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Chapter Text

They signed the paperwork at the kitchen table.

It was the kind of morning that felt soft and sleepy: the sunlight filtering through the curtains, a breeze carrying in the scent of toast and laundry detergent. Enid was humming some cheerful k-pop song, barefoot, her hair in a messy half tail, and was wearing pajama shorts covered in cartoon fruit.
Wednesday was sat in a corner, simply watching her and refusing to admit everything Enid was doing, everything she was, made her heart do strange, unpredictable things.

The two of them were - to quote Enid, because Wednesday never said that - besties, and had been roommates for all of their high school years.
That summer that had just passed, anyway, they found themselves closer and closer.
Almost so close they couldn’t even imagine their academic lives without each other.
So, having chosen a college that had both Communication and Horror Literature subjects, they decided to share not anymore a room - categorically refusing to live in a dorm again - but a house.

The landlord, a tall, sandy-haired man, had stopped by that morning, set a stack of printed papers on their kitchen table and left with a thumbs-up and a parting, “Just sign it and then send it back. Everything else is standard. Oh, and congrats again!”
“Congrats?” Enid had said, confused.
“On the house,” he called, already jogging back to his car. “I mean, it's cute! You two are gonna love it here.”
Wednesday had narrowed her eyes at his retreating figure. “I don’t like him”
“You don’t like anyone. Let’s just sign the thing,” Enid said, plopping into a kitchen chair and flipping through the first few pages.

The stack was thick, the formatting atrocious. Enid highlighted a few clauses in pink. Wednesday read the fine print and made a note of one comma splice that offended her personally. Neither of them noticed that somewhere, buried deep in the middle, was a page titled “Form M-162 — Certificate of Marriage”
They didn’t notice it because it wasn’t labeled clearly.
They didn’t notice it because it was wedged between “Terms of Lease” and “Utilities and Billing.”
They didn’t notice it because Enid was making heart doodles in the margins and Wednesday was trying not to think about how badly she wanted to tuck one stray curl behind Enid’s ear.
And so, they signed. At the kitchen table. Together.
And that, legally speaking, was that.

Just a few days later, a plain envelope arrived in the mail.
Wednesday retrieved it, her heart starting to beat unevenly when she saw the state seal.
“Enid,” she said. “Come here. Now.”
Enid padded into the room, sipping orange juice, as Wednesday opened the letter.
She read the first sentence. She read it again.
Then she turned to Enid, very calmly, and said, “Okay, don’t overreact. We’re married.”
Enid blinked. “Huh?”
She passed the letter.
Enid’s brow furrowed, reading aloud, “‘This letter is to confirm the successful filing of Form M-162: Marriage Certificate, as submitted to the Commonwealth of our State.’” She paused. “Wait. What?!”
“There appears to have been a bureaucratic error,” Wednesday said flatly, but her voice betrayed something tight beneath the surface.
“That paperwork we signed… must have included a marriage certificate.”
Enid stared at the page. “No. No, no, no. This has to be a mistake. We didn’t mean to get married! I was wearing pajama shorts!”
Wednesday just looked at her. Pale, still, lips pressed into a line.
“…Wait,” Enid said, eyes snapping to hers. “Are you freaking out?”
“I do not ‘freak out.’”
“You’re pale.”
“I’m always pale.”
“You’re breathing weird.”
“I’m regulating.”
Enid stopped pacing.
They stared at each other, heartbeats loud in the silence. Not quite panic now, but a strange mix with something else. Something hot and soft and impossible to name.

They went to the county office the next morning, dressed in serious clothes and equally serious expressions.
The clerk, a kind-looking woman in reading glasses and a cardigan decorated with little embroidered hearts, took one glance at their paperwork and smiled.
“Oh! I remember processing this one. You’re the two from the joint lease file. So cute! We don’t usually see people your age come in with the house-sharing and the marriage. You two must really be in love.”
Wednesday twitched, Enid smiled a little too widely.
“Right,” Enid said, strained. “About that. It’s… a mistake”
“Oh, sweetheart,” the clerk said gently, “That’s weird. You signed and submitted it yourselves, so I’m afraid it’s binding,” she said. “The only way to dissolve it is through a formal annulment process. But that would take months, and it would cost more than two first year students can imagine, I fear”
As the two of them looked at each other with confused and uncertain expressions, the woman leaned forward slightly. “You know what? You… may want to consider staying married. Married students at local colleges get a lot of benefits. Tuition assistance, housing grants, tax breaks. Oh, and free dental under the state plan.”
Enid blinked. “Wait, seriously?”
“This state is very pro-marriage, I guess” the clerk said cheerfully.
Wednesday said nothing. Enid turned to her, wide-eyed. “Wednesday…”
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re excited.”
“I mean… dental,” Enid said weakly. “And also maybe… fate?”
Wednesday’s mouth parted.
“I didn’t mean fate fate,” Enid rushed on. “I just meant… maybe it’s not the worst accident ever? We already live together, we had for so many years now, it’s not like we’re strangers.
You know how you won’t let me buy garlic in bulk but you still always make pasta with it anyway?”
“I-“
“And you made me tea that one time I got the flu.”
“You nearly died of dehydration.”
“You sat with me all night and read Poe out loud.”
There was a beat of silence, and after that Enid’s voice softened. “I guess I’m saying… if nothing will change... maybe it doesn’t feel like a mistake because it isn’t one?”
Wednesday studied her.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about it before. About what it might be like to love Enid openly, instead of through glances and quiet offerings and holding the umbrella when it rained. But the word “married” felt too sharp in her mouth. Too fragile.
Except… Enid was looking at her like she already belonged there. Not just in the house, but in her life.
“I’m not against it,” Wednesday said carefully.
Enid’s breath caught.
“I mean... staying married,” Wednesday added, more clinical now. “For financial reasons. It would be the rational choice.”
“Right. Totally,” Enid said. “Just practical.”
But her hand brushed Wednesday’s when she turned, and neither of them pulled away.

They kept the certificate in a drawer with the expired coupons and takeout menus.
Neither of them told anyone yet.
That night, Enid made dinner. She called it ‘honeymoon pasta’, then immediately apologized for saying it, but Wednesday didn’t say anything about that.
They ate together in quiet, knees touching under the table.
And later, when Enid fell asleep on the couch with her head on Wednesday’s shoulder, Wednesday stared at the ceiling and wondered if the universe wasn’t so chaotic after all.
Maybe it was just bold.

Chapter Text

The next day, as first thing in the morning, Enid told Yoko about the accidental marriage; but, deep down, she knew she had made a mistake.
Not because Yoko, maybe the person she was closest to after Wednesday of course, could judge her… quite the opposite, actually.
It was because Yoko was desperately trying to get the two “fake wives” to acknowledge that they were in love with each other for years now, and that morning she had suddenly sprinted out of her dorm, managing to get into a craft store that wasn’t even open yet, and was now standing in the living room of their house with a hot-glued glitter banner that read “Just married”.
She had also brought champagne-flavored sparkling water, two plastic tiaras, and a party popper that exploded directly into Wednesday’s unsuspecting lap.

Wednesday looked down at the confetti, then slowly up at Yoko.
“I regret many things,” she said. “Your presence is now one of them.”
“It’s you that got married” Yoko grinned, undeterred. “Marriage calls for confetti.”
“It was an accident,” Wednesday replied. “Much like Enid’s taste in friends”
Yoko glanced at her. “Rude. But also? You two seriously signed marriage papers without noticing? That is so tragically romantic I could cry.”
Enid was blushing behind a glass of sparkling water. “It was just… very confusing paperwork. And a sleepy morning. And-”
“Emotional repression?” Yoko offered.
Enid sputtered. “What? No! We’re best friends, you know that!”
“Best friends who cook together. And share laundry days. And go to the farmer’s market and argue about arugula like you’re seventy and married. Oh no sorry, you are.”
“We don’t argue,” Enid said.
“She always wins,” Wednesday added dramatically, setting down her glass.

“C’mon, have you two looked in a mirror lately? I mean, you’re giving strong newlywed energy.”
Both of them blushed, at the exact same time.
Enid’s hand twitched toward Wednesday’s without thinking - she just grazed her pinky finger. Wednesday didn’t pull away. She never did, these days.
Yoko narrowed her eyes, the kind of friend who could sense when something wasn’t being said.
“Okay, I’ll leave you alone after this, but you guys act married. Like, for real. The way she looks at you when you’re not paying attention?” She pointed at Wednesday. “Terrifying. But also very ‘I would burn down a village for you.’”
“I would do no such thing,” Wednesday said automatically, then paused. “Unless the village had something against her.”
Enid’s cheeks flushed so pink she had to physically hide behind her cup.
“And Enid,” Yoko said, now turning toward her, “you sigh when she enters a room. You know that, right?”
“I do not.”
“You do.”
Wednesday folded her arms. “This conversation is over.”
Yoko stood, taking the empty bottle. “Okay, okay. But don’t come crying to me when you start calling each other ‘my wife’ unironically.”
She started toward the door, then paused dramatically. “Also, I left a casserole dish in your freezer. Wedding gift. You’re welcome.”
And with that, she disappeared, door clicking shut behind her.

There was a long silence in the wake of Yoko’s glittery chaos.
Wednesday stood still, one hand resting on the back of the kitchen chair. Enid was hovering near the sink, avoiding eye contact by rinsing a glass that didn’t need rinsing.
“You sigh when I walk in?” Wednesday asked quietly.
Enid jumped a little. “I- what? No. That’s just my normal breathing pattern. My lungs are…”
Wednesday took a step closer.
Enid turned, and now they were too close, the kind of close that made the air warmer and made you acutely aware of where your hand was and where theirs could be.

“You blush a lot lately,” Wednesday observed.
“I do not,” Enid said.
“You’re doing it now.”
“That’s because…” Enid stopped, not knowing what to say next.
“You’re very pretty.” Wednesday said. Actually, it slipped out before she could stop it.

“I mean, I meant like, objectively” she said, waving her hands. “Statistically. A lot of people would find you pretty. It’s just science.”

“And,” Enid said “would you?”
Wednesday’s breath hitched.
“I suppose I would”

But then, both of them stepped back. The moment broke like a soap bubble - sudden, fragile, and leaving behind too much air.

“I’ll be in the study,” Wednesday said quickly, turning on her heel.
Enid was left in the kitchen, her heart hammering against her ribs like it was trying to say all the things she couldn’t.

Later that night, Enid found Wednesday asleep on the couch, book half-open on her chest.
The banner Yoko had hung earlier still dangled above her, slightly crooked.

Enid gently pulled a blanket over her, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.
“Goodnight… wife,” she whispered with a dumb smile and walked back to her room.
She didn’t see Wednesday’s eyes open just a crack, or the soft, littlest smile that tugged at her lips.

Chapter Text

The married thing was starting to feel dangerously normal.
That morning, for example, Wednesday reached for her coffee and found it already brewed, the way she liked it. Black and slightly burnt.
“Thanks,” she said to her accidental wife, who was already in the kitchen waiting for her. “You really know me.”

“Married perks.” Enid said, grinning.
Wednesday pretended not to smile. She failed.

Later that day, they went grocery shopping.
Not because they needed anything specific, but because they were out of pasta and Enid said it was a “crime against carbs.”
And suddenly, they were arguing in the produce section about whether or not to buy organic.
“We can’t afford it,” Wednesday said, arms crossed.
“We can now,” Enid said. “Remember? Married discounts.”
“We’re scamming people” Wednesday muttered, but placed the overpriced organic spinach into the basket anyway.

The flirting was worse now. Or better, depending on perspective.
Enid called her “wifey” in the cereal aisle and nearly gave Wednesday an aneurysm.
Wednesday retaliated by whispering “my spouse prefers blueberry” to a very confused employee who had just showed her strawberry yogurt.

When they finally were about to pay, they were interrupted at checkout by a loud, familiar voice yelling.

“HEY MARRIED WOMAN, is that you?!”
Enid turned, horrified. “Oh no.”
It was Ajax, with a huge smile and a bouquet of deeply wilted flowers in his hand.
“Enid! You didn’t tell me you got married! I thought we were still on good post-ex vibes!”
“We are!” Enid said quickly. “It was… just a paperwork thing. It’s a long story.”
“So,” Ajax said, turning to Wednesday. “I guess I should congratulate you”
Wednesday blinked. “…Apparently.”
“Duuude,” Ajax said reverently. “Congrats, really. That’s so cool. Love is so cool. I wanna marry someone one day, someone like Xavier.”
Enid coughed. “You said that out loud.”
“Oh, right,” Ajax said. “He doesn’t know yet. But Bianca does, I think she’s cool about it.”
Wednesday gave him a rare look of approval. “I support your emotional honesty.”
Ajax beamed. “Thanks, bro.”
And, with that, he left with a bag of trail mix and a six-pack of sparkling water, two coupons floating behind him like confetti.
“Bro…” Wednesday repeated, disgusted, while Enid was practically dying of laughter.
“Don’t you think you can laugh about it, you used to date that guy.”

Back at the house, Yoko and Divina were waiting on the porch.
“Well, well, well,” Yoko said, hands on her hips. “Look who survived their first married grocery trip. So that’s where you were all morning”

Divina looked towards one of their grocery bags. “Did you guys buy… four types of yogurt?”
Enid shrugged. “It was a tough decision. We’re exploring.”
Yoko leaned into Wednesday. “That’s how it starts. First all of that yogurt, then matching pajamas. Then one of you calls the other ‘honey’ and it’s all over.”
“Don’t you ever be that close to me again” Was all that Wednesday could say, while inside she was thinking about how she was very convinced that Enid had in fact called her “honey” in her sleep last night. Out loud.
And she hadn’t slept well since.

That night, the friend group gathered for a “casual hang” that somehow turned into an intense Mario Kart tournament.
Bianca dominated, Xavier made popcorn, Ajax made heart eyes at him all the time, Yoko curled into Divina’s side like a desperate cat.

And Enid… she fell asleep with her head on Wednesday’s shoulder for the second time that week.
This time, Wednesday didn’t pretend she wasn’t smiling. To be fair, she was pretty drunk, so she just pulled the blanket up higher, let her cheek rest against pink curls, and whispered, barely audible, “Wow, she really is my wife.”
And when Enid mumbled her name in her sleep again, Wednesday didn’t move for a long, long time.

Eventually, someone paused the game to stretch, and Yoko turned toward them both.
“So, wait,” she said, sipping from her soda can. “Which one of you changed your last name?”
Wednesday blinked, looking up from where she had been carefully adjusting the blanket around Enid’s shoulders. “How is that your business?”
“C’mon, you’re the firsts to get married in the group, we wanna know!” Yoko said. “Did you go Addams-Sinclair? Sinclair-Addams? Just Sinclair or Addams? Or are we being radical and choosing a brand-new last name like… Enesday?”
“Weenid,” Divina offered.
Wednesday grimaced like someone had just handed her a kitten made of glitter. “Please don’t ever say those again.”
Enid, who had just been awaked, stirred against Wednesday’s shoulder, eyes still closed. “Oh, didn’t we tell you? I’m Mrs. Addams-Sinclair now”
Yoko howled with laughter, but Wednesday froze. She was ninety percent sure Enid was still half asleep.
Divina leaned in. “So… that’s a yes?”
“No one is changing their last name,” Wednesday said flatly.
“Well, I actually think we could” Enid said, opening her eyes and making Wednesday skip a beat.

“If you had to,” Yoko insisted, “which one would it be?”
There was a long pause.
“I think she’d keep Addams,” Enid mumbled, eyes closed again. “I’d take something like Sinclair-Addams. That’s cute, right?”
Wednesday stared down at her. “You… actually thought about this?”
Enid cracked one eye open. “No.”
“Liar,” Wednesday muttered.
“Wife,” Enid replied, half-asleep and smiling.

Later that night, the house was gone quiet again after the guests left.

“Okay, real talk… should we actually do the last name thing?” Enid appeared from her room to the kitchen.
Wednesday blinked. “What?”
“I’m serious! I was thinking… if we file some kind of name change, it’ll make everything way more streamlined for, like, official records.”
Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “Go on.”
“Like, if I have Sinclair-Addams on my ID, no one asks why I’m married to you. Insurance stuff, registration stuff… financial aid people won’t raise their eyebrows.”

Wednesday crossed her arms. “So your plan is to become legally even more married… to avoid suspicion about being accidentally married.”
“Exactly!”
“…That’s idiotic.”
“But it makes sense,” Enid insisted. “Think about it. One form, one line, boom! They believe we’re a totally normal married couple.”
Wednesday’s lips twitched. “There is nothing normal about us.”
“Then we should at least pretend to be functional.”
Wednesday raised an eyebrow. “And you think claiming a new hybrid surname will make us more functional?”
“I think,” Enid said, tilting her head with mock seriousness, “that I’d like the power of owning a name like Sinclair-Addams, or Addams-Sinclair. It’s got an edge, sounds like a mystery novel heroine.”

Wednesday considered that. “…Fine.”
“Fine?”
“You can add my last name to yours, and I’ll do the same. But only if we put mine first. It would trigger me to have a last name that is not in alphabetical order.”
Enid gasped. “That’s exactly what I imagined you’d say if you ever accepted!”
Wednesday gave her a long, unreadable look. “You imagined being called Mrs. Addams?”
Enid blushed instantly. “No! Yes. Shut up.”
“Too late. You’re caught. Your subconscious is tragically domestic.”
“Your subconscious literally made you put spinach in a basket.”
“That was sarcasm.”

Enid grinned. “Sure it was, wifey.”
Wednesday deadpanned. “Call me that again and I’ll poison the spinach.”
“Stop being that dramatic”

“We’ll look into the name change tomorrow, when we’ll discover if we were too drunk to talk about it tonight” she said briskly, turning away.
“I think we’ll do it, because it’s smart and convenient,” Enid said.
“Exactly. Pure logic.”
They both stood in silence, pretending that was all it was.

Chapter Text

The municipal office smelled like dust and regret to Wednesday.

At the front desk sat a man named Greg, according to both his name tag and his entire energy. He didn’t look up when they approached.
“Name change,” Wednesday said, already exasperated.
“Marriage-related” Enid added cheerfully.
Greg blinked twice, then he handed over a clipboard. “Back corner. Pens probably work.”
They found the one chair in the waiting area and a form that looked like it hadn’t been updated since the Cold War.

“I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” Wednesday said, uncapping the pen.
“We’re already married,” Enid replied. “It’s the logical next step.”
“For… convenience,” Wednesday said.
“Of course, like, super bureaucratic.”

They worked through the form together. At the line that asked “What name will you now legally choose?” Enid filled in “Addams-Sinclair” in her careful, loopy handwriting. Wednesday took the other copy and wrote it in crisp, architectural block letters.
“Wow,” Enid whispered as she signed. “Is this the moment? Are we making it real?”
“We already did,” Wednesday said, and she didn’t quite meet Enid’s eyes when she said it “But yes, now we’re covered if either of us dies under mysterious circumstances.”
Enid blinked. “That’s… horrifying. Also kinda sweet.”

“Two name changes, married. Got it.” Greg scanned the papers, a bit later. “Addams-Sinclair, huh? Fancy.”
“It just flows well,” Wednesday said.
Enid grinned. “Also, if we’re ever in a band, it sounds like we wear capes.”
“You would wear a cape,” Wednesday muttered.

Greg raised an eyebrow but handed them a form confirming the change was processing. “You’ll get official documents in the mail in a few weeks. We can take a photo for the file if you want.”
Wednesday opened her mouth to say no, but unsurprisingly Enid elbowed her gently.
They ended up standing side by side against a faded blue backdrop.
Enid smiled so hard it nearly hurt. Wednesday looked vaguely like she was posing for a mugshot, but the closeness of her shoulder to the one of her accidental wife told a different story.

As they left, Enid glanced down at the receipt form. “Addams-Sinclair. Looks good on paper.”
“Yes. Very serious, very mature, very administrative.”

A pause.
Then Enid asked, not quite casually, “So… if someone wrote us a letter now, would it be addressed to Mrs. and Mrs. Addams-Sinclair?”
Wednesday blinked. “Technically, yes.”

And, when they got home, they did have mail.
The flyer on their doorstep was loud, glittery, and offensive to both of their aesthetic sensibilities.

But still, Enid squealed. “First college party! We have to go!”
“I’d rather crawl into a crypt,” Wednesday said, already trying to throw it out.
“But we’re college students now, we’ll start college in some days… it’s part of the experience! Also, you already legally committed to me, you can’t back out now.”
“…That argument makes no sense” Wednesday muttered.

But when Saturday rolled around, she was wearing her blackest boots and the kind of scowl that could level cities just to accompany her accidental wife.
Enid, for contrast, looked like cotton candy, her cropped rainbow sweater taking compliments from everyone they ran into, while Wednesday pretended not to look.

The party was predictably glittery, noisy and stinky.
There were glow sticks, there was neon punch, there was a guy in a banana costume playing the ukulele, badly.
“I am begging one of you to kill me,” Wednesday muttered as they stepped inside.
Yoko, who had arrived with Divina, linked her arm through Enid’s and announced: “Okay, let’s introduce ourselves before Wednesday goes crazy and curses someone.”
She marched them straight to the hosts, who were mid-discussion about something tragic involving Bluetooth speakers and oat milk.
“Hey!” Yoko interrupted, grinning. “This is my girlfriend Divina, that’s Xavier and his girlfriend Bianca, and that’s Ajax, who’s basically a Labrador with ADHD.”
“Yo!” Ajax said, doing finger guns and almost knocking over a lamp.
“And this,” Yoko said, voice full of mischievous pride “is my friend Enid… and her wife.”
Wednesday froze, and the room went silent.
“WIFE?!” one of the hosts screamed, sloshing punch all over her crop top. “THAT’S SO CUTE. HOW?!”
Enid laughed nervously. “Oh, it was... an accident.”
The crowd loved that.
Someone started a chant - “ACCIDENTAL WIVES! ACCIDENTAL WIVES!” - which Yoko joined way too fast, loving to see Wednesday so bothered by that.

Wednesday leaned close to Enid, her voice low. “If one more person calls me your wifey, I am starting a fire.”
Enid giggled and bumped her shoulder gently against Wednesday’s. “You love it.”
She did. Tragically.

The party moved outside to the backyard, where fairy lights crisscrossed the fence.
Wednesday hated it all, but she stayed.
Enid was laughing, flushed from dancing, a little buzzed from too much to drink and not enough to eat. Her hair sparkled in the light like it had absorbed the glitter of the night itself.
Wednesday couldn’t stop watching her.

Yoko and Divina danced like they were at their own private rave, while Ajax was doing an interpretive routine with a glow stick and narrowly missing Xavier’s head every time.
“Sorry!” Ajax called, for the fourth time.
Xavier just grinned, totally chill.
Bianca leaned against the fence, sipping from a plastic cup, watching Ajax with a smirk. “He’s obsessed with you,” she said to Xavier, like she was pointing out the weather.
“I know,” Xavier said. “I’m flattered. And confused. But mostly flattered.”
Bianca bumped his shoulder. “Just don’t break the puppy’s heart.”
“But I’m with you” Xavier said, looking at her.
“Well, I mean, you’ve got two hands”

Back on the porch, Enid leaned over next to Wednesday, both of them slightly out of breath.
“You having fun?” she asked.
“No.”
“You danced with me for like ten minutes.”
“I was dragged.”
“You smiled,” Enid said. “Twice.”
Wednesday gave her a look. “Once. And it was involuntary.”
Enid laughed and let her head rest on Wednesday’s shoulder. “Still counts.”

There was a beat of silence. The noise of the party faded slightly, just enough to feel like it was just them.
“You know,” Enid said softly, “people keep asking if we’re gonna, like... stay married. I mean, for years”
Wednesday didn’t move.
Enid’s voice was quieter now. “I keep saying it was an accident. But I kind of like it.”
Wednesday turned her head slightly. “Like being legally bound to me for housing discounts?”
“No, like... being your wife.”
“You’re drunk, again” Wednesday said gently.
“I’m not,” Enid whispered. “Just... honest.”

Chapter Text

It was Tuesday, a cursed day by default, and it started with hand-holding.
To be fair, it wasn’t planned.
They were walking back from the bookstore. Wednesday had just acquired a heavily annotated edition of The Postmodern Crypt and Other Romantic Horrors and Enid had declared she was “invested in this marriage,” so of course she went with her.
At some point, Enid had adjusted Wednesday’s slipping bag strap and their fingers brushed and then just... stayed linked. No big declaration, no discussion. Just the two of them walking down the sidewalk with interlaced fingers like it had always been that way.
Neither of them mentioned it then, and also they didn’t let go until they reached their front door.

Later that afternoon, they went over to Divina and Bianca’s dorm room for a catch up.
Ajax was already there, attempting to balance three cookies on his forehead, while Xavier was pretending not to look.
There were some empty seats; Enid looked at them, then at the armchair where Wednesday had just sat down, legs crossed, the physical embodiment of “don’t touch me” aesthetic.
Enid grinned and, without hesitation, she plopped herself down in Wednesday’s lap.
Wednesday didn’t flinch. Not even a blink. Just calmly adjusted Enid so she wasn’t sitting on the corner of her coat and resumed sipping her drink like this was a perfectly ordinary everyday thing.
Everyone stared.
Yoko was the first to say something. “Uhhh, Enid?”
“There weren’t other chairs,” Enid replied innocently, sipping her drink.
“There are literally six,” Xavier said.
Enid shrugged. “This one’s warm.”
Wednesday nodded, deadpan. “She’s heat-seeking, like a lizard.”
Divina blinked. “Am I missing pieces? Are you two... like, actually together now?”
“No” they said in perfect unison.
Yoko narrowed her eyes. “That’s not what this looks like.”
Ajax chimed in from the floor, still cookie-balancing. “Let them vibe! Maybe they’re just lap-friendly roommates.”
“You have to be friends to be roommates, Ajax,” Bianca muttered.
“We are,” Enid said, trying not to squirm in Wednesday’s lap. “Best friends.”
“I never thought I’d ever see Wednesday letting someone this close. Like, Enid’s literally on her and she’s not saying anything!” Xavier was shocked.

An hour later, the party devolved into what could loosely be described as karaoke, although no one was singing and someone had looped a compilation of terrible remixes.
Ajax was trying to juggle grapes, Yoko had declared herself queen of the prom they weren’t having, and Enid was still comfortably on her wife’s lap.
That’s when it happened.
Both at the same time, Ajax and Enid reached to the last cookie in the bowl they were eating from, their hands touching.
“Last one,” he said, laughing “Wanna split it?”
Enid blinked. “Sure-“
“She doesn’t,” Wednesday interrupted, voice firm, while her hand instinctively placed on Enid’s hip.
Everyone turned.
Enid stared at her, almost trembling for the contact. “What do you mean?”
“We have cookies at home, she doesn’t need yours.” Wednesday said, ignoring Enid and looking directly in Ajax’s eyes.
Ajax looked confused. “I’m not a cookie drug dealer…”
“You don’t know what’s in it.”
“I literally baked them myself,” he said, offended.
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what worries me.”

Bianca raised an eyebrow. “Did you just insult his cookies because he offered the last one to Enid?”
“She’s protective,” Enid said in a whisper.
“Also jealous.” Yoko added.
“I am not jealous,” Wednesday snapped.
“You glared at him like he asked her to marry her” Divina said.
Wednesday folded her arms. “I merely questioned his motives.”
“He was offering a cookie,” Enid deadpanned.

Bianca sipped her drink. “Not normal to be jealous of your fake wife, Addams.”
Enid went a little pink.
Wednesday looked down. “I’m not jealous,” she muttered. “I’m... wary.”
“Wary of what?” Xavier asked.
“Wary of ingredients, crumbs, performative affection.”
Yoko blinked. “You’re talking about a biscuit, not a duel.”
“She’s just scared I’ll fall for someone else,” Enid teased.
Wednesday shot her a look that could’ve withered crops.
“Oh my God,” Ajax said, flopping backwards. “They’re in love and it’s killing me.”

That night, back at their house, Enid curled up on the couch under her favorite fuzzy blanket. Wednesday joined her ten minutes later with a book and a cup of herbal something-or-other that Enid pretended not to like but always stole sips of.
“I didn’t mean to make things weird,” Enid said eventually.
“You didn’t,” Wednesday replied.
Enid glanced over. “I don’t mind if you’re protective.”
“I’m not. I just don’t want him to look at you like that.”
Enid stared. “You really were jealous.”
“No comment.”
Enid leaned her head on Wednesday’s shoulder. “You’re cute when you’re in denial.”
“I am never cute.”
“You’re cute and scary. That could be my type.”
Wednesday stayed quiet, but her hand drifted over the blanket, slowly searching for Enid’s.
They didn’t hold hands this time.
Their fingers just rested beside each other. Close enough.

Chapter Text

It began, like most of Enid’s grand schemes, with a box.
A package left on the porch one sunny afternoon, which she snatched like it was a live grenade and disappeared into her room with a “Don’t come in!” that wasn’t suspicious at all.
Wednesday didn’t ask. She rarely did.
But she did notice a shift in Enid’s behavior over the next couple of days.
She was even gigglier than usual, and she also stared at Wednesday for entire stretches of time before snapping out of it and pretending she’d been checking the ceiling for cracks. One night she even asked, with an overly casual tone, “Hey, what do you think about… cotton blends?”
Wednesday responded by closing the book she was reading and leaving the room.

Then one morning, Wednesday came downstairs, bleary-eyed and barefoot, and opened her dresser drawer.
On top of her usual sleep shirts - most of them black and entirely free of decoration - was a new one.
Also black and made of soft cotton.
It had a small white script over the chest, which Wednesday barely read.
Something innocuous, she assumed, Enid put weird things in her drawer all the time.
It was something she both loved and hated about marriage.
It was nice because she didn’t have to go shopping, since that was all Enid loved and she hated to do.
It was bad because sometimes she came home with terrible things. This time, overall, the shirt wasn’t too bad.
So she pulled it on, made coffee, and forgot about it.

The next night, Enid wore hers.
It was pink. Very pink. And the moment she walked into the living room wearing it, she froze like a deer in fluorescent headlights.
Wednesday glanced up from her book.
“…New shirt?”
Enid nodded, tense. “Yup.”
“You look like a sleepy flamingo.”
“Thank you?”
Wednesday went back to reading.
Enid just sat there, clearly scared of Wednesday, waiting for her to realise what was written on both of their shirts.
It didn’t happen. For two full days.

——

The living room was unusually calm for a Saturday morning. Enid was lounging on the couch in her fluffy pink pajama set, scrolling through her phone with a quiet smile. Wednesday sat cross-legged in the armchair, dark coffee in hand, clad in her new black sleep shirt.

“Knock-knock!” came Yoko’s voice.
“Doors exist!” Wednesday snapped automatically.
Yoko ignored her and swept in with Divina at her side, both of them holding iced drinks.
Trailing behind them was also someone else.
“Hi,” Divina said with a grin. “Hope it’s cool we stopped by.”
Enid bounced up. “Of course! We’re happy to see you guys”
“Speak for yourself” Wednesday said, looking up for a second.
“So” Divina started, gesturing, “do you remember my twin brother Kent? He’s in town for the week.”
Kent, chipper and slightly sunburned, gave a little wave.
“Of course we remember! We had the best time at that club when you visited Divina in high school!” Enid said, getting up to greet him.
“Yes!” he said. “Oh my god, you’re so cute together.”
Wednesday blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
He motioned between them. “The matching pajamas!”
Enid froze. Wednesday stared at him like he’d just kicked over a tombstone.
“Too cute,” Kent added, turning to Divina, “but you told me they weren’t, like, actually married-married. Is it a bit?”
Dead silence. Yoko choked on her drink.
Divina, attempting damage control, said “Well, they are married. Kind of. It’s complicated.”
“It’s not complicated,” Wednesday hissed. “It was a clerical error and a tax convenience.”
“…But what’s with the matching sleepwear?” Kent asked cheerfully, taking a sip from his boba.
Enid made a noise that might have been a scream if it weren’t so high-pitched. “It’s not a bit!” she cried. “I mean, yes, we’re married! But also no! Like, yes on paper, no in bed -no wait that came out wrong”
Yoko dropped to the floor behind the couch, cackling.
Kent blinked. “Oh. Wow. This is more entertaining than I expected. Thanks for that.”
Wednesday, who had remained silently fuming, glanced down at her shirt.
She looked at Enid’s again and read them both, slowly.
“I don’t do matching pajamas… I do.”
Enid made the smallest squeak imaginable.
“But I really don’t do matching things! Why did I get the ‘I do’ one?” Wednesday protested.
“Well, the other sentence was too obvious for you not to notice right away. Also, it’s funnier like that”
“It’s not funny! You let me walk around in this,” Wednesday whispered, eyes wide. “For days.”
“In my defense…” Enid started.
“There is no defense.”
“It’s a really soft fabric, and it’s just a pajama, nobody would have noticed it if they didn’t come uninvited to our house!”
“We are changing our locks,” Wednesday muttered, heading upstairs. “Right now.”
“Oh come on!” Enid called after her. “It was cute!”
“Tell it to the judge.”
“I am your wife!”
Kent looked delighted. “God, I love lesbians.”

Chapter Text

It was the first real morning of college but the house was already showing signs of stress.
There were socks dangling from everywhere, and on the kitchen counter there was a very dead blender with what was supposed to be a smoothie - but looked like literally anything else - abandoned in it.
And yet, in the midst of it all, Enid was radiant.
She twirled into the kitchen wearing a lemon-yellow cardigan, sipping coffee like she wasn’t about to emotionally implode from first-day nerves.
Wednesday sat at the table in all black, quietly cutting her toast.
“You’re doing that ‘my wife is going to say something cheerful and I’m preparing to suffer’ face again,” Enid said brightly.
“It’s weird calling each other ‘my wife’, you know that?”
“Is it? You signed the contract, and I’m ironical.”

Enid had Communication classes all morning with Divina and Bianca, which meant Wednesday had the house to herself for a few blessed hours.
Or at least, that was the plan.
Instead, she found herself checking her phone. Twice.
Then staring at the coffee pot like it might text Enid for her.
When she finally gave in and sent a “Did you survive?” text, the reply came instantly.
“YES! I answered a question and didn't black out and nobody laughed and I love my major and also I miss you”
Wednesday read it three times. The “I miss you” buzzed in her chest louder than any lecture hall ever could.
She didn’t respond, just went upstairs and alphabetized her collection of cursed books to keep her thoughts in order.

When Enid returned, she kicked the front door open with dramatic flair, arms full of notebooks and excitement.
“Communication is my calling. I’m like... a golden retriever of knowledge.”
“You barked in your sleep last night,” Wednesday said without looking up from her reading.
“I dreamed I was a TED Talk!”
Enid dumped her things on the kitchen counter and hopped onto it like it was her natural habitat. She swung her legs, casually bumping Wednesday as she passed by.
Wednesday did not jump.
She simply... paused.

“You’re glowing,” she said, after a moment.
Enid blinked. “What?”
“No, I didn’t mean… don’t let it go to your head. You’re just... happy. It’s unusual on the first day of college, even for you.”
“Yeah, maybe it’s the lemon cardigan.”
“Or maybe it’s living with me,” Wednesday muttered, turning away.
“What?”
“Nothing.”

That night, they sat on the couch together, pretending not to be sitting very close.
Enid had her laptop open, playing some dumb series as background noise while she scrolled through her notes.
Wednesday had a book balanced on her knee - a thick, horrifying tome titled Gothic Architecture and the Metaphors of Internal Screaming.
The series laughed in the background. Enid snorted and Wednesday peeked sideways.
“Why do you like shows with laugh tracks?”
“It’s comforting. Like someone’s laughing with me.”
“You know the majority of those people are dead.”
Enid nudged her arm. “You’re dead and I like you.”
Wednesday went completely still.
Enid didn’t even realize what she said until a few seconds later.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “I just - I didn’t mean - well, I meant-“
“Stop talking.”
Enid stopped.
Wednesday turned toward her slowly.
“I am,” she said carefully, “distressingly alive. Especially when you say things like that.”
“I’m... sorry?”
“I didn’t say I disliked it.”
Enid’s heart was beating in her ears and none of them said anything else about that.

———

The university cafeteria wasn’t exactly atmospheric - fluorescent lighting, the smell of vaguely damp sandwich bread, and the occasional scream of a dropped metal tray. Still, it was the closest thing to a Great Hall these idiots had, and Enid liked the chaos of it. She called it "main character lunch energy."
Wednesday called it "auditory torture."
Today, though, she was unusually quiet as she picked at her lunch.
Yoko, two seats down, nudged Divina. “She’s brooding harder than usual.”
Divina sipped her smoothie. “Did someone misquote Mary Shelley again?”
“No,” Enid said before Wednesday could answer. “She got assigned a group project.”
There was a collective, dramatic groan.
“A group project? Already?” Ajax said, horrified. “What did she do to deserve that?”
“I don’t know,” Enid said, grinning. “Maybe she finally said ‘I love teamwork’ out loud and the universe punished her.”
Wednesday narrowed her eyes at her. “I hope you trip in your heeled boots and fall into a recycling bin.”
“I recycle emotionally toxicity” Enid chirped, sipping her iced latte. “So thanks.”
Before Wednesday could find a deadlier comeback, a voice cut through the buzz of conversation.

“Hey, Wednesday?”
Everyone at the table turned.
It was a girl. Pretty, soft-voiced and slightly nervous but trying to play it cool. She had a notebook tucked under her arm and the energy of someone who had thought about this moment a lot.
“I was wondering…” she started, fiddling with a pen she had in her hand. “So, like, you know we’re in the same project group - the queerness in horror one - and I just wanted to say, I really liked what you said in class.”
Wednesday blinked. “Thank you.”
“You have such an… intense energy,” the girl said. “I like it. So, I was wondering if you’re sing-“
Enid leaned forward, smiling too wide, a little too bright.
“She’s married.”
The girl froze. “Wait. What?”
“To me. She’s my wife.” Enid added, way too fast, while the girl was checking on their ring fingers, finding no rings.

Wednesday made a noise that might have been a sigh or a growl. “It’s a long story.”
The girl looked between them - Enid, who was radiating territorial sunshine, and Wednesday, who had just stabbed a cherry tomato with the force of mild homicide.
“Oh,” the girl said, confused, taking a step back. “Okay, sorry. I didn’t know.”
“No worries!” Enid said cheerfully, like this wasn’t the most dramatic sentence anyone had said during lunch.
The girl retreated, even more confused but not unkind, and Yoko nearly choked on her sandwich.

“Oh my God,” she wheezed. “You guard dogged her.”
“I did not,” Enid said.
“You absolutely did,” said Divina, elbowing her.
Bianca raised an eyebrow. “So… who are you with again?”
Wednesday stood. “I’m going to get more water.”
“She’s not denying it!” Ajax said, pointing with a fork. “That’s true love!”
Enid hid her face in her hands.

They made it twenty steps past the drink machines before Wednesday stopped walking.
“Was it necessary?” she said, slowly.
Enid winced. “I panicked.”
“You panicked.”
“She was flirting!”
Wednesday’s stare could have cracked a diamond.
“She was complimenting my academic insights.”
“Exactly!” Enid said, hands flying up. “You were about to be seduced via Gothic theory and it was working!”
Wednesday blinked. “That is-“
“You don’t get it, okay?” Enid blurted. “You were giving her the eyebrow.”
“I always have eyebrows.”
“The intense one!”
“You’re going crazy”
Enid ran both hands down her face. “Oh my God, Wednesday. You’re - ugh. You’re really attractive and smart and intimidating in a way that makes people feral. I panicked! I didn’t want her to make you uncomfortable.”
Wednesday paused.
That shut her up for a moment.
“I wouldn’t have been,” she said eventually. “Uncomfortable.”
Enid blinked at her.
“I would have said no. Not because of you,” she added quickly. “Because I don’t want to date strangers who can’t tell that I’m already… involved.”
Enid swallowed. “Involved.”
Wednesday looked away. “Logistically.”
“Sure,” Enid said. “For tax reasons.”
“Obvious ones,” Wednesday agreed. “We share yogurt.”
That made Enid laugh, breathless, just enough to un-tense her shoulders. “Okay. Next time, I’ll let you say no.”
“Good,” Wednesday said.
Then, after a pause: “…Wow, you call me your wife unironically now?”
Enid turned beet red. “I was trying to be convincing!”
“You’re very convincing.”
Enid stared. “Was that a compliment?”
“Absolutely not,” Wednesday deadpanned. “I would never flatter my fake spouse.”

“We need rings.” Enid said, just some seconds later.
“What? Are you okay?”
“I mean, we changed our last names to make people believe there’s nothing strange about our marriage. We should get rings so people can tell we really are wives!”
“Yeah, we might as well have a baby so people will believe that we’re really married”
“Yeah, if you want”
“I was… ironical. We’re not getting any ring.”
And with that, Wednesday came back to the table, leaving Enid behind.

“What about the baby?” She screamed, watching Wednesday sitting and ignoring what she had just said.

———

It started happening more often after the first week.
Enid had always been magnetic, but now that she was thriving in her major - charming professors, asking clever questions, somehow making even theoretical media analysis sound exciting - people were noticing and starting to like her very much.
Every time they walked across campus together, someone would call her name.
“Enid! Your new ig post is so beautiful!”
“Hey, did you change your hair? It’s adorable.”
“Are you coming to the student radio meeting? You’d be perfect for it!”
She waved at everyone with that easy, sugar-rush smile, like she’d just stepped out of a coming-of-age movie montage. A few people offered to walk with them. One girl even asked if she wanted to be in a short film.

Wednesday, walking beside her in total silence, looked like she was doing advanced mental math on how to poison a pumpkin spice latte.
The final straw came just outside the library.
A tall, smiling girl leaned against the railing and said, “Hey, Enid, I saw your debate in Comms class. You were amazing. Like, scary good.”
Enid laughed. “Aw, thanks! I kind of blacked out in the middle, but no one said anything so I think it went okay?”
“You crushed it,” she said. “Anyway, if you ever want help prepping for the next one, I’m a decent practice audience.”
“Oh, that’s sweet,” Enid said, tucking hair behind her ear. “I’ll let you know!”
The girl left with a grin, and Enid turned to the friend group, cheeks slightly pink.

“That was nice, right?”
Wednesday blinked once.
“No,” she said.
Enid frowned. “She’s friendly!”
“She’s certainly hopeful.” Yoko said, laughing.
They kept walking.
After a long, pointed silence, Wednesday walked faster to get closer to her and finally said:
“We need rings.”
Enid turned her head to her, surprised. “What?”
“So this doesn’t happen again. You’re right, if we have rings people will take the hint.”
Enid tried to keep a straight face. “You mean the hint that we’re married?”
Wednesday didn’t even blink. “Exactly.”

The next afternoon, Enid burst into the living room like she’d won the lottery.
“Guess what?” she beamed.
Wednesday didn’t look up from her book. “You’ve finally been recruited by a cult. Congratulations.”
“No. What? You agreed we need rings-“
“I said it’s better if we have rings so it’ll be easier for the public to believe we’re married”
“Semantics,” Enid said, already putting on her jacket. “We’re going shopping.”
Wednesday lowered her book just enough to raise one eyebrow. “I assumed we’d order something online.”
“You assumed wrong,” Enid said, tossing her a coat. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”
Wednesday did not believe in fun, she believed in grim necessity. This, unfortunately, qualified.

The store was a tiny, quirky little shop on the edge of campus.
Display cases full of delicate chains, odd silver pieces, and rings in every shade of taste.
“Pick anything below $50.” Enid said, hands on her hips. “Go wild. As long as we both get something.”
Wednesday eyed a spiky, vaguely cursed-looking black band. “That one.”
“Of course you want the one that looks like a demon’s mood ring,” Enid muttered. Then she spotted something and gasped. “Wait - oh my God.”
Wednesday followed her gaze. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“They match, Wednesday.”
“They say ‘Till Death’ and ‘Do Us Part.’ That is embarrassing.”
“We’re married,” Enid said, grinning way too brightly. “Ironically.”
Wednesday stared at her. Then at the rings. Then back at her.
“You realize this means everyone will think we’re deeply in love.”
Enid’s smile softened slightly. “Good.”
There was a pause, a long one. Enough that Wednesday had to look away.
“Fine,” she said, voice quieter. “At least I’m getting the one that says ‘Till Death.’”

The rings came in tiny velvet boxes. Wednesday slipped hers on wordlessly - black metal, perfectly minimalist, etched inside with a Latin inscription she would never admit she’d picked.
Enid's was simple silver, warm against her skin. On the inside, in tiny cursive, was written:
“You make sense. W.”
She didn’t show Wednesday.
When they walked out of the shop, Wednesday was already muttering about coffee and deadlines and the statistical failure rate of student marriages. Enid just held her hand up next to hers, comparing the two rings.
“They look good on us,” she said.
Wednesday glanced at them. Then - very softly, like she didn’t mean to let it out - she said:
“They do.”

——-

It was movie night - or, as Wednesday called it, "audio-visual endurance training." The group was half-sprawled across the living room, blankets tangled, popcorn spilled.
Enid sat with her legs tucked under her, flipping through movie options. Wednesday was beside her on the couch, arms crossed like she was being held hostage by a remote control.
“Okay, horror comedy, or just horror?” Enid asked.
“Just horror,” Wednesday said.
“Just comedy,” Ajax begged. “Please, I’ve had a long week and Wednesday’s last pick gave me nightmares in Latin.”
“I vote for a romcom!” Divina offered, already mid-popcorn toss with Yoko.
“I second that,” Bianca said. “It’s the only way I’ll survive another film that looks like it was filmed in a crypt.”
Wednesday sighed audibly. “Fine. But only if it’s horror comedy and no one kisses in the rain.”
“I make no promises,” Enid grinned.
She reached for the remote, and that’s when it happened.
Yoko’s eyes narrowed. “Hold up. Hold up.”
Enid froze mid-motion. “What?”
Yoko grabbed Enid’s hand. “Is that a ring?”
Enid’s eyes went wide. “Oh! Um-“
“It’s just for show,” Wednesday said immediately. “To deter unwanted advances and preserve national peace.”
But it was too late. Divina had already gasped.
“Wait. Wednesday, you have one too.”
All eyes locked on her hand.
“Matching,” Bianca breathed. “They’re matching.”
“I knew it,” Ajax whispered, eyes huge. “This is married behavior.”
“I thought you said the wedding was ironic,” Xavier said, accusing.
“It is,” Enid insisted, cheeks flushing.
“Doesn’t look ironic,” Divina said, leaning in. “It looks... emotionally compromised.”
“Show me yours again,” Yoko said, grabbing Enid’s hand. “Oh my God. That’s actually sweet. Wait, does it say something on the inside?”
Enid yanked her hand back. “Mind your business!”
Wednesday, meanwhile, looked like she was calculating how many crimes it would take to disappear everyone in the room.
Bianca smirked. “You’re blushing.”
“I don’t blush.”
“Your ears are red,” Enid mumbled, smiling into her sleeve.
“I’m overheating. This room is full of emotional humidity.”
“You bought matching rings,” Yoko said, eyes sparkling. “You two are one spontaneous vow renewal away from being legally adorable.”
“We’re not doing a vow renewal,” Wednesday said immediately.
“Yet,” Ajax said.
Wednesday stood. “I’m going to go alphabetize the snack cabinet.”
Enid called after her, “Bring me back a snack, spouse!”
Wednesday flipped her off over her shoulder, but didn’t argue.
Enid turned back to the group with a dreamy sigh. “She totally loves me.”
Yoko threw a pillow at her. “You're both so obvious.”

Chapter Text

It began with a text at 9:03 AM.
W: Come to my house. Immediately.
P: Why? What happened?
W: I’m imploding.
P: Did you hex yourself again?
W: Just come. Don’t tell Mother.

When he arrived one hour something later - suitcase in hand and suspicion in his eyes - Pugsley found the front door unlocked and the chaos of Wednesday’s life in full display.
There was a very pink doormat that read “Home is where your wife is.”, two mugs on a table - one that read a “W” in all black and a sad gothic font, the other the pinkest thing he had ever seen, with a big glittered paw and a “E” drawn on it - and above the fireplace was a sparkly, glitter-stickered “JUST MARRIED” sign.
Pugsley stared at it.

Then he turned as Wednesday stepped out from the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee and looking like she hadn’t slept since the French Revolution.
“Hi,” she said stiffly.
He blinked. “Are you… okay?”
“No.”
“Did you kill someone?”
“Not recently.”
“…Is this about the sign?” he asked, tilting his head.
Wednesday flinched. “Maybe.”
Pugsley stepped closer, eyeing her carefully. “Wait.” He pointed to her left hand. “Are you wearing a ring?”
Wednesday set her coffee down like it betrayed her. “I was going to tell you.”
“You got married.” He gasped. “To Enid. Oh my god. Did you - was there - did you do, like, a ceremony? Did she make you say vows?!”
“Pugsley-“
“Was there dancing?! And you didn’t invite us?”
Before Wednesday could inflict damage, Enid emerged from the hallway in pajama shorts and a ponytail. “Hey, lil bro! You want breakfast? We have waffles, granola, or stuff with actual nutrients but it’s gross.”

Pugsley just stared. Then, very slowly, walked up and lifted her left hand.
The ring sparkled.
He turned to Wednesday with betrayal in his eyes. “You got married and you didn’t even tell me?!”
“No,” Wednesday said instantly. “We got married for housing paperwork and college tax benefits. Accidentally.”
Enid snorted. “Wow, you’re always so romantic.”
“I haven’t told our parents yet,” Wednesday added. “That’s why I summoned you. You will stand with me when I inform them. Or preferably, you will deliver the news while I hide under a floorboard.”
Pugsley blinked. “You want me to tell our parents that you got married and didn’t invite them?”
“Yes, you’re the least likely to be disowned.”
“That’s only because I once ate a napkin and Mother thought it was endearing.”
“Exactly.”
Enid sat on the arm of the couch, grinning. “Honestly, if Morticia finds out we accidentally got married, I think she’ll throw us a second wedding just to make it classy.”
“Over her embalmed body,” Wednesday muttered.

Pugsley flopped into a chair. “I just… I thought you’d be the last to fall for someone.”
“I didn’t fall,” Wednesday snapped.
“Okay. I thought you’d be the last to tax-file with someone.”
“Accurate.”
Enid swung her legs and gave him a sunny smile. “Still feels real. Right, brother-in-law?”
Pugsley whimpered. “Don’t call me that. I’m emotionally unprepared.”
Wednesday downed her coffee like it was poison. “We’re all emotionally unprepared.”

Then, as if summoned by dark forces, Enid’s phone pinged with a message from someone in her class group. Another emoji. Another flirtatious compliment. Another instance of someone not knowing that Enid Sinclair was completely unavailable.
Wednesday stared at the screen, grimaced, and muttered:
“…We definitely need rings.”
Pugsley threw his hands up. “You have rings!”
“Oh, right. We need everyone to see them then.”
“Now you’re romantic,” Enid whispered, starry-eyed.
“I’m protective of my legal assets.”

Pugsley sighed. “Okay. I’m gonna go lie down on your haunted couch and think about the fact that I’m technically the younger sibling of a rainbow.”
“You always were,” Enid replied. “You just didn’t know it yet.”

“We should have a family dinner lunch” Pugsley said minutes later.
“What?” Wednesday asked, disgusted, but Enid was already in front of him, smiling.
“Tell me more” She said.
“Our parents are free today. We’re in time to cook something for lunch and to invite them so we can tell them”
“Enid doesn’t let me cook, she’s too scared I’ll poison the food.” Wednesday replied “And we won’t invite Mother and Father here!”

Two hours later, Wednesday and Enid were sat at their kitchen table with Pugsley, Morticia and Gomez, eating kinda crap delivered pizza and just bought random grocery store snacks.
The candles, which Wednesday had insisted so much to have, flickered with the effort of staying lit near Morticia’s perfume.

“So,” Gomez said brightly, carving into the meal with a ceremonial dagger, “how’s college?”
“Great!” Enid said, maybe too enthusiastically. “I’m learning so much about media psychology and interpersonal dynamics and rhetorical-”
“We’re married,” Wednesday cut in, deadpan.
A long pause.
Morticia blinked once, elegantly. “I see.”
Enid nearly choked on her water. “Oh my god. We were going to ease into it-“
“Ease?” Wednesday said, arching a brow. “You used the Just Married sign Yoko brought as wall art. There was no easing.”
Gomez was beaming. “Congratulations! How romantic to marry at your age! Me and your mother married 5 times by now, the first at 17”
“But” Morticia said gently. “Are you telling us now because… you thought we wouldn’t approve? Or because you thought we would get mad for not inviting us? Even better, a marriage in the shadows!”
“Exactly! Well, if you decide on a renewal we can certainly do something special” Gomez added, with dreaming eyes.
Enid opened her mouth, then closed it. Wednesday blinked.
Pugsley leaned back with a smug sip of his drink. “I told you they weren’t going to freak out.” He said.
Morticia smiled. “Darling, we assumed this would happen eventually. You’ve been orbiting each other with the subtlety of a ghost romance novel for years.”
Gomez nodded. “Your wedding photos must’ve been delightfully miserable. Did you use grayscale filters?”
“We didn’t take photos,” Wednesday said flatly.
“Even better,” Morticia whispered, teary-eyed.

There just wasn’t time to explain why and how. And, maybe, there wasn’t even the need to do it.
When, just some minutes later, Morticia and Gomez had to leave early because of a ‘Lurch emergency’, nobody talked about the fact that they didn’t tell them they didn’t actually got married for love.
(Or did they?)
———-

Enid kissed Wednesday’s cheek before grabbing her tote bag. “Study group. You and your brother don’t eat everything. Save me a black cupcake, okay?”
Wednesday froze.
Her eyes did not widen. Her posture did not change. But her soul momentarily rebooted.
That was her cheek. Her cheek had been kissed.
And she was not sure how much she was hating it.
Enid was now already halfway out the door, humming a pop song, when Wednesday turned slowly to Pugsley.
“Did she just-?”
“Yep.”

“That feels terrible. Why is my skin feeling like it’s turning into bees?”
Pugsley shrugged. “Normal symptoms of romantic panic.”
Wednesday stared at the door Enid had just walked through like it had personally betrayed her.
Then she sat down, hard.
“I need a flamethrower. Or a therapist.”
“Or a ring upgrade,” Pugsley muttered into his popcorn. He was stretched out on the dramatically uncomfortable fainting couch, eating popcorn out of a skull-shaped bowl.
He gave her a look. “So, when are you gonna tell me?”
“Tell you what?” she said, settling into the opposite armchair, book in hand.
“That you’re in love with her.”
“I’m not,” Wednesday said instantly.
“You literally got matching rings because someone flirted with her.”
“It was for practical purposes.”
Pugsley raised an eyebrow. “You call her your wife, unironically. You reorganised your cursed book collection because she texted ‘I miss you.’”
Wednesday stared at him.
“Stop that” she said slowly. “I’m not in love. It’s just…”
She closed the book. Thought.
“She makes things… less unbearable. When she’s around, everything is… louder. But not in a way I want to destroy. I notice the sun more. I get distracted in good ways. My thoughts loop around her like they’re orbiting something warm, and it’s-“ She stopped. Blinked. “…Oh god.”
Pugsley grinned. “So. Love?”
“Say that word again and I’ll replace Enid’s useless marbles with your eyes.”
They talked about the situation some more, Pugsley pushing his sister to open up more.

“So…” he said carefully, minutes later, after a long silence from Wednesday. “What are you gonna do about it?”
Wednesday stiffened like he’d just been asking for her browser history.
“I’m not going to do anything,” she said, voice clipped. “I don’t do feelings.”
Pugsley blinked. “You literally just described a feeling.”
“It was a metaphor.”
“No, it was basically poetry. You said you’d follow her into battle and the baking aisle.”
“I also said I wanted to dissolve into the floor and never be perceived again.”
“Yeah, that’s what people in love say when they’re trying to be cool about it” he said with a grin.
She let out a long, suffering sigh.
Then Pugsley tilted his head, a little more serious.
“No, but really… are you gonna tell her?”
Wednesday’s mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again like a haunted doll losing connection with the spirit world.
“I would rather wear pink Crocs to my own funeral.”
Pugsley nodded solemnly. “So that’s a ‘maybe.’”

Wednesday glared at him like she was trying to telekinetically explode his shoes. “You say one word of this to anyone and your shampoo becomes 90% glue.”
“I’m honored you think I use shampoo.”
She stood, pacing a few steps like her emotions were a glitch in her normally pristine programming.

“It’s just… she’s everywhere. Her hair’s on the couch, her laughter echoes in the hallway, her socks are inside my laundry. I found glitter on my pillow this morning, Pugsley. Glitter.”
“Terrifying.”
“And she keeps… looking at me.”
“Yeah, that tends to happen when you’re married.”
“It’s not a real marriage,” she hissed.
“You have rings.”
Wednesday stopped walking. “They are decorative symbols of fake commitment.”
“You picked them out together. They match. Yours has Latin incised inside.”
“That is my business. She doesn’t know.”
Pugsley leaned back on the couch, arms folded, smug. “Wednesday Addams, you are so in love it’s physically painful to witness.”
She threw a throw pillow at him.
He caught it. “Did it hurt?”
“What?”
“When you fell for your sunshine wife.”
“I will bury you in the backyard.”
“With her favorite flowers on my grave?” he teased.
She stared at him, frozen. Then:
“…Do you think she likes sunflowers?”
“Oh my God,” he whispered. “You’re gone. You’re so far gone.”
Wednesday groaned, dropped back onto the couch, and buried her face in her hands.
Pugsley smiled softly and nudged her arm. “You don’t have to tell her today. But you’re gonna have to someday.”
Wednesday peeked at him through her fingers. “…What if she doesn’t feel the same?”
He tilted his head. “Have you met you two?”

Chapter Text

The morning after began with a knock on the door and a far too cheerful voice.
“Hi girls!” their landlord beamed, leaning into the doorway with the energy of someone who’d just made a very lucrative deal with a demon. “Good news! I need this house for, uh… personal reasons, but I’ve already got you moved into another property!”
Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “Make those personal reasons public.”
“It’s being repurposed for my daughter’s dog therapy startup.”
“Sounds fake.” she replied.
Enid popped up behind her with the same sparkle as the morning sun. “Wait, you already got us another place? That’s actually super nice of you.”
“No it’s not, I don’t even think that’s legally allowed.” Wednesday replied.
“It’s even closer to your college!” the landlord said brightly. “And - get this - cheaper rent!”
Wednesday’s suspicious expression didn’t budge. “What’s the catch.”
“No catch! Just one tiny detail, it’s only got one bedroom.”
Enid blinked. “Oh.”
“What?” Wednesday said, alarmed.
The landlord waved a hand like it was no big deal. “But I figured that wouldn’t be a problem for a married couple. You probably use the spare room here as, like, a cinema room or… whatever you cool young people do these days.”
Neither girl said anything.
The man looked between them. “Anyway! You’re moving today if that’s possible. I already hired movers to handle it, keys are in your mailbox and I’ll send you the address!”
He disappeared down the sidewalk before they could reply.
A long silence.

Enid turned slowly toward Wednesday. “So… one bedroom.”
“I assume there will be two beds.” Wednesday said, crossing her arms.
“Yeah,” Enid nodded quickly. “Totally. Like, side by side. Or one’s a futon.”
“Yes. Futons exist, futons have always existed.”
They both stood in place for several more seconds.

They arrived at the new place just after sunset.
It was small but charming - quieter neighborhood, closer to campus, a little spooky from the ivy-covered gate and the hauntingly squeaky door hinge that sounded like someone sobbing in reverse. Enid said it had vibes. Wednesday said it had mold. They both agreed it was cute. (Actually, Wednesday complained all day and said it was tolerable after hours)
It even smelled like fresh paint and distant rosemary.
They explored a bit in companionable silence: kitchen, decent. Living room, smaller but cozy.
Enid couldn’t wait to stick the “Just married” sign to the wall.
Bathroom, horrifyingly pink (Enid squealed with delight). Then finally, the bedroom.
Enid opened the door with a flourish. “Okay, so! Let’s see how the new bedroom - oh.”
“Oh,” Wednesday echoed, flat and emotionless.
There was only one bed.
No futon, no side-by-side cots, no questionable air mattress.
Just one, large, terrifyingly soft-looking bed with an excessive number of decorative pillows.
Enid stared at it like it had insulted her in French.
“…Huh,” she said.
Wednesday walked in slowly, like it might explode if she stepped too close. “This is a problem.”
“Okay,” Enid said quickly, “we can make it work. I’ll just - uh - I’ll sleep on top of the blanket! You can take the sheets. I’ll be like a guest in a hotel! A hotel guest in my own marriage!”
“That makes no sense,” Wednesday muttered, but didn’t argue.
Enid flopped face-first onto the bed, then bounced up again when she realized it was terrifyingly comfortable. “Okay, seriously, how is this bed so good? Are we gonna die if we fall asleep on it? Like… is it cursed?”
“I wish,” Wednesday muttered.
“I can make a pillow wall” Enid offered, scooping up at least six of the terrible heart-shaped cushions. “Like a very fluffy Berlin Wall.”
Wednesday turned away so Enid wouldn’t see the flicker of a smile.
“Well, the real one eventually fell down.” She just said.

“I’ll sleep on the left,” Enid continued, determined. “You take the right. That’s the side you always sit on when we watch movies anyway.”
Wednesday raised a brow. “You… noticed that?”
Enid blinked. “Of course I noticed. You always sit stiff as a corpse, holding your tea like it’s about to attack you, and still pretend to be totally chill whenever my shoulder touches yours.”
“I am always chill.”
“I know you, and I know you hate physical touch.”
But did she anymore?
After that cheek kiss of the day before, could she continue to say she hated it? Could she ever say she wasn’t just a bit happy to share a bed with the person she was trying to see how close she could stand to without freaking out?
There was a silence.

That night, after brushing teeth together and taking turns hiding in the bathroom to change into pajamas, they both stood by opposite sides of the bed, not looking at each other.
Enid was in pastel pink shorts and an oversized hoodie with glitter letters that said “SOFT BUT DANGEROUS.” Wednesday wore her black silk pajamas and the expression of someone about to be buried alive.
Enid sat beside her, the mattress dipping with her weight. The bed, being evil, bounced them closer together.
And Wednesday, who had spent her entire life perfecting the art of emotional detachment, felt her brain short-circuit when their knees touched.
‘Pugsley was right’, she thought grimly. ‘I’m going to kill him.’

“So,” Enid said, toeing off her slippers. “Ground rules?”
Wednesday stared ahead like she was in battle. “We divide the bed equally. No touching, no hogging the blanket, no involuntary emotional bonding.”
Enid blinked. “You think I snuggle in my sleep?”
“I think you’re a Golden Retriever in human form.”
Enid laughed, climbing under the covers. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn’t one.”
Wednesday slid in cautiously, limbs rigid, as though the bed were laced with poison. She lay flat on her back, hands crossed over her chest.
The silence stretched.
Then,
“You’re breathing weird,” Enid said.
“I’m alive,” Wednesday snapped.
“Barely.”
Another pause.
Then Enid whispered, “You sure you’re not nervous?”
“I’ve stared down serial killers with more comfort than this.”
Enid snorted, flipping onto her side. “Aw, you do feel things.”
“I’m filing for divorce.”
“You can’t. You’d lose the tax benefits.”
“Damn it.”
More silence, warmth. The kind Wednesday hated because it didn’t feel earned, it just was. Calm and soft and… domestic.
Wednesday dared a sideways glance.
Enid was already half-asleep, her hair haloed on the pillow, breathing slow and even. Peaceful, trusting, too close.
She turned her head quickly back to the ceiling, heartbeat tapping a too fast rhythm against her ribs.
She was warm. Not just physically. Existentially.
It was disgusting but strangely… not unwelcome.
A small part of her - the part that had started liking chamomile tea and Enid’s playlists - thought that maybe this wasn’t the worst thing.
Then Enid mumbled in her sleep, voice soft as a feather:
“G’night, Wednesday…”
Wednesday didn’t respond.
But her hand relaxed on the sheets.
And she hated how much she didn’t hate it.

“Your foot is touching mine,” Wednesday said stiffly, just some seconds later.
“No it isn’t!”
“It absolutely is. It’s practically a proposal.”
Enid yanked her foot back so fast she kicked one of the pillows off the bed. “Sorry! Sorry.“
Then, in a whisper, Enid asked: “So… this doesn’t feel weird, right?”
Another beat.
Wednesday said nothing.
Because it did feel weird… it felt too good. The warmth at her back, the familiar scent of strawberry shampoo and popcorn and glitter. The knowledge that if she turned even slightly, she could reach out and-
No.
She didn’t move.
“It’s fine,” she said at last, voice low. “We’re married. This is normal.”
Enid let out a breath. “…Right. Totally normal.”
“Goodnight, Enid. For real, this time.”

There were approximately six inches of space between them. Wednesday had counted.
She’d stared at the ceiling for the past thirty-eight minutes after waking up, listening to the rhythm of Enid’s breath, steady and content.
She hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even snored, the way she occasionally did after too much caffeine.
Wednesday, on the other hand, was suffering.
The bed was too soft, the room too quiet. And worst of all, her hand had begun to drift.
She didn’t realize it until her fingers brushed against warmth.
Skin.
Enid’s skin.
A pinkie, to be exact. Delicate, warm, familiar.
Enid shifted slightly in her sleep, murmured something unintelligible, and without even fully waking, her fingers curled around Wednesday’s softly, like it was normal.
Wednesday’s spine turned to stone and her breath caught.

She tried to move, but Enid’s grip - gentle though it was - tightened slightly, still not awake; just instinct. Even worse.
She turned her head slowly, heart pounding, gaze locking on their joined hands like she was watching a time bomb. “What is this?” she whispered to herself, horrified.

“I’ve held your hand before, y’know,” Enid mumbled, eyes still shut, voice thick with sleep.
Wednesday froze like she’d been shot.
Enid’s eyes fluttered half-open. “Like a bunch of times, we just never talk about it.”
Wednesday’s voice rose half an octave. “That’s a lie.”
Enid blinked at her. “Movie night. That time I dragged you across campus in the rain. When we were going to buy your terrible book. Oh, and after that vending machine incident when your middle finger was bleeding.”
“I was concussed.” Wednesday hissed.
“Still held on pretty tight” Enid said, yawning.
“Because I thought I was dying!”
“You squeezed my fingers.”
“I was losing consciousness!”

Enid’s voice dropped back into soft amusement. “Okay, but last week? When we were walking home and your glove was in your pocket?”
“I was cold.”
“You had your coat.”
“I was emotionally cold.”
“You didn’t let go for six blocks. And you’re always emotionally cold.”
“I hate you.” Wednesday said with no real heat.
Enid just smiled.

“We’ve never discussed this, it’s weird.” Wednesday added later.
“I thought it was cute,” Enid replied with a shrug, as if that were a valid excuse for hand-holding treachery. “Didn’t wanna make it weird.”
“It is weird,” Wednesday snapped. “You made it weird by not acknowledging the weirdness of it.”
Enid blinked at her, entirely unbothered. “Would you have rather had, like, a PowerPoint presentation about our unconscious emotional intimacy?”
“Oh god. Please stop making things weirder.”
“Just chill, Weds. And stop saying ‘weird’.”
Wednesday stared at the ceiling again. She didn’t move her hand.

They didn’t talk much after that.
Enid, mercifully, got up some minutes later and made pancakes. Wednesday poked hers with suspicion until Enid poured syrup into a little heart on the plate and grinned.
They met up with the group on campus before class, just outside the campus café. Everyone was loitering around a wooden table under a big red umbrella, sipping cheap coffee and complaining about lessons and exams.

“Hey, Addams-Sinclairs!” Yoko called the moment she saw them. “You don’t look well-rested.”
Divina added with a smirk, “Yeah, you look like you didn’t sleep really well last night.”

“We moved,” Enid said brightly, sitting beside them. “Like, surprise moved. New house, new rent, same wife.”
“It’s disturbingly domestic,” Wednesday muttered, taking her seat across from them all. “I feel like I’ve been tricked into participating in a Hallmark special.”
“Wait, wait,” Bianca said, holding up her latte. “You moved? Again?”
“Yeah,” Enid replied. “Our landlord said his daughter needed the place for dog therapy.”
“That is so fake,” said Ajax, mouth full of croissant.
“That’s what I said!” Wednesday confirmed. “But he bribed us with lower rent.”
“And it’s closer to college,” Enid added. “The only thing is… it only has one bedroom.”
The group froze. All at once, they all turned toward them.

Xavier raised an eyebrow. “One bedroom?”
“Yes,” Wednesday said evenly, daring anyone to make a comment.
“Okay,” Yoko said slowly, leaning forward. “So let me get this straight. You’re married, living alone, sharing a room, and somehow still pretending you’re not nuts about each other.”
“We’re not,” Wednesday said.
“Sure,” Yoko grinned. “And Ajax and Xavier are just bros.”
Ajax turned red instantly. “We’re - I mean - we hang out, yeah, but-”
Xavier just smirked into his mug, not denying anything.
Wednesday ignored them and sipped her coffee. It tasted like bitterness and emotional exposure. She hated it.
Bianca raised an eyebrow. “So… only one bedroom. How’s that going? How many beds do you have?”
“…Only one.” Wednesday said, deadpan, ready for the comments she knew she was about to receive from the others.
“I offered to build a pillow wall,” Enid said cheerfully. “But Wednesday compared it to the Berlin Wall and said all walls eventually fall.”
There was a moment of silence. Then Yoko burst into laughter. “Oh my god, you are in love.”
“I’m filing for an annulment,” Wednesday replied coldly.
“Tax benefits.” Enid smiled sweetly.
“Ugh,” Bianca muttered, smirking. “Married people.”

Yoko tilted her head. “So, what’s it like? Sharing a bed with Little Miss Corpse Bride?”
“I wake up with fewer vital signs than I had the night before.” Enid said, grinning.
“I can’t help my body temperature is efficient” Wednesday muttered. “Some of us don’t run around radiating like a malfunctioning furnace.”

