Chapter Text
If there was one thing Wednesday Addams would never do, it would be going on a “girls trip” for a “fashion emergency.” Or, at least, that’s how Enid posed the idea and phrased her subsequent pleas. Personally, Wednesday would refer to such as mindless, unnecessary torture. And not the good kind. Especially when one considers all connected implications; riding a crowded shuttle from Nevermore to Jericho, being surrounded by color for an unforeseeable amount of time, and listening to Enid’s chatter throughout the entire ordeal.
And yet, here she was. Standing in a boutique bursting at the seems with color; there is absolutely nowhere she can look without burning her retinas. As such, she dons her monochromatic sunglasses and finds herself in laughable contrast to her surroundings.
At least Enid is otherwise entertained.
They have been occupying the same corner for exactly 47 minutes and 26 seconds. 27. 28. By the time Enid has finally finished gushing over the options with the employee, Wednesday is on the cusp of committing a war crime. With the knowledge that this is Enid’s favorite clothing store that she practically frequents weekly, she pities employees and customers alike who have borne witness to the werewolf’s shopping. And she has yet to even try anything on.
”I found so many different outfits that I love! Wait here while I change?”
Though she poses it as a question, Enid is already rushing into a stall before Wednesday can even form a response. It would be impressive if it were not for the fact that it grated on her nerves profusely. She made a mental note to never agree to so much as a visit to Jericho with Enid again, puppy-eyes be damned. Luckily, the floor outside the changing rooms is exclusively checkered in black and white, so Wednesday is able to sit down and wait. Her patience is already wearing thin by the time Enid emerges in the first outfit. Which is likely one of several combinations.
“So, what do you think?” Though her voice would initially be read as unbridled enthusiasm, there is an underlying vulnerability within it. When Wednesday finally looks up, her throat runs dry. Because even in color, Enid looks devastating. No matter how much she bites the inside of her cheek, Wednesday cannot completely cover her reaction. Her heart skips a beat, and she’s willing to bet that Enid hears it. The burgundy pantsuit compliments her skin tone and contrasts the intense blue of her eyes. Before Wednesday can put her foot in her mouth by trying to respond, the employee makes a return and gives an appreciative whistle.
“Whoever you’re trying to impress with that little number, trust me darling, you will succeed.” She punctuates it with a wink, but the comment is harmless. Anyone with eyes would enjoy the view.
“Or send them into cardiac arrest and a pathetic early death.” Wednesday mumbles it under her breath and returns her eyes to the floor. Enid’s eyes snap to look at her, and she can feel their burning intensity. It might just be the closest Wednesday has ever come to giving anyone a compliment. After that, she refuses to actually look at any of the outfits in their entirety. She counts the minutes until they can catch the next shuttle, desperate to escape.
Her nerves are fraying by the time Enid is done purchasing the clothes. But, of course, Sinclair just has to spot another article that interests her. To Wednesday’s horror, it is in fact an entire end-cap of very, very colorful items. Rainbow socks, orange and pink keychains, yellow and purple shoelaces. It is all so offensive to her eyes that she mindlessly stumbles backwards. It feels like her eyes are on fire.
Not that Enid notices, of course. “Oh, Wednesday! What do you think about these socks? We could get matching ones! How cool would that be?”
Without much thought, Wednesday practically snarls in response. “Never would I dare wear, nor so much as touch, such a nauseating, emesis inducing item. Who would dare to make such an offensive collection?”
She is met with a stunned silence, and Enid drops the socks back onto the shelf without recognizing it.
Was Wednesday Addams homophobic?
It contrasted everything Enid had expected. Sure, she knew that Wednesday did not like color. But she would never have imagined that she was not accepting, especially considering her eccentricities. Hell, Enid was convinced that she was queer, particularly on the aroace spectrum. But homophobic?
Before she could ask for clarification, Wednesday was already out the door and glaring back through the window for Enid to catch up. Any opportunity for her to return to the subject was thwarted by Eugene’s sudden appearance. For the rest of the trip back to Nevermore, she was not able to get a word in. She could only sit in disbelief and try to justify why else Wednesday would lash out about socks of all things.
