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#AND it’s a Wednesday can you believe it!!!
jflemings · 2 days
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— let the light in
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pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 2
synopsis: for jessie’s benefit, you end your relationship
warnings: depression, bed rotting, suicidal ideation, self depreciation, isolation, toxic!reader if you squint
a/n: take the warnings seriously and look after yourselves pls <3
as much as you knew you needed jessie, there was no way you were going to allow yourself to hold onto her so tightly. it was a repeated and ongoing cycle that you had been trapped in for years now and it seemed to only be getting worse.
“we can’t be together anymore” you murmur into your half empty cup “i can’t do it”
jessie sits across from you with her mouth agape. “if i’ve done something wrong i can fix it” she says, her voice cracking slightly as she pleads “this can be fixed, let. me. fix. it.”
a heaviness settles behind your eyes as you shake your head “there’s nothing to fix. i’m sorry”
it was as easy as walking out the door and leaving her sitting in her kitchen alone. the bag of your things had weighed your shoulder down as you dragged your feet all the way to your car, not once ever looking back in fear of turning around.
it left you here, laying in bed with the curtains drawn and your phone on do not disturb as you stare blankly at the wall. you had become a shell of the person you think you once were, someone who had hobbies and dreams, someone who wanted to build a life worth living. instead you take sick leave so that you don’t have to get out of bed, you let the dishes pile up in the sink when you do decide to eat and you clear a pathway out of your shit on the floor so you can get to your ensuite bathroom.
the numbness that had overtaken you didn’t allow you to cry, no matter how much you think you wanted too. you were drained. there was nothing left for you to give yourself. it was sick, really, the way your brain could play tricks on you and make you believe you weren’t deserving of the life that you have been given. why would you be? there was absolutely nothing to show for it. all you had was a bed with dirty sheets and a brain that told you death was better than anything else you have ever experienced.
your therapist had told you once that because you hadn’t acted on it, it was merely a way for you to cope without committing. a way to wallow, to escape, from a life that you weren’t ever sure you wanted in the first place. she said that people who have depression but don’t kill themselves will fantasise about it but not pick a date or a means to an end.
only, at one point, you had picked a date. you had closed your eyes and twirled your finger in the air before landing on a wednesday two weeks away. you’d marked it with a red dot and then began clearing out things you didn’t want, giving your belongings to charity or throwing them away before neatly organising what you had left. you thought that your family could decide what to do with them. you didn’t care, you were gonna be dead after all.
it was when your coffee machine had finally broken on you that morning did jessie come swinging into your life. you decided to go to a local coffee shop you liked when she pushed the door open too hard and smacked you square in the face. she had gone bright red and apologised profusely, telling you that the door had slipped out of her grip and that she didn’t even see you. you, with a hand pressed firmly to your forehead, had told her that it was okay, that it was just an accident.
maybe it was her smile, or the way her eyes looked when you actually made eye contact, but something about the canadian had stopped you dead in your tracks. she asked if you wanted to sit with her with the promise of not hitting you in the face again, to which you agreed with a laugh. you began telling eachother about yourselves, from where and how you grew up to hobbies and small quirks you had. when the topic of careers had come around you sheepishly told her that you didn’t watch football beyond the odd match when it was already on tv, and she had beamed at you and cheekily said that she’ll make a blue out of you in no time.
you didn’t go through with it, obviously, and jessie still doesn’t know that she quite literally saved your life that day. your relationship with jessie quickly blossomed and bloomed, soon becoming the most grounding thing in your life. jessie showed you that she loved you long before she told you and never once did she make you feel like you weren’t loved, there were just times where you knew you were hard to love.
like in the beginning when you’d practically ghosted her for three days and then came back with a half assed explanation and a bouquet of flowers; or when you’d completely shut her out and pretend like nothing was wrong when she could see the bags under your eyes and the mess around your apartment. you knew that her friends had told her that it wasn’t a good relationship to be in, that maybe you weren’t who she thought you were. she had brushed them off and ran back to you time and time again.
looking back on it you think that maybe it’s because she knew how bad it was getting, like she caught onto your badly kept secret before you even knew you really had one. when you had initially told her about your depression you insisted that you were doing a lot better and that even though you would have times of relapse, it was nothing compared to how it had been in the past.