“So it’s my body strange heating system the reason you said my foot accidentally touching yours was practically a proposal?” Enid shot back.
The table howled. Even Xavier choked on his drink.
“That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Divina said, dramatically. “Are you guys writing a poetry book or what?”
“I’m starting a memoir, ‘Sleeping with the Undead: A Love Story’.” Enid said proudly.
Ajax beamed. “That’s such a good title.”
“It’s not a love story,” Wednesday said flatly. “It’s a hostage situation. I am the hostage, the bed is the captor.”
Bianca snorted. “And Enid’s what, the negotiator?”
“She’s the problem,” Wednesday said, but her tone lacked venom, and Enid only bumped her shoulder lightly.

Across the table, Ajax was very obviously pretending not to look at Xavier, who was busy buttering a muffin concentrated like he was disarming a bomb.
Yoko noticed.
“So,” she said, too casually, “Ajax. You and Xavier been hanging out a lot lately?”
Ajax’s ears turned the color of his strawberry smoothie. “Uh - yeah. Yeah. He, uh, helped me with my Lit Theory essay.”
“I rewrote it for him.” Xavier added, not looking up.
“Ohhh,” Divina whispered dramatically. “Academic romance.”
“It’s not like that,” Ajax said quickly. “He’s just smart. Like… freaky smart. And cool. And his hands are - uh, steady. Like, when he draws. Not that I noticed. Or care, at all.”
A silence fell over the table.
Enid bit her lip, trying not to laugh, Yoko looked like Christmas had come early.
Wednesday watched it all from behind her cup, mildly amused, a little impressed, and, against her will, emotionally invested.
Then Xavier, without looking up, told Bianca quietly, “He’s cute when he rambles.”
Ajax dropped his fork.

“Okay!” Bianca said, clapping once. “New house, new gay panic. We can’t complain, we’re entertained.”
Yoko leaned in, grinning. “This is our group now. Two married people who try to hide their obvious love for one another, and one disaster sculptor and his maybe-boyfriend with his girlfriend… me and Divina? We just… live here.”
“Speak for yourself,” Divina said. “I came to college for academic excellence and the drama.”
“And I came for the coffee.” said Enid, raising her cup. “Cheers to gay panic and wives who steal your side of the bed.”
“I do not steal-“
“Lies,” Enid said sweetly. “You drift, like a very grumpy cloud.”
Wednesday glared. “I’m going to buy a taser.”
“And I’m gonna crochet us a Mrs. and Mrs. pillow set.”
“That’s it,” Wednesday said, standing abruptly. “Time for class. Let’s go, wife.”
Enid beamed, clearly delighted. “Aw, she said I’m her wife.”
“Well, you are…” Divina deadpanned.
“Don’t make me regret every decision I’ve ever made.” Wednesday muttered.
Yoko called after them, “You two are so in love, it’s actually revolting.”
“Hey! You stole my personality!” Wednesday protested, going away with her wife.

Chapter Text

That apparently calm afternoon, Enid was going back home after an intense morning of lectures.
She was about to exit the college, when she spotted a broad figure carrying a huge cardboard box labeled “Kettlebells & Protein” like it weighed nothing. He had the Sinclair jawline, unfortunately. And the Sinclair biceps, double unfortunately.

“…Luca?” she asked, tilting her head.
The guy turned, grinning like someone who had never experienced shame. “Yo! Little Bean!”
“Oh my God,” Enid said flatly. “What are you doing here?”
He dropped the box with a thud that made a nearby bird drop dead mid-flight and went to hug her. “Transfer. Other school kicked me out, and I kinda don’t want to come back home. Whole story’s kinda a blur, honestly. Something about an accidental fire in the weight room and a very emotional protein powder commercial I was trying to film.”
“You WHAT?”
“Don’t worry! It was mostly put out! Anyway, I'm here now! Starting next week!” He slapped his own chest proudly. “New college, new gains.”
Enid covered her face with both hands. “This college is not ready for you.”
“I know, right? Also, the others are here too, they’re helping me move in. Parked the van like two blocks over because some guy yelled at us for bench pressing the welcome sign.”
“…Why are you like this?”
“Genetics.”

Enid let out a strangled sound. She shifted the books in her arms, forgetting she was holding her notebook, the one she’d just taken out of her backpack mid-walk to check something. The front read, in embarrassingly bold handwriting:
“COMMUNICATION NOTES. ENID ADDAMS-SINCLAIR.”

“WHAT? Addams-Sinclair? What happened to our glorious last name? Why did you betray us?” Luca said, having a look at that notebook. “Is that, like… a joke? Please tell me it’s a joke.” He continued.
Enid’s eyes went wide, and she gripped the notebook closer to her chest. “It’s a long story.”
His gaze dropped back to the ring. “Enid. Are you… married?”
She didn’t answer.
“…To a guy named Addams?”
Still no answer.
“Yo,” Luca said, louder, stepping back like he needed more oxygen. “What the hell? What happened to Ajax? That guy was chill. How’s my boy doing? Why’d you break up?”
Enid exhaled slowly. “He’s okay, he’s currently obsessed with another guy.”
Luca stared. “Oh. Oh. Damn, didn’t see that coming.”
“I did.”
“Is it Xavier?”
“…Yes.”
“I KNEW that guy was bisexual. His cheekbones were too powerful for him to be straight.” Luca said, but then added: “Hold on, I got distracted. Addams. You married someone named Addams. I don’t know any guy we know with that name. Wait. Wait. Oh my god.”
His face dropped. “Tell me you didn’t marry your goth bestie.”
Enid blinked. “Define ‘didn’t.’”

“Enid.” His voice rose to full big-brother panic. “Enid! You married Wednesday Addams?! The one who stared down our high school principal until he quit? The one who got the horror club labeled as a potential cult?!”
“She’s really nice once you get past the murder eyes” Enid mumbled.
Luca’s face did a whole performance piece of despair and confusion. Then he dropped his voice. “Wait, you married a girl. Are you… out?”
Enid nodded slowly.
His expression shifted. Something quieter in his eyes now, serious and a little sad. “And… Mom doesn’t know, right?”
Enid shook her head. “No, not yet.”
He looked away, jaw tight. “Good.”
She blinked. “Good?”
“I told her about… me, last month.” His voice was even, but his fingers curled around the strap of his gym bag. “She said it was a phase. That I’d ‘grow out of it if I stopped working out with Jordan.’ That it was disgusting and she did not deserve ‘a son like that’.”
“Luca…”
He shook his head quickly. “I’m fine, really. It just… sucked, a lot. So I’m just saying…” He looked her in the eye now. “Be careful. If you’re happy, that’s great. But don’t let her take it from you. Don’t let anyone take it from you.”
Enid’s chest tightened. For a moment, they were just siblings - no glitter, no jokes, no chaos. Just Enid and Luca and a soft kind of understanding.

“But… why didn’t you tell me? I could help you, you could talk to me. I’m always here for all of you, you know that.” Enid said, looking directly into her brother’s eyes.
“Well, you didn’t tell me you got married. You didn’t even invite me! I’d say we’re even.” He responded, with a laugh.
“I guess you’re right. Maybe we can compensate with a dinner all together, to resemble the family spirit. Tonight at my house, okay?” She asked.
“Yes! I can’t wait to see Wednesday being a wife.”
“Luca…”
“Yes?”
“Is… that the reason why you said you don’t feel like coming back home?”
“It is…”
“I’m gonna murder our mother.”
“Woah. Your creepy wife really influenced you.” He laughed it off.

Then, of course, one of the other brothers yelled from the end of the hallway.
“YO ENID! WE BROUGHT PROTEIN POWDER AND A MICROWAVE!”
“WE FOUND YOUR BARBIE TOASTER!!”
“WE’RE DOING A FLEX CHALLENGE IN THE PARKING LOT AFTER THAT”
Luca rolled his eyes. “There they go.”
Enid laughed. “We’re definitely hanging out tonight.”
“Cool, send me the address.”
“Okay, see you all for dinner. But only if you survive the parking lot challenge.”
“Oh please,” Luca said, already jogging off. “I’m the undefeated champion of dumb sibling contests.”

After their conversation, all of the 5 Sinclair brothers that were moving boxes around the dorm went to hug Enid tightly.
“We missed you little sister!” Mason said, messing up her hair.

——-

Wednesday stood at the counter, slicing vegetables with unnecessary precision. Each thud of the knife was sharp, clean, and vaguely threatening. The only sound in the kitchen, until Enid shuffled in.
“Hey,” she said, too casually. Her voice had that singsong tone that always preceded things Wednesday didn’t like.
She didn’t even look up. “No.”
Enid blinked. “You don’t even know what I was going to say!”
“I know that tone. That is your ‘I am about to destroy your peace and try to act like it’s adorable’ tone.”
“Well... You do know me. But this time, it’s justified.”
Wednesday paused mid-slice. “…Continue.”
Enid smiled tightly. “Soooo, Luca’s transferring here. He got expelled again, can’t go back home and I just found out this morning.”
A long pause. Wednesday resumed slicing.
“Charming. I’m sure the university will enjoy his presence.”
“That’s not the problem,” Enid said, walking around the island and sitting on a stool. “The problem is that all of my brothers came to help him move... all of them.”
Wednesday stopped again. “You have six.”
“Technically five and a half. One of them believes he’s training to be a centaur now.”
A long blink. “Your family continues to shock me, even after all this years.”
Enid smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

She picked at the hem of her sleeve. “They’re…a lot to handle. And they haven’t seen me in person since, like, too much time. They’re gonna have questions. Especially since we’re, uh...”
“…‘Married’?” Wednesday finished dryly.
“Yeah, that.” Enid tucked her hair behind her ear. “So, I might have told Luca we should all have dinner together. Tonight, here.”
Another long pause.
“Of course,” Wednesday said, voice flat. “What better way to relax after a long week than by feeding six testosterone-fueled enormous boys who believe hockey is a personality?”
“They’re not that bad,” Enid offered, weakly. “They’re just... intense. And sweaty, and competitive, and loud. And very, very protective.”
Wednesday gave her a powerful side-eye. “Are you warning me or yourself?”
Enid bit her lip. “I’m... just saying. Maybe we shouldn’t bring up the whole fake-marriage-for-housing thing right away. They’ll already freak out… about the marriage, about the fact that I married a girl. I just need time to ease them into it.”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You think they’ll be angry.”
Enid looked away. “I think they’ll be shocked; they’re dumb, not cruel. But… yeah, I guess I’m a little nervous.”
Something twisted in Wednesday’s chest. Not unpleasant, but unfamiliar, something warmth.

“I’ll behave.” she said quietly.
Enid smiled, eyes softening. “Thanks.”
There was a beat. Silence stretching just slightly too long.
“You don’t have to pretend to be my doting wife or anything,” Enid added, too quickly. “I mean, it’s not like that.”
Wednesday’s jaw tightened. “Obviously.”
“Right… But maybe, like, stand kind of close to me?” Enid said. “For moral support. Not for fake couple optics, just… you know, I might just need you.”
Wednesday turned back to the vegetables. “I’ll sharpen a second knife.”
Enid beamed.

———-

From the moment they all stepped through the door, it was like walking into a gym with a broken volume knob.
“YOOOO IS THAT MY LITTLE SISTER?”
“ENID!!”
“BRO THE GAME STARTED TEN MINUTES AGO!”
“SOMEONE FIND THE REMOTE!”
“BROOOO IS THAT WEDNESDAY??”
“IS SHE CREEPIER OR WHAT?”
Wednesday blinked once, the television blasted hockey commentary loud enough to rattle the windows.
There was a mountain of protein bars on the kitchen counter.
Someone was doing curls in the living room using a backpack stuffed with textbooks.
Enid was already regretting every decision that had led to this moment, let alone how many things Wednesday was regretting.

“Heyyy,” Enid said. “So, uh. I guess you guys are relaxing yourselves?”
“Our home is where you are” said Troy, balancing a case of energy drinks on one shoulder. “You said this place was cute! We didn’t know it was tiny.”
“You live in a shoebox,” Nico said through a mouthful of chips. “That’s adorable.”

“Hi, Wednesday,” Mason - the oldest and loudest brother - said from the couch. “Are you still doing that thing where you write horror poetry about graveyards and, like, spiders?”
“Hello, Mason” Wednesday replied evenly. “I see you’re still doing that thing where you breathe.”
One of the twins - maybe Jake? - leaned around the fridge door. “So you and Enid are still roommates, huh? Still can’t believe you haven’t killed her in her sleep.”
“I’ve considered it.” Wednesday said.

Enid rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay, everyone shut up.”
“Is there food?” someone yelled from the couch.
“I said shut up!” Enid shouted, stepping into the middle of the chaos. “I have an announcement.”
That got their attention. One by one, the gym bros quieted down, like big golden retrievers tilting their heads in the same direction. Luca was already seated, suspiciously quiet, while he was lowering the TV volume.
“I have to tell you guys something important,” Enid said. “And I don’t want you to be weird about it.

“You’re pregnant,” Jake said immediately.
“I’M NOT PREGNANT,” she snapped.
“You joined a cult,” Mason guessed.
“Closer, but no.”
“You killed a guy and Wednesday helped you bury the body,” said Adam.

Enid threw up her hands. “You guys are idiots. No, I didn’t kill anyone, or join a cult, or whatever! I just-“ She glanced at Wednesday, who stood silently next to her looking very pale and judging.
“I got married.”
Dead silence.
Then-
“WHO IS HE?”
“DOES HE LIFT?”
“WHY DIDN’T YOU INVITE US TO THE WEDDING?”
“DOES HE EVEN KNOW HOW TO MAKE PROTEIN PANCAKES?”
“YOU MARRIED AJAX??”
“YOU’RE EIGHTEEN HOW ARE YOU THE FIRST TO GET MARRIED?”
“DOES HE PLAY HOCKEY?”
“YOU’RE MARRIED???”

“Okay, everybody SHUT. UP,” Enid yelled over them, face red. “You all know Wednesday. She’s my best friend, she has been my roommate since like forever. You’ve all met her or heard about her for years. And now… she’s also my wife.”
More silence.

“You married a girl?”
“You’re gay?”
“…You married Wednesday Addams?” Nico said, blinking like he’d been hit with a hockey puck. “Like… goth, wears all black, might actually be dead inside Wednesday?”
“I’m right here.” She reminded them.
“Yes!” Enid said, exasperated.
“But like - legally married?” Adam asked. “Like also taxes and last names and ring stuff?”
“Yes!” Enid shouted. “All of that!”
“I’m so confused,” said Mason. “Is this like… a weird horror pact?”
Wednesday raised an eyebrow. “Do you think I would bind myself legally to someone for fun?”
“She wouldn’t” Enid added quickly.

“Yo, wait.” Jake leaned over the table. “Do you have rings? Like legit wedding rings?”
Both Enid and Wednesday froze.
“Yes we do.” Enid said, tucking her hands behind her back.
“Oh god, that’s serious” Nico said, already lunging for her hand. “Let me see, is there an engraving or-“
“DON’T TOUCH ME.” Enid slapped his hand away so hard his water bottle hit the floor.
Everyone stared.
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “There’s totally an engraving.”
“There isn’t.”
“There totally is!”
“There isn’t!”
“Then show us!” Mason said, reaching forward.
“NO!” Enid took two steps back, flailing protectively. “Mind your own business!”
Wednesday stared at her, slowly turning her own hand over like she was re-evaluating every assumption she’d ever made. Her voice was low. “You had something engraved.”
“I - what? I mean… maybe! No! Stop asking questions!”
Luca smirked behind his glass of water. “Brooo, this is the best family dinner we’ve ever had.”

————

The chaotic dinner was finally wound down. Plates were cleared, the last stubborn crumbs vacuumed up. The brothers had left for the night, still buzzing with their loud jokes echoing.
Enid and Wednesday collapsed on the couch together, exhausted.
Enid nudged Wednesday with her elbow, teasing.
“So... what did you think of my circus of brothers? You hadn’t seen them all in a while.” she asked, watching Wednesday’s face carefully.
“They’re loud, dumb, and annoyingly loyal. I’m impressed they managed not to break anything valuable tonight.”
Enid laughed. “Yeah, that’s a miracle.”

“But really... did you like them? I know it’s a lot to handle all at once.”
“They’re… different from anyone I know. I think I never saw them all in the same room before tonight. It gets loud, but kinda… refreshing. The way they protect you it’s honourable, even if it’s kind of over the top.”
Enid smiled, eyes shining with affection, as she listened to her favourite person talking about her family.
“Yeah, they can be a handful, but they love me in their own ridiculous way.”
Wednesday looked over, a small smirk tugging at her lips.
“I’m not exactly used to so much noise around, you must know.”
“Well, you’ll get used to it. They’re family.”

“I’m glad you have them.”
“I’m glad I have you.”

—————

After their little conversation, they went to change in their pajamas, then they both entered their shared bedroom.

Enid was brushing her hair beside the bed. Wednesday, sitting at the desk across the room, looked like she was lost in her thoughts, while turning her ring around her finger slowly.
“Enid,” she said, without looking up. “May I see your ring?”
Enid glanced over, a worried look on her face. “Why?”
“You became… unusually agitated when your brothers asked about the engraving.”
“I was unusually agitated because Nico was trying to yank it off my hand!”
Wednesday gave her a look that could kill.
Enid crossed her arms. “Fine. What do you want to see?”
“Just the inside.” Wednesday stood up and walked over slowly. “I know you had it engraved, but you never told me.”

“You never told me either.”
That stopped Wednesday short. “…What?”
Enid raised her hand. “I saw you were panicking too. You first.”
Wednesday narrowed her eyes, then carefully and slowly removed the ring from her finger and handed it to Enid, who turned it and focused on reading the inscription inside.
"In tenebris, lucem tuam sequor."
Her throat tightened. “Latin?”
Wednesday nodded quietly. “It means… ‘In the darkness, I follow your light.’”
Enid waited, her eyes watering, while Wednesday exhaled slowly, eyes distant for a moment.

“This past summer, before college… I was not enjoying life; like, even less than I usually do. I was lost, I think. I felt like I was wandering in darkness the whole time, and you… you were the only one who ever showed me light, the only one who made me want to keep moving. It’s like you were the only person who I was attracted to. Not in, like, a weird way, but in the way moths are attracted to light. You were my only source of energy, the only one I kept looking for in disorientation.”
Then, she finally found the courage to look back at Enid, voice soft, almost a whisper.
“So I had it engraved, as a reminder that no matter how dark it gets, I follow you.”
Enid didn’t speak for a moment, but her eyes - who were shining even more - were speaking for her.
Then, with slightly shaking fingers, she slide off her own ring and gave it to Wednesday, looking directly into her eyes.
She couldn’t find the words to describe how she was feeling. Maybe there weren’t words to express the feeling she was experiencing.
What could you even say when your stoic and emotionally unavailable best friend who you have a crush on says that you’re her light? That she’d always follow you?

Wednesday took the ring with extreme care and shoot her eyes for a second before reading the inside, like she was preparing herself for what she was about to read.
"You make sense. - W."
She stared at it for seconds, maybe minutes, her brain processing what that could mean, her heart threatening to explode for how hard it was beating.

“You engraved my initial into yours?” she asked, her voice slightly shaking.
“I did.” Enid just answered, with a shy smile.
“Why do I… make sense?” Wednesday continued, without raising her look from the ring she was holding, like it could ran away, like she was afraid the engraving could disappear if she stopped looking.
“Because, Weds… you have such a powerful influence on me. You make everything make sense. You remind me that, even if my own world is full of glitter and sparkly colours and chaos, the real world is different. You remind me that sometimes it’s better to just chill, to organise my thoughts, than to jump into sudden conclusions or reactions. It’s like you’re the one who slows down the chaos in my head, especially the bad kind of chaos. Like when I’m with you all the noise goes way, and my mind goes quiet.
You make my life make sense, I’m pretty sure about that, and I’m so glad you’re in it.”

There was a long silence after Enid spoke.
A silence so complete, so unnaturally still, that even the house seemed to hold its breath.
Wednesday finally raised her look and started staring at her.
No one had ever said anything like that to her before. No one had ever looked at her like that, like she was a quiet place in a thunderstorm.
She felt it: that ache of being known, of being loved not despite her darkness, but because of it.
Her throat was dry; the fingers of her free hand hitched to reach for Enid's, but she didn’t move. Not yet.

“You…” she said quietly, eyes narrowing just slightly. “You really believe that?”
Enid nodded. “I do.”
Wednesday's voice was softer than it ever was before. “You think I bring you peace.”
Enid smiled faintly, a little sheepishly. “I know you do.”

Wednesday’s jaw twitched. Her eyes flicked downward, then back up again, fast.
She looked… overwhelmed, not panicked - Wednesday Addams did not panic - but impacted.
“I never meant to influence you,” she said slowly. “But if I did… I’m glad it was toward calm and not destruction.”
Enid chuckled gently. “You kind of do both.”
Wednesday’s lips barely quirked, and Enid noticed.
Then, Wednesday’s voice dropped lower, almost becoming a whisper.
“I’ve spent most of my life making people uncomfortable, it used to make me feel powerful.” She swallowed. “But with you… I don’t want power. I want peace. And if I give you that, too, even by accident, then perhaps the chaos was worth surviving.”

And in that moment, her hand did reach for Enid’s - slow, unsure - and when their fingers met, her grip was steady.
“May I have my ring back now, Mrs. Addams-Sinclair?” She said then, when her breathing was almost completely normal.
Enid snorted, sliding it back on her wife’s finger. “Only if I get mine too, Mrs. Addams-Sinclair.” she said, placing her hand in front of her.
Wednesday sighed and shook her head, but slide the ring back on Enid’s ring finger, her eyes never leaving Enid’s.

Their fingers were intertwined, their looks tangled to each other, and the space between them had shrunk to nothing, so much their foreheads were almost touching.
Wednesday’s eyes flicked down to Enid’s lips - barely - and back up.
Enid’s chest heaved; she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. Wednesday was right there, her hand was tingling and trembling in Enid’s, but she wasn’t letting go: she didn’t want to, and Enid didn’t either.
They leaned in, achingly slow. Inches. Millimetres.
Their breaths mingled, soft and uneven.
Enid’s eyes fluttered shut, Wednesday tilted her head.
They both realised they were going to kiss. Finally.
Their noses brushed.

And then-
BANG.

“THERE’S A RAT IN THE KITCHEN WEARING A SNEAKER!”
The door slammed open with the force of a hurricane.
Yoko barreled in, brandishing a spatula like a weapon. “IT’S HUGE!”
Enid screamed, her face flaming.
Wednesday jolted backward, one hand flying to her temple in quiet, murderous rage.
Yoko stopped dead, looked between them and blinked.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. “Was this a moment? Did I just obliterate the moment? Is this what heartbreak feels like?“
Wednesday stood up, slow and deliberate, like a cat about to kill.
“Yoko Tanaka,” she said calmly, “run.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday followed Yoko, running like an olympian for the first place, but she had already disappeared from the house.
So, twenty minutes later, Wednesday was still standing stiffly in the kitchen, gripping her phone like a weapon, not exactly knowing what to do, say or even think.
But she dialed.
“Wednesday?” Pugsley’s voice came through, sleepy. “It’s past midnight, did someone die?”
“Not yet,” she said. “But it’s possible I’m next.”
“…What?”
There was a pause. She wasn’t good at this. She pressed the phone harder to her ear, sighed and prepared mentally to speak.
“I almost kissed her.” she muttered.
Pugsley was silent for a beat too long. “Who?”
“You know who, do not play stupid.”
“Oh. Oh, Enid.”
Wednesday gritted her teeth. “Yes, Enid. The girl I literally married, the one who disrupts my order, my silence, and my carefully cultivated disinterest in romance. I almost kissed her, Pugsley.”
“Okay, and... how do you feel?”
“I feel…” she cut herself off. “Like my chest is tight. Like my fingers are trembling and I don’t know what to do with them. Like something is unraveling in me and I don't know whether I want to sew it back together or watch it fall apart.”
“...Whoa,” he said softly. “That’s so poetic of you.”
“I’m dying.”
“You’re not dying, you’re just… feeling. Why didn’t you kiss her, tho?”
“Because, I don't know what happens next. We said things, real things. And then we almost kissed, before Yoko bursted into our room. That moment was so real... I’m exposed now, we both are, and I don’t know what to do with that.”
Pugsley was quiet. Then:
“You really care about her.”
“You’re not helping.”
Wednesday exhaled. Her shoulders slumped just barely.

Pugsley smiled on the other end. “What scares you?”
“I’m not scared.”
He waited.
“…I’m mildly horrified.”
“You’re allowed to be overwhelmed. Just… talk to her when you feel ready. You both know how you feel now, right? You’re already married, for gods’ sake.”
“That was an accident.”
“Yeah, a pretty convenient one, right?”

“…Thank you,” Wednesday said quietly. “I’m gonna go now.”
“Anytime.”
After she hung up, she just lay there, unsure of what to do; she sat there in the stillness, staring at the hallway that led back to Enid, her heartbeat still hammering in her ears.

Slowly, cautiously, she started walking to get back in the room. Maybe she was ready to talk.
The room was dim, lit only by moonlight slipping through the curtains.

There - curled under the blanket - was Enid.
Peaceful, vulnerable, asleep. The soft rise and fall of her chest like a quiet rhythm Wednesday hadn’t realized she had grown to love.
Her mind spun with everything she wanted to say, everything hanging in the air between them.
She stood still for a moment - watching her wife sleeping so peacefully - torn between retreat and closeness.
She was beautiful. She looked like everything Wednesday had ever wanted, even if she didn’t think she could want someone. Not until recently.

Lost in her thoughts - with the faintest hesitation - she eased down beside Enid, careful not to wake her.
She settled close enough to feel the warmth, the steady breathing, the smell.

Slowly, carefully, she started moving closer and closer, as if drawn by an invisible thread.
Her fingers twitched, then she let her arm inch forward, resting lightly across Enid’s side.
Almost like a hug - still tentative, hesitant - but full of quiet longing.
She stayed like that, her breath mingling with Enid’s steady rhythm, heart pounding in her ears, everything else fading away.

————

They woke up tangled together, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Neither of them said a word about the almost-kiss from the night before; actually, they both pretended it never happened.
Enid filled the silence with way too many words, nervously jumping between topics: the weather, the weird dream she had where she was riding a pony that turned out to be a giant lizard, some random thoughts about the week ahead. Wednesday, quiet and unreadable, kept her gaze fixed on some invisible point on the ceiling, her eyes refusing to meet Enid’s. But how much could she resist without looking at her, after everything she had realised? (Spoiler: not much.)

—————

Just some minutes after breakfast, Enid was sitting and brushing her hair in front of the big bedroom mirror. She had to hurry up, or she’d be late for class: Divina was already waiting for her in the kitchen.
She knew she had to be faster, but she couldn’t; her mind continued to wander.
She couldn’t help but think about the night before, the moment she was about to kiss the girl she had loved for years now.
About the words they shared about each other.

Still in her own world she paused, mid-stroke, feeling a subtle weight on her shoulder.
Wednesday was standing right behind her, arms folded, watching her with that unreadable look that made Enid’s heart hiccup.
Enid tried to play it cool and keep brushing her hair, but her hand trembled slightly.
Suddenly, their eyes locked in the mirror; Wednesday’s gaze was softer than usual, vulnerable even.
Enid swallowed hard, feeling the air thicken between them.
They continued to look at each other in a way that felt too good to be real, but neither said a word.
Wednesday’s breath hitched, her fingers twitching, inching closer.
Enid’s heartbeat thundered, so incredibly loud she was sure Wednesday could hear it.
Just as Wednesday’s hand was about to brush a stray strand behind Enid’s ear, the door creaked open.
“Enid, we’re gonna be so late!” Divina screamed, oblivious of what she was interrupting.

—————-

“Oh, there you are! I’m gonna kill you!” Enid squealed as soon as she saw Yoko, when she finished her lessons.
“Oh hi, Addams-Sinclair!” Yoko just said, casually.
“I’m so mad at you!” Enid said, stepping closer to her with a menacing look in her eyes.

“Come on, spill! What happened last night? You two were this close to kissing!” She said, not even a bit worried about how scary Enid was looking.
“Yeah, really? Oh, I didn’t notice that! It’s not like you bursted into our house uninvited and complained about a rat that I highly doubt was there, just right when me and my wife were about to kiss for the first time!” Enid’s face was red with angriness, her tone sarcastic at first but full of rage at the end of the sentence.
“Divina kicked me out last night! She said I was committing a crime against humanity by adding ketchup to pasta! I had nowhere else to go!” She tried to justify herself, but Enid raised an eyebrow.
“You two don’t even live together! You had your own place to go to!”

“You’re technically right, but maybe I didn’t wanna be alone” Yoko said, trying to look cute making puppy eyes but failing miserably.
“Yeah, maybe don’t show up uninvited and don’t scream about rats next time!”
“I’m sorry, a terrible grey plushie of yours probably fell off from the couch to one of your shoes. It scared me, okay?”
“First of all, don’t insult my plushies. Secondly, you’re forgiven, but if you interrupt something like that again I’ll let Wednesday torture you.”
“Oh god no. I can’t survive her quoting weird horror authors for more than two minutes. And don’t talk like her!” Yoko said dramatically, and Enid finally had a laugh.

“So… did you kiss, after I left?” She asked, her tone more serious now.
“Yoko, no. We didn’t kiss.”
“But… the energy was there; you did the whole ‘hover hand over mouth, stare at each other like you’re in some romantic movie’ thing. You guys have been married for months and still acting like middle schoolers on a field trip.”
“It isn’t like that. We… read the engravings on our rings, and it kind of felt like we confessed without actually saying it.” Enid said, her cheeks reddening.
“Engravings? Wait, wait. This is new information. You had your rings engraved?“
“It wasn’t planned! We each had our own secret message on the inside but the other didn’t know. Wednesday’s was Latin. Mine was… well, mine was ‘You make sense’, and then a ‘W’.”
“Oh, God, you’re going full rom-com on me.“ Yoko said, shaking her head.
“It was a big deal, okay? Especially for Wednesday. She explained she got her engraving - that said something like ‘In the darkness, I follow your light’ - because last summer she was lost, and I was the only light in her life.”
“What? Did Wednesday get poetic on you? I thought she was allergic to feelings.” Yoko screamed, shocked.
“She was. Kinda still is, but that moment was… different.”
“So then what? Did you two just sit there, looking awkward and watching each other’s faces?”
“Pretty much. We were about to kiss but then I think you know what happened next.” Enid said, her angry expression back on.
“Guilty as charged! I’ll let you lovebirds have your moments in peace, I promise! I mean, I’ll try to.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You two are! Soooo are you finally going to stop pretending and just kiss already?” Yoko asked, hopeful.
“I don’t know. It feels like we’re on the edge of something big. I’m scared, and I don’t think I’m ready.”
“Being scared means it’s real. So, please, kiss that girl. Or at least hold hands, or wink. Something. Please.”
“I’ll think about it.” Enid said, laughing, as she stepped back towards the house she shared with Wednesday.
But Yoko wasn’t done with them two, and she knew Wednesday was about to finish class to.

—————-

Wednesday walked briskly down the hallway, black boots clicking with intent, trying to pretend she didn’t know she was being followed.
Yoko was grinning behind her, practically bouncing.

“So, you almost kissed your wife, huh?”
Wednesday didn’t even turn around. “Don’t use that word like that.”
“What? Wife?” Yoko’s voice rose theatrically. “The woman you legally married and almost kissed last night after whispering sweet nothings?”
Wednesday’s ears turned pink.
“You heard us? And I don’t whisper. And they were not sweet nothings. It was-” she turned sharply, misjudged a stair step, and-
THUD.
Wednesday Addams, local goth menace and master of emotional repression, hit the floor in a tangle of black and dignity.
“Oh my god - are you okay?!” Yoko ran forward, horrified but already snorting.
Wednesday groaned and clutched her thigh. “I believe I’ve torn a muscle.”
Yoko blinked, then cackled.
“OH MY GOD. Did you just… fall for Enid?!”
Wednesday gave her the deadliest glare she could manage from the floor.
“Okay, I’ll take you to the nurse before your eyes kill me.” She then said, still holding back laughs.

The nurse, a kind-eyed woman who looked like she’d been dealing with dramatic college kids for twenty years, examined Wednesday’s leg with practiced calm.
“It’s a minor muscle tear, nothing too serious. But it’s in an awkward place, so it’ll need some care.”
Wednesday frowned. “Care?”
“Massage, twice a day,” the nurse replied. “With topical treatment, and you’ll need help reaching the area properly, so it would be nice if someone could do that for you.”
Yoko’s eyes sparkled. “Help, huh? I know just the right person for that.”
“That’s perfect!” The nurse said, smiling softly, while Wednesday’s only wish was to disappear from the universe.

—————

Enid was pacing by the door when Yoko and Wednesday came in, Yoko helping Wednesday to walk.
“Oh my god - what happened?!” She asked, so worried that the plant she was holding fell to the floor.
“She fell.” Yoko said, way too cheerfully.
Wednesday glared. “I was ambushed by the floor.”
“She has a muscle tear,” Yoko added. “Needs… oh, what was it again? Oh, right, a sensual massage twice a day, by someone gentle, tender, someone… like a concerned wife”
“THAT’S NOT WHAT THE NURSE SAID.” Wednesday snapped, her face rapidly turning the color of Enid’s favorite hoodie.
Enid’s jaw dropped. “Wait, massage?! Me? You?”
Wednesday blinked, then, very calmly said, “I will simply perish.” and started walking away as she could.
“No Weds, come!” Enid screamed.

————-

Wednesday sat stiffly on the couch, arms crossed, looking like a gargoyle glaring into the void.
Enid stood nearby, frozen, holding the little bottle of topical cream like it was a live grenade.
“Okay,” Enid said finally. “This is fine. Totally normal, it’s no big deal.”
Wednesday slowly turned her head to stare at her.
“Do you need to lie down and look at my thigh or do you intend to give this monologue standing up?”
Enid let out a nervous laugh. “Right, okay, thigh time.”
“What?” Wednesday said, confused.

Enid sat down next to Wednesday, heart thumping like a war drum. Wednesday shifted, exposing the side of her thigh, which was slightly red, visibly sore.
Enid gulped. “Oh, this looks bad… sorry in advance if I kill you.”
“I’ve survived poison, drowning, and six years of summer camp,” Wednesday said dryly. “You applying ointment with trembling hands is unlikely to be my undoing.”
“Cool.” Enid muttered, uncapping the bottle.
She squeezed a bit onto her hand and rubbed her palms together, as if warming up for surgery. She placed her hand gently on Wednesday’s leg and…
Sparks; absolute sparks.
The room felt five degrees hotter, Enid’s heart was pounding. Her fingers, gently moving on Wednesday’s thigh, were trembling slightly.
Wednesday didn’t move; didn’t even breathe, she stared straight ahead like a soldier under fire, but internally? Complete emotional static.
Because Enid’s hands were warm and careful, and she was murmuring a soft “Tell me if it hurts” and her brows were all furrowed with concern and Wednesday might actually explode from the sheer intimacy of this completely medical, absolutely platonic, massage.

“Are you okay?” Enid asked quietly, still rubbing in slow, circular motions.
Wednesday cleared her throat. “Yes. I’m merely… contemplating my mortality.”
“That’s fair,” Enid whispered. She was definitely blushing. “This is weird, right?”
“Unbearably.”
Enid’s hands continued to move gently over Wednesday’s thigh, slow and focused, careful not to press too hard. Her touch was warm and steady, but her face - normally way more expressive - was unreadable, brows slightly drawn, lips parted just a little in concentration.

The silence that followed wasn’t empty, but thick with something neither of them had the language for yet.
“I’ve never had to do this before,” Enid said eventually, with a nervous laugh. “Massage someone. I mean, not like this. Not someone who…” Her voice trailed off, and she didn’t finish the sentence.
Wednesday’s gaze slid to her. “Who what?”
“Who makes me nervous.” Enid admitted.
Wednesday blinked. “I make you nervous?”
Enid gave a soft laugh, still focused on her hands. “Only all the time.”

“Well, I trust you in this. You’re doing well.” she said then, her voice quiet and unusually soft.
That made Enid pause. She looked up again, her smile faltering into something softer, something a little more fragile.
“I trust you too, always.”

There it was again: that stillness, that strange, charged quiet that hovered between them every time they got too close. Enid’s fingers stilled on her thigh, but she didn’t pull away.
Neither of them moved.
Then, gently, tentatively, Wednesday shifted on the couch.
Just slightly, just enough to be closer. Enid noticed that.
Their eyes met, and neither of them dared to break the gaze.
“I don’t know what we’re doing,” Enid said, her voice almost a whisper. “But I don’t want to stop.”
Wednesday nodded slowly. “Neither do I.”
Her hand twitched against her lap like she might reach out, but she didn’t.
She wanted to; she wanted so many things she didn’t know how to name.
And for a moment - just one suspended breath of time - she let herself look at Enid the way she’d been trying not to. Open, unmasked.
It was enough, it was everything she needed.

And then-
BANG.
The front door flung open with all the grace of a car crash.
“Hey, roomwives!” Ajax’s voice rang out cheerfully from the hallway. “Do either of you have almond milk? I forgot to - oh.”
He appeared in the living room, blinking at the sight of Enid almost straddling Wednesday’s legs, both of them sitting on the couch like they’d been caught in the middle of something.
Ajax’s mouth opened, shut, and opened again in less than five seconds.

“…Am I interrupting-?”
THWACK.
A hardcover volume of Wuthering Heights hit him square in the chest.
“GO AWAY.” Wednesday said with lethal calm.
Ajax stumbled back, holding the book like it was evidence in a crime scene. “Okay, okay! Almond milk is not worth dying for!”
He shuffled out of the apartment in record time, muttering, “She’s always so sensitive…”
Silence fell again.
Enid buried her face in her hands. “Was it necessary to hit him?”
Wednesday leaned back against the couch, perfectly deadpan. “Next time, I’ll aim for his head.”

Chapter Text

Enid peeked through her fingers. “You know he’s going to tell Yoko, right?”
“I expect nothing less from him.” Wednesday replied coldly. “Let Yoko send us another balloon bouquet. Perhaps this time it will explode in her face.”

Enid groaned and leaned back against the couch, her head flopping onto Wednesday’s shoulder without thought - or maybe with too much thought. She didn’t even flinch when she realised, she just… stayed there. Like it was normal.
“Well,” Enid said after a pause, her voice muffled in Wednesday’s shoulder, “should we-“
“That was… something.” Wednesday interrupted her.
“You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t feel like it!” Enid said quickly, her cheeks red.
“I want to.” She replied, looking directly into her eyes.
“Okay.” Enid said, swallowing hard.

“Do you want to… kiss me, Enid?”
“WHAT? You mean if I want to kiss my fake wife for financial reasons to pretend we’re really married?”
Wednesday tilted her head. “Is that what you think this is about? Pretending?”
Enid blinked. “I… I mean, what do you think?”
Wednesday didn’t answer right away. Instead, she reached over and gently took Enid’s fidgeting hands in her own. Her thumbs traced slow, deliberate circles into Enid’s knuckles.
“You’ve been sleeping in my bed for a while.”
“You keep turning off my alarm and making me coffee.” Enid whispered.
“You bought us matching pajamas, twice.” Wednesday countered.
“I never thought you’d wear the second one, the one that says ‘Soul’ and matches with my ‘Mate’ one.” Enid laughed.
“But I do.”

“Do you want to kiss me, Wednesday?”
“I’ve been trying to since yesterday, but your stupid friends keep interrupting.”
“They’re also your friends! It’s not totally my fault.”
“I don’t have such things as friends.” Wednesday said, offended. “I tolerate them just because they’re adjacent to you.”

“You really want to kiss me?” Enid asked, her voice a whisper. “I didn’t think you’d ever want to”
“I didn’t think you’d make my chest feel like a crime scene every time you smiled at me.”
Enid’s breath caught audibly in her throat.
Neither of them moved for a long moment, then Wednesday leaned in, - just barely - the air between them buzzing like static.
And then, finally, she closed the space between them.
The kiss was soft, a careful press of lips that felt like a secret being told. Enid melted forward, fingers curling around Wednesday’s wrists. One of them sighed; the other forgot how to breathe.
It wasn’t long, but it was truthful.
When they pulled apart, Enid’s voice was barely audible. “So… we’re married-married now?”
Wednesday’s eyes flickered down to Enid’s lips again. “We’ll renegotiate the contract later.”
Enid laughed - dizzy, bright, half in love and all in disbelief - and leaned in to kiss her again.
This time, neither of them stopped.

“OH MY GOD,” Yoko’s voice rang from outside, muffled by the walls but unmistakably excited, while she was peeking from the window with someone else.
“AJAX SAID THEY WERE BASICALLY CUDDLING, NOT KISSING”
Wednesday stood up like someone had sounded an air raid siren. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh my god,” Enid whispered again, but this time in pure horror. “Please don’t kill her.”

Wednesday started to walk to get to the door, but she limped, so the walk lasted longer than expected, but as soon as she got there, the front door was yanked open with the same force Ajax had used earlier.
Yoko stood in the hallway holding a pink banner with sparkly letters and a roll of tape.
Behind her, Divina was shaking a can of glitter spray with a big, almost creepy, smile.
Wednesday stared. Slowly, blankly. The kind of stare that could make grown men cry and go hide.
Yoko smiled, because she had no survival instinct. “Hey, bestie-wife-in-law.”
“No.” Wednesday said.
Divina blinked. “No what?”
“No to anything this is.”

Yoko grinned. “We’re making you a ‘Just married married’ sign. We brought matching hats too! They say ‘Wenid’ and ‘rules’.”
Wednesday took one look at the situation, turned around, and walked back into the apartment.
“I’ve decided,” she said, utterly composed, “we are moving.”
Enid laughed until her stomach hurt.
“We just moved!” She said, in between the laughs.
“Well I can’t stand these people who clearly don’t have much to do in life and so they invade our privacy.”
Enid was still breathless with laughter on the couch, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.
“You can’t just run away from your problems, Wednesday,” she teased.

“You guys just kissed!” Yoko screamed, beaming. “I told you you were endgame!”
“Yoko,” Wednesday said, calm and lethal, “if you say the word ‘endgame’ again in my presence, I will personally haunt your TikTok account.”
Yoko gasped. “You watched my TikTok account?”
Divina echoed her gasp and stage-whispered, “That means she loves you.”
“I do not.”
“She does.”
“I do not.”

Wednesday turned to go back inside, muttering about the decline of civilization and why she should’ve poisoned the banner.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Yoko called. “Okay, we’ll go! But just one question.”
Wednesday paused, halfway back through the door.
“Was it good?” Yoko wiggled her eyebrows. “The kiss?”
Wednesday stared at her. Then, ever so slowly, she replied:
“…She made my lungs forget how to function.”
And with that, she closed the door.
Enid was still sitting on the couch, now blushing so hard she looked like a sunrise. “You said what?!”
Wednesday dropped beside her, straight-faced. “I’m not repeating myself.”

——————

The next morning, Enid woke up with her face squished into Wednesday’s shoulder.
Also, she had one leg shamelessly thrown over her wife’s lap.
Correction: her married-married wife.
She blinked.
Wednesday was already awake, of course, because she never slept past sunrise like a normal human; she was leaning back against the headboard, one hand lazily flipping through a book titled ‘The Art of Corpse Preservation’, and the other resting dangerously close to Enid’s hip.
“Good morning.” Wednesday said, without looking up.
Enid made a high-pitched noise that might’ve been English in another far away life and immediately rolled off her, only to land face-first on the floor with a thump.
Wednesday didn’t react, but her mouth twitched. “Graceful.”

“I hate you” Enid groaned from the floorboards.
“You didn’t say that yesterday when you were kissing me like it was the only thing that mattered in life.”
Enid’s soul briefly left her body.
She peeked over the bed edge, hair sticking up like static. “You’re really talking about that?!”
“You brought it up by falling dramatically at my feet.” Wednesday shrugged. “Don’t blame me for having a good memory.”

Enid climbed back into bed, burying herself in the blanket and only leaving her eyes visible. “Do we need to renegotiate the contract now?”
“We can. Or,” Wednesday said casually, “we can do it again and skip the overanalysis.”
“…I vote skip.”
Wednesday smirked and leaned over, brushing her fingers along Enid’s jaw - only for a violent knock to rattle the front door.
“NO.” Wednesday shouted instinctively.
But, from the other side, it came a “You can’t hide forever! Married people still come to brunch!”
Enid peeked out of the blankets. “Is that-“
“Yoko,” Wednesday sighed. “Of course.”
“We brought mimosas and emotional support glitter!” Ajax added cheerfully.

Wednesday turned to Enid, completely serious. “Would it be suspicious if we told everyone we got divorced overnight?”
“Yes, and also rude.”
“…Then I’m not answering the door.”
“Too late!” came Divina’s voice.
The unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock echoed through the apartment. “Ajax has the spare key Enid gave him!”
Wednesday closed her eyes and turned to her wife slowly. “You gave your dumb ex a spare key to our house?”
“I really trust him! What if we both fall into a big hole and lose our keys? Someone gotta save us! Also, how do you think he entered the house just yesterday night?”
Wednesday did not respond, but she looked at the door, hearing loud steps into her house, and said: “I’m going to murder them. Slowly, and in alphabetical order.”

The door flew open. Ajax entered first, holding a tray of suspiciously orange drinks; behind him, Yoko strode in like a wedding planner on speed.
“Wives!” Yoko announced. “I have coordinated brunch outfits, an apology balloon that says 'Sorry for Watching Through Your Window', and a list of questions.”
“We’re not answering anything.” Wednesday said, not moving from the bed.
“I only have one real question,” Yoko said, eyes gleaming. “Who kissed who first?”
Ajax perked up. “Oh, yeah. That’s been a huge debate on group chat.”
“There’s a group chat?” Enid said, horrified.
“Oh, babe,” Divina said gently. “There are several.”

Before either of the actual wives could respond, Yoko tossed a t-shirt onto the bed. It was black and pink and glittery. In bold letters it read:
“I kissed my wife and I got unnecessary attention.”
Wednesday stared at it. “…I’m wearing it to spite you.”
“YES!” Yoko fist-pumped.
“And then I’m burning it in the yard.”
“Fair,” Divina nodded. “As long as we get a photo first.”
Enid leaned against Wednesday, hiding her smile behind her hand. “You like them.”
“I tolerate them because I like you.” Wednesday replied without missing a beat.
Enid turned to face her, a soft smile playing on her lips. “So you do like me.”
“Were the kisses not enough of a clue?”
—————-
After the two wives got up from their bed and got everyone in the kitchen, someone who didn’t live in that house entered the front door for the second time that morning, their voice yelling “I think you or your scary wife left the door open, sisty!”
Luca Sinclair entered the room like a linebacker crashing into a family reunion holding his gym duffle, lightly dusted in sparkles. His baseball cap said ‘Sinclair Fitness’.
Everyone froze.
Yoko blinked. “Is that your brother?”
Enid looked like she’d just been caught shoplifting in church. “He was supposed to come after lunch!”
Luca looked around the room. First, at Ajax with the mimosas, then at Yoko and Divina, who were inexplicably wrestling with a folding brunch table. Then finally, at Wednesday who, in her black sleep shirt and thousand-yard-stare, looked like a gothic cryptid who had been forced to host a bachelorette party.
“Luca, bro, is that you?” Ajax asked, stepping forward. “I’ve missed you so-”
“Hey bro! I’ve heard you’re obsessed with some guy?” Luca interrupted.
Ajax choked on his own name.
“I… uh, we- okay yes but also that’s not what we’re leading with.” he stammered.
Yoko waved. “Hi, I’m Yoko. I made the banners you see around the house. Please don’t sue me.”
Divina added cheerfully, “Do you want a pancake? Or a t-shirt? We have both.”
Luca looked at his sister. “Enid. What. Is. Happening.”
“Our friends decided to throw a party for Wednesday and me I guess” Enid said brightly, grabbing a mimosa and refusing to explain further.

He stared at her, then he turned to Wednesday, who was calmly buttering toast like she hadn’t recently kissed her roommate-turned-accidental-wife and then threatened multiple people before 10 a.m.
“How are you doing, sister in law?” Luca said, swallowing.
“How do you think I’m doing?” Wednesday said, deadpan.
Yoko whispered, “She said her lungs stopped functioning.”
“What?” he asked, more confused than before, and sat down on the couch without being invited to do so; he looked at all of them, and then said, “Okay, I’m gonna need protein to cope with whatever this all is.”
“We have bacon!” Divina chirped, holding up a glittery plate.
“…Why is it sparkling?”
Ajax looked at the bacon, looked back at Luca, and said with absolute sincerity, “You learn not to ask.”
——————-
“Hey guys! We had things to do, I’m sorry! But now we’re he- who are you?” Bianca said, entering the house with Xavier.
“I’m Luca, Enid‘s brother” Luca said proudly, standing up.
“Enid has a brother?” she said, shocked.
“I actually have many” the girl replied, laughing.
“Are all of them this good looking?”
“He’s gay” Enid just said, before Luca could even comment on the compliment he just got.
“And weren’t you with Xavier?” Ajax asked and, before Bianca could answer, a loud noise was heard.

Yoko accidentally hit her tote bag, making it fall to the ground, too excited to show the group what she had done; when she reached it, she took matching pink and black bingo cards from it. “Okay, now that everyone's here, we’re doing Wife Behavior Bingo.”
Wednesday blinked. “I don’t know what that is, but I already hate it.”
“It’s easy!” Yoko said, handing out cards with categories like Shared Hoodie, Domestic Bickering Over Coffee, Subtle PDA That’s Not Subtle, and Lung Malfunction from Eye Contact. “First to complete a row wins!”
“I’m not playing this game.” Wednesday said.
“You already have three boxes marked,” Divina pointed out. “Including ‘says she hates everyone except her wife’ and ‘accidentally compliments her soulmate.’”
“She is not my soulmate.”
“Would your lungs like to comment?” Yoko grinned.
Wednesday threw a napkin at her face, and Enid laughed hard.
“You’re not letting her forget that, are you?” she said.

Luca watched all of this happen like someone being shown footage of his sister’s secret double life. “Do y’all just... do this? Like, regularly?”
Ajax clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Buddy, this is only brunch.”
“There’s a more intense level than this?” Luca asked, clearly re-evaluating everything he thought he knew about his sister.
“Oh yeah,” Enid said proudly, stabbing her glitter pancake. “Wait ‘til karaoke night.”
“We did a group cry over The Princess Bride last week,” Yoko said. “Wednesday didn’t cry, but she glared really hard during the kissing scenes, which we counted as emotional investment.”
“I was glaring at the cinematography.” Wednesday muttered.
Enid bumped her shoulder affectionately. “Sure you were.”
Ajax raised his mimosa. “To the married-married wives!”
Everyone clinked their drinks together, except Wednesday, who toasted with her coffee mug while maintaining full eye contact with the ceiling.
Yoko leaned in toward Luca. “So, you in?”
“In what?”
“This weird group. I mean, you seem nice and we need another gay person here; also, your sister’s our wife-in-law now, so you’re kinda family by extension.”
“What did you just say?” Wednesday muttered.
Luca hesitated; he had no one there at college, he was just the new guy. No matter how beautiful, charming or muscular he was, he was alone.

Divina handed him a ‘Wife Behavior Bingo’ card.
“…Yeah,” he said, against his better judgment. “Screw it, let’s do this.”
“YESSS,” Yoko screamed. “New himbo unlocked!”
“I’m not a himbo,” Luca said.
“You just drank protein shake out of a glitter cup.” Divina said.

Enid leaned her head on Wednesday’s shoulder again, this time without hesitation. “You’re not going to poison everyone, right?”
“I make no promises.” Wednesday said, wrapping an arm around her waist, but she didn’t move away.

Chapter Text

It was another damned day and Wednesday was halfway through stabbing a questionable-looking cafeteria banana when Bianca slid into the seat across from her, raising an eyebrow as if she’d just caught Wednesday doing something deeply suspicious.
“Do you always eat fruit like it insulted your ancestors?” Bianca asked, peeling an orange like it was an art form.
“I like to keep it afraid.” Wednesday replied coolly.
Bianca smirked. “Soooo, how’s married life?”
Wednesday didn’t even look up. “Tax-efficient.”
“That’s not a real answer.”
“It is if you’re the IRS.”

Bianca chuckled, then leaned in slightly, her tone softening. “Come on, seriously. How are you two doing? Emotionally, romantically… fully married?”
Wednesday gave her a long, measured look. “We are… somewhere. Not fully married in the ‘sharing bank accounts and dental appointments’ way, nor in the ‘madly in love, a kiss every minute’ one. We’re still figuring it out. The marriage is still a legal coincidence.”
Bianca smiled thoughtfully. “That’s totally a surprise. You? Not rushing? Who knew.” she said, ironically.
“Funny. As a dead fish in someone’s sneaker.” Wednesday replied.
“I make bad jokes if I’m not being told what I’d like to hear” Bianca raised her shoulders casually.
“Well you’ll have to wait a few years apparently, because me and Enid may be bonded in formal documents but we’re not actually marrie-“
Before she could finish her (untruthful) sentence, a blur of pastel colors entered the cafeteria at full sprint.
“Hey, Bianca! Do you know we adopted a baby?!” Enid’s voice boomed from the entrance. “We’re moms now!”

Bianca froze mid-orange section. “...What.”
Enid flopped on Wednesday’s lap, cheeks flushed and beaming; Wednesday calmly took another bite of her banana.
“Would you like to try again, but with context?” Bianca blinked.
“Oh!” Enid said brightly, already pulling out her phone. “Wait - rewind.”

FLASHBACK: Yesterday, 3:12 p.m.
Enid was walking back from her Communication lecture, brain full of semi-interesting notes and heart ready for a snack, when she saw it.
A golden retriever. Untethered, unaccompanied, adorably clueless.
It was sniffing a bush like it had never encountered anything so important in its life and its tail wagged like a helicopter about to lift off.
Enid gasped, the dog looked up.
They bonded instantly.
“Wednesday Addams, I swear to God,” Enid said, bursting into their shared living room ten minutes later, clutching the now-leashed golden retriever in one hand and her phone (open on Google: ‘How to register a dog as an emotional support animal legally and fast’) in the other. “This is fate, this is destiny. Look at her. Look. At. Her.”
Wednesday looked up from her book. “That is a dog.”
“She followed me. She chose me, us. She’s our dog now and her name is Pancake, because she is warm and flat and makes people happy.”
“I’m not happy. And we are not keeping it.”

Hours later, Pancake was sitting on the couch between them. Wednesday was holding a dog care pamphlet, Enid was texting Luca pictures.
“You folded like origami,” Enid whispered in awe.
“She kept licking my hand,” Wednesday muttered, betrayed.

“Did you send a picture of the dog to my brother?” Wednesday asked minutes later, after she received a text from Pugsley. (‘Why is there another golden retriever at your house? You already have Enid.’)

“He needed to see her!” Enid defended, clutching her phone like a proud mom with a wallet full of baby pics. “Besides, she smiled. That’s legally binding.”
“Dogs don’t smile.”
“She grinned, Wednesday, it was radiant. She changed lives.”
“She chewed through the Ethernet cord,” Wednesday said flatly. “We were disconnected for one hour. I was reading articles on the queer subtest in Frankenstein, and instead I got rerouted to a Buzzfeed quiz titled What Shade of Pink Is Your Soulmate?”
“You got bubblegum pink.”
“That is not the point.”
“It is exactly the point,” Enid said with a smug little tilt of her head. “You’re in love with us, admit it.”
“I’m not.”
“You let her sleep on your lap while you were reading.”
“She was cold.”
“You called her ‘a little loaf of sunshine.’”
“It was metaphorical.”
“You kissed her forehead.”
“It was instinctive and not to be spoken of again.”
Enid grinned, leaning forward across the table, eyes shining with delight. “Just say it, say you love Pancake.” she said, stopping herself right before saying ‘and me’.
Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “You love making me suffer.”
“And yet you let me,” Enid said sweetly, tilting her head. “Please? For your wife? And our dog-daughter?”
There was a long pause. Wednesday looked at her, really looked at her: eyes soft with hope, lips slightly curled from barely hidden laughter, cheeks pink.
Wednesday exhaled slowly, as if letting go of her entire resistance in one breath.
“She’s… tolerable,” she said, voice quieter. “And warm and soft. And she makes you smile like that.”
Enid beamed, glowing like a sunrise.
“That was almost romantic,” she said, faux-gasping. “Are you melting? Is this your version of cooing?”
“If you tell anyone I cooed, I will destroy your TikTok drafts.”
“Too late,” Enid whispered. “The Internet will know.”
Wednesday just looked at her for another beat, then muttered, “I hope Pancake chews on your favorite shoes.”
Enid grinned. “She won’t, she loves me.”
“She has no taste.”
“You married me.”
“…Shut up.”

Later, they brought Pancake to the quad, where a part of the friend group instantly fell in love: Yoko made a Pinterest board titled "Goth - pink Wives and Golden Pup”, Ajax cried and said “This is the happiest day of my life and I’m not even the dad”, Luca suggested matching family hoodies, Divina asked if Pancake had godparents yet.

BACK TO PRESENT:
“So yeah,” Enid said, scrolling through a hundred photos of Pancake in different filters. “We’re parents now, she’s registered and we love her. Look at this little face.”
She shoved the phone in Bianca’s face. Pancake, tongue out, wearing a Wednesday-colored ribbon.
Bianca stared, then slowly nodded. “You know what? That’s actually the least weird thing you’ve done this month.”

“She eats socks,” Wednesday said. “Enid cried when she chewed on mine.”
“They were her first offering,” Enid whispered reverently.
Right in that moment, Luca walked into the cafeteria with the rest of the friend group, Ajax already calling out, “Where’s my goddaughter?”
“She’s napping!” Enid yelled back.
“What did I miss?” Xavier asked, sliding into the seat next to Bianca.
“Apparently, we’re all uncles and aunts now,” Bianca said.
“Hey, I’m the only real uncle here!” Luca spat.
Wednesday pinched the bridge of her nose. “God help us.”
——————-
Later that evening, the house was quiet. The kind of quiet that only ever settled after Enid had used up all her energy buzzing around, had finally flopped into her bed or onto the couch, and left behind only traces of her scent and a scattering of glitter from a sweater.
But that night the quiet mood wasn’t for that reason: Enid had gone to grab something from Yoko’s place.
When she returned home humming to herself, she immediately stopped at the living room doorway: on the couch, there was a sight she didn’t expect.
Wednesday sat curled in the corner seat like she always did: book in hand, posture stiff as ever. But nestled between her legs, head flopped upside down and snoring gently, was Pancake.
Wednesday wasn’t just letting it happen.
She was stroking the dog's ears.
Absent-mindedly, repeatedly, softly.
She hadn't even noticed Enid in the doorway yet.
The book in her lap was slightly askew now, forgotten as she muttered something so quietly Enid couldn’t make it out.

Her heart practically cracked in half and she tiptoed into the room and sat on the other side of the couch, not wanting to disturb the moment.
But Wednesday turned her head slowly anyway, catching her in the act of watching.
“…She climbed on me.” Wednesday said, flatly, as if it explained everything.
Enid tried not to smile. “She looks comfy.”
“She drooled on me.”
“You didn’t move.”
“She’s warm.” Wednesday said, then paused. “And her tail thumps when I talk. It’s… statistically pleasing.”
Enid melted into the cushions beside them and reached out to scratch Pancake’s belly. The golden retriever let out a soft huff of contentment, pressing closer to both of them.
“We’re a family now,” Enid whispered.
Wednesday didn’t say anything for a moment. But then she looked over at Enid, her eyes calm and unguarded, and nodded once.
“Yes,” she said. “We are.”

Pancake gave a little snore.
Enid rested her head against Wednesday’s shoulder and whispered, “You cooed again.”
Wednesday’s mouth twitched. “So did you.”
“Yeah, but I’m allowed.”
“You’ll pay for this.”
“I don’t think so” Enid whispered, kissing Wednesday’s cheek.
—————
It didn’t take long before the sight of the two of them holding a leash - black, studded, definitely not purchased by Enid - became a semi-regular occurrence on campus.
They walked Pancake together most mornings: Enid in the middle, their hands loosely tangled between them, Pancake trotting a few steps ahead with her tongue flopping out in canine joy. She was a happy dog, almost offensively so in Wednesday’s opinion - but, as it turned out, slightly infectious.
Enid always waved at strangers who passed, Pancake sometimes barked back. And Wednesday? She gave the occasional glare at passing squirrels and muttered things like “another day without them stealing your soul, well done.”

Students started whispering when they saw them. Not because of the dog, but because of the strange softness that clung to the trio. Wednesday, who used to stare down anyone who breathed too loudly near her, now slowed down so the dog could sniff a patch of grass; also she didn’t let go of Enid’s hand, she never did.
Sometimes, Pancake would stop completely and sit in front of a fountain or a tree, tail wagging in protest.
“I believe she’s staging a sit-in.” Wednesday would say flatly, unmoving.
Enid would crouch beside her and talk gently while Wednesday glared like she was negotiating with a furry little terrorist.
They looked ridiculous, absurdly domestic and also undeniably like they belonged that way.
Once, Luca passed them while jogging and shouted, “LOOK AT MY LITTLE FAMILY!” before dramatically pretending to sob.
Wednesday responded by flipping him off, Enid responded by grinning like it was the best compliment she’d ever gotten.
And Pancake barked once, happily, because she didn’t know what was going on but she was included, and that was enough.

Another time, when it rained, they all huddled under Wednesday’s enormous umbrella - even the dog - and Enid said, “This is how Hallmark movies start.”
Wednesday replied, “Then it better end in murder.”
But her hand squeezed Enid’s a little tighter.
And Pancake thumped her tail against both their legs.
It surely wasn’t the life Wednesday had imagined for herself. But, once she got used to it, she realised that, maybe, it was better.
—————
The next time the group saw them, it was at the park: Wednesday was sitting on a bench in her black trench coat, legs crossed, reading a Victorian horror novel out loud in a monotone voice.
Next to her, Pancake sat with a tiny pair of doggy sunglasses, perched like she was listening attentively.
Enid jogged up with three smoothies and a wide smile. “Here we go! Mango for me, black coffee with regret for you,” she handed one to Wednesday, “and chicken puppuccino for the princess.”
Bianca, walking past with Yoko and Xavier, slowed to a halt.
“Tell me they didn’t just order the dog a drink,” Yoko muttered.
“Oh no,” Bianca said. “They absolutely did.”
“Is that a stroller?” Xavier asked, blinking at the very real dog stroller parked nearby.
“She gets tired.” Wednesday said without looking up.
“She’s a retriever.”
“And yet she’s a Pisces with joint sensitivity,” Enid added brightly, placing a kiss on Pancake’s forehead. “We don’t judge in our house.”
“You literally found her on campus… you don’t know her star sign.” Yoko said.
Pancake barked and wagged her tail with unbothered pride.

“Are you guys…” Bianca gestured vaguely, “aware this is cult behavior?”
“We’re a family,” Enid said, sipping her mango smoothie. “And families go to the park together.”
“She also gets bedtime stories,” Wednesday added. “And we’re looking into agility classes, she might have a gift.”
Yoko leaned in. “Okay, but real talk, does she have a favorite book yet?”
Wednesday glanced down at the golden retriever.
“…Wuthering Heights,” she answered grimly. “She barked when Heathcliff died.”
Bianca threw her hands in the air. “Okay, I’m out. Let me know when she starts applying to colleges.”

Enid gasped. “Do you think they’d let her into my program if I actually added her as an emotional support pet?”
Wednesday finally looked up. “She’s a princess, but they won’t let a giant golden retriever in class, Enid.”
“She is decorative!” Enid said, lifting Pancake’s paw.
The dog licked her own paw, knocked over the puppuccino, and then immediately tried to drink it off the grass.
“She's literally the brains of the family” Bianca muttered as she walked away.
——————-
“Uhm, Wednesday…”
 It was a new day, and Enid leaned over the couch armrest, while Pancake sprawled across her lap like a particularly needy, golden throw pillow. “Do you know that today is like four months since we got… married?”
Wednesday, seated cross-legged on the carpet and furiously annotating a copy of Rebecca, didn’t look up. “That wasn’t intentional.”
“I know,” Enid drawled, tugging Pancake’s ears gently. “But maybe we could still celebrate? Like… I dunno. A date? Just us? You know, I kinda… wanted to talk about us.”
That made Wednesday look up; her expression was unreadable, but her pen stopped moving.
Enid continued, softer now. “I think it’s time, I feel like we need to have that conversation and to renegotiate the terms of our marriage, like you said. I mean, we live together, we now willingly sleep in the same bed, we kiss, co-parent a dog we rescued-“
“Technically, you stole her.”
Enid gasped. “She was abandoned! I was rescuing her from the dark, cruel world.”
Pancake, ever dramatic, yawned in agreement.
“Very well,” Wednesday said at last. “A date. For discussing... matters. I’m on it, but don’t make me regret it.”
Enid beamed. “Yay! But… wait. Who’s going to watch Pancake?”
————-
By noon, an official text had been sent to the group chat:
‘URGENT: Pancake-Sitting Trials
Winner earns the right to babysit our angel tonight. You will be judged. Harshly.’
And, somehow, everyone could tell who wrote what.

The trials began with Wednesday calmly placing a list on the kitchen table, followed by a sharp whistle that summoned Luca, Yoko, Divina, Ajax, and Bianca into the living room like reluctant soldiers called to war.
Wednesday gestured to Pancake, who was currently chasing his own tail in a circle of pure, unfiltered joy.

“As you already now, we require a sitter,” she declared. “Enid and I are going on a date.”
“There was no need to specify what-“ Enid tried to say.
“You’re going on a date?” Yoko repeated, grinning. “Like a real one?”
Enid nodded, sighing. “We thought maybe dinner and, you know, talking about what’s going on between us.”
“Oh my god, it’s happening,” Yoko whispered.
“It is,” Wednesday said, “which means we require someone… competent, loyal and emotionally stable. So testing you is probably a waste of time.”

“So,” Enid said, clapping her hands together, “you’re all gonna go through a series of simple tests to prove you’re good enough to watch our daughter. No pressure!”
Everybody swallowed.

Test One: The Leash of Chaos
Each person was handed Pancake’s leash and was told to walk her around the block.

“Easy,” Bianca said, confidently… five minutes before Pancake sprinted after a squirrel and dragged her into a bush.
Yoko maintained control the whole walk but admitted she stopped to take selfies with her in front of three coffee shops.
Ajax let Pancake walk him.
Divina bribed Pancake with turkey jerky, to Wednesday’s visible disgust.
Luca tried to teach Pancake commands in greek; Pancake peed on his shoe.

Test Two: Temptation Resistance
Wednesday placed a muffin, a steak, and a squeaky toy on the floor. The task: don’t let Pancake get them. (“What if our little princess takes something poisonous from the floor?”)

Yoko somehow succeeded by giving Pancake a ten-minute monologue about discipline.
Divina threw the muffin out the window “to remove temptation.”
Ajax gave her the steak because “her eyes were so sad.”
Bianca used a laser pointer to distract Pancake. It worked for exactly twelve seconds before Pancake tackled her.
Luca simply picked Pancake up and held her like a baby; Pancake fell asleep and Wednesday wrote something down and nodded slowly.

Test Three: Emergency Simulation
Enid set a timer, then screamed, “THE DOG ATE A BATTERY!” Everyone had to respond.
Yoko immediately googled “what to do if your dog eats a battery.”
Bianca yelled, “PANIC!” and ran in a circle.
Ajax randomly checked his pockets to see if he had a battery and accidentally pulled out gummy worms.
Divina pulled out a first aid kit she carried just in case, tripped over the coffee table, and somehow gave herself a nosebleed.
Luca shouted, “NOOOOOOOO!” like it was the final act of an opera, grabbed Pancake, and ran out the door yelling, “TO THE VET!”

Final Judgement
After Pancake had calmed down - and peed again - Wednesday and Enid gathered the candidates in the living room.
“Only one of you has what it takes,” Wednesday intoned. “Only one of you passed all three trials without bribery, injury, or enabling canine anarchy.”
Luca raised his hand. “It’s me, right?”
Enid smiled. “It is. Congratulations, you get a beautiful night with our beautiful angel!”
Luca fist-pumped. “I’m gonna be the best uncle ever. And i’m bonding with my scary sister in law too!”
As he took Pancake’s leash and went to set up a movie for them to watch together, Wednesday turned to the others.

“Thank you all for your efforts, I guess.” she said. “I was right, you are unworthy.”
“You’re welcome!” Yoko said cheerfully, stealing one last selfie with Pancake.
“We’ll miss her,” Ajax pouted. “Do you think she’ll forget us by tomorrow?”
“She forgot you fifteen seconds after you gave her that steak.” Wednesday said.
———————
After all of the chaos in the house had slow down, Wednesday and Enid changed into ‘date appropriate clothes’, left the house and walked in comfortable silence for a while.
The restaurant was cozy and little, with mismatched chairs, dim yellow lighting, and the faint smell of garlic and melted cheese clinging to the air.
Enid broke the silence as they sat across from each other, knees brushing under the table.
“So,” she said, stirring her water like it had secrets. “Did you already know that today is four months since we got married?”
Wednesday blinked. “Of course, I’ve had it marked on a calendar. With a skull sticker.”
Enid snorted. “Oh. Of course you did.”

“You know,” Enid started again, slower this time, “it’s nice that we are out celebrating, thank you for saying yes to the date. I needed it.”
“To talk about our semi-unintentional marriage?” Wednesday asked, tone so deadpan it somehow looped into affectionate.
“Yeah,” Enid said, her voice soft but sure. “And the fact that we basically confessed our feelings in a very unexpectedly poetical way and the fact that we’ve kissed, like… a lot.”
Wednesday tilted her head. “That wasn’t accidental.”
Enid flushed. “Yeah, that’s kinda the point.”
Wednesday leaned forward, her voice low and steady. “So you’re saying we’ve entered the ‘communication’ phase of our relationship.”
“You make it sound like we’re planning a military operation.”
“To be fair… liking you does feel like strategic emotional warfare.”
Enid blinked, then grinned. “Okay… weirdly romantic.”
Wednesday’s lip twitched. “I’ve been told.”
“By who?” Enid asked suspicious, a glimpse of jealousy in her voice, but Wednesday did not answer; just grinned and shook her head.

“So,” Enid said, chewing a piece of breadstick nervously, “I hate to say overused sentences, but… what are we? I mean, besides legally bound to one another and emotionally reckless.”
Wednesday looked her in the eye. “I believe we are… married.”
Enid raised her brows.
“But also,” Wednesday added, slower now, more careful, “we’re… together; or, at least, I want us to be.”
Enid smiled. “Okay, cool, because I want that too. Like, actually.”

