vaguely remembers scarfing down a couple of sandwiches and a glass of tangerine juice while holding the book as far as her eyes permitted to keep reading.

The book is… she has no words. She’s almost done with it and she… yeah, no words. She feels so honored, really. It’s… overwhelming, to have a character based on her be so incredibly amazing. Is that how Wednesday sees her? The book is written from Viper’s perspective, not in first person but you’re privy to her thoughts, and although she started mostly ambivalent towards Selene, at the point where Enid has been forced to stop she regards her as a close friend and confidante she respects and appreciates greatly, and Enid has been caching the undertones of much deeper feelings from the detective.

She wonders if…

“I see you’ve finally resurfaced. Have you finished it?” Enid turns towards the door and see’s Wednesday there holding a steaming plate and a glass of water.

“Not really… my eyes have betrayed me, I can’t read anymore,” 

“In that case, let’s eat in the dining room, shall we?” Enid nods and gets up, only to fall immediately on her ass when the numbness in her legs makes its presence known. Wednesday blinks down at her for a second before huffing a little snort and stepping forward, balancing the tray in one hand and offering the other one to Enid.

They walk together through the halls in silence, hands still linked, and Wednesday sets the tray down before helping Enid into a chair and taking the one next to her. She pushes the tray over and Enid scarfs down the tofu stirfry.

“Aren’t you eating?”

“I ate an hour and a half ago.”

“Wait… what time is it?”

“Almost eleven.”

“What?!” Enid jumps, her chopsticks clattering on the table. She just then registers that Wednesday has changed into something incredibly soft looking. She doesn’t really know what, her eyes are starting to hurt and so is her head. She just spent the last six hours reading –apparently– and it’s certainly catching up to her. “Oh, Goddess, Wednesday I’m so sorry! I hadn’t even realized it was so late!”

“Do not fret, Enid. If I wanted you gone I would’ve told you. Sit, finish your meal.”

She does so, slowly. She can’t believe she just went on a six-hour-long binge session. Ok, that’s a lie. She’s spent much longer reading nonstop than six hours before. Coincidentally it had been all with Wednesday’s books  –not really a coincidence, she really is an absolute genius–; what she can’t believe is that she did it in Wednesday’s house. She retakes her chopsticks and starts eating once more under Wednesday’s attentive gaze.

“It’s really good,” she murmurs after swallowing. She gives the other woman a small, unsure smile. “I really am sorry I just zoned out like that; we were supposed to spend some time together, and I didn’t mean to make you put up with me for so long.”

“As I’ve told you many times, I enjoy your company and I do not, as you say, put up with you. And you’ll be able to make up for ignoring me for six hours another time; I’m taking it as a compliment towards my work, that you find it so enchanting that you’re unable to stop reading, even when taking care of your ablutions.”

Enid hums, nodding her head slowly as she savors another bite of delightfully seasoned tofu and veggies.  She moves the little cubes around her plate, and makes a little pyramid in the center, arranging the vegetables around it. “I was wondering…” she murmurs as she carefully moves the peppers around the plate. “Is Selene…? I mean, she’s kinda… uh…”

“Like you?” Wednesday interjects, raising a brow at Enid’s construction. “Do not play with your food, Enid.” Enid snorts and nods once more before grabbing the top cube with the chopsticks and popping it into her mouth. “Yes, I took your advice to write something completely different from what I usually write, and I ended up creating her in a little story. I started with a basic outline and then she became an entire character. I didn’t want her to go to waste, so I put her in the new book and she just… works so well with Viper.”

Enid stares, a slice of red bell pepper held aloft in her chopsticks halfway to her mouth. Wednesday isn’t looking at her, eyes glued somewhere to the side, and there’s a very prominent, incredibly visible blush blooming along her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. It makes her freckles pop. Enid feels like Wednesday is trying to say something without saying it. Which is incredibly out of character of her and kinda worries Enid a little bit. But then again Wednesday is an incredibly private person, and she doesn’t really enjoy talking about her feelings. 

She pops the pepper in her mouth and chews. “Yeah, they were really cute together. I got the vibe that they have a really special relationship.” like us, she adds in her mind, thinking back to everything they’ve shared with each other. Whoever said that meaningful relationships can’t be built on the internet clearly never experienced just how easy it is to share and open up with someone with the added protection of a screen, especially for someone as reclusive as Wednesday. Enid often wonders just how their relationship would’ve developed if they hadn’t met the way they had.

“Yes. Selene has become incredibly special to Viper. Viper has become… dependent on her, in a way; she has given Viper a lot of things she never thought she needed or wanted, and has taught her a lot of things she never thought to learn. She makes her want to… change, in a way, so she can be better for her.” Wednesday’s voice is softer than Enid’s ever heard it.

“What if Selene doesn’t want Viper to change? What if she thinks she’s perfectly fine as she is?” Wednesday’s eyes snap back toward her, and Enid finds herself drowning in those dark pools. Her blush seems to recede, but it’s still incredibly prominent beneath that alluring trail of freckles across her cheekbones. When she looks away, Enid wants to shout at them to come back.

“Are you done eating?” The question snaps her out of the little haze she’s in, a combination of weariness, contentment from the food and the fluttery feeling Wednesday gives her. She looks down at her plate and yep, all done. She drinks her water and nods. “Excellent. Come, I’ll show you to your room,”

It takes her around a full minute to process those words, and they’re halfway up the stairs, dishes loaded into the dishwasher when she finally understands what is happening. “Wait, Wednesday, I don’t want to impose anymore, I can go, it’s fine.”

“You will do no such thing; it’s almost midnight, and you’re exhausted. I already prepared the room.” Enid hesitates, and when she stops in the middle of the hallway to look back down, reticent to take advantage of Wednesday’s hospitality –even though it’s being given freely–,  Wednesday steps to her side and takes her hand. “Enid, I truly don’t feel comfortable letting you return home this late. Please, stay.” 

And what can she do other than nod?

