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malarkgirlypop · 6 months

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hihi I had an idea with Joe Liebgott x Nurse where they despised each other in high school and never saw each other again after that. Once the war begins, reader volunteered to become a nurse in aid stations, and one day lieb gets shot in the ass lol and has to go to the aid station where she is. She never imagined he'd become her patient, and he never imagined they'd ever cross paths again, and it feels like they're back in high school all over again

enemies to lovers basically hihi

Goody Part 1 (Joseph Liebgott x Fem!Reader)

OMG This is the best idea. I hope that you like it. This is the first part! More to come after this. As soon as I got this message I dropped everything to write it. I'm so excited for the next part so stay tuned! Also let me know how smutty I can be ahaha. This is based off the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to the people involved.

Mr Lancy drones on, my eyes droop as he speaks. My brain can’t handle all the maths questions on the board. Maths is my least favourite subject for two reasons. One I hate it all the numbers they jumble together and I can never make sense of the questions and two Joseph Liebgott is in this class with me. We don’t get to pick our seats either, Mr Lancy isn’t nice enough for that.

So when I walked in on the first day of the year I took my respective seat from the chart that was pinned to the board, I thought there must be an odd amount of students in the class since everyone had a desk partner except for me. I wasn’t too fussed, I was at the back of the class, so I could get away with doing nothing. The bell rang and in came Mr Lancy, he was calling the roster when Joe strolled in. Oh no! I thought, please don’t be my desk buddy! Joseph Liebgott had a reputation around school for being a miscreant, always getting into trouble. He once gave all the boys in our year the most dreadful skullets in the school toilets. He got suspended for a whole week. They never actually expel him, because he is one of the top scoring students in our year. I have no idea how he is so smart when he makes so many stupid choices. I groan internally as he makes a B-line to my desk. Joe and I have never gotten along, I like to follow rules unlike him and he likes to tease me for it.

“Ugh, I’m with you goody!” I glare at the boy as he slumps down into the seat next to me, using the shortened version of the nick-name he has for me, goody-two-shoes.

“Don’t flatter yourself ass-hat, I’m not pleased to be with you either.” I growl at him, clenching my fists on the desk. No one pisses me off quite like Joe does, I see him and I just want to strangle him.

“Ass-hat, that’s a good one. Where did you come up with that?” I roll my eyes, ignoring his taunting. I know that if I bite we will end up in a fist fight on the floor and I do not need him getting me into trouble.

So everyday I have to deal with the ass-hat that is Joseph Liebgott and maths. I sigh, looking at the clock, come on, how has it only been two minutes since I last checked the time.

“Miss Y/L/N, how about you come up and solve this one!” Mr Lancy calls my name, snapping me from the thoughts, shit! I have not been paying attention at all. Joe chuckles from beside me seeing the panic on my face. I send daggers his way, he pretends to cower back. I plaster a tight smile to my face, and make my way to the front, taking the chalk from Mr Lancy. I stand in front of the board, my heartbeat accelerating, a sweat breaks out across my forehead. I don’t even get the equation on the board. I bit my lower lip, glancing out of the corner of my eye, Mr Lancy stands with his arms crossed over his chest waiting for me to solve the equation. My hand shakes as I raise the chalk, feeling pressured to write something. I shakily drag the chalk down the blackboard, it squeaks making me wince. I cringe, I just wrote one. Someone end my suffering. I plead quietly in my brain. A chortle of laughter comes from the back of the room, everyone turns to see Joe bright red in the face dying from a fit of giggles. I scowl at him as he wipes tears from his eyes.

“Well if you think you can do better Mr Liebgott, by all means come up.” I sigh from relief, putting down the chalk and walking back to my seat, I pass Joe who makes his way to the front, he chuckles again as we pass. I clench my fists, don’t punch him. I take a breath trying to control my hatred. I sit down as Joe saunters to the front. He picks up the chalk erasing my shakey one with his hand. He solved the maths problem quickly. Turning and grinning at the class, some of the girls let out dreamy sighs. I roll my eyes. He makes eye contact with me, raising his eyebrows, giving me his signature smirk. I control myself from slapping the smug look off his face as he comes and sits down next to me again.

