Absence Persistent
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader
Summary: You’re physically affectionate with everybody except for Wednesday, and she’s determined to find out why.
Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday, yes that is indeed a warning
Word count: 2k
Notes: another late post lol. this a joint request, hope you guys enjoy! (especially you mom)
Masterlist
Physical affection was something that, for the most part, annoyed Wednesday.
Contrary to what many believed, she did not hate it (though if you asked her, she would certainly say she did). She simply didn’t crave it the way so many others did. It was fine in small increments but after a while, it made her uncomfortable.
So while she wasn’t against the very occasional, short-lived hug from those she was close with, it was just something she deemed unnecessary. Something she could easily live without.
Wednesday still tolerated it from a select few people. Namely her family. Her mother was still kind enough to stay at arm’s reach most of the time, but her father was overbearing even when he was trying to tone his affections down. Pugsley was allowed small 10-15 second hugs because he was weak and he needed it.
Enid somehow wormed her way onto that list of people, mostly because she just couldn’t help herself. She was allowed a maximum of 30 seconds worth of physical contact per day, and once that was spent, Wednesday had no qualms about shoving her off.
Though you were close with Enid, you fell into the same category as her mother—seeming to understand and respect her need for personal space.
It was one of the things that drew her to you at first, something that eventually made her (marginally) more willing to close the gap between you two emotionally and allow you behind her walls piece by piece.
She was half convinced that after confessing your feelings, you would switch on her. That you would want to hold hands or hug or, god forbid, cuddle.
However, that didn’t happen. Even after your romantic relationship with her began, you never expected affection from her. You still maintained that distance.
When you sat next to her during class or lunch, you made sure there was ample room between you so your legs or arms never touch hers. While studying, you sat across from her, textbooks and worksheets taking up the void between.
It was amazing, easily one of her favorite parts of your relationship. The fact that you respected her space without any complaints only made you more attractive in her eyes.
Aside from the occasional kiss, you existed in a completely separate space from her. Always. And she liked it that way.
But then her own mind started to betray her.
It started small, with an insignificant observation. Wednesday had always known that you enjoyed being touchy with people you cared for, but over time she began to notice just how much casual physicality you had with your friends.
Walking shoulder to shoulder with Yoko between classes, getting piggybacks from Xavier, giving high fives and fist bumps to Ajax, leaning against Bianca during conversation at lunch, ruffling Eugene’s hair while harvesting a hive together—the list was endless, and it was frequent.
And only when she noticed this did it occur to her that you had never so much as brushed against her before, not even accidentally.
Wednesday found an ache forming with each subsequent act she witnessed, the gratefulness she felt about you keeping your distance slowly souring.
As embarrassing as it was to admit, Enid was a particular point of contention in this aspect.
See, Enid shared your propensity for physical affection. It was one of the reasons why you two were such close friends.
You and Enid were always physically connected in some way when you were together. Linking arms, holding hands, resting your head on her shoulder or on her lap while you gossiped about whatever trite drivel Enid put on her blog recently.
Wednesday hated it. She hated having to be subject to your constant physicality, seeing the two of you so unabashedly happy to be in one another’s presence, to see you so open in displaying it. But worst of all, she hated the way it made her feel in turn.
Jealousy wasn’t something Wednesday was used to feeling, especially toward someone as non-threatening as Enid. But the feeling itself wasn’t even the worst part, it was the way it fed into her burgeoning insecurity.
The desire to feel your skin on hers spread like a malignant cancer, slowly poisoning her mind, body, and soul.
She grew to hate the ever-present space between you two, silently wishing you would bridge the gap and brush your shoulder or arm against hers in the halls, intertwine your fingers between hers while studying, or wrap your arms around her in the solitude of your dorm.
Anything to alleviate the growing want within her.
But she could never find the words. Try as she might, Wednesday just couldn’t find the right time, the right place, the right circumstance. And on the rare occasions that she did, her voice caught in her throat, whatever words she had on her tongue dying in the face of the seemingly insurmountable chasm between you and her.
So she could only sit, wait, and watch from across the rift until her emotions finally boiled over and pushed her into action.
-
Weekly study sessions were something Wednesday routinely looked forward to.
It was a tradition that began mere months after she met you. At first, she simply needed a study partner and no one else was willing to go at her (completely reasonable) pace except for you.