Wednesday guides her into a spacious room, with a queen-sized bed made with soft, silky-looking sheets in a dark crimson. Everything soft looking and cozy, exactly what she’s come to expect from Wednesday’s home. Wednesday drops her hand and steps back.

“I’ll leave you to it. I left you some of my sleep clothes on the bed; they used to be my father’s so they’ll fit you nicely.”

“Are you saying I’m big?” she tries to put up an offended front, but the smirk and the laughter slip through the cracks. Wednesday raises a brow and gives her a look, so she’s definitely onto her.

“No, I’m saying you’re bigger than me. Good night, have pleasant nightmares. I have some errands to run tomorrow morning, so make sure you finish the book and you can tell me your thoughts when we have lunch.”

And with that, Wednesday closes the door, and Enid is left alone in a lavish spare bedroom in her idol’s house and about to put on her idol’s clothes. She’s ok, she’s not panicking and she’s definitely not going to do any creepy shit like smell the clothes.

She changes into the massive shirt that falls halfway to her thighs –so it must reach Wednesday’s knees and the mental image that thought produces is just too much for the mush that is her brain–, puts on the shorts and gets into the bed. They’re cool and soft and the pillows are incredibly fluffy.

It’s not until she’s almost asleep that she realizes Wednesday never answered her question.

The beeping of the heart monitor fills the hospital room and it grates on her ears, but the knowledge that her heart still beats steadily even after everything is incredibly comforting, and there’s no way she’s leaving Selene’s side. Not again. Viper clenches her fists at her sides, the left one tightening around the handle of Selene’s ‘mani-pedi’ kit, as she always says. One last deep breath that only brings in disinfectant and soap instead of the sweet, woodsy cloud that always surrounds and follows the werewolf around, and she takes a seat in the chair pressed against the hospital bed.

She takes one last look at Selene’s bandaged face and rests the kit on her lap before redirecting her attention to Selene’s hands. The nails are a mess, and in the five months she’s known the rainbow wolf, she has never seen them less than perfect. It makes something claw at the back of her head, some kind of dissonance that somehow makes the situation a hundred times worse. Selene would’ve never have let her nails get this bad. There’s blood still caked beneath them, the polish is chipped –almost gone in a few nails– and there are even a couple of broken and jagged ones.

Breathing in deep, Viper brings forth all the memories she has of Selene doing her nails and talking about manicures, and gets to work: cleaning the grime and removing the nail polish, trimming the nails so they’re all the same length and shaping them with a file to make sure there are no sharp edges. She puts down a white coat on all the nails, then paints each a different color, making sure they don clash, and finally a clear coat. There are a few smudges, but after a few careful swabs with a qtip those are wiped away.

She packs all the polish bottles away, and then carefully applies the moisturizer cream that smells like flowers to Selene’s hands, carefully massaging it in and deftly avoiding the IV lines that slowly provide the werewolf with new blood and fluids. Once she’s done, she meticulously packs everything away and sets the kit down. She rests her hand next to Selene’s on the bed, but it’s not enough, and so she carefully takes it, bringing her other hand to cradle Selene’s between hers.

“Nothing will harm you again, Selene. Do you hear me, you stubborn wolf? Nothing. You’re not allowed to leave me.” Viper closes her eyes, and raises her hands until she can bend her head slightly and press her forehead against the back of Selene’s fingers. “I will remain by your side forevermore. I swear it.”

Eyes closed, Viper doesn’t notice the faint blue light that shines beneath her skin right where her heart rests, cradled between her lungs and protected by her ribs.

“I swear it.”

Enid sniffs and wipes at her eyes before the tears can fall. For how much Wednesday represses her emotions, she sure knows how to punch right where it hurts. Selene almost dying to protect Viper a chapter away from the ending is just the kind of thing she’d do to make sure she leaves as many readers as scarred as possible and wanting for more.

“Wednesday, you bitch,” she laughs, a little hiccup escaping right after. She flips the page to see the illustration Wednesday always adds at the ending to hint at what will happen in the next book, but finds herself with a white page, with a single sentence right in the middle.

To my new muse, thank you for helping me fall in love with writing all over again.

And then, right at the bottom edge, written in blue pen, the words and for allowing me to experience what falling in love with someone feels like. 

Oh.

Nope. No, she’s not crying today. Rubbing her eyes vigorously with one arm, Enid presses the book to her chest and curls into Becky, the teddy bear’s soft, worn fur soaking up the few stray tears that escape her brutish arm. Enid isn’t stupid; even if Wednesday hadn’t all but told her that she was the reason she was able to write this book, Viper is obviously Wednesday, and her falling in love with the character that she based on Enid isn’t exactly subtle. That, paired with the actual feels from the book and the dedication at the end.

Yeah, too many feels for poor Enid.

The lock of the front door clicks, and Enid is off the dog bed before she can fully register the sound, the book falling with a soft thud on the pillowy surface. She sprints out of the room and down the stairs, and practically tackles a very surprised Wednesday, who hesitates for a second before embracing Enid back.

“You– I– you’re– but it’s–” she whines, every word fleeing her grasp, and resorts to pressing her face into the crook between Wednesday’s neck and shoulders.

“I take it you finished the book?” Enid squeaks, and nods against the warm skin pressed against her face. “Did you see my note?” Another squeak, another nod. “Does this mean you return my feelings?” multiple squeaks, vigorous nodding. Wednesday almost deflates, Enid just then noticing just how tense Wednesday had been. She tightens her arms around the author. “Enid?” Enid hums a questioning sound. “Are you going to hide down there all day? Do not get me wrong, I’m not opposed to it, but it is somewhat impossible to kiss you if you hide your face into my neck.”

Enid’s head springs up so fast she almost clips Wednesday’s nose, but the shorter woman has no chance to mock her or complain before Enid is cradling her cheeks and their lips are pressed together in an intense, intimate dance that will take them countless moments to complete.

