Wenclair oneshots

Hopeless Woemantics

"Boys. Clothes. Food." Enid counters.

"We aren't even that cruel to prisoners of war." The woeful girl caustically responds.

"Wednesday!" The bubbly werewolf whines. "Just...try to keep an open mind, ok?"

If the closed off goth had any sense left, she'd shut all of this down and have herself an evening alone in a cemetery somewhere. Yet, again, there's apparently some part of her twisted brain that just can not compute saying no to Enid Sinclair, and so she again folds in spite of herself.

"Fine." Wednesday sighs.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Enid beams. "Ok, so, you pick 'truth' and I'll show you how it's done."

"Sounds like a challenge." Wednesday raises an eyebrow. "But alright...truth."

Enid gives a nice dramatic pause then flashes a mischievous smirk. "Do you have feelings for anyone at Nevermore?"

"Enid," Wednesday frowns. "You should know more than anyone that I don't do feelings. They're a waste of time."

"So, you're not crushing on aaannyyyoonee?" Enid incredulously inquires.

Wednesday feels her face flush, and given how pale she already is, that is really saying something. But hearing this peppy pain-in-the-neck talk about 'feelings' and 'crushes' was somehow a surefire way to make Wednesday feel jittery—almost nervous even—though she isn't quite sure why.

Doing her best to keep her composure, Wednesday sorrowfully admits, "It's just...the last time I allowed myself to fall for anyone, they turned out to be pure evil disguised as a barista."

"I get it." Enid softly sympathizes before slightly pushing back. "But that was, like, a total freak thing and—OH HOLD ON! DANCE BREAK!"

"If you wanna run away with me, I know a galaxy And I can take you for a ride"

Enid goes ballistic as 'Levitating' graces her Spotify queue, blasting over her bluetooth speaker and all throughout the room. With her stuffed unicorn in hand, Enid twirls around like an absolute fool—her fool, Wednesday thinks with a grin of all things. Hell, the gothic teen can almost feel herself wanting to...ew...laugh WITH Enid, even as her ears bleed.

However, the dark-souled detective has little time to process or analyze those instinctive reactions before Enid's syrupy sweet voice cuts through, "Your turn, Wednesday."

"O-Oh." Wednesday clears her throat, dropping back to reality. "Truth or dare?"

Enid overdramatically strokes her chin and smolders while thinking it over, and then emphatically answers, "Dare."

"Ok." Wednesday starts. "I dare you to turn that music off."

"Wednesdayyyyy." Enid groans.

"Yes?" The misery-addled teen replies without a beat.

"That's like the opposite of a fun thing." The perky blonde bemoans.

"Really?" Wednesday's lips curled down. "Because it makes things so much more fun for me."

Enid sighs and obliges, sending Dua Lipa a wistful goodbye as she presses pause on her screen.

"Happy?" Enid petulantly grumbles.

"As an organ harvester at a transplant center." Wednesday simpers back.

"My turn." Enid ignores that and proudly declares. "Truth or dare?"

Given how uncomfortable 'truth' had made her feel last time, Wednesday apprehensively selects, "Dare."

Worryingly, Enid's eyes light up like a Christmas tree, as she really says with her whole chest, "Do a back handspring!"