Wenclair oneshots

Are You Going to Claim Your Prize?

Summary:
The one where the furs make a stupid bet. Whoever can get Wednesday to say yes to a date gets 100 bucks. Enid, for obvious reasons, doesn't like it one bit.

TW: homophobia/ homophobic slurs⚠️

Wednesday didn't know how she got dragged to this party. Well, she did know, but she wasn't ready to admit it just yet. It might've had something to do with a bit of begging from a certain blonde-haired werewolf.

It happened to be one of the last parties they would have at the academy, and Wednesday figured that it wouldn't hurt to watch drunken idiots make a fool of themselves one last time.

She was leaning against a tree, looking completely uninterested, while waiting for some highly anticipated entertainment. There was a red solo cup in her hand filled with some mysterious red liquid that was supposedly "punch." Enid's naïveté claimed it was just fruit punch, but Wednesday could taste the heavy amount of alcohol mixed inside.

But considering that the water bottles definitely didn't have water in them, Wednesday opted to drink whatever this was to quench her thirst.

Enid had left with Yoko to play something she referred to as "beer pong," promising Wednesday she would only play a few rounds. The goth had refused to partake in the pointless game, leaving her to her brooding thoughts.

If you wanted to drink, why did you need to throw balls in a cup? Just drink.

Typically, Wednesday didn't drink—except for the occasional red wine her father would offer her on special occasions—but tonight was peculiar.

Wednesday enjoyed weird. She was weird herself. Beyond weird, according to others. But tonight, it was like something had shifted in the atmosphere.

Some werewolves were acting stranger than normal—even Enid. Enid was always a strange girl to Wednesday, but this was a different kind of strange, even for her. Wednesday wasn't sure if it was because the full moon was in a few days, or maybe it was just the fact that everyone was drunk—except for her and Eugene.

Luckily, Wednesday wasn't a lightweight and could handle alcohol with ease, just like the many poisons she had grown immune to. Being raised in a household where they added cyanide to their espressos every morning certainly helped.

So Wednesday was very aware of the many lingering eyes on her throughout the party. And she didn't fail to notice that the people who were eyeing her were all furs...

Lately—meaning this past week—Enid had been acting a bit more protective over Wednesday, and she didn't understand why. The Addams girl could always hold her own, and Enid knew that. Enid usually admired that.

Enid owned a gossip blog... maybe she knew something that the shorter girl didn't. But even though Xavier gifted her a phone, Wednesday barely touched it. Currently, it was collecting dust on top of the shelf in her closet. Wednesday was pretty sure Thing used the device more than she did.

Besides, the thought of using technology to find out more information about this recent weird behavior of the furs put a bitter taste in Wednesday's mouth. She was in no desire to entertain misogynistic werewolves and their fragile egos—either online or in person.

One female werewolf, on the other hand...

No. No. Definitely not going there.

She could not be thinking about her needless feelings while drinking an alcoholic punch against a tree at five to twelve. She really should just leave, shouldn't she?

"Heyyy, Wendy!" a drunken male voice slurred, and Wednesday wanted to vomit at the nickname the gorgon gave her.

"Wends" was the only shortened version of her name she could tolerate, but that was only if it came out of Enid's pretty mouth. No one else's. Especially not his.