You, who said that very first day that you would always go at her pace, a sentiment that you continued to echo even now, months into your relationship.
Usually, these sessions would be in the Weathervane, tucked into her favorite booth in the back corner together for hours on end, talking about so much more than schoolwork. But recently, having the table separating you from her was agonizing; it was like a physical manifestation of the distance between you.
She couldn’t deal with it anymore, so she began inviting you to study in her dorm. It wasn’t quite as pleasant as the café but she was willing to sacrifice comfort to get even an inch closer to you.
And yet, she was no closer than before.
Because even now, you were staying away from her. Keeping the books between you as you sat across from her on the floor. Even without the physical barrier of the table, there remained an immovable expanse of space between you that she just couldn't get rid of.
You were so close yet still so far and Wednesday could no longer take it.
“Do you not care for me as much as you do your friends?” Not the most articulate way to put it, but it was to the point, and it effectively got your attention.
Your head shot up with a whiplash-inducing urgency, brows furrowed and eyes wide with a concern that permeated your tone. “What? Of course I do, Wednesday. Why would you think I didn’t?”
“It’s just-” She cut herself off, her point not quite coming together correctly. Wednesday never struggled with her words. She was a writer, after all. So the sudden trouble she was having annoyed her greatly. Stubbornly, she started again. “You always…touch them. You said yourself that it’s how you show that you care for someone, but you never touch me. You never show me that you care for me like that.”
“Wednes-“ you began, but she didn’t notice, plowing on with her thoughts.
“Did I do something? Have I upset you? Do I repel you somehow?” The way her voice shook at the end nearly made her look away, the sudden show of insecurity exceedingly humiliating. But she needed to know what was wrong.
“No, no, you haven’t done anything to upset me,” you said, shaking your head quickly. The words did little to ease Wednesday’s mind.
“Then why don’t you show me the same physicality you show them?” she asked, voice lowering to a near whisper.
“Well, I’ve seen how uncomfortable you get whenever Enid tries to touch you too much. So I tried my best to avoid any contact with you so you didn’t begin to resent me for subjecting you to something that you hate,” you sighed, posture deflating slightly. “I just didn’t want to do anything to drive you away from me.”
Conflicting emotions coursed through Wednesday.
The revelation that you were constantly abstaining from something you loved for her was…undeniably sweet. But it was also terrifying—the fact that you were willing to change something so fundamental to yourself as the way you showed love for her perceived comfort.
Wednesday had never met anyone outside her family that cared for her so much that they would alter their behavior for her benefit. And, admittedly, she wasn’t sure what to do now that she had.
In the end, all she could muster was a distantly mumbled, “I see.”
Almost immediately, she was swept back into her head, conflicted again.
On one hand, this was completely uncharted territory. Hugging Enid of her own accord once was one thing, but wanting to do things like that with you constantly was something else, something unfamiliar. Something that, if she was honest, she wasn’t sure she was aptly prepared for.
But she was Wednesday Addams. She had stood up to Tyler after his betrayal, faced Thornhill alone in the crypt, looked Crackstone right in the eye during the final battle without fear. She prided herself on never letting insignificant feelings like fear stop her from getting what she wanted.
And Wednesday would be appalled if she allowed herself to be defeated by something as menial as this.
Fingers twitching, she braced herself to reach out to you, but you were already moving before she could.
Her eyes followed you as you stood, abandoning your open textbook on the floor and offering her a hand. She stared at it for a moment then slowly brought her hand to yours, inhaling against the electricity that coursed through her as you pulled her to her feet. You tugged her over to her bed and laid down, pulling her down with you.
You took a moment to situate yourself into a comfortable position on your side before winding your arm around her, softly pressing her back to your chest.
Wednesday was frozen, tense in your arms as she took in the situation.
The newness of it was overwhelming in a way she couldn’t hate. Her heart raced at the sensation of having you literally wrapped around her, your hold on her waist tender and firm and entirely disruptive to her state of mind.
Any coherent string of thoughts was muddled by the feeling of your thumbs stroking her stomach, the way she could feel your chest rise against her back, the steady beat of your heart reverberating through her, contrasting her own.
“Relax, Wednesday.” Your words vibrated against her back, and she found herself complying before she even fully realized what you said.
