All For Fun | Jenna Ortega Imagines

The Raven's Eye II (w.a)

You were carried into the apartment building, and taken to an apartment on the first floor. Uncle Fester's grin was at you while Lurch placed you on a soapbox in the middle of yet another living room. Lurch groaned, clasping his hands around your shoulders as if he was trying to secure you in place.

"I'm not going anywhere." You told him. Lurch groaned, releasing you.

Uncle Fester chuckled, "Cousin Itt will be with you shortly." He and Lurch left the apartment.

"Who?" Your eyes wandered the living room for the person in question; nobody was there, so you assumed Cousin Itt was somewhere in the unit.

Taking in the space... There were expensive fabrics everywhere; velvet, linen, silk to name a few — all in a plethora of colors. The living room was a fashion center; there were busts with incomplete pieces, stands of jewelry and accessories sprinkled throughout with a beautifully lit vanity. Nothing was out of the ordinary except the large wig next to the vanity. It was the size of a person; excessive with layers of evenly cut, dark brown hair. You assumed the wearer must've liked really long hair until you saw a bowler hat and shades sitting in the hair. You squinted, trying to make sense of the accessories accompanying the anomaly, you looked away, "Odd."

A voice rasped the room,"You're odd."

There were footsteps, and your eyes shot up, now face to face with the long hair; it's round shades bore into your soul.

"You're Itt?" You bit your lip, blinking with anticipation, also praying it wasn't the hair talking to you.

The blob of hair sassed, "It's Cousin Itt."

You leaned away from the hair, stunned, "It's a talking wig —"

"Wig?!"

You blinked frantically, flabbergasted, going over his interruption, "It's a talking wig."

Cousin Itt gasped, remarking, "I am not a wig! I am Cousin Itt, and my pronouns are he/him, not 'it'!"

You stared at the hairball, tracing his movement with your eyes. Cousin Itt circled you while you stood on the soapbox, he ranted, "You call me odd then make assumptions on my identity. Wow, Wednesday sure knows how to pick the worst. First, a bug-eyed serial monster, then an obsessed talentless nepo-baby and now a gender-assuming trichophobic."

"Whoa," you furrowed your brows, "First off, I'm not gender-assuming — you're literally hair. There's no way for me to tell."

Cousin Itt stared at you and you went on, "Secondly, I'm not afraid of hair."

Cousin Itt seethed, extending gloved hands from beneath the hair, "Oh but you will be if you ever call me a wig or 'it' again."

"Again, I didn't know."  You crossed your arms, "However, I apologize for assuming your gender and calling you a wig."

"Thank you, maybe you're not the worst." Cousin Itt replied, going to a bedroom. A few seconds passed and he returned from the bedroom, handing you a garment bag.

"What is this?" You unzipped the bag, peeking inside as Cousin Itt wandered over to his jewelry stand collecting a multitude of pieces.

"Your suit and some jewelry, now get ready." He placed the pile of pieces in your palm and stood there. You stepped around him only for him to block your path, you asked, "What? I'm going to the bathroom."

"Get dressed here, you have to put on everything."

"Okay..." You cleared your throat, looking around a bit, you asked, "Are you going to turn around?"

"I'm not looking."

You furrowed your brows and the blob of hair's shades sunk into the strands, and your eyes widened.