the lie had kept up until there were things you were too ashamed to explain to her. like why she couldn’t come over or why you looked like you hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a few weeks. you didn’t know how to tell the footballer that your mental health had sipped out of your control, that you needed help and didn’t know how to ask for it. you didn’t know how to look your own girlfriend in the eye and tell her that you needed her.
that was when you knew it had to end.
when jessie came around to collect her things you just left them in a box outside your front door. you heard her knock but didn’t move from your position as she left with the last pieces of her you had.
she wasn’t stupid, despite the fact that for most of your relationship you clearly thought she was. she noticed the change in your behaviour and how you didn’t go out with friends as much or eat enough. she noticed the late night and even later mornings, the pile of dirty laundry you’d been putting off and the pills you tried to hide.
jessie wasn’t stupid.
when she pleaded to you to fix it, she meant fix you. she wanted you to take the weight off your shoulders and put it on hers because hers are stronger than yours anyway, they can hold more. she wanted you to let her help with the laundry, and to help clean your place. she wanted you to let her wash your hair and make you a good home cooked meal. jessie wanted nothing more than for you to be vulnerable with her, to admit that you needed her just this once.
as much as you adored her, absolutely worshiped the ground she walked on, you weren’t going to do that for her. jessie has a decorated career, one to be proud of, and the last thing she needed was to worry about whether or not you were going to get out of bed in the morning. she didn’t need the extra weight from your baggage dragging her down.
she deserved better, someone who could get up early enough to go for coffee after her morning run, someone who could actually make dinner with her and eat it, someone who didn’t have to create a fucking pathway from their bed to their bathroom because they haven’t cleaned their room in god knows how long. jessie deserved someone worth loving and in your mind, that someone just wasn’t you.
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yesihaveaobsession · 2 days
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Looped In Time
Alastor x female reader
Summary: Like Groundhog Day the reader (you) are experiencing a endless time loop, she asks The Radio Demon to get her out but that involves a deal.
Y/N- Y'all might argue and say, " Groundhog Day." but the real ones know it's actually "Mystery Spot."
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You woke up again. Again? Yes. You found yourself trapped in an endless time loop, with no idea why. Each time, you died in the most outlandish ways: Frank, Sir Pentious's Egg Boi, shot a lasher, it hit you, and then you woke up in your bed. Another time, Cherri Bomb threw a grenade in the hotel lobby, and there you were again... waking up in your bed. Normally, you'd have no idea what day it was in Hell... but you sure as hell knew it was Wednesday.
You wanted to pull your hair out at this point; you needed out. So, you went to look for the man you knew who could help you: the Radio Demon himself. Said demon was returning from his radio tower. He was much taller than you, so you practically had to jog to catch up with him. You didn't want him to disappear, so you shouted.
"Alastor! Just the guy I wanted to see." Alastor stopped and turned to face you with his smile. "So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"
Not wanting anyone else to hear what charade was tormenting you, you grabbed his claw and dragged him into your bedroom, shutting the door and locking it.
Alastor let out a chuckle. "That is one way to get your point across." Was he mocking you? You finally turned to face him. "I'm stuck, you baboon."
"Stuck?" He smiled, but his eyes showed confusion. "I'm stuck in an endless time loop that never ends, and I can't do anything about it!" You ran your hands through your hair, trying to catch your breath.
"That does not sound very pleasant at all." Maybe this was a bad idea. He seemed to enjoy watching you struggle. And God, did you hate it.
"No shit! I somehow die in the dumbest ways and wake up, and it's Wednesday. In fact, this is the hundredth Wednesday I've lived through!" Alastor sat on your bed with his legs crossed over each other. "Sounds... frustrating."
You finally looked over at the deer demon, who clearly was enjoying it by his grin. But he did want to help; he saw the desperate glint in your eyes. "You do realize that you are essentially in Hell currently, yes?"
Seriously? "Yes," You replied flatly. "And you know the only way to break the cycle, yes?" He stood from the bed and made his way over to you, clutching his cane, bending down and sliding a finger down your chest, then pausing and looking up at you.
"No, tell me." You gripped onto the flaps of his suit jacket desperately. Just where he wanted you. "Perhaps I can offer you a way out of this tiresome cycle. But, of course, everything comes at a price." Your giddiness came to an end when he said this. "I'm way smarter than making a deal with you." You replied, letting go of his suit and crossing your arms. To think this was the game that Alastor played. He also knew that getting through to someone looking for help like you was a lot easier.