After minutes of silence where they just looked into each other’s eyes, Wednesday looked down at the table for a beat, then said, “You know, you are the only person I’ve ever wanted to share silence with. And tea, and a house, and apparently a dog.”
“Daughter” Enid corrected, smiling.
“Daughter.” Wednesday agreed.

Enid reached across the table, their fingers brushing before linking. “So, this counts as our official first date, right?”
Wednesday tilted her head. “I think the time I got stung by a bee in the school yard should count.”
“That was not a date, that was an emergency.”
“I’m aware, but I also remember holding your hand the whole time.”
Enid blushed so hard she had to drink water just to survive it.
They sat like that, fingers intertwined, grinning like idiots while pretending they weren’t.
———————
They opened the front door slowly, and immediately stopped.
The living room was glowing red. Like, actual red light, pulsing faintly like some sort of demon summoning had gone wrong; or very right.
Luca stood in the center of it, holding Pancake like a ritual offering. He looked shaken: his hoodie was inside out, his hair somehow both flat and frizzed, and his face had the expression of someone who had seen things.
“You’re back,” he whispered, like survivors do in war films. “Thank god.”
“What is happening?” Wednesday asked flatly.
“Is that mood lighting?” Enid asked, pointing at the red bulbs now installed in the ceiling lamp.

“No,” Luca said. “Yes. I don’t know. She turned off the real lights by chewing the cord, then I tried to make it cozy so she’d calm down, but then she stared at the red glow for twenty minutes and I got scared she was evolving.”
Pancake licked her chin and barked.

“There it is,” he said, dead-eyed. “The sound of my soul leaving.”
Enid rushed forward and scooped the golden retriever out of his arms like a hero reclaiming their child.
“Oh, my sweet baby, did you scare uncle Luca?”
“She had- Enid, she had plans,” Luca said. “She disappeared for twenty minutes and came back with a leaf crown. I don’t even know where she got the leaves.”
“She’s creative.” Wednesday said.
“She tried to eat my laptop, and she succeeded.”
“Oh my god.” Enid gasped. “Did she post something?”

Luca nodded slowly and pulled out his phone, showing them his screen.
Pancake had somehow opened Instagram while eating the laptop, and on Luca’s story was a single blurry image of her nose and the caption: ‘woof’.
“It got seventeen likes.” he whispered.
Wednesday, for once, looked genuinely impressed. “That’s more than my last post, the one about the torture methods in ancient Rome.”

Enid sat on the couch with Pancake on her lap, petting her. “You were a good girl, huh? You had fun?”
Pancake barked again and leapt down, running in chaotic circles that knocked over a lamp.
Luca flinched. “I’m going to need three to five business days to emotionally recover from this.”
“She likes you!” Enid said cheerfully.
“I saw my life flash before my eyes.” Luca said.
“She’s just discerning.” Wednesday said, taking a seat beside Enid, as calm as if nothing had happened.
As the girls relaxed on the couch, Enid whispered, “So, do we ever tell our child she’s unhinged?”
Wednesday looked down fondly at the snoring golden retriever. “No, she gets that from me.”

“Hello? Did you forget about me?!” Luca yelled at the domesticity of the scene.

Chapter Text

Enid was buzzing.
Not just metaphorically: she really was buzzing, jumping through the house like she’d replaced her regular coffee with espresso and enthusiasm.
“Come on, Weds! We haven’t had a proper double date yet,” she said, flopping dramatically onto the bed beside Wednesday, who was halfway through reading ‘The Anatomy of Grief’ and had ignored her since that moment.
“Enid, we didn’t even have a proper date until some days ago; give me a break.”
“Divina and Yoko are so excited! We’re meeting for brunch, then a surprise activity!” Enid said, without listening to her wife.

Wednesday didn’t look up. “That phrase has never preceded anything good.”
Enid poked her arm. “Come on, you’ll like the activity! And you like them.”
“ We’ve been through this. I tolerate them.”
“You liked Yoko’s playlist at last week’s party.”
“I endured it.”
“That’s a high compliment from you and you know it.” Enid grinned and nudged Wednesday’s shoulder. “Please say yes. We already said we were going, and I know I didn’t technically tell you, but you know how I get when I’m excited and-“

“Yes, okay.” Wednesday deadpanned.
Enid blinked. “Wait, really?”
Wednesday turned a page. “I’m trying something radical, it’s called ‘surrendering to the chaos and let it suffocate you.’”
Enid gasped. “Oh my god, you’re evolving.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. If I must endure brunch, I at least expect a blood pact or an exorcism at some point.”

“You might get one,” Enid said brightly, then sneezed.
Wednesday paused, but Enid sniffled and waved it off. “Allergies.”
“You don’t have allergies.”
“They’re seasonal allergies.”
“It’s not Spring.”
“…Global warming?”
——————-
“Wednesday, where’s Pancake’s brunch harness?”
“I regret letting that pink glittery thing into my house and I regret letting you call it ‘brunch harness’ even more.”
Enid emerged from the closet holding a dog-sized rainbow knit sweater in one hand and a sparkly leash in the other.
“She’s not wearing that. And when did you make it?”
“It’s so cold this morning! She’ll freeze; I made this for her one hour ago while you were still talking about - or to? - ghosts in your sleep. She’ll catch a cold if she doesn’t wear it, Wednesday!”
“It’s 64 degrees.”
“She’s sensitive.”
Wednesday arched a brow. “She ate a wasp yesterday and didn’t blink.”
“She sneezed!”
“That was you.”

Enid opened her mouth to argue, then sneezed again, violently, into the crook of her elbow. Pancake barked once, then launched herself onto the bed, tail wagging with such intensity she slid off the other side.

“I’m fine,” Enid said quickly, grabbing tissues and stuffing them into her bag. “Totally fine. Let’s go, we’re already late.”
“Stop, you might have a fever.”
“Just brunch fever. Now, are we doing sunglasses chic or matching snoods cute today?”
Wednesday didn’t answer. She was busy watching Pancake attempt to eat a shoe and Enid attempt to pretend she wasn’t about to pass out.

“You’re limping.”
“I like the drama of it.”
“Enid…”
“Look,” Enid said, bundling Pancake into the sparkly leash, “you agreed to brunch, and you agreed to us bringing our daughter, so we’re going to brunch, dammit.”
“…Okay.” Wednesday said, part defeated part surprised but amused by Enid’s tone.

“Let’s go, family! Yoko and Divina are already almost there, and if I’m late again Divina’s going to start carrying a stopwatch.”
Enid yelled minutes later, and Wednesday gave a dramatic sigh but didn’t protest as Enid laced her fingers with hers and opened the door. Pancake trotted beside them proudly, wearing a ridiculous bandana that read ‘Brunch Babe’.

They stepped outside into the daylight. Pancake immediately tried to chase a pigeon, and Wednesday immediately braced herself as Enid got yanked slightly to the left.
“Why did I agree to this?” Wednesday muttered.
“You like me?” Enid sniffled, “And you love Pancake.”
“I’m re-evaluating both today.”
———————
“What,” Wednesday asked slowly, “is that.”
They had just arrived at the brunch cafe, and Enid was already sat with Pancake.
Yoko, seated at the patio table as well and looking cool in a leather jacket despite the sun, looked down at the object in question: her cat, swaddled in a canvas baby sling strapped to her chest. As if that was not enough, the cat was wearing a pair of round sunglasses and an expression of long-suffering.

“This,” Yoko said, sipping her orange mimosa, “is Little Nosferatu, and he’s a guest.”
Divina offered the cat a bite of her avocado toast. “He gets brunch rights, he’s an emotional support animal who actually is the one who needs emotional support.”
Wednesday blinked, then turned to Enid. “Why is this brunch suddenly a petting zoo?”

Enid grinned, looking extremely proud of herself as she adjusted Pancake’s harness. “Because we’re going to pet training class after this! Surprise!”
“You lied to me,” she said evenly. “You didn’t tell me about the training class.”
“It was a surprise,” Enid said hopefully. “Nosferatu has social anxiety so Yoko told me she needed to take him there, and I thought that was a wonderful idea!”
“You just had to tell me about the pet training class straight away and not the brunch part with these two, I wouldn’t have complained.” Wednesday said.

“That’s probably right. I’m happy you’re happy about the surprise tho!”
“I’m never happy. And I still hold some wariness about it. What if they can’t handle our baby and they don’t train her properly or accidentally hurt her?”
“Oh, you’d set them all on fire.”
“Correct.”
“I know you don’t love the idea of other people possibly messing with her, but Pancake needs to learn how to sit without tackling people, and also…” Enid leaned in slightly, almost conspiratorially, “…you’re kind of scary - but like, in a cool way - maybe you’ll be good at training.”

Pancake barked enthusiastically from beneath the table and tried to climb onto Wednesday’s lap. Once she succeeded, Wednesday massaged her ears.
“I thought you loved personal space.” Divina said, watching the scene with a surprised smile.
“I did, but then I got married to a walking cuddle bug with zero concept of personal space who might dissolve if she doesn’t get enough attention and physical touch; I just got used to her needs now and applying them to our daughter too.” Wednesday replied, and Enid let out a little giggle.
“Yes, entirely my fault!” she said, proudly.

Then Pancake stole a piece of Divina’s toast and everything went to hell.
“Enid!” Divina gasped. “Your daughter is a thief!”
“She’s just experimenting with autonomy,” Enid said, voice stuffy from her cold but tone proud.
“She also licked my cappuccino,” Yoko muttered, moving her cup farther away. “And she stared into my soul while doing it.”
“Yeah, she does that,” Wednesday said.

“You’re training her to be like you,” Enid whispered, scandalized and delighted. “She’s you in golden retriever form.”
“Oh my god, so you’re saying she’s a mixture of you two. This marriage is my favourite thing in the world!” Yoko said, her eyes watering.
“Get a job, or a hobby. Or both, the less time you spend obsessing over us the better is for everyone.” Wednesday replied, her tone cold.

Divina tried to take a selfie and got photobombed by all three: Yoko holding Nosferatu like a suspicious baby, Pancake mid-yawn at her face, and Wednesday glaring into the lens like the camera owed her money.
“Babe what the-“ Yoko started to say.
“Delete that.” Wednesday said, interrupting.
“No way,” Divina said. “This is art.”
“That dog is a menace.” Yoko said.
“You brought a cat in a baby carrier to brunch,” Enid said.
“He’s chill.”
“He’s hissing.”
“That’s how he says hi.”

Nosferatu launched himself into Divina’s mimosa and Pancake tried to drink it.
Wednesday caught her mid-lunge. “Absolutely not. You’ll be intoxicated by proximity to these people.”
“Come on, don’t pretend you hate us!” Yoko said, right at the same time Enid was trying to sip her juice to cover a sneeze. It didn’t go well.
“Bless you,” Divina said, dodging a splash.
“You okay?” Wednesday asked, squinting. “You look kind of-“
“I’m fine,” Enid said, voice lower and halfway into cough territory. “Best day ever.”

“You just sneezed into your hash browns.”
“They needed seasoning.”
“ENID THAT’S DISGUSTING” Divina yelled.
Yoko leaned forward, Nosferatu now perched dramatically on her shoulder like a sarcastic pirate’s companion. “I think it’s the right time to ask it now. How did your date go? Did you talk?”
“How is this the right time?” Wednesday said, too calmly.
“Come on, you can tell me! Married-married, or still just fake-married, or fake-real with kissing? Do you cuddle? Do you make out? Have you-“
“STOP RIGHT HERE.” Enid warned.

“I can hex you in four languages,” Wednesday added. “One of them is legally dead.”
Yoko sat back. “Noted.”
Divina grinned, unfazed. “But you’re definitely in love though, right?”
Enid opened her mouth, then sneezed so hard Pancake jumped under the table.
“That was definitely a yes.” Divina said.

Wednesday reached down to pet Pancake, who whined and climbed into her lap like a furry heat-seeking missile. “She’s stressed. Your volume is unnatural.”
“You’re the one who threatened a hex.”
“And yet you continued.”

Enid rested her head on Wednesday’s shoulder. “Isn’t this the best brunch?”
“Don’t fall asleep on me.” Wednesday murmured, adjusting Pancake with one arm and catching Enid’s drink with the other. “You’ll drown in orange juice and shame.”
“I’d die doing what I love.”
“I’m LOVING this double date! We should do it more often!” Yoko yelled, happier than ever.
“No.” Wednesday just replied.

“I know! I had a vision of the four of us being those cute couples, like training their pets together and go on hikes and share smoothies and-“ Enid started.
“I don’t share smoothies.” Wednesday said.
“You literally drank out of mine yesterday.”
“There was one sip left. It was a mercy act.”
“You also finished the whipped cream.”
“I’m a martyr.”

Divina, watching this like her favorite soap opera, nudged Yoko. “We should’ve brought popcorn.”
“I brought cat treats,” Yoko said. “Want some?”
“Okay,” Wednesday said, having enough. “Training class in twenty minutes. Let’s get there before Yoko asks if we make out, again.”
Yoko raised a hand. “Wait, do you?”
Wednesday turned around slowly.
Yoko dropped the question and picked up her coffee. “Right. Hexes. Got it.”

After gathering all of their things, the four girls got up from their seats and walked to the exit, only to realize Pancake had stolen a piece of bacon off someone’s plate on the patio.
“Oh no - I’m sorry, she- Pancake, drop it!”
Pancake ran in a circle of victory, bacon hanging from her mouth, tail wagging like a war drum.
“Should we tip extra?” Divina asked.
“I think we’re going to need a legal team.” Wednesday said.

“Wait,” Yoko gasped. “Where’s Nosferatu?”
They turned, just to find him sitting on someone’s croissant.
“Oh god, sorry!” Divina yelled, rushing back. “How and when did he even get here?”
“Time is a flat circle.” Yoko said, dramatically, holding her cat.

“Please Enid, let’s get out of here. I thought double dates were supposed to be romantic, not legally dangerous.” Wednesday said, exhausted.
“They are,” Enid replied, grabbing her hand. “This is just… post-apocalyptic romance.”
“You’re still sneezing.”
“And you still like me.”
“For some inexplicable reason I tolerate you more efficiently each day.”
———————
The chaos of brunch finally behind them, the two couples made their way into the community animal gym that hosted the pet training class. A laminated poster by the door read ‘WELL-BEHAVED PETS MAKE HAPPY HOMES!’ which Wednesday muttered felt like a threat.
As soon as they walked in, the space split into two sections: one side was for dogs, already buzzing with eager golden retrievers and flustered owners holding bags of treats. The other, quieter side had a scratched-up fake tree, a ‘cat obstacle course’ that looked like cheap and used IKEA furniture, and a woman holding a clipboard with visible terror in her eyes.

Yoko gasped. “Look! A tiny tunnel of chaos! I think Nosferatu was born to defeat this.”
“We’ll meet you guys after class!” Divina said, adjusting Nosferatu’s harness like he was a gladiator getting ready for battle.
Yoko turned dramatically to Enid. “Promise me you won’t forget me when you’ll die from the flu.”
“I’m not sick!”
“Promise me.”
Wednesday rolled her eyes and ‘gently’ pushed her toward the cat section. “Go train your gremlin.”
Yoko threw them finger-hearts as she left, and Pancake barked in reply.

The dog instructor clapped to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, everyone! We’re going to start with some simple leash exercises. We use only positive reinforcement here: no scolding, just redirection and love!”
Wednesday raised an eyebrow. “That sounds suspiciously like forced fake positivity.”
Enid elbowed her. “Be nice.”

The instructor continued, “So the main goal today is to have your pup focus on you as their primary source of guidance and support.”
“That’s right, Pancake,” Wednesday said quietly, looking at the dog. “Reject society. Follow only me.”
“You cannot be the dark cult leader of our dog.”
“I absolutely can.”
Enid giggled and then sneezed so hard it made Pancake jump.
“Still fine?” Wednesday asked.
“Yes,” Enid replied, lying, as she fished out a napkin and sniffled. “Just need to blow my nose again. Be right back.”

She stepped a few feet away to the table that held extra napkins and hand sanitizer. Pancake sat obediently beside Wednesday. At least, until a girl in a lemon-colored hoodie walked over from another corner of the room.
“Hi! Sorry to bother you, I was just over there and I thought I could come and tell you that you and your dog look very cute. Especially you.” The girl said, and Wednesday’s look turned to Enid, who was silently listening from some feet apart.
“So, what’s your name?” The girl asked, a bit disappointed in the lack of attention Wednesday had given her.
“I’m Wednesday Addams-Sinclair.” she simply replied, not even wanting to know her name back and still looking at Enid.
“Hot name too! And I love the jacket you’re holding, I bet it looks amazing on you!”
Enid, mid-nose-blow, froze, and Wednesday noticed.
“I didn’t choose my name.”

In that moment, Enid reappeared silently behind the girl, holding a napkin in one hand and murder in her eyes.
“Hi!” she said in her brightest, sunniest voice. “I’m Enid, and that’s my wife.”
The girl turned and blanched. “Oh- Uh. Hey. Wife?”
“Yes! Don’t tell me you didn’t see the ring” Enid said, trying to hold the fakest smile ever and the most forced positive tone in her voice.
“Well you guys look pretty young, that could have been a promise ring or something.”
“It’s not. Thank you for the compliments you gave our dog tho. She bites people sometimes, you know? Mostly when she senses disrespect.” Enid said cheerfully, and Pancake barked right on cue.
The girl took a very polite step backward. “Alright, got it. Have a nice day!”

Once she was out of earshot, Enid plopped down beside Wednesday on the little bench. “She was totally flirting with you.”
“She was.”
“And you let her.”
“I was just curious what her strategy was. It was weak.”
“She said you and Pancake were cute. You should have said something like ‘i know, I’m raising her with my wife’.”
“I didn’t want to talk to her.”

Enid tried to look stern but ended up coughing. “You were totally loving the attention.”
“I was plotting her slow ruin.”
“No, I was doing that. You were just standing there looking flattered.”
“Absolutely not true.”
“You made Pancake pose like a little sphinx while she was talking.”
“I was strengthening her intimidation posture. And I was looking at you the whole time, in case you didn’t notice.”

Enid sniffled, then leaned against her wife with a dramatic sigh. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to be mad. Oh, and give me that jacket since you’re not using it.”
That being said, she took Wednesday’s jacket and tied it to her waist.
“Oh god, you’re claiming me.” Wednesday said, the hint of a smile on her lips.
“I am.” Enid simply replied, and Wednesday suddenly took her hand in hers.
“You’re so idiotic.” she said, lightly caressing Enid’s hand with her thumb.
———————-
The instructor clapped again. “Okay! Let’s go with basic commands. Sit, stay, come. Easy stuff.”
“I think she already knows those,” Enid whispered to Wednesday, still wiping her nose.
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Pancake. “She can do better, she can be the best between those mid dogs.”
“Don’t force toxic competitiveness on her.”

The instructor moved to the center. “When giving commands, be calm and firm. Reward every success, and remember, your dog wants to please you!”
“I think mine just wants to cancel this instructor’s existence, and I do too.” Wednesday muttered.
“Wednesday.” Enid warned.
They took turns going through “sit” and “stay,” and Pancake was a model student, or at least until Enid said “stay” right as she sneezed mid-word.
“St-achoo!”

Pancake, interpreting this as “attack,” launched herself joyfully into the air… and landed squarely on a tiny white poodle who had done nothing wrong.
The poodle let out a high-pitched sound that made its owner scream, and Pancake wagged her tail like she’d just saved the day.
“I- oh my god, I’m sorry! I think she misheard me!” Enid said, doubling over with laughter.

“She saw your soul leaving your body and assumed it was an emergency.” Wednesday said, peeling Pancake off the poodle.
The instructor gave them a tight smile. “You made a mess, Mrs. Addams-Sinclair. Let’s… move on to leash walking!”
Wednesday leaned close to Enid. “Tell him that if he picks on you and Pancake again I’ll take care of him.”
“Wednesday, come on.”

The leash-walking began, and Pancake immediately pulled Enid straight toward a table of treats, ignoring the demonstration entirely. Enid stumbled, wheezing and laughing at the same time. “Okay, she’s a menace.”
Wednesday gently took the leash from her. “Sit down. You’re not well.”
“I’m fine-“
“You’re sweating. Through your eyebrows.”
“That’s normal for me!”

“I will call Luca and have him pick you up.”
“You wouldn’t dare. You know we have beef right now.”
“I’ll tell him you cried because you realised how right he was about that argument you two had.”
Enid gasped. “But that’s not true!”
The instructor walked past just in time to hear Wednesday say, “Then sit for a bit and let me train our creature of darkness.”
Enid sat.

The next part of class involved practicing recall across the room. While the other dogs trotted across the mats in slow, clumsy waves, Pancake ran like a guided missile the second Wednesday called her name, vaulting over a cone and sliding into a perfect sit at her feet.
A few people clapped, one chihuahua started crying.
The instructor blinked. “I mean… that was excellent. If not slightly terrifying.”
“I accept your compliment.” Wednesday said, patting Pancake once.

Enid, now curled on a chair with a cup of water someone had handed her, gave her wife a thumbs up. “That’s my evil girl!”
“I’m rewarding her with lamb lungs later.” Wednesday replied.
“That’s disgusting. She’ll love it.”
“She’s just like her mother.”
“Which one?”
Wednesday glanced at Enid with something close to a smile. “Both.”
——————-
“Now we’ll practice polite greetings!” the instructor called. “Everyone find a partner and take turns walking up with your dog and saying hello. No jumping, no barking, and no bite, ideally.”
Enid raised a hand from her corner of the bench. “Can I opt out if I’m pretty sure I’m gonna fail all three?”
“You’re not the one being tested, Mrs. Addams- Sinclair.” the instructor said, looking down at her.
“Oh. I’m coming then” she said, just before sneezing herself halfway off the bench.
Wednesday sighed and caught her by the shoulder before she slid fully to the floor.
“I’m fine,” Enid said, her voice an octave lower than usual.
“You sound like a dying tuba.”

Wednesday passed Pancake’s leash back to her. “Let’s go, I’ll supervise from here.”
“Are you sure she’ll listen to me?”
“She obeyed you this morning when you demanded she not eat your used tissues. That shows restraint.”
“That was because I offered her bacon.”
“Manipulation is a leadership skill.”

Pancake wagged her tail furiously and began dragging Enid toward a goldendoodle; the goldendoodle panicked. Enid waved at its owner, then tried to brace her legs. “Pancake, gentle!”
Wednesday called from the bench, deadpan: “Let the goldendoodle learn.”
“Wednesday!”
A second later, Pancake full-body slammed into the other dog in an attempt to hug it and both of them toppled into a roll of foam mats. The instructor looked like he had enough of them and rolled his eyes.

“Okay, next round. Let’s try… recall with distractions!” he said, forcing brightness into his voice.
He handed out squeaky toys and dangling fake hot dogs on sticks; Wednesday inspected hers and said, “If this is your idea of psychological warfare, it’s underwhelming.”
“Your wife is supposed to hold it as a distraction so your dog doesn’t go to the person in front of them, which should be you.”
“I see, we’ll do our best to demoralize the other dogs, then.”
“Please… don’t.”

The first two dogs did okay, ignoring the other people after a lot of yelling and some spilled treats. (What had happened to the ‘no scolding’ rule?) Then it was Pancake’s turn.
“Ready?” the instructor called to Enid, who was again trying not to sneeze.
“Yup-achoo!”
Wednesday called, “Pancake, hi!”
The dog launched into the air, dodged the hot dog stick, ripped the squeaky duck out of another handler’s hand mid-flight, and proudly brought it to Wednesday like a trophy.

“That… wasn’t yours,” the instructor said weakly.
“She’s a hunter,” Wednesday replied, kneeling to stroke her ears.
“She’s an earthquake” muttered someone from the poodle section.
Pancake barked like she’d been complimented.
——————
Things started falling apart even more when Pancake launched herself into the “recall” demonstration with the unrestrained enthusiasm of a sugar-high toddler and nearly dislocated Enid’s shoulder in the process.
Enid gave a heroic little cough and wheezed, “I got her! I got-“
She tripped over the training cone and stumbled sideways into a folding chair.

The instructor, with his annoying superiority complex, frowned. “You only have caused us trouble after trouble today, Mrs. Addams-Sinclair. Can you try to focus and help yourself and everyone else here or is it just too difficult for you?”
Wednesday’s head turned so fast it could’ve been soundtracked by a violin sting.
“Hey you, complexed little man, confront me if you dare. My wife is running a flu and probably a fever and she’s still dragging herself across this mess for the sake of her pet’s emotional growth.” she said, tone calm but visibly loaded. “Meanwhile, you’ve done nothing but criticize and passively insult her since we got here. Should I assume this is your actual pathetic teaching style, or are you just feeling bold today?”

“Miss, I’m trying to maintain a productive learning environment-“
“And yet what you’ve maintained,” Wednesday snapped, “is an environment where my dog is overstimulated, my wife is one barking retriever away from fainting, and someone’s emotional support ferret just attacked my boot.”
Said ferret - tiny, furious, wearing a vest that read “Captain Whiskers” - was indeed latched onto her shoe.

Enid sniffled and leaned slightly on Pancake for support. “I’m fine, really, I just need-“
Her knees buckled a little, and Wednesday was already there, gripping her elbow.
“That’s it.”
The entire class turned as Wednesday straightened, one arm around Enid, the other holding Pancake’s leash like a weapon.

“I’m taking my wife home. You can keep your overpriced squeaky ducks and your judgmental stares.” She turned to the instructor with cold finality. “Congratulations on creating the most humiliating puppy school since the Inquisition.”
The instructor blinked. “There’s no need to get so-“
“There’s every need.” she said flatly.
And with that, she guided Enid toward the exit while Pancake trotted proudly beside them, completely unfazed.
“Pancake, leave the ferret.” Wednesday added as Captain Whiskers made a last stand.

As they walked out, Enid leaned on Wednesday and murmured, “You didn’t have to go full murder eyes.”
“I hope you’re kidding.” Wednesday said. “That man deserved an actual murder.”
Enid laughed, even as she nearly sneezed her soul out.
“You’re so intense,” she said fondly.
Wednesday tightened her grip around her waist. “For you, I can be at my worst.”
—————
By the time they got back to the apartment, Enid was sniffling like an old radiator and leaning more on Wednesday than on her own legs. Pancake, still riding the post-training adrenaline high, shot through the front door and immediately tried to make friends with a decorative pillow.
Wednesday guided Enid to the couch and maniacally ran to take her a blanket, some pillows and a thermometer.
“You stay here now, no arguments. You look like you’re about to pass out again.”
Enid flopped onto the couch with a groan, pulling the blanket over herself. “I already told you, I didn’t pass out earlier! And I’m not that bad…”
Then sneezed three times in a row and nearly knocked the tissue box off the coffee table.

Wednesday caught it. “Yes. Radiant with health. If I let you outside right now, birds would drop out of the sky.”
Enid peeked over the blanket, wide-eyed. “Wait… are you making jokes? Oh my god. Are you really worried about me?”

Wednesday didn’t answer immediately. She stood over her for a beat too long, then turned and stalked into the kitchen.
“Just please don’t die,” she called. “I’ll be right back.”
Enid blinked, Pancake curled up beside her.
“Should we be worried?” she whispered to the dog, while patting her.

When Wednesday returned, she was carrying a tray. A tray, Enid noted, with trembling awe. It held a bowl of something steaming, a mug of tea and two kinds of medicine.
“I made you soup,” Wednesday said stiffly, placing the tray on Enid’s lap like it might explode. “It contains garlic, ginger, lemon, and something I don’t know why we had home but the internet said was ‘anti-inflammatory.’”
Enid stared at her, amazed. “You made me soup. You made soup, for me, and I didn’t even ask.”
“I measured nothing and threatened the pan twice,” Wednesday admitted. “But yes.”
Enid beamed. “Oh my god Wednesday, you’re like… legit actual wife material.”
Wednesday froze in the act of fluffing her pillow.
“All of those years of just being your bestie… completely wasted. I should have married you the moment I first saw you. You made me soup!” Enid continued.

“It’s really not that deep, also you sneezed into your elbow and then apologized to it,” Wednesday replied, trying to keep the tone cool. “Clearly you’re dying.”
Enid’s heart melted anyway, somewhere between the soup steam and Wednesday awkwardly tucking another pillow behind her back.
“You’re really worried about me.”

“I am managing the situation,” Wednesday said tightly. “Poorly. But managing.”
Enid giggled, then immediately coughed. “It’s cute. You’re cute, also this soup smells like fire.”
“That was part of the recipe,” Wednesday lied instantly, then added, “…I think.”
Enid took a small bite. “Mm. Okay, that’s edible.”
Wednesday let out a slow breath like she’d been holding it since the ferret incident.
Then: “There’s also a grilled cheese. I pan-fried it so you could taste something actually nice in that mess.”
“I feel so taken care of,” Enid said softly.
Wednesday blinked at her. “That’s the intended effect. Do you feel better? Are you… pleased?”

“I’m completely in love with you,” Enid said through a mouthful of bread.
“…You have a fever,” Wednesday said after staring at her for several seconds, voice low and uncertain.

Enid laughed, and her laugh quickly turned into a cough. “No. Well - yes, technically. But, Wednesday… I’m actually very in love with you.”
Another silence: Wednesday stood very still, like if she moved too quickly the moment might slip out of her fingers. Her eyes scanned Enid’s face closely.

“…Enid,” she finally said. “You cannot say things like that while weak and glowing and tucked under a blanket.”
“I can, and I am,” Enid said, smiling despite the tissues shoved up one sleeve.
“You’re feverish and babbling and probably confused, it’s not a reliable moment for declarations.”
“I’m not confused,” Enid said softly. “I’ve known for a long time, I just didn’t know if I was allowed to say it yet.”
Wednesday blinked, then stared at the ground and lowered her voice tone. “You are.”
Enid smiled, flushed and sleepy. “Cool, then I love you. You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know.”

Wednesday’s jaw flexed, her hands curled slightly where they rested on her knees.
“You said it like it was nothing,” she muttered. “Like it didn’t just crack open every bone in my ribcage.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“No, it’s horrible. Say it again.”
Enid tilted her head. “I love you, Wednesday.”

Wednesday was quiet for a second longer. Then, very softly, almost reluctantly whispered in the quietest voice she could.
“I think I love you too.”
The air between them warmed immediately. Pancake, sensing something profound had occurred, let out a gentle whuff and curled tighter against Enid’s side.

“I knew you did,” Enid whispered, flushed from more than the fever now.
Wednesday leaned in, pressing her forehead to Enid’s. “Don’t die, I just said it now. That would be astronomically unfair.”
Enid laughed again, tugging her closer with a grin. “You’re such a romantic.”
“I’ll make you sleep on this couch tonight and every night if you say that about me again.”
“Love you,” Enid sang teasingly, voice raspy.
Wednesday didn’t move. “I just said it, don’t make me say it twice in one day. And don’t make me regret it.”
——————-
Hours later, the apartment was quiet. Or as quiet as it could be, considering Pancake was chewing something very loudly and Enid was sniffling into her third tissue while trying to act like she wasn’t still sick.
She was wrapped burrito-style in two blankets on the couch, watching Wednesday cooking something and suspiciously putting snacks into bowls.
The fever had gone away, but the tiredness and the sneezed were still there.

“You don’t have to keep checking on me,” Enid said with a sleepy smile, noticing how Wednesday looked towards her direction every 5 seconds. “I’m not going to combust.”
“You say that, but I’ve seen the way your immune system operates,” Wednesday replied. “It’s a miracle you made it until now.”
Enid laughed, then coughed. “You’re sweet.”
Wednesday frowned deeply. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Okay. You’re totally cold and heartless and you made me soup for no reason.”
“That’s more like it.”

There was a knock at the door.
Enid blinked. “Are you expecting a delivery?”
“No.”
Another knock, then a familiar voice.
“Hey wives, open up! We have supplies and opinions!”
Enid’s eyes went wide. “Wait, was that-“
Wednesday was already walking to the door, face impassive.

She opened it. Yoko, Ajax, Divina, Xavier, Bianca and Luca stood there as a very chaotic support group.
“Sooo,” Yoko announced, sweeping into the apartment, “we’ve been told that rainbow wife is sick and goth wife is taking care of her, and we came to help. Goth wife, of course.”
Behind her, Ajax stumbled in with a bag of bread and absolutely no shoes. “We brought carbs!”
Divina held up three half-melted popsicles in her bare hands. “We also brought snacks. And dessert.”
“Luca brought protein and a salad but he said he won’t talk to Enid.” Bianca said, and Luca sprinted into the apartment.
“I CHANGED MY MIND, I require to see my sick sister.” He said, running towards Enid and hugging her.

“You invited them?” Enid blinked, voice thick with surprise, while in the meanwhile she was still in the middle of the hug with her brother.
Wednesday crossed her arms. “You like noise, and company, and people who encourage your delusions. I thought it would help and would make you feel better.”
Enid’s face melted into the warmest smile. “That’s… really thoughtful of you.”
Wednesday didn’t answer, but she did look vaguely to the side like the compliment gave her a headache.

Everyone spilled into the apartment like a swarm. Pancake barked excitedly and immediately launched herself at Luca, who caught her like a football and staggered backward.
“She missed me,” he said proudly, then added, “Even though her mom and I were fighting yesterday”
Enid winced. “Yeah… sorry about that.”
Luca set Pancake down and gave Enid a sheepish look. “I didn’t mean to insult her, I just said she didn’t need a raincoat because she’s already waterproof.”

“You said she looked like a soggy burrito!”
“Well-“
“I just wanted her to be warm!”

Divina made an awkward throat-clearing sound. “Would now be a good time to remind you both that you’re having an actual argument about a dog coat?”
“…Maybe.”
They both burst out laughing and Enid nudged him with her shoulder. “Sorry, Lu.”
“I’m sorry too, you can buy her six raincoats if it makes you happy.”
“Thank you,” Enid beamed. “She’s gonna look so cute in red.”

“I already had enough of this all.” Wednesday muttered, spooning something into mismatched bowls.
Ajax leaned over her shoulder. “Hey, can I help? Or is this one of those situations where your food is sacred and if I touch it wrong you’ll curse me?”
“Option two.” Wednesday said flatly.
Everyone spread out around the apartment. Someone started music, Divina began slicing a cake like she was performing surgery, Yoko was already gossiping with Enid about someone’s disastrous date last week (“She said he brought a slide deck about his weird e-commerce startup, Enid. A PowerPoint, to a first date.”).

Enid looked around, still slightly flushed from sickness but visibly glowing.
She glanced over at Wednesday, who had finished cooking and was now pretending not to watch her, and whispered, “You really did all this for me?”
Wednesday hesitated. “You’re… inconveniently important.”
“That’s, like, the second most romantic thing you’ve ever said.”
“Then I take it back.”
“You can’t.”
“Watch me.”
Enid just giggled, nestled deeper into the blankets, and whispered, “I love you.”
Wednesday didn’t look at her, but she smirked, just barely, and replied, “Good.”
——————
Dinner descended fast and loud.
Yoko and Xavier started arguing over the playlist, Ajax tripped over Pancake trying to sit next to Divina, Luca sat on the arm of the couch instead of a chair and immediately fell off, someone lit a candle and someone else instantly blew it out. Wednesday didn’t blink once.
“Why is everyone yelling,” Enid mumbled, wrapped in three blankets like a burrito.
“They aren’t,” Wednesday said. “They’re just existing too loud, as always.”

Bianca popped open a soda with unnecessary force. “You invited us.”
“I didn’t say I wanted you to speak.”
“Too bad,” Yoko said, tossing her coat at the wall and completely missing the hook. “We’re helping.”
“By screaming?” Wednesday asked, deadpan.
“By bringing chaos for your unhappy sick wife,” Divina corrected. “You’re welcome.”
Enid let out a weak laugh and coughed into her hoodie sleeve. “This is already the best dinner ever.”
———————
“Okay, ground rule,” Enid said, voice scratchy but determined. “No more catching things on fire. That includes napkins, food, Xavier’s sleeves-“
“That was one time,” Xavier muttered, patting down his slightly crispy hoodie.
“Two,” Yoko said.
They were all on the floor now, a half-eaten dinner abandoned on the table behind them.

“We should play something,” Ajax suggested. “Like a bonding thing.”
“We already bonded over Xavier’s hoodie bursting into flames,” Luca said. “I thought that was the game.”
“No, no, like a real game,” Divina said. “Like ‘Most Likely To.’ You point at the person most likely to do the thing.”
“Oh good,” Wednesday said, flat and cold. “A game of judgment. My favorite.”
“Exactly,” Yoko grinned.

“Okay, I’ll go first,” Enid said, hugging a pillow. “Most likely to be arrested for something extremely dumb.”
Everyone pointed at Ajax.
He gasped. “What? Why me?”
“You said you wanted to ride Pancake like a horse,” Bianca said.
“I was kidding!”
“I’m sure you’d do it” Enid said laughing
“Next one,” Luca jumped in. “Most likely to survive a zombie apocalypse.”
Everyone pointed at Wednesday, except herself, who pointed at Enid.
“You’re joking,” Bianca said.
“She has unreasonable optimism and refuses to die,” Wednesday replied. “She’d outlast all of us.”
“Awwww,” Enid sniffled.
“Okay, okay,” Yoko said. “Most likely to start a cult.”
Everyone pointed at Luca, but he pointed at Wednesday again.
He looked thrilled anyway. “Me? We have the queen of darkness right here.”
“You would create a cult out of dumb things like hockey, protein or cartoons.” Enid explained to her brother.
“Would you join?” He asked, smiling proudly.
“Immediately bro, for you” said Ajax.
“No,” said everyone else.

“Last one,” Divina said. “Most likely to fake a sick day just to get attention from their wife.”
Everyone slowly turned to Enid.
“I am sick!” she protested. “This is real! I’m pale!”
“But wouldn’t you fake it in the future?”
“I don’t know, but right now it’s real!”
“I assure you it is real, and it’s disgusting.” Wednesday said finally.
—————-
Half an hour later, they were at the table again. Yoko raised a brow and said, far too casually, “So, Enid, is it true you were about to murder someone this morning?”
“What?” Ajax asked; very confused but also very interested.
“I heard,” Yoko said, grinning, “from someone who heard from someone who was telling someone else, that during your pet training class some clueless girl flirted with a weirdly unbothered goth girl, and her sparkly wife turned feral and threatened her.”

Luca coughed. “Wait, for real?”
Enid turned bright red. “Okay, first of all, I didn’t threaten her, I warned her.”
“You growled.” Wednesday murmured, almost fond.
“She told you and Pancake you looked cute together! What was I supposed to do?!”
“Say thank you?” Divina offered.
“No, wrong,” Luca said. “You maul. That’s the protocol.”
“Exactly!” Enid cried. “Thank you, Luca!”

“But-“ Wednesday tried.
“You looked like you were enjoying it!” Enid spat.
“For the last time, I was not.”
“She winked at you.”
“I don’t recall that.”
“Oh, so you weren’t looking at-“
“No, Enid, I was not looking at her.”

“Oh my God,” Divina muttered. “You guys are embarrassing.”
Bianca smirked. “And you’re both blushing.”
“We’re not blushing,” they said at the same time.
—————
It was later in the night and some people in the group were hungry again.
“Hey, I found the extra mashed potatoes in the fridge,” Ajax announced. “Want me to warm them up?”
A lot of voices screamed “NO” at once, but it already was too late: he was pressing random buttons on Wednesday’s ancient stovetop microwave.
“Wait, why is there smoke?” Yoko said.
“Ajax, what did you press?”
“I thought the little skull meant ‘faster.’”
“Why would a skull mean faster?” Luca shouted. “That means death! That’s a whole death mode, dude!”

Enid coughed. “Why do we even have a death mode?!”
The microwave beeped once, then twice, then made a long, slow high pitched noise.
Pancake barked in panic and Wednesday launched forward and yanked the microwave door open with the dramatic flair of someone defusing a bomb.
“I swear, you are all idiots.” she muttered, “This is why this house is full of warning signs, it’s not my fault if you ignore them.”
——————
Everyone had cleared out after Wednesday subtly threatened them into submission. The kitchen smelled vaguely of burnt potato and lavender disinfectant; Pancake was asleep on the couch, belly up, legs flopped sideways, and
Enid, curled up under a blanket, was peeking over at Wednesday, who was carefully wiping down the microwave like it had personally betrayed her.

“You didn’t have to organise this little party or dinner or whatever for me, you know?” Enid murmured.
“I did,” Wednesday said without looking up. “You like company and you’re sick, that’s the least I could do.”
“Yeah, but you hate company. And you already took care of me the whole day.”
“I just wanted to make you feel good.”
“You did… thank you, Weds. You’re the best.”

“I just don’t want you to die.”
“That’s your romantic version of caring?”
In that moment, Wednesday returned from the kitchen with a mug in one hand and a small plastic bottle in the other.
“It’s time for tea and medicine again, I’ve cross-referenced three medical sources and two dark arts forums to confirm dosage.”
Enid blinked at her, smile creeping in. “You… what?”
“I don’t want to poison you by accident. As I said, I’d like you alive.”

Enid giggled, already taking the tea. “I love how your version of being sweet sounds like a murder confession.”
“I could rephrase it as a threat, if that’s more on-brand.”
“No, no, this is perfect.” She sipped, and sighed happily. “This might actually fix me.”

Wednesday still wasn’t sat: she was hovering in front of the couch, eyes scanning Enid’s face with scientific suspicion.
“Are you too warm?”
“No.”
“Too cold?”
“No.”
“Are your organs still functioning properly?”
“…Mostly?”

Finally, with the air of someone bracing for impact, Wednesday sat down beside her. Pancake gave a sleepy grunt and rolled onto Wednesday’s foot and Enid leaned a little toward her under the blanket. “You can relax now, you know. You survived my first flu as my wife and a very chaotic dinner party.”
“Barely. The stench of burned starch and the sound of Xavier trying to explain cryptocurrency will haunt me for weeks.”
“You made dinner for 8 people, alone.”
“I boiled things.”

“Don’t make it seem like it was nothing. You need to stay here and relax now.” Enid said, massaging her wife’s shoulders.
“Okay, I could get used to it.” She said, relaxing and letting go a deep breath.
“Thank you for everything Weds, you’re the best wife ever.”
“Mmh-mmh” Wednesday managed to let out, while enjoying the massage.
“You know what? We should take a ‘first flu together’ selfie and then frame it on this wall!” Enid suggested brightly, taking her phone with one hand and continuing to caress Wednesday with the other.
“Absolutely not.” Wednesday said, opening her eyes again, but in that exact moment Enid took the selfie.
“…I hate you.” Wednesday said.
“You said otherwise earlier.”

Chapter Text

The group was halfway through lunch, scattered across the long cafeteria table, when Wednesday leaned toward Enid.
“I think I neglected to tell you something.” she said in her usual low, even tone.
Enid perked up. “What’s up?”
“My brother is visiting this weekend,” Wednesday said. “He’ll be here from Friday to Sunday. Eugene would also like to stay for one day because there’s a… bug convention in the city or something weird like that. Is it possible that we squeeze them on our couch for a bit?”
“Wait,” Enid’s eyes lit up. “Pugsley and Eugene?”

Unfortunately, she didn’t notice that the table had gone suspiciously quiet until Yoko’s fork froze halfway to her mouth.
“Did you just say Pugsley as in your brother? And who is Eugene?” Yoko asked.
“Not that you should care,” Wednesday said flatly. “But he’s his roommate.”
“Roommate,” Divina repeated, drawing out the word. “And they’re staying together all weekend? Willingly?”

“Pugsley is, Eugene will be gone after the convention.” Wednesday corrected.
“Guys, are we thinking what I’m thinking?” Ajax said, smirking. “We’re gonna meet another gay couple!”
“What? No… they’re not together. At first they even hated each other, they’re just starting to get closer now.” Wednesday said suddenly, stopping to drink her water.
“Just roommates, who used to hate each other, who are just starting to become closer and closer, who are travelling together and, I repeat, willingly spend time with each other during weekends?” Divina let out without a breath “This sounds familiar.”

Both Enid and Wednesday blushed, and Yoko smirked. “That’s why I fell for you, babe. We have the same hobbies.”
“Is bothering people and shipping them without their consent while also getting too involved in their lives without anyone asking the hobby?” Wednesday said, flatly.
“It is! And it’s gonna get serious!” Yoko smiled, already typing something into her phone.
“Okay, I’m starting a bet,” she announced. “Are they dating or not? Winner gets bragging rights and Pancake for a day.”

“You cannot decide who takes my dog.” Wednesday warned.
“She’ll come back,” Yoko promised. “Probably.”
Luca leaned forward. “I’m voting yes. Obvious couple energy. I bet they-“
“Finish that sentence and I’ll remove your tongue.” Wednesday cut in.
“Also you don’t even know them” Enid added.
“I don’t, but they’re definitely a thing,” Luca said “I can tell.”

“I say they’re in love but in denial,” Divina added.
“Mutual pining,” Ajax declared. “Final answer.”
Wednesday sighed. “You are all incorrect. They are simply-“
“-living a slow-burn romance,” Yoko interrupted with a grin. “Aren’t you proud that your little brother got something from you?”
Enid giggled and bumped Wednesday’s shoulder. “Weds, you’ve gotta admit… this sounds somewhat familiar.”

“I will admit no such thing,” Wednesday replied, stabbing her salad. “Also, I was just talking to my wife about logistic for my brother’s visit, I don’t see why all of these people were listening to us and giving their useless opinions.”
“Because we’re… your friends?” Ajax offered.
“You’re just my wife’s ex. Why are we still hanging out with you anyway?”
“Okay? Rude? I’m just gonna try to ignore what you just said.” Ajax said, then pointed his fork at Wednesday. “Also, you know, for someone who is supposed to be careless about anyone, you’re awfully defensive.”
“I am not defensive,” Wednesday said. “I am correcting false assumptions made by people with poor judgment.”

“Sounds defensive,” Yoko sang.
Divina smirked. “Honestly, it’s giving protective big sister energy.”
“It’s giving denial,” Luca added. “Like, Olympic level.”
“I am not in denial,” Wednesday said, her tone perfectly flat but her grip on her fork tightening. “There is nothing to deny.”
“Except the fact that your brother and his ‘roommate’ are totally together” Luca said cheerfully.
“Say that again and I’ll use your phone to order 200 live crickets to your apartment.”
“That’s… oddly specific,” Ajax muttered.

“I think this is a good time to remind you that it went very well last time we all guessed you two were into each other.” Yoko said, waving her fork between Wednesday and Enid.
“That was different,” Wednesday replied. “And don’t try to convince me by taking my… relationship with Enid into this.”
“How was that different?” Divina challenged.

“Because it was…” Wednesday tried, but then went silent and just stared at the ceiling.
“Guys I think Divina broke her!” Ajax yelled.

Yoko suddenly slapped her phone down on the table like she was unveiling classified intel.
“Okay, here’s how the bet works. I’m making a shared doc, but you losers have to play fair.”
“Define fair,” Luca said.
“No outside interference,” Yoko said. “That means no locking them in closets, no leaving romantic music on in the background, no putting one blanket on the couch when they need two-“
“That last one sounds weird” Divina said.
“Shut up, it works every time,” Yoko shot back. “We observe, we record, and we score points based on interactions.”

Ajax squinted at her screen. “What are the categories?”
“Glad you asked,” Yoko said, swiping like she was running a TED Talk. “One point for prolonged eye contact, two for accidental touching, three for intentional touching, four for sharing food-“
“Sharing food is a big deal,” Divina nodded.
“Exactly. Oh, and bonus points for pining. Like, if one of them stares at the other when they’re not looking.”
“Oh god we’re so back, I remember when we were doing all of these bets and everything for those two” Ajax fake-cried, pointing at Wednesday and Enid.

Enid leaned in. “What if they just… talk?”
“That’s basic human interaction, zero points,” Yoko said. “Unless they talk in that soft, low, ‘I only talk like this to you’ voice, it’s three points.”
“That’s very Wednesday talking to Enid coded!” Divina said.
“This is ridiculous.” Wednesday muttered.

Yoko ignored her. “And, if they accidentally match clothes or colors, that’s five points. Coordinated outfits mean they’re already picturing themselves in wedding photos.”
“Stop it, it’s a very stupid thing and you’re trying to make it sound like it is science.” Wednesday said flatly.
“It’s people science,” Yoko corrected. “The most important kind.”

Luca grinned. “What about if they have an inside joke?”
“That’s instant ten points,” Yoko said, without hesitation.
Wednesday put down her fork. “You people are insufferable.”
“That’s why you married into it,” Yoko said with a smirk.
“Don’t remind me.”
——————-
That afternoon, when they got home from campus, Wednesday didn’t speak a word for the entire walk.
Enid knew that look: tight jaw, faint squint, the faintest twitch in her eyebrow.
She took off her shoes and flopped onto the couch, Pancake immediately hopping up to curl against her legs, while Wednesday walked toward the kitchen.

“Hey Weds,” Enid called after her, “you’ve been quiet since lunch... that usually means you’re plotting someone’s downfall, is this the case?”
“I am simply considering ways to stop a plague of idiocy from spreading in my immediate circle.” Wednesday said, emerging with two mugs of tea.
Enid accepted hers with a smile. “It’s not idiocy, it’s just… fun.”
“It’s baseless speculation, entirely unfounded.” Wednesday answered, flopping on the couch too.
Enid tilted her head. “Okay, you have to tell me what’s wrong now”
“Nothing is wrong.”
“Weds.”

“It’s just… your friends can be very insistent when they do that. It wasn’t very helpful for me when they were speculating about us the whole time. I was already very confused and nervous and they just made it worse.” Wednesday said, a hint of sadness in her voice.
“I’m so sorry… I didn’t know.”
“Because I was too embarrassed to even tell you that. It really made me uncomfortable, and angry since they were in my relationship’s business, which only me and you can enter into.”
“That’s awful and I’m very sorry you felt this way, I would have murdered Yoko if you told me”
“Don’t speak like me.”
“Guess you influenced me” Enid said smiling, and on Wednesday’s lips a little twitch happened.

“Do you want a hug and a kiss?” Enid tried after seconds of silence.
“No” Wednesday said “…yes.”
Enid’s smile grew and she wrapped her arms around her wife’s shoulders to give her a tight hug; then they faced each other, their noses brushing, and they just started smiling.
“I love you Weds, thank you for telling me that, even if a little late.” Enid said, just before kissing her.

“You know, I thought you were defensive because you did see the resemblance.” Enid said minutes after, when they had just stopped kissing.
“I am defensive because I have no desire to see my brother become a topic of casual gossip among people who have already proven themselves incapable of restraint.”
“Okay, but I wanted to ask you something else… you said our situation was different, but then you didn’t say why… I wanna know now!”
Wednesday didn’t answer immediately.
“It involved you,” she said finally.
Enid’s heart did an unhelpful little skip. “Meaning?”
“Meaning,” Wednesday continued, “that while their observations were still absurd at first, you were… tolerable company. Eugene is not you.”

Enid’s grin softened into something warmer. “That was almost sweet.”
“It was factual,” Wednesday corrected, though her tone was noticeably less sharp.
Enid leaned closer, her shoulder brushing Wednesday’s. “Well, for the record, I think Pugsley and Eugene are cute. If they are together, they’re lucky. If they’re not, then it’s just nice they get along now.”
“Or perhaps it’s simply strategic roommate cooperation in a shared living space.” Wednesday said.
“Also…” she continued “Our situation was different because it was… it was real. Very real, and theirs is not.”

Enid chuckled and let her head drop onto Wednesday’s shoulder. “Well that’s right, ours was real, but we don’t know about them yet.”
Wednesday didn’t move away, instead she made her fingers brush against her wife’s ones while their hands rested between them.

For all her irritation, Wednesday let out a quiet hum. “If they start, I will not be dragged into your friends’ betting pool.”
Enid smirked against her shoulder. “Too late, I may have already put our vote in.”
“…I want a divorce.”
“We just got married”
“I don’t care.”
“Come on, I’ll tell them to be quiet and not to bother them too much, okay? They won’t know about this”
—————-
The next day, Enid had just finished her afternoon class, Wednesday beside her with a stack of books tucked under one arm.
They had to hurry up to prepare for Pugsley arrival the next morning; Wednesday was mid-sentence about some obscure 18th-century horror novella when Luca’s voice cut through.
“Rainbow sis! Goth sis-in-law!”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “Do not call me that in public.”
“Goth or sis-in-law?”
“Guess.”

Luca was already jogging over, a tall stranger trailing behind him. Not just tall, but with broad shoulders, an easy smile, and the kind of sun-warmed skin that made him look like he belonged on a magazine cover for some fitness issue.
“Enid, Wednesday,” Luca announced, clapping his hands together. “Meet my new gymbro, Bruno Yuson.”
Bruno flashed a grin. “Hey, you must be Enid. Luca’s told me so much about you.”
Enid brightened, offering her hand. “All good things, I hope?”
“All amazing things,” Bruno said smoothly, his gaze lingering in a way that made Wednesday’s grip on her books tighten. “But wow, he never mentioned how gorgeous you are in person.”

Wednesday’s eyebrow twitched. “How charming.”
Bruno turned to her with an absent smile. “And you’re… Wednesday, right? Luca’s, uh… sister in law? How?”
“She’s my wife,” Enid said, half laughing as she gestured at her ring.
For a split second, Bruno blinked, but then he recovered with another almost creepy smile. “Oh. Wife, okay.“ He glanced back at Enid. “But seriously, if you ever want to come lift or jog sometime, I’m happy to accompany-“
“Don’t worry, she will not.” Wednesday cut in, voice sharp.

Luca, oblivious to the frost in her tone, slung an arm around Bruno’s shoulders. “Anyway, I just wanted to introduce him. We’re gonna grab protein shakes. You two wanna join?”
“No.” Wednesday said instantly.
Enid gave Luca an apologetic smile. “We’ve got plans. But nice to meet you, Bruno.”
“Same,” he said, with one last too-charming look before letting Luca pull him away.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Wednesday muttered, “I hate him.”
Enid laughed, bumping her shoulder against Wednesday’s. “You’ve known him for thirty seconds.”
“That was enough,” Wednesday replied darkly. “He’s tall, he’s loud, and he stares at you like a starving man in a butcher shop. I will not have it.”
Enid grinned. “Aww.”
“Don’t ‘aw’ me,” Wednesday said. “I’m thinking of a thousand ways to make this protein shake his last.”

“Yeah, they have a daughter too!” The girls heard Luca yelling from far away; Enid laughed and Wednesday rolled her eyes.
——————-
By the time they got back to the house, Enid had dumped her bag by the door and kicked off her shoes with the energy of someone already mentally rearranging furniture.
“Okay,” she announced, hands on hips, “so Pugsley gets the couch, Eugene will crash there too for one night, but we should still make it look nice. You know, pillows fluffed, blankets fresh, a scented candle maybe”
“No candles,” Wednesday said immediately, setting her books on the coffee table. “I will not have my brother inhaling artificial vanilla fumes and thinking he’s been invited to stay longer.”

Enid rolled her eyes. “Fine, no candles. But I’m making it cozy, I want them to feel welcome.”
“Why?” Wednesday asked, pulling the spare blanket from the linen closet with the air of someone selecting a weapon. “Pugsley would be content sleeping on a wooden plank and Eugene would likely prefer it if he thought there might be an exotic beetle living underneath.”
“That’s not the point,” Enid said, following her into the living room. “The point is, someone from the family’s visiting, and that’s special.“
Wednesday paused mid-fold, considering that. “True. I suppose I could kill one of the houseplants to mark the occasion.”

Enid burst out laughing. “Or… hear me out… we could make cookies?”
Wednesday gave her a long, blank stare. “You wish for me to bake.”
“Yes! It’s sweet and domestic and we’re gonna offer the cookies to Pugsley and Eugene!”
“I will poison them.”
“Weds.”
“Kidding.” A tiny pause. “Mostly.”

Enid grinned, stepping close and tugging the blanket out of Wednesday’s hands so she could fold it herself. “You know, you act all grumpy about this, but I think you’re excited to see him.”
“I am… mildly curious,” Wednesday admitted, adjusting a pillow so it was perfectly symmetrical. “He has survived another trimester without being expelled, that’s promising and weird.”
Enid’s voice softened. “And he gets to meet me again, officially as your married-married wife now.”
That made Wednesday’s expression falter; not in displeasure, but in that rare, still way she sometimes got when Enid caught her off guard. “Yes,” she said finally, her tone quieter. “That might be… almost satisfactory.”

Enid leaned in and kissed her cheek. “It’ll be more than satisfactory, it’s gonna be fun.”
Wednesday sniffed, resuming her obsessive pillow alignment. “We’ll see. If Eugene starts waxing poetic about any insect, I’m locking him outside.”
Enid laughed and tossed the folded blanket onto the couch. “Fair enough, but you’re still making cookies with me.”
“I’ll consider it.”

“Why are you caring so much about this all?” Wednesday asked then, seeing how much effort Enid was putting into setting the house for Pugsley’s arrival.
“What do you mean? I just want the best for my brother in law and my other future brother in law. Oops, sorry”
“Don’t worry, you’re allowed.”
“Oh my god, you didn’t kill me. Does that mean you ship them too? Kinda?”
“…I admit everything is a little suspicious. But if you tell the others I’ll divorce you.”
“Hey, stop threatening me with divorce!”
————————
Hours later, Wednesday was dragged into the kitchen, and Enid already had the counter covered in ingredients.
“I still don’t see why my brother requires baked goods.” Wednesday said, eyeing the mixing bowls like they might bite her.
“Because it’s nice!” Enid said cheerfully. “Plus, Pugsley loved the cupcakes we bought last time and you love Pugsley, even if you act like you don’t.”
“He is the only family member I have not plotted against in recent years, and that’s it.”
Enid snorted, cracking eggs into the bowl. “Well, you’re about to give him super affection, ‘cause we’re making double chocolate chip.”

Wednesday’s expression darkened slightly, but she picked up the measuring cup anyway. “Fine. But if the recipe fails, I’m blaming you and your cheerful instructions.”
They worked in a strange, somehow functional rhythm: Enid chattering about what they’d do when Pugsley arrived, Wednesday silently weighing flour with precision that could rival a lab scientist.
“Okay, now mix it,” Enid said, sliding the bowl toward her.
Wednesday picked up the wooden spoon like it was about to murder her. “If I wanted to build upper body strength, I’d lift with your gymbro weird brothers. This is absurd.”

“It’s not a that deep” Enid said, grinning. “Here, I’ll help.” She moved behind Wednesday, wrapping her arms around her waist and guiding her hands in the bowl.
Wednesday froze. “Are you attempting to seduce me over dough?”
“Maybe,” Enid teased. “It’s working, isn’t it?”
Wednesday’s lips twitched, but she kept stirring. “You’re lucky I want these cookies to be edible, or I’d throw flour in your face.”

Twenty minutes later, the first tray came out: perfectly baked, golden at the edges. Enid immediately took one, blew on it, and offered it to Wednesday.
“I don’t eat cookies.”
“You’ll eat this one.”
Wednesday eyed her for a moment, then took a small bite. Her eyes didn’t widen, but there was a subtle pause before she swallowed. “Acceptable.”
Enid grinned. “Translation: you love them.”
“Translation: they will not kill Pugsley. Unfortunately.”
“I’ll take it.”
——————
The next morning, Wednesday knew Pugsley was outside before she even reached the door: only her brother would knock like he was trying to wake the dead.
She opened the door slowly to find Pugsley grinning with a huge bag on one shoulder. Eugene stood just behind him, also carrying a bag and looking far too excited.
“Hey, sis!” Pugsley stepped inside without waiting. “Wow, redecoration. You’ve got way more knives than we have home.”
“They’re for cooking!” Enid clarified from behind, where the smell of pancakes was already spreading.

“Hey, sis-in-law!” Pugsley yelled, running through the room and hugging her.
“Woah, okay. Hi bro-in-law! Sorry, I’m not used to this kind of affection from Addamses”
“Stop calling you both weird names.” Wednesday said.
“We’re just stating the truth, we are siblings in law” Enid said, and Wednesday rolled her eyes, while Pugsley wandered toward the counter, peering at the mixing bowls like he might try eating the raw batter.
“Even more now!” He said, his smile growing. “I’m so happy my sister finally made a move.”

Eugene gave Wednesday an awkward little wave. “Hi, Mrs. Addams-Sinclair.”
Enid snorted from the kitchen, Wednesday’s eye twitched. “Never call me that again, I’m not that old. Plus, you already know me a little.”
“Yes, but I thought I had to be formal since now you’re married and also you’re hosting me. Thank you very much for this, by the way, I can’t wait to see those bugs.”
“You’re welcome but please stop talking.”
“Hi, Eugene! Please come in. Welcome to our modest home!” Enid said, far too excited.
“Thank you very much, Mrs. Addams-Sinclair. I brought honey as a thank you gift!” He said, taking a jar full of honey from his bag and handling it to her.
“I like this boy.” Enid said, almost teary.

Right after the gift giving, Pancake immediately bounded over, tail wagging so hard her whole body wiggled; Eugene crouched to greet her, cooing in the same voice he used for his bees. Pugsley gave the dog a solemn nod like they’d just signed a nonverbal truce, then Pancake jumped on him and made him fall on the floor.
“Woah, okay, okay. I get it, you’re excited to meet your uncle for the first time. I am too! You’re my first niece!” He said petting her aggressively from the floor.

Wednesday rolled her eyes and gestured toward the couch. “You’ll be sleeping there.”
“Both of us?” Eugene asked.
“Yes.” Wednesday replied.
“Together?”
“Is that a problem?” she asked flatly.
“No!” Both of them answered nervously.

Enid emerged with a plate of pancakes and grinned. “Breakfast before you guys head out? We made extra.”
“Sweet,” Pugsley said, already sitting.
Eugene sat next to him, a little closer than strictly necessary, and they immediately started bickering about whether or not to add syrup to every bite.
Wednesday caught Enid’s sidelong smile and rolled her eyes.
“What?” she muttered.
“Nothing,” Enid sing-songed, setting down a pitcher of orange juice. “Just… kinda familiar.”

Pugsley glanced up mid-bicker. “What’s familiar?”
“Nothing,” Enid said too quickly, sliding the pancakes toward him.
“It’s us,” Eugene guessed, grinning like he’d solved a puzzle. “I think she thinks we’re like them?”
Wednesday froze with her coffee halfway to her lips. “That is both factually and aesthetically incorrect, so no.”
“Uh-huh.” Eugene smirked, stabbing his pancake. “Sure, Mrs. A-S.”
“Do you want to be ejected before the bug convention?” Wednesday asked calmly.

Pugsley, oblivious, shoveled another forkful into his mouth. “If we were like you, I’d be way more glittery, and Eugene would… I dunno, wear more black.”
Enid snorted, leaning against the counter. “It’s just that… you guys literally live together, eat together, fight about breakfast together-“
“And apparently travel to bug conventions together.” Wednesday added dryly.

“Yeah, amazing discovery, we’re roommates.” Pugsley said firmly.
“Okay, sorry, you’re right” Enid admitted, but then smirked again when the two boys accidentally touched hands while taking maple syrup.

They managed to get through breakfast without said syrup ending up on the ceiling - which, for Pugsley, counted as a major achievement - and by the time Eugene had finished explaining the “three rare beetle species” he hoped to find at the convention and both boys finished all of the pancakes and cookies, they were bundled up and heading toward the door.
Enid waved them off with Pancake barking at their heels. “Have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“That’s not a helpful guideline.” Wednesday muttered, closing the door behind them.

Enid turned, hands on her hips, grinning like a cat that had caught something. “Sooo… slow-burn romance?”
“No.” Wednesday said immediately, moving toward the couch. “They are just roommates, Pugsley said that.”
“Mmh, okay. Let’s make other cookies again! They devoured the ones we made! I told you they were gonna love those!”
Before Wednesday could respond, there was a knock that made her narrow her eyes. “I have a guess on who might be.” She opened the door to find Yoko, Divina, Ajax, and Luca all crowded on the porch, pretending to look casual and failing spectacularly.

“Morning!” Yoko said brightly. “We were just… in the neighborhood.”
“It’s 10 a.m. on a Friday and none of you live that close.”
“Tiny little non important details” Luca said, brushing past her. “Where are they?”
Enid laughed. “You guys are unbelievable.”
Divina pulled out her phone. “We just want to see if they’re actually sus. For… research.”
Wednesday shut the door with a little more force than necessary. “This is pathetic.”
Ajax grinned. “Bet is open. Today could be the day we get proof.”

Enid flopped onto the couch. “Alright, but rules are: no direct interrogation, no scaring them, no bothering them and no stalking. Is it clear?”
“Why is there a rules committee for this?” Yoko demanded.
“Because,” Enid said solemnly, “when and if love is on the line, we respect the process.”
“Come on, don’t be boring!” Yoko said.
“I’m not being boring, I’m making sure my family is respected.” She replied, and for a moment Wednesday smiled softly without even noticing. When she did, her stoic expression quickly came back.

Luca threw himself into the armchair. “Alright, no stalking,” he said, stretching out like he was preparing for a nap, “but if they happen to walk into the same café I’m in, I’m legally allowed to observe.”
“That’s called stalking with extra steps. Also, that’s not how laws work.” Wednesday said flatly.
“That’s not even how bets work,” Enid added, hands on her hips.

Ajax leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “What if we just… hang out near the convention? Not spying. Just… breathing the same air as them.”
Yoko brightened. “Yes! Casual, natural-“
“-creepy,” Wednesday cut in. “If you breathe the same air, I hope you all suffocate.”
Divina raised a hand like she was in class. “I’m just saying, bugs are cool. It wouldn’t be weird for us to go.”

Enid pointed her spatula at her. “No, Divina. It would be exactly weird. You’ve never once mentioned an interest in bugs until this morning.”
Divina shrugged. “That’s because my interest is… recent.”
“And very suspicious,” Wednesday muttered, sitting on the arm of the couch next to Enid, arms crossed, gaze sharp. “Pugsley and Eugene will be fine without your collective interference.”

“Yes, but… I don’t know, I can ‘accidentally’ take a selfie if they’re in the background. That’s not stalking. That’s art.” Divina said.
“That’s invasive,” Wednesday corrected. “And I’ll break your phone if you try.”
Enid leaned back against her, smiling in spite of herself. “You guys seriously have nothing better to do?”
Ajax perked up. “Nothing more important than romance.”
“That’s sweet,” Enid said.
“That’s disturbing.” Wednesday countered.

Luca pointed between them. “You two are literally proof that roommates can turn into spouses so of course we’re invested. This could be history repeating itself!”
“For the last time, the marriage wasn’t intentional.” Wednesday said, standing. “Also, you’re all creepy. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have something to do.”
Enid followed her toward the kitchen, glancing back at the others with a look that screamed ‘don’t ruin this for me’ and mouthing ‘stop’. Yoko mouthed ‘too late’.
Enid slid into the kitchen after Wednesday and shut the door with her hip, like that would somehow block out the sound of the group’s muffled laughter.

“Weds, I’m sorry…” Enid said, reaching for the sugar jar.
“They’re insufferable,” Wednesday said, already pulling a mixing bowl from the cabinet. “And unfortunately, they’re also persistent.”
Enid grinned. “Persistent is just a nice way of saying ‘they’re gonna keep poking until something happens.’”
“Yes, except nothing is going to happen.” Wednesday said, pouring flour with surgical precision.
“Mmhm,” Enid hummed, cracking eggs into a smaller bowl. “I don’t wanna be that person, but… that’s exactly what you said about us, remember?”
Wednesday paused, eyes flicking up in slow suspicion. “…That is irrelevant.”
“Okay, but…” Enid teased, bumping her hip lightly against Wednesday’s. “Two people who start off not liking each other, get stuck together, then-“
“-start making cookies for one of their brothers, for the second time in less than 48 hours?” Wednesday offered, deadpan.
“Exactly!” Enid beamed, grabbing the whisk. “I’m just saying, maybe they’re right and Pugsley’s really living his own little romcom and you should let him.”

“If he is, he should keep it far away from me,” Wednesday muttered.
“You know,” Enid said softly, “it’s kinda cute you wanted to make cookies for him again.”
Wednesday’s hands stilled for half a second before she busied herself with the baking sheet. “I did not want to. It was simply the most efficient way to ensure he doesn’t devour the rest of our food supply the second he comes back.”
“Sure,” Enid said, leaning in close to peek at her face. “And it has nothing to do with you being secretly sweet.”
“I already told you, I am not sweet.” Wednesday replied automatically.
Enid smiled and kissed her cheek without warning. “Yeah, you are.”
Wednesday blinked. “…Fine. I will tolerate you saying that. Once.”

They finished the dough together, Enid adding extra chocolate chips just to annoy Wednesday (“It will throw off the balance.” / “That’s the point, Weds, it’s fun.”).
Then, a knock came at the kitchen door.
Wednesday didn’t even look up. “No.”

“Come on, Wednesday” Yoko’s voice came through, muffled but unmistakably amused. “We’re sorry.”
Enid exchanged a look with Wednesday. “That didn’t sound very sorry.”
Ajax’s voice followed, a little too cheerful. “Yeah, but we’re kind of sorry, and that counts.”
Wednesday finally glanced toward the door, eyes narrowing. “Apologies lose their value when issued without sincerity.”
Divina jumped in. “We are sincere! We promise no interrogations, no stalking, no-“ She stopped, clearly whispering something to someone else before continuing. “- okay, no direct stalking.”
“That’s not the same thing,” Enid called out, giggling.
“Please just let us in,” Luca added. “We’ll be good. Pinky swear.”
“You don’t have pinkies I trust,” Wednesday said, but Enid was already heading toward the door.
“Don’t worry Weds, if you feel overwhelmed again you just have to tell me, okay?” She asked her wife, whispering and quickly hugging her.
After a nod, she cracked the door open to find all four of them clustered there.
“See?” Yoko grinned. “Friendly faces, totally harmless.”
“Harmless people don’t show up uninvited.” Wednesday replied.
“I’ve been showing up invited since day one, what do you mean?” Yoko said.
“Correction,” Luca said, leaning on the doorframe. “Harmless and invested.”