“Aw goody, you’ll get it next time.” He teases.

“Fuck off!” I say lowly. He chuckles again, knowing how to really get under my skin. I swear he takes pleasure in just pissing me off.

Last day of the year, and we would’ve graduated high-school. I walk with my friends as we collect our year books. We look through the photos, laughing at the terrible ones that were submitted. We all sign each other’s books, writing cute notes to each other about how we will miss each other and how we need to stay in touch. I sit reading all the notes left for me, smiling down at my book. It’s ripped from my hands, I gasp looking up to find a smirking Joe. I groan out loud.

“Give it back ass-hat!” I say standing, maybe this is the day I finally punch this guy in his big nose.

“Aww how sweet!” He mocks pouting, reading all of the messages written.

“Joe! Give it back, or I swear!” I say louder, stepping forward to grab the book from him, but he moves quickly away and holds the book over his head out of my reach.

“Or you swear you'll do what?” He taunts. I raise my foot, harshly stomping on his toes. His smug look replaced with pain. He drops his guard, I take my chance. I leap up grabbing my book from his hand, not realising he is only standing on one foot. He loses his balance as I jump on him. We topple backwards, landing in a heap on the ground. I look down at our position, I straddle his torso, our faces very close together as we both grip the year book in our outstretched hands. I pant in his face, our eyes locking briefly. Before we both snap to our senses.

“Oh god!” I shout, as he pushes me off him. “Get off me goody!” I take my yearbook back.

“Jesus if you wanted to get into my pants, all you had to do is ask!” His smug grin returned.

“Gross, I would never.” I hissed in his face. “Me either!” he retorts with the same energy.

That was the last time I saw the dreaded Joseph Liebgott. After I finished high-school, I went to university and studied to be a nurse. I got my degree and got a job in the hospital. I had only been working for a year before Japan bombed Pearl Harbour. I had wanted to help so I volunteered with a few of the other nurses I was working with. They had scooped us up immediately needing all the help they could get. Before we knew it we were on a boat to Europe, to help the soldiers. We had been assigned to the aid stations close to the front, where the medics sent back their men to be treated and then moved back onto the front again. It was hard work, the men that came in were often in very bad shape, needing assistance immediately. We only had one doctor and very limited supplies. So most of the decisions being made were by the nurses. I liked it, it made me think, tested my limits. Sometimes it tested them a bit too much though. Not everyone can be saved, no matter how hard you try, or go over the scenarios in your head each time, thinking of something you could’ve done differently. After a while the thrill got old. It was more heartbreaking than anything. But the nurses kept each other spirits high, if we were down the men could tell which brought down morale too. We weren’t just here to heal them of their injuries but support them. I always put on a smile, made small talk with the men, built rapports so they felt safe.

Eugene Roe, the medic for Easy company, came into the aid station with other men carrying a soldier on a stretcher.

“Hey Gene!” I chirped to the man as I finished tending to one of the patients.

“Hi Y/N!” He smiled back at me, turning around to tell the men to put the soldier on one of the beds.

“What have we got today?” I said as I approached the medic.

“You’re gonna love this, it’s another ass wound.” He chuckled. I sigh, the men of Easy company have a way of getting their asses shot. It had become an inside joke between Gene and I, we said that it’s because when they were lying down flat that their butts were still higher than their heads, because they’re so juicy.

“Easy men I swear.” I grin looking down at the patient who lay on their front. I bent down looking at the dressing Gene had put on, the man’s pants had been ripped open for Gene to get at the injury.

“Any pain meds?” I asked, lifting the dressing. A fairly deep graze was on the left cheek of the man’s behind. Like the bullet had just skimmed the top of it.