"I assure you... the price is very reasonable..." He said with animated hand gestures. You were now glaring at him. Was this sensibly a price to pay? Although you weren't sure if he believed you or not. You didn't know how to get out. A part of you felt like Alastor put you in this to get something out of you.
"You're not getting my soul." You spoke. He smiled more. His arms were behind his back, and he started to circle around you, slowly, like you were his prey.
"Oh, you will not have to sell me your soul. Just your services, if you agree to my terms." Terms? What terms? You thought to yourself. You felt your heart start to pound in your chest. The tension between you and the seven-foot man was weighing down on you.
"Why do I feel like you're mocking me?" You pushed, knowing he was hiding something behind those yellow teeth. Alastor chuckled. "No mocking here." He let out a sigh before continuing. "Only a simple contract, and you'll be free of the time loop for good... at least, that is my offer." Alastor held out his hand, with his antlers growing from his head. You took a step back. "Do you have some demands that, if met, would break you out of the loop?"
"I was hoping you'd help me without a deal."
"That technically is not an option, my dear." His hand remained stretched out in front of him. You weighed your options. "Why?"
"Think of this situation as a business transaction, my dear. There are no freebies in this plane of existence. There is a price to pay for everything. And I am only being so generous to you because I want something in return, from you."
Either way, you needed out. "Deal." you replied and shook his hand, you woke up in your bed and looked at the clock it said Thursday, you let out a sigh of relief only to realize you don't know what you agreed to.
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anotherbluesunday · 2 days
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✨Fic Release: In Technicolor—Ch. 1: Hell in a Handbasket (Pugsley + Cheryl)✨
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____________Pugsley/Lee____________
Just past the shopping center that housed the Erewhon Wednesday silently hissed at and Bertie audibly boo'ed was our new school. A glittering beacon of narrow-minded thinking disguised as liberalism if I'd ever seen one, I'd read up on the place. Had Jug and Reggie fill me in on what to expect and it wasn't good.
Insidious racism veiled as social work and fundraisers. Sender students being made into charity cases to make donating families and businesses feel better about themselves while they donate to political campaigns for politicians who couldn't give two shits about the working class. I could see it in the way they looked at us as we pulled up into the student parking lot and hung up the parking permit from the rearview mirror. They were sizing us up. Knew without having to ask that we were from somewhere else. Somewhere where it wasn't commonplace for sixteen year old's to have access to their parents Amex Black card.
Eyes down on the steering wheel for a moment as the girls to our right sat in their brand new canary yellow Jeep Wrangler "whispering" loudly about how dirty the truck was, Bertie reminded me it was only for a year and that chances were not everyone would be as bad as I was making them out to be in my head. Wednesday snorted a laugh from the backseat and I shot her a glance through the mirror saying "Probablemente sean monstruos chupadores de sangre." With a hard reluctant sneer, I forced myself to unbuckle. Grabbed my backpack from the backseat, slipped on my sunglasses, and heaved sigh.
"I can't believe we're actually doing this."
Shrugging her backpack onto her shoulders, Wednesday stood beside me staring at our new prison. "Just close your eyes and count to ten. It'll be over before you know it."
"Promise?"
"No."
Should have known better than to ask. But it made me laugh nonetheless. And that was the only upside here really. I wouldn't be going at this alone. I'd have Wen and Bert and a couple friends if Toni made it through the testing process since her mom made her apply too. We'd be okay. Not great. Not fine. But we'd be okay.
We'll survive.
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.
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____________Cheryl____________
Routine on repeat like some b-rate film that used timelooping as a metaphor for repeating the past until the main character righted their wrongs, I put on my morning music playlist as I stepped into the spacious en suite bathroom that had been warmed to seventy-two degrees for me. My shampoo and conditioner never seemed to run out. My bodywash was always in supply. Shaving razors never dulled and toothpaste never emptied paste the halfway point. The only thing I was burdened with was remembering when to restock my skincare items which, even when they did run out, it was never a problem because there was nothing that couldn't be handled with a quick call.
Perfectly controlled and acclimated. It was like a dollhouse inside of a greenhouse.