Chapter Text

“I am not killing the wolves!” Wednesday proclaims as heatedly as she’s able, which means her tone is only slightly tenser and volume a little higher than usual. Enid grins at the screen and has to fight the urge to go to her girlfriend’s writing room and cuddle her to death. It hadn’t taken her fans long to figure things out when Sapphire Blood: A Viper de la Muerte Mystery had dropped a week before Christmas Day, but only Wednesday’s family is aware of their recent move to a little cabin in a sizable piece of land, and not even they know about Enid’s new piece of jewelry currently hanging from a chain underneath her stolen sweater, both preferring to bask in it for a few weeks before informing Wednesday’s overly enthusiastic parents. 

The property used to be a farm, but the soil had been so utterly exploited that not even crops designed for poor soil took root, so the farmer had decided to split the land into four ten-acre pieces and sell. The Addams Family had bought all four decades before, and once the couple started talking about moving together, Gomez had insisted on giving them one of the plots to do as they pleased.

Enid had been ecstatic. Wednesday had immediately pointed out that the land was only a thirty-minute car ride away from the family home and this was a barely concealed ploy to have them move closer. Then Enid had given her a pouty look, and Wednesday had sighed and asked when they could meet to sign the paperwork.

In a few short months, a fence had been erected around the plot, and a house was constructed during the following year. The plot was the closest one to the nearby town, so they were only a ten-minute drive away for grocery runs and other necessities. The family, at the moment of acquirement, had made sure to have the plots seeded with nitrogen-fixing and soil-improving plants, and now a young forest took over most of the land, but that was fine with them. After years of living in the city, Enid –as long as she retained a speedy internet connection– was happy to live amongst nature, and the more calm and sedated pace of the sleepy town suited Wednesday just fine.

They had also decided to adopt a veritable menagerie of animals from the nearby shelter, nearly all of them old, disabled, or deemed ‘aggressive’ and thus a hard sell for most people. One of the five rooms, the biggest one previously reserved for Wednesday’s writing room, had been transformed into the Fur Room (as Enid called it), with a doggy door to the outside, cat trees and platforms around the walls, and dozens of toys and beds. 

In total, they had taken in seven cats and five dogs: six of the cats were at least ten years old, and a five-year-old with ‘behavioral issues’; two of the dogs were well into their senior years, one also with behavior problems, a blind one and the last one a three-legged puppy with patchy fur from a house fire. Her family had surrendered her because she ‘wasn’t cute anymore’. Enid had cried when she’d seen her and cradled her close to her chest the entire ride home.

The ‘aggressive’ ones had been kept separate at the beginning to ensure the safety of the rest of their pack/pride, but they soon realized these animals were not aggressive at all and just needed to have their space and independence respected.

“They’re you, basically,” Enid teased at one point while they watched Kody, the ‘aggressive’ terrier mix, bare his teeth at Alexandra (Alex for short) when the collie got too close but made no move to attack. Wednesday hummed distractedly, content to keep brushing a purring Cleo to retort to her girlfriend’s cheeky comment. Heather, the ‘problematic’ Siamese, was curled up on a platform away from everyone, giving the entire room the most judgemental look Enid had ever seen. Still, as long as her space was respected, she could be downright cuddly in the right setting. Again, just like Wednesday.

“But that’s the assignment , Addams! Why do you always have to be so difficult?!” Bianca’s outraged cry brings her out of her musings, and just in time too, because just a second later she hears Hope’s little whimper, and she looks down to see her baby giving her the puppyest of puppy eyes. She coos at her and brings her up to her lap. She’s just been to the groomer, so her fur is short, and she’s wearing a little black shirt with a pink skull on the back to protect her naked patches.

GiddyB¡tch: OUR BABY!!!! 😍😍😍😍

FluffOff: shes gotten so big!!!!

“She’s like… four kilos now. That’s as much as she’s growing. I rather like her like this, teeny tiny and perfectly lap-sized,” Enid says, completely ignoring Wednesday and Bianca bickering in the background. Hope yawns and snuffles at the computer. Enid taps at the little square on her main screen that shows Wednesday and Hope’s tail starts wagging.

Yirigusss: sleepy pupper

WhyBother: how long do you think we can prolong this spat so we can get more Hope footage?

WKS_Forever: cute doggo! So… which of the chicks is the girlfriend?

FluffOff: LOL you must be REEEEEAAAAALYYYY new here

BubblyBoo: New meat detected!

DuskSesame: Babe, what rock have you been living under that you don’t know who’s Enid’s girl???

Enid snickers looking between her main screen, where a Discord video call between Yoko, Divina, Eugene, Wednesday, Bianca, Kent, and herself is set up, and the secondary one where the chat whizzes by. Yoko and Divina are looking down at their phones, most likely texting each other, Eugene looks from one side to the other (Enid assumes watching Wednesday and Bianca like they’re in a tennis match) and Kent is dozing off. She looks at the title of the stream: ‘D&Ding with the GF and the Gang!’

“Guys! Guys, stop fighting! Someone in chat just asked me who my girlfriend is!”

Everything stops. Everyone looks up at their screens, and then Yoko starts cackling.

“Oh my God! No one tell them! Let’s see if they figure it out on their own!”

“It is not that strange if you don’t know who is who,” Wednesday says, and Enid takes note of the way she makes sure not to mention anything about either of them. She doesn’t know what’s weirder: Wednesday defending someone or having her play along with one of their little games. “That is not the issue at hand, we are not killing those wolves and that’s final. I will cast freezing spells on all of you if I have to.”

Bianca, in a fit of exasperation, throws her hands into the air and spins her chair around, getting up and stomping away.

FluffOff: RIP Bianca’s sanity.

“What if we talk to them?” Says Kent out of the blue, eyes droopy and lost off to the side. Yoko facepalms, Divina blinks and Eugene tilts his head to the side.

“What?”

BubblyBoo: Bro, whut?

WhyBother: is he high?

Bubbline_1_Shipper: I think he’s sleepy 😴 

“Kent, did you hit your head again?” Divina sounds slightly worried.

“The wolves… what if we talked to them?” He continues, almost like he hasn’t heard the rest of them. Enid raises a brow and looks at Wednesday, ready to stop her from verbally obliterating the poor man, but her girlfriend looks… intrigued?