“No, he's a tough one.” Gene replied, giving the man a pat on the back.

“Damn right I am!” I froze, my hands stilled. Not moving, my eyes glanced at the face of the injured man. That nose was unforgettable.

“Joseph Liebgott!” I uttered. Joe craned his head around to look at me.

“Goody?” A shocked look dawned his face.

“You two know each other or something?” Gene asked, watching the interaction.

“Ugh out of everyone, why did it have to be you!” I groaned, not replying to Gene.

“Oh like I’m so thrilled!” Joe retorted in a sarcastic tone. “We went to high-school together, she was a pain in my ass.” Joe looked at Gene answering his question.

I scoffed, “Pain in your ass, I doubt it. He was a nightmare, Gene. Always up to no good.”

“Oh I could imagine that. Well I will leave him in your care then, Y/N.” Gene patted me on the shoulder as he made his way to the door.

“Gene, don't leave me here with her! She might try to kill me!” Joe cried, reaching for the leaving medic who just laughed at Joe.

“You’ll be fine, Liebgott, she’s a great nurse.” Gene called to him, giving us a cheesy grin before ducking out of sight.

“I’m not going to kill you Joe.” I rolled my eyes at his antics.

“You tried to kill me in high-school.” Joe protested.

“Yeah well this isn’t high-school. So turn around and let me do my job.” He groaned but did as I asked, burying his head into the pillow and letting out an audible groan.

I got to work, cleaning his wound. I washed out the laceration with clean water, cleaning around the peri-wound as well. It was deep enough to be packed, so I cut my gauze and packed it into the wound.

“Ouch!” Joe groaned. His butt cheeks clenching.

“Sorry, hold still.” I said as he squirmed under my touch. I finished the last of my packing, then placed a clean dressing over the injury. “I’ll go get you some new pants.” I scurried away to get some fresh pants for him. I returned with new pants, giving them to him, before closing the curtain and letting him change. He pulled back the curtain, looking ready to leave.

“Where are you going?” I asked him, as I moved from another soldier’s bed.

“Well you fixed me up so I can go.” Joe said, trying to move past me, I blocked his path.

“We haven't discharged you yet. You will need to stay until it heals fully.” I informed him.

He didn’t look pleased with me. “But it’s fine!”

“Well no, I have packed it and that needs to be changed daily. So you can’t leave. And no before you say it, Gene cannot do it in the field.” I interrupt him, seeing the thought in his mind before he can say it.

“Tell me Joe, what do you do in your foxhole most of the day?” I ask the man trying to get my point across.

“Sit.” He replies, looking confused.

“Exactly, you sit. That wound on your butt, that you sit on, will not heal if you go back to the front.” I explained to him, “Plus, because it’s on your ass, there is a greater chance of infection. So no, you’re not leaving until we say so.” I raise my eyebrows daring him to speak. He gives me a tight lipped smile, sighing loudly. He lies back down on his bed.

“Can you do a double tonight?” Mary asks me with puppy dog eyes. I glance at the clock, I’m supposed to be finishing in about ten minutes and I was so excited to go to sleep.

“Why can’t you do the night shift?” I ask her.

She blushes, becoming sheepish. “I have a date.” She grins at me. I know exactly who she is going on a date with as well, one of the soldiers that she tended to last week. They both became infatuated with each other, she didn’t leave the hospital that whole week, begging to do all of the night shifts so that she could stay with her lover boy. She even did one of my shifts for me, I had the whole day to lie in bed and do nothing. So I suppose I owe it to her. I nod reluctantly, as she grins clapping her hands together.