Everything's monitored and privacy is a privilege.
You missed practice this morning. It was from dad, the message brightening the screen of my phone as I stepped out of the shower. We'll double up tonight's session and split it for before and after dinner.
Staring at the message, I hesitated. Could hear the small scream itching at the back of my neck like nails dragging down the nerves hidden beneath my skin.
I wanted to throw up and I hadn't eaten anything yet.
I'll have homework. I told him.
You can do it afterwards. Slacking off once leads to habitual laziness Cheryl. No excuses.
My stomach knotted. Worked itself up until the familiar aftertaste of vomit ghosted itself on my taste buds.
The cold sweats that came with it.
The dizzying nausea.
Looking at myself in my vanity mirror, I dissected the bags under my dull brown eyes. Examined my hairline to see if it had thinned anymore than what mom had pointed to over the summer when we went on vacation to Portugal. "It must be from the stress. You should sleep more darling" she had said. At least my lashes had grown back after my nervous snap over spring semester.
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.
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*IMPORTANT NOTE!: Please do keep in mind while reading that the characters Pubert and Pugsley have nicknames that they go by and will go by for most of the story. For Pugsley, his nickname is “Lee” and for Pubert, his nickname is “Bert” or “Bertie.” Wednesday sometimes goes by “Wen” but I feel like that is a known in the Wednesday fandom but I wanted to mention it quickly for readers in the Riverdale fandom so that they’re in the loop.
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ladyvialana · 2 days
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Very much enjoyed the first season of The Dead Boy Detectives.
It was fun, with great characters, interesting storylines, good pacing, and a fantastic ability to balance light-hearted storytelling with some pretty fucked up content at times.
Episode 1 was a little clunky and exposition heavy, but it's only really in that first episode (unlike fucking Wednesday!) and it's pretty easy to look past once they get into the main story. The rest of the episodes are much smoother.
Character interactions are great and all of the characters feel rounded with an actual backstory that influences their interactions and distinct personalities and traits that affect their actions. They're not just plot devices or vehicles for narrative.
Before going into any more detail, I'll just say I really enjoyed it. It's probably not as sophisticated or polished writing or style-wise as The Sandman, but it's still a really good spin off. I'd almost put it in the same vein, tone-wise, as The Umbrella Academy, though perhaps not as irreverent. Much better than similar Netflix teen supernatural dramas like Wednesday or Sabrina (and probably more mature and sophisticated, storytelling-wise than those shows).
I really enjoyed it, am looking forward to/hoping for a second season, and will definitely be watching again.
*
More detailed spoilers under the cut for those interested in my opinions about a few specific storylines/characters/episodes:
*
SPOILERS:
I am honestly surprised we don't have more people hitting on Charles. He is genuinely charming and charismatic as well as kind of open and sincere. Like, Edwin's a standoffish Edwardian public school boy with weird interests and zero people skills. I adore him. But he has negative charisma, especially compared to Charles' eyeliner and grin. Like, why is everyone chasing after Edwin? It's a role reversal I can definitely get behind, but no one is trying to get up into Charles' personal space aside from Crystal? Really??? And even she probably wouldn't have gone for it if he hadn't made it obvious he was interested in her first. Like, I really do get what the writers were trying to go with here, but it's one of those choices that kind of stretch narrative believability a little.
In saying all of that, I'm kind of a sucker for queer pining arcs that could go either way. So the not-so-subtle reveal of Edwin's feelings was both beautiful and painful in the best ways.
Episode 7 was a highlight for me. I'd been waiting for the pay-off from Edwin's backstory and the hellfire sword hanging over his head. But the flashback to Charles' death was probably my favourite scene in the series. Everything about that episode was fantastic, from the tension to the individual mini character arcs in the episodes (Nico coming in clutch with her reading comprehension skills! Crystal finally kicking David's ass!), to the beautiful release of the confession in Hell. I loved all of the insight we got into all of the main characters, knowing the truth of the kind of people they are. Knowing that, yeah, these are all good people who would do anything to help, and who love fiercely. But also, that doing what you can for the people you love sometimes involves meat cleavers and Molotov cocktails.
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caitlynskitten · 11 hours
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Wednesday keeping a physical photo album of all of her girlfriend's nudes???