Enid sighed and waved them in. “You guys are lucky we’re making cookies, or you’d be dead.”
Yoko perked up immediately. “Ooh, cookies?”
“They’re for my brother and his roommate.” Wednesday stated, as if that closed the discussion.
“Right,” Yoko said, grabbing one off the cooling rack anyway. “And I’m just testing them for poison, you’re welcome.”
Wednesday’s glare could have cut steel, Enid laughed and shoved the plate further away from the group before another hand could sneak one.

Divina cleared her throat. “Sooo… speaking of tonight…”
“Nobody was speaking of tonight.” Wednesday said.
“Well, now we are,” Yoko jumped in. “And we were wondering if maybe we could… have dinner with you guys?”
Enid paused mid-stir. “Here?”
Ajax nodded earnestly. “Yeah! Like, a welcome dinner for Pugsley and a goodbye one for Eugene. A totally normal, casual hangout, no… whatever you think we’re plotting.”
“You are plotting,” Wednesday said.

Luca leaned against the counter, flashing an unconvincing smile. “Okay, but it’s still a nice idea. We get food, you get company, and I get to meet my sister’s brother-in-law in a totally natural, non-bet-related environment.”
Enid arched a brow. “That’s suspicious.”
“Nooo,” Yoko said, drawing the word out way too long.

“Absolutely not. Not that I wanted you weird people to come but even if I did we can’t do that. I doubt all of us plus Pugsley and Eugene will fit in this house.” Wednesday said, trying to find excuses.
“I know that one time you made all of your like 100 brothers-in-law fit in here for dinner just to make your wife happy.”
“We’re not-“ Luca started.
“…That’s indeed true.” Wednesday said, side eyeing Yoko. “You can come, but only if you leave right now and only come back for dinner. Also, drop the bet.”
Yoko grinned like she’d just won something. “Deal.” she said, then left, running, with the other three.
—————-
“Back!” Pugsley shouted hours later, like he had just returned from battle. He was carrying a plastic bag full of bug-shaped souvenirs Eugene had clearly guilt-tripped him into buying.
Enid perked up. “Oh, hi boys! Perfect timing, I wanted to tell you guys that we’re all having dinner with our friends tonight.”
Pugsley paused mid-step, one eyebrow rising. “Dinner? With… other people?”
“Yes,” Wednesday said flatly. “And that’s not my fault.”

For a moment Pugsley looked almost suspicious, but then his face split into a grin. “Wait, like your crew? Those strange guys like Enid’s gay ex and stuff?”
Enid laughed. “Yeah, those guys.”
“I do not have a ‘crew’.” Wednesday replied.

“Oh, nice! Free food and people to bother, I’m in.” He rubbed his hands together, already looking far too entertained. “Think they’ll let me tell embarrassing Wednesday stories at the table?”
“No.” Wednesday answered immediately.
“Yes.” Enid corrected, just as quickly.

Meanwhile, Eugene hovered by the door. “Dinner. Right. That’s… cool. I can do dinner. Food, chairs, talking. Totally normal.”
Pugsley squinted at him. “You don’t look excited.”
“I am excited,” Eugene insisted, voice a touch too high. “Just, you know, uh… meeting people, first impressions, making sure I don’t say anything dumb.”
“You’ve already failed.” Wednesday noted.
Eugene tugged at his collar. “See? Exactly what I mean.”

Enid crossed the room and squeezed his arm gently. “Don’t worry, they’ll love you. I mean, you’ll probably end up talking about bugs the whole time and they’ll think it’s adorable.”
Wednesday blinked. “You think bug talk is… adorable?”
Pugsley flopped onto the couch, grinning like this was the best news he’d heard all week. “This is gonna be great, I get to eat and watch Eugene panic at the same time. Two for one.”
Wednesday’s gaze flicked between them all before she finally sighed. “I despise every single thing about this development.”

Enid leaned closer, nudging her gently. “Except me.”
Wednesday’s silence was, of course, an admission.
——————-
By the time the doorbell rang, the table was set with enough food to feed at least twice the number of people actually present. Enid was fussing with the napkins when Pancake’s ears shot up; the dog bolted for the door, tail wagging like a propeller.

Wednesday opened it to find the entire friend group waiting, Luca front and center, holding a Tupperware like an offering. Yoko, Divina, Bianca, Xavier and Ajax squeezed behind him, all looking far too eager.
“Here we are!” Yoko grinned. “We brought food. And by ‘we,’ I mean Divina’s dad cooked something and he stole it.”
“Borrowed,” Luca corrected smoothly, then stepped inside. He spotted Pugsley immediately and grinned. “Yo! You must be the infamous brother. I’ve heard about you.”

Pugsley tilted his head, suspicious. “Heard what?”
“That you’re cooler than your sister.”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed like a guillotine about to drop, but Pugsley instantly burst into laughter and slapped Luca’s hand in a messy high-five. “Finally! Someone who gets it!”
“Do not encourage him,” Wednesday said, but her warning went ignored as Pancake leapt directly into Luca’s stomach, sending him stumbling back into the wall with an “oof.”
Meanwhile, Eugene lingered awkwardly by the kitchen door until Divina gave him a bright smile. “And you must be Eugene!” she said. “I’m Divina. This is Yoko, Ajax, Luca, Bianca and Xavier. It’s a lot, I know.”

“Yes! Guys, this is Pugsley, my favourite brother” Enid started, then saw Luca looking at her like he wanted to kill her “…in law, and this is his roommate Eugene.”
Eugene nearly dropped the box of bug stuff he bought earlier in his rush to wave. “Uh - hi! Yeah, hi. Eugene. It’s, um… really nice to meet you all.“
“Aw, he’s polite,” Yoko said, immediately circling him like a shark. “Careful, that’ll get you eaten alive around here.”
Eugene looked like he wasn’t sure if she was joking. “Right, cool, totally fine, love that.”

Pugsley slung an arm around him. “Don’t worry, Gene. If they mess with you, just let Pancake attack them.”
“Pancake attacks everyone indiscriminately.” Wednesday corrected, stepping aside as the dog launched herself onto the couch, narrowly missing Divina’s lap.
“See? Equal opportunity,” Pugsley said cheerfully.
Enid clapped her hands, trying to herd everyone toward the table. “Okay, okay! Introductions done, dog chaos complete, can we all sit before Pancake eats the food for us?”
Too late: Pancake was already sniffing at the breadbasket, tail wagging furiously.

Dinner had barely started when the interrogation began.
“So,” Yoko said, leaning forward with her chin on her hand, eyes glittering. “Since you’re here, tell us everything about little Wednesday.”
Pugsley grinned. “Oh, you want stories? I’ve got plenty.”
Wednesday set down her knife with deliberate precision. “No, you don’t.”
“Yeah, I do,” Pugsley said happily, completely ignoring her. “Like the time she tried to-“
“Pugsley.” Wednesday’s tone was sharp enough to cut the air.

“…train a murder of crows to attack me on command. Didn’t work, they just pooped on her hat.”
The table erupted in laughter.
“Oh my god,” Enid squealed, clutching her chest. “Little Wednesday in a tiny hat with little birds?? That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“It was not cute,” Wednesday corrected. “It was a strategic failure.”
“Still cute,” Enid said, dreamy-eyed.

Pugsley leaned back, smirking. “She also used to sew her dolls little coffins instead of clothes.“
“Adorable,” Enid gasped. “My wife the spooky prodigy.”
Divina raised her brows. “She’s been consistent, I’ll give her that.”
“Pugsley,” Wednesday warned, her voice like a low growl.

But he was unstoppable now. “Oh! And once she got grounded for digging a fake grave in our backyard and charging neighborhood kids five bucks to see a ‘real ghost.’”
Ajax nearly spat out his juice. “She was running a business as a kid?!”
“Entrepreneur,” Yoko said approvingly. “Respect.”

Enid was practically vibrating with delight, her cheeks pink from grinning. “Wednesday Addams-Sinclair, you absolutely cute menace, I can’t believe I didn’t know this!”
Wednesday pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something about regretting the invention of family.

Pugsley was on a roll now, clearly delighted to have an audience.
“Okay, okay, this one’s my favorite. She once filled my room with tarantulas because I borrowed something without asking.”
Enid gasped, hands clasping together like it was a love confession. “Baby Wednesday wrangling spiders?? That’s the most precious thing I’ve ever heard.”
Xavier blinked. “Enid, that’s… terrifying.”
“No!” Enid shook her head furiously. “It’s so her! Like, she was already practicing her villain aesthetic. So dedicated. I love it.”
“Dedicated to traumatizing me,” Pugsley added, though he didn’t sound too mad about it.
“Cute.” Enid sighed, and Pancake, as if agreeing, plopped her head on Enid’s lap.

Pugsley tilted his head. “Okay, what about that other time when she convinced me bees would ignore me if I just stood still and ‘let them feel my aura’? I got stung nine times!”
Enid gasped again, clutching Wednesday’s arm. “You gave life lessons at that age?! My little philosopher!”
Wednesday closed her eyes like she was begging some higher power to smite her where she sat.

“Enid,” Yoko said slowly, “I feel like you’re… misinterpreting these stories.”
Enid’s smile was bright, unshaken. “Nope, I just see the vision.”
“Yeah,” Luca muttered. “Vision of future evil overlord.”
“Which is so cute!” Enid insisted, practically bouncing in her chair. “Can you imagine her in little braids and black hoodies, scaring all the other kids at school? I wish I’d known her then.”

Wednesday finally snapped her eyes open, fixing her with a flat stare. “You wouldn’t have liked me.”
“Yes, I would have,” Enid said instantly, leaning her head against Wednesday’s shoulder with a grin. “I always do.”
That earned a chorus of groans and exaggerated gagging noises from the table.
Pugsley grinned around a mouthful of food. “Oh, I’ve got another! When she was eleven, she made me dig a six-foot hole because she said it was ‘character building.’ I didn’t even know it was for her science project until later.”
“That’s… child labor,” Divina said flatly.
“Adorable,” Enid whispered, absolutely gone, looking at Wednesday like she was the only person in that room.

Pugsley leaned back in his chair, grinning as everyone waited for the next horror story. But instead of smirking, his expression softened.
“You know…” he started, twirling his fork, “she wasn’t always trying to bury me alive. Sometimes she was actually… nice.”
The table went quiet, even Pancake tilted her head like ‘what did he just say?’ and Eugene looked up to give Pugsley a little encouragement smile.

Pugsley shrugged, eyes flicking toward his sister. “When I was little, I used to get scared of thunderstorms. I’d try to pretend I wasn’t, but Wednesday always knew. She’d sit with me in my room the whole night, reading out loud until I fell asleep. Usually Edgar Allan Poe or, like, murder ballads, but still. It helped.”
Enid’s hand shot to her heart. “Stop. STOP. That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard in my whole LIFE.”

Wednesday’s face betrayed nothing, but the tips of her ears were turning an undeniable shade of pink.
Divina squinted. “Wait… Wednesday, this Wednesday, comforted a crying child?”
“She did,” Pugsley said firmly. “She even threatened to hunt down the thunder and cut its throat if it didn’t leave me alone.”

Enid practically melted against Wednesday’s shoulder, eyes shining. “My baby protector… you’re not allowed to tell me that and expect me not to cry.”
“I will permit no crying at my dinner table.” Wednesday said, monotone.
“She’s blushing,” Yoko stage-whispered. “She’s totally blushing.”
“I am not,” Wednesday snapped, stabbing her potatoes with too much precision.

Ajax leaned back with a grin. “Wow. Guess Pugsley won dinner. We’ve officially learned more about Wednesday’s feelings from him in ten minutes than from her in years.”
“I rescind my invitation.” Wednesday muttered.
Enid only hugged her tighter. “Too late, now I’m never letting this image go.”
——————-
“So, boys,” Yoko said, leaning her chin on her hand, eyes glinting. “What’s your roommate situation like? Clean? Messy?”
Pugsley shrugged. “Messy. But only ‘cause Eugene’s got all his bug cases and weird jars. My stuff’s totally fine.”
Eugene’s ears went a little pink. “Your stuff explodes sometimes.”
“That’s science,” Pugsley said proudly.

The table chuckled, everyone’s eyes flicking to each other like they’d just gotten confirmation of something.
Divina jumped in next. “What about food? Who cooks?”
“I do,” Eugene said quickly. “Because if I don’t, he’ll… put ketchup on pasta again.”
“That was one time!” Pugsley argued. “And it was good.”
“Uh-huh,” Eugene muttered, but he was smiling.

Ajax leaned forward. “So you guys eat together, too?”
“Yeah? We live in the same place,” Pugsley said, clearly confused why that was even a question.
Yoko bit back a grin.
Luca chimed in next, deliberately casual. “Do you… like, hang out outside of classes? Or just at home?”
“Both,” Pugsley said. “We go to the arcade sometimes, but he sucks at claw machines.”
Eugene huffed. “Stop bragging.”

Across the table, Enid pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh, while Wednesday stared at her friends with the look of someone planning six different ways to poison their desserts.
“Wow,” Divina said brightly. “Sounds like you two spend a lot of time together.”
“Yeah,” Pugsley said easily. “Why wouldn’t we?”
The table full of grins in response made him blink in confusion.
——————
Luca and Xavier were arguing about whether horror movies or action flicks were better gym-watch material, Divina was trying to sneak vegetables onto Yoko’s plate without her noticing, and Pancake had decided her rightful spot was under the table, begging shamelessly.
“Your dog just licked my ankle,” Eugene said nervously, shifting his chair.
“She’s being polite,” Enid said, unfazed. “That means she likes you!”
“Polite?” Wednesday repeated. “She’s demanding tribute.”

Eugene laughed and reached down to scratch Pancake behind the ears, and she promptly flopped onto his shoes like she’d claimed him.
“Guess you’ve been adopted,” Enid teased.
“I don’t mind,” Eugene said with a shrug. “I mean, animals are always better than people.”
“Excuse me?!” Yoko yelped.
Chaos broke out again: Yoko defending herself, Luca pretending to be wounded, Ajax banging the table and yelling “POTATO BETRAYAL” for no reason.

Through the noise, Enid noticed something quieter: Pugsley filling his glass with water, then looking at Eugene’s one and, after realising it was empty, automatically filling his glass too.
“Thanks,” Eugene said.
Pugsley ducked his head, smiling at him. “No problem.”
It was small. Barely anything. But Enid’s instincts prickled and her smile grew, so she hid it behind her juice glass.
Because she’d seen that exact kind of silent rhythm before. Every day, in her own kitchen.
——————-
Dinner had somehow turned into a rapid-fire round of questions again.
“So, uh,” Ajax said between bites, trying to sound casual, “favorite movie?”
“Anything with explosions,” Pugsley answered instantly.
“Documentaries,” Eugene said.
The table chuckled, but Enid caught the way Pugsley tilted his head toward Eugene with an amused grin. “Documentaries?”
“They’re educational,” Eugene defended. “Some people appreciate learning.”
“Some people,” Pugsley teased, “like watching things blow up.”
Instead of snapping back, Eugene smirked into his juice glass. Enid’s eyebrows shot up.

“Alright,” Divina said slyly, “dream vacation?”
“Somewhere with a lot of caves,” Pugsley said. “Dark. Dangerous. Maybe bats.”
“The Amazon rainforest,” Eugene replied, eyes bright.
“Wow, specific,” Luca said.
“Do you have any idea how many insect species live there?” Eugene said, leaning forward in his chair. “Thousands. You’d need years just to catalog-“
He cut himself off, flushing. Pugsley, however, looked delighted. “Okay, that’s actually kind of cool.”

Enid pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. Across the table, Yoko was watching too, biting back her own grin.
The chaos only escalated when Pancake jumped up onto Eugene’s lap mid-sentence, nearly sending his fork flying. Eugene fumbled, startled, but Pugsley reacted without thinking, steadying Eugene’s plate with one hand and scratching Pancake behind the ears with the other.
“Yes, she really likes you,” Pugsley said, almost proud.
Eugene gave a sheepish smile. “Guess I pass the test, huh?”

Enid’s heart squeezed. She knew that tone. That shy, surprised warmth. And she knew the look Pugsley gave him in return: the same look she used to give Wednesday before she ever admitted it out loud.
She glanced across the table at her wife, who was calmly sipping tea like none of this mattered. But Enid could see the tiniest twitch of Wednesday’s mouth, the one that always betrayed when she noticed something too.

“Next question,” Yoko said, eyes glinting like she was hosting a game show. “Ideal type of… roommate?”
“Someone who doesn’t steal food,” Pugsley said immediately, glaring playfully at Eugene.
“I don’t steal it,” Eugene protested. “I sample, for science.”

The table chuckled. Divina leaned forward. “Okay, but, like… actual ideal roommate? Describe.”
“What even is that question?” Wednesday asked, exhausted.
Pugsley opened his mouth, but Eugene beat him to it. “Honestly? Just someone patient enough to live with me and my… bugs. And, uh-“ he scratched the back of his neck, “- ideally someone who doesn’t judge me for, you know, my weirdness, or things like that.”
“So I’m perfect.” Pugsley said jokingly, and the whole table gasped.

“Okay, juicer question. Are you guys dating someone at school?” Yoko said, dropping the bomb, while Wednesday was looking at her like she was plotting a murder.
“No, I’m not” Pugsley just replied.
“Me neither. I’m not really… interested in dating right now.” Eugene said.
There was a small pause, but Eugene didn’t even notice it: he was too busy trying to keep Pancake from licking his hand under the table; he then went back to cutting his food like nothing had happened, while the table exchanged quick, unreadable glances.
Pugsley stabbed at his pancake a little too hard. “Right. Cool. Good to know.”
“Very.” Wednesday said, her tone clipped as always.

Divina shifted gears with a bright smile. “So, uh, Pugsley, what’s the worst bug Eugene’s ever brought home?”
“Depends if you mean ‘gross’ or ‘scary,’” Pugsley answered, though his voice was flatter than before. “But the centipede incident probably qualifies as both.”
The conversation carried on easily enough, friends throwing questions back and forth, but Enid’s gaze kept flicking to her brother-in-law. He was answering, sure, even joking here and there, but there was a stiffness in his shoulders that wasn’t usually there. Every time Eugene talked, Pugsley’s eyes darted toward him, too quick, too careful, like he was trying to read between lines nobody else was hearing.

Eugene, oblivious as ever, kept talking about bugs and conventions, gesturing animatedly with his fork. Pancake sat pressed against his legs under the table, as if she’d already picked him as her new favorite.
——————
The house had gone quiet after dinner, the last of the dishes stacked neatly in the drying rack. Pancake had collapsed in a heap on her bed, too tired from the excitement to even twitch an ear and the friend group had gone home
Enid leaned against the counter, drying her hands on a dish towel. She watched Wednesday for a moment, the way her wife wiped down the table with sharp, methodical strokes. “You know,” Enid said lightly, “you’re kinda scary when you clean.”
“I find filth unacceptable. It breeds weakness,” Wednesday replied without looking up.
“And kinda hot too.” Enid said, and Wednesday looked up to meet her gaze.

Enid grinned, but the expression softened. “Can I say something? Don’t, like, bite me.”
“That depends on the quality of your observation.”
Enid tossed the towel onto the counter and stepped closer. “I think Pugsley… might actually feel something for Eugene.”
Wednesday turned slowly, brows arching just enough to suggest surprise, but her voice stayed even. “You base this theory on what, exactly?”
“The way he kept watching him,” Enid said gently. “Not in a ‘wow, he’s weird’ way, but in a ‘I want to hear what he’s gonna say next’ way. And when Eugene said that thing about not being into dating… Pugsley got all stiff. You saw it too.”

Wednesday’s lips pressed into a line. “…Yes.”
Enid reached out, brushing Wednesday’s hand with her fingers. “I know you’re his big sister. And I know you’re not, like, the heart-to-heart type. But Pugsley trusts you, Weds. You’re like his trusted adult. If he’s confused, or upset, or whatever’s going on in that brain of his, you’re the one he’ll listen to.”
Wednesday was silent for a long moment, her gaze fixed on the dark window above the sink. Finally, she exhaled. “You’re suggesting I… talk to him.”
“Not suggesting.” Enid smiled softly, squeezing her hand now. “Telling. Because can you imagine him asking your parents for love advice? That would be messy, and they would surely go crazy and make him uncomfortable. You’re actually his only trusted adult, Weds.”

Wednesday blinked at her, the faintest crease forming between her brows. “I am not an adult.”
“You’re married, you pay bills, and you own, like, thirty knives just for the kitchen. You’re ancient,” Enid teased, but her eyes were warm.

For a beat, the only sound was the faint hum of the fridge. Then, very quietly, Wednesday said, “If he is… feeling something, I don’t want him to be hurt.”
“I know,” Enid whispered. “That’s why you should talk to him. Just… let him know you’re there. You don’t have to fix it all.”
Wednesday’s fingers tightened around hers, almost unconsciously. “…Very well.”
Enid beamed, leaning up to kiss her cheek. “See? You’re a great sister. And a great wife.”
“I will accept one of those titles,” Wednesday murmured, but the corner of her mouth tugged upward before she pulled Enid in for a quick, deliberate kiss.
——————
Pugsley was sprawled on the couch with Pancake half on his chest, scrolling through his phone, while Eugene was in the bathroom. Wednesday stood in the doorway, her arms clasped behind her back.
Finally, she stepped forward. “Hello, Pugsley. I wanted to talk to you about something my wife and I believe may be important to your… development.”
Pugsley didn’t even look up. “Enid forced you, didn’t she?”
There was a beat of silence. “…Of course she did.” Wednesday admitted flatly.

Now he looked up, smirking. “She’s great.”
“Annoyingly so,” Wednesday muttered, but then her tone sharpened again. “Nevertheless, the matter remains. During dinner, you displayed… indicators. The sort of indicators that suggested you may have an… attachment.”
Pugsley squinted at her. “You mean Eugene.”
Wednesday’s gaze flickered, but she nodded once. “Yes. Him.”

Pugsley set his phone down and sat up a little, careful not to disturb Pancake, who had begun snoring against his ribs. “What about him?”
“That is what I am attempting to ascertain.” Wednesday’s voice was dry. “If your feelings are leaning in that direction, you should be aware it may complicate matters. You’ll need to decide whether to act on them or bury them.”
Pugsley gave her a crooked grin. “You sound like you’re narrating a murder mystery. Are you uncomfortable?”

Wednesday didn’t react. “That is because, in a way, you are standing at the precipice of one. The death of a friendship, or the death of denial. And of course I’m uncomfortable.”
He was quiet for a second, actually thinking. Then, with a shrug, he said, “I guess I like being around him. That’s all.”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “For now. We’re just worried that-“
Pugsley chuckled, leaning back against the cushions again. “Relax, sis. If something bad happens, I’ll handle it. I mean, I can do feelings. You got with your wife thanks to my precious advices, remember?”
“That is not true.” Wednesday said, crossing her arms.

There was a faint creak outside the door.
“Did you hear that?” Wednesday asked.
Pugsley frowned. “…Is Enid spying on us right now?”
Wednesday’s head snapped toward the door and a shadow shuffled.
“Absolutely not!” Enid’s voice rang out a little too quickly, followed by the squeak of her sneakers retreating a few steps. She popped her head inside a moment later, cheeks pink. “Okay, okay! Maybe a little. But in my defense, that’s just because I care, and this is a big deal. I just… wanted to make sure you were doing alright.”
Pugsley laughed, flopping back on the couch. “You two are literally the worst. There’s two of you now? Brutal.”

Enid flopped on the couch too and slung an arm around Pugsley’s shoulders. “Yes, you’ve officially got two big sisters watching your back now. Like, always.”
He looked between them and muttered “This is gonna be a nightmare.” But he smiled, and Wednesday slowly placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding and steady, while Enid squeezed him into a half-hug. “Family’s supposed to be a little annoying sometimes.”
“Mission accomplished, then,” Pugsley said.

Nobody talked and, for a moment, they let the silence stretch, Pancake snoring like a chainsaw between them. Then, Pugsley’s grin faded into something softer.
“…It’s not like I don’t know what this is,” he muttered. “I like him. I… think I’ve liked him for a while, actually.”

Enid’s face lit up instantly, but before she could explode with sunshine support, Pugsley held up a hand. “And yeah, before you say anything, I heard him at dinner. ‘Not interested in dating right now.’ I’m okay.”
The brightness in Enid’s expression softened into something gentler. “Oh, Pugs…”
Wednesday tilted her head, gaze sharp as ever. “So you intend to bury your feelings.”

He made a face. “What choice do I have? I’m not gonna, like, confess just to make things weird. If he doesn’t want to date, then he doesn’t want to date.”
“Pragmatic,” Wednesday said approvingly. “But you should also remember that people can change their minds. It’s not like he’ll never be interested in dating, he said it himself.”
Enid squeezed his shoulder. “She‘s right… don’t give up on yourself. Even if Eugene’s not ready now, it doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to feel what you feel.”

Pugsley stared at the ceiling, quiet for a moment. “…Do you think Mom and Dad would care? If I told them?”
Wednesday’s voice lost none of its dryness, but there was an edge of certainty to it. “They would not only approve, but they would throw you an engagement party before you even confessed.”
Enid laughed softly. “Honestly, true.” She leaned her head against Pugsley’s. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight. But you’re allowed to like him, okay? Even if he’s not in the same place right now.”

Pugsley chuckled under his breath, a little wry but a little relieved too. “You guys are actually… not the worst.”
Wednesday arched a brow. “High praise.”

Just then, the bathroom door creaked open. Eugene padded out, toweling his hands, squinting slightly. “Hey, uh… has anyone seen my glasses?”
Instantly, Pugsley tensed. Wednesday and Enid shared the quickest glance of solidarity.
“…Don’t,” Pugsley whispered at them.
Enid’s eyes sparkled. “What? I didn’t say anything.”
Wednesday’s monotone was perfectly, ominously calm. “Your secret remains safe. For now.”
Pugsley turned scarlet and grabbed a pillow to hurl at her before Eugene stumbled blindly into the room.
———————
It was bed time, and Enid lay sprawled on the bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling.
She was still buzzing, half from relief over Pugsley opening up, half from how proud she felt of the way she and Wednesday had handled it together.
The door creaked. Light footsteps crossed the floor until Wednesday appeared at her side, tilting her head, sharp eyes catching the weird look on Enid’s face.

“What’s wrong?” Wednesday asked, voice quiet but firm.
Enid blinked up at her. Then, without hesitation, she said, “Should we have kids?”
There was a solid second of silence, then…
“ENID, WHAT?” Wednesday practically yelled, voice slicing through the whist silence of the house.
Enid sat up immediately, horrified. “Oh my god, you’re freaking out!”

“Of course I’m freaking out! You’re talking about having kids!” Wednesday snapped, her cheeks blooming with the faintest pink.
Enid threw her hands up. “BUT WHY ARE YOU FREAKING OUT?”
“Because you’re suggesting a family before we’ve even survived a semester together!”
Enid waved that off with a little shrug. “I’m just saying… we just parented Pugsley together and we were amazing at it.”

Wednesday gave her a flat look. “That is my brother. And he is only one year and some months younger than us.”
Enid ignored her completely, grinning. “How many kids do you want with me? I think, like, eight would be fun. But honestly anything you say is fine, babe.”
Wednesday’s ears went pink. “Enid.” Her voice cracked ever so slightly. “I believe that’s not a matter we should discuss yet.”

“Come onnn,” Enid wheedled, bumping her shoulder. “How many do you think we should have? Just hypothetically.”
Wednesday stared at her in silence like she was facing an executioner, sighing.
“…Two,” she muttered.

Enid lit up like Christmas. “TWO?! You’ve actually thought about this!”
“I have not.” Wednesday said quickly, scandalized. “That number was forced out of me under duress.”
Enid giggled, collapsing back against the pillows. “Mhm, sure. Whatever you say, wifey.”

Wednesday, still pink, climbed stiffly under the covers. “…Eight is a grotesque number.”
“Fine, we’ll compromise,” Enid whispered, grinning in the dark. “Seven.”
Wednesday groaned into the pillow.

Enid rolled onto her side, propping her chin on her hand to study Wednesday’s flustered profile. “Okay, okay, sorry. But if we’re hypothetically having two kids… what would we name them?”
Wednesday froze. “…We are not doing this.”
“Totally are,” Enid chirped, poking her in the arm. “Come on, you’ve got, like, a million creepy gothic names stored up in that brain. Hit me with one.”

Wednesday exhaled like she was being tortured, then muttered, “…Mortem.”
Enid snorted. “You want to name our kid Mortem?”
“It’s dignified, latin, meaningful.”
“It sounds like a video game boss,” Enid teased. “Okay, fine, Mortem’s middle name. I’ll balance it with something cute. Like, say, Sunny.”
Wednesday whipped her head toward her, scandalized. “Sunny Mortem Addams-Sinclair?”

Enid was already giggling so hard she had to clutch Wednesday’s hoodie sleeve. “It’s PERFECT.”
Wednesday groaned and let her collapse against her shoulder. “You are insufferable.”
“And you love me,” Enid sing-songed, pressing her face into Wednesday’s neck.
There was a long pause, and then a very soft “…Unfortunately.”
Enid grinned wider and wriggled closer, tangling them together under the covers. Wednesday tried to remain stiff, but Enid wrapped both arms around her waist and refused to let go.
After a beat, Wednesday sighed, gave in, and rested her chin lightly on Enid’s hair.

Enid started to talk again, still giggling but now calmer. “…They’d be really lucky, you know.”
Wednesday’s voice was quieter. “To have a mother who names them after weather patterns?”
“To have you,” Enid whispered.
Silence. Then Wednesday’s hand, hesitant but steady, found Enid’s and laced their fingers together. “I suppose they would. But… they’d be even luckier to have you.”

Enid kissed her temple softly, then tucked them both under the blanket. “Two’s perfect,” she whispered.
“With better name choices.” Wednesday muttered.
“We’ll see,” Enid said, already drifting off with the happiest little grin.
Wednesday stayed awake a little longer, cheeks burning, before finally surrendering and holding her closer.
——————-
The next morning, Eugene was shoving socks into his duffel on the floor, Pugsley sprawled lazily on the couch with Pancake, pretending to help but mostly scrolling his phone.
In the kitchen, Wednesday was pouring tea with her usual precision when Enid leaned casually against the counter, sipping from her obnoxiously glittery ‘World’s Best Wife’ mug.

“So,” Enid said innocently, “do you want the two kids to have matching middle names? Or should we mix it up?”
The teapot clattered against the cup. “Enid.”
Enid grinned, stepping closer. “I’m just asking! We need to be consistent. You’re all about consistency.”
“I am all about silence.” Wednesday hissed, her cheeks warming.

Enid bumped her hip against Wednesday’s. “You’re cute when you panic, you know that? Last night you were totally blushing when you said two. Like, tomato-red blushing. It was adorable.”
“I was not-“ Wednesday froze as footsteps sounded from the living room.
Enid leaned in with a mischievous whisper. “Do you think they’d look more like you or me?”
“Enid!”

From the couch, Pugsley groaned loudly. “Ugh, get a room, you two!”
Eugene zipped his bag, looking up in confusion. “Wait, what did I miss?”
“Nothing.” Wednesday snapped, glaring daggers at Enid, who was now choking on her own giggles.

Pugsley shook his head, muttering, “Seriously, I come here for one weekend and suddenly they talk about babies and not me. Brutal.”

Enid set her mug down, beaming at Wednesday like she’d just won the world’s longest chess match. “Two,” she whispered smugly.
Wednesday’s blush deepened. “…I loathe you.”
Enid just kissed her cheek, completely unbothered. “Love you too, wifey.”
——————
They piled into Wednesday’s car just before noon. The ride was mostly quiet, until Enid leaned over, propped her chin on her hand, and stage-whispered, “Careful with the turn, babe. You don’t want to jostle our future hypothetical kids.”
Wednesday’s grip on the wheel whitened. “Enid.”
From the backseat, Pugsley groaned. “Oh my god. I can’t anymore.”
Eugene blinked, confused, but decided it was safer not to ask.

Lunch was at a small diner a block from the station. They slid into one booth: Eugene and Pugsley on one side, Enid and Wednesday on the other.
Conversation drifted from professors to Pancake’s latest escape attempt to Eugene’s train ride. At one point, Pugsley and Enid ended up arguing over the best milkshake flavor while Wednesday methodically dissected her sandwich with a knife and fork.

Eugene was laughing into his soda when Enid casually leaned her head against Wednesday’s shoulder. “See? They’re happy, we make a great team. Told you we’d be good at, you know, things.”
Wednesday set her fork down with surgical precision. “If you finish that sentence, I will leave you here.”
Pugsley rolled his eyes. “You two are exhausting.”
Enid grinned and stole a fry from Wednesday’s plate. “We’re just in love”

At the station, Eugene hefted his duffel out of the trunk. “Thanks for driving me, and lunch. And… uh, everything. I had so much fun!” He gave a small smile, then glanced at Pugsley. “Will you help me?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Pugsley said, picking one of Eugene’s bags. “Try to survive these two days without me” he said, accompanying his roommate towards the train.
“That won’t be hard, don’t worry”

Enid leaned against the car as the train whistle sounded in the distance. She glanced at Wednesday, eyes soft. “You know… you were really sweet with them.”
Wednesday looked straight ahead, expression unreadable, though her cheeks tinged pink. “…I was adequate.”
Enid slipped her hand into hers with a grin. “More than adequate.”
——————
The car purred along the road back from the station, Pancake snoring in the back with her head on Pugsley’s knee. Enid’s phone buzzed, and her face lit up.
“Ooooh, party tonight,” she said, turning the screen toward Wednesday. “Yoko just texted me. Off-campus, everyone’s going. We should totally go!”
From the back, Pugsley sat bolt upright. “Yes!”
Wednesday didn’t take her eyes off the road. “Absolutely not.”

Enid immediately leaned forward, clutching Wednesday’s arm dramatically. “C’mon, Weds, it’ll be fun. You love studying people, right? A party is just… a giant social experiment. For science!”
Pugsley chimed in, practically bouncing in his seat. “I’ll even behave. No firecrackers, no stink bombs, no slipping stuff into the punch.”
“Why so specific?” Wednesday muttered.
“Because I thought about all of it already,” Pugsley said, grinning.

Enid giggled, then softened her voice. “Seriously, though. You can stand in the corner with your arms crossed and look terrifying, and everyone will respect you. It’s literally your element.”
Wednesday’s knuckles tightened on the wheel. “My element is solitude.”
Enid squeezed her hand gently. “Please? For your loving wife? If it sucks, we can leave early. Pinky swear.”

The silence stretched, heavy.
Finally, Wednesday sighed heavily. “I despise both of you.”
Enid and Pugsley exchanged a victorious high five across the seats.
“So that’s a yes?” Enid beamed.
“…I will drive you there,” Wednesday said, voice low and grim.
“And then stay with us the whole time and we’ll be a happy family! Yay!” Enid screamed, hugging Wednesday’s arm.
——————
Enid practically sprinted into their room as soon as they got home, Pancake trotting after her. “Okay, outfits for the party!“
Wednesday stood in the doorway like she was attending a funeral for her own patience. “It would be less painful to throw myself into traffic.”
“Drama queen,” Enid sing-songed, already tossing half her closet onto the bed. (Wednesday said it looked like a rainbow explosion)

From outside the room, Pugsley yelled, “Do I get clothes too?”
One second later, he appeared in the doorway, scowling, holding up a wrinkled T-shirt with a skull that had cartoon googly eyes. “‘Cause I was gonna wear this.”
Enid slapped a hand over her face. “Oh my god. Not if you wanna get let in.” She shoved something Ajax had left at her house long time ago into his arms. “Go. Try. Now.”
“I feel like you just put me in witness protection,” Pugsley grumbled, but shuffled off anyway.

“You still have your ex’s clothes… unbelievable.” Wednesday said, titling her head, arms crossed.
“Come on, Weds. He’s gay, and I’m married to you” Enid said, then turned back to Wednesday, eyes shining with mischief. “And you shouldn’t be worried about that right now. We have to figure out what you’re gonna wear!”
That being said, she flung open Wednesday’s side of the closet with the energy of a stylist on a deadline, ready to mix her clothes with Wednesday’s. “Okay, ground rules: no full funeral attire, no turtlenecks that scream tax audit, and for once in your life… no weapon harnesses.”

Wednesday, perched on the edge of the bed, narrowed her eyes. “I see. So you intend to strip me of my entire identity.”
Enid grinned. “Nooo, just… remix it! You can still be scary and hot, just in a party way.”

She held up a fitted black top with subtle mesh sleeves. “Option one: goth CEO who came to shut down the club but got distracted by the music.”
Wednesday slipped it on, glanced at the mirror, and said flatly, “I look like a widow on business casual Friday.”
Enid squealed. “Exactly!”
But Wednesday was already peeling it off. “No.”

Enid rifled deeper and pulled out an elegant black tank top. “Okay, okay. Option two: mysterious rockstar girlfriend who definitely writes poetry about blood.”
Wednesday raised an eyebrow but tried it. Her arms crossed immediately. “…This one lacks sleeves. My arms feel… exposed.”
“Your arms look amazing,” Enid said shamelessly, circling her like a predator in reverse. “Like, criminally illegal amazing.”
Wednesday went pink and yanked it off. “Denied.”

Enid groaned dramatically, then lit up and grabbed a black button-up with silver linings shirt and dark jeans. “Option three! Brooding artist who accidentally reinvented gothic culture.”
Wednesday put it on, adjusted the collar, and glanced at the mirror. She paused. “…Acceptable.”
Enid clasped her hands like she was about to cry. “See? Perfection! That’s my wife. Goth menace, campus heartbreaker, absolute snack.”
Wednesday shot her a sideways look. “…Snack?”
“Full course meal,” Enid corrected instantly, grinning ear to ear.
Wednesday muttered, “Regrettable,” but didn’t change out of the outfit.

Enid bounced over, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Wait wait wait, idea! We should totally… match. Like, not exactly match, but subtle vibes. You know, complementary wives.”
Wednesday froze mid-adjustment of her black button-up. “…Subtle wives?”
“Yes! Think… you, me, same color palette, different personality explosions! I could wear something silver to match you. You know… shadow echoes!”

Wednesday stared at her. “…Shadow echoes?”
“Yeah!” Enid spun around, holding up a glittery dark vest. We could go full symmetry, you in your… classy broody button-up, me in this subtle sparkle vest - totally coordinated, totally devastating.”
Wednesday narrowed her eyes, arms crossed. “I do not need to be ‘devastating.’”
“You dooo,” Enid said, twirling. “Everyone will gasp. Imagine the entrance! People will whisper, like ‘Are they… cosmic soulmates?’”
Wednesday’s blush betrayed her horror. “I do not want cosmic soulmate whispers at a college party.”

“Pfft, you’ll thank me later,” Enid said, tugging a dark silver skirt over her leggings. “We’ll be… goth power duo,” Enid said with a grin that made Wednesday’s whole face heat.
Wednesday exhaled sharply, looking at her reflection in the mirror, then at Enid. “…Fine. We match. But I’m still not smiling.”
———————
The car pulled up outside a sprawling house, music rattling the windows. Enid leaned forward, practically buzzing. “We’re here! Are you ready to make an entrance?”
Wednesday’s gaze swept the crowd spilling onto the lawn. “…I regret every decision that led me to this moment.”
Inside, the house was a storm of student: dancing, shouting, spilling drinks. Someone was climbing onto a table, another group was in a pillow fight, and the smell of burnt popcorn lingered from the kitchen.

“Oh, look. Your weird friends are there.” Wednesday said, pointing at their friend group.
Enid smirked. “You look good though. Like… seriously, that shirt, those jeans…” She leaned closer. “…So intimidating it’s hot.”
Wednesday’s lips quirked faintly. “If intimidation arouses you, then I’m actually perfect for you.”
Pugsley muttered from the corner, “Oh my god. I’ll never recover from what I just heard.”
“Shh, he’s just jealous,” Enid whispered, nudging Wednesday. “Ignore him.”

They stepped further in, and the friend group noticed immediately. Ajax nearly tripped into them, sending a stack of cups flying. “Wenid! You guys look awesome!”
Luca raised an eyebrow at Wednesday. “How do you make jeans and a black shirt look that intense? I approve.”
Divina spotted them and squealed, flinging herself at Enid. “Stop being perfect! Seriously, you two!”

Enid tugged Wednesday out of the fray slightly, grinning. “We’re owning this. Together.”
Wednesday’s voice was low, precise. “…Coordinated domination.”
Pugsley peeked over the couch from the back corner. “…I need therapy.”
————————
The party had only just swallowed them up when a couple of students, already tipsy and curious, cornered Pugsley near the snack table.
“Hey, dude, I don’t think we’ve seen you around before. You new?” one asked, eyes narrowing.
“Yeah, like, who even are you?” another chimed in.
Pugsley shrugged, shoving a chip into his mouth. “I’m with them.” He jerked his thumb toward Wednesday and Enid across the room.
The strangers blinked. “Wait, them? What do you mean ‘with them’?”

Pugsley smirked like he’d been waiting for this moment all night. “Oh, didn’t they tell you? I’m their kid.”
There was a beat of silence before someone snorted into their drink. “…What?”
“Adopted, right?” Another one asked.
“Well, kinda” Pugsley said with absolute confidence. “Don’t I kinda look like the scary one?”
A guy squinted at him, then at Wednesday across the room. “…Holy crap. Yeah, same vibe. You’ve got that whole murder-eyes thing.”
“Right?” Pugsley beamed, as if it were the proudest achievement of his life. “Runs in the family.”

Word traveled fast in the party jungle. By the time Wednesday and Enid drifted toward the living room, half a dozen people were staring at them, whispering, glancing at Pugsley like he was the rare exhibit at a zoo.
One bold girl finally blurted, “So… you two are moms?”
Enid nearly choked on her drink. “I- wait, what?”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed into blades. “Explain.”

The girl gestured wildly at Pugsley, who was lounging on the couch like a king, nursing a soda. “He said he’s your kid and honestly, I see it! He’s got your face, the whole scary vibe-“
Another voice piped up, “Honestly? It checks out. Look at him. He’s totally her mini-me.”
Enid clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Oh my god, Wednesday. He’s your mini-me.”
Wednesday’s jaw twitched. “This is slander.”
Pugsley raised his soda in a toast. “It’s called commitment to the bit, Mother.”

A cheer actually went up around him, half the crowd found it hilarious, the other half seemed to be genuinely buying it.
“Wait, how old is he?” someone gasped.
“Fourteen” Pugsley said instantly.
“Fourteen?!” a guy yelled, scandalized. “What kind of college party lets someone’s kid in?”
Pugsley grinned. “A cool one.”
“HE’S NOT FOURTEEN.” Wednesday yelled.

Now people were coming up to Enid and Wednesday like they were celebrities.
“Respect. Bringing your son to a party, iconic.”
“Couple goals. Parenting goals.”
“Do you guys have, like, a babysitter discount code or something?”
Enid was wheezing with laughter at this point, half hiding behind Wednesday’s shoulder. “Weds, I can’t- he’s thriving right now.”
Wednesday’s voice dropped to a low hiss meant only for Enid. “If you laugh any harder, I will let them believe you carried him yourself.”
That just made Enid laugh harder. “That’s not-“

Across the room, Bianca, Yoko, and Divina had finally picked up the gossip. Bianca marched over, eyebrows raised to her hairline. “Okay. Someone explain why I just heard you two brought your child to a party?”
Pugsley sat up straighter, waving. “Hi, I’m Pugsley. Adopted son. Don’t worry, I’m super well-behaved.”
Yoko actually spat out her drink laughing.

“So wait,” some tall guy in a varsity jacket asked Enid, “how long have you two been, like… raising him?”
Enid, bright-eyed and mischievous, clasped her hands dramatically. “Oh, years. Honestly? Parenthood’s a journey. Very rewarding.”
Wednesday’s expression was a mask of pure suffering.
“Oh my god,” a girl squealed. “And you still go to college? Power couple!”

Pugsley leaned back, soaking in the attention like sunlight. “They balance it really well. Strict, but fair. Sometimes they make me eat vegetables.”
“Man, rough life.”
“Stay strong, little dude.”

Divina was doubled over laughing, while Yoko actually pulled out her phone and muttered, “I’m never letting you two live this down.”

“This is unhinged. You can’t just adopt a teenager who’s basically your age-“ Someone with a bit of common sense said.
“Oh, it’s legal,” Pugsley interrupted smoothly, sipping his soda. “We filed the paperwork, very official.”
“Paperwork?” Xavier repeated, staring.
“Yep.” Pugsley grinned at him with absolute conviction. “Adoption papers. Notarized.”
Someone from the crowd gasped again. “That’s so beautiful. You saved him from the system!”

Enid lost it, burying her face in Wednesday’s shoulder, shaking with laughter. “Weds, oh my god, people think we’re saints.”
“Saints?” Wednesday repeated, voice low and dark. “If they don’t stop harassing me with delusions, I will provide them a firsthand demonstration of martyrdom.”
But the crowd wasn’t fazed. Someone shoved a phone in her face, recording: “Say something for the camera about being young moms!”
Wednesday blinked into the lens like a creature who had just been threatened with daylight. Then, after a loaded beat, she intoned, “Parenthood is a prison from which there is no parole.”
The crowd cheered.

Pugsley raised his soda like it was champagne. “That’s my mom!”
The party roared.

Of course the inevitable happened: some girl with glittery eyeliner bounced over, phone held high.
“Okay okay, family pic! Moms in the middle, son in front. Say cheese!”
Enid, still wheezing with laughter, leaned into Wednesday, Pugsley hopped up immediately, positioning himself dead center with the confidence of a seasoned model.
Wednesday stood frozen. Every instinct screamed to flee or to burn the device. But then… she noticed the look on their faces. All these strangers. Believing, applauding, fawning. All because they were gullible enough to buy the most ludicrous story imaginable.
It was almost enjoyable to see all of that people believing that story, yhey almost made Ajax look intelligent.
Slowly, her lips twitched, just barely.

The crowd erupted. “Look at them! Perfect family!” “This is, like, iconic.” “Couple of the year!”
Enid blinked up at Wednesday and nearly short-circuited. “Wait. Was that - did you just smile for a picture?”
Wednesday’s eyes sharpened, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her, still faintly curved. “I find joy in very few things, Enid. Watching a roomful of imbeciles crown me domestic royalty happens to be one of them.”

Enid stared at her in delight. “You’re actually enjoying this.”
“Enjoying?” Wednesday corrected softly. “No. Weaponizing.”
Meanwhile, Pugsley was doing a victory lap. “That’s right, everybody! Clap for the coolest moms on campus!” He pointed dramatically at Wednesday and Enid like he was presenting royalty.
The party actually clapped. A chant started somewhere in the back: “Cool moms! Cool moms!”

Wednesday’s smirk deepened, dark and dangerous. She leaned toward Enid’s ear and murmured, “If they wish to idolize me, let them. Their worship will be their undoing.”
Enid melted instantly, hiding her face in her hands. “God, you’re insane. Hot, but insane.”
Pugsley raised his soda again like a toastmaster. “To my moms! Best parents ever!”
The crowd cheered, and Wednesday just stood there in the chaos, faint smirk still in place, radiating menace while Enid beamed at her like she’d just fallen in love all over again.
——————-
The crowd didn’t disperse. If anything, it thickened. Phones out, drinks in hand, people pressing closer like they were at a Q&A session.
“Okay but seriously,” someone asked, “how do you, like, do it? Balancing classes and a kid?”
Enid, positively glowing, clasped her hands together. “Love and patience.”
Wednesday, deadpan: “Tyranny and discipline.”
Gasps of awe. Several people nodded like she’d just said something profound.

Another voice piped up. “What about screen time? Like, do you let him use his phone whenever?”
Wednesday’s gaze slid toward Pugsley, who was still basking in attention. “Ideally, he’d be chained in the basement with a book and a candle. But apparently society frowns on such methods.”
The crowd laughed, assuming she was joking. Enid grinned nervously. “Yeah, uh- she’s kidding. Sort of.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Wow,” someone whispered. “Tough love.”

Divina was actually crying from laughter at this point. Ajax was wheezing, clutching Yoko’s shoulder for balance. Bianca muttered, “This has gone way past unhinged,” but even she looked slightly impressed by how fully people were buying it.
Then came the kicker:
A girl leaned in. “So like… do you want another kid?”
Wednesday’s smirk returned, slow and sharp. “Yes, and I’d like to call them Mortality. Or Despair.”
Enid gave her a look of surprise.
“Holy crap,” the girl gasped, typing it into her notes app. “That’s so poetic.”
Enid actually slapped her forehead. “Oh my god.”
——————-
About an hour later, they piled into the car. Enid was buzzing, Pugsley was grinning ear to ear, and Wednesday…
Wednesday slid into the driver’s seat, folded her hands in her lap, then out of nowhere burst into laughter.
Not a chuckle. Not her usual razor-edged smirk. Full-on, sharp, uncontrollable laughter.

Enid froze mid–seatbelt click. “Uh… Weds?”
Pugsley leaned forward from the backseat, wide-eyed. “Is she… dying? Did we break her?”
Wednesday doubled over, pressing a hand to her stomach, shoulders shaking. “Those fools… they believed… every word,” she gasped between laughs. “Parenting advice! They asked me for parenting advice!“

“Are you… okay?” Enid tried, putting a hand on her shoulder.
Wednesday tried to straighten, but another wave of laughter hit her, dark and unstoppable. “They called me… a cool mom.”
She slammed a hand against the dashboard, still laughing, sharp and unhinged. “A cool mom!”
Enid covered her mouth, torn between shock and giggles. “Oh my god. I really think she’s broken.”
Pugsley leaned back, grinning wickedly. “Nah. She’s high on power. Look at her, she loved it.”

Wednesday whipped her head toward him, eyes gleaming, still laughing under her breath. “Of course I loved it. Watching a roomful of college students grovel for wisdom we fabricated on the spot? It was… exquisite.”
Enid blinked at her, then laughed too, shaking her head. “You’re insane. Like, actually insane. And it’s… kind of hot, I can’t lie.”
Pugsley groaned. “Gross. You two flirting while she’s going full evil villain? Can I get out of this car, please?”
Wednesday only smirked through her last ripples of laughter, wiping the corner of her eye with her thumb. “Absolutely not. You’re grounded.”
Pugsley’s jaw dropped. “…You don’t even own me!”
——————
During the ride home, Enid fidgeted with her seatbelt, glancing at Wednesday out of the corner of her eye. “You… looked really good tonight. Like, scary-good,” she said, smirking.
Wednesday’s hands rested on the steering wheel, but her eyes flicked toward Enid, sharp and assessing. “…I assume you mean my energy of impending doom?”
“Mhm. Definitely that. Also the whole… outfit thing. You make it look… dangerous in a way I might want to get close to,” Enid admitted, biting her lip.

Wednesday’s lips quirked, barely perceptible. “…I see. So, my outfit is… attractive because it inspires mild existential fear?”
“Yes! Exactly!” Enid grinned, leaning a little closer. “You’re… like a gothic action figure that somehow stole my heart.”
Wednesday tilted her head, studying her. “…I suppose one could say the same about you.”
Enid’s heart skipped. “Me?”
“Yes. The gray, the sparkle, the audacity of pairing black with… slight shimmer,” Wednesday said, voice low, deliberate. “It is… disarming. I find myself… observing it more than is reasonable.”
Enid’s cheeks warmed. “Ooooh, is that… flirting?”
Wednesday’s eyes flicked back to the road, lips twitching faintly. “…If you insist on calling it that. I would not call it that.”

Enid nudged her shoulder playfully. “Mm-hmm, yeah, totally not flirting. But I think I might… like it anyway.”
Wednesday hummed, one corner of her mouth lifting. “…Acknowledged. Continue enjoying my presence, then.”
Enid grinned, leaning back, heart racing. “Oh, I definitely will.”

“Eww, please stop. I don’t need front row seats to this disgusting rom-com” Pugsley said from the backseat, rolling his eyes.
“Where do you think you came from?”
——————-
The knock on the door they heard the next morning was way too cheerful for Wednesday’s liking. Enid skipped over to answer it, Pancake at her heels, while Wednesday stayed rooted in the kitchen with her coffee.
The moment the door swung open, Enid’s jaw dropped.
There stood the entire friend group, arms loaded with obnoxiously pastel bags, sparkly balloons, and one tray of cupcakes iced in baby blue.

“Surprise!” Ajax grinned, shoving a balloon into Enid’s hand. “Congrats on the kid!”
Enid choked. “Oh my god. You guys did not!”
“Baby shower!” Yoko announced, carrying in a box wrapped in rainbow paper. “For our favorite moms.”
Enid burst into laughter, while Wednesday finally appeared in the doorway, dark eyes narrowing at the absurd display. “Absolutely not.”

Bianca smirked. “Oh, come on. You have to admit this is funny. Your little brother scams the entire party, and now you’re stuck with a baby shower. It’s kinda… poetic.”
Behind them, Pugsley wandered into the hall, still eating cereal. He looked around at the pastel chaos, then grinned like the devil. “Yes. Excellent. Carry on.”

“Sit, sit!” Divina said, dragging Wednesday and Enid toward the couch. “We brought gifts.”
Xavier plopped a badly wrapped box on Enid’s lap. She tore it open and dissolved into giggles. “Are these… baby sunglasses?”
“Yep,” Xavier said proudly. “Coolest baby on campus.”
Yoko handed over tiny black booties embroidered with skulls. “For your gothling.”
Ajax passed a Nerf gun. “Gotta start ‘em young.”
Luca, trying not to laugh, offered up a pastel blue blanket. “I told Jordan and he made me bring this. I may never recover.”
“You have a funny boyfriend” Ajax told him, laughing.

Wednesday sat there, surrounded by baby balloons and frosting-smeared cupcakes, staring daggers at everyone, until a twitch at the corner of her mouth betrayed her. She was smiling.
Enid caught it instantly, nudged her, and whispered, “Admit it. Best baby shower ever.”
“…This is the most idiotic thing I’ve ever endured,” Wednesday muttered. But her smirk didn’t fade.

The living room looked like a cotton candy machine had exploded. Streamers in pastel pink and baby blue hung lopsided across the walls, balloons bobbed at everyone’s ankles, and Yoko had actually put a “Welcome Baby” banner, next to the “Just married” and the “Just married-married” ones.

Enid was living for it, half-covered in glitter from opening another round of ridiculous presents. Wednesday sat stiffly on the couch, arms crossed, glaring at a plate of cupcakes as if they’d personally offended her.
“Okay, picture time!” Divina announced, pulling out her phone. “Get the happy parents together!”
Enid immediately tugged Wednesday close, practically climbing into her lap for the photo. Wednesday tried to glare, but the camera flash went off and in the photo, you could clearly see the faintest blush at her cheeks.

Yoko leaned over, smirking. “That one’s going on the group chat. Maybe the bulletin board, too.”
Meanwhile, Ajax had somehow convinced Pugsley to put a big blue bib around his neck, complete with a pacifier dangling from a ribbon. He posed in front of Wednesday and Enid dramatically, Pancake licking his ear, while Yoko snapped twenty pictures at once.
“Best baby ever.” Ajax declared.
Pugsley, pacifier in his mouth, just gave a thumbs-up.

Enid was crying with laughter, hugging her stomach. “Stoppp, I can’t breathe!”
“Games!” Yoko clapped her hands together, shoving two rolls of toilet paper into their laps. “We’re doing the diaper challenge. Whoever wraps Pancake the fastest wins.”
Pancake barked once, very confused, as Enid immediately went for the roll. Wednesday just stared. “This has gone far beyond parody.”

But when Enid started wrapping Pancake into a toilet paper cocoon, smiling up at her with stars in her eyes, Wednesday gave in and started helping. The dog ended up waddling around the living room like a mummy. Everyone cheered.
Bianca smirked again, snapping another photo. “Gonna frame this for the kid one day.”
——————
Later, Luca - self-appointed game master - announced:
“Couples challenge! First team: Enid and Wednesday. Second team: Yoko and Divina. You each get a ‘baby.’ Three tasks: diaper change, bottle, and getting it to sleep. Fastest team wins..”

Enid clasped her hands together, eyes sparkling. “Omg, finally! Wife, we were born for this.”
Wednesday eyed the doll like it was diseased. “Born for homicide, you mean.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Enid whispered dramatically to their doll. “Mommy loves you.”

Task one: diaper.
Luca shouted “Go!” and chaos exploded.
Yoko tried to duct-tape the diaper shut while Divina cried-laughed at her. Enid wrestled with the Velcro tabs until Wednesday yanked the doll into her lap, coolly fixing it in seconds with precision folds.
“Done.” she said flatly.
“Holy crap, goth mom wins round one,” Ajax said, nearly spilling his drink.
Enid squealed, hugging Wednesday’s arm. “See?? You’re a natural!”

Task two: bottle.
Divina gently tilted theirs like it was porcelain. Yoko kept joking “chug, chug, chug!” Enid was cooing like crazy but somehow holding the doll upside down.
Wednesday silently took it from her, positioned the bottle perfectly, and held it steady until Luca declared: “Fed and burped. Done!”
Enid beamed at Wednesday like she’d just cured a disease. Wednesday’s ears turned faintly pink.

Final task: getting the baby to sleep (to interrupt its creepy crying sound)
Everyone leaned in.
Divina hummed a lullaby, Yoko rocked the doll so hard the head bobbed like a bobblehead. Laughter filled the room.
Enid swayed gently, humming off-key. “Shhh, night-night, baby.”
Wednesday froze, then took the doll from her arms. She tucked it under the blanket, smoothed its stiff hair, and simply placed her palm over its chest. The doll stopped crying.
Enid leaned in and put a hand on Wednesday’s arm and for once, Wednesday’s expression wasn’t sharp, it was soft. Almost thoughtful.

The room went weirdly quiet, until Divina finally broke in: “Okay, I hate to say it, but… they win.”
Enid turned to Wednesday, glowing. “See? We’re like, the dream team. Admit it.”
Wednesday didn’t look at her, but her mouth curved. “If I were ever to suffer the torment of parenthood, I suppose enduring it with you would be… tolerable.”
Enid gasped, throwing her arms around her. “You sooo love me.”
From the couch, Pugsley mumbled, “Guess somehow I’m getting a fake sibling.”
Everyone burst out laughing again, but Wednesday’s hand stayed resting against Enid’s back, warm and steady.
——————
After the games, Ajax handed over printer-paper awards with glitter glue writing:
• “World’s Best Goth Mom” (complete with a doodle of a skull and a pacifier)
• “World’s Best Rainbow Mom” (covered in too colourful stickers)
Enid squealed and held hers against her chest like it was an Oscar. “This is literally the best day of my life.”
Wednesday took hers with a perfectly straight face… but folded it carefully and tucked it into her book, as if it actually mattered.

Finally, everyone piled onto the couch for one last group picture. Pugsley sat proudly between his “moms,” sucking dramatically on the pacifier. Enid threw peace signs with both hands, Yoko and Divina leaned into the frame with their fake baby.
The camera clicked and for the briefest second, in all the noise and ridiculousness, Wednesday glanced sideways at Enid - who was laughing so hard her shoulders shook - and let herself imagine, just for a breath, that maybe one day that chaos wouldn’t just be a game, and that wouldn’t be too absurd or terrible.
———————-
The apartment still smelled faintly of frosting and cheap streamers by the time Enid declared, “Okay, movie night. Normal, fun, chill. Just us.”
Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “Your definition of normal has yet to align with any dictionary I respect.”
“Still happening,” Enid chirped, dragging a stack of blankets to the couch.
Pugsley perked up instantly. “Do we get snacks?”
“You are the snack monster,” Enid teased, tossing him a bag of popcorn. He ripped it open with the enthusiasm of a starving animal.

Enid tossed the last blanket onto the couch and patted the cushion beside her. “Okay, wifey. Come here. Cozy time.”
Wednesday moved toward her spot, prepared to sit, when suddenly Pugsley launched himself across the couch and landed right between them, popcorn bowl clutched triumphantly in his hands.
“Called it!” he announced, already shoving a handful in his mouth.
Both girls just froze, staring down at him.
“…You didn’t call it,” Enid said flatly. “You literally ambushed us.”
“That’s a strategy. Not my fault you were slow.” He leaned back against the cushions with the confidence of a man who owned the place.

Wednesday’s eye twitched. “You’ve made a very dangerous mistake. Move.” She ordered.
“Nope,” Pugsley said through a mouthful, grinning. “I’m perfectly comfortable.”
The movie started. Enid had picked a romantic comedy, of course. Every ridiculous line earned either an eye-roll from Wednesday or loud commentary from Pugsley.
“Oh my god, that’s the worst acting I’ve ever seen,” he cackled, chewing popcorn out loud.
“She’s falling for him? Ew, he looks like he smells like soup.”
“Wednesday, did you learn to flirt from this movie? ‘Cause that’s tragic”

Wednesday turned her head slowly. “If you don’t stop speaking, I will ensure you never speak again.”
He snorted, shoving more popcorn into his mouth.
Enid laughed, but when she glanced past Pugsley, her eyes caught Wednesday’s. The TV’s glow flickered against her face, and for a second, Wednesday didn’t just look annoyed, she looked… tense. Like she was holding herself too still.

“Are you okay?” Enid whispered.
Wednesday’s gaze flicked from Enid’s shoulder to the space separating them (Pugsley). Then, very flatly: “No. I am being denied what I want.”
Enid tilted her head, confused. “What do you want?”
Wednesday’s expression didn’t change, but her voice dropped almost imperceptibly. “Proximity.”
Enid’s cheeks warmed, and she bit down on a smile. “You mean cuddling.”
From the middle, Pugsley sat up. “WAIT, did you just say you want to cuddle? You?”

Wednesday grabbed the blanket, threw it over his head, and shoved him sideways. “You heard nothing.”
Muffled under the fabric, he howled with laughter. “You’re touch-starved! You’re craving your wife’s touch! This is amazing!”
“Enid,” Wednesday said darkly, “hold me back before I make him part of the carpet.”

Enid was laughing too hard to be helpful, but when Pugsley finally conked out midway through the movie, slumped sideways with the blanket tangled around him, she reached across and laced her fingers with Wednesday’s.
Wednesday leaned closer, her shoulders loosening for the first time all night.
Enid whispered, “Better?”
Wednesday’s lips barely curved, but the softness in her eyes was answer enough.

Chapter Text

Enid had insisted it would be fine.
“Just a couple of my classmates, Weds. We’ll crank out this project in, like, two hours tops. Please?”
Two hours tops had turned into several unknown people in their living room, half-eaten pizza boxes on the coffee table, and Wednesday considering the various poisons she could soak into the upholstery later to erase the memory of their presence.
Her fountain pen hovered above her notebook, but every time she tried to complete a sentence, someone in Enid’s group laughed too loudly or dropped something sticky, adding a new note to what Wednesday thought as the symphony of incompetence.

One boy was lying across the couch scrolling TikTok, occasionally chiming in with, “Yeah, just put my name on whatever”, another girl had been talking for twenty straight minutes about “presentation vibes” without opening her laptop, while a third was doodling hearts in the margins of the project outline Enid had printed.
The fourth - her personal ‘favorite’ - had just asked if citations were “actually necessary in college.”
Enid, meanwhile, looked like she was holding together the fabric of reality with sheer glitter glue.
“Okay, guys,” she said with a smile that had an edge of panic, “if someone could start the intro slide, that would be amazing!”

“Eh, you’re better at that,” TikTok Couch Guy interrupted. “Just do it, you’re good with words.”
Wednesday’s pen stopped moving. Slowly, deliberately, until she set it down on the desk.
She didn’t turn yet. Not until Over-Talker added brightly, “Yeah, Enid, you’ll make it cute. We’ll just, like… vibe while you put it together.”
Enid’s smile flickered, her shoulders tensed and her eyes stopped shining.
That was when Wednesday rose from her chair.

The room went noticeably quieter as she crossed the living room floor and she stopped behind Enid’s chair, hands folded neatly in front of her, expression unreadable.
“If I understand correctly,” Wednesday said, voice calm and precise, “the four of you intend to lounge in my house, consume my food, and siphon the marrow from my wife’s soul while she completes an assignment you were all supposed to do together?”
Nobody breathed.
She tilted her head slightly, black braids falling forward. “Allow me to clarify: if you continue exploiting her kindness, the only credits you’ll receive this semester will be etched onto your gravestones, thanks to me.”

Silence. Then TikTok Couch Guy sat up so fast he nearly dropped his phone.
“Uh- no, no, we’re totally helping! Right, guys?”
Over-Talker’s smile was suddenly brittle. “Yeah, obviously, totally splitting the work.” She scrambled for her laptop, which hadn’t been opened all night.
Doodler Boy erased the hearts on Enid’s outline like there was no tomorrow, after Wednesday pointed to him and said “You. No hearts.”, and Citations Girl, who had asked if sources even mattered, started googling furiously.

Enid blinked at the sudden productivity, then looked up at Wednesday.
Her wife was standing there like she’d just brokered a blood pact.
“Thanks…?” Enid whispered, voice wobbling between grateful and mortified.
Wednesday gave a single, grave nod. “They will contribute or perish, you may continue.”
For about fifteen minutes, it almost worked: the group actually typed things and produced real sentences on the slides, which led Enid to be cautiously optimistic.
Then Pancake barreled into the room, squeaky toy in her mouth, tail wagging like a weapon and launching herself onto the coffee table, scattering papers and spilling what was left of the soda.

“Pancake, no!” Enid yelped, diving after her, while the group groaned.
“This dog is such a distraction,” Doodler Boy muttered, wiping soda off his sleeve.
“Seriously, what even is the name Pancake? That’s so stupid.”
But they hadn’t realised who was still standing next to them; the air went cold, and every head turned toward Wednesday.
She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t even blink. “My wife named her. And you will shut up now, because she let you all in her house, bought you food and begged me to welcome you here trusting the fact that you were at least tolerable people to work with; instead, you’re behaving like a bunch of middle schoolers who have the emotional intelligence of a taco by trying to exploit her and now insulting her name choices for our dog who, by the way, can’t be a distraction if not even one of you is focused on the project.”

Citations Girl dropped her pen, Over-Talker actually whimpered and Enid clutched Pancake to her chest like a teddy bear, cheeks pink. “And she’s not stupid, she’s perfect.”
Wednesday’s gaze softened only for Enid. “Precisely.”
The group, now properly terrified, bent over their laptops and typed so fast their fingers started to ache just seconds later.
Then, Over-Talker cleared her throat. “Sooo, uh, maybe we can start with communication theories? Like… that thing with… triangles?”
“That thing with triangles is geometry,” Wednesday said flatly from her desk.

Enid shot her a ‘please’ look. “We can work with triangles later, okay? Just… focus right now.”
For about three seconds, the room sounded almost studious again, but then Pancake struck for the second time: she darted under the coffee table, grabbed Doodler Boy’s backpack strap in her teeth, and dragged it across the floor like a hunting prize.
“HEY!” Doodler Boy shouted, lunging after her. Pancake growled happily and zoomed in circles, tail knocking over a stack of index cards.
“Sorry, sorry!” Enid rushed after them, nearly tripping over the rug. “She just wants to play”
“She just ruined my notes!” he snapped.
Wednesday’s chair scraped against the floor as she stood.
“I’ve seen cadavers react with more grace under pressure.”

For some reason, Doodler Boy dropped the backpack like it had burned him.
Enid hugged Pancake tight, rubbing her ears. “She didn’t mean it! She’s just… spirited.”
“She’s a bit dangerous,” Complainer Girl muttered. “Honestly, I don’t get how you even live with her”
The glare Wednesday turned on her could’ve withered crops. “She only behaves like that when there are unwelcome guests in our house, I trained her.”
Complainer Girl’s face drained of color. “I- uh, love dogs. Huge fan. Go, Pancake.” She gave a weak thumbs-up.
Enid tried not to laugh, Pancake barked triumphantly.

The group made a pathetic attempt at working for another half-hour while Enid practically coached them through every bullet point, her smile getting tighter with each interruption.
Meanwhile, Wednesday sat back at her desk, black pen scratching across paper, but her eyes kept flicking toward her wife.
The little furrow between Enid’s brows, the way she chewed her lip when nobody volunteered to do their part, how her shoulders slumped when she had to pick up the slack again.
Wednesday’s essay was suffering, but not as much as Enid was.

Finally, Over-Talker groaned. “Can we, like, call it for today? This is exhausting.”
Enid’s hands stilled on her keyboard. “We’ve barely finished the intro.”
“Yeah, but we can wing it,” TikTok Couch Guy said. “Presentations are, like, vibes.”
Wednesday closed her notebook with a snap.

“Vibes,” she echoed, voice flat. “You believe an academic presentation - graded, with weight toward your final mark - can be dismissed as ‘vibes.’”
Wednesday moved forward and stopped in the middle of the room, directly under the light, her shadow stretched long and skeletal.
“Allow me to enlighten you. What I have witnessed today is a stunning display of collective incompetence. You-“ she stabbed a finger toward Couch Guy, “-are a parasite who contributes nothing but screen glare.”
He wilted instantly.
“You-“ she turned to Over-Talker, “-have spoken twenty-seven times and not once produced a thought of value.”
Over-Talker’s mouth opened, Wednesday raised a hand. “Don’t. That will make it twenty-eight.”

Doodler Boy tried to sink into the couch cushions but she spun toward him.
“Your notes resemble the scribbles of an unsupervised toddler. You will be lucky if your degree is not revoked for crimes against stationery. And you will not draw hearts on Enid’s notes again.”
He nodded nervously and finally, she faced Complainer Girl, whose knuckles were white around her pen.
“And you- insulting my dog, my wife, and my patience in one breath. If you so much as look at them wrong again, I will mount your tongue in a jar and label it ‘Specimen: Failure’.”

The room was silent except for Pancake, who gave a proud little bark, clearly approving of her defense.
Enid’s eyes were wide, pink creeping across her cheeks. She looked mortified… but also a bit smiley after all.
Wednesday smoothed her skirt. “Now, you will each complete your portion of the project at your own places, or I will personally email your professor detailing your inadequacies. And rest assured, my descriptions will haunt your transcripts for eternity.”
The four of them scrambled for their belongings like the house was on fire.
“Yeah, totally, no problem, I’ll do my slides today!”
“Same, same! Got it!”
“Notes are my passion, honestly. My notes, specifically, not Enid’s.”
“Love the dog. So cute. Pancake forever.”
The door slammed behind them.