Night shift isn’t always too bad, most of them men just sleep and sometimes we have people brought in. But due to poor visibility at night, nothing much really happens to warrant a trip to the aid station. But today I feel extra exhausted, because I was fighting the whole time with ass-hat. Every time I turned around I found his eyes on me. Watching me like a hawk. He would smirk at me, while I sent daggers back. He was back to his old antics of winding me up and it was driving me up the wall. All I had wanted to do was go home and lie down. Now I had to stay and listen to him snore peacefully in bed, while I stayed up all night.

I sat catching up on the notes for the day. They were normally brief due to having no real down time to finish them all since we were always so busy and understaffed. I sat tapping my pencil to paper trying to think of what happened to the particular patient I was writing about. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander to the sleeping Joe. A candle dimly lit the room so I could make out his face in the dark. He lay on his back snoring quietly. His brown hair tousled slightly on his forehead, a relaxed expression on his face, I hate to admit it but he’s very handsome. Only when he isn’t pestering me, I think I could get used to a sleeping Joe, he doesn’t drive me nuts in this state.

I sat staring at the clock, willing it to be 0700 so that I could leave and get some sleep. My eyes drooped as I propped my head up on my hand. Mary arrived early, bursting into the room all excited. I grinned at the young girl, as she made her way over to me. I was eager to hear how her date went with the soldier. She kept me company while waiting for the next shift of nurses to arrive telling me about her night.

“And then he lent in and kissed me.” She almost swooned out of her seat. I laughed watching her. “Oh Y/N it was so romantic, truly!” She lent in closer whispering, “I think I’m in love.”

“Steady on Mary, it was only your first date.” I cautioned the young nurse. But all she did was grin at me. I shook my head, laughing at her again.

“Y/N we need you to stay on just for a little while longer.” Dr. Johns told me, my smile dropped. I nodded reluctantly, knowing they needed me. I did my round leaving Joe till the end. He lay on his stomach reading a comic he had borrowed off of one of the other soldiers.

“Morning Joe.” I said sleepily, not really in the mood for his smugness.

“Morning goody.” He grinned, turning to look at me, his face dropped. He tilted his head assessing me. “Have you been here all this time?” He asked, looking at my face. I’m sure the bags under my eyes gave away my lack of sleep. I nodded barely able to keep my eyes open.

“I just need to change your dressings, can you pull your pants down for me.” I asked, he looked like he was going to make a snarky comment but bit his tongue, doing as I had asked. I removed the previous dressing, cleaned it and then packed it again and applied a new dressing over top. He pulled his pants back up after I was done, rolling onto his side. I didn’t get up immediately, enjoying the softness of his bed. I felt myself nodding off, I put out my hand to steady myself, leaning onto my elbow. My eyes won’t even open. I feel a tug, as my arm is pulled from under me, I fall onto the bed. I feel gentle hands place a pillow under my head. I sigh, feeling comfortable. The bed moves, I hear the sound of the curtain being pulled. The bed dips again, someone takes a seat beside me. I don’t hear much after that, I fall fast asleep.

“Goody.” Someone shakes my shoulder. I blink, raising my head from the pillow. I look up to find Joe lying beside me, one hand on my shoulder the other grasping the comic. I am positioned awkwardly on the bed lying half way down the mattress, curled into a little ball. “I let you sleep for an hour, but people are looking for you.” Joe informs me lying back on his pillow, and continuing his reading. I rub my eyes and yawn. Joe let me sleep on his bed. I’ve been asleep for an hour SHIT!

“Oh shit!” I say springing up from my position. I fix my hair and uniform, straightening out the creases in my dress. I pull back the curtain, trying to make it look like I didn’t just fall asleep on a patient’s bed for an hour.

“A thank you would be nice.” I hear from behind me, as Joe stares at me waiting.

“Thank you Joe.” I smile and leave quickly to try and find the other nurses. The rest of the shift is a blur. I don’t think I would’ve made it without the nap Joe let me have. It was so busy I didn’t even get a chance to sit down and they were supposed to let me leave after the morning but they insisted I stayed since it was so hectic, I didn’t have a choice but to stay. I finally gather all of my stuff and head for the door, passing Joe’s bed on my way out.