She allowed the feeling of your all-encompassing embrace to still her turbulent thoughts, letting your warmth seep into her bones and calm the frantic beating of her heart.
Minutes passed before she dared to slip her hand down yours, interlacing her fingers with yours like she wanted to do for so long. A soft breath against her neck made her shiver.
Wednesday wanted to stay in this moment as long as possible but again, her body began to betray her. Exhaustion weighed down on her, drooping her eyelids with an alarming frequency. Staying awake was becoming more of a challenge by the second, but she was determined to escape the hold of her sudden enervation.
As if you had a sixth sense about her situation, you shifted lightly, slipping one of your legs between hers.
“Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up,” you murmured, the light slur in your words indicating that you too were close to succumbing to the call of slumber.
“Promise?” she asked, uncaring of how childish the question was.
The soft laugh you let out tickled the hair on her neck. You tightened your hold on her waist, properly resting your forehead on the back of her head. “Yeah, I promise.”
Satisfied, Wednesday closed her eyes, the bliss of your touch being her last thought before she was finally lulled into a dreamless sleep within your embrace.
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We Are Sucks, and BL Will Be Worse When This Succeeds
We Are the series, the latest empty drivel from New Siwaj, has crossed a line for me that I cannot abide. This show is nothing more than loosely connected setups for BL moments that are easy to gif or clip for maximum virality, designed to fulfill a financial obligation to iQIYI and otherwise keep the B- and C-tier BL pairs occupied with work. This show is saying nothing about the human condition with any verve, and there is no queer subtext or text to pull from any of these characters that the viewer isn’t already bringing to the table.
I had stopped writing Stray Thoughts for this show because it doesn’t really have much of a plot or story to tell, but I am not going to be able to continue this show past episode 5. This show is the BL equivalent of a cumshot compilation. It is designed exclusively as fap material to coo over known BL pairs smiling at each other. I was chatting with @twig-tea yesterday about how after five episodes we still don’t really have anything resembling an arc for these characters and how it’s just a bunch of BL dudes hanging out. Twig described it as “disingenuous to [even] call it a show” and “...a bunch of compatibility workshops strung together.”
I hate this so much. There is no story being told here. This is like watching actor reels on IG or TikTok. There is nothing here to hold onto other than your baseline fondness for the cast. There was a moment in episode 5 that felt completely unscripted between Aou and Boom that felt like Boom reacting to being teased by Aou and not a moment between their characters. They didn’t even let Aou’s character confess the specificity of his feelings because they don’t matter to this show! It doesn’t matter why he likes Boom’s character! Just that he does! Why does Boom’s character respond so positively to these feelings? Why didn’t he take initiative on his own before? What changed at all? What’s the goddamn story here? There’s nothing! We just make it up and enjoy the smiles.
I usually don’t want to bitch about shows I don’t like extensively on here, and I especially don’t like spamming tags with negative commentary or musing on shows. However, there are 11 more episodes of this empty nothing, and 30 more episodes of New Siwaj trash on the horizon. He has become the GMMTV BL Babysitter, and I am horrified by what this means for the genre. I try to stay patient with New because usually he captures some form of gay melancholy or angst in his shows, but there is none of that here in We Are. All of these characters know each other and are basically just hanging out for about an hour of TV.
I worry about stuff like this being good enough to monetize. There’s nothing interesting for me in this experience with a queer lens. There is no real story being told, and caring about any details as if they matter leads to questioning the integrity of the characters (are we really doing a slave narrative in a college BL again?). It feels like the end product of giving up on chasing ratings and only chasing virality to monetize the talent for ad spots, concerts, fan meets, and merch. No longer do we even need to make stories about compelling romances between men. We just need to get passably attractive boys on screen together and just ask them to smile.
What does it mean for the genre if GMMTV goes another step forward with this and no longer brings any robust writing to the BL table. Are we satisfied with BL as glorified slideshows of shippable actors? What happens when GMMTV is able to easily milk this over other robust productions? Is this just the filler fluff to keep people engaged with the network between their solid projects to prove their bonafides? BL has always struggled with depictions of queerness, but are we at the point where we don't even try to tell stories that even feel queer? Is just simply putting boys next to each other enough? I don’t like this at all, and it unsettled me as I watched five episodes of We Are only to feel nothing.
I am always half-joking about being over New Siwaj, but I really am at this point.
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