Title: just to feel something
Fandom: adult wednesday addams (webseries)
Rating: teen
Length: ~1200 words
Author notes: +free space: keeping score for the bingo here, ladiesbingo, & a new fandom with this v quick/delightful series


Mackenzie’s thumb hovers over the post button, frowning at her morning selfie. It’s just as cute as her regular selfies, even cuter than her mirror reflection, her eyelashes look perfect at this angle and her green juice is a healthy pop of color. But that stupid goth girl’s voice echoes in her head, how she calmly laid out her entire life like she was reading a boring history book. And Mackenzie doesn’t do boring.

She deletes the pic, taking a photo of the blue sky instead. This kind of morning is better for an inspirational quote anyways. Better to plan revenge against that uppity creep who ruined an entire outfit and plan. Frank obviously isn’t going to be helping her at all, not like he would have if she just could have seen him in person that day, so little miss I’ve-never-heard-of-color deserves an extra side of vengeance.

The question is what. And she imagines Frank yelling at her, forcing her to buy a hundred pizzas, and poor little Wednesday getting fired. Then evicted from her apartment, unable to pay her bills, then living on the streets, and Mackenzie would pass by the wretch, talking with her friends and laughing and perhaps throw a few pennies at her face.

Mackenzie shakes herself out of it, that got a bit dark there. She sips her green juice, clearly hasn’t had enough sugar yet this morning. If anything it makes her madder, remembering how useless her alleged friends had been in the whole debacle. Whatever, her minions know she’s mad at them- she hasn’t texted them or tagged them in anything since that day.

She calls Pizza Hut.

.

Mackenzie sits in her car, smoking her e-cig, in the parking lot across the road. She has a pair of binoculars trained on the office door, and she snickers as the pizza boy arrives. A hundred hawaiian pizzas are with him, stacked on a dolly, and she cackles.

It’s a pity she can’t be closer to hear the screams, or better yet in the building to watch it go down. But Mackenzie won’t be stuck with a huge bill, or stuck with disgusting pizza covered in pineapple. It takes three songs before someone’s leaving, her grip tight on the binoculars.

The delivery boy is crying, and oh, she hadn’t thought about the effects of inflicting that day of the week on minimum wage workers, but-

There’s a sharp crack as the binoculars snap and she tosses them in the passenger seat. Delivery boy failed, cart of pizzas exiting the building behind him.

Dammit.

.

Over the next few weeks, Mackenzie learns how very undependable people are. If writing wasn’t so boring, or ghost writers so expensive, it would make for a great chapter on self-reliance. Every single prank she attempts from a distance with another person involved, fails.

A fake intern is supposed to go in for one day and completely cover Wednesday’s desk with neon post-it notes. Instead, the traitor becomes a real intern. She hires three of the roughest bikers she can find to move the brat’s desk into the bathroom, and the bikers end up running out of building. They even refund her money, adamantly declaring it can’t be done. A basket of caramel covered onions is delivered to her, and Mackenzie witnesses her enjoying them while walking her mangy dogs. (That apparently aren’t even hers, so there’s no point in pranking them- not that Mackenzie would ever get close enough to those flea covered mongrels.) She even tries sending Mormons to her ‘dear heathen friend she’s so worried about’, but they leave her apartment building looking confused.

The point is obviously she’s going to have to get revenge herself. Which is fine. Whatever. Her two traitorous minions haven’t shown up begging to get back in her life, so she’s been getting used to it. Mani-pedis for one, shopping without cheerleaders, movie hopping individually, being hit on alone- which is so skeezy. She can’t even go to bars anymore.

She knows where Wednesday lives, knows about her two roommates- one of which is a constantly stoned dumbass that leaves the door unlocked and takes showers for hours. And even better, there’s a nearby fish market. Mackenzie gets five of the most repulsive fish she’s ever seen- all too old to sell, but when she speaks earnestly about organic compound for her garden, the fishmonger gives her them for free. Finally, things are going her way.

It’s almost too easy to get into the goth girl’s room, and there’s no question that it’s hers- a creepy casket where a bed should be. She stashes four of the fish all around the room, one in the casket itself, underneath her thin pillow.

Pleased, Mackenzie leaves the apartment, heading back to her place. She did it. She accomplished her revenge on that blood spilling brat. Her day feels horribly empty, and she ends up in front of her laptop. Maybe she’ll try writing the book again, maybe it’ll go really well and she’ll have tons of money and fame and friends again. Maybe…

.

Mackenzie wakes up in the middle of the night, and lets out a scream.

Wednesday is in her room, standing beside her bed.

“Yes this bright pink and yellow wallpaper is rather scream-worthy, is that why you chose it?”

She hits a light, and Wednesday doesn’t fade away- is actually in her room. “What the fuck are you doing here at this hour?”

Wednesday sits on her bed, patting her arm, and Mackenzie feels trapped almost, in a twisted parody. “I do apologize dear, I didn’t realize you were courting me until you left me that delightful meal. How did you know rotting salmon is my favorite? My grandmama simply makes the best stew.”

“I’m not- it’s revenge! I got you back!”

Wednesday cocks her head to the side, “They do say revenge is like digging two graves, one for yourself and one for your intended. Very romantic.”

Mackenzie rubs her eyes, is barely convinced this is real. “I told you this wasn’t over.”

The girl smiles prettily, “You have such a lovely depth for fury, not just anger. You’re not a shallow beauty like I assumed.”

And something must be very wrong with her, because a little bit of herself is happy, positively preens at the praise. It must be because she’s been focused on the girl for so long, she simply needs to get her out of her system. Like a kink almost. A rather specific kink for blank faced girls with long dark braids and soft looking lips and slim fingers. (Things that seem more telling she noticed at all now that the girl is in her bed.)

Mackenzie leans in to kiss her, just one night for some closure or whatever and maybe a few orgasms. One night, and things will go back to normal.

(They do not. But Mackenzie becomes happy, and that’s far better than what she hoped for.)