“Bye Joe.” I say as I leave, not really thinking too much about it.

“Why are you being so nice, Goody?” I hear him pipe up. I sigh and smile as I turn to face him.

“I can be nice, Joe.” I state.

“I don’t know, I don’t like it. What are you up to?” He squints his eyes at me looking suspicious.

“I’m not up to anything!” I counter, “I’m just too tired to have to fight with you.” Without giving him the chance to reply I leave quickly, saying goodbye to the other men on my way out.

#ass-hat #goody #hehe #are we about to kiss rn?#we love the bickering #like an old married couple #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers #joseph liebgott #i hope you all enjoy #enemies to lovers

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anonymousewrites · 1 year

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A Good Day for Death (Book 1) Chapter Nine

Wednesday Addams x Reaper! Reader

Chapter Nine: A Good Day for Statues

Summary: Wednesday has a vision and causes mayhem, (Y/N) realizes they like Wednesday, and Wednesday's feelings start to crack the surface of her emotionless mask.

Wednesday watched as the girl, who she now knew was Goody Addams, was pushed around by the pilgrims and Joseph Crackstone. She followed them into the meeting house as Goody was shoved inside, and her eyes widened as she saw outcasts chained up around the meeting house. Goody was thrown to the floor.

“You are abominations in the Devil’s grip!” he declared. “I will not stop till I have expunged this New World of every outcast.” He sneered at them. “Godless creatures!” he cried, slamming the door of the meeting house closed as his men piled wood in front so no one could escape. “Set it ablaze!” ordered Crackstone from outside.

The captive outcasts cried out and crowded closer together as flames began to eat away at the building around them.

“Mother,” breathed Goody in horror. She hurried to try to pull at her mother’s chains.

“Goody, you have to go,” said her mother. “We’re chained to the floor. You must save yourself.”

“I shan’t leave without you,” said Goody.

“Go. Avenge us,” urged her mother. “Now run,” ordered Goody’s mother. “Run as fast as you can. You are our only hope, Goody.”

As Goody ran to a broken board in the side of the meeting house and escape as smoke rose in the meeting house. Wednesday ran after her, but as smoke flew across her sight, the vision changed.

She stood in the misty woods as Goody ran towards her until the moonlight. “He won’t stop until he’s killed us all!” she said urgently. She looked in horror over Wednesday’s shoulder. “He’s here.”

Wednesday’s eyes widened as she looked behind her and saw Crackstone approaching with murder in his eyes.

“There will be no escape for you.”

Wednesday gasped and fell backwards as she tried to run.

"Wednesday!" called a voice, and she whipped around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. "Wednesday, wake up!"

Crackstone was approaching so quickly now, and Wednesday braced herself for an attack. Before he hurt her, though, she felt a hand, warm and secure, holding her. "Wednesday!"

Wednesday gasped, and her eyes snapped open as she sat up to find herself faced with (Y/N)’s worried expression. With one hand, they were holding their jacket above their heads to keep the rain from getting them too much. With the other, they were tightly holding Wednesday's hand to ground her as she returned to reality.

“Wednesday? Are you alright? That vision was much longer than your previous ones, and you seemed unnerved, like it was a nightmare,” rambled (Y/N), concern lacing their voice. "I tried to wake you up, but you...you couldn't hear me."

“I saw her,” breathed Wednesday. “The girl from my visions. Her name is Goody Addams, and I believe she’s my ancestor from four hundred years ago.”

Normally, (Y/N) would react to that knowledge, but they just looked at Wednesday worriedly. “Wednesday, are you sure you’re—”

A twig snapped in the woods, and both teens fell silent. They exchanged looks and got up, creeping towards the gate of the meeting house. Wednesday peered out between the broken boards. She saw nothing.