Silence finally fell: just the rain, just Enid, hugging Pancake.
And Wednesday, staring at her like she hadn’t just psychologically dismembered four college students in their living room.
Finally, Enid exhaled like she’d been holding her breath the whole time.
She looked around the wrecked living room: pizza boxes, spilled soda, scattered notes. Then back at Wednesday, who was standing perfectly composed.

“Okay,” Enid said slowly, voice high and thin. “So. What just happened?”
Wednesday tilted her head. “You’re welcome.”
Enid blinked. “Welcome? You basically told a bunch of people they weren’t welcome here”
“And yet they deserved far worse,” Wednesday replied evenly.
Pancake barked in solidarity, Enid snorted despite herself, pressing her face into her dog’s fur to hide the smile.
“Weds,” she peeked up again, cheeks pink. “You can’t just… traumatize my classmates because they’re annoying.”
“I didn’t traumatize them,” Wednesday said. “I merely provided incentive. It’s not my fault if they’re too weak to handle honesty.”

Enid’s lips twitched. She wanted to be annoyed, but- ugh. The way Wednesday had gone full protective mode, all to defend her and Pancake? Her chest felt like confetti.
“You’re so…” Enid gestured vaguely, words failing her. “…you.”
“I guess so.”
Enid groaned, flopping onto the couch with Pancake. “God, I can’t even stay mad at you. You were terrifying. And kinda cute. Which is confusing, because you literally just murdered my group with words.”
She said, burying her face in a pillow to scream.

When Enid peeked up from the pillow, hair sticking everywhere, she sighed.
“Okay, I guess it’s time to say thank you.”
Wednesday blinked, clearly surprised. “Really?”
“You sticked up for me, and Pancake. You were just a bit… intense, that’s all, but I’m very glad you were there to do it.” She scratched behind the dog’s ears, voice going a little softer. “They weren’t listening to me, and I was this close to just… doing the whole project myself. You didn’t have to get involved, but you did.”
Wednesday regarded her for a long moment, unreadable as ever. Then, finally:
“They were insufferable, but your distress was worse.”

Enid’s chest squeezed and she smiled despite the exhaustion, cheeks heating.
“God, you make that sound like you made the most romantic threat ever.”
Wednesday didn’t smile, but her eyes flicked toward her, sharp and soft at the same time.
“You should never have to beg for respect. Not from them, not from anyone.”

The room was finally quiet except for the rain and the faint scratch of Wednesday’s pen as she picked her essay back up.
For a moment, Enid just watched her: the way she hunched over the page, braid falling forward, so precise with every word. It was like all of that chaos from earlier didn’t touch her at all.
Except… it had. Enid could see it now, in the way Wednesday’s shoulders weren’t quite as stiff, in the way her pen paused whenever she glanced over like she was checking Enid was still okay.

Enid smiled. “You know,” she said softly, “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone go that feral for me before.”
Wednesday didn’t look up. “Someone’s gotta do it. And I consider that a privilege.”
Her heart squeezed again. Ugh, why did she have to sound like that? So calm, so matter-of-fact, like she’d just said ‘pass the salt’ instead of ‘I’ll go to war for you’.
Enid bit her lip again; cheeks warming. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re scary.”
That earned her the faintest twitch at the corner of Wednesday’s mouth, a non-smile.
Enid melted, despite the lack of affection Wednesday was showing her. “God, I love you.”
“I know.” Wednesday dipped her pen again, as if nothing had happened.

Enid groaned, throwing her head back against the couch. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” Wednesday murmured, still writing, “you continue to insist on keeping me. There has to be something strange between us.”
Enid sat up suddenly, Pancake grumbling at the jostle.
“Okay, but, like… you say that, but you didn’t even answer me yesterday when I asked if you’d still love me if I was a Labubu.”
Wednesday’s pen froze mid-sentence. “…A what.”
“A Labubu!” Enid waved her arms. “Those little goblin plushie things with big eyes? I sent you, like, seven TikToks.”
“I assumed those were threats.”
Enid gasped. “They were tests! Of your devotion! And you failed!”

Wednesday pinched the bridge of her nose. “Your mind is an unsolvable labyrinth.”
“Oh, and don’t think I didn’t notice,” Enid went on, winding herself up. “You didn’t give me attention for thirty-two minutes straight this morning. Thirty-two! I timed it. I felt like I was actually passing out.”
Wednesday turned, arching a brow. “…You were probably asleep during twenty of those minutes.”
“That’s not the point!” Enid flopped dramatically into the pillow, muffling her voice. “I could’ve withered away. You wouldn’t even know.”
Wednesday exhaled slowly through her nose, clearly clinging to her composure. “You are alive, breathing, and unfortunately still speaking. Evidently I did know.”

“Don’t make me start. You didn’t even look at me when I walked into the room yesterday, I had a whole new hair clip on and everything, and you didn’t notice it! You let Pancake nap on your lap for like an hour but when I asked if I could sit there, you said you were writing. Pancake doesn’t even read your drafts! Do you know how hard it is to not cuddle you when you sit there looking like a dramatic little crow? You keep typing and typing and I’m just sitting there like a sad golden retriever. I asked if you still loved me, and you didn’t answer. That’s been eating me alive for two days, and don’t even try to tell me you had said it to me like five minutes earlier because that doesn’t matter, you know I need reminders. Oh, and we’ve been married for months and you still haven’t posted me on Instagram once. Am I some kind of secret wife?! Also, last week you spent forty-five minutes describing the death scene of some 19th-century poet to me but when I told you about my new nail polish you just said, ‘acceptable.’
Last night I literally had a dream you left me for a pumpkin spice latte and when I told you about it you said, ‘Tragic.’
Honestly, you keep underestimating how much affection I need. I am like… ninety percent love language, Wednesday.”

Enid’s voice cracked on the last complaint, her eyes glossy, chest rising and falling like she’d just run a marathon. The living room went quiet except for Pancake’s tail thumping the couch in some misplaced encouragement. Enid started crying, heavier than ever.
Wednesday just stared at her, pale and frozen. Her mouth opened slightly.
“I…” she started, then stopped. For once in her life, words failed her.
She took a shaky breath. “I…” Her voice dropped, softer, almost broken. “I didn’t mean-“
But she cut herself off again, throat tightening. She didn’t know what to do with the sudden weight in her chest, didn’t know how to reach her wife without making it worse.

Enid sat up again, cheeks puffed, eyes shining a little too much. “See, this is what I mean! You brush it off, like my feelings aren’t… like they’re just silly. But it’s not just about Labubus or nail polish. Sometimes I feel like you’d rather be with your books than with me. I feel like I’m invisible to you.”
Her voice cracked again. The words sat heavy between them, heavier than all the weird complaints that came before.
Wednesday went still.

Enid blinked, wiping at her eyes, then shook her head like she couldn’t bear it. She stood up, scooped up Pancake’s leash, clipped it on, and stood.
“Come on, Pancake. Let’s get some air. I just need… some space.”
The door shut behind her, leaving Wednesday frozen on the couch, fountain pen still in hand, one single ink drop bleeding onto the page.
She started at the empty spot where Enid had been, and before she could stop herself, her vision blurred. One tear fell onto the notebook, smudging the sentence she hadn’t finished, her hands were shaking as she whispered once more, too late and too quiet for Enid to hear:
“I…”

The silence after Enid left was suffocating, and the words on Wednesday’s essay were ruined - blurred beyond recognition - but she couldn’t bring herself to turn the page.
Her chest ached in a way she wasn’t used to. Sharp, hot, impossible to ignore. She replayed Enid’s words, every ridiculous complaint wrapped around the one that had cut deep: ‘Sometimes I feel like you’d rather be with your books than with me. I feel like I’m invisible to you.’

It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. And yet… hadn’t she given Enid reason to think it was?
She remembered the way her wife’s eyes had filled, the way her voice had broken, and for the first time in a long time, Wednesday cried.
One tear, then another. She pressed her sleeve to her face, furious at her weakness, but it didn’t stop. The house felt unbearably empty without Enid’s constant hum of energy.
A sound cut through the defeating silence: a steady patter against the windows.
Wednesday looked up: rain. Heavy, merciless, already drumming on the roof.
Her pulse spiked: Enid was out there, without an umbrella.

Wednesday shoved back her chair so fast it toppled. She didn’t even bother changing, still in the embarrassing pajama set Enid had bought her: a black shirt with a tiny pink bat in the middle, that matched her pink shirt with the little black bat. She only grabbed the umbrella by the door and bolted into the storm.
The wind clawed at her braids, rain soaking her hair in seconds, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was Enid: Finding her, getting her out of the downpour, not letting her walk away in the pouring rain thinking she wasn’t loved.

Enid was halfway down the block, hood pulled up, Pancake a soggy ball of fur at the end of the leash. She kicked at a puddle, muttering to herself.
“Thirty-two minutes. Thirty-two! I could’ve died of neglect.”
Pancake sneezed in agreement.
That’s when footsteps splashed behind her. Fast, urgent.
“Enid!”
She turned, startled, and there was Wednesday, sprinting down the sidewalk in the ridiculous pink bat pajamas, umbrella in one hand, hair totally wet and messy.

Enid blinked. “Weds… what are you-“
Wednesday stopped in front of her, chest heaving, immediately popping the umbrella over both of them. “You’re soaked.”
Enid’s eyes went wide. “Wait… have you been-“ She leaned closer. Rain streaked down Wednesday’s cheeks, but there were traces of something else: redness around her eyes, a wetness that wasn’t just the storm.
“Were you… crying?”
Wednesday stiffened. “No.”
“You were!” Enid gasped, stunned. “Oh my god. You crying, in this pastel pajamas. I must be hallucinating.”
Her laugh caught halfway to a sob.

Wednesday’s voice cracked despite her best effort. “I wasn’t weeping. It was… moisture. From… despair.”
Enid’s chest squeezed. She reached out, touching her wrist. “Weds…”
Wednesday swallowed hard, the words falling out sharper than she meant. “I am sorry. I should not have dismissed you. I thought your… complaints were trivial, but they weren’t. I didn’t realize how deeply you…” Her voice faltered. “How deeply I was hurting you.”
Enid’s throat tightened. The rain pattered against the umbrella, steady and loud.

Wednesday took a shaky breath. “You are not second to my writing, or my studies, or anything. You are-“ She cut herself off, jaw trembling. “I would sooner rot in disgrace than live one day without you. Failure is tolerable, your absence is not.”
Enid’s lips parted. She stood frozen, water dripping from her lashes, heart crashing against her ribs.
“…That’s…” Her voice cracked. “…really dramatic. And really hot.”
Wednesday exhaled shakily, almost a laugh. “That’s all you heard?”

Enid didn’t answer with words. She surged forward, threw her arms around her, and kissed her right there under the umbrella, rain pouring around them. Pancake barked, wagging her soggy tail like she’d been waiting for this all along.
“Look at you, Wednesday Addams. Kissing your wife under the rain, like the most cliche thing in the most cliche romantic movie. What happened to you?” Enid said then.
“I will tolerate you making fun of me, but you missed a piece of my last name. It’s Addams-Sinclair.”
Enid’s heart melted, and she leaned closer again.
“You’re right, I’m sorry Mrs. Addams-Sinclair” she said, just before kissing her again.

They started back slowly, shoes squelching in puddles, Pancake trotting proudly ahead like she’d orchestrated the whole thing. The umbrella tilted awkwardly between them, but neither cared.
Enid kept sneaking glances at Wednesday, her heart refusing to calm down. The pastel bat pajamas clung damply to her, and the braids were dripping, but her hand was firm in Enid’s.
Enid squeezed it. “You know… you running after me like that? That was, like, the sappiest thing you’ve ever done. I think I might faint.”
“If you collapse, I will drag you by the ankle,” Wednesday muttered. “But you will not collapse.”

Enid giggled, bumping her shoulder into hers. “You were totally crying.”
Wednesday’s lips pressed into a flat line. “I was not.”
“You were.” Enid’s smile softened. “And it means a lot. Like… a lot lot. I didn’t mean to make it sound like you don’t love me, because I know you do. Sometimes my brain just… spins out.”
Wednesday glanced at her, eyes still a little red, voice quieter. “No, don’t say that. I should have noticed sooner. I know you require a lot of affection and attentions and everything, I just… I don’t know.”
Enid’s chest melted, again. She tucked her head against Wednesday’s shoulder, uncaring that she was getting even wetter from the rain dripping off her. “You’re trying. That’s all I need.”

For a long while they just walked like that, pressed together under the umbrella, letting the storm rage around them.
Finally, Enid whispered, “So… you’d love me even if I was a Labubu, right?”
Wednesday groaned. “If you ever transform into one of those creatures, I will burn every last one as a warning.”
Enid laughed so hard Pancake barked in alarm. She kissed Wednesday’s cheek, still grinning. “Good answer.”
And with that, the house came back into view: warm light spilling from the windows, waiting for them.

The moment they stepped inside, Pancake shook violently, spraying rain all over the entryway. Enid laughed, pushing her hood back, hair plastered to her face.
Wednesday, however, looked horrified.
“You’re drenched, your hair is soaked, your clothes are clinging to you. You’ll catch pneumonia and perish before sunrise.”
Enid blinked. “…Okay, dramatic.”
“I’m being realistic,” Wednesday snapped, already setting the umbrella aside with military precision. She grabbed Enid by the wrist, steering her toward the couch. “Sit. Do not move.”
Enid plopped down, still giggling. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll be grabbing clothes quickly” Wednesday said, before squinting away, vanishing down the hall and returning thirty seconds later with one of her oversized black sweaters and a pair of fuzzy socks Enid had once dared her to buy. She thrust them at her. “Change. Now.”

Enid raised a brow. “Aw, you gave me your clothes, and you’re worried about me”
Wednesday crossed her arms. “I bought my clothes because they were outside of the closet and were the quickest to get to.”
Enid grinned, peeling off her soggy hoodie.
Wednesday ignored her and stalked off again, this time clattering around in the kitchen. When she came back, she carried a steaming mug.
“Tea, chamomile and extra honey. Drink it all.”
Enid took it carefully, eyes soft. “You’re so tender”
Wednesday sat beside her stiffly. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

Enid sipped, warmth spreading through her chest at more than just the tea. She leaned into Wednesday’s shoulder, muffling a smile. “You’re kinda cute when you panic.”
Wednesday’s lips twitched like she wanted to deny it, but instead she muttered, “Finish your tea. Then we’ll discuss your reckless behavior in further detail.”
Enid beamed. “Wow, hot tea, dry clothes, a scolding? Best post-rain date ever.”
And though Wednesday rolled her eyes, she pulled the blanket over both of them anyway.

Enid snuggled deeper into the blanket, sipping her tea with exaggerated slurps just to make Wednesday twitch.
Wednesday’s glare could have killed a weaker soul. “You’re insufferable.”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
Enid smirked, setting her mug down on the coffee table. She shifted closer, pressing against Wednesday’s side. “You know… I’m wearing your sweater. Which is, like, a very intimate married-couple thing.”
Wednesday arched a brow. “I fail to see how that’s intimate. Clothing is merely fabric.”

“Mhm,” Enid purred, tugging at the sleeve, “but it smells like you. And you’re letting me keep it. Which means you’re secretly obsessed with me.”
Wednesday’s ears went faintly pink. “I did not say you could keep it.”
Enid gasped dramatically, clutching the sweater. “So what, you’re gonna wrestle your wet, fragile, recovering-from-emotional-trauma wife out of it?”
Wednesday’s jaw tightened. “…I suppose you may keep it.”
Enid grinned like she’d won the lottery. She leaned in, brushing her lips over Wednesday’s jaw. “That’s what I thought.”

Wednesday turned her head at the last second, capturing Enid’s mouth with her own. The kiss was slow, lingering, warm in contrast to the storm still pounding outside.
When they broke apart, Enid whispered, “You taste like honey.”
Wednesday deadpanned, “I told you to finish your tea. And it’s you who tastes like honey.”
Enid laughed, looping her arms around her neck. “God, you’re lucky you’re hot.”
“And you’re lucky I tolerate your existence,” Wednesday murmured, but her hands were already sliding around Enid’s waist, pulling her closer under the blanket.

Enid’s laugh fizzled into a sigh when Wednesday tugged her fully into her lap, blanket wrapping around them like a cocoon. The tea was long forgotten; the only thing warm she cared about now was Wednesday’s mouth.
“You’re supposed to be making sure I dry off,” Enid teased between kisses.
Wednesday’s lips trailed to her throat. “This is an efficient method of warming you.”
Enid let out a breathless giggle. “Efficient, huh? So if I get hypothermia, you’re just gonna… kiss me back to life?”
“Exactly.” Wednesday’s tone was flat, but her hands at Enid’s waist betrayed urgency.

The kiss deepened: messier, hungrier now, Wednesday’s braids tickling Enid’s cheek as she leaned in. Enid tugged at the stupid pastel bat pajama top, grinning against her lips. “God, you’re so hot like this, but also… this outfit is killing me.”
Wednesday broke the kiss just enough to deadpan, “You purchased it. And stop calling me hot.”
“Can’t stop telling the truth” Enid whispered, kissing her again.

Minutes blurred until Enid finally collapsed against Wednesday’s chest, both of them flushed and breathing hard. Pancake thumped her tail once in the corner like she’d been keeping score.
Enid tilted her head up with a lazy grin. “Sooo… does this mean you forgive me for being dramatic about the Labubu thing and I forgive you for your negligence?”
Wednesday sighed, brushing damp strands of hair from Enid’s forehead. “I would forgive you for nearly anything. Except turning into one of those monsters, that would be unforgivable.”
Enid burst out laughing, nearly knocking the blanket off. “God, you’re such an idiot.”
“And yet, you married me.”

Enid pressed her forehead to hers, still giggling, still glowing. “Yeah. Best decision of my life.”
”You didn’t choose to”
“I chose to stay, and you did too”
Outside, the storm raged on. Inside, the house was warm, safe, and filled with the quiet sound of two wives making the worst day into the best afternoon.

The storm dulled to a drizzle as Enid curled tighter into Wednesday’s lap, blanket tucked around them. Her tea had gone cold on the table, but she didn’t care. All she needed was the steady beat of Wednesday’s heart under her ear.
“Still worried I’ll freeze?” she mumbled sleepily.
Wednesday’s fingers paused in her hair for a moment before resuming their slow, careful strokes. “Less worried now. You’re alarmingly warm.”
Enid hummed, eyes slipping shut. “Told you. Human space heater.”
They drifted off like that: entwined, soft, safe - while Pancake snored dramatically on the rug.
———————-
When Enid blinked awake again, the living room was dim, the rain had stopped, and the clock showed that it was past 7 p.m. She shot upright.
“Oh my god, we slept. We accidentally napped!”
Wednesday stirred, eyes opening instantly like she hadn’t actually been asleep at all. “Yes, I’m aware.”
Enid clutched the blanket like it was the end of the world. “We wasted hours! You could’ve been writing! I could’ve been… doomscrolling! Pancake could’ve been… I dunno, learning tricks!”

Wednesday sat up more slowly, braid falling over her shoulder. “You’re panicking about taking a nap?”
“Yes!” Enid squeaked, flailing. “We’re supposed to be in our productive in love wives era, not our grandma accidentally fell asleep on the couch era!”
Wednesday’s face remained perfectly blank. “I fail to see the difference.”

Enid groaned, burying her face in the blanket. “This is a crisis.”
At that exact moment, Pancake jumped onto the couch, tail wagging violently, and landed squarely on Enid’s stomach. Enid shrieked, the mug she’d abandoned earlier tipped and clattered to the floor.
Wednesday glanced at the mess, then back at Enid, deadpan:
“Crisis confirmed.”
Enid peeked out from under the blanket, hair a disaster, sweater slipping off her shoulder. “…We’re a mess.”
Wednesday leaned back against the couch, almost-smiling. “But we’re a married mess.”
Enid snorted, flopping dramatically against her shoulder again. “Fine. Guess that’s kinda cute.”

Enid sat up, still groaning dramatically, and grabbed her phone off the coffee table. Her eyes widened. “Oh no.”
Wednesday, who was gathering the cold tea mug, didn’t even look up. “What now?”
Enid turned the screen toward her like it was a death sentence. “They moved the deadline. The project is due tomorrow. Tomorrow, Wednesday. Not next week. Tomorrow.”
Wednesday froze. Slowly, she turned. “You’re telling me we wasted hours sleeping, only to wake up and discover you must summon those buffoons back into our home?”
Enid nodded miserably. “Yup.”

Wednesday placed the mug down with deliberate precision. “I should’ve let the storm carry me off into the woods.”
Enid scrambled up, pacing. “Okay, okay, no panicking. I’ll just… text the group chat, tell them to come over again, and-“
Wednesday cut in sharply, “Enid.”
Enid froze. “Yeah?”
“I will tolerate their presence once more. But if any of them disrespects you again it’s over.”
Enid blinked. “…That’s… actually really romantic. But also terrifying.”
Wednesday pinched the bridge of her nose. “Both can be true.”

Enid bit her lip, thumbs flying over her phone. “Okay, I texted them. They’re on their way. Thank you for letting me use our sacred living room as study group headquarters again.”
Wednesday muttered darkly, “Sacrilege is punishable by death in most cultures.”
Enid grinned, looping her arms around her wife’s neck. “But you love me enough to commit it anyway.”
Wednesday’s eyes softened just slightly, even as she grumbled, “You’re going to owe me for this.”
Enid kissed her cheek with a mischievous smile. “Fine. I’ll pay you back in cuddles, interest included.”
Wednesday didn’t answer, but her faint smirk gave her away.
——————
The study group filed into the living room like they were entering enemy territory. Probably because they were.
Wednesday sat stone-still, one hand laced tightly with Enid’s, stare was so sharp it could’ve cut glass. The other hand rested casually on her notebook… though the way her fingers tapped it felt more like a warning.
Enid smiled brightly. “Sooo, thanks for coming back, guys. Deadline panic, am I right?”
No one dared answer.

Wednesday spoke first, voice cool as steel: “This time will differ from the last. You will contribute, you will focus and you will respect my wife. The whole time.”
“Uh, we were totally planning to,” Over-Talker squeaked.
“Good.” Wednesday tilted her head, squeezing Enid’s hand just slightly. “Because I am now monitoring participation. Think of it as… natural selection.”
Doodler Boy cleared his throat nervously. “I… I actually already outlined the entire introduction?”
Wednesday gave a single approving nod. “Adequate.”

Enid, beaming, whispered, “Weds, you don’t have to hold my hand the whole time.”
“Yes, I do, for three main reasons” Wednesday murmured without looking away from the group. “I want to show you I care by giving you affection, you’re mine, and I want to make sure your questionable classmates know I’m always watching them.”
Enid turned pink, while the group turned pale.
As the session dragged on, the students typed frantically, stealing terrified glances at Wednesday. Every time someone slowed down or opened their phone, her grip on Enid’s hand tightened, just enough to make the offender snap back to work like they’d been electrocuted.

At one point, Enid leaned over and whispered, “I think you’re actually scarier than my professor right now.”
Wednesday finally turned to her, deadpan. “I should hope so. Your professor is not married to you.”
Enid choked on her laughter. The group, meanwhile, sat in stunned silence, trying to process whether that was romantic, terrifying, or both (it was both.)

After an hour had passed, the study group looked like they were trapped in a survival show. Tiktok Couch Guy was typing so fast his laptop fan was wheezing; Complainer Girl was writing the bibliography in an insane amount of styles, muttering like she was praying.
Wednesday hadn’t moved an inch. She sat, hand still entwined with Enid’s, eyes scanning the room like a prison warden. Pancake patrolled between the students, occasionally sitting on someone’s foot as if to weigh their sins.
Then- BANG! The front door flew open.

“OKAY, WHICH ONE OF YOU ORDERED TWELVE TUBS OF CHEESE BALLS TO MY APARTMENT?!”
It was Yoko, standing in the doorway and holding a giant cardboard box half her size, looking deeply betrayed.
The study group jumped a collective foot in the air. One kid actually screamed.
Enid blinked. “Um. Hi?”
Yoko stomped inside, glaring. “I carried this box three blocks, Enid. Three blocks. Only to discover it says YOUR address on the label. Care to explain?”

Enid went red. “Okay, first of all, it was ONE tub. And second of all, Amazon must’ve - uh - multiplied it?”
Yoko narrowed her eyes. “Right, sure.”
Meanwhile, the study group sat frozen, eyes darting between Yoko, Enid and Wednesday like they’d just been caught in some kind of cult meeting.
Wednesday finally broke the silence, voice ice-cold: “Enid requires fuel to sustain her energy during projects. If you have a problem with the cheeseballs, I suggest you take it up with the snack gods.”
Yoko cackled. “God, you two are hilarious.” She plopped the box down next to Pancake, who immediately stuck her nose inside. “Anyway, I’m staying for snacks.”

“Okay. Guys, this is my best friend, Yoko Tanaka. Yoko, these are-“ Enid started.
“Your what?” Wednesday asked, her eyebrow raising.
“…My best friend?” Enid said again, confused.
“I thought I was your best friend.” Wednesday said, side eyeing her.
The study group collectively froze, sensing danger in the air like cornered prey.
Enid’s face went red. “You are! You’re, like, my best best friend, my wife, my everything. You’re like… beyond best friend.”
Wednesday did not look convinced. “And yet you just introduced someone else with that title.”

Yoko, who was still leaning casually against the doorway, grinned wickedly. “Wow, didn’t think I’d be walking into a marriage counseling session today.”
Enid threw her hands up. “Yoko, you’re not helping.”
One of the study group muttered under their breath, “Are they always like this?”
“Yes,” Yoko said cheerfully, sipping her drink. “And it’s way funnier when you’re not on the receiving end.”

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed, her tone deceptively calm. “So this title doesn’t belong to me anymore.”
Yoko, standing smugly, raised a brow. “Ooooh. Did I just steal the crown?”
Enid spun on her. “Yoko! Shut up!”
The study group looked between them like they were watching a live soap opera. One whispered, “Are we supposed to… leave?”
“No,” Wednesday said instantly, eyes still fixed on Enid. “You’re going to sit here, do your work, and also witness the brutality of my dethronement.”
Enid groaned, clutching her hair. “You’re not dethroned! You’re the queen, Wednesday, Yoko is, like… court jester bestie. Totally different league.”
Wednesday paused, considering. Then finally gave a sharp nod. “…Acceptable.”

The study group was bent over half-hearted notes, trying very hard not to breathe too loudly. Enid scribbled furiously, Pancake snoozed on her lap, and Wednesday sat beside her, one hand clasping Enid’s under the table with the kind of menacing calm that made everyone sit straighter.
Yoko leaned back in her chair, sipping boba like she was watching prime-time TV and whispering to Wednesday. “So… how’s it feel being replaced?”
Wednesday’s head snapped toward her, eyes darkening. “Careful, Tanaka.”
Yoko grinned wider. “I mean, it’s rough, isn’t it? One minute you’re the bestie, next minute you’re just ‘wife.’ I’d be jealous too.”
Enid looked up in panic. “She’s not jealous, Yoko, she’s just-“

“I am not jealous,” Wednesday interrupted, voice icy. She squeezed Enid’s hand a little tighter, staring straight at Yoko. “I am simply… protective of my titles.”
“Totally different,” Yoko said, smirking. “Got it. So, not jealous… just guarding your title with the same energy as a dragon guarding gold.”
Wednesday didn’t flinch. “Precisely.”
“Yoko, please stop, you’re going to get her started,” Enid begged.
Yoko shrugged, cracking open a cheesball tub. “I live for this. Honestly, your marriage is better than Netflix.”

“So,” Yoko said then, around a mouthful of neon orange dust, “Talking about you guys, this is the infamous study group. Nice. Y’all look… sweaty. Terrified. Like, you’ve been locked in a Saw trap.”
Tiktok Couch Guy swallowed hard. “We’re just… working really hard…”
“Yeah, right.” Yoko smirked, pointing a cheeseball at Wednesday. “Nah, it’s her. She’s doing the Saw trap thing with her eyes, isn’t she?”
Wednesday didn’t even glance at her. “If I were running a Saw trap, there would be less typing and more screaming.”
The girl frantically scribbling multiple bibliographies dropped her pen with a squeak.
Enid rubbed her temples. “Yoko, again, you’re not helping.”

“I think I’m helping a lot.” Yoko leaned back, balancing the cheeseball tub on her knees. “Morale is higher when you’ve got snacks and live commentary. Right, Team Project?”
The group looked seconds away from mutiny, but no one dared answer.
Wednesday, still holding Enid’s hand, leaned slightly toward her. “Would you like me to remove her?”
Enid shook her head quickly. “No, no, she’s fine.” Then, muttering, “Besides, she’d just come back with banana bread or something.”
Yoko snorted. “Facts.” She popped another cheeseball in her mouth, licking her fingers obnoxiously. “Okay, but listen. If you guys don’t finish this project tonight, Wednesday’s totally gonna bury you in the backyard. And honestly? I’d help her dig.”
One student whimpered audibly.

Enid clapped her hands like a camp counselor. “Okayyy! Sorry about her, let’s refocus. Sources, citations, teamwork!”
Yoko, whispering loudly to Wednesday: “Translation: keep typing or it’s your funeral. Right?”
Wednesday nodded in agreement.
The study group typed like their lives depended on it. Which, in that moment, they weren’t entirely sure wasn’t true.
—————-
Thanks to some combination of terror, shame, and Yoko’s relentless snack commentary, the study group had actually finished the project in record time.
When all of those people left, Wednesday finally relaxed her grip on Enid’s hand. “Finally, the work is complete, and no one has died. Yet.”
Enid nudged her gently. “You did amazing, by the way. You didn’t even break a sweat. Mostly.”
Wednesday’s lips twitched slightly. “Mostly is sufficient praise.”
Enid grinned, leaning in to kiss her softly on the cheek. “You’re so good to me.”

Wednesday’s arm wrapped around her, pulling her close. “You are my priority.“
It was a soft, warm moment. Pancake curled at their feet, tail flicking happily.
From the kitchen doorway, Yoko froze, holding another cheeseball halfway to her mouth, her eyes widening. “OH MY GOD.”
She whispered to herself, utterly flabbergasted. “They’re… they’re so cute. I can’t handle it. I’m literally crying inside.”

Enid pulled back slightly, hearing the gasp. “Uh… Yoko?”
Yoko waved a hand vaguely, still frozen in awe. “Nothing! Just… keep doing that. I’m, uh… supervising.”
Wednesday shot her a sidelong glare that could have withered a forest. “Supervise quietly, please.”
Yoko froze further. “Quietly! Of course! Totally quiet!”
——————
The next day, the study group shuffled into the classroom, notebooks clutched like life rafts. Enid hovered a few feet behind, fidgeting with her pen, while Wednesday walked in first, her posture straight as a blade.
The group froze the instant she set eyes on them.
“Before you begin,” Wednesday said, voice calm but cutting, “I have a few things to say.” She let her gaze sweep over each terrified student. “Now… I won’t ever see you all again at my house.” Her eyes narrowed. “And you will not try to exploit my wife again, not even when I am not present. You heard me?”
A terrified silence followed. One girl squeaked, “Y-yes, ma’am.”

Wednesday’s stare didn’t waver. “Good. I trust this will never need repeating.”
The group nodded furiously, eyes wide enough to see the reflection of the fluorescent lights. Pancake, who had been hiding under a chair, gave a low growl of approval.
From a few feet back, Enid craned her neck, trying to catch every word. “…Wait, what did she say?” she whispered to herself, eyes squinting. Her brain couldn’t parse the menace. “Was that… terrifying or hot?”
Wednesday, done with the theatrics, stepped aside as the teacher shuffled papers. Enid stayed back for a moment longer, catching just the tail end of the scene. Her cheeks warmed. “Wow,” she muttered. “My wife is insanely scary.”
Pancake wagged her tail. Enid hugged her, grinning. “And I love her for it.”

Then, she shuffled to the front, holding her notes like they were a fragile treasure. Her knees were jittering, heart hammering.
“Okay…” she whispered, barely audible.
Wednesday appeared right beside her, hand sliding into hers, squeezing firmly. “Stop. Stop right now.”
Enid blinked. “…Stop what?”
“Stop panicking. Stop thinking you’re inadequate. Stop imagining every possible disaster.” Wednesday’s voice was low, sharp, and deadly serious. “You are brilliant, you are prepared, and you are my wife. No one else in this room has the right to intimidate you while I am present.”
Enid’s stomach did a weird little flip. “…You really think so?”
Wednesday leaned in just enough for Enid to hear. “I know so. And now it’s time to show everyone else.”

Before Enid could respond, Wednesday took a deep breath and, in a voice loud enough to carry across the front row, said:
“Ladies and gentlemen! Prepare yourselves! My wife, the most talented, intelligent, dazzlingly capable Enid Addams-Sinclair, will now present. You will all be impressed, and you will remember it.”
The group froze, mid-breath, the teacher blinked.
Enid’s cheeks flushed bright pink. “…You’re… you’re literally yelling at everyone to admire me.”
Wednesday leaned closer again, deadpan but impossibly intense. “Yes, I will not allow you to be underestimated.”
“You’re so cringe” Enid said, with a smile, caressing her wife’s cheek.

Then, she took a shaky breath and she stepped forward. Her voice wobbled at first, but then… she started to speak clearly, confidently, even throwing in a small smirk at the terrified study group.
Wednesday didn’t move an inch, eyes scanning the room, chest puffed slightly like a warning.
By the time Enid finished her first point, she was smiling, confident, and Wednesday’s lips twitched in something suspiciously like pride.

And then chaos erupted.
One of the study group members, still panicked from Wednesday’s earlier intimidation, dropped their stack of papers. They flew across the room like a flock of angry birds, scattering notes everywhere.
“Oh no,” Enid whispered, glancing down.
Wednesday’s eyes snapped to the floor. The tiniest twitch of her hand sent a shiver through the group. “Pick them up. Now.”
The kid scrambled like a cartoon character, papers fluttering everywhere. Enid bit back a laugh and turned back to the audience. “As I was saying-“

Pancake, not to be outdone, leapt onto a chair and began inspecting the students’ notebooks. A squeak escaped from the terrified girl who had mocked her the day before, and Pancake barked once, tail wagging.
“Keep going,” Wednesday whispered fiercely. “Ignore the… canine judgment.”
Enid nodded, voice wobbling again, then gaining confidence. She pointed at the first slide: “So, our next thought focuses on-“
A sudden crash made the class jump: one of the study group kids had tried to adjust the projector, knocking over a box of markers that spilled everywhere. Wednesday’s gaze sliced through the air like a dagger.

“Go on” she growled. “You are perfect. Do not let them ruin this.”
Enid took a breath and smiled faintly, then she started talking again, until the end of her point.
“Look at you,” Wednesday murmured just loud enough for Enid to hear, “making them listen. You are incredible.”
Enid’s chest warmed, cheeks pink. She almost forgot the chaos around her.

Another member of the study group, the one who had to talk in that moment, panicked and still trembling, spilled water on their notes. Pancake barked indignantly and trotted over to push the paper off the table with her nose. Enid paused, realizing the students were in full meltdown mode. She laughed softly.
Wednesday’s glare didn’t falter, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “Control your chaos,” she muttered under her breath.

When they all finished talking, the teacher blinked, trying to hide a smirk. “Well, that was… impressive.”
Enid exhaled, her relief so radiant it practically lit up the room. Wednesday, sitting front row with her arms crossed, allowed the faintest curl of pride to twitch at the corner of her lips and then, looking at Enid’s radiant smile, she felt the need to take a picture of her.
No one noticed. Not Enid, not the study group. Only Wednesday, sliding her phone back into her pocket with surgical precision.

When Enid went next to Wednesday again, she was happier than ever.
“See? You did it.”
Enid snuggled into her side. “I had the best hype-wife ever.”
—————-
They’d barely made it home from the presentation when Enid flopped onto the couch, still buzzing. Wednesday sat beside her with her usual composed silence, while her wife unlocked her phone.
“Wait. What the… WEDNESDAY.”
Wednesday didn’t look up from her book. “Yes?”
Enid spun the screen around, practically squealing. “You POSTED ME?!”
The post was right there on Wednesday’s profile, freshly uploaded:
It was a pic of Enid smiling, her eyes sparkling with relief, at the end of the presentation, and the caption read ‘This is my wife. You’re all going to be proud of her because she is the best, she is capable of anything, and anyone who disagrees will suffer an early demise. Consider this not a threat but a guarantee.’

Enid’s jaw dropped. “What- I… this is… oh my GOD. You remembered what I said and you actually listened to me!”
Wednesday finally looked at her, calm as ever. “You accused me of neglect, I decided to prove you wrong.”
Enid’s face flushed pink as she read the caption again. “This is so… embarrassing. And adorable. And terrifying. And- ugh, why is this so cute?!”
Wednesday’s lips twitched with the tiniest smile. “Because it’s true.”

In the meantime, Enid’s phone was buzzing from messages from the group chat.
‘Yoko: WEDNESDAY JUST WENT FULL WIFE MODE ON IG??
Ajax: “not a threat but a guarantee” I’M CRYING
Divina: she didn’t just post Enid… she soft launched, hard launched, AND threatened all of campus at the same time. Icon.
Bianca: ngl? I’m proud too. But also a little scared.’

Enid groaned. “They all read it already!! I can’t live like this.”
Wednesday, completely unbothered, typed away on her typewriter. “Well, now the entire campus knows precisely what they’re dealing with. No one will question your excellence again.”
Enid peeked out from the pillow, cheeks glowing pink. “Yeah, but now everyone also knows you’re, like… ridiculously in love with me.”
“Good.” Wednesday’s voice was flat, but her eyes flicked over with quiet intensity. “‘Cause they should.”

Enid was still scrolling through the messages, hiding behind her phone. “And it doesn’t bother you?“
Wednesday set her typewriter key gently back in place, then turned to look at her. Her expression was steady, dark eyes cutting right through the question.
“Why would it bother me?”
Enid blinked, caught off guard. “…Because it’s public? Because people are nosy? Because you like your privacy? I dunno, Wednesday, I just thought… it’s been hard for you to even secretly accept and acknowledge your feelings to yourself, let alone the internet knowing them so clearly.”

Wednesday leaned closer, her voice calm but almost sharp in its certainty. “I am not ashamed of you. Or of us. The opposite, in fact. If declaring my devotion means relinquishing some privacy, then so be it. Your existence in my life is not something I intend to keep hidden. I guess I’m just… growing up, understanding that who I love is more important than pointless things.”
Enid’s throat went tight, her eyes misty in that way that always embarrassed her. She whispered, “…You’re actually gonna make me cry.”

“Oh no, don’t.” Wednesday said, but Enid sniffled, trying to laugh it off as she wiped under her eyes. “Don’t mind me, just ugly crying over my goth wife being disgustingly romantic.”
Wednesday stiffened immediately. “Incorrect.”
Enid blinked, still laughing through her tears. “…What?”
“You are not ugly.” Wednesday’s voice was firm, clipped, as if Enid had just committed a crime punishable by death. “Least of all when you’re crying.”
Enid let out a watery giggle. “Weds, I wasn’t fishing for-“

“I mean it,” Wednesday cut in, almost too quickly. She reached out, thumb brushing a stray tear off Enid’s cheek. Her brow was furrowed ever so slightly, her usually steady voice betraying the faintest hint of urgency, her eyes watering just a bit. “Your face is beautiful. Always. Even when it’s blotchy. Even when your nose turns red. Even when your makeup runs.“
Enid’s breath hitched, eyes going wide. “…Are you- are you actually flustered right now?”
Wednesday straightened, hand retreating a little too fast, posture tightening like she’d been caught in a trap. “Absolutely not.”

Enid grinned through her tears, cheeks still damp but glowing pink. “You totally are. My scary goth wife just panicked and was about to start crying because I called myself ugly. Oh my god, this is… wait, hold on, I need to remember this forever.”
She dramatically pretended to take mental snapshots, and Wednesday, scowling, muttered, “If you tell anyone, I’ll deny everything.”
Enid just snuggled closer, smile soft. “Don’t worry. This one’s just for me.”
———————
After the presentation and Wednesday’s overly dramatic Instagram post, Enid had thought maybe they’d just crash at home and celebrate with Pancake, having a sleepy cute night in. But the group chat exploded within minutes, everyone suggesting they all had to go have dinner together.
So that’s how she and Wednesday ended up squished at a long table in a noisy off-campus restaurant.
Luca had barely sat down before he started practically glowing across the table at Wednesday. He’d seen the Instagram caption, and Enid had caught him trying not to squeal during the first two minutes and twenty-four seconds. Now, with the whole group seated and comfortable, he couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Wednesday Addams-Sinclair,” he burst out, loud enough for half the restaurant to hear. “I need to hug you so bad right now. That post? You LOVE my sister. Oh my god, you love her so much.”
The table broke into immediate chatter and teasing, Enid turned pink, trying to shush him.
Wednesday didn’t so much as look up from her water glass. Her voice was flat.
“You will not touch me.”
“But-“ Luca leaned over the table dramatically, arms half outstretched. “We’re siblings-in-law. This is, like, a family matter. It’s my right.”
Wednesday tilted her head, her gaze sharpening just enough to make him freeze mid-reach.

“Attempt it,” she said, “and you’ll be a dis-member of this family.”
The table roared. Luca clutched his chest and collapsed against his chair like she’d wounded him.
“So violent,” he moaned, but he was laughing too hard to commit to the bit.
That was when Wednesday noticed Luca hadn’t arrived alone. Next to him sat Bruno, the guy who’d flirted with Enid once and had since made himself a running joke in the group chat. Apparently he and Luca had been at the gym earlier, and now he’d been swept into the dinner too.
And Bruno… apparently had an agenda?

He leaned across Enid, ignoring the look on her face that begged him not to, and locked eyes with Ajax, who was two seats down.
“Sooo,” Bruno said, grin widening, “Ajax. What’s it like being Enid’s ex? How was she as a girlfriend?”
Enid let out a strangled noise. Ajax, completely unbothered, just blinked.
“Dude, I’m gay. I don’t know.”
The whole table wheezed, and Enid wanted to vanish under it.
And then Wednesday, who had been cutting through her salad with unnerving precision, calmly set down her fork. Her voice was steady, quiet enough that Bruno had to lean in, but everyone else still heard.

“You know who also doesn’t know and won’t ever know?” she asked, her dark eyes trained on him like a guillotine blade. “You. Because she’s mine. And me. Because she skipped that step and went directly to being my wife.”
For a second, the table froze, then chaos detonated.
Luca pounded the table, howling, Yoko shrieked “OH MY GOD” so loud the waitress turned to look, Divina was already typing furiously, probably writing what had just happened in her notes app, Ajax leaned back smugly, enjoying the show.

And Enid… she buried her face in Wednesday’s shoulder, her voice muffled but definitely laughing as she whispered, “You’re insane, but I love you.”
Wednesday allowed herself the smallest, almost imperceptible smile before she reached for her fork again like nothing had happened.

“DIRECTLY TO BEING YOUR WIFE-“ Ajax gasped, tears in his eyes from laughing. “No wonder you won’t hug Luca, you’re saving all the love for Enid.”
“I still want my hug,” Luca jumped in, reaching across the table again. Wednesday stabbed a piece of lettuce with enough force to make him withdraw his hand immediately.
Yoko leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, looking deeply entertained.
“Honestly, Bruno, I think that’s the fastest verbal kill I’ve ever witnessed. Congrats, man. You just died in public.”
Bruno, red-faced but refusing to back down, held up his hands.
“Hey, I was just curious! No hard feelings.”
Wednesday turned her gaze back to him, slow and deliberate.
“If you had any feelings left, I would be surprised.”
Enid groaned into her hands. “Weds, stop making the waiter scared of us.”
The waiter, who had just appeared with a tray of drinks, nearly tripped when Wednesday’s eyes flicked to him, Enid had to give him an apologetic smile and whisper a quick thank you.

“Okay, can we, like, breathe for a second?” Divina said, still giggling. “Because I swear, every time I think you two can’t get more dramatic, you prove me wrong.”
“Dramatic?” Wednesday echoed, affronted. “That was just a statement of fact.”

“Sorry Bruno, I guess this didn’t go the way you hoped it would” Luca said, still laughing. “You’re not her type anyway”
“Wait, what’s her type?” Bruno asked, and everyone at the table gave him a ‘are you really asking that?’ look.
“Man, I think you can see it yourself,” Luca said, then added “But I’m afraid we’ll have to go years back to answer this question. Enid, remember when you were younger and you had that giant, embarrassing crush on that character- what was his name?!”
Enid froze, fork halfway to her mouth. “Luca. Don’t.”
But it was too late. His eyes lit up. “SEVERUS GRIMM!”
“Nooooooo,” Enid groaned, sliding down in her chair.

Everyone turned to her instantly.
“Who?” Yoko asked.
Luca leaned forward, thrilled to be the center of attention. “Just some broody, pale, scary dude from this gothic fantasy series she read like, all the time. Black clothes, no smiles, writes poetry in his tower, literally creepy and mean but she was OBSESSED.”
The table erupted, Yoko slapped it. “BRO. THAT’S JUST WEDNESDAY WITH A DIFFERENT NAME.”
Divina nearly choked on her drink. “You were literally rehearsing for your wife and didn’t even know it.”
Enid, bright red, buried her face in her hands. “I’m going to jump into traffic.”

Wednesday, meanwhile, calmly set down her knife and fork, utterly unfazed. “So I am the living embodiment of her juvenile fantasy.” She turned to Enid with the faintest smirk. “How flattering.”
“WEDNESDAY!” Enid squeaked, muffled through her hands.
Luca looked delighted with himself. “I told you, didn’t I? It’s basically fate. My sister’s always had a type.”
“Intense, dark, and terrifying?” Ajax asked, grinning.
“Shut UP,” Enid hissed, kicking him under the table.

Bruno, trying to recover and to change the subject, leaned toward Ajax once more. “But wait, if you’re gay, how did you and Enid even-“
“We were both confused teenagers with bad timing,” Ajax cut him off smoothly. Then he added, smirking at Wednesday, “Unlike some people here who went from confusion straight into marriage.”
Wednesday didn’t even blink. “Efficiency is not a crime.”

Bruno leaned his chin on his hand, turned to Ajax again, and said with a grin,
“Sooo, you’re gay… that means I might actually have a shot with you?”
The table went dead silent for a second, like the collective ‘no he didn’t’ was hanging in the air.
Ajax didn’t even flinch: he popped a fry into his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and shrugged.
“You’re not really my type either.”
“Then what’s your type?” Bruno asked, like he couldn’t believe it.
“Well,” Ajax said calmly. “My type isn’t… people who ask me what my ex was like two minutes before hitting on me.”

Yoko spit out her drink, Enid buried her face in her hands, Divina muttered, “Oh my god, this table is cursed.”
Bruno tried to play it off with a laugh. “Harsh. But hey, I respect honesty.”
Wednesday, cutting her steak with terrifying precision, added,
“You should respect silence. It would save you.”
“Wednesday!” Enid hissed, nudging her.
“What? I’m offering practical advice.” she said, completely serious.
Luca leaned back, arms crossed, smirking. “Don’t worry, Bruno, maybe you’ll find someone. Just… probably not at this table.”
——————
When they finally made it home, Enid was still buzzing from the laughter, clinging to Wednesday’s arm like she might float away if she didn’t. But her smile faltered when she noticed Luca trailing a step behind them.
Wednesday stopped at the foot of the porch, turning slowly. “Enid. Why is your brother following us?”
Enid blinked at him. “Luca? …Why are you following us?”
He shrugged casually, like this was the most normal thing in the world. “Because… I live here now.”
Both wives just stared.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “No. Absolutely not. You have your own dorm.”
Luca gave a dramatic sigh, already stepping past them toward the door. “Had. Past tense. Long story short, gym-related incident, technically banned from sleeping there.”
Enid’s jaw dropped. “What did you do?!”
Luca ignored the question entirely and shot Wednesday a cheeky grin as he kicked off his shoes. “So… what’s for breakfast tomorrow, sis? I like pancakes. Fitting, considering your dog.”
Wednesday’s face twitched in barely restrained horror as Pancake barked in greeting, thrilled about the new arrival.

Chapter Text

Luca had been awake for seven minutes. Seven. That was all it took for him to decide the Addams-Sinclair household was a five-star resort that owed him service.
From the couch, his voice thundered through the quiet morning like a warhorn:
“Sistersss! Where’s breakfast? I’m wasting away!”
Wednesday’s pen froze mid-sentence over her notebook. She didn’t look up, she didn’t even breathe, but simply stared at the page with the intensity of someone calculating how many acceptable ways there were to commit a murder via frying pan.
Enid, already at the stove flipping pancakes, whipped around and glared. “Luca, you literally just woke up. You can make your own breakfast like… a normal human being.”

“Normal?” Luca clutched his chest like she’d shot him. “Do I look like a normal human being to you?”
“Good point.” Wednesday muttered.
Enid gasped and smacked her with the spatula. “Be nice.”
“That’s how you treat your wife? Well, you invited him,” Wednesday said flatly, her tone devoid of life. “You can feed him. I refuse to aliment parasites’ delusions and stomachs.”
Luca stretched across the couch like a Roman emperor awaiting grapes. “Parasite? Excuse you. I am your esteemed brother-in-law, you should be honored to feed me.”

Wednesday finally raised her head, her gaze black and cold. “A technicality I still intend to contest in court.”
Enid groaned. “Weds, he’s family. And family means-“
“-murder, if they ask for food in my house like that again.” Wednesday cut in, deadpan.
Luca slapped his knee, wheezing with laughter. “God, I love her. She’s terrifying.“
Enid rolled her eyes and slid a pancake onto a plate with unnecessary aggression. “Here. Eat. Don’t make me regret not letting her poison the butter.”
Luca bit in dramatically, chewed with his eyes closed, then groaned like it was a religious experience. “Mmm. Heaven. You’re my favorite sister.”
“Uh, rude?” Enid pointed her spatula at him. “I’m your only sister.”
“Exactly, makes it easier.” He winked, crumbs sticking to his mouth.

Wednesday snapped her notebook shut with a sound like a gunshot. “If he stays here one more night, I’ll be writing his eulogy by sunrise.”
Luca pointed his fork at her. “Bet it would slap, though. Real poetic. Do me dramatic.”
“Gladly.”
“Weds!”
“What?”

Luca sprawled further, balancing his plate on his chest like he owned the place. “Man, I could get used to this. Cozy house, great food, lovebirds bickering in stereo. It’s like my own personal soap opera.”
Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “This is not a soap opera, this is my nightmare.”
“And yet…” Luca took another bite. “…you let me sleep on your couch.”
“That was just me losing a battle against exhaustion.”
“Potato, potahto.” He grinned at Enid. “By the way, sis, I drooled on your pillow. Hope that’s cool.”
Enid shrieked, “LUCA!”
Wednesday, with unnerving calm, murmured, “Tell me where the pillow is. I’ll bury it in the backyard. Along with him.”

Luca had inhaled his first plate of pancakes in record time. Before Enid could even rinse the spatula, his fork clinked against the plate.
“Hey, chef! I want more.”
Enid shot him a look. “I’m not your chef, and you have arms.”
“Ugh. Manual labor? That’s so rude of you to suggest.” He leaned back, hands behind his head like a king on his throne. “C’mon, E. Just another stack, and maybe some bacon? Actually, yeah, definitely bacon, crispy. And coffee, black. No, make it a latte. Extra foam, with art on top.”

Enid whipped around. “Do I look like a barista-slash-short-order cook to you?!”
“Yes,” Luca said cheerfully.
Enid shrieked.
Wednesday, who had been practicing monk-level restraint at the table, slammed her hands on the wood with a crack. “Enough.”
The room went still and Luca froze mid-smirk, fork hovering.
Wednesday’s voice cut through the air like a guillotine.
“You will not treat Enid as your servant. She is your sister, not your maid, and certainly not your personal cook.”
Luca blinked, caught off guard. “…Damn, you sound like Mom when she was about to throw a shoe at me.”

Wednesday stood, her shadow falling long across the kitchen. “If you try to take advantage of her kindness one more time in my presence, I’ll ensure you never eat another meal comfortably again.”
Luca stared at her, then at Enid, then back at her. “…You’d actually starve me?”
Wednesday’s eyes glinted. “Starve? No, I’d feed you. Raw kale, unsalted rice, bones of sardines. Every meal, for the rest of your existence.”
Enid gasped, spatula halfway to her chest. “That’s so gross, Wednesday!”
But Luca threw his head back and howled with laughter, clutching his stomach. “Oh my GOD, she’s serious! This is the best, I feel so seen. No one’s ever threatened me with kale before.”
“Keep going with this behaviour and that will not be an abstract threat anymore.” Wednesday said coolly.

Enid stomped her foot. “You two are so weird! Luca, stop being a diva. Weds, stop threatening Luca with sardine bones.”
But secretly? She was glowing. Because her wife had just snapped at her brother, for her. She blushed and Luca noticed, leaned across the table, fork wagging.
“Okay, okay, I get it. You’re the scary wife who protects the sunshine wife. Fine. But like, why should you get all the perks? She’s my sister, I want breakfast privileges too.”
Wednesday’s stare was immediate, flat, lethal. “Privileges?”
“Yeah!” Luca threw his arms wide. “Like, you wake up, and boom, there’s a plate of pancakes in front of you, or tea, or cookies, or whatever, and you like it, so don’t act like you don’t exploit her too.”

Enid’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?!”
Wednesday rose slightly from her chair again, the way a predator does before a pounce.
“I do not ‘exploit’ her, she cooks for me because she loves me.”
“Ohhh,” Luca smirked, undeterred, “well, she loves me too, so technically I should get pancakes by default.”
Wednesday’s eyes darkened. “Do not mistake sisterly affection for marital devotion, the two are not equal.”
“Oh, c’mon, don’t be greedy,” Luca teased, leaning back smugly. “Sharing is caring, and she loves a lot of people, you know?”
Wednesday’s tone dropped into that low, deliberate register that made even Enid shiver sometimes.
“If you suggest again that my wife’s devotion to me is up for communal access, I will personally ensure you never speak the word ‘pancake’ without flinching again.”

“…She means violence, doesn’t she?” Luca whispered in mock awe, eyes wide.
“She always means violence,” Enid muttered, but her cheeks were bright pink.
Luca turned to her. “So, which one of us do you love more?”
“Luca! Stop that!” Enid yelped.
Wednesday’s chair screeched against the floor as she stood, expression unreadable but terrifying. “Choose wisely.”
Enid groaned, face in her hands. “Why are my favorite people like this?!”
In the meantime, Pancake was actually going crazy around the table, asking herself why was everyone calling her without actually paying attention to her.

Luca leaned back. “You know what, sis-in-law? Being married to you must be, like… a full-time job.”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed, her mouth curving just slightly; not quite a smile, more like the anticipation of a kill.
Before she could strike, Enid slammed her hand down on the table. “HEY, don’t talk about her like that.”
Luca blinked. “Like what? I’m just saying, she’s intense.”
“She’s brilliant,” Enid shot back, cheeks red. “She’s the most disciplined, dedicated, loyal person I know. And she doesn’t make me do anything, I do stuff for her because I want to, because I love her, and she does stuff for me too, because she loves me. Understood?”
Wednesday turned her head slowly toward her wife, something dark and electric sparking in her gaze.

Luca stared between them. “Uh. Okay. Sorry. Didn’t know I was stepping into the Addams Defense Force here.”
Wednesday finally spoke, her voice velvet over steel: “You mean the Addams-Sinclair Defense Force. Membership is exclusive.”
“Wow,” Luca muttered, standing and grabbing another pancake. “You two are disgusting, I feel like I just third-wheeled a Hallmark movie.”
“You are the wheel no one asked for,” Wednesday replied coldly, but her hand slipped under the table to brush against Enid’s.
Enid melted into a goofy grin, utterly undone, then narrowed her eyes at her brother, crossing her arms. “Okay, but spill now. What exactly did you do yesterday that made your dorm kick you out?”
Luca stretched like it was no big deal. “…Nothing major, it’s complicated.”
Wednesday’s tone could’ve frozen fire. “Uncomplicate it, then, because my wife demands to know.”

He sighed dramatically. “Fine. So, my dorm had this pizza-eating contest-“
Enid groaned. “Of course it did.”
“-and I won, obviously, but then some envious dude bet me I couldn’t bench press two guys at the same time. I proved him wrong, but…” he scratched the back of his neck, “…one of them might’ve landed in the RA’s fish tank.”
Enid slapped her face. “LUCA, oh my god-“
“It wasn’t my fault the tank was right there! Anyway, the RA freaked, people yelled, water everywhere.”
Wednesday’s eyes glittered like she’d just spotted a murder weapon. “So you disgraced yourself with pizza and fish.”
“Technically with athleticism,” Luca corrected.
Enid groaned again. “You’re unbelievable.”

Luca just leaned back, unbothered. “The tragic part is that it’s right before the Super Bowl. My dorm guys were looking for a place to throw their party tonight, you know, with betting and beer and everything. Don’t think they’ve locked down a spot yet, but it’s like my dream. It’s not hockey, of course, but… I always wanted to throw a Super Bowl party. Our brothers were supposed to come too.”
Enid’s head popped up instantly, eyes brightening like she’d just solved a crime. “Wait, that’s it. If we let them throw the Super Bowl party here, they’ll forgive you, and you can move back into your dorm!”
Wednesday set her fork down with a metallic clink. “Absolutely not. Filling this house with sweaty, yelling, testosterone-saturated imbeciles is not a solution.”
Enid, already buzzing with the idea, shot her a sunny smile. “Weds… think about it. One chaotic night, and poof, Luca’s problem isn’t ours anymore and you’ll never have to wake up to him yelling for breakfast again.”

Wednesday sat perfectly rigid in her chair, like someone had just suggested they adopt a frat boy as a pet. “No. I would rather chew glass than invite that level of barbarism into my home.”
Enid leaned forward across the table, elbows propped, grinning with that dangerously persuasive sparkle in her eyes. “C’mon, just imagine it. One night of noise, snacks, football, then they’re gone, Luca goes back to his dorm and peace is restored. It’s the perfect trade.”
Luca raised a hand like a referee. “Gotta say, I’m loving her pitch.”
Wednesday cut him a glare sharp enough to peel paint. “Silence.”
Enid scooted closer, her tone dipping into a mock-whisper just for Wednesday. “Pleaseee, Weds. For me? If you let me corrupt you this one time, I promise I’ll make it worth it.”
Wednesday’s jaw tensed. “You cannot ‘corrupt’ me. I am incorruptible.”

“Luca, out of this room!” Enid said, right before smirking and sliding right into her wife’s lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Mhm. Let’s test that.”
Before Wednesday could react, Enid pressed her lips against hers: warm, insistent, dizzying in that sunshine way only Enid could manage. When she finally pulled back, Enid grinned smugly and whispered, “Still incorruptible?”
Wednesday blinked once, very slowly. “…I despise you.”
“You love me.”
Wednesday’s sigh was almost a growl. “Fine. Your brother can host his… barbaric ritual. But if one of those frat boys so much as breathes too loudly, I will bury them under the floorboards.”
Enid squealed and kissed her again, victorious. “Knew you’d cave.” she said, before getting up and flopping onto the couch with Pancake, phone in hand, thumbs flying to write a message on the group chat:
‘so we need ur help bc we’re hosting a super bowl party at our house tonight’

It took two seconds.
Yoko: ‘WHAT.’
Bianca: ‘What do you mean we’
Ajax: ‘wait like at YOUR house???’
Divina: ‘Enid, please tell me this is a typo.’

Enid grinned and typed fast:
‘no typo, luca got kicked out of his dorm, and if we host the party the dorm boys + my brothers can maybe get him back in’
Yoko: ‘hold on, so wednesday is allowing frat boys in her house?’
Bianca: ‘Lies. Impossible. She’d rather burn the place down.’
Ajax: ‘she probably has a murder list already’
Divina: ‘I’m calling the police, this sounds like hostage-level coercion.’
Enid: ‘guys it’s fineeee. i convinced her, she just needed corruption’
Yoko: ‘oh my god’
Ajax: ‘ok but wait… so your bros are coming too’
Enid: ‘yup!! all of them’
Yoko: ‘Enid, that’s a nightmare.’
Bianca: ‘Enid Sinclair, how are you alive right now? If Wednesday hasn’t strangled you, she’s planning to.’
Enid: ‘lol she loves me, also snacks are required. pls and thx.’

Three dots appeared and disappeared multiple times before Ajax finally wrote: ‘I’m bringing holy water.’

“All settled! I’ll tell Luca to call the boys now. Oh, Weds, isn’t it amazing?” Enid said, getting up from the couch again.
“No.” Wednesday just replied, deadpan.
“Oh, come on! I know you love my brothers. I mean, last time they were here we dramatically confessed our feelings for each other, so…”
“It didn’t go this way, that had nothing to do with their horrendous visit.”
“Are you sure? Did you forget you asked to see my engraving only after I slapped Nico’s hand just because he tried to get my ring?”
“No, but-“
“You looove them” Enid chanted, jumping away to tell Luca to call their brothers.
—————-
Enid was already halfway through making nachos when the doorbell rang, making her pause so she could open the door, to find the friend group standing there with varying degrees of suspicion and grocery bags.
Bianca walked in first, arms crossed. “So let me get this straight: Wednesday Addams-Sinclair, infamous people-hater, has agreed to let frat boys and Sinclairs swarm her house. Against all laws of nature.”
Enid grinned sheepishly. “I have my ways.”
Yoko set down a bag of chips. “Translation: she kissed her into corruption or something like that.”
Enid flushed. “Maybe-“
“Definitely.” Divina cut in, already unloading sodas onto the counter.
Ajax plopped onto a stool at the kitchen island, looking way too excited. “Honestly? Worth it. The Sinclair brothers are awesome. Have you seen Nico’s arms? Or Mason’s jawline? Or-“

Enid and Luca (who’d just walked in with a sandwich) turned at the exact same time.
“Ajax.” Enid’s tone was sharp.
Luca jabbed a finger at him. “Stop being thirsty for our brothers.”
Ajax held up his hands, unrepentant. “I’m just saying! Objectively. They’re… a lot.”
“Yeah, a lot of trouble.” Wednesday muttered, stepping in the room.
“Here she is! The corrupted wife! How are you feeling for tonight? Are you ready to party hard with sweaty frat boys and watch them bet and yell at some buffed dudes running around with a weird shaped ball in your tv?” Yoko asked, an exaggerate smile on her face.
“If you don’t shut up, Yoko, I will-“
“It’s okay Weds, don’t listen to her” Enid said, caressing her wife’s arm.
“OH MY GOD, she actually interrupted her threat to me just because Enid touched her arm. Oh my god, she’s down bad for her.”

Bianca snorted, grabbing a bowl. “This is already shaping up to be a circus.”
Divina gestured at the half-prepped snacks. “If you think about it, this is just a circus with catering.”
Enid shoved a bag of popcorn into Yoko’s hands. “Okay, but you all promised to help. So chop, stir, arrange, whatever. If this party fails, Luca’s stuck here forever, and my wife will probably leave me.”
Luca raised his sandwich triumphantly. “I’d happily freeload forever.”
Wednesday looked at him like she was planning eight different ways to kill him. “Not if I bury you in the yard.”
Everyone froze for a beat before Enid clapped her hands. “Ookay! Let’s get to work!”

The kitchen looked like a storm had hit the snack aisle at a grocery store: bags of chips, dips, soda bottles and cheese were everywhere.
Enid was happily arranging nachos on a tray when Wednesday’s voice sliced through the room:
“Sinclair. Peel the carrots.”
Luca, sprawled dramatically on a chair with another sandwich and his phone, groaned. “Why me? That’s like, peasant labor.”
Wednesday didn’t blink. “You attempted to enslave my wife this morning, this your penance. We are also doing this because of you.”
Yoko choked on her soda. “Wait, what did Luca do this morning?”
“He was just being annoying, it’s not-“ Enid tried.

“That’s not fair tho!” Luca argued, grabbing a carrot with zero enthusiasm. “Why don’t I get the wife privileges too?”
Enid turned, pointing her spatula at him. “Because you’re not my wife, genius.”
Luca opened his mouth to argue again, but Wednesday cut him off, her tone deceptively calm.
“Your argument is invalid, chop faster.”
Enid giggled, while Luca groaned again and started chopping carrots like he was carving his own tombstone.

Ajax, trying not to laugh, piped up, “Honestly? It’s kinda hot watching Wednesday boss people around.”
Everyone froze.
“Oh my god, dude. Can you stop crushing on my WHOLE family?” Luca said, desperately.
“Dude, I’m gay, Wednesday’s not-“
Wednesday turned her head very slowly. “Ajax.”
Ajax blanched. “Uh- yes?”
“Carry the sodas to the living room. And if you drop even one, I will string you up from the ceiling fan.”
Ajax scrambled for the bottles, muttering to himself, “Worth it, totally worth it.”

Enid slapped her forehead. “This is what I get for asking for help.”
“No, wife,” Wednesday said, folding her arms with grim satisfaction as Luca miserably chopped carrots, “this is what you get for inviting chaos into our home.”

Just about twenty minutes later, Yoko was trying to string up some sort of banner that read ‘SINCLAIRS SUPER BOWL’
“Yoko, this isn’t about them.” Divina said.
“Ajax ordered it, I just said we needed another banner.”
“Everything’s about them.” Ajax said, with dreamy eyes.

Bianca leaned forward, eyeing Enid and Luca. “Alright, blondies. Five older Sinclair brothers. Spill, what are they like? We need info before they arrive.”
Enid opened her mouth, but Ajax raised his hand like a student desperate to answer. “So, Nico? Absolute chaos demon. Adam? Built like a Greek statue, arms the size of tree trunks… he bench-pressed me once.”
Everyone stared.
Yoko blinked. “He… bench-pressed you?”
Ajax shrugged. “Yeah, I asked.”
Luca stopped what he was doing just to slap his own face “Bro.”

Ajax kept going. “Mason? Sarcastic menace. Probably the one Wednesday’s gonna threaten to stab first. Jake’s an actual golden retriever, the sweetest guy alive. And Troy… ah, Troy. Quiet, mysterious… the one you secretly think about later-“
Enid threw a pillow at his head. “AJAX, stop it!”
“Mysterious? You just described one Sinclair brother as mysterious? You’re not okay.” Wednesday said.
Ajax puffed his chest out. “I said what I said, that’s my head-canon. Gotta say, it wasn’t the breakup with Enid that scarred me, it was leaving the Sinclair ecosystem. Peak tragedy.”
Enid buried her face in her hands. “Oh my god, you’re the worst ex boyfriend ever.”
Yoko smirked. “Yes, girl, he’s just thirsty for your brothers now.”
Ajax, without shame, replied: “I always was.”

Wednesday, from her armchair, spoke again, voice like ice:
“If I hear one more adjective about my brothers in law’s physiques, I will remove your tongue with embroidery scissors.”
Ajax gulped, but still whispered to Divina, “Okay but like… Nico’s arms…”
—————-
The door practically burst off its hinges as five broad-shouldered figures stormed inside like they owned the place.
“ENID!” Nico yelled first, scooping his sister into a hug so tight she squeaked.
Behind him, Adam whistled. “Damn, little sis living even more in style.” He immediately spotted the snack spread and made a beeline.
Mason clapped Luca on the back so hard it echoed. “So this is where you’ve been freeloading, huh?“
Jake pointed at Pancake, who was barking like mad. “Yo, even the dog looks buff. That’s Sinclair genetics.”
And Troy, already on his phone, lifted his eyes just long enough to nod at the room. “Sup. WiFi password? I’m trying to watch Tennis.”

Enid beamed at her friends, dragging the group into the living room like she was hosting a bizarre parade. “Okayyy everyone, these are my brothers: Nico, Adam, Mason, Jake, and Troy. Please don’t get scared, they’re loud, but not dangerous... most of the time.”
Yoko blinked. “That’s… five Lucases.”
Divina crossed her arms. “Yeah! Wasn’t Luca enough?”
Bianca deadpanned, “This feels like a hostile takeover.”
Wednesday, from her spot on the couch, closed her book with lethal precision. “You have no idea.”

The Sinclairs, of course, didn’t hear a word. Adam immediately tried to fist bump Ajax, who was too slow to react, Nico leaned across the snack table at Bianca and went, “So, you play any sports? You look like you play sports.”, Mason offered to arm wrestle anyone who made eye contact, Jake challenged Pancake to a race around the yard, Troy was already on the couch, yelling to some Tennis player on his phone - who of course couldn’t hear him - like he was his coach.
Enid grinned, clearly proud. “See? They’re fun!”
Wednesday muttered under her breath, “Fun is not the word I’d use.”

Nico spotted Ajax lingering by the kitchen counter with Yoko, barely holding a bowl of incandescent popcorn.
“Yoooo!” Nico boomed, pointing like he’d just discovered treasure. “No way, my little sister’s ex is here too? Bro!” He jogged over and clapped Ajax on the back hard enough to almost knock the popcorn out of his hands. “It’s nice you’re still in good terms. Cause you are, right? What’s the vibe?”
Enid gave the brightest smile imaginable. “Yes, he’s… my best friend, actually.”

Two voices shouted at once:
“HE’S YOUR WHAT?!”
Yoko nearly dropped her soda, and Wednesday’s head whipped around so fast it was almost inhuman.
Enid blinked, looking from one side to the other. “Oh my god, chill, you two.”
Wednesday stalked closer, eyes narrowing. “You said I was your best friend. Then I became your wife, and apparently Tanaka joined the bestie roster too and somehow I became best best friend? Which I’m not sure is even a thing but let’s keep it going. Now that mid guy,” she gestured vaguely at Ajax, “has been promoted as well? How many best friends are you willing to have?”
Yoko jabbed a finger at Enid, backing her up. “Right?! I had to fight for that title, and now you’re just handing it out like Halloween candy?”

Enid threw up her hands. “Okay, okay, let me clarify! Wednesday is my best best friend, Yoko is my girl best friend, and Ajax is my guy best friend.”
Ajax grinned nervously. “Wow, I got a gender qualifier. That’s… neat.”
Wednesday’s glare sharpened. “Don’t look so proud, it’s clearly a consolation prize.”
Yoko crossed her arms. “Yeah, I was ready to commit to joint custody of the title, but now it actually feels like a whole support group.”
Enid groaned, grabbing the nearest snack bowl just to have something to hold. “Why is this such a huge deal to you two? Can’t I have multiple best friends? This is ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously telling.” Wednesday muttered.