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Kent might be onto something…” she murmurs, and then she looks down at her notes, rifling through her papers.

“Oh Goddess, the apocalypse is coming!” Shouts Yoko, slapping her hands onto her cheeks and dragging them down. Enid giggles.

“You look like the scream emoji,”

Jeans-Suck: Yoko rn: 😱😱😱

GiddyB¡tch: I had to go feed the gremlin, what happened?!?!

DFG23: HEY HEY HEY!!! Long time no see!!! How’s it going????

“Hi, DFG! Haven’t seen you in a while! All good, just adopted a bunch of babies! This is Hope!” She points down at the little head napping on her table, barely visible on the screen. There’s a flurry of heart emojis on the chat. “Maybe next stream I’ll get the GF to help me wrangle them to introduce them all. Also, don’t say who she is, there’s a newcomer here who doesn’t know who she is so we’re seeing how long it takes them to figure it out. Oh, and Wednesday agreed with Kent on something, Giddy, that’s why Yoko’s going bananas.”

GiddyB¡tch: oh. Yeah, she’s right. The world is going to end soon.

“Someone get the queen of drama back here, we’re going to need her to do this correctly,” Wednesday suddenly announces, not looking up from her papers until a scratching sound comes from her feed, and the author looks down. “What do you want, old man?” A disgruntled mmrrowr . Wednesday hums the corner of her lips tugging upwards slightly.

FluffOff: wtf when did she get a cat?!?!

Gussiggusss: SHOW US THE KITTY CAT!!!!

DuskSesame: is no one going to mention how Wednesday says queen of drama instead of drama queen???

“I can’t play with you right now, I’m in the middle of a campaign,” she murmurs, leaning down slightly, one hand disappearing under the table. Another little mewl, followed by a huff. “Contrary to what you may believe, I don’t exist to serve you, you know?” An indignant yowl.

“Just plop him on your lap, Addams, and tell us the plan. Bianca will be back in a second,” pipes Yoko, finally looking up from her phone.

Enid grins as Wednesday rolls her eyes but does as told, reaching down and hauling Prince Fuzzy up from the floor. He’s the oldest –and clingiest– of their cats, a toothless twenty-year-old tuxedo that’s blind in one eye and loves belly rubs. She drapes him on his back over her right arm and starts drawing slow circles over his fuzzy tummy with her left hand.

Enid’s chat explodes.

“The chat is having a meltdown over Fuzzy,” Enid giggles. Eugene chokes on a sip of prune juice, coughing violently into his elbow. The chat also seems to be having a similar reaction, with numerous ‘FUZZY?!?!?’s flying around in between the flood of heart emojis.

“You named your cat Fuzzy , Addams?” Yoko teases, sticking her tongue out when the author scowls at her.

“His full name is Prince Fuzzy Paws of Fluffyland the Fourth if you must know. According to the shelter, he was named by a five-year-old and was surrendered by the parents when the boy went away to college,” Wednesday quickly responds, stopping her ministrations to shuffle through her notes. Fuzzy meows, “What?” He paws at the air, meowing again. “No, I need at least one hand. Go to sleep and stop bothering me.”

“So sweet, Wednesday, you weren’t even saying it to me and I’m swooning,” snarks Bianca, finally back from wherever she’d gone to have her little hissy fit.

“Good, you’re back from your tantrum. Kent had a good idea for once and we’re going to need your songs to pull it off.”

And while Wednesday begins explaining how they’ll befriend/tame the wolves Enid watches her chat lose their collective minds. And then a comment catches her eyes.

WhyBother: Am I crazy or would “Prince Fuzzy Paws of Fluffyland the Fourth” + kitten face make for an AMAZING shirt?!?!

Chapter Text

“Okay, we’re live... Are we live?” The camera shakes, Enid’s face coming in and out of focus and frame as she adjusts it.

“Yes, there’s a few comments already saying hi,” Wednesday’s voice comes from the side, and Enid steps back, looking over. The short author appears with Enid’s colorful iPad in hand and a Sphinx kitten peeking over her shoulder from her hoodie.

(Thing is the newest addition to their Pride. He walks with a limp from a poorly formed paw –the surgery’s already scheduled to correct it– and is covered in scars from a fight with a feral cat, but he’s a really tough cookie and doesn’t let anything stop him from doing whatever he wants. He’s practically Wednesday’s shadow, refusing to leave her side for long. She puts up an annoyed front, but Enid has noticed how she walks slower so she doesn’t leave him behind and crouches down so he doesn’t struggle to climb her to reach her shoulders.)

“His name is Thing, we found him around the dumpsters behind the grocery store,” Wednesday adds, looking up from the tablet to the camera. Enid peeks over her shoulder and promptly bursts out laughing.

“His name is Thing because he was absolutely filthy when we found him, covered in blood and garbage and mud. We didn’t even know what he was and I was like, ‘What’s that thing?!’, and it kinda stuck,” she smiles down at the kitten, blowing him a kiss. He purrs and blinks slowly at her. “He’s such a sweetheart, aren’t you, baby? He’s also the biggest mama’s boy you’ll ever find, he can’t be away from Willa for more than an hour before he gets all mopey,”

Wednesday scoffs and then rolls her eyes when she sees the iPad screen. “Let’s get this over with, I have to get dinner started soon.”

“Oh, are you making coca de recapte?” Enid’s eyes sparkle, and she squeals when Wednesday nods. “Hell yeah! Ok, no goofing off, let’s get started. So, I said on a D&D stream a few weeks ago that I’d introduce you all to our pack and pride. Also, this is an announcement stream: Wednesday and I are living together, I will not answer questions, let’s get started shall we?”

“The chat is reveling against your tyranny. They demand at least… five questions.” Wednesday sounds both exasperated and amused at the same time, and she looks up at Enid with a raised brow. The blonde groans dramatically and pouts at the camera.