Whenever she's bored or Enid is away, Wednesday pulls out the album and smiles at all the polaroids Enid's given her throughout their relationship.
Wednesday's favorites are the ones where Enid pulls silly poses while standing in front of the mirror naked. She'll never admit it, but they always make her laugh a little, blown away by how the werewolf can look both goofy and silly but also devastatingly gorgeous at the same time.
Enid takes so many, Wednesday has four full photo albums under her bed. She’ll take a gander at them from time to time. She really admires her werewolf gf’s form and beauty. And yes Enid does like to also take silly and goofy ones. Those are Wednesday’s favorite.
Bonus: One day Wednesday finds a new photo album on her bed. Enid left it for her before she left for a family trip. Wednesday opens it and sees all of the pics and selfies she and Enid took together. Enid went out of her way to print them out in photo form and put it all in an album. Memories for Wednesday to look at and relive in her dreams.
Only Enid can make Wednesday’s heart melt. And when Wednesdays closed the album she couldn’t help but let out a stream of tears. She can’t believe she had such a beautiful and caring partner.
Bonus bonus:
Morticia: Awww, is this the photo album of you two together?
Morticia: *picks up one of the naughty photo albums accidentally*
Wednesday: MOTHER WAIT!
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sentientcave · 3 days
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It's wip wednesday once again. Have a little more Rugby! Just a short segment bc I'm actually getting close to finishing it and posting the whole thing. Sorry it's mostly dialogue a lot of the other stuff gets added in the editing stages lmao
We join Ripper at his office job... (Your welcome to anyone who thinks Ripper would look hot in a suit. Because he absolutely would)
You're eyeing the clock as it crawls just past 4:15, when someone knocks on your office door. "Come in," you call, reopening exel on your computer so it at least looks like you're doing something productive.
"Hey, pally," Brandon says cheerfully, throwing your door open and sitting in the chair in front of your desk. "How's things?"
A social visit? Brandon is the boss's nephew, and a right idiot. You steer clear, generally, and he's mostly left you alone thus far. "Uh. Fine. Headed out soon."
"Rugby on Friday," he says.
You frown at him. Why would he know that? "Uh. Yeah?"
His grin widens. "Your team's playin' mine. Think you've got a chance?"
You think of Simon and Johnny, and the way they can plow through the opposing team. You didn't even know Brandon played. "Uh. Yeah. Figure we do."
"Care to make it interesting?"
A bet? Is that what he interrupted your day for? "Guess I'd put a tenner on it."
He shakes his head, like you’re being ridiculous. "That wouldn't be very interesting, would it?"
He's angling for something, but it's hard to tell what, exactly. "You have stakes in mind?"
"I do. Figure if my team wins, you'll let me take you out for dinner. If yours does, we can, I dunno, switch offices? Two windows in mine. Your little houseplants might like that." He wiggles his fingers at the plants you have hanging in and sitting in front of the window (Spiderplant Georg, Pontius Pilea, and Monstera Mash. Not that you had ever told anyone in the office that you’d named them).
"Dinner?" You ask. "With you?" It's an insane notion. You barely speak to him. You don't want to speak to him.
"Course with me." He grins at you again, propping his feet up on your desk, leaning back in his chair.
You blink at him. "You're kidding."
"What, you don't think I haven't noticed the way you fill out that suit? You're a little unit, Ripley. Wouldn't mind seeing you outside the office now and again."
"I've got a boyfriend," you say automatically. "It wouldn't be anything more than just dinner."
"We'll see."
You hate him for the way he smiles at you, like he doesn't believe you for a second. You're going to have to ask yet another favour, and see if Johnny or Simon will pretend to be your boyfriend. "Well, I'll take the bet. Wouldn't mind two windows."
He sets his feet down and sticks his hand across the desk. "Can't wait to take you out. We'll have fun."
You stand up to shake his hand, glancing at the clock again. Time to go, thank fucking god. “You’re gonna lose, you know. And even if you don’t, there’s no way Simon won’t sit across the restaurant and glare at you the whole time we have dinner.” Internally, you kick yourself for saying Simon. Johnny’s the more obvious choice, and easier to approach for a favour like that too.