Ajax blinked. “I’m sorry, ladies, but I do qualify. I mean, I was there for Enid when she needed someone, I let her copy my history notes, I drove her to the mall that one time when she couldn’t parallel park-“
“Wow, such sacrifice,” Wednesday deadpanned. “Truly heroic.”
Yoko leaned back against the counter, sipping her drink with relish. “Yeah, dude, this is weak. If those are your receipts, I’m about to snatch the ‘best friend’ crown right outta your hands.”
Ajax straightened defensively. “Excuse me? I’ve known Enid longer than you!”
“Longevity doesn’t equal quality,” Yoko shot back.

“Guys!” Enid cut in, throwing her arms out. “This isn’t a competition!”
“It’s absolutely a competition.” Wednesday said at the exact same time.
Ajax pressed on, ignoring her. “Also, when she was sick last year, I brought her soup!”
Yoko rolled her eyes. “Big whoop, I held her hair back when she puked, and Wednesday married her. Top that.”
“Guys,” Enid repeated, but quieter, like she’d lost the will to live.
Wednesday’s expression remained unreadable, though her voice was ice. “Your rivalry is meaningless, I am her best everything. The rest of you are interchangeable footnotes.”
Ajax looked at Yoko. “Wow. She just called us footnotes.”
Yoko smirked. “Yeah, but at least I’m a primary source.”
“Ughhhhh.” Enid grabbed a throw pillow and shoved her face into it. “I hate you all.”

From the other side of the room, Nico hollered, “Yooo, is this like a romantic fight or something? Do I need to grab snacks?”
“Shut up!” all four of them yelled back at once
——————
It all began to flow again: the Sinclair brothers bench pressing things (and, apparently… people?), the friend group bantering, and Wednesday’s desperation growing. The loudness of the house was getting worse, and they really needed to set the house up, but it looked like no one was willing to do that.
“Guys! Please, stop what you’re doing for a second!” Luca tried, but no one listened.
“Sinclairs, look at me now.” Wednesday said, her voice low and dangerous, so much that it made everyone turn their heads to her. “Perfect. Now, remember you’re here to help. I only allowed you all in my house so you could help me and my wife getting rid of that… thing” she said, pointing to Luca. “So, now, get your hands on something and help, or you’ll be out of here in a minute. I’ll take care of it.”

By the time she finished talking, all of the brothers were trying to look busy: Jake was wrestling with the couch to “optimize the viewing angle”, Troy - his Tennis match abandoned with a dramatic sigh - was already setting up a questionable mountain of high protein snacks on the table, while Adam and Nico were arguing about whether chips were or not a food group, trying to put said chips in bowls. (The chips kept falling off)
Wednesday stood in the middle of the living room, watching with the dead-eyed stare of someone considering arson. “I did not sign up for a Sinclair reunion.”

Mason grinned at her like she’d just cracked the funniest joke in the world. “Sign up? Love, you don’t need to! You’re a Sinclair too!”
Several others chimed in at once:
“Yeah, our newest member!”
“We love you, Wednesday!”
“Sinclair wives get honorary lifelong status and forever lasting hugs. No take-backs!”
Enid, bouncing with way too much energy for someone enabling this chaos, clapped her hands together. “See? They do love you, Weds!”
Wednesday’s glare could have cut glass. “Affection from them is not an achievement I aspire to.”

Jake slung an arm around her shoulder anyway, undeterred by her death stare. “That’s our sister-in-law! So dark, so scary, so… perfect for Enid.”
Wednesday visibly twitched, recoiling an inch like he’d offered her the plague. “…If you touch me, you’ll be pulling back a stump.”
Enid giggled, already stealing a bowl of chips. “Aw, she fits right in.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes at her and slipped away to the corner of the living room, searching for a moment of silence. Of course, that was when Mason materialized like a tank in human form, all broad shoulders and dopey sincerity.
“Hey again, Wednesday,” he said, voice lowered like he was about to share a state secret.
Her eyes narrowed. “If this is about protein shakes or push-up competitions, remove yourself immediately.”
Mason shook his head, unusually serious. “No, no, it’s not that. I just…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I saw your post. Y’know, the one about Enid. That caption…” His whole face softened. “You basically wrote how much you worship her. And honestly? That’s exactly what my sister deserves: someone who thinks she’s the best thing in the world. That’s like what I always wanted for her, that’s all she needs.”

Wednesday blinked, caught off guard, and Mason’s eyes got misty with earnestness. “So, thank you for loving her like that, really.” He moved forward, arms spreading for a hug the size of a bear.
Wednesday immediately raised a hand. “If you so much as brush your arm against me, I will snap it at the joint, and then you’ll be lopsided for the rest of your life.”
Mason froze mid-hug, looking like a rejected golden retriever. “…okay, no hugs.”
But Wednesday’s gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary. Her lips twitched, almost betraying the faintest smile. “Still… your assessment is correct. She deserves worship, and I am more than willing to provide it.”

Mason beamed like she’d just given him the highest honor. “Knew I liked you.” He clapped his enormous hands together, the sound echoing like thunder. “Alright, so no hugs.… but fist bump?”
Wednesday glared. “Leave before I reconsider my tolerance.”
As Mason lumbered back into the living room, looking absurdly pleased, Wednesday allowed herself one tiny exhale.
Enid’s oldest brother approved of her.
Not that she needed approval, of course, but… maybe, just maybe, that thought warmed something deep inside her ribcage, making her feel even closer to Enid.

Enid, who in that exact moment was kneeling on the floor, taping down an extension cord for the TV hookup, but then she glanced up and froze. Across the room, Wednesday was standing very still by the bookshelf, staring at the blank wall with the faintest, rarest curve at the corner of her mouth.
Enid blinked. “Am I crazy… or is Wednesday smiling at the wall right now?”
Mason, who was attempting to balance a bowl of nachos on top of a stack of solo cups, shrugged. “Well, to be fair, we just had a very thoughtful conversation.”
Enid immediately straightened. “What? What do you mean, thoughtful conversation?“

He grinned, proud as ever. “I told her I saw that Instagram post she made about you… you know, the one where she wrote that long caption about how you’re the best, and capable of anything, and all that sappy stuff?”
Enid flushed bright pink. “Oh my god, Mason-“
Mason kept going, completely unfazed. “Yeah, I told her she’s exactly what you deserve, someone who basically worships the ground you walk on, and I thanked her for loving you like that.”
Enid’s jaw dropped. “You what?”
“Yeah,” Mason said simply, like he’d just commented on the weather. “She said you do deserve worship, and that she’s happy to provide it. I love her so much!”

Enid made a sound halfway between a squeak and a gasp, hands flying up to cover her face. “She said that? To you?”
Mason beamed. “Yep, then I tried to hug her, and she threatened to dislocate my arm. But still! Really sweet moment.”
Enid peeked between her fingers, watching Wednesday still gazing at nothing in particular with that almost-smile.
“Okay,” Enid muttered, kicking lightly at Mason’s shoe, “but maybe don’t tell her I know she said that, she’ll totally go all murder-eyes on me if she thinks she’s being romantic twice in a day.”
Mason laughed so loudly it rattled the snack bowls. “You got it, sis.”
Across the room, Wednesday finally turned her head, eyes locking on Enid like she’d felt the conversation about her. Enid quickly pretended to be deeply invested in lining up the chip bags perfectly, heart racing.
——————-
When she recovered, Wednesday cornered Luca by the kitchen counter like a detective interrogating a suspect.
“How many,” she began, tone sharp as a guillotine, “degenerates are you bringing into my home tonight?”
Luca, halfway through eating shredded cheese straight from the bag, froze. “Uh… not degenerates, friends. Maybe like… twenty? Thirty?”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed to razor-thin slits. “You can forget thirty. List them. One by one.”
Luca blinked. “Like… out loud?”
“Yes, I wish to know exactly which rodents are contaminating my floors.”

He scratched his head. “Okay, well, Kyle, Jeremy, Marcus, then some gym bros-“
“Unacceptable.”
“-and then, uh, some people from class, like Sam and Oliver. Oh, and Bruno-“
The knife in Wednesday’s hand (she’d been slicing lemons for drinks, though it looked more like she was practicing precision cuts) stopped midair.
Her eyes went black with rage. “Bruno.”
Luca frowned. “Yeah? You guys all already know him, he’s-“

Wednesday’s voice was low, venomous. “The sniveling insect who dared flirt with my wife. In front of me. Twice. And you invited him to my house.”
Luca winced. “Okay, but he’s harmless. Like… flirty with everyone. He doesn’t mean-“
Wednesday slammed the knife into the cutting board so hard the lemon halves bounced. “He will mean it when I bisect his skull for sport.”
From the couch, Enid called nervously, “Uh, Weds? You’re not actually gonna murder anyone before kickoff, right? Please don’t.”
Wednesday didn’t look away from Luca, eyes still burning. “No promises.”

Luca held up both hands. “Alright, fine! I’ll try to keep him away from you two. Maybe seat him in the corner with a gag if necessary.”
Wednesday straightened, adjusting her collar with eerie calm. “Good. Do so, and you might live to see tomorrow.”
Luca muttered under his breath, “Y’know, for someone who married my sister, you really hate her brother’s friends.”
“Everything is not about you, Luca, and I don’t hate your friends,” Wednesday corrected, stalking back toward Enid like a hunting cat. “Only the ones stupid enough to covet what is mine.”
Enid quickly shoved popcorn into her mouth to avoid smiling too hard.

Wednesday finally exhaled through her nose, as if she’d processed the nightmare list again. She tapped the knife against the cutting board once, decisive. “So, ten people.”
Luca blinked. “Uh, no. I said twenty or thirty”
Wednesday slowly turned her head, gaze sharp enough to cut glass. “And I already told you you can forget thirty.”
Luca threw his arms up. “That’s not how this works! You can’t just-“
“Yes, I can.” Wednesday’s voice was calm, final. “Ten more bodies. That is the absolute limit before I unleash pest control measures.”
From the couch, Enid snorted. “You make it sound like they’re rats.”

Wednesday didn’t miss a beat. “You said that, I only thought it.”
Luca groaned, running a hand over his face. “You’re killing me, sis-in-law. You want me out of this house, right? Then I gotta make this party big. Like legendary big. The guys won’t take me back if it looks like I can’t host.”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed further. “I am not sacrificing my home to a swarm of testosterone-fueled baboons. Can’t you see how we’re already struggling? We’re still twelve and you plan on adding twenty more people. You must either be an idiot or very bad at basic maths.”
“Twenty isn’t a swarm!” Luca shot back.
“Twenty is twenty too many.” Wednesday deadpanned.

Enid giggled, hopping off the couch to loop her arm around Wednesday’s. “Weds, if you two compromise, he’ll actually leave after tonight. Is it not what we want?”
Wednesday pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly weighing whether poisoning the chip dip was a valid strategy. “Fifteen.” she said, just before disappearing into the hallway, intending to go to the bedroom, but a loud noise came from where she was about to step in.

“…Please tell me that was Luca,” she said flatly, not daring to look.
“Hey! It wasn’t me!” Luca called.
Enid gasped when Pancake zoomed in, covered in dirt, dragging what looked like a half-dead fern across the floor. The shredded remains of a flowerpot clinked with every hop.
“Pancake! Oh my god, she woke up.” Enid dove forward, but the dog darted behind the couch, tail wagging like she’d just did something they all had to be proud of.
The Sinclair brothers howled with laughter, Ajax practically folded in half.
“Oh my god, she murdered the plant!” Yoko said, snapping a picture.

Wednesday finally stood, calm but deadly. She stalked over to the couch, crouched, and locked eyes with the panting culprit. “Release the plant.”
Pancake gave a playful growl, then bounded straight into Wednesday’s arms, dirt and all, and everyone braced for the apocalypse.
Instead, Wednesday caught her neatly, dust and soil smearing her black sweater. She adjusted Pancake against her chest, one hand stroking her fur with a measured gentleness. “You have no shame.” she murmured, almost fond. “You’re just like your blonde mama.”

“Wait,” Bianca pointed. “She just wrecked your plant, and you’re cuddling her?”
“She’s a puppy.” Wednesday replied matter-of-factly, scratching behind Pancake’s ears while the dog squirmed happily. “Her crimes are acts of instinct. Unlike certain humans who exploit kindness, she is incapable of malice.”
Her eyes flicked deliberately to Luca.
“Excuse me?” Luca spluttered. “I’m being compared to a dog and losing?”
Enid snorted, pressing a hand over her mouth.
Wednesday didn’t look away from Pancake. “Correct.”
Luca pointed accusingly. “She just got away with murder! That plant didn’t stand a chance.”
“She’s pure,” Wednesday said firmly, letting Pancake lick her chin, “and therefore above reproach.”
Enid just about melted into a puddle at the sight of her terrifying goth wife sitting there with dirt all over her and still babying their puppy.
——————
The doorbell rang, and Luca bounded to open it like a golden retriever who’d just heard the word ‘treat’.
The frat boys poured in, loud and swaggering, high-fiving and yelling about bets before they’d even said hi. The Sinclair brothers rose to meet them, Enid winced and Wednesday looked like she was seconds away from setting up booby traps.
“Sinclair! Let’s gooo!” one of the dorm boys shouted, clapping Luca so hard on the back he nearly stumbled.

Behind them came Bruno, sleeves rolled up and smirk firmly in place. His eyes swept the room until they locked on Enid, and he lit up.
“Oh, Enid” he crooned, leaning against the doorway like he thought he was in a movie. “Didn’t expect to see you hosting. Lucky me.”
Wednesday’s expression soured instantly, and the air temperature seemed to drop five degrees.
“Keep it moving.” she just said, but she looked like she was planning his murder.

And then, trailing at the back, a girl stepped in clutching a soda can. She glanced around with curiosity, then made a beeline for Wednesday.
“This is my little sister, Agnes,” one of the frat boys introduced offhandedly. “She’s stuck with me ‘cause my parents ditched for the weekend. Hope it’s cool she’s here too; don’t worry, she’s eighteen, she’s not a baby.”
Agnes barely acknowledged him. “You’re Wednesday Addams-Sinclair,” she said with a kind of eager reverence. “I read your essay in the campus journal last semester. I’m applying to Horror Lit next year, I want to study exactly what you’re doing, and you’re doing it amazingly.”

Enid’s head whipped around so fast it was a miracle she didn’t give herself whiplash.
Agnes smiled, oblivious, and took a bold little step closer to Wednesday. “Maybe you could give me advice? It’s… really inspiring what you’re doing.”
Enid’s jaw dropped, Ajax whispered, “Oh no,” like he was watching a car crash in slow motion.

Meanwhile, Bruno had already slid next to Enid, leaning close. “So tell me, how’s married life? Got room in your heart for a little excitement anyway?”
Enid groaned and buried her face in her hands. “Oh my god, why is my life like this?”
Wednesday’s voice cut across the noise like a blade. “Because you invite these people in.” she said flatly, glaring at Bruno, then turning her gaze on Agnes with a measured coolness that made Enid’s stomach flip.

The frat boys flooded into the living room like they owned the place, arms full of six-packs and chip bags, already yelling over each other.
“This place is perfect, man!” one shouted, throwing himself onto the couch. “Way better than the dorm lounge.”
“Yeah, no people breathing down our necks,” another added, already setting up the betting sheets on the coffee table.
“Thanks guys! I’m so happy you like it!” Luca said, with a huge smile.
Enid plastered on her best hostess smile too. “Glad you all could make it!”
Wednesday muttered under her breath, “Yeah, so glad…”
Luca, oblivious, was beaming like he’d just won the lottery. “See? I told you they’d be chill!”
“They’re not chill,” Wednesday corrected, eyes narrowing as she tracked every movement. “They’re loud, careless, and reek of overcompensating masculinity. My house is now contaminated.”

The Sinclair brothers didn’t help matters: Nico was dapping up those boys he’d just met as if they were long-lost cousins, Jake and Adam challenged two of them to see who could shotgun a soda fastest, Mason was interrogating one about his workout split like it was national security and Troy had already switched the TV to pre-game commentary.
Enid slid over to Wednesday, trying to soothe her. “Remember Weds, it’s just one night.”
“One night too many.” Wednesday deadpanned.
Her eyes swept across the room again: empty pizza boxes were already being tossed onto the counter, someone had spilled beer on the rug, and one frat boy had taken his shoes off and was rubbing his socks on the coffee table.

Wednesday’s jaw tightened. “Just remember I would rather have my organs removed without anesthesia than host another Sinclair–frat alliance.”
“Relax,” Enid whispered, squeezing her arm. “They’ll behave, probably.”
As if on cue, one frat boy yelled, “Yo, who wants to bet twenty bucks the halftime show sucks?” while another pulled out a megaphone he had brought with him.
Wednesday closed her eyes slowly, like she was calculating the maximum amount of murders she could commit and cover up before the police arrived.
Bianca, watching from the kitchen, leaned over to Yoko. “Five bucks that she actually snaps before halftime.”
“Ten.” Yoko smirked.

“Alright, alright, everybody shut up for a sec!” Luca shouted, standing on a chair like he was a prophet about to deliver the Ten Commandments of Football. The megaphone guy helpfully blasted a loud noise to get attention.
“Betting rules!” he announced. “Each of us gets a sheet. You bet on touchdowns, field goals, fumbles, halftime show, commercials… literally everything. Winner takes the pot at the end.”
One very tall boy’s eyes lit up. “So basically gambling, but with chips and yelling?”
“Exactly.” Luca grinned.
Another boy immediately leaned in. “What’s the minimum buy-in?”
“Five bucks, unless you wanna flex.”
Jake slapped down a twenty. “And I’ll flex.”

Ajax was already reaching for a pen. “Okay, okay, so if the halftime show has a special guest, does that double the payout?”
“YES,” Mason confirmed, smacking his shoulder. “Dude gets it.”
Enid was perched on the couch, giggling at how into it everyone was. Wednesday sat beside her, arms folded, looking like she was preparing to deliver a funeral speech.

“So let me clarify,” Wednesday finally said, her voice slicing through the noise. “You’ve gathered in my home to loudly eat, drink, and exchange money over whether or not a man will drop a ball?”
“Yeah,” one frat boy said, confused. “That’s literally Super Bowl.”
Wednesday blinked once, slowly. “Humanity deserves extinction.”
Nico threw an arm around her shoulders before she could stab anyone with her glare. “Don’t worry, sis-in-law, we’ll make it fun.”
“I doubt that.” Wednesday replied, deadpan, but she didn’t shrug him off.
“Now… COMMERCIAL BREAK BETTING!” Luca yelled again, and the room erupted in cheers.

“Okay, wait, WAIT.” Enid clapped her hands, jumping up on the coffee table so everyone had to look at her. “Before we start, house rules.”
Wednesday raised an eyebrow. “This should be promising.”
Enid pointed dramatically around the room. “Rule number one: Do not overwhelm or bother my wife. If she tells you to do something, you do it. Immediately, no questions asked. Don’t yell near to her and don’t even talk to her if that’s not necessary, she doesn’t enjoy small talk with strangers.”
Half the boys chuckled like she was joking. Then they caught Wednesday’s glare and the laughter died like a candle in a hurricane.
“Rule number two,” Enid continued, beaming now, “do not insult our dog Pancake. She is family, she is love, she is life. You will respect her. My wife hates when people don’t.”
Pancake barked from her blanket pile like she understood perfectly.

“Rule number three,” Enid went on, “no one’s allowed to trash the place. If you spill something, you clean it up. If you break something, you apologize and then you clean it up.”
“Rule number four,” Bianca added dryly from the couch, “no karaoke.”
“Yeah, no karaoke!” Enid agreed. “Unless I say it’s fine.”

Wednesday slowly rose from her chair, every dorm boy stiffening.
“My rule,” she said evenly. “Respect Enid. If she offers you food, you thank her. If she gives you an order, you obey it. If I see so much as one eye-roll, one sigh, or one ounce of disrespect directed at her… I’ll salt the earth where your bodies fall.”
The boys blinked, unsure if she was serious. The Sinclairs knew she was.
Enid’s face went bright pink, her heart doing cartwheels. “Aww, Weds…” she mumbled, grinning like an idiot.
Nico clapped from the corner. “Ten out of ten, best sister-in-law speech!”
Wednesday didn’t move. “I wasn’t attempting to be endearing, I was issuing a warning.”
Enid looped her arm through hers anyway, beaming. “Still cute.”
——————
Bruno spotted Enid again in the crowded living room, and this time he turned the charm up to eleven.
“Enid Addams-Sinclair,” he announced, loud enough that people nearby turned their heads, “you look like a literal vision. Like… if sunshine had a face, or if rainbows were a person.”
Enid’s ears burned pink, not for the attempted compliment but for second hand embarrassment she was feeling. “That’s… wow.“ she said, trying not to laugh.

Before she could say more, he pivoted instantly to Ajax, leaning against the wall like he was in a rom-com.
“And Ajax, wow, you don’t even know how good you look in this lighting. Like, are you trying to steal the show? Be honest.”
Ajax blinked, choking on his soda. “What lighting? It’s… just a lamp, dude.”
Bruno grinned, lowering his voice. “Exactly. Even a lamp bows down to you.”
Enid covered her mouth to hide a laugh. “Oh my god.”

That’s when Wednesday appeared, silent as a shadow, at Enid’s side. She looked Bruno up and down like he was an intruder (which, for her, he was).
“You appear to be suffering from a severe case of verbal diarrhea,” she said, voice like ice. “Unfortunately, there is no cure. Except death.”
Bruno raised his eyebrows, smirking. “Relax, I’m just paying compliments. Can’t a guy appreciate beauty when he sees it?”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “You may appreciate from a distance of no less than twenty feet. Or better, from outside the house. Or 6 feet but under.”

Enid looped her arm through Wednesday’s, trying not to burst out laughing but also swooning inside. “Sorry Bruno, my wife’s protective, and I love it.”
Ajax muttered, “More like seconds away from burying him alive.”
Before Wednesday could respond, Luca’s voice cut through the noise:
“Wedneeesday! Emergency!”
She turned her head slowly, murder still in her eyes. “What is it, Sinclair?”
Luca waved her over frantically from the kitchen doorway. “Some guy is trying to deep-fry chicken wings in a candle jar, and I don’t think that’s legal. Or safe. Actually, mostly not safe!”

Wednesday stared at Bruno one second longer, her glare a promise of violence, before she stalked away. “Do not move,” she hissed at him, like she was commanding a corpse to stay still in its grave.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Bruno sighed dramatically and leaned his elbow on the wall beside Enid. “Your wife’s intense, but I like a challenge.”
Enid frowned, already tired. “You’re wasting your time, Bruno.”
“Well, you’re worth a shot. But your twink friend isn’t bad either. Hey Ajax, did it hurt when you fell? ‘Cause you’re a star”
“Oh my god bro, you’re so cringe…” he just replied, a disgusted look on his face.

Bruno’s ego was almost dead, but instead of being totally defeated he turned to Enid again, his grin lazy and sharp. He leaned against her for what felt like the forty-second time that night, eyes flicking down her legs like he thought he was being subtle.
“Wow,” he said, voice pitched just loud enough for Ajax to hear too. “With tights like that, I’m shocked you even bother wearing pants. I mean, forget the Super Bowl…” his grin widened “I’d rather watch you bounce all night.”
Enid blinked. For a second, she was too stunned to even react, while Ajax choked on his soda.
“Stop being so gross, dude! That was too much” he said.

But then Enid straightened, planting her hands on her hips. “Okay, listen,” she said, sharp enough to cut through his smug tone. “First of all, I’m married. Legally, emotionally, everything. Rings, contract, the whole thing. Second, I already told you you’re embarrassing yourself, because I really don’t care. And third? Maybe don’t disrespect me and my wife at the same time. Not a cute look.”
Bruno only smirked, clearly not expecting her to bite back. Enid rolled her eyes. “Seriously, it’s pathetic.”
Ajax was still wheezing beside her. “You tell him, E!”
She spun on him, jabbing a finger in his direction. “And you. Do not tell Wednesday. If she hears what he just said, she’ll take a brick to his face and then I’ll be stuck explaining why my wife committed homicide at a Super Bowl party. I’d rather pass, what do you think?”

But before she could move on, two shadows loomed behind her. Jake and Troy Sinclair, both very much having overheard.
“Excuse me?” Jake’s voice was low, dangerous.
Bruno raised his hands like he’d been caught with a weapon. “Hey, relax, it was a joke.”
Troy took a step closer, towering over him. “Say it again, go ahead. Let’s see how funny it is when you won’t be able walk anymore after.”
Bruno’s smirk flickered.
Enid groaned and rubbed her forehead. “Oh, for the love of… please don’t kill him. Not tonight. He’s not worth the effort.”
But the Sinclair brothers weren’t letting it drop.

Jake folded his arms across his chest, muscles straining against his shirt. “You think you can say that to our little sister and walk away breathing easy?”
Troy cracked his knuckles, slow and deliberate, his eyes narrowed on Bruno like a hawk. “Nah, not happening. You talk to her like that again, you’ll be sipping your food through a straw.”
Bruno held up both palms, smirk wobbling. “Guys, come on, it was a compliment. Chill.”
“Compliment?” Jake barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless. “That was trash. You want to compliment my sister? You tell her she’s smart, or brave, or that she makes the best damn cupcakes in the family. You don’t-“ he jabbed a finger into Bruno’s chest “-say things like that. That was the most gross, misogynistic and disrespectful thing I’ve ever heard.”

Enid groaned, hoping Wednesday wasn’t somewhere near them to hear anything. “Guys, I can handle it. Please don’t-“
“Handle it?” Troy cut her off, still glowering at Bruno. “You shouldn’t have to handle anything, this clown should already know better.”
Bruno glanced between them, clearly calculating whether this was going to end with him sprawled on the carpet. Ajax, for once, stayed very, very quiet.
“Seriously,” Jake pressed on, “say one more thing out of line, and we’ll make sure everyone in your college knows exactly what kind of creep you are. And then we’ll handle it ourselves.”
Enid stepped between them, throwing up her hands. “Okay, okay! Message received! He’s scum, you guys are scary, I’m married, the world keeps turning. Can we please not turn my living room into a wrestling ring?”

Jake and Troy exchanged a look, then grumbled but backed off a step. Troy muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Still think we should’ve decked him.”
Bruno let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Geez. Overprotective much?”
Ajax finally found his voice again. “Uh, yeah? They’re Sinclairs, that’s literally their brand.” he said, but Bruno was already gone.
Enid groaned again, dragging a hand down her face. “Somebody kill me before Wednesday finds out about this.”

“Find out about what?”
The voice was silk and steel, just behind her. Every single hair on the back of Enid’s neck stood up. She lowered her hands slowly to see her wife standing there: arms crossed, expression unreadable, and eyes fixed on her like.
Ajax almost dropped his soda. “Oh, uh, nothing! Absolutely nothing! Isn’t that right, Enid?”
Enid laughed nervously, too high-pitched to be convincing. “Yup! Totally fine. Just, you know, funny frat boy banter, haha, nothing you need to worry about, babe.”
Wednesday’s gaze sharpened. “Your laugh is betraying you.”

“Ugh, why do you notice everything?” Enid whispered, then snapped her head toward Ajax. “Say something normal! Please!”
Ajax, sweating: “Uh… Go Chiefs?”
Meanwhile, Jake and Troy were practically vibrating with rage. “She’s lying because she doesn’t want you to know what that Bruno creep said. But I swear to God, if you don’t handle it, I will.”
“Same,” Troy barked, fists clenched. “Nobody talks about our sister like that. Not ever.”
Wednesday tilted her head, voice calm but lethal. “So there is something to find out.”
Enid groaned into her hands again. “Oh my god, just bury me alive now.”

Wednesday’s voice was ice as she scanned their faces. “You are all keeping something from me. I’ll give you three seconds to correct that mistake.”
Nobody spoke.
“One.”
Jake shifted, jaw tight.
“Two.”
Ajax blurted, panicking: “Okay okay okay! Bruno said something gross about Enid’s thighs and-“
Enid nearly tackled him. “Ajax!”

Wednesday’s head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. “Finish it.”
Ajax gulped. “I’d… rather not.”
“Then I’ll let you choose,” Wednesday said softly, each word precise. “Do you want to speak the words yourself, or do you want me to go take a knife from the kitchen and pry them out of Bruno until he cries for his ancestors?”
Enid groaned into her hands. “Oh my god, somebody stop her.”
Jake finally lost patience, voice sharp. “Fine! He said with thighs like hers she shouldn’t bother wearing pants, and he’d rather watch her bounce all night instead of the Super Bowl. There. Happy?”

Wednesday’s expression didn’t change, but the temperature of the house seemed to plummet. “Where is he now?”
Enid panicked, stepping forward. “Wait, babe, it’s not worth-“
But Wednesday was already walking away, spine straight, black braid swinging like a blade at her back.
“Okay, he’s dead” Ajax said, watching her go.

Bruno didn’t even see her coming until her shadow fell over him. He looked up from his drink, smirk wobbling. “Oh, hey. Listen, if you’re here to talk about that joke-“
Her hand slammed down on the table beside him, making the cups rattle. She leaned in close, face inches from his, her voice low.
“That was not a joke. That was a disgusting try to get dismembered by me, a vile act of harassment to my wife, and also the last sentence you’ll ever say in her presence. I should take your jaw apart for the insult alone, and for making her uncomfortable. But unfortunately for me, Enid has a tender heart, and she seems to think prison time would be an inconvenience.”

Bruno’s smirk disappeared. “Look, it was just… frat boy humor, I didn’t mean anything-“
Her voice sliced through him like a razor. “Humor implies amusement, and what you said was not amusing. It was degrading. To her, to me, to our marriage. But mostly to her, and you got lucky I wasn’t there when you said that disgusting gross sentence because what happens if I ever hear someone talking about her like that, is that that person is instantly dead, metaphorically and factually speaking.”
He gave a weak laugh, tugging at his collar. “Okay, okay, but please stop. You’re too… intense.”

Wednesday tilted her head, watching him with the detachment of a predator deciding if the prey was worth the kill. “You should be grateful I am only intense. Because what I want, Bruno…” She leaned forward, her voice a whisper soaked in venom. “…is to drive your face into this table until your teeth scatter across the floor, to snap each finger you’ve ever dared use to point at her and to leave you so broken that the mere thought of her makes you tremble, in a bad way.”
Bruno’s throat bobbed. “Jesus Christ.”

Her nails tapped the wood once and, for a fraction of a second, she imagined doing it: the sound of bone breaking, the warmth of blood on her knuckles.
She was literally going crazy, her most irrational part taking the lead in her mind; but then she saw Enid’s face in her thoughts: her bright eyes, her sweet voice, pleading with her to ‘please don’t kill anyone tonight’.
Wednesday’s hands stilled and she breathed once, clipped and deliberate, and forced the violence back down into the pit of her ribs.

When she spoke again, her voice was smooth, calm, deadly. “You’re lucky my wife is better than I am. She would weep if she knew I spilled someone’s blood in our house, and I find her tears intolerable.”
Bruno tried to laugh again, but it came out strangled.
“But you are leaving. Now. You will not look at her, you will not mention her name, you will not even think about her without feeling the chill of this moment crawling down your spine. Am I understood?”
Bruno scrambled to his feet, muttering, “Yeah… yeah, understood.”
She stepped aside, letting him scuttle toward the door. Then, just before he slipped out, she added, “If I hear of you again, even once… I will not restrain myself.”
——————
After Bruno left, Wednesday dived into the crowd again. Enid spotted her instantly. She always did. No matter how crowded the house was, no matter how many sweaty boys were yelling over snacks, her gaze went straight to Wednesday.
And right now? Wednesday looked… dangerous, even more than usual. Her posture was rigid, hands clenched too neatly at her sides, like she’d just shoved them back into control.
Enid abandoned her half-conversation with Divina and crossed the room in two strides. “Wens?” Her voice was low, careful.
Wednesday blinked at her, that predator focus softening only slightly. “He’s gone.”
“…What did you do?” Enid tilted her head, searching her face.
Wednesday’s lips curved in something that was not a smile. “Nothing permanent.”
Enid inhaled sharply. “Wednesday…”

“I wanted to break him.” Her voice was quiet, almost clinical. “Every instinct screamed for it. He disrespected you, sexualized you, he made you uncomfortable… but then I remembered the expression you wear whenever I return home from fencing practice with blood on my gloves or bruises sometimes. I find the sight of you distressed intolerable, so I refrained.”
Enid’s chest squeezed so hard it almost hurt. She touched Wednesday’s arm, grounding her. “You didn’t just refrain, you came back to me. That’s huge.”
Wednesday’s eyes flicked down to where Enid’s hand rested against her sleeve. “Do not praise me for choosing restraint. It was not noble, it was… necessity.”
“Uh, hello?” Enid’s voice softened into something between a scold and a plea. “It is noble, you put me first, ignoring your instincts, and I love you for that.”

Wednesday’s throat bobbed. She looked away, jaw tense. “I still wanted it.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t do it.” Enid leaned in until her forehead bumped against Wednesday’s temple. “That’s the part that matters to me.”
Wednesday let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her pulse was still thrumming with violent possibility, but Enid’s warmth pressed against her like sunlight, blunting the edges.

The whole party was roaring around them, but it felt like they were sealed inside their own little bubble.
Wednesday finally broke the silence. Her voice was calm, but it carried a quiet edge. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Enid blinked. “Tell you…?”
“That Bruno attempted to get to you with you in a way so grotesque it deserves capital punishment.” Her gaze narrowed, sharp enough to cut glass. “You and Ajax both hesitated, as though my reaction were more dangerous than his gross comment.”
Enid bit her lip. “Okay, well… in my defense, it kinda was? Like, you’re my perfect, terrifying wife, and I knew if you heard it, you’d go full feral Addams, which you almost did.” She poked her shoulder. “So technically, I was right.”

Wednesday’s eyes darkened. “Did you believe me incapable of restraint?”
Enid let out a nervous little laugh. “Weds, I’ve seen you decapitate a piñata at a birthday party for fun. Forgive me if I didn’t trust you to take a frat boy practical molestation calmly.”
Wednesday tilted her head, considering, then deadpanned: “Piñatas are designed for decapitation, Bruno is merely designed for suffering.”
Enid tried to stifle a giggle but failed miserably. “You see why I didn’t tell you now?”
Wednesday stepped closer, lowering her voice to something only Enid could hear. “Never protect me from your pain again, I would rather wrestle with my temper than live in ignorance.”
Enid’s smile softened, her chest tightening with affection. “Okay, I promise. No more keeping disgusting frat boy sentences to myself.”

At that exact moment, Luca’s voice bellowed across the room: “HEY! DID YOU TWO MAKE UP YET OR DO WE NEED TO PLAY SOME KISS-CAM MUSIC?”
Enid slapped her face into her hands with a groan while Wednesday turned slowly, and Luca immediately threw his hands up. “What? I was trying to lighten the mood!”
“Lighten your coffin.” Wednesday muttered, and Enid lost it, laughing into her palms.

Then, she clapped her hands and shouted over the living room noise.
“Okay, two people, up! My wife needs to sit and chill.”
The nearest pair of frat boys exchanged terrified looks and scrambled off the Addams-Sinclair couch like it had suddenly grown spikes. Enid tugged Wednesday down beside her with a grin, practically dragging her into the cushions.
“There,” Enid said triumphantly, curling up against her. “You can enjoy a bit of relaxation now. You’ve been glaring at people since you came back from your confrontation with… that rat. But it’s football time now, and lucky for you…” She gave a dramatic pause. “You’ve got the best coach.”

Wednesday arched one dark brow. “Do enlighten me on how barbaric men injuring each other could be educational.”
Enid gasped. “First of all, rude. Second, watch and learn.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping into mock seriousness. “So that thing where everyone piles up on one guy? That’s called a tackle. The goal is to get the ball all the way down there-“ she pointed dramatically at the TV “-without, you know, being murdered on the way.”
“That would be a far more compelling outcome.” Wednesday murmured, though her posture had eased as Enid’s hand stayed warm on her arm.
“Focus, wife,” Enid teased. “See the guy running? That’s a quarterback. He’s like… the goth of the team.”
Wednesday turned her head slowly. “Explain.”

“He’s broody, he holds all the responsibility, and if he messes up, the entire crowd screams like banshees. And he’s basically untouchable.“
The corner of Wednesday’s mouth twitched. “I see. And which position would you claim as your own?”
Enid thought for a moment, then grinned. “Cheerleader, of course. But, like… specifically your cheerleader.”
From the other couch, Yoko groaned. “God, you two are nauseating.”
“Yeah… stop flirting, you’re being so cringe right now.” Bianca agreed.
“Shh,” Enid shot back, not even looking away from Wednesday. “She’s learning.” She reached for Wednesday’s hand, lacing their fingers together and gently rubbing the back of Wednesday’s hand as she narrated the game.

From across the room, the Sinclair brothers were hovering, pointing at players and yelling things like, “No, that’s offside!” or “He fumbled it, bro!” but Enid shushed them every time, “Quiet! My wife needs her silence.”
Wednesday’s dark eyes followed the quarterback on screen with an intensity that could scare small children. After a moment, she muttered, voice low but sharp: “Why would anyone voluntarily wear padding and risk spinal trauma for a leather egg? It’s illogical.”
Enid chuckled. “It’s tradition, strategy, and sometimes… pride?” She gave Wednesday’s hand a squeeze.

“Pride in what? Destroying the fragile?” Wednesday’s lips twitched with mock horror. “I would never cheer for such barbarism.”
“You might,” Enid teased, “if it means we get to sit on this couch together.” She leaned closer, resting her head against Wednesday’s shoulder.
Wednesday glanced down at her, expression unchanging. “If I am to observe this chaos responsibly, they should institute new rules.”
“What rules?” Enid perked up.
“Anyone who makes more than three guttural noises or touches the ball without protective gear is subject to immediate execution.”
Enid snorted. “Wow, you’re really taking the football match seriously.”

Wednesday continued, unbothered. “Also, the player wearing number seven, his helmet is unnecessary. Clearly, his cranial density is sufficient to withstand any impact. The referees are incompetent, obviously, but that’s expected.”
Enid laughed so hard she nearly fell onto Wednesday’s lap. “Okay, coach, but don’t get too serious, these poor boys are trying.”
Wednesday gave a single, stiff nod. “I am always serious. They may continue only because I am restrained by my adoration for you.”
Enid squeezed her hand again. “You’re ridiculous, and I love it.”

Then, she peered around the living room, to see that every snack bowl was nearly empty, except for a few stray pretzels at the corner of the table, so she knew she had to refill them before the house devolved into a famine.
“I’m going to get more snacks,” she announced, holding up an empty bowl.
Wednesday immediately tensed beside her. “I’ll come with you.”
Enid turned, giving her a patient, almost exasperated look. “No, you stay here and relax.”
“Relax?” Wednesday repeated, eyebrow arching. “You do realize my definition of relaxation may differ from human conventions.”
“You don’t need to define it, you just need to not move,” Enid said firmly, patting her on the shoulder. “I know you can’t conceive the thought of being away from me, but I got this.”
“Stop making fun of me.” Wednesday said, crossing her arms.
“I won’t” Enid said cheerfully, going away with the empty bowls.

Almost immediately, Agnes, who had been lurking nearby under the pretense of supervising the party setup, seized the moment. “Oh! I’ll just… sit here then,” she said brightly, sliding into Enid’s now-vacated spot with an easy, confident grace, stretching slightly so her knee brushed Wednesday’s. She smiled brightly at Wednesday, fingers brushing lightly over the edge of her hand. “I hope you don’t mind me taking the seat. It looked… more comfortable than standing around.”
Wednesday turned her head slowly, eyes narrowing, her voice deceptively calm.
“Miss… Sinclair’s friend’s sister, I will tolerate some things in this house tonight: drunken shouting, desecration of chips with neon orange dust, the barbaric enthusiasm over this so-called Super Bowl.”
She tilted her hand ever so slightly away, the movement razor-sharp in its precision.

“But,” she continued, voice dropping like a guillotine, “what I will not tolerate is your hand attempting diplomacy with mine. Touch me again, and you will leave with fewer fingers than you arrived with.”
Agnes blinked, her cheeks flushing, then let out a nervous laugh. “Sorry… totally, um, unintentional.”
Wednesday’s stare didn’t flicker. “Intentional or not, control your limbs, they appear to be wandering like vagrants without purpose. I suggest you tether them before I do it for you.”
Agnes shrank back slightly, shifting her hands firmly into her lap, her smile faltering. “…Okay.”

“So…” Agnes started again, voice pitched sweet and low. “About that article you wrote. It was… amazing.”
Wednesday didn’t turn her head, but the corner of her lip curved into something faint and sharp. “How fortunate, I’ve been told my writing is a form of natural selection: it eliminates the weak-minded before the second paragraph.”
Agnes laughed a little too quickly, clearly mistaking the comment for banter. “No, I mean it. You’re brilliant. And next year, when I’m here, I want to study exactly what you’re studying. Horror lit, gothic lit, all of it. Maybe even, you know… study together sometimes?”

Finally, Wednesday shifted her gaze toward her, flat and cutting. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t plan my academic schedule around strangers who loiter on my furniture uninvited.”
Agnes’s smile flickered, but she pressed on, brushing her knee against Wednesday’s like she was testing waters. “You’re fun to hang out with at parties.”
Wednesday’s stare dropped deliberately to the contact, then back up to Agnes’s face. Her voice came out like a scalpel.
“Listen carefully: if your knee touches mine again, I’ll assume you’ve volunteered it for amputation. I have no shortage of blades.”

Agnes froze, yanking her leg back, but tried to salvage dignity with a nervous laugh. “…I was just being friendly.”
Wednesday tilted her head, deadpan. “I already have a friend. She is currently in the kitchen, hoarding chips like a raccoon. She also happens to be my wife.” she said, showing her left hand’s ring finger.
Agnes flushed scarlet, fumbling for words. “Wow, you’re so loyal… I didn’t mean-“
Wednesday cut her off, cool and absolute. “Stop whatever you’re doing, then.”
Without another word, she turned back to the game on TV, her expression unreadable, but her posture sharpened.

Agnes, still flustered from being verbally sliced to ribbons, regrouped. She folded her hands in her lap and tried a different angle.
“Okay, I will,” she said carefully, “But, really, what you wrote about Gothic architecture, how it reflects human fears… I thought about that when I was reading Wuthering Heights last month. Like, it’s not just a creepy house, right? The whole building feels like it’s suffocating the people inside. Kind of like the way fear and obsession suffocate them.”
Wednesday’s head tilted, her gaze sharpening. For once, her silence wasn’t dismissal but interest.
“Most adolescents who attempt to discuss Brontë reduce it to ‘ghosts are scary’, but you appear to have the faintest grasp of nuance. Continue.”

Agnes brightened. “Exactly! And, okay, this might be overreaching, but I think the idea of the house as alive, it’s like the characters are trapped in the ribs of a monster, you know? That’s why everything feels claustrophobic.”
Wednesday leaned back slightly, considering. “A predictable metaphor, but not inaccurate, since the students I typically encounter mistake Dracula for a romance novel. They really deserve to be staked.”
Agnes laughed, relieved, her nerves loosening as the conversation shifted into something almost natural. “Yeah, that’s why I’m excited to study here, with you. You don’t just read the stories… you dissect them, bleed them out for meaning. I want that. I want…” She hesitated, then leaned just a little closer, her shoulder brushing Wednesday’s. “…a mentor like you.”

Wednesday didn’t shift away. Her expression was still sharp, but her eyes were distant, pulled toward the screen as if mulling over Agnes’s words in the context of literature rather than intent. “Mentorship is an unglamorous process. Endless reading, ruthless feedback, and the possibility of tears. None of which I have the patience for, unless your papers were truly exceptional.”
Agnes bit her lip, emboldened by the fact that Wednesday hadn’t moved. She let her hand hover close to Wednesday’s on the couch cushion, pinky brushing against her knuckles in what she thought was subtle.
Wednesday didn’t flinch, merely because she didn’t even notice. Her mind was elsewhere, calculating some point about monstrous architecture and metaphorical bones. Her voice stayed smooth, detached.
Agnes, heart pounding, leaned another inch closer. To her, this was intimacy. To Wednesday, it was simply thought.

Enid balanced two fresh bowls of chips against her hip and walked back toward the couch. She was humming, cheeks pink from the warmth of the kitchen, and then she froze.
A girl, on her couch, leaning far too close to Wednesday, shoulder brushing hers, whispering something with a smile that was way too flirty to pass off as casual. And worst of all, Wednesday wasn’t moving away.
The bowls hit the coffee table with a thud. Enid’s jaw dropped open, then snapped shut so fast it was a miracle she didn’t chip a fang. She spun on her heel, marched over to the other couch where Ajax and Yoko were slouched, and hissed like an animal ready to pounce.

“Okay. What the actual hell am I looking at?”
Ajax blinked up at her, confused. “Uh… the Super Bowl?”
“No!” Enid whisper-yelled, throwing a hand toward Wednesday and Agnes. “That! That little goth-wannabe parasite practically on top of my wife!”
“She’s not on top of-“ Ajax tried.
Yoko followed her pointing finger, smirk tugging at her mouth. “Wow. She’s bold, I’ll give her that.”
Enid’s voice rose an octave. “BOLD? She’s trespassing in my marriage!”
Ajax held up his hands. “Maybe she’s just asking about the game?”

“She’s not asking about the game, Ajax! She’s asking about my wife’s- ugh, I don’t even know, brain cells? Hair? Dark hot academic aura?!” Enid clutched her head. “And Wednesday’s just sitting there letting it happen. I swear, if she lets her brush her hand one more time, I’ll-“
Yoko leaned forward, way too entertained. “You’ll what?”
“I’ll end her,” Enid snapped, her voice shaking with the effort of not yelling across the room. “I’ll make it crystal clear that her weird little crush is not welcome here.”
Ajax shifted uncomfortably, clearly wanting no part of this but also riveted. “Uh, maybe you should talk to Wednesday first before you… you know… anything?”

Enid whipped around, her eyes blazing. “Oh, I will talk to my wife. But first, I’m talking to you two because I need witnesses when I explode. That girl is not going to live to see halftime if she keeps trying to make heart-eyes at the love of my life.”
Yoko raised an eyebrow. “Wow, you really are feral.”
Enid slapped a hand over her chest. “Of course I’m feral! That’s my wife! My wife!”
Across the room, Wednesday tilted her head toward Agnes, completely oblivious to the scene unraveling behind her.

“You! Help me make her jealous. Come on, act like you’re flirting with me.” Enid told Ajax, practically yelling.
Ajax blinked. “Girl… I’m gay. She won’t buy it.”
Enid leaned closer, eyes sparkling with mischief. “No, trust me. She’s still kinda jealous of you anyway.”
Ajax leaned back, raising his hands in surrender. “Ookay, I’m gonna pass then, I don’t want to be murdered by your scary wife.”
Yoko, meanwhile, leaned toward Enid. “Well… if you really want someone to fake-flirt, I could help.”
Enid’s eyes widened. “You’d… do it? But how?”
Yoko smirked instantly. “Easy fix: sit on my lap.”
Enid whipped her head toward her. “What? No. Ew. I’m not sitting on your lap, I’m a married woman, and I don’t want to.”
“Then just my knee,” Yoko said smoothly, patting it like an invitation. “Half measure, just enough for her to go even more feral than you.”
Enid groaned, but after a beat of silence she muttered, “…Okay, but only because she’s being rude.” She carefully perched sideways on Yoko’s knee, like a cat testing out a new perch. “This is so fake, I look ridiculous and I bet she won’t even notice.”

Across the room, Agnes was mid-sentence, explaining the subtle symbolism of vampires in gothic literature. But Wednesday’s eyes caught something far more important, and her gaze darkened.
Without warning, she cut Agnes off mid-word, getting up and walking very quickly.
She stopped right in front of them, tilting her head.
“Care to explain why my wife is sitting on your lap, Tanaka?”
The tone wasn’t raised, but it carried enough venom to silence half the frat boys behind her. Yoko, usually smug, suddenly looked like she was debating whether survival was worth her sense of humor.

“Uh,” Yoko began, weakly. “Team spirit?”
“Wrong answer,” Wednesday said, voice low and deadly. Her eyes flicked to Enid, softening only the barest fraction. “Explain yourself.”
Enid, cheeks flushed both from the wine and her bubbling jealousy, scrambled. “It’s not what it looks like! I just wanted attention, from you… and Yoko just said it’d make you jealous, and… and actually I wasn’t sitting on her lap, just her knee, I mean, actually not even sitting, that was just - like - a cat on the corner of furniture, okay? Totally fake, super dumb-“
Wednesday’s glare whipped back to Yoko. “You enjoyed it. Didn’t you?”
Yoko held up her hands. “Whoa, whoa, I didn’t-“
“Liar.” Wednesday took a step closer. “You smirked, I saw it. You relished, you revelled on the fact my wife was on you.”
“Wednesday!” Yoko winced. “I smirk at everything! And you know I’m the biggest shipper of you two!”

“If you find yourself still alive after tonight, Yoko, it will be just because my wife asked nicely.” Wednesday said, calmly.
Enid jumped in before this could escalate into a blood feud. “Weds, stop! It was my idea, I was mad because that Agnes girl was flirting and having physical contact with you and you weren’t even moving away and I-“
Wednesday turned back to her, momentary shock flickering across her face. “Physical contact? Agnes was still flirting with me? That was flirting? I was… completely lost in gothic fiction talk, I didn’t even-“
Enid’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull. “Are you kidding me?! She was practically stroking your hand like you were the dark princess of her broody fantasies!”

Wednesday frowned. “Well, at least I didn’t sit on her lap or let her sit on mine.”
Enid blinked at her like she’d just grown a second head.
“I WOULD HOPE SO,” she blurted, hands flying up, “or she’d be dead in a minute. Like, I would personally end her. No way. Not happening. She doesn’t even get to think about it.”
“Okay, okay, understood. But don’t ever use any of Tanaka’s body parts as a chair again. If you need attention, you come and ask me. If you need a seat, you do the same thing.”
“Okay, Weds, I’m sorry. I could use a seat right now.”
Wednesday’s dark eyes narrowed, then softened as she sat down and patted her lap deliberately. “Then sit.”

Enid hesitated only a second before climbing onto her, settling in as Wednesday adjusted her grip to hold her firmly in place.
“There,” Wednesday said, as if it were the most logical arrangement in the world. “Much better, you’re exactly where you belong now.”
Enid melted instantly, her cheeks heating up as she whispered just loud enough for her wife to hear: “Guess I’ll stay here forever then.”
Wednesday’s smile was tiny but full of warmth. “Good, I wasn’t planning on letting you move.”

Divina appeared right in that moment, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.
“Umm,” she said slowly, “someone told me someone was sitting on my girlfriend?”
Yoko froze mid-sip of soda and nearly inhaled the straw. “Babe, it wasn’t like that!”
Wednesday’s head tilted. “Very well, explain yourself again, to your girlfriend this time.”
Yoko flailed so hard her soda almost flew. “Okay, listen! Enid just wanted to make Wednesday jealous, and I thought, ‘hey, quick fix, sit on me’. It wasn’t romantic, just dumb and fake!”
Divina blinked once. “…You told your best friend to sit on your lap?”
“It was my knee!” Yoko shrieked. “My knee!”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “Semantics won’t save you.”
“Will you shut up?!” Yoko was desperate.

Divina turned her gaze to Enid. “And you agreed to this?”
Enid, bright red but stubborn, nodded. “Only for like six seconds! And it immediately worked, so technically, mission accomplished.”
“Mission breakup, maybe.” Wednesday muttered.
Divina crossed her arms tighter. “Honestly, I leave you alone for five minutes and somehow you’ve turned this into a telenovela.”
“No,” Yoko said, pointing at Enid. “She turned it into a telenovela.”
Enid’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me? You’re the one who said, ‘sit on me, instant jealousy hack!’ I was just trying to prove a point!”

Divina’s eyes narrowed. “And what point, exactly, were you trying to prove?”
Enid fidgeted, then huffed. “That Wednesday wasn’t paying attention to me because Miss Gothic Wannabe over there was getting way too cozy. So yeah, maybe I panicked.”
Divina dragged a hand down her face, pointing at Yoko. “You realize how dumb this sounds, right? You told your best friend to sit on you because… jealousy science?”
Yoko threw her arms out. “Babe, it was tactical! Genius, even!“
Divina’s glare could’ve burned a hole through the wall. “You call it tactical, I call it creatively letting someone freeload on your lap when you already have a girlfriend.”
“It was my knee!” Yoko cried again, like the distinction mattered. “My knee isn’t cheating!”
“Oh my god.” Divina looked skyward like she was asking for strength. “Imagine having to say that sentence out loud.”

Before Yoko could fire back, Luca suddenly burst into the room, face red and arms flailing.
“HELLO?? We’ve got a problem!”
Everyone froze and Enid’s stomach sank. “What now?”
“Some of my dorm boys!” Luca pointed toward the kitchen like it was a crime scene. “They’re accusing me of rigging the bets! Just because I’m winning! Can you believe that?”
Ajax blinked. “…Did you rig the bets?”
Luca clutched his chest in mock betrayal. “Wow. I come to you with my soul wounded, and you hit me with slander?!”
“Oh, come on, they’re accusing him of faking the bets! HIM! Like he’d even know how to do that. He barely passed high school math!”
“HEY!” Luca barked, pointing dramatically. “Unnecessary.”

Wednesday let her grip on Enid go, making her standing up from her, and stood slowly, eyes narrowing. “Take me to them.”
The seven boys were gathered near the kitchen, arms crossed, muttering in that ‘bro code way’ that made everything sound worse. When Wednesday appeared, silence fell.
She didn’t even raise her voice, but the room chilled. “Listen carefully. My brother-in-law is an idiot.”
“HEY!” Luca squeaked again, but Enid patted his arm like, ‘she means it with love’.
Wednesday’s gaze sharpened. “But he is not dishonest. If you want to accuse someone of cheating, do so with proof. Otherwise, you are nothing but a flock of squawking pigeons, desperate for crumbs of relevance. You accuse him again, and I will personally see to it that none of you ever enjoy a party on this campus again.”

The boys shifted uneasily, one of them whispering, “…Did she just call us pigeons?”
“Yes,” Wednesday replied coldly. “Filthy, loud, disease-ridden pigeons. Now behave, or leave.”
Silence. Then, one by one, the boys backed off, muttering excuses.
Enid melted instantly, hugging Wednesday’s arm with a grin she couldn’t hide. “Oh my god, you do care about my family.”
Wednesday’s jaw tightened, though her ears went faintly pink. “Don’t mistake my actions for sentimentality, I merely refuse to have my living room tainted by false accusations.”
“Uh-huh,” Enid teased, resting her head on her shoulder. “So what’s for breakfast tomorrow, sister-in-law protector?”
“Peace, I hope, since that idiotic force of your brother will be out of here.”

Before she could retreat to her couch again, five large shadows loomed over her.
“…What do you-“ Wednesday started flatly, eyeing them.
Mason put a hand on his heart. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed. Defending our dumb little brother like that? You’re officially the glue holding this family together.”
Nico sniffled loudly. “I think I’m gonna cry.”
Adam slapped Luca’s back so hard he stumbled. “Bro, she called you her brother-in-law in front of everyone, that’s like… being knighted by the Queen.”
Jake and Troy exchanged a look, then both lunged forward like linebackers. “GROUP HUG!”
Wednesday barely had time to hiss before all five Sinclairs were around her like a human wall of muscles and chaos. Enid was doubled over laughing.

“Release me this instant or I’ll poison your protein powder.” Wednesday growled, muffled somewhere in the hug pile.
“You hear that?” Troy beamed. “She’s threatening us with love, she is one of us.”
Luca wiped an imaginary tear. “I’ve never been prouder.”
Finally, the brothers let her go, leaving Wednesday standing stiff as a statue, braid crooked, shirt rumpled. She smoothed herself out with dignity, even as Enid ran up and kissed her cheek.
“My wife, protector of idiots,” Enid teased.
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “You are enjoying this too much.”
“Way too much,” Enid confirmed.

Just when they were lost in each other’s eyes, Agnes came bounding, scanning the room until her look landed on Wednesday. “Here you are, Wednesday! I was looking for you, we were talking about-“
“We were done.” Wednesday said flatly.
“No, we weren’t?” Agnes tilted her head, frowning in genuine confusion.
“We were,” Wednesday repeated, her voice low, steady, and absolutely final. “Since my wife pointed out your flirtatious behavior. I thought I was being very clear with you.”
Agnes froze, a blush creeping across her cheeks. “Oh… I didn’t mean-“

“Yes, you did,” Wednesday interrupted, stepping closer. Her shadow fell over Agnes like a slow-moving storm. “And now, you will leave me alone. I have no interest in continuing this… whatever you think this is. I find your views on gothic literature fascinating and interesting, but everything else? Not of my liking. Maybe when you’ll attend this college in a couple of months we can talk about it again, but not right now.”
Agnes blinked, trying to regain composure. “I was just asking about your paper! Because I liked it!”
“Your hands, your words, your eyes, none of it is relevant to my wife’s work. I know she’s an amazing writer and analyzer, but keep your hands to yourself next time.” Enid said, without holding back anymore.
Agnes finally raised her hands in surrender. “Right, okay, noted.“
As Agnes retreated, Enid leaned in and whispered, “You know, watching you handle her like that? Very hot.”
Wednesday only smirked faintly, her arm brushing against Enid’s in silent acknowledgment.

Before anyone could catch their breath, the Sinclair brothers barreled over to Wednesday and Enid, shouting like they’d just discovered buried treasure.
“WE’RE GOING ON VACATION WITH YOU TWO THIS SUMMER!” Nico yelled, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Enid blinked. “Wait… what?”
“Yeah! You have to come!” Mason added, eyes sparkling.
Wednesday’s braid twitched. “Excuse me, what do you mean you’re going with us? We aren’t-“
Ajax, who had been leaning casually against the wall, froze, his eyes went wide, and a high-pitched squeal escaped him. “OH MY GOD, YES! YES! SUMMER TRIP WITH ALL THE SINCLAIR BROTHERS??”
Adam groaned. “Dude, we love you, but we weren’t talking to y-“

“Too late!” he yelled, bouncing in place. “I’m gonna go and tell the rest of the friend group! And also… I may have low-key been dreaming about this day for a while!”
Wednesday spun on him. “Please. Stop.”
“What can I do?!” Ajax admitted, practically glowing. “They’re all amazing! I’ve had a minor heart attack thinking about them at the beach!”
Enid groaned even louder, hiding a laugh. “You are officially the most ridiculous person alive.”
The Sinclair brothers didn’t even notice Ajax’s fangirling; they were too busy debating whether they’d need sunscreen OR matching t-shirts.
Wednesday muttered, more to herself than anyone else, “I know that if I agree to this, that trip is going to ruin me.”
Enid squeezed her hand. “Relax… at least we’d have popcorn and each other. Probably?”

Wednesday crossed her arms. “I do not want to go on any summer vacation with six huge brothers and your-“ She jerked her head toward Ajax- “fan club.”
Nico grinned, unfazed. “Oh, come on, sis-in-law! It’ll be fun! Beach, hiking, maybe a haunted house or two. You love haunted houses!”
Mason leaned in, arms wide. “And think about it… we’ll cook, we’ll clean, you won’t have to lift a finger. Just come. For Enid!”
Wednesday’s glare sharpened. “For Enid?” She looked down at her wife, who was grinning like she’d just won the lottery. “And if I say no?”
Enid tilted her head innocently. “Then… you’d be denying your wife an epic summer adventure with her brothers and wife? You wouldn’t do that, would you?”
Wednesday’s jaw tightened, but she looked at her hand in Enid’s, feeling that tiny tug in her chest that never failed.

“Come on, Wednesday! We’ll see Mason’s abs, Nico’s back, Troy’s-“ Ajax started.
“I do not care for a single thing you just listed, nor for those you were about to add.”
“But… the trip will be entertaining! You can watch my brothers being complete idiots and judge them aaaall day, for a week straight.” Enid tried.
Wednesday’s lips twitched. “Entertainment value is not a compelling reason to trap myself in a house with those… people.”
Mason rolled his eyes. “Yes it is! You’ll laugh! You’ll relax! You’ll… tolerate us for a week!”
“I do not laugh.”
Ajax jumped in, flailing. “And you’ll get to watch all the brothers in swimsuits and all in one place! I mean, come on, it’s a dream!”
“Dream? I’d say nightmare.”

Enid kissed Wednesday’s cheek softly. “So… maybe one week? For me?”
Wednesday sighed, then her lips curved into the faintest, resigned smirk. “Fine, one week. But only because it’s for you.”
The room erupted. Nico whooped, Mason high-fived Ajax, and even Enid had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud.
Wednesday muttered under her breath: “This vacation is going to be my undoing.”
Enid just smiled and held her hand a little tighter. “It’ll be so fun, Weds!”
—————-
Half an hour later, the final whistle blew, and the living room erupted in groans, cheers, and the clatter of chip bowls hitting the floor. Everyone was talking at once, waving slips of paper, trying to claim victory.
“I had the first touchdown right!”
“Yeah, but I called the interception in the third quarter-“
“No, I won, my score was closer-“
Wednesday, who had been sitting with arms folded and eyes narrowed for the last five minutes, finally stood. “Silence.”
The room froze. She looked around slowly, letting the weight of her glare do most of the work. “All this shrieking for scraps of paper. Pathetic. There is only one winner tonight.”

Mason checked over the crumpled notes one last time, reluctantly raising his voice. “Uh… she’s right, Luca’s the only one who actually called the final score.”
A chorus of groans and curses broke out.
Luca, who’d been slouched in the corner pretending not to care, sat up straight. “Wait, seriously? I won?”
“Yeah,” Troy admitted, rubbing his forehead. “Exact number, dead-on.”
For a second Luca just blinked. Then he grinned so wide it nearly split his face. “Oh my god, I won. Everyone heard that, right? I WON!”
The room booed in unison, but it didn’t matter: Luca was already on his feet, fist pumping like he’d just been drafted to the NFL himself. “Call me Nostradamus! Call me the prophet of football!”
“Don’t push it,” Adam muttered, though he was smirking.

One of the frat boys finally sighed. “Alright, fair’s fair. And… I guess, Luca, you can come back to the dorm, this party was amazing!”
“Yes!” Luca shouted. “Home sweet home, baby! I’m back! Even if I liked staying here for like a day. Five stars, sis!”
Enid laughed, shaking her head. “Wow. My brother gets kicked out one day, and twenty-four hours later, he’s a sports legend.”
“Legend is a bit too much,” Wednesday muttered. “Enjoy your room while it lasts.”
He beamed like she’d given him a crown.
—————
By the time the last frat boy stumbled out of their house - carrying a plate of nachos like it was treasure - the place looked like a battlefield: cups on every surface, chip crumbs ground into the carpet, someone’s mysterious shoe in the hallway, and a sticky puddle that Pancake had chosen as her new kingdom.
Enid clapped her hands, bouncing on her toes. “Okay, team! Operation Clean Up is officially a go. If we all work together, we can have this place spotless before sunrise.”
Ajax flopped onto the couch dramatically. “Or we could burn it down and start fresh?”
“No flames in my living room!” Enid shot back, pointing at him. “We clean.” She grabbed a garbage bag and started picking up cups.

Yoko snatched another bag, trailing after her. “I’ll help, bestie. I can handle trash duty too.”
Wednesday, bent over wringing out a mop, slowly raised her head. Her eyes locked on Yoko like a hawk spotting prey. “No. You will not.”
Yoko froze mid-step. “…What?”
“You are not allowed to do the same chore as my wife. She picks up cups, you do something else, and if she needs help I’ll be the one to provide it.”
“Come on, Wednesday,” Yoko said, indignant. “I already apologized! Don’t tell me my knee will haunt you forever.”
Wednesday straightened, resting both hands on the mop like it was a weapon. Her voice dropped, low and lethal. “No, you didn’t get it. I will haunt YOU forever.”
Silence fell in the house, and then Yoko made a strangled noise. “…Okay, got it now.”

Enid burst into laughter, nearly dropping her trash bag. She bounced over to Wednesday, tugged at her sleeve, and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “Babe, chill. We’re gonna discuss it later, alright? Let’s just clean up now, I’ll be pick up the cups with Yoko now.”
Wednesday’s glare softened instantly at the kiss, like someone had just disarmed a bomb with glitter, and she gave a sharp little nod.
Around them, the room collectively gasped.
Bianca, sitting cross-legged on the arm of a chair, shook her head slowly, like she’d just witnessed a miracle. “I still can’t believe this, Wednesday follows Enid’s orders instantly, but if literally anyone else tells her something simple - like, ‘hey, can you pass me the water?’ - she looks at you like you’ve declared war on her entire family.”
“That’s so true! And then,” Divina added, “she says nobody can give her orders, because she’s not our minion.”
Wednesday shot them both a withering glare.
Enid only giggled, looped her arm around Wednesday’s, and tugged her toward the overflowing table of dirty plates. “C’mon, scary wife, time to prove to the world how domestic we are.”

They started cleaning again, but Ajax made no move to get up; instead, he leaned back, propped his feet on the table, and sighed. “You’re doing good, guys! I’m doing emotional support duty.”
Bianca lobbed a crumpled napkin at his head. “You’re doing nothing.”
Mason, meanwhile, apparently taking “helping” to mean “dramatic performance,” had commandeered the vacuum cleaner. He marched it across the living room with an exaggerated enthusiasm, yelling, “FEAR NOT! THE CRUMBS SHALL FALL!” The vacuum screeched louder than the TV had during the game.
“Turn that thing down before my eardrums implode,” Wednesday snapped, but Mason only gave her a thumbs-up and yelled, “CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF JUSTICE!”

Meanwhile, Luca had vanished suspiciously. Enid found him crouched by the kitchen counter, sneaking cold wings straight from the foil tray.
“Are you serious?” she hissed, hands on her hips. “We’re cleaning, not eating the evidence.”
He shrugged, cheeks full. “What? I’m keeping morale up.”
Troy and Nico were trying to fold the couch blankets together, but every time one pulled one way, the other yanked the opposite direction. Within minutes they were growling. Pancake, ever opportunistic, leapt into the middle of the blanket like a queen on her throne.
Divina and Yoko had started sorting recyclables in the kitchen, except Yoko was mostly throwing everything in one bin and Divina kept chasing after her correcting it. “Plastic! Not paper, plastic!”
“I swear all cups look the same after a party!” Yoko shouted.
——————-
When the last chip crumb had been vacuumed, the Sinclair bros started their noisy goodbyes, the friend group dramatically wiped out the sweat from all of that physical activity, and Pancake finally passed out belly-up on the rug.
When they all got out of the house, only Luca lingered by the door, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pocket, chewing the inside of his cheek.
“Not leaving?” Wednesday asked flatly, folding a dish towel with militant precision.
He gave her a crooked half-smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, in a sec. Just… I think I have to thank you two. Not only for the fact you let me have your party here, which was amazing by the way, but also… thank you for defending me, Wednesday. To be honest, I… I thought you hated me.”

Wednesday tilted her head slowly, studying him like a specimen. “That’s inaccurate, I find you irritating, reckless, and profoundly loud. But hate requires energy, and you don’t inspire that much in me.”
Luca laughed once, a quick nervous bark, then looked down. “Okay, but… that meant a lot to me.” He looked up then, eyes wet but defiant. “I almost started crying right there, so… really, thanks.”
Wednesday’s expression softened by maybe a millimeter. She set down the towel, stepped closer, and said in a low, measured voice: “Do not mistake my tolerance for affection. It’s just… Enid loves you, and therefore, you are mine to defend.”
Luca blinked hard, then sniffed. “That’s… literally the nicest thing you ever said to me.”
Enid rushed in, hugging both of them at once, muffling, “Oh my god, two of my favorite people are bonding, I’m gonna cry.”
Wednesday stiffened in the hug like usual, muttering, “Don’t exaggerate. He’s barely top twenty.”
Luca laughed properly this time, wiping his face on his sleeve. “Fair enough, still counts.”

The door clicked shut, silence falling over the house at last.
Enid sighed, leaned against the door, then looked at Wednesday with a crooked smile. “Sooo… technically, tonight makes you officially the Sinclair brothers’ favorite non-blood-related member now. Like, you probably top married uncles and aunts and stuff. Congrats, wife.”
Wednesday’s lip curled faintly. “A dubious honor. But if it pleases you, I’ll accept it.”
Enid’s grin grew wider. “It does, a lot.”
Wednesday gave the faintest nod, then reached for her hand. “Then it was worth it.”

“You know,” Enid murmured, “I think I owe you a pretty big thank-you. You know, for letting that party in here, defending Luca, surviving my brothers’ chaos once again without killing anyone…”
Wednesday tilted her head, eyes still trained on the coffee table clutter. “I still nearly committed homicide in front of a huge part of your bloodline.”
Enid giggled, nuzzling closer. “Still impressive you were able not to do that. I’m very proud of you.”
Wednesday’s eyes flickered, just a little softer. “…Your pride is adequate compensation.”

Enid shifted, turning so she could look Wednesday in the eye, her grin sly. “Still, I think you deserve something more. So, here’s my deal: you get unlimited creepy reunions with your family. Your uncle, your grandma, your cousins… however many times you wanna sit around talking about dead things and playing whatever those terrifying card games are with them, I won’t complain, and I’ll actually participate if you’ll want me to.”
Wednesday blinked, actually caught off guard. “…You would willingly subject yourself to that?”
Enid nodded, solemn but playful. “Yup, as many creepy Addams reunions as you want. Consider it my gift to my very scary, very protective, very hot wife.”

Wednesday studied her for a long, unreadable beat. Then she said flatly, “That is the most disturbingly romantic thing you’ve ever promised me.”
Enid smirked. “Good, means I’m learning your language.”
Wednesday’s lips twitched upward, the barest curve of a smile. “You are.”
Enid beamed, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Best wife ever.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Wednesday replied, tugging her closer until Enid was curled entirely against her.
The rest of the night, the only sound in the Addams-Sinclair house was Pancake’s snoring and the soft hum of two wives finally, blissfully, alone.