“Okay, fine ! Three questions of Wednesday’s choosing, then the fur babies, and then you’re all out cause Wednesday is gonna go slave at the kitchen for me,” she points at the camera and scowls, “And no more reveling against my dictatorship or this stream ends right now and you lose the chance to meet our gremlins,”

“You’re utterly shameless,” Wednesday murmurs after an amused huff. She taps at the iPad, swiping up and down. “One: How long have we been living together?”

“Uhh… Well, depends,” she giggles and waves a hand back and forth, “At this place, about seven months or so, but I moved in with Willa at her townhouse back when my lease expired so…”

“About a year and a half she’s been eating my food and stealing my clothes,” grouses Wednesday good-naturedly, looking pointedly at the baggy, knitted gray sweater the blonde is wearing. 

Enid snorts. “I’ve been doing that for as long as we’ve been together, babe, it didn’t start when we moved in together.”

“It certainly got worse,” she teases and gets an elbow to her ribs for her troubles. “Anyway, second question… house or apartment?”

“House! We had it built to our liking with a writing room, streaming room, pet room, and a big ass kitchen. I even got a little reading nook in the living room facing the forest on the property. We’ll show you the Fur Room but the rest is just for us, so no asking for a tour,” she gives the camera a teasing glare and a warning finger.

“They’re already crying.” Wednesday murmurs, sounding incredibly amused as she watches the iPad screen. “Last question: exactly how many animals do you have?”

“That’s not a house question,”

“No, but the rest are overly invasive,”

“What?” Enid looks alarmed and peeks at the iPad for a few moments before giving Wednesday a deadpan look, “those are just normal questions, Willa,”

“Yes, but answering them would make it far too easy to find us and I enjoy our privacy. So, how many?”

“Okay, true. So… we started off with seven cats and five dogs, but we got this little rascal about a month ago,” she wiggles her fingers in front of Thing’s nose and the kitten tries to bat at it with a paw, “and two orphan newborn puppies about three months ago, so we’re up to eight cats and seven dogs. FYI, do not adopt newborn puppies if you value sleep, we had to feed them every three hours ! Like, it was definitely worth it but so fucking exhausting! Anyway, let’s go meet them all!”

Enid skips over to the camera, yanking it from the tripod stand, and presses it to her chest. Everything her viewers can see for a full minute is darkness, and then the camera is handed off, Enid’s face appearing with a big, proud grin before she steps aside and the room is revealed. It’s a big space, hardwood floors peeking from beneath multiple plush rugs and beds, from pillow and cot types to domed and tiny sofas. Then there’s the veritable multitude of ramps, platforms, and scratching posts for the cats, and the dog exercise course that can be seen through the floor-to-ceiling window that spans one of the walls. A few dogs can be seen playing on it or lying around.

Their presence is promptly noticed, and they’re soon surrounded by meowing cats and whining dogs, with a few of the more calm ones waiting patiently with wagging tails and slow-blinking eyes.

“Oh, yes! Hello! Hello, my babies! Yes, yes, I know, we’re so mean for closing the door, how will you ever forgive us? I promise I’ll play with you all later, mommy’s working right now. Shoo now,” with a few last pets, Enid rises from the floor and turns back to the camera. “Okay, let’s start with the cats, some of the dogs are outside so it’ll be easier. Let’s see… Oh, there she is!” Enid points and the camera turns. They advance toward the tallest cat tower, and the camera zeroes in a Siamese cat that’s watching them with narrowed eyes. “This is Heather, she’s five years old and really independent; she was surrendered for ‘aggressive behavior’, but she was just trying to get away from unwanted interaction, so if you let her come to you when she wants to, she’s the sweetest,” Enid offers her a finger. Heather sniffs it, but then shifts away from the edge of the platform and against the wall. “She’s not feeling social today; don’t worry, sweetie, we won’t bother you. 

“Next then. Oh, your Highness, so gracious of you to offer yourself as the next sacrifice!” Enid leans down and scoops a cat from the floor. She grins once more at the camera and presents the old tuxedo cat. “You’ve already met him, but we’d be remiss to leave him out. For those that weren’t at the D&D stream, this is Prince Fuzzy Paws of Fluffyland the Fourth, he’s twenty and was given away because the kid went away to college and he was old. Jokes on them, though, cause this old man is perfectly healthy and the vet says he’ll be with us for at least a couple more years.” She cuddles him close and nuzzles his little face. The camera easily picks up the loud purr.

“He’s blind in one eye and has no teeth, Enid,” Wednesday points out from behind the camera. The blond pouts at her.

“So he slams against walls sometimes and we have to prepare him special food, whatever. Everything else is working perfectly . Okay, next!” with one last forehead kiss, Prince Fuzzy is returned to the ground and a new cat appears, a calico munchkin with vivid blue eyes that stares curiously at the camera. “This is Misty, or Mini Houdini, 'cause she always manages to get into places she shouldn’t be able to,”

“Like the top of the fridge or a locked cabinet,” Wednesday supplies, sounding absolutely exasperated.

“Yeah, she’s too smart for her own good. We have an entire shelf of puzzle toys just for her. Anyway, she’s about seventeen and she was just dropped off at the shelter overnight in a box, so we don’t know why she was given away,” Like with Fuzzy, she presses a kiss between Misty’s ears and returns her to the ground.

And so they work through the entire pride, introducing the remaining five cats –Roxie the red tabby, Bobo the Scottish fold, Arturo the ragdoll, Cleopatra the black cat, and Thing the Sphynx– before moving on to the dogs.

“Well, you all know Hope, but here she is again!” Enid presents the tiny, three-legged terror, dressed today in a black and blue checkered sweater. “Morticia knitted this for her, isn’t it adorable? She destroyed my favorite slippers yesterday so I’m a little mad at her, but it’s so hard to stay mad when she’s so Goddess-damned cute. Our newest puppies are napping over there,” she points, and the camera moves, approaching a little, fenced-in area. They peek over it and see two little balls of fur, one blue and one orange. “That’s Bluey and that’s Bingo, they’re the puppies I mentioned before, Australian Heelers,” the camera moves back to Enid, who winks at the camera and scrunches her nose, her tongue peeking through her lips. “I couldn’t help myself when I saw them. The rest are outside now, let’s go,” 

They walk over to the door that leads over to the deck, and then down, turning the corner to the fenced-in yard for when they want to keep everyone close by and not traipsing through the entire property. Watching over the yards from the top of the stairs is a little terrier mix that slowly wags his tail when he sees them but doesn’t move, tensing a little when they approach and only relaxing when Enid shushes him gently and they walk past him and down the stairs.

