O Surto Sjjdjdjdjfjf

Mds eu tô chorando

Just a short writing of Wednesday’s POV of the ‘roomie break-up’ cause I haven’t got that scene out of my mind and just every little facial feature Wednesday made had me thinking of what could possibly be running through her mind.

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Her body groans with each step she takes to her room. The last few hours have proven to be valuable but also draining on her body, despite all of the combat training Uncle Fester has put her through. That house, the Gates house, there was someone in there and they had cleared that basement and made Wednesday look like an utter fool once more. Made her look like the village nutcase, blabbing about fictitious stories and delusions.

She grinds her teeth and seethes. Wednesday is a grandmaster at chess. She loves to evaluate each piece on the board, planning out multiple actions each piece can take, and what she can do if a Knight moves instead of the Bishop. Chess is one of the few games that can occupy her mind for any amount of time. She plans out not only every move she can make but also her opponent. She plans out the enemy’s moves first and then builds up all of her moves after. Seeing how each scenario can play out and no matter what, she always ends up as the victor.

This monster, Xavier she’s sure of it, is thwarting each calculated move she has. It’s almost as if he’s trying to play checkers instead.

He will be brought down in a fiery blaze and Wednesday will stand on his ashes.

But first, Wednesday needs to take a better look at the music box she swiped. She also should tell Enid that she doesn’t need to expect any repercussions from Weems.

What Wednesday doesn’t expect is the giant bags Enid has on her bed.

“Where are you going?” It slips out before she can assess the whole situation.

“Yoko’s room.” A distant thunder cracks. “Thornhill said I could crash there for a few nights.”

There it is again, that gnawing in her stomach. It claws at her insides as Enid’s words sink in.

“There’s no need. I spoke with Weems. You and Xavier won’t be punished.” That has to be the reason Enid is leaving. She’s just too worried about punishment. Enid wouldn’t actually abandon her–

Even if she did, why should Wednesday care?

“Am I supposed to thank you?” She bites out and Wednesday can tell by the tone that Enid is hurt. It’s a bit irritating. Wednesday already did her groveling earlier, more of a short ‘I apologize but, it was for the greater good’ which felt like groveling for Wednesday. But, the bottom line is she apologized, just as Enid has asked her to do so in past incidents. And every time Wednesday did, the issue was always dropped. Enid never held any grudges, why now? Why is this different?

The gnawing from her gut causes another feeling to stir within her chest. This one makes her heartbeat pick up the pace.

“I already apologized. It’s over.” A crack of thunder rumbles and it’s the knife that slices through the suffocating air.

Finally, Enid turns to look at her. She hasn’t bothered to change. Her nauseating patterns are now stained from the events that unfolded tonight.

Her stomach twists just the slightest seeing how Enid’s eyes darken over. Her gaze has never once intimidated Wednesday. Those soft blue eyes have always held an innocence that usually sickens Wednesday. Her eyes are always so wide and naive and just so full of wonder that Wednesday sometimes just can’t pull her own away.

This look, however, reminds Wednesday that Enid Sinclair is in fact a Lycan.

“Over?” She repeats back, an underlying edge to her voice. It’s noticeable enough that something hot starts in the center of Wednesday’s chest and a small lump forms in her throat.

“Tonight was the icing on the birthday cake you couldn’t even be bothered to cut.” Enid’s tone is clear and each word is sharp as it exits from her mouth.

A spark of heat warms her face, a flush of embarrassment. Perhaps shame? She grinds her teeth. Why is Enid still upset about the damn cake?

Enid’s eyes start to water and Wednesday finally picks up that Enid is not actually talking about the cake.

“You’ll use anyone to get what you want, even if it means putting them in danger.” Enid’s voice cracks and each word pokes into Wednesday’s chest. They don’t pierce her, but it hits hard enough that she’s sure bruises will be left.

The lump settles in her throat and begins to grow. Wednesday gave her a chance to leave at the gates, but Enid chose to stay and come along with her. Even then, Wednesday knew she could take care of them. She had no doubt that she would keep them safe from the monster. Enid was never in any real danger, at least not in Wednesday’s chess game.

“We could have died tonight because of your stupid obsession.” Enid didn’t trust her to keep her safe. She didn’t think she was important to Wednesday. Her heart rattles painfully, and more and more emotions start to awaken and whisper to her.

Wait no–why is anyone’s safety a priority to Wednesday? No, no, no. This case, the investigation is what is important and should be the only thing to discuss.

“But we didn’t.” Her voice isn’t as biting as Enid’s, it struggles to slip past the blockage and she’s pretty sure Enid notices. Because of course, Enid notices, she studies Wednesday as much as Wednesday studies her.

“And now I’m one step closer to solving this case. That is what is important.” She quickly adds, her tone gaining venom once more. Enid needs to understand that Wednesday values this case. That she should just let this go and see that the case should be the only thing to worry about.

But as she stares at Enid, notes the way her breathing labors and a dangerous wildfire sparks in her eyes, Wednesday isn’t too confident of her words anymore. The lump scrapes up her esophagus, her body is practically burnt alive as emotions course through her. Each one feels like a derailed train cart, all attempting to go at once. There it is, that build-up behind her eyes. She has to clench her jaw to keep the last bit of her control, she won’t slip like this in front of Enid.