When they arrived to their bedroom, changed in their pajamas, Wednesday’s eyes were fixed on some invisible point in the shadows. “Can… can I talk to you about something?”
Enid softened, even more than usual. “Of course, Weds. You can tell me anything, at any time.”
“She was insufferable,” Wednesday started, voice low and measured. “Her attempts at flirtation were laughable and disrespectful towards our marriage at the same time. And yet… she was intelligent, she had actually read my work, and not superficially. She noticed details even my professors overlooked.”
Enid, already curled against her, stilled a little at that confession. “You’re talking about Agnes, right? So… she impressed you?”
Wednesday’s lip curled, the closest she came to a shrug. “Intellectually. But that is where it ends.”

Enid sat up just slightly, her expression warm even through the faint pout tugging at her mouth. “I’m sure you’ll find a friend who actually gets it, like who’ll read your dark perfectly written essays and talk about dead poets and shadowy castles without trying to get between your legs.”
Wednesday arched a brow at her choice of phrasing, but Enid only pressed on, reaching for her hand. “Until then, and even then, and forever after, I’m your number one fan. Creepy papers, gothic rants, blood metaphors and all. I’ll read everything, compliment your writing, listening to what you have to say about anything you study and like.”
A silence stretched between them, soft and heavy. Wednesday stared at her for a moment too long, as though dissecting the sincerity. Finally, she squeezed Enid’s hand back, her voice almost a whisper.

“I suppose there are worse fates… than having a beautiful woman fangirl over me.”
Enid laughed, leaning in to kiss her temple. “Not just fangirling. Loving, always.”
Wednesday allowed the kiss, her gaze dark but softened. “Forever, then.”

Chapter Text

By May, the campus and the library had basically become Wednesday’s home. She haunted the library at all hours, drifting between towers of books, and she’d memorized every creaky step on the way to the lecture halls; even professors had stopped being surprised when she was already seated before they unlocked the classroom doors, and they had eventually started to almost treat her as if she was part of the teacher body.
The exhaustion wasn’t obvious to everyone: Wednesday didn’t slouch, she didn’t yawn, and she didn’t complain. But she’d gone from “intimidating presence” to “living myth.” Everyone whispered about the pale girl who seemed to exist in every classroom at once; also, as it was not bad enough, more than once people had mistaken her for a young faculty member.

“Excuse me, Professor Addams-Sinclair, do you know if we have to cite secondary sources for the essay?” a nervous boy asked one morning, the first of many.
“Yes.”
She didn’t correct him. She never did.
Wednesday’s calendar was packed with back-to-back lectures, tutoring sessions she hadn’t agreed to but somehow got stuck with, and her own papers, three of which she’d already written weeks early. She walked through campus like a storm cloud, scaring off questions with a single glare, yet people kept approaching. She couldn’t even read on the quad without someone interrupting to ask if she would review their thesis statement.

Her fingers cramped from writing, her eyes burned from screens; even her cello practice sounded flat to her ears, like the bow was dragging over stone.
And at home?
That was worse.
Enid would bounce into their living room with snacks, or flop onto the couch with a dramatic sigh to announce a new episode of some terrible series they would always watch together, or even crawl onto their bed with Pancake and beg for cuddles. Wednesday would listen, but her responses had grown clipped:
“That’s nice.”
“Mm.”
“Later.”
Even her novel draft sat untouched at her desk with Enid’s sticky-note encouragements (“YOU’RE BRILLIANT, DON’T FORGET IT” and a bunch of hearts she’d drawn) layered so thickly on the lamp that it glowed pink when turned on.

One evening, Enid leaned against the doorframe, holding a bowl of popcorn dusted with glittery sprinkles. “Okay, babe, pause the murder thoughts. Movie night. Please? I need it, I need you.”
Wednesday didn’t look up from her notes. “I can’t, I have to rewrite the ending of my comparative essay.”
Enid crossed her arms. “You rewrote it yesterday.”
“It was inadequate yesterday.”
Enid sighed. “You’re not even looking at me. Do you realize you’ve spent more time with your library chair than your wife this week?”
That one made Wednesday pause briefly. She lifted her gaze, dark eyes pinning Enid in place. For a moment, the sharpness softened, then she looked back down, flipping a page.

“I’ll make it up to you when the semester ends.”
Enid rolled her eyes, though there was worry in them too. “That’s like… a month away.”
Wednesday didn’t answer.
Later, when they were in bed, Enid curled into her side, clinging stubbornly. Wednesday lay stiff, staring at the ceiling, mind still racing with arguments and counterarguments; Enid murmured something about Pancake stealing one of her socks again and Wednesday hummed in acknowledgment, but didn’t smile, didn’t banter.
Enid nuzzled against her shoulder and whispered, “I miss you, Weds.”
This time, Wednesday closed her eyes. Not from rest, but to hide the flicker of guilt. “I’m so sorry…” she muttered, defeated.
———————-
Enid had given up trying to drag Wednesday away from the library. So, the next day, she decided that if she couldn’t beat her, she’d join her.
Armed with a tote bag of snacks and two cold energy drinks, she walked to the library with her wife.
When they arrived, Wednesday suddenly tucked into her usual corner table, papers spread with surgical precision, and Enid dropped her bag into the seat across from her.

“Okay, Weds, so this is where you officially now. Should I forward your mail to this desk or…?”
“Be quiet,” Wednesday said without looking up. “The chair is still adjusting to your volume.”
Enid made a face but sat anyway, pulling out her laptop. She wasn’t going to let her wife rot in a pile of Gothic citations alone.
They worked in silence for a while; well, Wednesday worked: Enid scrolled, chewed on gummy worms, and sometimes tried to read her notes, occasionally peeking over the mountain of books to look at her wife. Now, the exhaustion was written all over Wednesday’s face in tiny details: the tightness in her jaw, the faint shadows under her eyes, the way her shoulders hunched just slightly more than usual.

A nervous student hovered by the desk. “Um… Professor Addams-Sinclair?”
Enid blinked. “Wait. What?”
Wednesday looked up, expression perfectly flat. “Yes.”
The student fumbled with their pen. “I… I was wondering if, for the comparative lit essay, you’d prefer MLA or Chicago citation, because I don’t-“
“Chicago.”
“Oh! Thank you, Professor.” The student scuttled away.
Enid’s jaw dropped. “Weds, did you just… answer to that?”
Wednesday returned to her paper like nothing happened. “It was quicker than correcting him.”

Enid leaned over the table, whispering fiercely. “He thinks you’re faculty. Like, actually faculty.”
“That’s good. That means these insufferable students will leave me alone, unless it’s for something useful.”
Enid stared at her, half horrified, half impressed. “You’re saying it wasn’t the first time? You’re scaring them into giving you tenure before you’ve even finished freshman year.”
“Exactly.”

Enid shook her head, still processing. “You realize that was insane, right? Like, you just accepted being called ‘Professor Addams-Sinclair’ and nobody batted an eye. That’s…” She trailed off, lips quirking. “…kind of hot, actually.”
That finally got Wednesday’s attention and made her pen pause mid-sentence. Slowly, she lifted her eyes, dark and intent, and studied Enid.
“Hot?” Wednesday repeated, voice deceptively soft.
Enid shrugged, cheeks pink. “Yeah. You being all scary-smart and serious and people thinking you’re in charge? Total power move… I’m into it.”

A sound slipped out of Wednesday that was far too gentle for the library’s icy silence. Almost a coo: soft, pleased, impossible to mistake for anything else. She leaned just slightly closer across the table, voice low enough that only Enid heard:
“Of course you are.”
Enid covered her face with her hands, muffling a laugh-groan. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I just gave you more fuel.”
“You should know better by now.” Wednesday returned to her notes, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her: curved, smug, softened just for Enid.

Enid leaned over the table, whispering like she was plotting a heist instead of complimenting her wife. “Okay, but seriously. The blazer, the whole ‘I’m so above you mortals’ vibe, the note-taking at the speed of light, people calling you ‘professor’… you’re like every college fantasy rolled into one.”
Wednesday didn’t even look up, though her pen slowed ever so slightly and her mouth twitched into a little smile once again. “Do shut up before someone overhears you fetishizing me.”
“Fetishizing?” Enid gasped dramatically. “I’m appreciating, there’s a difference.”
Wednesday’s eyes flicked up, dark and pointed, but Enid only grinned wider.

“I mean, you don’t even correct people calling you that!” Enid repeated again, still in shock.
“Why would I? The error is flattering. Besides, it’s preferable to being mistaken for one of these sleep-deprived buffoons you insist on calling classmates.”
Enid rested her chin in her hand, staring at Wednesday with all the subtlety of a neon sign. “It’s hot.”
That soft coo escaped Wednesday again, though this time she tried to cover it by turning the page too forcefully. She hissed under her breath, “Control yourself, Enid. We are in a library.”
“You’re the one making noises,” Enid teased, smirking. “You cooed.”
“I did not coo, I expressed disdain in a pitch you misinterpreted.”
Enid leaned closer, voice dropping. “You totally cooed because you love it when I call you hot.”

Wednesday’s face remained carved from marble, but the faintest pink touched her ears. She wrote another line of notes before murmuring, so quietly only Enid could hear:
“Perhaps.”
Enid’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god, you admitted it. You like when I worship you.”
“Of course I do,” Wednesday said, finally meeting her eyes. “It’s your marital duty as my wife.”
Enid almost laughed too loudly for the library. “I cannot believe you just called that a duty. You’re impossible.”
Wednesday smirked faintly, returning to her book. “And yet, apparently irresistible for you.”

Enid’s knee suddenly brushed against Wednesday’s under the table: a little test, a little push.
Wednesday ignored it at first, but when Enid’s sneaker started tracing lazy circles against her calf, her pen faltered.
“Enid.”
“Yes, Professor?” Enid said, smug as ever.
The notebook closed with a decisive snap and Wednesday turned her full body toward Enid. She leaned in just far enough for Enid’s grin to falter, her voice a whisper that vibrated low and dark.

“If you do not cease this behavior immediately, I will haul you into the nearest supply closet and ensure you won’t walk straight after. How would that be?”
Enid’s face turned the brightest red she’d ever seen, but her lips curved into a sly, excited smile. “Well… maybe I would like that,” she breathed, a shiver of anticipation running through her. “You’re terrifyingly perfect.”
“Enid, we are in the library! If you don’t stop, I will ignore you for the rest of my life. Would you like that too, wifey?”
Enid shoved her book open like it had personally offended her. “Studying! I’m… yep. Totally studying. Communication theory, here I come.”
Wednesday smirked, satisfied, reopening her notebook. “Good girl.”
Enid almost squealed but clamped a hand over her mouth, scribbling random nonsense into the margins of her textbook just to look busy.

By the time Wednesday finished her notes and stacked her books, Enid still hadn’t recovered: she’d read the same paragraph three times without absorbing a single word. Her brain was too busy replaying ‘good girl’ on loop like some cursed Spotify track.
When Wednesday stood and slung her satchel over her shoulder, Enid scrambled to pack her things, nearly knocking over her water bottle in the process.
“Careful,” Wednesday murmured, steadying it before it toppled. Her hand lingered just long enough for Enid to feel the brush of her cold fingers. “You’re unusually clumsy today.”
“Wonder why that is,” Enid muttered, cheeks still warm.

They walked out together, and the evening air hit them as they stepped outside, a crisp bite that made Enid shiver while Wednesday, of course, didn’t react at all.
“You’re impossible,” Enid burst out, shoving her hands into her pockets. “You just… you drop one little line and I’m the one combusting, and you act like nothing happened. It’s evil.”
Wednesday gave her a glance, lips curved into the faintest smirk. “I know.”
“That’s it?” Enid whined, nearly tripping on the stairs because she was too busy staring at her wife.
Wednesday stopped at the bottom step and turned fully toward her. “Enid, you wear your emotions so loudly they could be heard from the crypt. Why would I expend energy reacting when your reactions are so… entertaining?”
Enid groaned. “You’re literally feeding off my embarrassment.”
“I am.” Wednesday stepped closer. “Besides… I prefer to save my reactions for private.”
Enid’s heart practically leapt out of her chest. “Oh my god.”

Wednesday brushed past her, starting down the path. “Come along, wife. Unless you’d prefer I test the theory about supply closets in front of the entire student body.”
Enid squeaked, chasing after her. “I hate you!”
“You adore me.”
“Ughhh, I do.”

“But really, it’s not fair! You get to say one thing and I’m toast. Meanwhile, I say a thousand things and you just blink at me like a creepy little owl.”
“Perhaps your thousand things lack precision. Aim is everything.”
Enid narrowed her eyes. “Okay, fine. Watch this.” She jogged ahead two steps, spinning on her heel so she was walking backward in front of her wife. “Hey, Professor Addams-Sinclair.” She put a little sing-song on the title. “Could you, like, give me some extra credit after class?”
Wednesday didn’t falter, but her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “That was crude.”
“Crude, but effective,” Enid teased. “You totally flinched.”
“I did not flinch.”
“You so did!” She leaned closer, grinning. “Ohhh, what’s wrong, professor? Don’t like when a student flirts back?”

Wednesday finally stopped walking. Which, of course, made Enid stumble to a halt too, still facing her.
Wednesday stepped into her space, lowering her voice. “Careful, Enid.”
Enid swallowed hard. “Oh my god, you are blushing. Just the tiniest bit, right there.” She poked her wife’s cheek, delighted.
Wednesday’s hand snapped up, catching Enid’s wrist mid-poke. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you love it.”
Wednesday’s lips twitched, threatening a smile she refused to let loose. She dropped Enid’s wrist but didn’t step back. “Unfortunately, yes.”
Enid lit up. “Ha! Gotcha. Finally.”

Enid leaned closer, her voice dripping with mischief. “So, Professor,” she purred, “you still didn’t tell me, what do I have to do to get more credits after class?”
Wednesday leaned in, her voice low and razor-sharp. “Attend office hours, alone.”
Enid giggled, pressing her hand to her mouth. “Oh my god, stop, you’re actually too good at this.”
From behind a tree, a voice cut through like a record scratch:
“…What the hell did I just walk into?”
Both wives whipped around.
Yoko stood frozen, half a muffin in her hand, eyes wide. “Did you two just… did I just- Professor roleplay? In public? In the streets?”
Enid yelped. “YOKO!”

Wednesday didn’t even flinch, but simply lifted her chin. “Eavesdropping is unbecoming, Tanaka.”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I was vibing” Yoko sputtered, muffin crumbs flying. “Big difference! Also… holy crap, Enid! You’re corrupting her. Or she’s corrupting you. Honestly, I can’t even tell what’s going on anymore!”
Enid buried her face in her hands. “This is so embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing for you,” Yoko corrected, pointing dramatically with her muffin. “For me? This is front-row entertainment, I’m living for it. ‘Professorrrrr, give me more creditssss’… like, are you kidding me? I’ll be quoting this forever.”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “If you repeat that line, I will hex your shoes so they squeak endlessly for the rest of your life.”
Yoko blinked once. “…Worth it.”

Enid groaned. “Can you at least not tell everyone?”
Yoko grinned, evil and delighted. “Oh Enid, I don’t have to tell everyone. The image is engraved into my mind forever. Rent-free, eternal.” She started backing away slowly. “Don’t mind me, continue your little… extracurricular seminar. Don’t let me stop the romance.”
Wednesday’s glare could’ve killed. “Leave. Now.”
Yoko laughed hard, then bolted.
Enid peeked through her fingers, mortified. “…We can never show our faces in public again, can we?”
Wednesday, deadpan: “I don’t see the problem.”
—————-
The next morning, Wednesday shuffled into the kitchen with the look of someone who’d been dueling deadlines instead of sleeping. She looked at Enid, picked up the black coffee she had poured for her, drank half in one swallow, and then said flatly:
“They’ve asked me to present my paper early.”
Enid, who was halfway through frosting a toaster pastry with pink icing, froze. “Present? Like, in front of actual professors?”
Wednesday nodded once. “And a selection of doctoral candidates.”
Enid blinked. “Weds, that’s huge! That’s like… fancy academic people saying you’re worth listening to!”
“It is also,” Wednesday muttered, “additional work. They expect visuals, a whole presentation.”
Enid grinned, biting back a laugh. “And you hate visuals.”
Wednesday narrowed her eyes over the rim of her mug. “They are the crayons of academia.”

Enid plopped her pastry down and spun in her chair to face her. “Sooo… what you’re really saying is you need my help.”
“I require your… translation, to make my words more digestible for humans.”
Enid gasped theatrically, hand to chest. “Are you… asking me to make you relatable?”
Wednesday glared. “Do not use that word in my presence.”
Enid leaned in, practically glowing. “You’re asking your communication-major wife to help with communication. Weds, this is literally my dream!”
Wednesday sighed, but there was the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth. “I’m glad I’m fulfilling your dreams, then.”

Enid blushed, but then became serious. “I’ll help you, Weds. And honestly? I was waiting all week for you to ask me for some help. I’m your wife, remember? And seeing you all alone, trying to do things perfectly without asking me any kind of help… it was actually painful to watch.”
“I… I just realised yesterday how bad I was neglecting you, and how much it was hurting us both. Thank you for being here for me anyway.”
“I’m always gonna be here for you, no matter what. Now let’s get to it or we’re gonna end up flirting again.”
————-
The dining table had turned into a battlefield. Stacks of Wednesday’s papers towered on one end, while Enid’s rainbow markers, pastel sticky notes, and half-empty iced coffee decorated the other like a candy-colored invasion.
Wednesday sat with her spine straight, expression neutral, as Enid hovered nervously over her latest draft slide.
“Okay,” Enid started, chewing the cap of her marker, “so… here’s my idea. You’ve got this super long quote about, um, the dissection of the Gothic heroine’s psyche, right?” She flipped the page toward Wednesday, then quickly winced. “I mean, it’s… really deep, Weds, don’t get me wrong! But if you just put that on a slide, people’s eyes are gonna glaze over. Like instant nap time.”
Wednesday’s brows furrowed, her pen pausing mid-word.

“So instead,” Enid rushed on, “what if we, like… break it down into bullet points? You know, small bites. Add an image, maybe something dramatic, like a black-and-white staircase or a - uh - ravens in the fog sort of thing.”
Wednesday tapped her pen against the margin, gaze unreadable. “Photos of ravens.”
Enid winced. “That sounds dumber when you say it out loud, doesn’t it?”
A beat of silence stretched between them, and Enid’s chest tightened.

“God, I knew it was…” she muttered, tossing her marker down. “You’re out here writing about, like, the architecture of dread and the literary anatomy of fear, and I’m just throwing clip art at you. I’m- I’m so sorry, I’m not smart or dark enough for this, I don’t think I can keep up with you.” Her voice cracked at the end, and she looked away, ashamed.
Wednesday set her pen down with deliberate calm; then she stood, walked around the table, and stopped directly beside Enid’s chair.
“Look at me.”
Enid hesitated, then tilted her chin up, wide eyes already shimmering with doubt.

Wednesday leaned down, her voice low, unwavering.
“You will not insult my wife in my presence.”
Enid blinked.
“I did not ask you here to deconstruct Poe’s metaphors, I asked you to help me with slides, because your mind works differently than mine. You see angles I cannot, you understand and master the language of humans, you make the obscure legible.” Wednesday reached out, her cold fingers brushing Enid’s cheek. “That is invaluable. You are invaluable.”
Enid swallowed hard, heart pounding. “But-“

“No,” Wednesday cut her off. “If it comes from you, it will be enough.” Her voice softened, almost a whisper. “Because… you are more than enough. And, despite your glitter-addled protests, you are the most intelligent person I know.”
The words landed like a weight in Enid’s chest, but not the crushing kind, but the grounding kind. She blinked rapidly, a shaky laugh escaping.
“Wednesday Addams-Sinclair,” she whispered, smiling even as her eyes filled with tears. “Did you just… give me a pep talk?”
Wednesday’s lips curved into a small smile. “Don’t tell anyone, it would ruin my reputation.”

Enid threw her arms around her, pulling Wednesday into a tight hug. “You’re ridiculous. And also… the best wife ever.”
Wednesday didn’t hug back right away. Then, with a sigh that sounded a lot like surrender, her arms slipped around Enid’s waist. “Of course I am. But only after you.”

Enid pulled back from the hug, wiping under her eyes with the sleeve of her pastel sweater. “Okay. No more sulking. I’m your visuals girl, your communication coach, and your number one fan all rolled into one.”
Wednesday arched a brow. “A dubious résumé, but acceptable.”
Enid grinned, grabbing her laptop. “So, let’s start small. You’ve got, like, three paragraphs here about how Victorian architecture mirrors the crumbling human psyche. Cool, but… visual nightmare. What if we turn that into three slides instead? One with a photo of a creepy old building, one with the keywords highlighted, and one with your conclusion. Easy to digest.”

Wednesday tilted her head, considering. “You’re suggesting the audience requires their food cut into smaller bites.”
“Exactly!” Enid’s marker squeaked across a sticky note as she sketched a little haunted house. “Like, they’ll still eat it, but you’re making sure no one chokes on the fork. Get it?”
Wednesday almost smiled. “An apt metaphor.”
The two of them fell into a rhythm: Enid paced around with markers, sticking color-coded notes onto Wednesday’s drafts, while Wednesday rewrote sentences with surgical precision. Whenever Enid went too far into cheerful clip art territory, Wednesday shut it down with a single look, whenever Wednesday got too heavy with her prose, Enid cut in with a raised brow and a, “No one’s gonna follow that, babe. Trust me.”

When they finished, their dining table was covered in neat stacks of papers, a half-dozen mocked-up slides, and a ridiculous amount of pink sticky notes.
Enid leaned back in her chair with a triumphant grin. “See? Now it looks professional and terrifying. Just like you.”
Wednesday glanced at the final slide on Enid’s laptop: a stark black-and-white photograph of a creepy manor, overlaid with one of her own lines.
She nodded once, decisive. “This will do.”

Enid stretched, yawning. “Oh my god. We make such a good team.” She leaned over to nudge Wednesday’s shoulder. “Professor Addams-Sinclair and her communication assistant-slash-wife.”
Wednesday turned her head slowly. “You are aware that assistants are traditionally underpaid and overworked.”
“Yeah, but this one gets kisses as a bonus.” Enid leaned in and pressed one to her wife’s cheek.
Wednesday froze and softened. “I suppose that is adequate compensation.” she said, before kissing her.

The dining table still looked like it had survived a small apocalypse: pens, half-crumpled drafts, candies, and Wednesday’s notebook with her meticulous handwriting were spread across every surface; also, the air smelled of printer ink and the three-day-old black coffee mug that Wednesday refused to part with.
After the kiss, Enid stretched again, then glanced over at her wife, who was already stacking papers into neat piles with sharp precision, her face unreadable. Her posture, however, betrayed her: the rigid line of her back, the faint tremor in her hand, the way her eyes lingered just a beat too long on nothing.

Enid frowned, padding over and gently plucking the stack of papers from her. “Okay, work monster, time out.”
Wednesday’s gaze flicked up, sharp and annoyed. “You’re interfering.”
“Yeah, with your health,” Enid shot back, already sliding the papers into her own folder. “Come on. You’ve been running on caffeine and spite for a week, babe. You barely looked at me unless I was holding a red pen until yesterday.”
Wednesday set her jaw but didn’t argue. That, more than anything, told Enid how deep the exhaustion ran.

Together, they started tidying up the wreckage: Enid gathered pens and sticky notes, humming softly under her breath, while Wednesday wiped down the table with brisk, deliberate motions. They worked in silence for a while, until Enid caught the way Wednesday’s shoulders sagged once the last stack of papers was put away.
Enid crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. “You know what this is, right?”
Wednesday looked at her flatly. “An efficient cleanup.”
“Wrong.” Enid tilted her head. “This is burnout, Weds. Big, scary, neon-sign, collapse-on-your-desk burnout.”
Wednesday’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Enid softened her tone, stepping closer. “I mean it. You’ve been carrying, like, a mountain of work on your back, and pretending it’s fine. But it’s not. And I don’t want to sit here and watch you melt into a skeleton before finals.” She reached out, brushing her fingers against Wednesday’s wrist. “So tell me what I can do. Please. There has to be something I can do to make this easier for you.”
For a moment, Enid expected another brush-off, something biting or dismissive. Instead, Wednesday surprised her: she tilted her head, studying Enid with that unnerving intensity, and finally murmured, “You already are.”
Enid blinked. “What?”

Wednesday’s voice was soft, but steady. “You’re here… always. When I lose myself in ink and paper, you bring me back, when I forget to eat, you place food in front of me, when the world drains me of energy, you insist I rest. Your presence is… sustaining.” Her hand twitched slightly. “That is enough. And I’ve been so… mindless not to reconize how much you mean to me and to my health.”
Enid’s heart swelled so fast it almost hurt. She had to bite her lip to keep from grinning like a maniac. “That’s… the most romantic thing you’ve said this week.”
Still, even with her chest full of warmth, a nagging thought pulled at her: Enid knew Wednesday was resilient, but resilience wasn’t immunity, and looking back on the past months, she realized Wednesday hadn’t spent any meaningful time with her own people, like her actual family.
It was Sinclair chaos that time where they came visiting, Sinclair chaos at the Super Bowl party, Sinclair chaos whenever Luca dropped by. And then there was their friend group, which, sure, was basically family too, but maybe not for Wednesday; or at least, not as much as it was for Enid. And Wednesday’s family time? That was missing.

Enid worried that maybe, just maybe, Wednesday was suffocating a little in other people’s worlds, especially when ‘people’ were so different from her.
So she hesitated, then spoke carefully. “You know, I’ve been thinking…”
Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “Always a dangerous start.”
“Weds,” Enid said, drawing out the word, “I think… it could actually be good for you if you wanted to host a little family reunion, like we talked about before.”
Wednesday blinked, expression unreadable.
Enid rushed on nervously. “Not the whole entire clan, don’t worry. I know your parents are… you know, they can be a lot, for you.” She chuckled softly. “But maybe just your faves? Some of your cousins, your Grandma, your Uncle? The people who don’t completely drain you. You always talk about them, and if you’d reunite with them you’d get to be around your own side of things for once, and I think… that could be good for you.”

Wednesday froze: her eyes flicked down to her own hands, which were still poised on the edge of the table. And then, her expression shifted: the faintest spark of thrill lit her eyes, and her lips curved in the barest ghost of a smile.
Enid tilted her head, stunned. “You like the idea?”
Wednesday turned toward her. “I am… intrigued. Excited, even.”
Enid gasped. “Excited? You just said excited?”
“I was speaking clinically.”
“Yeah, of course” Enid said, practically bouncing in place. “So who are you gonna invite?”

Wednesday tapped one finger against the table, already calculating. “I know you have a strange appreciation for my brother, but no Pugsley this time, I need a break from him.”
Enid snorted. “Fair.” she said, then her laughter softened into something more tentative. “I’ll accept it. But also… you know…” She bit her lip, fidgeting. “If you need a break from me too, you just have to say it. I’ll leave you with your family, no problem. I’ll go to Divina and Bianca, or maybe Luca.”
The shift in Wednesday was instant: her hand went rigid, her eyes darkened, and she snapped her head toward Enid with sharp intensity.

“What do you mean?” she asked flatly.
Enid blinked. “Um. Just that-“
Wednesday’s hand tightened against the wood. “I waited so long to have my relatives meet you. Having them meet you is not merely an additional detail of the reunion, it is the most important part. That’s why I said I was excited. Also…” her voice dipped lower, urgent, raw “I could never use a break from you.”
Enid melted, and she had to cover her face with both hands for a second just to hide how ridiculously in love she looked. “God, you’re gonna kill me with lines like that.”
“They weren’t lines.” Wednesday muttered.
“They were lines!” Enid squeaked, practically vibrating, before launching herself forward to press a kiss against Wednesday’s cheek.

“I have to admit,” Wednesday said slowly, “I am… anxious for them to meet you as my wife. Their judgments are sharp and their standards are higher than most mortals can withstand. But the fact that you thought of this-“ She trailed off, her eyes softening, her voice hushed. “I’m glad you did, and I cannot wait. Also, you’re… amazing, so they’re going to like you, and even if they didn’t… I’ll haunt them forever, I don’t care.”
Enid swallowed a lump in her throat, eyes shining. “Oh, babe.”

Wednesday, needing to reclaim some dignity, immediately shifted into logistics. “We shall invite Uncle Fester, naturally. Grandmama as well. And yes, some of my cousins… Cassandra, Icarus, Persephone, Damian, and Octavia.”
Enid nodded, her grin widening all over again. “Perfect. Creepy crew, table for eight. And me.”
“And you,” Wednesday echoed, eyes narrowing with satisfaction. “The best addition my family will ever see.”
—————-
“Okay, babe. Spill. Who are these mysterious relatives I’m meeting? Give me the tea.” Enid asked later, from the couch.
Wednesday, seated perfectly upright with her typewriter still within reach, adjusted her posture like she was delivering a lecture. “Very well, let’s start with my cousins. Cassandra is quiet but… sharp. You’ll like her, or you’ll think she’s staring into your soul. Both things will be true. Oh, and she draws, by the way.”
Enid scribbled furiously, eyes wide. “Okay, artsy cousin. Got it. Probably gonna judge my nail polish colors.”

“Maybe,” Wednesday said simply. “Then… Icarus. He never stops talking and he’ll describe his next experiment in grotesque detail, before it inevitably explodes.”
“Oh my god, you’re telling me there’s a Sinclair-level talker on your side of the family? We’re doomed.”
Wednesday allowed the faintest twitch of a smirk before moving on. “Persephone is a writer and possibly… the one I feel most connected to. She’s spent three years working on her weird werewolf saga, volume one of seven.”
Enid gasped, practically bouncing. “Wait, wait, wait- you have a cousin writing werewolf romance and you didn’t tell me sooner? Oh my god, I need her Wattpad link.”

“She doesn’t-” Wednesday started. “Okay, moving on. My cousin Damian… he’s a fencer, he’s good but he’s too competitive, and enjoys winning too much.”
Enid grinned. “Sounds like someone else I know.”
Wednesday blinked once, deliberately ignoring the jab, and continued. “Who am I forgetting… oh, Octavia. She has a strange passion for plants, mostly venomous. But I always thought she was one of the most intelligent people in my family, even if she’s the youngest.”

Finally, Wednesday’s gaze softened as she tilted her head, her voice dipping lower. “And, of course, Uncle Fester. His energy is… radioactive, but he will adore you. And Grandmama… she pretends not to like company, but she’ll warm to you once you lose to her at poker.”
Enid dropped the notebook she was using to take notes about Wednesday’s family members into her lap, beaming. “Okay, that’s actually adorable, and terrifying, and kind of perfect.”
“Good,” Wednesday said, her tone dry but her eyes faintly gleaming. “You’ll need both reactions to survive.”
“But, wait. Which cousins are from the Addams side and which ones from the Frump one?”

Wednesday glanced at her like it was an absurdly naïve question. “Cassandra and Icarus Frumps. Persephone, Octavia, and Damian are Addamses. Though, frankly, it’s not as relevant as you assume.”
Enid blinked. “Not relevant? Didn’t your grandma, like, hate the Addamses?”
Wednesday sighed softly. “Grandmama has always… disapproved of my father. At first, her disdain was directed at his entire branch of the family, but years and decades wear down even her sharpest grievances. By now, it’s become little more than a running joke, an irritation she performs more than she feels. And she has, whether she’d admit it aloud or not, grown fond of some of my cousins who carry the Addams bloodline.”

Enid tilted her head. “So she doesn’t even, like, care anymore?”
“Not in the way you think,” Wednesday said evenly.
Enid went quiet for a beat, fingers tracing idle patterns across the pillow. “…Wow.”
Wednesday’s brows arched. “Wow?”
“Your family…” Enid hesitated, searching for the words. “I mean, they seem creepy, yeah. And terrifying, and totally weird.” She smiled faintly. “But they also… actually care about each other. Like, they don’t let old grudges or differences get in the way of being family.” Her smile faltered a little. “That’s… kinda the opposite of mine.”

Wednesday’s gaze sharpened, but she stayed silent, letting Enid speak.
Enid drew a shaky breath. “My mom… well, you already know, she sucks. She always says bad things about each one of us… and she didn’t accept Luca, she basically kicked him out because she found out he was dating a boy. Like, who does that to their own kid? And my dad… he never says anything. Never defends us, never pushes back, just sits there. And my uncles, aunts, cousins…” she waved a hand, exasperated “we’re not really close. It’s all… performative. Like, everyone’s always trying to prove they’re the perfect family, perfect house, perfect kids. But nobody actually… cares. Not really, not like yours.”
Her voice cracked a little at the end, but she quickly covered it with a laugh, burying her face in a black pillow. “Sorry. That got heavy fast.”

Wednesday reached across, prying the pillow gently from Enid’s arms, then replaced it with herself. She climbed into Enid’s space without hesitation, arranging herself so her legs caged Enid’s lap and their foreheads nearly touched.
“Enid,” she said softly, but with that cutting clarity that made Enid freeze. “You now have another family. Mine. Ours.”
Enid’s breath caught, the words sinking in. “Ours…” she repeated softly; her eyes shimmered, and for a second she just stared at Wednesday. “Do you even know what that means to me?”
“It means everything to me,” Wednesday said. “To call you my wife, to have this little family of ours, just you, me and Pancake. You have me, Enid. I’ll be your family, and you’ll be mine, forever. And you will have my extended family too, just like you dream of.”

“Weds…” she whispered, voice breaking into a laugh-sob. “Do you even know what you just said? That’s like…” she exhaled sharply, blinking fast, “that’s literally the thing I’ve wanted my whole life. Someone who doesn’t just tolerate me but chooses me. Someone who says will always be with me and actually means it.”
Her eyes glistened as she finally looked at Wednesday, cheeks already flushed. “I’ve always wanted… a family that didn’t feel like I was just the extra piece. And now you’re standing here saying this, and I just…” she laughed through another tear, “God, I love you. You, Pancake, this weird little family. Everything. I didn’t think I’d ever get this.”

Wednesday’s fingers slid up to the back of her neck, holding her close. “You have it now, and you won’t lose it.”
Enid closed her eyes, finally letting herself melt against her wife, her voice a whisper at the corner of a grin. “Forever, huh?”
Wednesday’s lips almost quirked. “Forever. And even then, longer.”
Enid laughed into her shoulder. “I’m so stupidly in love with you.”
“I’m aware,” Wednesday murmured, thumb brushing Enid’s cheek, “and I’m equally afflicted.”
—————-
Enid had her hair tied up in the most aggressive ponytail Wednesday had ever seen, streaked with flour and powdered sugar, and the kitchen counters were a battlefield: bowls stacked precariously, black frosting smeared across the marble, and tiny star-shaped sprinkles scattered in every direction.
Wednesday stepped into the room, and her eyes traveled slowly across the counter. “It looks like Candyland threw up.”
Enid gasped. “Excuse you. This is called aesthetic prep, we’re making themed snacks for the family reunion. Black velvet cupcakes. On brand, and spooky chic.”

“On brand,” Wednesday repeated flatly. She picked up a small sugar skull Enid had tried to mold, inspecting it. “This looks like a drowned mouse.”
“Okay, rude.” Enid shoved the piping bag into her hands. “Here. Since you’re such an expert critic, you can help.”
Wednesday raised a brow. “You want me to participate in this saccharine massacre?”
“Yes, wife. That’s literally what I just said,” Enid replied, grinning.

Wednesday made a show of sighing, but she lowered herself onto the stool anyway, scooping a bit of frosting onto a cupcake with precise, surgical movements.
Enid leaned in, squinting at her. “Oh my god. You’re secretly amazing at this.”
“Precision is a transferable skill,” Wednesday said coolly, though the corner of her mouth betrayed a tiny twitch.
Enid caught it and practically squealed. “You like this. Don’t even try to deny it. You like helping me make creepy cupcakes!”
“I am tolerating it,” Wednesday corrected. Then, as if to erase suspicion, she plucked one of the finished cupcakes off the tray and bit into it. She chewed slowly, deliberately, her face unreadable.

“Well?” Enid asked, bouncing on her heels. “Spooky chic AND tasty?”
Wednesday set the cupcake down, wiped her mouth, and gave the most clinical verdict imaginable: “It is… edible.”
But she reached for a second one almost immediately.
Enid smirked knowingly. “You love it!”
“Your need for validation is exhausting,” Wednesday murmured, but her frosting-covered hand brushed against Enid’s, deliberate and unhurried.
The kitchen, with its sticky chaos and sugar storms, suddenly felt smaller, softer… domestic in a way that made Enid’s chest ache in the best way.
And when Enid leaned close to swipe a streak of frosting across Wednesday’s cheek, Wednesday didn’t swat her away. She just picked up another cupcake, decorated it with perfection, and set it in front of Enid like an offering.

Enid smirked, eyes darting to the tiny streak of frosting still on Wednesday’s cheek. She leaned in, grinning mischievously. “You missed a spot.”
Before Wednesday could react, Enid swiped her finger across it, then popped the frosting into her mouth with a dramatic ‘mmm’.
Wednesday blinked, slow and deliberate, the way people do when they try to decide whether to strangle someone or kiss them. “Do you make a habit of licking your wife’s face?”
“Only when she’s cute and covered in frosting.” Enid grabbed another piping bag, aiming it like a water gun.

Wednesday didn’t flinch: just tilted her head, eyes narrowing with predator calm. “If you dare-“
Too late. A dollop of frosting splattered on Wednesday’s dark shirt.
Enid slapped a hand over her mouth, laughing. “Oops.”
Wednesday looked down at the mess, then back at Enid. Without breaking eye contact, she dipped a finger into the icing bowl, and threw a cold stripe across Enid’s nose.
Enid squealed. “Wednesday!”
“Retribution.” Wednesday said simply.
What followed could only be described as domestic warfare: frosting on cheeks, flour handprints on hips, sprinkles flung like confetti. Enid darted around the counter, but Wednesday caught her by the waist with terrifying efficiency, pulling her close.

Enid’s giggles melted into a soft gasp, her eyes locking on Wednesday’s. “You’re… too good at this.”
“I warned you.” Wednesday’s voice was low, a little rough, her hand still at Enid’s waist, thumb brushing sugar dust off her shirt.
The kitchen quieted around them, only their breathing loud now. Enid leaned in, bumping her sprinkle-dotted nose against Wednesday’s. “So are you gonna kiss me, or should I-“

Wednesday didn’t let her finish: she leaned in, lips pressing firmly against Enid’s, frosting-sweet and lingering. Enid melted instantly, her arms looping around Wednesday’s neck, pulling her closer.
When they finally broke apart, Enid was grinning like she’d won the lottery. “Best kitchen disaster ever.”
“Tolerable. But we made a mess and still haven’t finished with these… things. Check that frosting, is it still good for other cupcakes?”
Enid leaned against the counter, finger dragging lazily through the bowl of said frosting. She licked it clean, eyes glittering. “Not bad. Want a taste?”
Wednesday arched a brow. “If that’s your attempt at seduction, it’s tragically unsubtle.”
“Tragically effective, you mean.” Enid dipped another finger, holding it up near Wednesday’s lips. “Come on, baaaabe”

Wednesday’s gaze flicked from Enid’s frosted finger to her smirk. Instead of taking the bait, she stepped closer until Enid’s back pressed against the counter. Her voice dropped, silk over steel. “I don’t eat off surfaces that are sticky… unless I’ve claimed them myself.”
Enid’s breath caught, her cheeks pink. “Are you- did you just- OH MY GOD-“
Wednesday calmly picked up a spoon, dipped it into the bowl, and tasted the frosting with unnerving composure. “Adequate.” She said, then licked a bit of frosting that has somehow fallen on her thumb, eyes locked on Enid the whole time.

Enid gawked, then burst into a flustered laugh. “You’re such a- ugh- Do you practice being hot in kitchens or is this just natural talent?”
Wednesday leaned in, close enough for Enid to feel her breath. “Both.”
Enid squinted, crossing her arms, and arched a brow. “Uh-huh, so you practice it. Practice with who, exactly?“
Wednesday didn’t even hesitate. “With someone who is infuriatingly loud, has a rainbow wardrobe that could blind an unsuspecting guest, and kisses me like she owns the air I breathe.”
“…That’s me, right?”
“You’re quicker than usual today.”

Enid groaned, smacking her arm with a spoon. “You’re impossible. I was trying to be cute-jealous and you turned it into… whatever this is!”
Wednesday smirked. “No, you were attempting jealousy. I’m simply rewarding your effort.”
Enid’s face went nuclear. “You don’t ‘reward’ jealousy!”
“I do when it’s yours.” Wednesday’s tone dropped into a purr.
Enid covered her face. “I hate you.”
Wednesday’s lips ghosted her ear. “You love me.”
Enid squeaked so loudly Pancake barked.
—————
Enid held up her latest attempt at a cupcake and winced. “Okay, be honest, does this look like a bat or a… um… squashed butterfly?”
Wednesday leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “Neither. It looks like roadkill, but endearing roadkill.”
Enid’s face split into a grin. “You think my cupcakes are endearing? Weds, that’s so sweet!”
Wednesday rolled her eyes but carefully adjusted the icing bag in Enid’s hand. “Your grip is all wrong. Here-“ She slid behind her, guiding her hand with calm precision, and together they piped out a surprisingly elegant bat shape.

Enid glanced back at her, cheeks warming. “You know, you’re actually kinda good at this.”
“I am precise,” Wednesday said simply.
They slipped into a rhythm: Enid handled the sprinkles, while Wednesday followed with the designs: spiderwebs, tiny skulls, gravestones. Every time Enid messed something up, Wednesday quietly fixed it without complaint, as though she’d resigned herself to being the cleanup crew for her wife’s enthusiasm.

At one point, Enid’s hand slipped and a shower of black sugar dusted over Wednesday’s braid. Enid gasped. “Oh my god, I ruined you! You’re sparkling!”
Wednesday picked a few specks off her shoulder, inspected them, and shrugged. “I suppose even I can survive a brush with glitter. Don’t let it go to your head.”
Enid giggled and kissed her cheek. “Too late, already went straight to my head.”
Wednesday froze for half a second, then leaned into the kiss before going back to her cupcake. “Focus, Enid. We need to finish this.”
Enid pretended to pout, but her eyes were shining. “Fineee. But first admit you secretly love doing this with me.”

Wednesday placed the final cupcake on the tray, neat as a painting. Then she turned, meeting Enid’s gaze directly. “I do.”
Enid’s smile went nuclear, and she threw her arms around her wife, smudging a bit of frosting onto Wednesday’s sleeve in the process. “Domestic goth-rainbow wives, taking over the kitchen one cupcake at a time.”
Wednesday allowed herself a small, rare laugh. “You’re… how would Ajax say it? Oh, that’s it. You’re so cringe.”
—————-
Later that night, Enid padded into the bedroom in her pajamas, hair tied back, still smelling faintly of sugar, while Wednesday was already sitting cross-legged on the bed with her notebook; she looked up as Enid flopped down beside her.
“So…” Enid said slowly, rolling onto her side to face her wife. “Family reunion tomorrow.”
Wednesday closed the notebook and placed it carefully on the nightstand. “Indeed.”
Enid bit her lip, studying her. “Are you… nervous?”

Wednesday hesitated, then admitted: “Yes. In a way I dislike. They’re my family, and tomorrow they will finally see you as my wife.”
Enid’s heart softened instantly. She reached out, brushing Wednesday’s hand. “Weds, it’s gonna be okay and I’m sure they’ll be happy for you and treat me in a creepy ‘welcome to the clan’ way, which I’m actually super into.”
That earned the faintest tug at the corner of Wednesday’s lips. “Perhaps.“
Enid grinned, trying to lighten the air. “Wow. Since when do you care what people think? Who even are you and what have you done with my wife?”
Wednesday turned to her fully, eyes dark but softer than usual. “I only care when it concerns you.”
Enid melted instantly, burying her face against Wednesday’s shoulder with a little groan. “Ugh, you can’t just say things like that right before bed, you’ll kill me.”

“How are you feeling for tomorrow?” Wednesday murmured, stroking her hair once.
Enid looked up again. “Can I be honest? I’m kinda nervous too. I mean, what if I say something dumb? Or eat the wrong thing? Or-“
“You won’t,” Wednesday interrupted firmly. “They will find you radiant and disarming. They always fall for the unexpected, and you are the most unexpected thing that ever happened to me. And also, the best human being who ever lived on this planet.”
Enid’s throat tightened. She kissed Wednesday softly, lingering for a moment. “Okay, I feel better. We’ll survive this, right?”
Wednesday’s hand slipped into hers under the covers. “We will. Together.”
Enid beamed, snuggling close as the lights went out. “Power couple taking on the Addams/Frump clan. Tomorrow’s gonna be iconic.”
“Stop using these words.”
“I’m not the one who said ‘cringe’ this afternoon.”
——————
The next morning, the two wives were out with Pancake for a walk.
They had just rounded the bend when a familiar voice called:
“Hey! Addams-Sinclairs!”
Divina jogged up, iced coffee in hand. She took one look at them, then broke into a grin that was way too mischievous for a casual morning greeting.
Enid immediately squinted. “…What did Yoko tell you.”
Divina raised her brows innocently. “Oh, nothing major. Just that apparently Wednesday’s now a professor. And that you-“ she jabbed a finger at Enid “are the most thirsty student she’s ever seen.”
Enid’s face combusted. “YOKO PROMISED-“

Wednesday didn’t flinch, just adjusted her grip on Pancake’s leash. “Yoko is incapable of keeping a promise unless it involves food or stupid stuff.”
Divina nearly spit out her coffee, cackling. “Oh my god, it’s TRUE. She wasn’t exaggerating. You two actually-“ she leaned in, lowering her voice to a dramatic whisper “roleplayed in public.”
Enid slapped her own forehead. “Kill me. Kill me right now. Put me in the ground. WE WEREN’T-“
Divina’s grin only widened. “Honestly? Kinda iconic. You two are living the dream.“
Enid made a strangled noise. “DIVINA-“

Wednesday finally turned her gaze on Divina, calm and cutting. “If you continue speaking, I will ensure every pen you touch for the rest of your academic career leaks ink across your notes.”
Divina choked on a laugh. “Okay, okay! I’ll stop.” She said, still grinning. “But for the record? Ten out of ten. No notes. You two are crazy, and I love it.”
Enid, red as a tomato, tugged Pancake closer. “Okay, Pancake needs her walk, bye!”
But Divina called after them, “Later, Professor!”
Enid groaned louder, covering her face with both hands. “This is never gonna die, is it?”

Wednesday glanced at her, expression unreadable, before leaning in. “No. But I admit, I don’t mind.”
Enid peeked at her suspiciously. “…Because it makes you sound scary-smart?”
Wednesday’s lips curled into the faintest smirk. “Because it makes you blush like this.”
Enid squeaked, nearly tripping over Pancake’s leash.
——————-
Just some hours later, Wednesday found herself alone in her house, almost being eaten alive by her thoughts.
Why did she care that much about what her family thought anyway?
She didn’t know that, but her anxiety kept growing anyway, and her wife not being there to calm her was just making everything worse.

A knock shattered it.
Wednesday stalked to the door, yanked it open. Yoko stood there, sunglasses on, iced coffee in hand, looking way too smug.
“What do you want?” Wednesday’s tone was flat as death. “Enid is at dance practice.”
“Oh, I know.” Yoko breezed past her into the living room like she owned the place. “I’m here for you.”
Wednesday blinked. “That is not a sentence I ever wish to hear again from you.”
Yoko flopped onto the couch, kicking her feet up. “Relax. We need to talk.”

The rest happened behind closed doors, Yoko’s voice excited and up bright; until suddenly, the quiet was broken by a full-volume Wednesday bellow:
“YOU DON’T GET TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO WITH MY MARRIAGE!”
Less than one second later, Yoko shot back, just as loud:
“I WAS JUST SUGGESTING!”
—————
Enid came home humming, bag slung over her shoulder, sweat still clinging to her from practice. She opened the door and a shout nearly made her drop her bag.
She blinked, looking at her wife and her best friend arguing in her living room. “…What the hell?”

When she spotted the exhausted expression on Wednesday’s face, she gasped and rushed to her, throwing her arms around her wife. “Awww, my baby! Are you okay? Did she upset you?” She pulled Wednesday against her chest like a shield, glaring over her shoulder at Yoko. “What did you do to her?!”
Yoko nearly fell off the couch. “WHAT?! Nothing! I didn’t do anything! She’s the one who-“
“Shhh, it’s okay, babe,” Enid cooed, stroking Wednesday’s hair while Wednesday stood stiff. “I’m here now. You don’t have to deal with the mean people.”
“I am not fragile,” Wednesday muttered, though she made no move to escape Enid’s arms.

Yoko threw both hands out. “Hello?? Am I invisible?? I swear I didn’t even-“
Enid snapped her teeth at her. “Don’t raise your voice at her.”
Yoko’s jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding me! I wasn’t raising- oh my god.”
Wednesday tilted her head, almost satisfied, and murmured into Enid’s shoulder, “It’s not often I get to watch Tanaka speechless. Please continue.”
“UNBELIEVABLE,” Yoko groaned, collapsing backward.
Enid kissed Wednesday’s temple. “Don’t worry, love, I’ll protect you.”
“I don’t need protection.” Wednesday’s lips curved just slightly. “But I suppose I don’t mind the… performance.”

“Come on, Enid, I didn’t do anything. You weren’t even here!”
“You think I don’t know when my wife’s upset?” Enid shot back, tightening her hold on Wednesday. “Look at her! She’s trembling!”
Yoko let out a strangled noise. “She’s not-! You two are the worst. The actual worst.” She said, then threw her hands in the air. “Seriously, what alternate reality did I walk into? I didn’t attack her, Enid, I-“

Wednesday turned in Enid’s arms, just enough so her eyes met Yoko’s. They gleamed darkly, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips.
“She did,” Wednesday said evenly. “She attacked me. Verbally.”
Enid gasped so loudly it was theatrical. “You what?” She tightened her grip around Wednesday like a knight shielding a queen. “How dare you!”
“I didn’t-“ Yoko started.

“My wife is right,” Wednesday continued, voice calm. “I am trembling. On the inside. It is dreadful.”
Enid spun toward Yoko, eyes wide and glittering with fury. “You see?! You see what you’ve done?!”
Yoko stared like she was about to keel over. “Oh my god, she’s making this up to mess with me.”
Wednesday tilted her head. “And succeeding.”
Enid gasped again, but this time it was in awe. “You’re so brave,” she whispered, cupping Wednesday’s cheek. “Even trembling, you still stand tall. I’ll protect you, always.” She pressed a dramatic kiss to her forehead.
“Thank you, my shield,” Wednesday murmured, smirk barely contained.
Yoko made a strangled sound. “You guys are literally deranged.”
—————-
As soon as the door slammed shut behind Yoko, the house fell into silence. Wednesday hadn’t moved from Enid’s arms, realizing that her touch was everything she was craving for an hour straight, and maybe (definitely) for the entire week.
Enid cupped her face gently, tilting her head so their eyes met. “Baaabe,” she crooned, soft and worried, “what was that even about? She came here just to fight you?”
Wednesday’s gaze flickered, sharp and unreadable. She hesitated for half a beat too long before replying. “…She was being presumptuous.”
Enid squinted. “About what?”

Wednesday’s lips pressed into a thin line, her dark eyes sliding away. “Nothing worth repeating.”
“Wednesday…” Enid’s voice dropped, pleading now, as her thumbs brushed against her wife’s cheekbones. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Wednesday swallowed hard. Her usual arsenal of sharp retorts faltered under the sheer warmth radiating off Enid. She didn’t want to keep secrets from her, but she knew she couldn’t tell her.
So instead, she simply leaned forward until her forehead pressed against Enid’s. “I know,” she murmured. “But this is… one thing I need to keep in my possession. For now.”

Enid blinked, surprised. “You’re keeping secrets from your own wife? That’s illegal.”
Wednesday let out a low, amused hum. “Arrest me.”
Enid pouted dramatically, but her arms never loosened. “Fine. But whatever it was, if it made you upset, I’ve got your back. Always.”
That made the corners of Wednesday’s lips curl upward, soft and genuine. “I am aware. And I really appreciated the performance.”
————-
Enid bounced from one side of their bedroom to the other, holding up outfit after outfit in front of the mirror like she was auditioning for a fashion show. “Do I go pastel-cute, or dark-academic to match you, or-“
Wednesday, sitting at her desk meticulously straightening a stack of notes she didn’t need, didn’t even glance up. “You are overcompensating.”
Enid whirled around, arms full of shirts. “Of course I’m overcompensating! Your family of scary geniuses is about to walk through our door in two hours and officially meet me as your wife. I need to look… presentable.”

“You could walk in wearing a trash bag,” Wednesday replied flatly, “and they would still be unsettled by how much light you radiate.”
Enid froze, blinking at her. “…Weds. Was that your way of making a compliment? ‘Cause you can do better.”
Wednesday finally looked up, unfazed. “It was an observation.”
Enid beamed anyway, dropping the pile of clothes onto the bed before throwing herself dramatically onto Wednesday’s lap. “Okay, okay, if you’re gonna be calm about this, then you have to share some of that calm with me. Gimme.” She grabbed Wednesday’s face with both hands, squishing her cheeks.
Wednesday scowled, though her hands instinctively gripped Enid’s waist to steady her. “You are crazy.”

“But you love it.” Enid wiggled closer, grinning. Then, a little softer, “Seriously though… how are you not nervous?”
Wednesday’s eyes flickered. She hesitated, just a beat, then murmured, “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t. I just realized that… it is not their approval I care so much about. It is yours. I need you to feel at home with them.”
Enid melted instantly, arms sliding around her neck in a crushing hug. “Oh my god. Don’t worry about it, Weds. I’m gonna love them. I mean, they’re related to you!”
“I hope so.” Wednesday’s lip twitched. “Oh, and if they bring something to eat… do not eat anything green unless I confirm it is food.”
Enid laughed, still clinging to her. “Deal.”

And with that, the doorbell rang with a weight that made the whole house feel heavier.
Enid squeaked. “They’re here!” She immediately started fluffing nonexistent wrinkles out of her skirt. “Oh god, I didn’t even get to choose the outfit! I manifest that they’ll like me and everything will be-“
Wednesday placed a steadying hand on her arm. “If my family disapproves, that is their problem, not yours.” She hesitated, just a fraction. “But I will not allow that to happen.”
Enid’s heart did a triple flip. Before she could answer, Wednesday opened the door.

Uncle Fester burst through. “WEDNESDAY!” he boomed, scooping his niece into a hug that made her hair actually frizz. “Every time I see you you’re always a bit more grown! You look like a little beautiful death flower! And who’s this-“ His eyes landed on Enid. He blinked. “…a rainbow in your foyer?”
Enid gave a nervous wave. “Uh. Hi. I’m Enid.”
More figures filed in: Grandmama muttering about how the neighborhood looked “too alive”, Cassandra silently sketching Enid before even saying hello, Icarus already mumbling about explosive compounds, Persephone clutching her notebook, Damian tapping his fencing blade against his shoulder, and Octavia holding a jar of something that smelled suspiciously swampy.

They all paused, collective eyes narrowing with curiosity at the blonde standing beside Wednesday.
Fester leaned in, whisper-shouting to Wednesday (but loud enough for everyone to hear): “Sooo… who’s the cheerful one? Roommate? Assistant? Hostage?”
Wednesday’s voice cut clean and steady. “This is Enid Addams-Sinclair.”
The family gasped as if she’d announced she’d brought home a ghost.
“And,” Wednesday added, tone flattening with defiance, “she is my wife.”
The room exploded.

Grandmama gasped so hard it turned into a cough, Icarus dropped his satchel and muttered “combustion imminent”, Persephone raised her brows, Damian’s smirk faltered into open shock and Octavia squinted.
And Uncle Fester clutched his heart and yelled, “MY LITTLE GIRL GOT MARRIED WITHOUT ME?!”
Enid, red-faced but beaming, lifted the tray of black cupcakes like an offering. “Surprise?”

Cassandra’s pencil actually snapped in her hand. She stared at the broken tip, then at Enid. “… Wife?”
Icarus dropped the little vial he’d been fiddling with.
“You… got married? And none of us got invited?!”
Damian muttered, “Unbelievable. You couldn’t even let me duel your spouse first? Isn’t that tradition?”
Persephone blinked rapidly, as though trying to reframe her entire image of Wednesday. “You… you eloped? Secretly? With…” her gaze softened on Enid, “…with someone so sunny?”
Octavia recovered first. “…I mean, I always knew you had gay vibes. But ‘get a wife at eighteen’ gay vibes? Did not see that one coming. Oscar owes me for the confirmed gay vibes tho.”
Damian shook his head, half-laughing now. “Wednesday. Married. Before the rest of us. Unreal. Guess you win again.”

Persephone leaned forward, voice softer. “I always thought you’d never let anyone close. I was wrong, and she seems… right for you.”
Enid’s jaw dropped, tears pricking her eyes. “So… are you guys mad or not?”
Uncle Fester slammed both hands on the table, grinning like a maniac. “Mad?! Kid, I’m ecstatic! Of course, I’d be happier if I had the chance to be at the wedding, but I guess Wednesday doesn’t like her uncle Fester anymore.”
“It’s not like-“ Wednesday started, but then had to stop to look at what was happening in front of her: Grandmama was giving Enid a long, squinty once-over, just before nodding. “You’ll do. Just don’t lose to me at cards too badly, or I’ll know you’re faking.”

Enid let out a laugh, clutching Wednesday’s hand tighter. “Oh my god, they’re actually okay with it.” she whispered to Wednesday, who lifted her chin, cool as ever, though her thumb brushed reassuringly across Enid’s knuckles. “I told you. They would not dare disapprove.”
—————
They were barely five minutes into sitting down when Icarus came bounding in from wherever he’d vanished earlier, clutching something wrapped in what looked like duct tape and burnt parchment.
“For the brides!” he declared, dropping it dramatically onto the table. “A gift. Handmade. One of a kind. Possibly cursed.”
Enid blinked. “…Is it supposed to still be smoking?”
“Only a little,” Icarus assured her, peeling back the parchment to reveal a lopsided lamp with copper wires sticking out at odd angles. “See, it flickers in Morse code. I programmed it to whisper secrets to each other subconsciously while you sleep.”

Enid’s jaw dropped. “That’s… terrifying. And kind of sweet?”
Wednesday tilted her head, eyes glinting. “You attempted subliminal communication through faulty wiring. I’m impressed.”
“Go on, plug it in!” Icarus urged. “You’ll love it.”
Against her better judgment, Enid gamely carried the lamp to the nearest outlet. The second the prongs hit the socket… CRACK; the entire house went dark.
“ICARUS!” Damian and Octavia shouted in unison.
From across the table, Cassandra groaned. “Every single time. Why do we even let you near electricity?”
Persephone shook her head, muttering, “One day he’s going to electrocute himself and claim it was for art.”, and then turned to Enid “Don’t worry. The wiring usually comes back in… twenty minutes. Maybe an hour.”

Enid had dissolved into hysterical laughter, clutching her stomach. “Oh my god. This is- this is literally perfect.“
Wednesday, perfectly composed in the darkness, simply folded her hands. “Yeah, finally. Ambience.”
That sent Enid over the edge, laughing so hard she had to hide her face against her wife’s shoulder.
——————-
As soon as the snacks were laid out, everyone crowded around, grabbing plates, chatting over each other in a way that was somehow loud and creepy-flat at the same time.
“Wow, Wednesday,” Grandmama rasped as she reached for a cookie, squinting across the table. “You invited that weird Addams uncle of yours, again.”
Uncle Fester choked on his cupcake. “Weird?! I’m a pillar of her family!”
“You’re a pain in the neck, Fester,” Grandmama shot back.
“Better than being a dusty old bat who cheats at poker!” Fester lunged at her, mock-snarling, while Persephone and Octavia calmly kept eating like this was background noise.

Enid’s eyes went saucer-wide. “Are they… are they fighting?”
Wednesday, deadpan as ever, answered, “They’re just playing. Please don’t cry.”
That did not help Enid’s expression.
Eventually, everyone settled with their plates, and conversation drifted toward the subject Enid had been both dreading and secretly hoping for: their marriage.
“So,” Cassandra began, sharp gaze flicking between them. “Married so young... bold move.”
“Bold?” Damian scoffed, mouth full. “It’s downright shocking. My little cousin, domesticated.”
Wednesday arched an eyebrow.

Grandmama, meanwhile, had grabbed Enid’s wrist before she could react. “Let me see your palm, girl.”
Enid sputtered. “Oh- uh, I already know I’m married, thanks.”
“Yes, yes, but did you know you’ll be married forever?” Grandmama traced a finger over her hand. “My granddaughter is clinging like a spiderweb. No escape.”
Enid melted right into her chair, cheeks pink, eyes soft.
Wednesday just nodded, stone-faced but proud. “Accurate.”
Uncle Fester leaned across the table. “Don’t worry, Enid. If you ever do want to escape, I can build a tunnel system under the backyard.”
“Fester.” Wednesday snapped.
“What? She should know her options!”
Enid giggled, leaning against Wednesday’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
Wednesday tightened her arm slightly around her wife, silent agreement glowing behind her usual calm.

“Speaking about you, sunshine girl,” Fester started, slapping his hands together so hard the cupcake tray rattled. “Move aside, everybody. It’s time.”
“Oh no.” Wednesday said, expression so desperate it was clear she was ready to run away.
“Oh, yes.” Cassandra said, a clear smirk on her face.
“Time for… what, exactly?” Enid asked, both scared and excited.
“The embarrassing in-law welcome speech. You’re gonna love this” Persephone assured her.
“I heard he scared our cousin Mable’s new husband last year. Mom says he ran away without her.” Damian said.
“Oh, shut up, my speeches are always appreciated by newlyweds. Well, almost always. Morticia totally loved the one I gave her, tho!” Fester said.

“Enid Addams-Sinclair, you have joined the madhouse. You’ve tied your fate to an Addams, which, as we all know, comes with… consequences. There are no refunds, no customer service line. Only eternal entanglement in cobwebs, unsolicited séance invites, and occasional hauntings from distant relatives who can’t take a hint.”
Icarus groaned. “He’s really doing this.”
Fester pressed on, louder: “You are now entitled to lifetime supplies of black attire, funeral invitations, and a seat at the poker table.”
Grandmama nodded approvingly.

“Once you marry an Addams, you are one of us. Forever. Til death do you part, and then some. And believe me, sweetheart, even death won’t get you out of it, that’s just when the real fun begins. But. All of this is just if you treat our Wednesday right; because, if someone of us will someday hear that you’ll be doing or saying or even thinking things you shouldn’t about her, you’ll be doomed to have a slow and painful-“
“Fester.” Wednesday warned, concerned by Enid’s horrified and worried expression.
“What? I’m just letting her know! Also, here’s the turn. Since we all protect every single family member, you’re now included in our list of people we defend to death, against anything and anyone. We always stand together, kid, remember that.”

The cousins clapped sarcastically, but Enid’s whole face was glowing pink, hands over her mouth as if this was the best thing she’d ever heard.
Fester leaned in close for the finale. “So, Enid. Welcome. You’ve got glitter on your hands, all of our eyes on you, and my niece’s black heart in your pocket. Which means…” He spread his arms wide. “…you’re officially one of us. God help you.”
Everyone groaned, except Enid, who teared up. “That was actually… so sweet?”
Wednesday deadpanned, “I regret inviting him.”

Cassandra smiled, “Well, Wednesday, you have to admit that this was a better wedding speech than whatever you said when you got married.”
Persephone leaned her chin on her palm, smiling slyly. “Imagine. Enid gets a heartfelt declaration, and Wednesday’s contribution was probably something like, ‘I suppose I’ll tolerate you forever.’”
“Was it?” Octavia cut in, eyes glittering with mischief. “Because I know it was.”
Both Enid and Wednesday’s checks were so red they looked like they were about to explode.
“Well, guys, actually… she’s been pretty romantic lately” Enid muttered, and everyone acted surprised; except for Fester.

Grandmama leaned forward with a sly grin. “Speaking of marriage, dear… why didn’t you take Frump as your new married last name?”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “Why would we?”
Grandmama gasped, looking shocked and almost offended.
Fester jumped in, throwing an arm around Wednesday’s shoulders. “Yeah, Addams pride! None of that Frump nonsense.”
“Addams-Sinclair pride.” Wednesday corrected, “And don’t touch me.” She said, freeing herself from her uncle.
”I’m so sorry Mrs. Frump, we-“ Enid tried to say, but Wednesday interrupted her.
“Don’t.” She just said. “Don’t feed her delusions.”

Octavia leaned back in her chair, smirking as she propped her chin on her hand. “So, Enid… what’s it like being married to her?” She tilted her head toward Wednesday.
Icarus leaned in eagerly. “Do you have to, like, sign a waiver to sleep in the same bed? In case she experiments on you in the night?”
Enid laughed nervously. “Uhm, no waiver. And she hasn’t experimented on me… yet.”
Damian twirled a toothpick. “But does she duel you when she’s mad? You know, en garde, spousal combat?”
That made Enid light up, proud and fond all at once. “Honestly? I already told you guys. She’s… softer than you’d think.”
The cousins all oohed dramatically, and Octavia clutched her chest. “Soft? Her? Impossible.”

“Not impossible,” Enid countered, grinning. “She, like, sneaks me tea when I’m sick. And she let me win one game of Scrabble. Once.”
“That’s love,” Persephone muttered.
Grandmama cackled. “Careful, girl. Admit she’s soft in public, she’ll punish you for it.”
Enid snuck a glance at Wednesday, who was sitting very still, but the twitch of her lips betrayed her. “Worth it,” Enid whispered, and the cousins erupted in laughter.
—————
Minutes later, Damian had already randomly challenged Wednesday on a duel.
Out in the yard, he tossed Wednesday a foil with a smirk.
“It’s been months, prima. Don’t tell me you’ve gone that soft living with your wife.”
Wednesday caught the weapon mid-air like it was nothing. Her eyes narrowed. “You’ll regret that sentence in approximately thirty seconds.”
They squared off. The cousins gathered in a loose semicircle, buzzing. Enid stood front and center, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Go, babe!” she shouted, cupping her hands. “Take him down! Stab his heart!”
Damian blinked. “…That’s a little much for a practice bout.”
Enid just waved wildly, bouncing on her toes. “Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for this! She looks so hot in that stance, oh my god. Aehm, good. I meant that she… she looks good.”
Persephone muttered, notebook in hand, “I’m stealing that line for my werewolf novel. Mate watching mate duel… tragic and romantic.”
“WHAT THE-“ Enid started, horrified expression pointed at Persephone.
Octavia smirked. “She’s not even trying to hide how thirsty she is.”

The bout began. Wednesday moved elegantly, each step precise, each parry a crack of lightning; Enid let out a squeal so loud Cassandra flinched and nearly dropped her pencil.
“YESS, WIFE, SHOW HIM HOW IT’S DONE!” Enid screamed.
Damian froze mid-lunge.
Wednesday, without missing a beat, flicked his blade aside and tapped his chest with her foil. “Point.”
“UNFAIR,” Damian groaned, throwing his head back. “She distracted me!”
“Cry harder.” Wednesday deadpanned.
Enid gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “Ugh, she’s so mean… I love her.”

Between thrusts and parries, Damian sidestepped and lowered his blade just enough to speak. “Why didn’t you introduce her sooner? I thought we were… close. But you didn’t even invite us to the wedding.”
Wednesday’s eyes flicked toward him, calm but lethal. Her foil sliced through the air, and she leaned in slightly, her voice cold. “Because you’re all insufferable, and she deserves better than exposure to you before I deemed it survivable.”
Damian smirked, spinning his weapon with a casual flourish. “So she’s permanent, huh?”
Wednesday’s sword paused, mere millimeters from his throat, and she met his gaze evenly. “She’s eternal.”

A moment of silence between the two of them followed, then Damian’s grin softened into genuine respect; he lowered his blade completely, raising his hands in mock surrender.
The cousins, who had been silently observing, erupted into slow, eerie applause.
Enid, meanwhile, practically vibrated with excitement, clapping and whispering, “That’s my wife… my hot, scary, perfect wife.”
Wednesday allowed a faint twitch of a smirk at her corner. Then she lowered her foil fully, letting the absurdity of the family’s applause wash over the yard.

Then, Enid’s voice came again: “Round two! Round two! Round two!”
When the two cousins reprised their duel, Enid was practically vibrating on the sidelines: every strike Wednesday made, every pivot, every flick of her foil, Enid gasped and whispered loud enough for half the cousins to hear, “Yes! That’s my wife! Ooooh, look at her stance! So precise! She’s amazing!”
“New cousin,” Damian’s voice sliced through the air mid-thrust. “You are distracting us.”
“Oh no, no, no,” Enid protested, waving her hands frantically. “I’m encouraging! She’s perfect! I love her! Did you see that? Did you see that strike?”
Wednesday’s eyebrows quirked, unimpressed but secretly flattered. “I did not ask for an audience appraisal.”
“You’re my wife! I get to have an audience appraisal!” Enid insisted, bouncing slightly on her heels. “I’m taking notes. I might even- oh my god, can I take a picture? No, don’t move, I want the perfect angle! This will be my forever lock screen wallpaper!”

Damian, mid-pause with his foil tip trembling slightly, muttered under his breath, “I’ve never seen someone cheer this hard for fencing.”
Fester, lurking in the background, chuckled, talking to Wednesday. “Addams wives are territorial, but yours seems… hyper-territorial.”
Wednesday, letting out the tiniest sigh, rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the faint twitch of a smirk. Somehow, the chaos of Enid’s adoration made the duel feel almost… fun.
And Enid, oblivious to the sharp, intense world of Wednesday’s fencing precision, continued her nonstop commentary. “Perfect form! Ooooh, yes! You’re so terrifyingly gorgeous when you’re serious like that!”
Wednesday froze mid-parry, a heavy flush coloring her pale cheeks.

The cousins exchanged amused, wide-eyed glances, silently acknowledging that the fact that Wednesday - the fearsome, stoic girl they always knew - had now somehow found Enid - the chaotic, adoring storm that followed her everywhere - was the best thing that could happen to their cousin.
Wednesday’s foil clinked against Damian’s one last time, and she stepped back, lowering it with deliberate precision.
“This is for telling my wife to stop cheering because she was distracting.” She said, walking away.
The duel was over; technically a draw, though everyone knew they could have gone on forever.
The yard erupted. Cassandra let out a faint, impressed whistle. “Not bad.”
Damian smirked, sheathing his foil. “Respect earned, Wednesday. Enid seems… very enthusiastic about it too. I’m sorry about trying to stop that enthusiasm.”