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quinn-pop · 2 months
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happy Valentine’s Day remember to tell your favorite friendly penguin you love him
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if you don’t have one of those then a friend is fine i guess :/
(kidding. go hug your friends <3)
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malcanine-art · 5 months
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When is a monster not a monster?
(Oh, when you love it.)
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Regardless of who you do or do not ship, those that get mad at people for viewing Wednesday as anything other than straight are just admitting that if they went to school with someone like Wednesday they wouldn’t have idolised her they would have bullied her. It’s giving, “she can be different but only in the ways I personally approve of” which is honestly the antithesis of her character.
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airenyah · 5 months
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happy to announce that ohm pawat made it through yet another show without being grazed by a bullet despite the fact that he had a gun shoved into his face on multiple occasions
and with that the gay romcom continues to be the only series in which ohm pawat ever ends up with a gunshot wound
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andyridgeley · 1 year
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happy ted lasso s3 week to those who celebrate
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wolfsuggest · 8 months
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Fester: Oh, I don’t really care what pronouns you use on me, but if you get my slurs wrong I’ll set you on fire.
Debbie: You’re so valid, babe. *adds poison to his coffee*
Fester: Thank you, my love.
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in-my-loki-feels · 24 days
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WIP Wednesday
Thanks @kcscribbler for the tag!
This is a silly thing I started as a distraction from my current WIP. Featuring female Loki (technically genderfluid in the context of the full story, but presenting as female and using she/her pronouns here) and Don at the grocery store.
“Don?” “Oh no.” Don didn’t cover his face with his hands but it was a near thing. If he kept walking, maybe he could pretend he hadn’t heard anything. Loki twisted to look behind them, a mischievous smile curling her lips.  “Why, hello there,” she called. Don was forced to stop and turn to Deborah, who was approaching with her half-full cart.   “Hey, Deborah,” he said, summoning a smile. He watched his neighbor’s wide-eyed gaze bounce between him—in his usual rumpled work clothes—and Loki—in a curve-hugging green dress and four-inch heels that were more suited to a runway than a small chain grocery store—and tried to remember if Deborah still kept in touch with his ex. “How are you?”  “Fine, just fine. I didn’t know you were seeing someone.” That was Deborah. About as subtle as a wrecking ball and twice as nosy. Don opened his mouth to make up something, but Loki beat him to it.  “Oh, we’re not dating. Just having a bit of fun,” she said brightly. Well, Loki certainly was, because she pressed herself to Don’s side and laid a hand on his chest, then lowered her voice to a not-at-all-quiet whisper. “Did you know, he’s quite a beast in bed.”  “Loki,” Don hissed, looking around to make sure no one else was close enough to hear. He could feel his face heating up.  Deborah’s eyes somehow grew wider. “Is…is that so?” she asked faintly.
Going with an open tag for this one! If you see this and decide to share, feel free to @ me so I can see it. ❤️
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userchappell · 9 months
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if i were to say "same scene, different font" i'd be right
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quinn-pop · 8 months
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true love is when you get to be a little bit silly together
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stabbyfoxandrew · 3 months
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Hello! Could I have some Guardian Angel Neil? I desperately want to know more! Is the cat dead? Is this why animals can see him? Or can people also see him if he wanted to? Did I forget something and this is already answered ? (I'm sorry for the rambling, I love your boys so much!) I wish you a calm week!!!
WIP Wednesday (2/7) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 114)
“I guess I was. But then your coach got to them before I did, so I let him handle it.” Neil says, giving Andrew a curious look. “What were you going to do?”
Andrew’s brow furrows. “What?”
“I saw the way you put yourself in front of Kevin. You thought he was in danger, didn’t you? That they had come to hurt him.”
“I did.”
“Were you going to kill them?” Neil asks. And it’s an interesting question. When Andrew doesn’t answer, Neil goes on, “You still had your padding on. And a goalie racquet in your hands. I bet it would’ve made a good weapon. Probably could’ve knocked their brains out with it— literally. If they had come after Kevin, would you have stopped them?”
“Yes.” If it comes down to it… If anyone ever tries to hurt Kevin— or Aaron or Nicky— well… The coroner will be definitely involved, it’s just a matter of who they’ll be picking up.
“Next time leave it to me. It’s my job to stand in front of you.” Neil says, eyes locked on Andrew’s. Then he sighs, “With a knife in my hand, apparently.”
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