“It must have been the old man from before,” she said. Still, she was not as steady as before due to her disturbing vision and the residual nerves. (Y/N)'s hand still rested in hers, but Wednesday didn't push it away. It felt...nice.

“Yeah…” agreed (Y/N) hesitantly. No sooner had they spoken, though, that a giant eye appeared between the boards. “Shit!” cried (Y/N), recognizing it as the monster. It growled before running off into the woods.

“Come on! Come on!” shouted Wednesday, running out of the ruins with (Y/N) hard on her heels. Their hands were no longer intertwined, but they were perfectly in step as they ran. They needed to figure out where the monster was going, where it was hiding, maybe even who it was if it was some sort of transformative creature.

As they ran, the rain beat down on them, blurring their vision and playing tricks on their eyes. They were soaked to the bone by the time they slowed and realized the monster had escape.

“Any tracks left will be washed away soon,” murmured (Y/N), shivering against the cold rain seeping into their skin.

“But there are a few left,” said Wednesday, crouching down to observed where the monster tracks became human footprints.

“Someone’s turning into the monster,” breathed (Y/N) in realization.

“What are you two doing?” questioned a new voice.

(Y/N) turned, and Wednesday stood to find Xavier, with an umbrella, looking at them in confusion.

There he goes, following Wednesday, thought (Y/N). I really don’t think she’s interested in anything other than her investigation, but good luck to him. “We were following the monster.”

“You saw it?” asked Xavier incredulously. “It’s here? Do you have a death wish or something?”

Wednesday looked at him appraisingly. “What are you doing here?”

“I overheard you saying you were checking out the old meeting house,” said Xavier. “It’s lucky I showed up when I did.”

“We did learn one thing,” said Wednesday. “The monster is human.”

(Y/N) nodded emphatically. “Yeah, the tracks turned from monster to human.”

“Show me,” said Xavier.

(Y/N) made a face. “The rain has washed them away by now.”

Xavier scoffed, clearly not believing either of them.

“We know what we saw,” said Wednesday sharply.

Xavier raised a hand in defense. “I’m keeping an open mind.”

“How big of you,” said Wednesday sarcastically as she began to walk back towards town with (Y/N).

Xavier kept paced with them, lifting the umbrella over all their heads. “I do think you might be right about Rowan.”

“You’d think more people would listen to be as a little child of the god of death,” commented (Y/N) under their breath.

Wednesday glanced at him suspiciously. “Why the sudden change in heart?”

“I texted him again today. I said maybe we could meet over spring break and go snowboarding like we did last year,” said Xavier. “This time he texted right back, said he wouldn’t be able to make it.”

“Let me guess, you never went snowboarding last year,” said (Y/N).

Xavier nodded grimly. “Part of me wanted to blame his recent weirdness. I didn’t want to think something bad had happened.”

“The coverup is always worse than the crime,” remarked Wednesday.

Xavier stopped, and to avoid getting wet, so did Wednesday and (Y/N). “Now I need you to be honest with me.” (He was looking more at Wednesday than (Y/N), but they expected that and didn’t mind) “Why’d you come out to the old meeting house in the first place?”

Wednesday spoke frankly, as usual. She didn’t quite care whether he believed her or not. “I was trying to learn more about Crackstone. Figure out how he’s connected to this.”

“Yeah, you were trying to use your psychic abilities, right?” said Xavier, smirking.

Wednesday stared at him distrustfully. “What makes you think I have any?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “You’re lucky most people haven’t realized. Quite a few people saw your attack at the Harvest Festival.” Wednesday had to admit that was a fair point.

“When did they start?” asked Xavier.

“About a year ago,” said Wednesday, starting to walk again.

“Do they always happen when you touch something?” questioned (Y/N).

Wednesday nodded. “It is like touching a live wire. I usually enjoy that sensation.”