Enid’s hands were practically shaking with excitement. “Did you see her lunge? Her footwork? The way she- oh my god, I can’t even! My wife! My amazing, terrifying, gorgeous wife!” She practically leapt forward, wrapping her arms around Wednesday in a hug that made the cousins blink.
Wednesday even allowed herself a small smile. “Enid, your… enthusiasm is noted.”
“Noted?” Enid squeaked, pressing her cheek to Wednesday’s. “I adore you! You’re so perfect when you’re scary and sharp!”
Grandmama gasped from the porch. “She got her to blush. My granddaughter blushed. Unacceptable.”
“Absolutely disgraceful,” Fester muttered, though his eyes twinkled. “And yet… heartwarming.”

Enid kissed Wednesday lightly on the temple. “I love watching you do what you love. And you’re amazing at it.”
Wednesday’s expression softened, and she leaned into her wife’s touch.
——————-
When they all came back inside, Enid slipped into the bedroom, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, her cheeks flushed. She leaned against the doorframe, exhaling softly. “Weds, can… can we talk?”
Wednesday turned from setting her blade back in its case. “Tell me.”
“Did I embarrass you, out there?” Enid asked, her cheeks even redder now, her gaze fixed firmly on her own shoes.
Wednesday’s head tilted, her brow knitting. “Embarrass me?”
Enid shifted from foot to foot, wringing her hands. “You know… I was cheering way too hard for you. Like, I was literally yelling my lungs out, and then I hugged you in front of everyone, and they looked so shocked. I don’t know, I just… maybe I was too much.”

For a long, tense moment, Wednesday just stared at her. Then, without a word, she crossed the room, standing directly in front of her wife. Her hands found Enid’s wrists, gently pulling them apart so she’d stop fidgeting. Wednesday’s eyes were dark, steady, and unflinching.
“Enid,” she said softly, her voice low and deliberate, “you could never embarrass me. Do you understand? When you were cheering for me, I felt… proud. Not because I was winning, but because you were the one who wanted me to.”
Enid’s breath caught, her chest warming instantly. “You… were proud of me?”

Wednesday nodded, almost imperceptibly, but her grip on Enid’s wrists tightened, grounding her. “You are not too much, you could never be too much for me. And for this family, who apparently seems to think devotion is the key to a long and successful marriage.”
Enid melted on the spot, her lips parting in awe. “Wednesday…”
Softness flashed in Wednesday’s eyes as she leaned just slightly closer, enough that her breath brushed against Enid’s cheek. “I liked it,” she whispered.
Enid blinked. “Liked what?”
Wednesday’s mouth curved into a faint wicked smirk. “The way you were looking at me, like you wanted to devour me right there.”
Enid squeaked, her whole face igniting pink. “Wednesday! Oh my god-“

Wednesday’s smirk deepened, almost predatory and amused. “Don’t deny it, you were practically salivating. I could feel your gaze on me like a second blade.”
Enid hid her face in her hands. “Okay, maybe a little. But you were so hot! All confident and lethal and- ugh- stop looking at me like that!”
Wednesday reached up, gently pulling her hands away so she could see her blush in full view. Her tone was low, but laced with fondness. “Why would I stop? You’re adorable when you’re flustered. And, for the record, I enjoy when you look at me that way. Do it more often.”
Enid’s knees nearly gave out. “Weds… you- you just called me adorable.” She whispered, practically trembling.

Wednesday leaned in. “You want to cheer for me? Then do it. I will never tire of it. And as for hugging me in front of them…” her smirk widened, “…they should get used to it. I intend to have your arms around me for the rest of my life.”
Enid let out the tiniest whimper before throwing her arms around Wednesday’s neck, hugging her tight, hiding her burning face in her shoulder. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days.”
Wednesday’s hand slid over her waist, pulling her closer. “Not kill. Claim. Eternally.”
Enid melted completely, clinging to her like her whole world, then pulled back to meet her gaze, eyes wide and shimmering, just to surge forward and press her lips to Wednesday’s a few seconds later.

Wednesday kissed back instantly: hungry, firm, needy of her wife’s affection. Enid gasped softly against her mouth, then deepened the kiss, fingers threading into her wife’s perfectly braided dark hair. For a few precious moments, nothing else existed: just the heat, the closeness, the sound of their breaths tangling together.
And then…
“Briiiiides! Are you ready for pok- oh.”
They broke apart just enough to see Uncle Fester standing in the doorway, grin stretching ear to ear.
Enid froze, face turning an impossible shade of red. “Oh my-“

Fester didn’t miss a beat. “Ah, young love! Takes me back. You know, Wednesday, your mom and dad used to be just like that, couldn’t keep their hands off each other for more than three minutes. Actually-“ he leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice but still way too loud “they still can’t. Family dinners are a nightmare, and they’re gonna be even worse now.”
“OH MY GOD” Enid squeaked, mortified, burying her face in Wednesday’s shoulder again.
Wednesday, however, didn’t even blink. She turned her head slightly, her tone flat but edged with ice. “If you wish to avoid early cremation, I suggest you stop speaking.”
Fester just cackled, delighted. “Ha! You’re just like Morticia. She used to say that exact same thing in the early days!”
“Stop. Now.” Wednesday said, her gaze dangerous.
Enid whimpered into Wednesday’s shoulder. “Why is this my life?”
Wednesday’s hand rubbed slow circles against her back. “Because you married into it.“
“Yeah,” Fester added, still grinning as he backed toward the door, “no refunds, only hauntings. I already told you earlier, sunshine. Now hurry up, poker waits for no one!”

The moment he left, Enid groaned, pulling away just far enough to look at Wednesday, her face crimson. “Oh my god, Wednesday. He saw us mid like… ultimate, Hall of Fame, makeout session.”
Wednesday smoothed her braid, entirely unbothered. “We were interrupted, yes. How tragic.”
“Tragic?” Enid squeaked. “Weds, he didn’t just catch us, he said we’re like your parents! Your parents! Do you know what that means?”
“Yes,” Wednesday replied evenly, stepping closer so Enid had to back against the doorframe. “It means our affection is timeless, eternal, real. I may not be my parents’ greatest admirer, but their bond is… undeniable, and the only comparison to them I will ever allow is between their love and ours.”

Enid made a strangled little noise, somewhere between a squeak and a laugh. “Oh my god. You can’t just drop poetry like that when we were literally caught mid-makeout. I can’t- my brain is fried.”
“Good,” Wednesday murmured. “I enjoy watching you short-circuit.”
Enid slapped her arm lightly. “You seriously just called us timeless and eternal. You know what that does to me?”
Wednesday’s lips brushed her ear. “Yes. And I intend to weaponize it. Frequently.”
Enid’s whole body shivered. “God, you’re evil. Evil and-“ she tugged Wednesday’s braid with a smirk, “-unfairly hot with a sword in your hand. You knew what you were doing out there, making me lose my mind.”

“I always know what I’m doing,” Wednesday replied. “Especially when it comes to you.” She let her fingers ghost down Enid’s arm, stopping just above her wrist, deliberately not holding her.
Enid gasped, eyes wide. “You’re such a tease. One day, I’m not letting you get away with it.”
Wednesday finally closed the gap, her mouth hovering just shy of Enid’s. “And when that day comes… I’ll make you beg to be teased again.”
Enid made a tiny, helpless noise that turned into a laugh. “Oh my- You’re actually insane. And I’m… so obsessed with you.”
“Appropriately so,” Wednesday whispered, smirking, leaning in to kiss Enid.
“LOVEBIRDS!” Icarus’ voice bellowed from the other room. “We’re waiting for you!”
Enid froze, her face flaming. “Oh my god, I can’t- your family is literally hating us right now.”
Wednesday didn’t even blink. “Let them. They’ll learn what it means to interrupt.”
——————
The living room table was cleared and covered with an Addams-appropriate dark velvet cloth. Icarus was stacking chips into precarious towers while Cassandra leaned back in her chair like she was plotting an assassination instead of a game.
Enid busied herself setting out little bowls of snacks, and Wednesday hovered at her side, not helping but watching her every move with unnerving focus.
“You’re staring,” Enid whispered, elbowing her gently.
“I’m observing,” Wednesday corrected, sliding a bowl closer to center. “It’s fascinating to watch how you insist on symmetry in an environment of such chaos. You’re starting to be a little bit like me, did you notice?”
Enid smirked, leaning closer as she set down the last bowl. “You could just say you like looking at me, you know.”
Wednesday’s lips twitched. “Redundancy is a sin.”

Cassandra, without looking up, muttered, “You two are nauseating.”
“Envy doesn’t suit you,” Wednesday shot back smoothly, placing a hand at the small of Enid’s back.
“Ugh. I thought we’d be able to breathe a little bit without Uncle Gomez and Aunt Morticia here, shoving their mutual devotion to our faces. Turns out, it still looks like they’re here.” Octavia said, rolling her eyes.
Enid’s blush returned instantly, but she grinned through it, sliding into the chair next to Wednesday. “Oh my god, Wednesday, this is the second time we get this today”
Wednesday didn’t even blink. “I’m afraid it won’t be the last.”

Enid buried her face in her hands. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Immensely,” Wednesday replied. “My family has finally witnessed that I’ve managed to outdo my parents in this regard. My devotion is unmatched.”
“Wednesday!” Enid squeaked, peeking out between her fingers.
Persephone tilted her head, her gaze sharp. “It’s unusual. I’ve never seen her so… obvious.”
Grandma raised her eyebrows. “Terrifying.”
Uncle Fester snorted. “And hilarious.”

Wednesday’s hand drifted over, fingers brushing Enid’s hair like it was second nature. “Take comfort, wife. They mock because they envy and they don’t understand. No one else did or will ever inspire this level of fixation in me.”
Enid peeked up, bright red and starry-eyed. “That… is not helping me survive this.”
“I know.” Wednesday murmured, smirking.
Octavia rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful. “Ugh, you two are so- can we just get the poker game going before you start making out right here?”
——————
The cousins had been shuffling chips into uneven piles and violently shuffling cards down when Enid realized something strange was happening.
“Wait,” she blinked, watching Cassandra casually pull a card from her jacket pocket. She laid it face-up on the table: a Queen of Clubs, except the crown was black and dripping with what looked suspiciously like blood.
Then Icarus dropped his card: an Ace of Hearts, sketched so the heart was cracked open, wax dripping over it like a candle. Persephone followed with a Jack of Diamonds split into two halves, a wilted rose growing from the fissure. Damian added a Two of Spades with crossed blades and a dueling mask.
Even Octavia, quiet until then, set down a King of Clubs where the club had been drawn into a twisted tree branch.

Enid’s jaw dropped. “Uhh… did you all… vandalize the deck?”
Fester cackled, slapping down his Seven of Spades, with seven bombs drawn beneath a stick figure that looked a lot like him. “Vandalize? No, no, this is tradition. Every one of us has their card, that automatically goes wild if they carry it.”
Grandmama leaned forward, gnarled fingers placing her own Ace of Spades. The skeletal hand clutching a vial stared up at Enid.
Enid looked around the table, wide-eyed. “Wait, so you all just… carry those around? Like, all the time?”
Damian smirked. “Obviously. Can’t play without your card.”

Her gaze flicked to Wednesday, who without ceremony slid out her own card and placed it face-up in the center.
The Queen of Spades.
Enid’s breath caught. The queen’s face had been redrawn half as a skull, half cold and expressionless, and in one hand, instead of a scepter, she clutched a violin bow dripping with red ink like it had just been used as a blade.
It was terrifying and beautiful and so perfectly Wednesday that Enid forgot to breathe for a second.
Cassandra leaned back, crossing her arms. “So. What about her?” She jerked her chin toward Enid.
Enid blinked. “Me?”
“You’re in the family now.” Icarus said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You need a card.”
Immediately the table erupted into debate.

Grandmama banged her palm against the table. “Enough. The deck will choose.”
The entire room went quiet and everyone leaned in like it was about to be some sacred ritual.
Enid was fidgeting with her hands, nervous. “Uh. Okay. Sure.”
Grandmama took the deck and shuffled violently, muttering in some language Enid couldn’t quite catch. Then she spread the cards out face-down in a crooked line across the table.
“Choose,” she intoned.
Enid looked helplessly at Wednesday. Her wife’s expression was unreadable, but her dark eyes were locked on her like she was the only thing in the room.
Enid blew out a breath, shut her eyes, and reached out dramatically. Her hand hovered, fingers twitching with nerves, and she finally touched one, pulled it free, and flipped it over.
The Queen of Hearts.

Enid blinked at it. “…Hearts? That’s it? That’s my creepy spooky family ritual destiny card? The one that’s gonna haunt me forever?”
Persephone leaned in, voice low and serious. “It’s perfect. Nothing is more terrifying than sincerity.”
Grandmama nodded sagely. “Indeed. A symbol of foolish, unbreakable devotion. Truly cursed.”
The whole table hummed with approval.
Enid stared at the card, her cheeks turning scarlet. “You’re saying… my big scary initiation just declared me, like, THE Hopelessly Devoted Wife?”
“Precisely.” Grandmama said, deadpan.
Cassandra smirked. “Well, you’ve got ‘doe-eyed forever love’ written all over you.”
Damian rolled his eyes. “She was screaming her lungs out for Wednesday’s fencing earlier. That’s devotion if I’ve ever seen it.”
Icarus tilted his head. “Hopelessly devoted, hopelessly doomed. Same thing.”

Enid hid her face in her hands. “This is so embarrassinggg.”
Wednesday’s lips twitched, almost a smile. “…I approve.”
Enid peeked through her fingers at her wife, who was staring at her with that same dark, intense gaze. The weight of it was enough to make her squirm.
“You approve?” Enid mumbled, trying to sound annoyed but mostly melting.
Wednesday leaned just close enough that only she could hear. “Hopelessly devoted suits you.”
Enid squeaked into her palms.
“Okay!” Damian shouted from across the table, smacking his hand down on the chips. “Now stop flirting and start poker!”
Enid groaned, her entire face red, Wednesday calmly picked up her cards like nothing had happened.
————-
The game was in full swing: cards snapping down, chips clattering and sometimes falling, and the candlelight flickering shadows over the table in a way that made everything feel like a creepy ritual instead of a poker night.
Persephone, laying down her card with a sly smirk, broke the silence in her usual macabre way:
“‘Beware; for I am fearless-‘“
Without missing a beat, Wednesday placed hers on top:
“‘-and therefore powerful.’”
They both said it in unison, voices perfectly flat, almost like a ritual.

A collective groan rose from the rest of the table. One cousin faked fainting onto the table, another rolled their eyes so hard it was audible.
“Ugh, not again,” Octavia muttered, tossing her chips down. “We get it. Creepy cousins’ book club.”
Enid leaned toward Wednesday, whispering: “Do you two… rehearse this?”
Wednesday’s eyes didn’t leave her cards. “No. We both simply think correctly.”

While the others were still muttering about “goth recital hour,” Octavia leaned across the table, her dark eyes narrowing at Enid like she was examining a rare species.
“Wow,” she said, tilting her head. “New cousin, your skin is glowing. Like, it screams ‘skincare addict’ and honestly, it works. Do you… want to try one of my creams? I do them myself.”
Enid smiled, flattered by the compliment. “Yeah, sure! What’s in them?”
Octavia was already rummaging through her bag, pulling out a tiny jar with a crooked, handwritten label. She listed the ingredients with the same casual tone someone else might use for a cookie recipe:
“Powdered beetle shells for gentle exfoliation… a whisper of embalming fluid - just a drop, don’t panic - for preservation… and an infusion of rose leaves I found on the ground in a cemetery. Completely natural.”

Enid’s smile disappeared, and she now looked like she’d just been handed a tarantula. “NOPE. Nope, nope, nope. I’ll pass, thanks.”
“Just a dab,” Octavia pressed. “Give me your wrist. You’ll thank me.”
Sighing, half horrified but half curious, Enid finally let Octavia smear a tiny amount onto the back of her hand. She braced for burning, itching… something.
Instead, the cream melted in like silk, leaving her skin impossibly soft. Enid gasped. “Wait, that’s- that’s actually amazing. What the hell?”
Octavia smirked like she’d just won a Nobel Prize. “See? Don’t question the herbalist.”
Enid kept rubbing the spot, eyes wide. “It’s so smooth. Like ridiculously smooth. This doesn’t make any sense.”

Wednesday’s voice slid into the conversation, deadpan as ever:
“Tragic. Now you’ll never escape her clutches.”
The table chuckled darkly, Grandmama muttering something about doing anything to impress the in laws and the wife under her breath. Enid, red-faced and glowing, looked at Wednesday like she was searching for rescue, but found none.
Instead, Wednesday placed her hand over Enid’s shoulder, thumb pressing lightly against her collarbone. She leaned closer, her voice just low enough for Enid:
“Now you’re even more irresistible. Entirely inescapable.”
Enid’s blush deepened into full tomato mode. “You’re absolutely not helping.”
“I know.” Wednesday replied simply, and pressed the faintest kiss to Enid’s wrist, right where the cream had been applied.

Enid practically melted into her chair while Persephone recited another brooding line about doomed devotion and Fester loudly announced he wanted a jar of Octavia’s cream for “mysterious purposes.”
The poker game picked up again, but with a new energy: Enid was glowing (literally), a little dizzy, and completely swept into the family’s strange, chaotic rhythm.

During the game, Cassandra leaned against the edge of the table, tilting her head as she regarded Enid with sharp, calculating eyes. “You bite your lip when you’re nervous, you use your hands too much when you talk, and you cover for her moods by smiling wider than necessary,” she said, her tone casual, like she was commenting on the weather.
Enid froze, a blush spreading across her cheeks. “Uh… wow, you sound just like a therapist with eyeliner,” she said.
Cassandra smirked. “I’m not diagnosing you. I’m… admiring. You fit her perfectly.”
Enid’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
Cassandra shrugged elegantly. “It’s true. Most people wilt under Wednesday’s… intensity. You, however… you absorb it, you mirror her rhythms, you belong with her. It’s fascinating.”
Enid blinked, caught between flustered and flattered. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, muttering, “Wow.”
Sat beside her, Wednesday was quietly arranging her cards, but her head snapped up just long enough to give Cassandra a slow, approving nod, the faintest curve of a smile at the corner of her lips.

The poker game started to be loud and chaotic again, but in a weirdly cozy way. Chips clicked, cousins argued, Persephone and Wednesday recited dueling Poe lines, and Enid was busy trying not to puke as Octavia explained how “powdered beetles give the perfect exfoliation.”
After a dramatic win, Grandmama leaned back in her chair, and her voice suddenly cut across the table:
“You two.” Her eyes fixed on Wednesday and Icarus. “It’s time.”
Icarus sat up straight like a kid called to the front of the class; in contrast, Wednesday didn’t move at all, but her dark eyes sharpened.

Grandmama tapped a finger on the table. “You’ve been waiting your whole lives, poking around in my workshop, stealing my notebooks. And now you’re grown. It’s time for you to learn the family business properly, so you can take it in the years to come. I meant to tell you at Christmas, but here we are now. As you of course know, you’ll need to come to my city, full-time, living under my roof, to learn properly.”

The silence lasted half a beat, then Icarus nearly flipped the table in excitement.
“YES. Oh my god, yes, FINALLY! I’ve been waiting for this! I already have fifty-three ideas-“ he knocked his cards onto the floor, “-no, seventy-three, actually. Grandmama, you won’t regret this, I’ll make you so proud!”
He was practically glowing. The cousins were shocked, rolling their eyes fondly.
But Wednesday stayed still. Too still.
Her hands, usually so calm, held her cards a fraction too tightly, and her lips didn’t move.
And Enid noticed, of course.
Her smile faltered just slightly as she glanced at her wife. Anyone else would have missed it, but Enid had studied every micro-expression Wednesday ever let slip. The quiet tightening of her jaw, the shadows behind her eyes, Wednesday wasn’t thrilled, she looked… sad.
And yet she didn’t say anything.

Enid forced her own smile back onto her face, but inside, her thoughts churned.
A pit opened in her stomach: she hadn’t even known this was on the table, Wednesday had never mentioned it; never warned her this could happen.
Would she move away? Without her?
Across the table, Icarus was still practically vibrating, asking when they’d start, how soon they could pack, if he should bring his lab equipment.
Grandmama just said, “Not tonight, but soon. Patience, young man.”
Wednesday still sat in silence, unreadable, but
Enid’s eyes never left her. The cousins were still talking about the family business, and arguing over whether Icarus’s last experiment counted as “science” or “terrorism,” but Enid gently set her cards down.

“Hey, Weds,” she said lightly, putting her hand on Wednesday’s arm. “Bathroom break?”
Wednesday’s eyes flicked toward her, caught the subtext instantly, and gave a near-imperceptible nod.
Enid tugged her up and out of the room, guiding her to their bedroom; the moment the door shut, Enid turned, crossing her arms.
“Okay. What’s wrong? I know that face.”
Wednesday tilted her chin, defensive by reflex. “You presume too much.”
Enid raised a brow. “Wednesday, I’ve memorized your faces like flashcards. That one was the ‘quiet existential crisis’ face. Now spill.”

Silence stretched, then Wednesday let out a soft exhale and collapsed into the bed.
“I once thought there was no future more fitting for me than learning under Grandmama,” she admitted, voice low. “It felt inevitable, and very right for me. I wanted it for so long I even thought wanting it defined me.” Her shoulders tightened. “And yet when she offered it tonight… I felt nothing but dread.”
Enid sat beside her instantly, hand brushing against hers until their fingers laced.
Wednesday’s voice cracked at the edges, not weak, just raw. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to abandon my studies, or my novel, or this… life I’ve built with you. That’s what I want now, and I’m sure that this is the life that’s actually right for me. But the thought of disappointing her… it claws at me.”

Enid’s heart melted and shattered at the same time. She squeezed Wednesday’s hand tight. “Hey. Look at me.”
Wednesday turned, dark eyes vulnerable in a way Enid knew she’d show no one else.
“You’re not disappointing her,” Enid whispered fiercely. “You’re not disappointing anyone. You’re allowed to change your mind, and that doesn’t erase or change who you are… it just means you grew. And if one day you realize you do still want it? That’s okay too. After your training, I could… you know, I could move in with you there. I don’t even know where this whole dance-communication-influencer-whatever thing I’m trying will take me yet, so maybe I’ll just follow you and-“
Wednesday’s grip tightened suddenly. “No.”
Enid blinked. “No?”
“What you’re doing will take you very far, Enid,” Wednesday said firmly, almost like a vow. “Do not even try to underestimate yourself. And no, I don’t want you following me into some dusty workshop in another city in who knows how many years. I’m not spending a day away from you, let alone years of training. And that is not my desire, not anymore.”

Her voice dropped, softer. “My desire is here, with you. Though admitting that feels… like betrayal. Against my blood, against everything I thought I wanted.”
Enid leaned in, forehead against hers, tears pricking her eyes. “It’s not betrayal, Wens, it’s choosing what’s best for you. And if you think that best is me… I’m so happy, and I’ll be there everyday, to love you and make your days special.”
For the first time since Grandma’s speech, Wednesday let her head tip, resting against Enid’s shoulder. “You are intolerably sentimental.”
“But you love it,” Enid whispered, kissing the top of her head.
Wednesday’s lips twitched faintly. “I do.”

Enid tilted Wednesday’s chin up with a finger. “You know what I think?”
Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “No, but I’m certain you’ll enlighten me regardless.”
“I think,” Enid said, grinning, “you’re the bravest, most stubborn, most ridiculously brilliant wife anyone could ask for. And I think Grandmama is gonna be proud no matter what, because you’re you.”
Wednesday’s gaze softened even more. “You make revolting optimism sound almost tolerable.”
Enid laughed and nudged her shoulder against Wednesday’s. “Admit you need it.”
“I tolerate it.” Wednesday corrected, but her fingers slipped higher, curling around Enid’s wrist, thumb brushing lightly over her pulse.

The warmth there made Enid’s chest flutter. She leaned in closer, whispering, “You know, for someone who acts like they hate physical touch, you’re really clingy when you’re stressed.”
Wednesday didn’t even bother to deny it. “Stop making fun of me.”
Enid giggled and rested her head against Wednesday’s, their noses brushing.
There was a long silence then, but it wasn’t heavy anymore: it was warm. Wednesday’s hand settled against Enid’s cheek, cool and careful, like she was memorizing her.
“I love you,” Wednesday murmured; quiet, almost reluctant, but raw.

Enid’s whole face lit up: Wednesday had never said that first. She kissed her without hesitation, slow and sweet, then pulled back just enough to whisper, “I love you too. So, so, so, so much.”
Wednesday’s lips curved into the faintest, secretive smile, one meant only for her. “Repulsive.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Enid said, beaming as she kissed her again. “You wouldn’t survive without it.”

Wednesday’s thumb traced absent circles against Enid’s cheek. Her voice, low and deliberate, cut through the quiet.
“By the way… I saw you weren’t entirely fine either. Do you want to talk about it?”
Enid blinked, caught off guard. “Huh?”
“Your smile faltered when Grandmama spoke,” Wednesday said simply. “You mask well for others. Not for me.”
Enid exhaled, cheeks warming. “Busted.” She chewed her lip for a second before blurting, “Yeah, okay, I did freak out a little. Like, for a solid twenty seconds, I was spiraling. You never mentioned that whole family business thing, so my brain instantly went, ‘oh my god, she’s gonna leave me, she’s been planning it all along, how do I survive this, she’s gonna find a new wife and she’s gonna forget about me’…”
Wednesday tilted her head, her expression unreadable but intent.

“And then-“ Enid rushed on, “literally twenty seconds later I was already like, ‘okay, whatever, I’ll just follow her. I’ll pack up my rainbow sweaters and move wherever she goes. No big deal’. Like, my panic just… flipped.”
For the first time since they’d left the poker table, Wednesday let herself laugh softly. “So, you were prepared to throw away your entire life, aspirations, and dreams… after less than half a minute of thought?”
Enid’s face went red. “I was just- I don’t know… ready. For you.”
Wednesday’s hand cupped her cheek, steady, grounding. Her voice softened, stripped of irony. “Enid… the fact that your mind defaulted to following me without hesitation is both touching and utterly horrifying. But the thought you had about me leaving you and forgetting about you… how could that be possible? The thought that I would ever leave you, let alone replace you, is laughable. I do not let people close, I do not let them in. And yet, somehow, you occupy every corner of me. No one else could ever touch me the way you do, no one else could ever see me the way you see me. I could never look at another person the way I look at you, because my eyes are already claimed.”

Her hand slid down Enid’s arm, fingers curling into hers, anchoring the words. “You are singular. Eternal. Irreplaceable. The very idea of another wife, another life, is not even conceivable. It’s you.”
Enid’s lips parted, her whole body trembling with the weight of it, her eyes swimming with emotion. For a second she couldn’t speak, but could only stare at her wife with a choked sound. Finally, she managed a whisper, her voice breaking into a watery laugh:
“…You’re gonna make me cry, Weds. Like, ugly cry.”
Wednesday’s expression softened by a fraction, thumb brushing along Enid’s knuckles. “Then do, I’ll find it endearing, because you’re never ugly.”
Enid let out a hiccuping laugh, tears finally spilling as she leaned forward and kissed her, slow and desperate, like she was clinging to the words themselves.

Their mouths met several times, heated and desperate, until Enid had to pull back just for air. She was flushed, smiling, her forehead pressed to Wednesday’s.
But Wednesday’s eyes glittered with a dangerous kind of mischief. “So,” she murmured, “this phantom woman you imagined stealing me away… I wonder, was she tall? Blonde? Tragic?”
Enid let out a scandalized squeak. “Oh my god, Weds, stop! Don’t make it sound real.”
Wednesday smirked, lips brushing hers like she wasn’t done tormenting her. “What? I’d like to know about the imaginary competition you had vanishing in twenty second.”
Enid shoved her shoulder lightly, giggling, before crashing back into another kiss. “There is no competition, dummy. You’re mine.”

Wednesday let out the faintest hum, smug and dark, tugging her closer by the waist. “Yours,” she repeated slowly, savoring it. Then, with a deliberate smirk against her mouth: “I must admit, you make jealousy sound… intoxicating.”
Enid gasped into the kiss, pulling back just an inch. “You actually like it when I get jealous?”
Wednesday’s smirk widened. She hooked her finger under Enid’s chin and tipped her face up, slow like a promise. “Yes.” Then, softer, almost private: “I like it most when it’s ridiculous. Jealousy that paints you red and then melts into kisses is my favorite kind.”
Enid’s laugh turned into a squeak and she pushed her shoulder into Wednesday’s. “Stop weaponizing kisses.”
Wednesday’s smile was tiny and satisfied. “I weaponize what works.”

Enid buried her burning face into Wednesday’s shoulder with a muffled groan. “Ugh, I can’t believe you actually like it. That’s… so embarrassing.”
Wednesday tilted her head, lips brushing against Enid’s temple. “On the contrary, it’s riveting. Your eyes sharpen, your voice climbs an octave, and you cling harder when you think someone might dare to covet me.” She paused, smirking. “It’s delightful.”
Enid pulled back, still blushing, and smacked her lightly on the chest. “Delightful? Weds, it makes me look ridiculous.”
“Mm,” Wednesday countered, inching closer until Enid had nowhere to look but into her eyes. “You become feral. It’s… revealing. And it makes you look like someone who knows exactly what she wants. And that’s me, so I see no flaw in your behavior.”

Enid chewed her lip, trying to hide her smile, then gave up and laughed softly. “You’re the worst. You actually want me to be a jealous mess, don’t you?”
Wednesday’s hand slid down her arm, fingers tracing her wrist until she laced their hands together. “Every display of jealousy is another reminder that I’m yours, and you know it. But,” she leaned in, whispering against Enid’s lips, “I’ll admit, my favorite part is what comes after. When you need me to prove it. Thoroughly.”
Enid’s breath caught, her brain practically short-circuiting. “Oh my god, Wednesday, stop-“
Before she could finish, Wednesday kissed her, deep and unhurried, and Enid melted instantly, clutching her tighter, heart hammering. When they finally broke apart, Enid was dizzy, gasping out a laugh.
“…Okay, fine. Maybe my jealousy isn’t that bad if that’s what I get afterward.”

“See? Continue being crazy for me, then.” Wednesday said, with a smirk.
Enid giggled, smacking her shoulder lightly. “You’re the worst.”
“And yet, you’re already planning to follow me into any abyss.”
Enid beamed, squeezing her hand. “Damn right I am. Not interested in imagining you with other wives again.”
“I can’t shake off my head the fact that you literally invented an entirely fictional potential wife of mine in your head and got jealous of her. Tell me again, what does she look like?”
Enid buried her face in her hands. “Nooo, we’re not talking about this.”
“We are,” Wednesday countered, gently prying her hands away. “Describe my phantom bride. Humor me.”

Enid sighed, cheeks red. “…Fine. For the thirteen seconds she existed in my head she was, like, a tragic poet type. Tall, pale, with dark, precise and thick eyeliner, probably smoking clove cigarettes and writing about how life is pain. Basically the kind of person you’d write love letters with blood ink for.”
Wednesday’s eyes glimmered with amusement. “Adorable.” She tilted her head, studying Enid. “That woman doesn’t exist, Enid. And if she did? I wouldn’t give her a single look.” She leaned closer, whispering so close her lips brushed Enid’s jaw. “I don’t even look at real people the way I look at you. Do you think a ghost in kohl eyeliner stands a chance?”
Enid shivered so hard she nearly laughed. “You’re enjoying this.”
Wednesday pressed one more deliberate kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Of course, your irrational jealousy is evidence that you’re as obsessed with me as I am with you.”

Enid blinked at her, flustered and delighted. “Did you just admit you’re obsessed?”
Wednesday’s smirk curved sharp. “Frighteningly so. Would you like me to prove it again, or are you still busy comparing yourself to your imaginary competition?”
Enid tried to glare at her, but it was impossible with Wednesday’s mouth already brushing hers again. The kiss deepened, slow at first, then hungrier, Enid tugging at her braid to pull her closer.

When the kiss broke, Enid spoke again, her voice a little wobbly but warm. “Seriously though… you don’t know how much it means that you’d even notice my face when all that was going on. Like, you were dealing with family legacy pressure and still…” She trailed off, her smile tugging shyly. “You caught me panicking.”
Wednesday’s gaze softened just for her. “Of course I did. Your expression is even louder than your voice, I would have to be willfully blind not to notice when something shakes you. Plus, I’ve known you for so much time, Enid, I’m pretty sure you’re the person I know better.”
Enid gave a tiny laugh, but her chest felt too full. “It did shake me. For a second there, I thought… I don’t know, the worst.” She pressed her lips together, then let the words tumble out.

Wednesday tilted her head, studying her with that terrifying intensity that always made Enid’s knees weak. “But in less than a minute you went from despair to blind loyalty.”
Enid let out a sheepish laugh. “Basically, yeah. I’m hopeless.”
“Hopelessly mine.”
Enid froze, then let out a squeaky giggle that dissolved into a happy sigh as she melted into Wednesday’s chest. “Okay, that was so unfairly hot.”
“Yeah?” Wednesday asked. “You look exquisite when you’re overwhelmed with emotion.”
Enid groaned. “You’re literally impossible. And your family is still waiting for us.”
—————-
When they came back into the living room, still flushed from their stolen moment, chaos was already in progress.
Fester was on the carpet, cackling like a maniac, while Pancake lay sprawled on her back, legs stiff in the air, tongue hanging out like she’d just dropped dead.
“Ladies and gents!” Fester announced with a grand sweep of his hands. “Observe my greatest trick yet: Dead Pancake!”
The cousins laughed, clapping and whistling like it was the best thing they’d seen all night.
But Enid froze, her breath caught in her throat, and her eyes went wide in horror. “Pancake?!” She scrambled forward on her knees, scooping the pup into her arms. “No, no, no, baby, please… open your eyes, come on, don’t do this to me” Her voice cracked, and tears pricked at her eyes as she cradled Pancake against her chest, heart pounding.

Pancake wiggled happily in her arms, licking her chin, very much alive and thriving.
The laughter around the room doubled.
“See? Works like a charm!” Fester crowed. “I’m a genius!”
“FESTER.” Wednesday’s voice cut through the noise. She moved so fast that suddenly she was right behind Enid, her hand on her shoulder, grounding her. Her eyes, however, were locked onto her uncle with lethal precision. “You will never do that again.”
Fester blinked, taken aback. “What? It’s funny! Classic gag! She collapses, everyone laughs and-“
“DO I LOOK AMUSED?” Wednesday snapped, her voice rising sharp and cold, cutting straight through the laughter. The room went quiet, the cousins staring, wide-eyed; seeing Wednesday showing emotion, yelling, was so new they had to double check if that was really her.

Enid hiccuped softly, pressing her face into Pancake’s fur. Wednesday immediately turned, crouching down in front of her, her scowl melting into something rare, something raw.
“Breathe, don’t worry,” she murmured, brushing her thumb gently under Enid’s damp lashes. “She’s fine, she’s safe, we’re here with her.”
Enid laughed weakly through the tears, still trembling. “I know, I know, it’s just- when saw her like that, my brain… my heart just- ugh, I thought she…” Her voice cracked again, and she buried her face into Pancake, clutching the pup like she might disappear.
Wednesday shot another glare over her shoulder, voice icy as she raised it again. “You all find this amusing? My wife in tears? She’s sensitive!”
The cousins, caught red-handed, exchanged awkward glances, and nobody laughed this time.
Wednesday’s tone dropped, quieter but sharper. “Mock me as much as you want. But not her. Never her. She’s untouchable, remember that.”

Silence. Even Fester looked guilty now, mumbling, “Didn’t realize she’d take it that hard…”
Enid sniffled, lifting her head. “It’s not your fault, Uncle Fester, I’m just… I’m stupidly anxious and stupidly attached, she’s my baby.”
“You’re not stupid,” Wednesday said firmly, tilting Enid’s chin up with gentle fingers. Her dark eyes softened in a way only Enid ever saw.
Enid melted, kissing Pancake’s head and then leaning into Wednesday, her blush blooming through the last of her tears.

Damian, usually smug, kept quiet, Persephone twirled her ring, watching with something like respect, Cassandra leaned back and whispered to Octavia, “She’s scary in a whole new way when it’s about Enid.”
Grandmama cackled low. “Protective like a viper, that one.”

The cousins where still huddled together on the couch like a pack of cornered hyenas, whispering among themselves before Icarus finally blurted out something trying to regain Wednesday’s respect (and, more importantly, trying not to get killed by her):
“You know, Enid, your hair is… really shiny. Like, ridiculously shiny. Beautiful, really!”
Enid blinked, confused but flattered. “Oh, thanks?”
Octavia jumped in, elbowing him. “Not just the hair! Your nails are like wow. Beautiful colors!”
“Thank you!” Enid said, cheeks pinking.
“Nails, of course,” muttered Cassandra, nodding quickly. “But, uh, also, your outfit’s really cute. You’ve got this whole colorful Instagram aesthetic. Also, it looks amazing on you, it fits perfectly and… it compliments you.”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed.
The cousins, desperate to prove their innocence, kept piling on.

“And your smile! Seriously, it could power a small city. If Wednesday wasn’t already with you-“
The air went cold.
Every cousin froze mid-breath. Wednesday, perched in her chair like a raven about to strike, slowly raised her gaze from the typewriter on her lap. Her tone was calm, but laced with a razor edge:
“Finish that sentence, Damian, and you’ll be volunteering your spine for my next anatomy display.”
He gulped. “-which would be… totally irrelevant! Because she is with you. Obviously. Always has been, always will be. Yay, marriage!”
Enid bit her lip to hide a smile, half-delighted, half-embarrassed. “Guys…”

Wednesday’s hand curled around the armrest. “Apologies, Enid. I find I have little patience for sycophants who don’t understand boundaries.”
The cousins exchanged wide-eyed glances. Octavia whispered, barely audible, “She’s even scarier when she’s jealous…”
Wednesday’s gaze snapped to her. “Correct.”

The cousins were still pale and trembling, whispering apologies like prayers, when Persephone leaned back against the arm of the couch, a sly smile tugging at her lips. Unlike the others, she wasn’t cowed by Wednesday’s glare; if anything, she looked entertained, and wanted to push her favourite cousin even more, to see how feral she could get.
“You know…” she began, drawing the words out. “They’re not wrong, and I don’t see why stopping them, Enid really is gorgeous. That smile? Kinda unfair to the entire human race, so distracting.”
The room went still.
Enid flushed hot pink. “Oh my god-“
Wednesday’s head snapped up, her stare sharp enough to cut glass. “Choose your next words wisely.”

But Persephone only grinned wider, clearly enjoying herself. “What? I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. And it’s not just the smile. Her eyes? Totally the kind that make you forget what you were saying. And her-“
“Persephone.” Wednesday’s voice was silk over steel, calm but heavy with warning.
Enid squeaked, torn between embarrassment and laughter. “Okay, okay, let’s not list my entire… face right now?”
Persephone leaned forward, chin in her hand like she was studying a painting. “I mean, if you don’t want me to talk about her eyes, you’re literally begging me to talk about the waist. Like, have you ever noticed how perfect it is? Makes you wonder how it is to put your han-“
She didn’t get to finish.

“If you dare finish this sentence, cousin, I’ll snap your fingers one by one until you can’t even think about putting your hands anywhere.” Wednesday said, her voice flat and lethal.
Everyone in the room froze, and Persephone’s smirk faltered, but before anyone could speak, Wednesday stepped forward. Her arms slid around Enid’s waist in a slow, deliberate motion, pulling her flush against her body.
Enid let out a startled gasp, her face blazing red, but Wednesday’s grip only tightened, while her black eyes locked on Persephone like she was daring her to breathe wrong.
“Her waist isn’t for you to discuss, let alone imagine. It’s mine to hold, to touch, to know, to fit my hands around perfectly.“

Enid whimpered and tried to hide her face against Wednesday’s shoulder, but Wednesday didn’t budge: her hand flexed against Enid’s back like she was proving a point.
The cousins looked horrified, shifting in their seats as though afraid to move. Persephone, for once, stayed silent.
Enid finally lifted her head, cheeks scarlet, and pressed a hand over Wednesday’s arm.
“Weds, stop,” she whispered, her voice soft but steady. “She’s just messing around with us, she’s kidding.”
Persephone lifted her hands a little, like she was surrendering.
“Okay, yeah, relax. I was just joking, I just wanted to see your reaction, that’s all.”

Wednesday didn’t look convinced: her arms stayed locked around Enid’s waist, fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt as though if she let go, Persephone might snatch her away. Her eyes were flat and dark.
“People don’t describe someone’s body like that unless they’ve been paying attention,” she said. “Why were you looking at her?”
Persephone blinked. “What? I wasn’t- I mean, it was just a comment”
“You weren’t supposed to notice her waist in the first place,” Wednesday cut in, her voice tight and unfamiliarly unsteady. “Do you want her?”
The cousins exchanged horrified glances. Enid gasped softly, twisting in her hold. “Wednesday! Of course she doesn’t.” she whispered, her face hot, but Wednesday’s grip only tightened.

“Tell me,” Wednesday demanded, her gaze drilling into Persephone. “Was that a joke, or should I ban you from any next family gathering because you want to take my wife?”
Persephone’s mouth fell open. “What? No! I swear- God, no. I was just teasing! I don’t want your wife, okay?!” She held her hands up higher, voice cracking.
Wednesday’s expression barely shifted, suspicion still sharp in her eyes.
“You better not.” she whispered.
Enid softened against her, cheeks red, voice quiet and soothing. “Babe, really, it’s fine. She wasn’t trying to steal me. She was just kidding, okay?”
Wednesday nodded imperceptibly, her eyes softening a little bit, but she didn’t let go.

“You were trying to joke, huh?” Her tone was low and measured. “Then listen carefully. Compliments, I can endure. Her smile, her eyes... I understand, she’s perfect. Shallow observations, nothing more. But the moment you speak about touching her, you’ve crossed into indecency.”
Persephone shifted uncomfortably, mouth opening to defend herself, but Wednesday cut her off with a tilt of her head.
The cousins stared in stunned silence. Persephone had gone pale, her earlier grin gone. “Okay. Okay, I get it,” she managed, her voice weak. “I went too far, I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I know.”
—————-
The cousins still looked pale and rattled as Enid finally spoke. “Okay, sorry for… whatever that was. You all relax now, okay? Wednesday and I are gonna serve dinner. It’ll be ready in a minute!”
That being said, she guided her wife toward the kitchen. Wednesday didn’t protest; she could tell Enid needed to talk to her as much as the food needed plating.
Once they were alone, Enid leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, her cheeks still pink. “Weds,” she said gently, “you didn’t have to go that hard on her.”
Wednesday froze mid-motion with the serving knife, her jaw tightening. “She…” Her voice caught, uncharacteristically uncertain, before she steadied it. “She literally said she wanted to put her hands on your waist. I found that utterly disrespectful.”

Enid sighed, though her lips curved faintly. “She was just teasing. She’s your cousin, Weds, she loves you; she’d never say something like that meaning it.”
“That isn’t teasing,” Wednesday snapped, sharper than intended. She set the knife down and turned fully toward her, dark eyes fixed on Enid’s face. “That was her imagining touching you.”
Enid’s blush deepened, but she shook her head. “You still kinda terrified everyone. And… you terrified me a little too.”
That made Wednesday falter: she blinked, her shoulders stiffening, then dropped her gaze. “…I’m sorry,” she said at last, the words heavy and quiet. “For suddenly going so crazily protective. I don’t-“ She stopped, her throat tightening. “I lost control. I just wanted to defend you…”

Enid’s expression softened immediately. She stepped away from the counter and into Wednesday’s space, slipping her arms around her waist. “You didn’t scare me in a bad way,” she murmured, resting her chin on Wednesday’s shoulder. “You just… shocked me, but also kinda made me feel like the luckiest girl alive.”
Wednesday’s arms came up slowly, hesitantly, to wrap around her. “That wasn’t my intent, I only wanted to make it clear you are untouchable.”
Enid’s laugh was muffled against her shoulder. “Mission accomplished. Pretty sure no one’s ever going to risk joking about me again.”
Wednesday exhaled, the tension in her shoulders finally easing. “Good.”

“You know…” Enid tilted her head back to catch her eyes, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “The whole finger-snapping, ‘mine to touch’ speech? You made it sound like you were ready to fight the entire family over me.”
Wednesday’s brow knit. “Yeah, I was.”
Enid giggled, cheeks glowing. “I know, and… not gonna lie? It was really hot.”
Wednesday froze, her mouth parting just slightly. “Hot.”
“Mmhm.” Enid’s grin widened, playful now. “Like… ridiculously so. I mean, seeing you so intense and possessive... I was just standing there thinking, ‘wow, my wife wants to snap fingers because of me’. I don’t know how I’m surviving today, it kinda seems like you’re being extra hot on purpose.”

A deep flush crept across Wednesday’s cheeks, something rare and unguarded. “That’s not- I didn’t mean to-“
Enid leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper at her ear. “Still worked.”
Wednesday swallowed hard, her eyes darting away as if she couldn’t stand being caught like this. “You’re so… I don’t even know. I felt so horrible for scaring you, and then you tell me you actually found it… hot. You’re impossible.”
“And you’re blushing,” Enid sing-songed, brushing her nose against Wednesday’s cheek before stealing a quick kiss. “Now, this is what’s going to happen: we bring these plates to your cousins, we eat, and you don’t try to kill Persephone. Was it clear?” She asked, and Wednesday could only nod.

Suddenly, Grandmama and some cousins appeared in the kitchen; the woman clapped her hands. “Alright, I’m sorry, but dinner can wait.” She raised an eyebrow at Wednesday.
“What?! We were just coming here to ask how much we had to wait! I’m starving!” Damian said dramatically.
“You were very quiet when I announced the family business plan earlier. Any reason?” Grandmama asked, ignoring the poor boy.
Wednesday’s hand hovered over a plate. “I’d prefer to discuss that matter in private.”
Grandmama’s expression softened, a knowing glint in her eye. “Very well, then. Let’s move to another room.”

Wednesday paused, glancing at Enid. “But I need my wife to come.”
“Oh, of course,” Grandmama rolled her eyes. “I would expect nothing less.“
Enid’s heart raced as she followed her wife, who was sliding her hand into hers; Wednesday’s grip was steady, almost possessive, and Enid couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her spine.
She knew how much her wife needed her there, for that difficult conversation, and she was ready to be as supportive as she could.
And the thought of being so important in her life, so much that Wednesday actually needed physical connection with her, made her realize how much she loved her, once again.

The door shut with a heavy click, sealing Wednesday, Enid, and Grandmama in a quiet room.
Grandmama leaned over, eyes sharp. “So, Wednesday? Have you lost your voice?”
Wednesday’s jaw tightened, and hand instinctively reached for Enid’s again. She squeezed once, grounding herself, then leveled her gaze at her grandmother. “I did not lose anything. I am reconsidering.”
“Reconsidering?” Grandmama’s voice cut like a knife, accusing. “All your life you wanted this. You and your cousin begged me to teach you, you shadowed me like a crow. And now, when it is finally within your grasp, you hesitate?”
Enid’s heart twisted at the accusation: she could feel Wednesday’s grip tightening, and without hesitation, she brushed her thumb over the back of Wednesday’s hand, steady and warm.

Wednesday exhaled slowly, her expression as unreadable as ever, but her shoulders betraying tension. “I wanted it. I believed it was the only future worthy of me. But things change.”
Grandmama’s eyes narrowed. “What could possibly rival the family legacy? What could make you stray from what you were meant for?”
The silence that followed was thick. Wednesday’s grip on Enid’s hand pulsed, then she shifted closer, her free hand slipping to rest against Enid’s thigh, needing more contact to hold her composure.
“My life is not less because it does not mirror yours,” Wednesday said finally, her voice quiet but steel-edged. “I have my writing, my studies, my wife.” Her fingers pressed into Enid’s hand, as if punctuating the word.

Grandmama’s expression hardened. “So love really has made you soft.”
Wednesday’s eyes flashed. “No. Love has made me precise. My wife has not distracted me… she has sharpened me. She has given me reason to want more than shadows and legacies and mortuary businesses, she has given me light. She has given me something the business never could… the desire to stay.”
Enid’s throat burned at the words, and she tried not to gasp out loud. She squeezed back, sliding closer until her shoulder pressed to Wednesday’s.
Grandmama leaned back. “You would truly abandon all I built, all you dreamed of… for her? No offence, Enid.”

Wednesday’s lips twitched and she turned her head slightly toward Enid, eyes softening for just a moment before they hardened again as she faced her grandmother. “Not for her. With her.”
The air crackled with silence and then, finally, Grandmama exhaled. “You’re stubborn. Just like your mother. Very well. But if you walk away from this now, Wednesday, there is no crawling back. I’m not giving you another opportunity.”
Wednesday’s grip on Enid never faltered. “You already have my answer.”
Grandmama’s eyes flicked to Enid, then back to Wednesday, studying them both. For a long moment, it felt like a verdict was being weighed in silence. At last, she nodded. “Okay, then.”
The conversation ended, Grandmama went back to the living room, but Wednesday didn’t let go of Enid’s hand. If anything, she tugged her closer, guiding her subtly into her lap as if to reclaim her calmness physically, as if her touch could silence the storm inside.

Enid tilted her head slightly, ready to whisper something reassuring, but then, suddenly, Wednesday moved: without warning, she wrapped her arms around Enid’s waist, pulling her in tight.
Enid froze, eyes wide, every nerve ending in her body on high alert. “Are you hugging me? Like… first?”
Wednesday pressed her face briefly into the curve of Enid’s shoulder, her voice muffled but steady. “Do not ruin this moment with commentary.”
Enid blinked, her mouth falling open in disbelief before slowly closing again. She could feel Wednesday’s heart beating faster than usual, her grip firm like she was holding on for dear life.

“You are… stabilizing.”
Enid’s lips curved in a gentle smile. “Like… emotionally?”
Wednesday’s arms tightened around her waist. “In every conceivable sense.”
Enid’s chest warmed and she shifted slightly, curling closer until she was practically wrapped around Wednesday, legs tangled.
“Wow,” Enid whispered, her voice muffled against Wednesday’s shoulder. “You’re, like… really good at this. Cuddling. For someone who swore she’d rather sit in a coffin full of venomous snakes.”
Wednesday made a faint, unimpressed sound - half huff, half sigh - but didn’t let go.
“That was in eleventh grade. I did not know I would end up marrying my professional clinger touch addict koala whose embrace comforts me this much best friend at the time.”

Enid went still for a beat, her brain catching up to the words. Then her head popped up, eyes wide, cheeks pink, and lips stretching into the brightest smile.
“Hold on, did my goth doom-and-gloom wife just call me a koala… and then admit my hugs actually comfort her?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Enid squealed and immediately hugged her tighter, practically vibrating. “Oh my god, you did. You love cuddling me.”
“…Ridiculous,” Wednesday muttered, but her tone was softer than Enid had ever heard. “I had no idea this could be… necessary.”
Enid smiled against her. “Guess you’re stuck with me as your emotional support cuddle monster-slash-koala now.”
—————-
They’d barely managed to compose themselves before rejoining the others in the dining room, arms brushing more than necessary as they carried plates and bowls to the table. Enid still had that faint pink glow on her cheeks, and Wednesday, though her face was unreadable, couldn’t stop letting her fingers graze against Enid’s hand when she passed her silverware.
They were midway through setting the table when Damian, stationed by the window like some self-appointed guard, frowned.
“Erm…” He tilted his head, his hand drifting toward the blade at his hip. “There’s a huge… colourful guy outside. Knocking. What do I do with him?”

Enid nearly dropped the stack of napkins.
“Oh my god, no- put the sword down, he’s good!” She rushed forward, nearly tripping over a chair as she darted to the door. “That’s my brother Luca.”
The door swung open, and there he was: bright hoodie, vibrant sneakers, pink gym bag. He blinked at the people inside, then at Enid’s wide-eyed panic-hug.
“Hey! You didn’t answer my texts. I remembered you had tomato sauce so-” He paused mid-sentence, eyes darting past her shoulder, and his voice dropped. “Who are all these people dressed like a Tim Burton convention?”
Enid winced. “Luca, these are… uh, my in-laws. Wednesday’s grandma, uncle and cousins.”
There was a beat of silence in which Luca blinked and the clan blinked back at him.

Fester, ever the icebreaker, leaned forward with a wide grin. “So the secret rainbow wife also has a rainbow brother. He’s a bit weird, but I like him already.”
Grandmama gave him a long, studying look. “He glows. Suspicious.”
Cassandra tilted her head, eyes narrowing with clinical curiosity. “He seems… loud. In color, in energy, in aura.”
Luca glanced down at his hoodie like he was being personally attacked. “Sorry I didn’t show up in grayscale? What is this, a goth meeting?”
Damian still had his blade slightly raised. “He’s too cheerful. Can I just… nick him? Just to see if he bleeds bright paint?”

“NO,” Enid shrieked, then turned desperately to Luca. “Sorry, they’re… intense.”
Wednesday finally stepped forward. “Enid, your brother wanted tomato sauce. Give him tomato sauce, so he may leave before this devolves into unnecessary homicide.”
“Wow.” Luca took his time to look at everyone directly, then at Enid. “You weren’t kidding about the ‘married into spooky royalty’ thing, huh?”
Fester slapped Luca on the back, nearly knocking the air out of him. “Welcome to the family, kid! Hope you like chaos and despair!”
Luca stared at him, wide-eyed. “…I just wanted pasta.” He said, then Enid gave him a bottle of tomato sauce and he suddenly ran out of the house.

As everyone found their seats, Persephone slipped gracefully into the chair beside Enid. Her expression was soft, almost conspiratorial, as she leaned closer. “Thank you for loving her,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only Enid could hear. “I worried she’d end up alone in a tower of her own making.”
Enid froze, blinking rapidly as her throat tightened. She forced a wobbly smile, trying to laugh off the sudden sting in her eyes. “Yeah, well… she’s stuck with me now, so, don’t worry.”
Persephone tilted her head, studying her with those calm, dark eyes, and then gave a slow, approving nod. “Good.”

Before Enid could fully recover, Fester’s booming voice shattered the moment. “Pancake! JUMP!”
Enid whipped her head around just in time to see her dog leap, not onto the rug, not toward the floor, but straight onto the coffee table, skidding through a scattering of silverware and nearly knocking over a candle.
The sharp crack of splintering wood cut through the chatter, and the entire coffee table gave way under Pancake’s dramatic landing.
“FESTER!” Wednesday yelped, scrambling up to grab the dog before she singed her tail. “She’s not supposed to be on the furniture!”
Fester only cackled, clapping like a delighted child. “She’s a natural! Pure chaos!”

Enid jumped up immediately. “Oh my god, Pancake!” She scooped the wriggling dog into her arms and then whirled on her wife. “Weds, take these broken pieces away before she cuts herself.”
Wednesday didn’t hesitate, didn’t question, didn’t even blink: she simply rose, collected the shards of wood and shattered glass with unnerving precision, and began stacking them neatly into a pile.
Most of the table carried on eating as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened; until Persephone, calm and thoughtful, murmured almost to herself, “Fascinating… classic alpha–omega dynamic.”

Enid, mid-breath, choked on air. “Excuse me?!”
Persephone glanced up slowly, entirely unfazed by the scandalized look on Enid’s face. “Oh. Sorry. I’m just drafting a werewolf subplot for my new novel. You two are just… textbook material. It’s useful.”
Enid slapped a hand over her face, groaning. “I can’t believe your cousin just fan-ficked us into her novel.”
Without a flicker of shame, Wednesday brushed her hands clean of wood dust and sat back down. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice was smooth. “At least you’d be the alpha.”

The cousins collectively lost it: Damian snorted into his drink, Icarus nearly fell backward in his chair laughing, and Cassandra leaned forward with an actual smirk.
Enid, red as a stop sign, buried her face in Pancake’s fur.
Wednesday’s voice cut through the laughter like a knife. “Fester. If you issue one more command to our dog without permission, I will ensure your bed sheets are laced with itching powder until the day you die.”
The room quieted instantly, though Fester still grinned, scratching the back of his neck. “Fine, fine. No more commands. But you can’t deny it, she’s got spirit. Definitely an Addams!”
—————-
The meal finally wound down after two other hours.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, kid, a new Addams is always a pure joy, and you’re the most joyful person I’ve ever met. Truly unique!” Fester said after the dinner, and Enid just straight up forgave him for everything, tearing up.
“Thank you Uncle Fester!” She said, brightly.
“Thank you for everything, Enid, dinner was amazing!” Icarus said, going to greet her goodbye with a polite quick hug.

“Yeah, thank you, everything was great!” Persephone said, going to hug Enid too.
“Mind where you place your hands,” Wednesday cut in, voice low and calm but sharp enough to slice. “Waist is mine. Stick to shoulders and arms only. Nothing lower.”
Persephone froze mid-motion, blinking at her like she’d been doused in ice water. “Uh- yeah. Totally. Just… shoulder hug. Got it.” She patted Enid’s shoulder once, awkward as a robot, and backed away.
“Thank you Eniddd!” Octavia yelled, running to her and hugging her.
“Wow, never thought your family could have a so high level of affection” Enid said to Wednesday.

Coats were pulled on, and promises of Christmas get-togethers were tossed around.
At the door, Octavia paused, tapping her chin.
“Oh, Paula’s due just before Christmas, right? Which means by the time we all gather… there’ll be a baby at the table.”
Enid’s head whipped toward her wife so fast she almost gave herself whiplash.
“A baby? Wednesday. With. Babies?”

Wednesday blinked once, utterly unimpressed. “Infants are simply smaller humans with worse motor control. I fail to see why that provokes this reaction on you.”
Enid clasped her hands under her chin like she was witnessing the second coming. “Because you, holding a baby… oh my god, I’m gonna melt into a puddle.”
“Don’t,” Wednesday said flatly. “That would make an appalling mess on the floor.”
Enid only grinned wider, leaning against her dramatically. “You’d look so soft, though. Scary goth wife cradling a squishy little baby… stop, I can’t breathe, it’s too cute.”

Persephone smirked over her scarf. “I’m writing this down. Goth omega Mother archetype. Perfect.”
Grandmama, of course, just muttered something under her breath and shuffled toward the car.
Meanwhile, Enid had gone full-on dreamy sigh mode, gazing up at Wednesday like she’d already seen the vision.
“I’m telling you, Christmas is gonna kill me. You plus baby equals my new Roman Empire.”
Wednesday arched a brow. “If you perish from excessive sentimentality, I’ll be most displeased.”
Enid giggled, tugging her closer. “Guess you’ll just have to keep me alive until then.”
“And how, exactly?”
“You started out pretty well. You’re so doing it on purpose to look hot now!”
“Oh, with Persephone? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, sure,” Enid said, wrapping her arms around Wednesday’s neck. “You totally didn’t just turn into… Madam Territorial- no wait, Mrs. Waist-Police. No, General Hands-Off. No-“
“Okay, you can stop now. I understood the concept.”
“Well, isn’t the concept right tho? Are you jealous, trying to look hot to me or auditioning to be my bodyguard?”
“I’m none of those things,” Wednesday said, her thumbs tracing deliberate circles along Enid’s sides. “I’m reminding everyone that what’s mine stays mine.”
Enid’s breath hitched, her grin wobbling. “See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Scary hot villain bodyguard energy. I should be running, but I kinda wanna…”

Wednesday’s fingers dug lightly into her waist. “Wanna what?”
Enid’s laugh cracked into a squeak. Then, she grabbed her wife’s face and started kissing her.
“Correct choice.” Wednesday bent, brushing her mouth over Enid’s neck, unhurried and deliberate.
“God, you’re intense.” Enid said, her cheeks practically on fire.
Wednesday’s lips ghosted a smirk. “You like me intense.”
Enid giggled. “Okay, true. My own terrifyingly hot wife-slash-bodyguard. Can’t argue with that.”
“Good. But remember,” Wednesday murmured against her lips, “bodyguards can be replaced, I can’t.”
Enid shivered, her smile stretching wide as she pulled her closer. “Yeah, no one else could ever pull this off. You’re one of a kind.”
“That sounded like an insult for some reason”
———————
When Enid came back from the shower thirty minutes later, hair damp and fluffy around her shoulders, the smell of freshly popped corn hit her before she even rounded the corner.
On the couch sat a bowl of popcorn, still steaming; Wednesday was perched neatly near it, dark eyes already tracking Enid’s every move.
“You can choose whatever movie you like,” Wednesday said calmly, though her voice carried that soft undertone Enid had come to recognize. “I won’t complain about your… stupid romcoms.”
Enid blinked. “Wait, what? Are you feeling okay?”
Wednesday ignored her little grin, and continued without flinching.

“Thank you, Enid. For seeing me, for helping me, for forgiving me for not giving you enough attention this past week.” Her gaze flicked downward for the briefest second, then returned, sharper but softer. “These days I realized how important your presence is to me. Your touch, your voice, your words… everything about you. Even more than before.”
Enid’s heart was already doing Olympic-level flips, but Wednesday wasn’t finished.
“I thought silence, solitude and… just, I don’t know, isolation, were my sanctuary; but the past few days, life with less you was unbearable. And now… I’ve learned I don’t want to go back to the version of myself who believed she was destined to be alone. I want this. You. A ridiculous movie night with buttery snacks and your hand finding mine in the dark.”

Enid clutched the blanket against her chest, eyes glossy. “Weds…”
Wednesday tilted her head slightly, dead serious. “So, if what you need and want now is to torture me with a… I don’t know, Julia Roberts film, I suppose I will endure it. For you.”
That broke Enid: she launched herself onto the couch beside her, burying her face into Wednesday’s shoulder with a laugh that was half-sob.
“God, you’re such a weirdo. My weirdo.”
“Indeed,” Wednesday replied, allowing herself the faintest smirk as she shifted the popcorn into Enid’s lap and pulled the blanket over both of them.

Enid curled into her side, still clutching the blanket, but her voice was quieter now, almost trembling.
“Weds… can I be honest?”
“Always.” Wednesday replied instantly, dark gaze fixed on her.
Enid bit her lip. “I know you didn’t mean to, but… the fact that you spent the whole week buried in your studies and barely looked at me, it hurt. Like… a lot. I love you so much that when you don’t give me attention, it’s like-“ She huffed out a watery laugh, embarrassed. “It’s like I’m suffocating. Dramatic, I know. But it feels like I’m dying without you noticing me.”
The words cut through Wednesday sharper than any blade could. She reached out, tucking a damp strand of Enid’s hair behind her ear with unexpected gentleness.
“Enid.” Her voice was low, raw. “I am… so sorry. Again, truly. My studies, my obsessions, even my family… they are nothing compared to you. I should never have let you feel unseen.”

Enid sniffled, her nose scrunching. “I know you didn’t mean it. Still sucked tho.”
Wednesday took her hand. “Then hear this: I will never ignore you for my work again. Not for studies, not for writing, not for anything. You are not a distraction from my life. You are my life.”
Enid gasped softly, tears blurring her vision. “Wednesday…”
“Even if every book in existence burned to ash tomorrow, I’d be content, as long as I have you beside me. Do you understand?”
Enid’s heart was gone: completely, irreversibly melted. She surged forward, hugging her wife like her life depended on it.
“I’m so truly sorry, Enid… I am still trying with this whole romance, marriage thing. But, trying it with you… it’s the greatest honor of my life, and I promise you that, more than ever, from now on I’ll try very hard to make you feel loved, always. Like you do for me.”

Enid pulled back just enough to blink at her, wide-eyed.
“Wait, hold on. Did you just say… I’m your life?”
Wednesday tilted her head, expression unreadable except for the faintest twitch of her lips. “Yes, like four minutes ago. Did your brain get stuck there?“
Enid made a helpless noise, half a laugh, half a sob. “You don’t say things like that, Wednesday!“
“I just did.” Wednesday replied coolly, but her thumb brushed against Enid’s cheek in a way that betrayed how much she cared. “Do try to keep up, wife.”
Enid buried her face against her shoulder for a second, squeaking. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this is my life. My super scary, fencing-duel-winning goth wife just said I’m her life. This is better than every romcom ending combined.”
She said, before pulling Wednesday back into another kiss. It started sweet, but quickly grew deeper, Enid tugging her closer on the couch until she was practically sprawled across Wednesday’s lap.

When Wednesday’s hand slid firmly to the small of her back, grounding and possessive all at once, Enid broke the kiss to breathe out:
“Okay, okay, if we keep this up, we’ll never make it to movie night.”
Wednesday arched a brow, already smug. “And that would be… a tragedy?”
Enid jabbed a finger at her chest, trying to keep her voice steady. “Yes, because I love movie night. And you promised me romcoms, so don’t think you’re getting out of this, Mrs. Addams-Sinclair.”
“You’re right, I don’t make promises I won’t keep,” Wednesday said simply, reaching for the popcorn bowl but failing to get it.
The bowl wobbled and a handful of popcorn scattered across the cushions.
Enid gasped. “The popcorn!”
Wednesday, deadpan: “Collateral damage.”

Enid shoved her shoulder, laughing. “We’re a mess.” But she scooped up a piece and popped it into Wednesday’s mouth before she could protest.
Wednesday chewed with exaggerated calm, then leaned in until their noses brushed. “Feeding me… devotion made tangible. I like it.”
Enid squeaked, hiding her face against Wednesday’s neck. “You’re so- ugh! Stop being cute when you’re supposed to be scary!”
“I assure you,” Wednesday murmured, her hand sliding into Enid’s hair, “I can be both.”
Enid melted, clutching her tighter. “Oh my god, I can’t even focus on picking a movie like this.”

Wednesday reached for the remote without breaking eye contact. “Then I’ll pick one. And I’ll endure every insipid love confession on screen, because it makes you happy. Even if, unlike those pitiful characters, I have no need to pretend, because I already have the only romance worth living.”
Enid’s jaw dropped. “Weds, seriously, you’re killing me with straight up romcom lines. Did you practice these?”
Wednesday smirked, brushing a piece of popcorn crumb from Enid’s lip. “I simply watch you, and the words arrive.”

Enid squealed, threw her arms around her, and they both fell sideways on the couch. “Okay, but there’s no way I’m letting you choose a romcom.” She said, and finally took the remote to scroll through the endless streaming menu until she found something pink-saturated and glittery. “This one!” she announced, victorious.
Wednesday raised a brow. “A title like ‘Love’s Perfect Accident’ is an insult to the written word.”
“Uh-huh,” Enid said, unfazed, clicking play. “No complaining, remember?”
“I promised no verbal complaints,” Wednesday corrected smoothly, settling behind her on the couch and tugging Enid firmly against her chest. Her arms coiled around Enid’s waist, grip tight but comforting, like she had no intention of letting her move an inch.

Enid gasped, twisting to look at her. “Weds, you’re… cuddling me from behind.”
“Strategic positioning,” Wednesday replied without blinking. “This way, if the film is intolerable, I can focus on mocking it directly into your ear while restraining you from escaping.”
Enid tried to keep her face straight, but she failed. She leaned back into Wednesday’s arms, sighing dreamily. “Yeah, sounds tragic. Being trapped here with you while you whisper sarcastic things in my ear. Absolute torture.”
“Precisely,” Wednesday murmured, lips brushing the shell of her ear.
The movie opened with two characters bumping into each other while holding lattes. Enid squealed. “Oh my god, classic!”
Wednesday tilted her head, voice dry as bone: “If you ever collide with someone carrying coffee, I expect you to maul them for daring to waste caffeine in your presence. Not… fall in love.”
Enid giggled so hard she almost dropped the popcorn bowl. “Okay, fine, maybe I’d growl a little.”

Then, the onscreen couple launched into a dramatic rain-soaked confession. Enid clutched the pillow, eyes shining. “Awwww, look at that! It’s so sweet.”
Wednesday leaned closer, her tone sharp but teasing: “They look like drowned rats. If you want a dramatic declaration in the rain, I’ll find a cemetery backdrop, proper lighting, and better delivery. And I won’t stammer like an idiot.”
Enid turned scarlet, whipping her head toward her. “Weds! Are you saying you’d - what - give me a dramatic romcom confession?”
“I already had, multiple times,” Wednesday replied calmly. “Unfortunately, you’re usually too busy squealing to realize it.”
“You’re literally the worst. And I love you so much.”
Wednesday’s lips curved faintly, her chin resting on Enid’s shoulder. “Just how it should be.”
——————-
When the movie ended, they went to their bedroom and slid under the covers, Enid instantly curling against Wednesday.
“Weds,” she mumbled into her shoulder, voice thick with sleep but already scheming. “Tomorrow, we’re going to IKEA!”
Wednesday stilled. “…Why?”
“Our coffee table is gone, duh. And buying a new one together, wandering around IKEA, is gonna be soooo romantic. Our first IKEA trip together, babe! Aren’t you excited?”
Wednesday turned her head slightly, studying her with suspicion. “…It just is a warehouse.”

Enid lifted her head, pouting. “It’s not just a warehouse. It’s candles and rugs and meatballs and pretending we need fifty glass jars for no reason. It’s… us being a little married couple wandering around picking things out for our home. Sooo cute!”
“You realize we could order online and have the piece shipped. Enid, I don’t have much time tomorrow, I have to-“
Enid groaned and threw her arm dramatically across Wednesday’s chest. “You don’t get it! The fun part is walking through and imagining what our house is gonna look like in, like, ten years. Pointing at things and going, ‘Oh my god, babe, that’s so us.’”
Wednesday arched a brow.

“Come on,” Enid said, booping her nose. “You and me at IKEA is peak married life. And you’re not stealing this from me with your doom-and-gloom sarcasm.”
Wednesday exhaled, then wrapped her arm around Enid’s waist and pulled her close until their noses almost brushed. “…Fine, but only because your enthusiasm is… infectious.”
Enid’s face lit up like Christmas morning. “So you admit it’ll be cute?”
“I admit,” Wednesday corrected, brushing her lips across Enid’s temple, “that watching you skip through aisles while narrating our hypothetical future will be… tolerable.”
Enid squealed, kicking her legs under the blankets. “You love meeee.”
“Tragically.”
“IKEA date secured tomorrow!”