“That’s Kody, the ‘aggressive’ dog we adopted; just like Heather, he prefers to be by himself, but he was abused briefly before the previous owners surrendered him so he’s much more guarded,” Wednesday explains before Enid can, voice tight and low.

“Yeah, we’re working on him but it’s a slow process. He used to growl and show his teeth if you got within five meters of him, but he’s calmer now. We’re showing him that his wishes will be respected this time and that he won’t be punished for establishing boundaries, but again, it takes time,” Enid adds, smiling sadly at the camera. She drops Hope to the ground and sits on the bottom step. “Let’s see… the big one over there,” she points, and the camera pans over, zooming in on a massive Great Pyrenees lounging on the shade of the single tree in the yard, “that’s Bear, he was a working dog until he got too old to keep up with the herd. The shelter named him cause his previous owners never bothered to. That house over there is for him, he doesn’t really like going into the house so we had it built for him and anyone else who prefers to sleep outside. Oh, let’s do Blanquita,”

In unison, Enid and Wednesday whistle a tune: two low notes, a high one, and then a medium one. A white head shoots up from between the blades of grass, head turning every which way. They whistle again, keeping it up as the pitbull zeroes in on them and trots over, tail wagging so hard her hindquarters swing with it. The camera jostles, moving over to the side, and Wednesday comes into frame, one hand extended and fingers snapping. It takes the dog a second, but she’s soon pressing her head against the hand and is guided closer. She practically climbs into Wednesday’s lap, pressing her head close to her chest.

“This is Blanquita, she has albinism and was born blind. The breeder chose the wrong shelter to put her down in and he was reported for unethical breeding. She was nearly two when we adopted her,” she explains, carefully cradling the wide head close, allowing the camera to catch sight of the soulful, milky-blue eyes.

“She’s more bonded to Wednesday than me, that’s why she’s the one introducing her,” Enid comments, moving her iPad so it rests on her lap, “She’s much calmer and her heart is always steady, so she calms her down. Like, don’t get me wrong, she’s still my baby and we play plenty together, but she has a deeper connection with Willa, just like I do with Hope.”

Wednesday finishes up the introductions, pointing at the border collie slowly making her way through the wave poles. “Alexandra, a retired show dog; she was given away by the owner’s kids when he passed away and they didn’t want a dog. The course is mostly for her, but it’s also helpful when we want them all to have some exercise. And that’s everyone, I’ll leave you to finish up while I start on the dough,” Wednesday leans over the camera, and the soft sounds of kissing can be heard for a few seconds before she leans away and gets up, giving Blanquita a soft tap; when the dog presses close, she hooks a finger into the thin purple harness she’s wearing and guides her into the house.

The first thing that Wednesday hears when she opens the door to Enid’s streaming room is the sound of clapping. She has Hope under one arm, Thing on her shoulder, and Blanquita pressed against her leg. They’re back from their trip to the vet and she’d been expecting Enid to be out tiring Alex down, but found the dogs napping in a dog pile under Bear’s tree and the cats high on catnip in the living room.

“Enid?” She calls, and the blonde turns, her already wide smile growing even larger.

“Hey, Willa! How was the vet?”

“Good, we need to increase Thing's ear cleanings to twice a month, Blanquita’s yeast infection is gone and Hope’s spaying appointment is scheduled for next month.” She hands the Maltese mix over and leans down to press a quick kiss on Enid’s lips. “I thought you were going to exercise with Alexandra?”

“Her hip is acting up, so we only got fifteen minutes before she wanted to stop. I put her on the heating wrap and she went to nap with the rest. And the cats wouldn’t let me clean the litter boxes so…”

“You drugged them,” Wednesday’s voice is deadpan, but a smirk tugs at her lips, and Enid giggles, unrepentant.

WhyBother: having to drug your pets to be able to get anything done around the house is the sign that they love to be around you and you’re a good fur parent

Jjuussttiinnee: hi Wednesday!!!

GiddyB¡tch: that vet bill must be high as hell

“What are you watching?”

“Oh! I had an extra hour before we’re supposed to do the D&D sesh with the gang so I started the stream early and just got on YouTube to watch videos. Does this look familiar?” She drags the video backward and stops on a shot that shows a fifteen-year-old Wednesday seated on a plush, red chair, dressed in a black pinstripe tuxedo and a silver tie. The scowl marring her face is the stuff of legends.

“My first Oscars, when I revealed I was the writer behind Viper de la Muerte,” Wednesday murmurs, tilting her head to the side. Blanquita yips and she starts petting her head and ears. “I shouldn’t have let my father choose my outfit, pinstripe has never looked quite right on me.”

Enid gasps, looking genuinely insulted, and dramatically presses her hands to her chest. “How dare you?! That tux looked amazing on you!!! Didn’t it, Bee? Mama looked gorgeous, didn’t she?” Blanquita woofs, turning towards Enid’s voice and stepping towards her, tail wagging hard. Enid cups her head and presses butterfly kisses all over her fuzzy face, deftly avoiding the clumsy tongue that tries to lap at her. “How would you know anyway? You weren’t even born yet, baby!”

Wednesday raises a brow, looks at the camera, and rolls her eyes.

The chat explodes.

Chapter Text

Wednesday ends up staying, taking the extra chair off to the side that’s there specifically for this purpose and Enid backs the video to the beginning after texting the group that they would need to start a little later. It takes them a bit of rearranging to accommodate Hope, Blanquita, Thing, and the ever-demanding Prince Fuzzy, but they manage and soon enough, Enid’s pressing play and the clapping starts once more.

