—Daisy Ridley For British GQ

Hello, I hope you and your family are well. Can you please help me recycle the post on my account? 🌺 And help rescue my family from the war in Gaza? 🙏 Thank you.

https://gofund.me/71c9635a

Hello everyone! Please try to donate as much as you can to this man and his family, as well as multiple families in Palestine. Never stay silent about this. It's still happening.

𝐂𝐎𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐃 ;; wednesday addams

Pairing ;; Wednesday Addams x fem!Reader

Summary: Wednesday is the most affectionate when it's time to sleep, much to your dismay.

Warnings: one of Wednesday's death threats.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Maybe a bit OOC but I love that headcannon that Wednesday shows a bit of her soft side whenever she's sleepy, though to very certain people. Enjoy :)

You’ve been pestering Wednesday a healthy amount. Even avoiding your own friends to spend time with her, though, you seemed to have regretted that decision, just a little bit. 

In the bed of your girlfriend’s, you laid on your wing to the side, listening to the loud tune of Pathetique outside, as Enid chats with Ajax through the phone. The wing in which you laid on stayed motionless, asleep, that when you reached your hand to feel it, it didn’t feel like your own body, but instead someone else's'. 

Wednesday is doing her nightly cello playing, as she did when she first got here. You admired her passion, consistency, and dedication to her schedule. You admired her writing. You admired her creativity. You admired everything about her, flaws and all. You admired her. 

“You just don’t know how to show it,” Enid says loudly, probably referring to you more than she refers to Ajax. It made you grimace, seeing as your friend looked out for your emotions that weren’t shown much on display. “But, you know, I’ll notice anyway.” She continued. The feathers on top of your head, that certainly will get you a scolding from Mrs. Davidson, the second normie teacher to teach in Nevermore after the accident with Lauren Gates, felt as if they had melted and left two side-eyeing holes. 

“He doesn’t even know you notice.” You looked up, adjusting your position on Wednesday’s bed. It had been a couple of months ever since you were back in Nevermore. Ophelia Hall’s stayed the same, the sense of nostalgia hit your vision, making your wings flutter in response. 

Enid stood up from her bed, grabbing her pink snood from the end of her bed. Her hair, unlike before, was much longer now, reaching past her shoulders. Blue and pink are still evident at the ends of it. Her face is more developed yet keeping the innocent Enid Sinclair charm (as Eugene would call it). 

“I’m going to Ajax’s dorm,” She secured her phone in her pocket, rummaging through her closet as she pulled out a blue snood. You couldn’t protest with what she said, since the werewolf always deserts you every time, she pries you about something. She left a bunch of clothes on her bed, making it look like gnomes vomited rainbows. “Talk to her,” Enid motioned her head to the window, referring to Wednesday. “And call me when you both are done making out.” 

You stood up from your position swiftly, almost making you black out. “You mean making up!” You half-yelled, vision still blurred though enough to see that Enid has gone with the door closed. 

As if on cue, Wednesday walked through the spider-like glass, a squeak of noise echoing in the dorms. Her hair still tightly kept in her signature braids, one on each side, both equally parted. Her small, scattered, and cute freckles were much, much visible – probably due to the lack of makeup she wore today. 

Speaking of wearing, the clothes she wore are always black. This time she wore a comfortable black tee shirt (she learned her lesson to never wear white shirts over black bras years ago, not that she was going to wear the color white again) and parachute-like pajama, black pants. “Stare at me like that again and I’ll poke your eyes out.” She threatened, papers held in her hand, though from your perspective, they were weapons. 

“Sorry… you’re just-” You stopped mid-sentence, a grimace forming in your lips, a small one so as to not drift the conversation apart quickly. “I haven’t been this near you in a while.” 

Wednesday’s eyes bore into yours. “I’m 2 meters apart from you.” She didn’t waste any time walking closer, not to you though. She placed her musical sheets in a category of folders, each one of them either being black or transparent. 

“Wednesday,” You called, not to test her emotions or lack of eye contact, to simply call your girlfriend. “You say you’re allergic to colors… how does that work?” You asked cautiously, as she dipped down the bed next to you. Your wings fluttered, wrapping around her side subconsciously. She didn’t pull back, leaning in against the soft feathers. 

Wednesday began undoing her braid. “I’m not allergic to it.” She answered in a soft tone, yawning under her hands right after. “Just have a different reaction to it than everybody else.” She explained, she stood up to place the hair tie on her desk. She dipped back down her bed, pushing your wing aside carefully as you stood up. She laid on her side, not staring at you. 

You didn’t want to pester her any further, although you remembered Enid’s words; talk to her.

In response to her answer, you questioned. The thick air was choking back your questions. At the simplest and shortest eye contact from Wednesday, you wanted to continue. “Why?” was all you could ask, short and curios were your tone. Interested filled your smile.

“Don’t,” She started, gazing down her lap. “Smile like that.” Wednesday stood up from her lying position, crossing her legs. Her eyes locked down her pants, minding their own business. 

Wednesday Addams, nothing like her sweet mother from what you’ve witnessed during vacation, she wasn’t exactly like her father too. She is Wednesday. She did not inherit after her parents’, but, as her own personality. The girl who was prophesied to kill an entire school, the girl who changed that said prophecy. 