“So it’s the whole ‘lack of control’ that freaks you out,” said (Y/N). Seeing Wednesday’s glare, they raised their hands defensively. “Hey, I won’t use it against you. Reaper’s honor.” Wednesday stopped glaring at them, a sign that she had accepted the promise (and would get (Y/N) back if they didn’t uphold it).

“My dad’s a psychic,” added Xavier. “Vincent Thorpe.”

Wednesday nodded. “My brother’s his Number One fan. Watched his Vegas special so many times I’m surprised it’s not imprinted on his eyeballs.”

“So I’ve lived with a self-described master. The first thing he’ll tell you is that visions can’t be trusted,” said Xavier.

(Y/N) nodded energetically. “Yeah, even Apollo’s visions can be vague and misconstrued because of it, and since he’s literally the god of prophecy, that says something. You just have to be careful about whether you’re getting ‘scenes’ or ‘symbols.’ That’s the key, apparently.”

“I saw Joseph Crackstone in front of me as clearly as I’m seeing you now,” said Wednesday. “He gathered all the outcasts in the meeting house and burned them alive.”

(Y/N) considered. “That does read as more scene than symbol.”

“Yeah, but it was four hundred years ago. It doesn’t have anything to do with now,” scoffed Xavier.

“But what if it does?” challenged Wednesday. “You saw Rowan’s drawing. Crackstone was standing in the quad.”

“You’re creating a story in your head and using visions to back it up,” said Xavier.

“I don’t think so. Nothing can be this coincidental,” said (Y/N). “I don’t think we can always take visions at face value, but there is something going on here.”

“They’re just telling her what she wants to see,” said Xavier, glaring at (Y/N).

“Are you mansplaining my power?” questioned Wednesday.

Xavier backstepped and chuckled. “All I’m saying is my dad, the expert, would warn you that psychic ability isn’t rooted in logic. It’s triggered by emotions. And let’s be honest, emotion isn’t your strong suit.”

Wednesday turned away from him. “I believe Rowan was right. Something bad is going to happen, and we need to stop it. Starting with that monster.” This time, she and (Y/N) walked off at a pace that left Xavier behind.

Dry and freshened up, Wednesday and (Y/N) slipped back into the Nevermore students waiting for the statue dedication to begin. Wednesday set up with her cello as Principal Weems instructed, but (Y/N) had a sneaking suspicion Wednesday had something up her sleeve. She seemed just a tad bit too happy to perform.

Oh, and (Y/N) had seen her talking to Thing, who had scampered off before anyone could see him. That probably meant something was happening.

Anything to escape this boredom, thought (Y/N).

“It is my honor to celebrate our town’s history and Jericho’s noble forefather, Joseph Crackstone,” began Mayor Walker.

Noble my ass. He literally burnt people like me alive.

“Now, he believed that with a happy heart and an open ear, there was nothing our town couldn’t achieve,” continued the mayor.

Like killing residents who they thought weren’t “normal.”

“So together as one, our community and our friends at Nevemore Academy, we’ve built a monument to celebrate his memory. Now, may the spirit of Joseph Crackstone be memorialized for eternity.” Mayor Walker smiled widely as the marching band and a too-peppy Wednesday began playing “Don’t Stop” by Fleetwood Mac. He pressed down on the button to start the fountain running, and the crowd cheered and clapped.

Boom!

Flames roared up from the statue as the fountain lit on fire. People screamed and fled, and as pandemonium ensued, Wednesday, wearing a devilish smirk, began to play Vivaldi’s “Winter,” a dramatic piece that accompanied chaos oh so well. (Y/N) was too focused on the performance to run and leaned on her elbow with a smile as they watched Wednesday enjoy herself.

Weird, it felt kind of peaceful like that, even if there was chaos. Oh, well. (Y/N) had never been normal.

“That was a disaster!” cried Weems, glaring at Wednesday. “The mayor is furious! I’ve lost count of the angry phone calls, emails, and people in the town, alumni, and parents! They want answers and so do I!”