Wednesday regales them with on-set stories while other movies are awarded, how the culture had shocked her at first but after one of her co-stars gave her a rundown of how things worked in the most matter-of-fact way possible (just as she prefers it), she’d been able to navigate everything. It also helped that she held, and still holds, great respect for the director, a no-nonsense Catalan woman who ruled the set with an iron fist. She’d taken to speaking to Wednesday in nothing but Catalan for the entirety of the production, much to some of their coworkers' dismay, which only seemed to encourage the surprisingly mischievous woman. Wednesday had been so impressed with her performance that Mercè had been the director for the following three movies she’d allowed to be made from her books.

“You’ll like her, she’s going to direct Escarcha too, we’re just waiting for an acceptable actress for Agnes’ role and for Vincent to finish shooting for his TV show, and we’ll start,” she informs when Enid expresses her admiration. Enid grins, and then seems to remember something and winces. A quick look at the chat that is currently having an absolute meltdown makes her wince turn into a grimace.

“I think you were supposed to keep that to yourself for a few more weeks,” she murmurs, and Wednesday hums as she blinks at the chat zooming by.

“I believe so, but then again… it’s my movie; what are they going to do, fire me?” she raises an imperious brow and Enid can’t help but snort and lean over for a long kiss.

“Still, Larissa is going to have a stroke when she finds out,”

“Good, she’s far too controlling,”

“Don’t be mean! As if you’d work with any other publisher!” her tone is teasing, but they both know it’s true; if she had to find another publisher who also acted as her agent she’d most likely end up killing them. So Wednesday huffs and returns her gaze to the computer screen.

“I believe Ancestry is next,” she says, and Enid returns her eyes to the computer, nearly bouncing in her seat with her eagerness. Hope yips in her sleep, but doesn’t wake.

They watch as the screen behind the announcer changes, turning black before starting to show Ancestry ’s short clip, a compilation of the best-regarded scenes as well as short commentary of the lead actors and actresses, directors, and producers.

“When the studio approached me to take on this film I was ecstatic,” Mercè says, the director dressed in her usual outfit of cargo pants and an off-the-shoulder sweater. She grins to the person conducting the interview, “I’ve been an avid reader of the saga since the first book came out, and once I heard that a movie adaptation was being made I told my agent that I didn’t care what was offered, if he didn’t take the deal for it he was fired,”

The audience laughs, and Enid giggles with it.

The interview cuts to a shot of Viper in the rain, back to the camera with her head down, two sharp daggers clutched in her hands and dressed in a completely black ensemble of cargo pants and a tank top. The music swells, and just as lightning and thunder reverberate around the room, Viper snaps her head to the side and nails the audience with a truly murderous glare that’s not even remotely diminished by only one eye being visible.

Gimmie: do fear orgasms exist?

WhyBother: I’ve seen the movie about a dozen times and that scene still gives me chills

“It truly was a… novel experience,” Wednesday’s voice sounds over the heavy bass and the pouring rain before it cuts to the interview room, the teenager sat ramrod straight in the plush armchair and dressed in tight jeans and a baggy sweatshirt Enid now knows used to belong to Gomez.

“Had you read the books before you auditioned?” asks the interviewer from behind the camera. Wednesday raises a brow.

“Of course; I was about to play the main character, I thought it important to know her if I was going to become her,”

“Are you a fan then?”

A head tilt, and the screen darkens and transitions to the main fight between Viper and the rogue vampire as Wednesday allows for the tiniest smirk, “You could say that,”

Enid snorts and pauses the video, turning to Wednesday, “You’re a cheeky bitch, you know that? I didn’t even remember that!” she pokes Wednesday’s side, and gets a little bap on her finger, courtesy of Thing, for her troubles.

“What would you have preferred I say? Yes?” Enid stops, thinking, and then snorts again, giving her another poke. This time the one to bat at her hand is Prince Fuzzy. Both cats are curled around each other in Wednesday’s lap, the kitten intermittently grooming his dozing elder. “Go on, play the video, if I have to listen to Bianca whine about us being late I’ll sabotage the campaign.”

Enid sticks her tongue out but does as instructed, and they watch in silence as more clips are played, along with short snippets of several more interviews with the rest of the main cast. As the screen goes black for a final time and the lights brighten, the audience starts clapping, and the camera pans to the section with the Ancestry crew; Wednesday can be seen looking completely unimpressed, but clapping slowly nonetheless. The presenter goes on his spiel, motioning for the crew to take the stage as he starts listing all the Oscar nominations the film received.

“Let’s start with the movie’s awards then, shall we?”

Wednesday scoffs and rolls her eyes, “As if that’s not exactly what you’re supposed to do and have been doing all night…” Enid giggles, but shushes her.

“Ancestry is crowned with: Best Picture!” He pauses for the clapping, “Best Original Score!” Another pause, “and Best Story!” Pause. “If the producer, Music Director, and screenwriter could step forward please!”

Wednesday watches as Iryna Yakivna, the producer she’d approved from Larissa’s recommended list once she’d agreed to turn her book into a movie, the one that had canceled the Viper auditions once Wednesday had performed and hired her right then and there; Igor Brown, the songwriter and orchestra conductor who had produced the soundtrack; and Cousin Vita –the only person she’d trusted to turn her novel into a movie–, who was an acclaimed dramatist and scenarist back in Italy. They all take center stage, accepting the awards and giving short thank yous. Wednesday remembers how Cousin Vita winked at her once she returned to the little huddle everyone had made.

“Did I ever tell you that Vita Frump is my cousin?”

“Wait, what?” Enid exclaims, slapping at the space bar to pause the video as she turns to her girlfriend. “Really?”

“Once removed, she’s my mother’s cousin, but yes. She was one of the stipulations I made when signing the contract; some of the executives protested, but I was adamant and threatened not to sign, as if I’d let just anyone get their grubby mitts on my masterpiece. Cousin Vita is a marvelous dramatist, so I knew she wouldn’t desecrate my work. It also had the added benefit of being able to work alongside her, as she knew I was the author.”