Enid closes her eyes and Wednesday would almost praises her for collecting herself. Ironic; Enid Sinclair controlling herself as Wednesday Addams feels every single wall crumble.

Oh, how the world mocks her.

“I’ve tried,” she starts, eye twitching, “really, really, really hard to be your friend.”

Wednesday swallows hard just as Enid does. She knew she was difficult but she always assumed that Enid was never trying. She thought their…relationship was natural, almost easy.

Enid’s eyes shine with determination and Wednesday can sense that this will not end well for them.

“Always put myself out there. Thought of your feelings. Told people, 'I know she gives off serial killer vibes, but she’s really just shy.”

Has she done that? Has she just gone out of her way to defend Wednesday? Even without her being there? She’s done all this and has never once told Wednesday. Never once told Wednesday that she owes her. That she just wanted to? She must have done it because she wants something from Wednesday. Everyone does.

Her head pounds as the train carts start to increase in speed. The tracks are starting to twist together and intersect at dangerous points. Her veins pump electricity and she feels the need to hide away, those tears are at a breaking point, they stab at her eyes and soon enough they will spill.

No, no, no–

“I never asked you to do that–”

“You didn’t have to because that’s what friends do!” Enid cuts her off, her voice the loudest it’s ever been against Wednesday.

Those words pierce her chest, knife twisting as Enid says, friends.

“They don’t have to be asked.” She pauses for a moment, her own tears at bay. Wednesday’s heartbeat hammers in her ears and realization dawn on her.

Enid never wanted anything from Wednesday, except friendship. Friendship. Something of no real value. Almost a sweet nothing.

“And the fact that you don’t know that, says everything.” Her words waver the slightest but it all sucker punches Wednesday just the same. A tear bubbles its way to Enid’s eyes and she spins away before Wednesday could see if it fell or not.

Wednesday can’t blink. She’s positive that if she does it’ll unlock the gates. Each salty tear clings to her eyeballs, torturing each nerve and begging to be set free. Her gaze drifts down and she helplessly watches as Enid zips up her luggage.

A vile of emotions and words build inside her. Her mind tries to slow the trains just so she can formulate the perfect sentence that’ll get Enid to stay. To just listen to Wednesday and at least see some reason. To not just leave Wednesday like these months didn’t have some impact on them. To not leave Wednesday–

“You want to be alone, Wednesday?” It’s not a question in the slightest, but Wednesday can feel the first syllable start to break free. But, Enid has already made her decision. “Be alone.” She snaps out as she pushes by and out the door.

Just as the door slams, the train carts collide. Explosions go off of anger, remorse, sorrow, shame, guilt, desperation, and self-pity. Her body is being cooked alive as she stands frozen. Her hearing is nothing but a buzz as Enid’s words echo in her head. Each thought of them sets off mini explosions, igniting her body over and over. She almost fears her heart is actually caving in, each beat feels more like a chore than a natural occurrence.

She needs to expel some of these damned emotions. She needs to scream or stab something or even she just,

Needs to cry.

Her hands twitch and she squeezes her fists shut. She will not cry. How pathetic would that be?

Breathe in. Hold. Take back control. Release.

Numbness comes easily to Wednesday. She experiences it almost more than hatred. It’s an old friend that has never disappointed her, it has kept her safe all these years. Why feel when she could just numb everything?

It has kept her heart safe and her tears locked away.

The train carts are suspended, not gone or set back in place, just on pause. Emotions that are stuck and never to be sorted out.

Her feet almost drag along the floor as she locks eyes with the glass window. She chokes down the lump as her eyes linger on Enid’s colorful side. She would rather be sliced open than admit that the colors have grown on her. At least, in the afternoon light how the colors decorate Enid’s face. Bouncing off her round face and painting her in a glow that entices Wednesday.

She slides down and pulls her knees to her chest. The numbness usually comforts her, but as she listens to the thunder roar and no giggles or pop music plagues her ears, it offers nothing to fill the void in her chest.

Goody warned she would end up alone. It has always been inevitable. But, for once in her life.

It doesn’t feel good.

scarf wasn’t saved cause I wanted to draw some marcanne 

Akko in pocari sweat

Akko in Po*ari Sweat ad sketch

From Discord Server

enjoy her genki-ness!

Based on the painting “The Meeting on the Turret Stairs”

Can you tell I hate coloring and backgrounds? I hope not 😭

Gundam witch from mercyuri by @ymurdaddae

source

Page 1 Suletta: Just wanted to say I have a massive crush on you! S: I've been feeling this way months now and I think it's time I told you about my feelings. Miorine: Oh M: Wait.

Page 2 M: Who's the other guy?! S: He's here for moral support. M: LMFHSJSJSJD are you fr?! Till: I'm here for you man. Do your thing.

Akkomunista es la razón por la que sigo adelante.

HEY! We were here first! Go find a spot somewhere else!

O desespero kkdkdkjdkdd não julgo faria o mesmo

im going insane thinking about this newborn alpaca fucking look at it

Diakko x On a Leash AU!!

I wanted to draw them as Ruse and Red ever since I started reading this manhwa, heheh