Wednesday was unfazed. “I would lead the inquisition, but I left my thumbscrews and rack at home.”

“Miss Addams…” said Weems dangerously. “You’re already on thin ice. Wafer-thin ice.”

“I swear on my late scorpion’s soul, my hands are clean,” said Wednesday. This was true, Thing had handled it all. She had just had the idea.

Weems narrowed her eyes. “I may not have hard evidence, but I see you. You’re a trouble magnet.”

Wednesday stood from her chair. “If trouble means standing up to lies, decades of discrimination, centuries of treating outcasts like second-class citizens or worse…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jericho. Why does this town even have an Outreach Day? Don’t you know its real history with outcasts? The actual story of Joseph Crackstone?” questioned Wednesday.

Weems took a deep breath. “I do. To an extent.”

“Then why be complicit in its coverup?” asked Wednesday sharply. “Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it.”

“That’s where you and I differ,” said Weems. “Where you see doom, I see opportunity. Maybe this is a chance to rewrite the wrongs, to start a new chapter in the normie-outcast relations.”

“Nothing has changed since Crackstone. They still hate us,” pointed out Wednesday. “Only now they sugarcoat it with platitudes and smiles. If you’re unwilling to fight for the truth—”

Weems took a step towards Wednesday. “You don’t think I want the truth? Of course I do. But the world isn’t always black and white. There are shades of grey.”

“Maybe for you. But it’s either they write our story or we do,” said Wednesday. “You can’t have it both ways.”

“You’re exhausting,” said Weems, her lip curling in disgust. “At every step, you defy me and get into trouble. And the worst part is that you drag others into your nonsense! (Y/N) (L/N) was a perfectly good student until you came along, and now they’re gallivanting around causing trouble with you!”

“You mean that (Y/N) kept to themself because you don’t know how to deal with them being a reaper,” retorted Wednesday.

“And you think that by making them into an outcast among outcasts like yourself is the solution?” questioned Weems.

“It’s better than trying to ignore what they are,” said Wednesday sharply.

Weems sucked in a breath to control herself. “I’ve had enough of you. Goodnight, Miss Addams.”

(Y/N) sighed and lay their journal to the side. They were trying to work through their emotions through poetry, but finally, they had to face the facts.

They liked Wednesday.

It was a small crush, but it was there. (Y/N) wished it wasn’t true, but alas, it was. They knew Wednesday didn’t like people and barely tolerated them. They just couldn’t help it. Wednesday was intelligent, strong, capable, and pretty. More importantly, however, Wednesday had kind moments, like helping Eugene, and she was one of the only people to treat (Y/N) like a regular person instead of someone who needed to be avoided just because of their abilities. True, Wednesday version of treating someone normally was harsh at times, but to (Y/N), that was still nice.

They had a crush on her.

(Y/N) groaned and buried their head in their hands. I’m screwed.

Wednesday finished her hour of novel writing and put the pages away carefully. She had gotten a little less work done than usual since she was a tad distracted by some of Professor Weems’s words.

Was she causing trouble for (Y/N)?

She frowned and closed the drawer of her rougher than usual. Why should she care? (Y/N) was the one bothering her and tagging along. True, because they were involved in Rowan’s mother’s vision as well, but they were actively involving themselves. So it wasn’t Wednesday’s fault. If anything, she agreed with Weems that (Y/N) shouldn’t be hanging around.

Well…that was a slight lie.

Wednesday didn’t think (Y/N) should leave. She found them…tolerable. They weren’t terrible, and they didn’t seem to mind her personality. They didn’t ask her to change anything about herself just to get along with her. The poem they had made was even slightly...enjoyable.

Wednesday didn’t mind them sticking around. In fact, she preferred their company over others’. She grimaced. She didn’t enjoy the strangeness of the feelings she had. They were to vulnerable, too distant from the cold aloofness she had maintained so far.

But they were there. And they weren’t going away.

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