“Huh…” Enid turns back to the screen and squints, eyeing the tall, wispy woman. “She does kinda look like your mom,”

Wednesday hums, and decides to completely ignore the ‘MILF’ comments in the chat.

“On to the cast awards!” the presenter crows once Enid presses play once more. “Best Director, Mercè Lloveras!” they watch as the woman takes the award with careful hands and leans over to the mic for a quick thank you before returning. “Best Supporting Actor, Prakash Jadhav,” The young man, a mere two years older than her, had trotted excitedly over to the podium, accepting the award with an awed face and then delivering a heartfelt thank you in Marathi to his family watching the Oscars live from India. “And finally, Best Actress goes to Wednesday Addams!”

Wednesday watches as the younger her strides forward, face completely devoid of emotion. She remembers how pointless she’d found the entire ceremony, and how meaningless the little statuette was to her in particular, someone who had never aspired to earn it and would never take on a role in a film again unless the rest of her books were adapted for the big screen. She’d accepted it nonetheless and then turned to the microphone.

“It has never been an aspiration of mine to be an actress, but just as many other situations in my life that I had not foreseen or planned for, this happened because my little brother dared me to. And though I hadn’t expected much from it when I walked into that casting room, I find that I have rather enjoyed the experience, so Pugsley, this is going into the joint award shelf,” Young Wednesday says, looking into the camera and waving the statuette slightly. A chorus of awws and bemused clapping before Wednesday looks around the room and allows a barely there smirk to tug at her lips.

“Here it comes!” squeals Enid, wiggling in her seat. The ‘MILF’ comment barrage is changed to a ‘SIMP’ one.

“And just like that fateful afternoon, before I left home to come to this ceremony Pugsley dared me once more, this time to reveal something to everyone. And because I now hold this award in my hands, I believe he has earned his mischief, so I will concede to his request.”

“This is the best part!” Enid interrupts once more, clutching a groggy Hope to her chest.

“Yes, I’m aware, dear,” Wednesday huffs, but she can’t help the tender and fond look in her eyes as she sees how Enid can barely contain her energy.

“Not only am I the actress that has given life to Viper de la Muerte on the big screen, I am also the writer that created her. I’m Viper de la Muerte, the author behind Ancestry ,”

There’s a second of silence as the people in the auditorium process the words, but then there’s absolute chaos. Above it, the voice of the cameraman can be heard whispering an incredulous “Oh, shit!”

Mornings are Enid’s favorite moment of the day, before their menagerie needs attention and Wednesday’s night owl brain is fully online. They keep their bedroom door closed tight to maintain their privacy and prevent interruption of the more… carnal aspects of their relationship by nosy furbabies. As much as they love and adore their pack and pride, their room is theirs alone, and they both like it that way.

Enid watches as the sunlight bathes the room, slightly diffused by their drapes so it almost has an ethereal quality to it. She watches, completely entranced, as Wednesday starts waking up. The first sign is a barely perceptible nose twitch and a little sniff. Then a disgruntled huff and a scrunched brow as the morning light is registered. Then Enid’s absolute favorite part: barely conscious, her girlfriend paws around the bed, seeking her out, and the second she comes in contact with her shirt she yanks herself closer, burying her face into Enid’s neck and curling into her chest. 

Enid then follows what she’s learned will keep Wednesday in this state for as long as possible and curls around her in turn, not uttering a single word, and sneaks a warm hand beneath the author’s shirt to rub soothing circles on her lower back. Her tiny girlfriend hums contently and wiggles even closer, uncurling to be able to twine their legs together and plaster herself against Enid’s front.

And there they stay for some time, not moving, Enid simply enjoying her surprisingly cuddly girlfriend’s barely awake state while looking out the window into their little forest and watching the world wake up. She sees Bear lumbering past the window, most likely doing his little morning patrol, and wonders if he figured out how to open the lock again or if they left the gate open. She knows he’ll be fine as the main gate requires a code and they did a check of the main fence just a few days ago, but they prefer to have everyone in the house or yard during the night to make sure they’re ok. Maybe it’s time they get a lock that requires opposable thumbs for the yard gate too.

Wednesday mumbles something into her neck, and Enid shakes away her musings to lean back a little and look down at the author. The diminutive woman blinks blearily at her, eyes nearly completely closed against the room’s brightness.

“Good morning, Willa,” she murmurs as low as possible. She remembers those first few sleepovers where she’d be so excited she’d squeal loudly or gleefully proclaim her greetings before Wednesday informed her that she needed as little visual and auditory stimuli as possible during the first half hour (more or less) after waking up to avoid early onset overstimulation.

Wednesday grunts and goes back into hiding, and Enid starts raining careful and soft kisses onto her face: along her hairline, temple, and jaw, along her brow and the bridge of her nose, down her cheeks, and over her eyelids before finally pressing languid kisses onto her lips. Her little night owl readily reciprocates, and they spend the following thirty or so minutes before the pride demands their sustenance kissing leisurely and with Enid whispering sweet nothings when Wednesday needs a break from the light and retreats back into the little dark reprive that is Enid’s neck.

Once the cats start up their cries Enid presses one last kiss and abandons the warmth cocoon they’ve made of the sheets, forgoing underwear and instead putting on a pair of shorts, a tank top, and one of Wednesday’s oversized hoodies that practically swallow her diminutive girlfriend but just look slightly baggy on her. She can feel Wednesday’s still sleepy eyes on her ass as she covers her nakedness, and simply swishes her hips slightly as she walks to the door and leaves the room, blocking the door when their little munchkins try to worm their way in.

“Yes yes, good morning!” She murmurs, “It’s breakfast time, isn’t it? Yep, it sure is, let’s go!” She gives a little wiggle as she closes the door behind her and trots over to the kitchen.

As she prepares everyone’s breakfast, she looks out the window and marvels at what her life has become.

And to think it all started with a random World of Warcraft stream.