She is brilliant. And you remembered yourself, following after Lauren Gates through the cave. You remember yourself freezing when she was stabbed, not knowing exactly what to do. And a ghost, much like Wednesday herself, healed her every wound. Seeping in through her. 

You could still feel Goody Addams in Wednesday Addams. You felt the stronger push and pull through her heart. And it felt even more promising as you are talking to her right now. Wednesday’s energy is strong and complex. Right now, it’s at ease. And it was evident in her body language, shoulders relaxed, legs crossed with one another. 

If it didn’t seem like she’s relaxed. Her heavy eyelids were about to shut though she kept it awake, certainly spoke for themselves. “You should sleep,” You whispered, pulling yourself up from the bed, sighing. You could talk to her tomorrow. And you could call Enid tomorrow, as well. If she isn’t in the detention office already. 

“Must you go?” Wednesday pulled you lightly from the wrist, showing the frailty in her tone. Sleep caught on with her looks now. 

You shook your head, sitting down on the bed, facing her this time. “I can stay…” Your voice trailed, then, you remembered you were talking to an Addams. “If you want me to.” 

Wednesday looked conflicted but gave a sharp nod. Her eyes drifted to your wings, leaning in before giving them a light touch. “It’s so soft.” She whispered; voice sleepy. Her body weight leaned in against you. “Why is it so soft?” 

You laid down to your side, tapping on your wings for room. Wednesday stared down at you, before she laid down. “They’re called down feathers, y’know like the clouds.” You answered, softly kissing her hair, the bridge your nose tickled. 

Your hands were wrapped around her. She kissed your palms lightly. “Sleep.” She commanded and you could not help but oblige. Your wings wrapped around your body and Wednesday's, like a blanket. 

The personal warmth cuddled around the room. Before closing off into your dreams, Thing sat on the table. “G’night, bud.” You say, smiling as he formed a small heart with his fingers.

The next day, Enid was in the detention office, smiling as you passed by.

I'm going to write AU fics that don't include the reader! I hope everyone is okay, I will still write reader-insert bc it's fun, HOWEVER, AU fics are just in my mind rn so !!! there's that!!

These aren't the things children should watch or experience.

you're laughing. The umbrella academy's final season destroyed every character's personal growth and semi-healed traumas, left huge plot-holes, completely abandoned some of it's most beloved side characters that were crucial in previous seasons and you're laugh-oh. You're crying. My bad. Go ahead. Let it out. Understandable.

Luke's just not a farmer - he has too much of his father in him.

Extract from Refaat Alareer's course on English poetry in 2019:

"Of course we always fall into this trap of saying, 'she [Fadwa Tuqan] was arrested for just writing poetry!' We do this a lot, even us believers in literature. [We say] 'Why would Israel arrest somebody or put someone under house arrest, she only wrote a poem?' So we contradict ourselves sometimes; we believe in the power of literature changing lives, as a means of resistance, as a means of fighting back, and then at the end of the day, we say 'She just wrote a poem!' We shouldn't be saying that. Moshe Dayan, an Israeli general, said that 'The poems of Fadwa Tuqan are like facing 20 enemy fighters.' Wow. She didn't throw stones, she didn't shoot at the invading Israeli jeeps, she just wrote poetry. And I'm falling for that again—I said she just wrote poetry.

And the same thing happened to Palestinian poet Dareen Tatour. She wrote poetry, celebrating Palestinians' struggle, encouraging Palestinians to resist, not to give up, to fight back— She was put under house arrest, she was put into prison for years. And therefore, I end here, with a very significant point: Don't forget that Palestine was first and foremost occupied in Zionist literature and Zionist poetry.

When the Zionists thought of going back to Palestine, it wasn't like 'Oh, let's go to Palestine.' It took them years, over 50 years of thinking, of planning, politics, money and everything else. But literature played one of the most crucial roles here.

Palestine in Zionist Jewish literature was presented to Jewish people around the world... [as] Palestine is a land without a people for a people without a land. Palestine flows with milk and honey. There is no one there—so let's go. [but] there were people—there have always been people in Palestine. But this is an example of how poetry can be a very significant part of life." [13:05-14:40]

credits to @/protosemite on X for the transcription.

Prof Refaat Alareer was killed by an israeli airstrike that targeted his house 2 days ago.

GREEN

i am green green green down to my breath and blood and bones.

green with envy for all the beautiful things in the world that i cannot hold in my hands or press against my lips or swallow down whole.

green with sick all festering hurts i don't know how to heal and spreading poison i don't know the antidote for and hand-me-down aches i don't know the names of.

green with greed, the yawning void deep in my belly that wants and wants and wants and wants and wants from the day i was born screaming with want.

green with permission: yes please, come here, do as you please. i never did learn how to say no and mean it.

green like plants, like spring growth and summer leaves like basil and mint on kitchen counter tops like haworthia and pothos and monstera.

i am green green green down to my breath and blood and bones—

but maybe someday i will learn to hold the whole rainbow in my body.

SHMI SKYWALKER - THE LIVING FORCE