Wenclair oneshots

Addams and Eve

Oh my god y'all i am literally dying rn- i am so fuckin sick. yep my bitchass has the worst fever of his life on christmas, ain't that amazing 😍

Kind of a christmas special ig?

Summary:
The messy journey to Wenclair's first kiss, Enid hangs up a mistletoe in her and Wednesday's room.

Nov. 3rd

Wednesday Addams had, for the first time in what felt like eternity, achieved a moment of total solitude. Thing was out with Fester, both of them on a double date with a Brazilian hand model, and Enid Sinclair, her dearest annoying gir...er...they hadn't really put a label on it yet, was for some reason M.I.A. Wednesday, as much as she didn't want to admit it, half considered delivering a text message to inquire into her whereabouts, but the last crime she wanted to be accused of was codependency.

Unfortunately, not helping her case was the fact that she somehow couldn't concoct a way to pass the time all by herself. She could work on her novel, but what was the fun in clacking away at the keys of her typewriter without having Enid there to get bugged by it? Or she could write some poetry based on the day's obituaries, but what good would that be when Enid wasn't beside her, cherry picking the details she found most fascinating?

"Awwwhh, they were a baker? Aaaand now I seriously want a cupcake."

Oh God! Wednesday used to never feel alive (well, as alive as she could feel) until she was alone. Now she couldn't even function when left to her own devices. What had happened to her?!

Rhetorical question of course because the answer was clear enough for even Oedipus to see. Enid. Enid had happened. And like a strong yet endearing rash, Wednesday couldn't get rid of her but wasn't sure she wanted to, particularly if it would lead to unproductive evenings such as this one. Ugh, how infuriatingly ironic that she was the one staring at the door like a puppy waiting for her master.

Then, in the ultimate case of 'be careful what you wish for', said door slowly creaked open, and a much less comforting sound followed. Church-like chimes rang out in their room, but not to produce the soothing somber sounds heard at a funeral service. No, the noise was far more... saccharine. Whimsical, even. And yet, that sickeningly upbeat ringing was infinitely preferable to what followed.

"IIIIII don't want a lot for Christmas."

Wednesday had been wrong. There was such a thing as hell, and right now, she was in the seventh circle of it.

"There is just one thing I need."

In sashayed Enid, looking like she had been infested by a swarm of gay fireflies, a bundle of multicolored festive lights wrapped around her oversized Elf sweater clad body.

"And I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree."

Enid was humming along, because of course she was, wrapping tinsel and garland around her bed posts with a borderline cheshire smile plastered on her face.

"I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know."

And now Enid went and made this personal, no longer wrapping gold and silver rings around her bed and instead wrapping her arms around Wednesday's shoulders. As unthinkable as it once was, Wednesday actually appreciated Enid's touch on occasion, but now? Now was not one of those times.

"Make my wish come true."

"Not if your wish requires more singing," Wednesday bitterly thought.

"All I want for Christmas is...yoooouuuuu!!!!"

Enid proudly, though tone deafly, howled along with that last note before taking a hold of Wednesday's pigtails then moving them up and down to the ensuing rhythm, which was when a far too patient Wednesday had enough, slapping Enid's hands down and scooting away from the overly energetic lycanthrope altogether.