Something Enid Sinclair loved beyond reason was music, especially playing loudly from the speakers in her dorm room. However, ever since the incident when Wednesday transferred to their school Enid had started using her headphones instead. Until today. Wednesday had not yet returned from beekeeping club, and she could not deny the urge to blare her music.
Specifically because one of her favorite artists had released a new song.
Scrolling through her blog and singing along, she mistakingly lost track of time. Her heart, and singing, froze at the sound of the door slamming open. Wednesday stormed in with a particularly lethal glare and pierced Enid through with her eyes. From this alone, she knew that she was well and truly dead. And of course it was this moment that her music refused to stop playing no matter how many times she shakily hit pause.
You look so pretty and I love this view
We fell in love in October
That’s why I love fall
Looking at the stars
Admiring from afar
Enid was royally screwed. They maintained eye contact for an extended period of time, Enid horrified and Wednesday practically vibrating in place with anger. By the time the fear slowly ebbed until she could hear the music again. She stopped trying to pause it, instead curious to see how her roommate would react to the lyrics. If she hadn’t died by now, she was probably safe. Right?
You put your hands under my shirt
Undid my bra and said these words-
Shit, shit, shit. Enid finally just yanked the power cable to the speakers out of the outlet, desperate for it to stop. She had been bold to let the music continue, but there was no subtlety to this song whatsoever. She was so incredibly dead. Gone was the ire in Wednesday’s stare, replaced by shock and horror. She maintained eye contact with Enid, but Enid was thoroughly convinced that she wasn’t even aware she was doing it. Oh, she was so screwed.
“Wednesday, I can explain-“
“Enid, what was that?” Her tone of voice was completely, characteristically neutral. Any expression she had previously shown was wiped clean, as though it had never happened in the first place. The swiftness with which it disappeared unsettled Enid beyond belief. Whereas she had practically been falling all over herself to explain a second ago, all hope died.
“Well, the artist is girl in red…”
“And that means what exactly?”
Flabbergasted. That was the only word in which Enid could describe how she felt about this information. Admittedly, she knew that her roommate wasn’t exactly up-to-date with modern happenings. But girl in red was iconic; anyone who knew anything at all about queer culture had at least heard of her music. She may have brushed it off the first time, but now Enid forced herself to face the idea that her roommate was not supportive.
“Never mind. Whatever that was you shall refrain from ever playing it again or I will carve out your ear drums myself.”
There were few things in this life that Wednesday had not mastered. With a photographic memory, her knowledge retention was unmatched. This came with one fatal flaw: she had to learn modern phenomena. She could not simply teach herself; no, she had to interact, adapt, and socialize. As such, she brushed off many norms, "social cues”, and teenage colloquialisms. She placed a lot of value on retaining an expansive vocabulary, but such communication tactics were beneath her. And, perhaps, beyond her understanding.
With that being said, Wednesday would never tolerate ignorance. From the way she saw it, that was the first step to becoming a complete and total bigot. So, when Enid mentioned this "girl in red" as though it were something much more significant than kpop, it irked Wednesday that she did not know it. In an effort to disguise her reaction, she instead threatened Enid. But that night when her roommate was asleep, she retrieved her electronic cellular device. Following only a couple of minutes of research she was accosted by vibrant colors and "flags," but she got the general idea. On paper, some of the lyrics were quite meaningful. But other songs had her blushing and quickly closing the tab.
It baffled her that Enid would listen to homosexual music when she was so terribly obsessed with that gorgon boy. Surely Enid simply liked the way it sounded and not the message behind it.
If you went back in time and told any Nevermore student that Wednesday Addams would come to sit with a clique every day at lunch, they would have laughed in your face. Hysterically. And yet, she did. Usually, she was not bothered by their conversation unless it involved mockery of her. But following what she learned last night, she decided to evaluate just how much of it was over her head.
"Yoko, there is no need to be so defensive. You were being gay on main and Eugene called you out on it. You know how we," Xavier glanced meaningfully at Wednesday, "feel about PDA."
Good so far. PDA: extravagant, disgusting displays of affection in public. Like her parents.
"It's not my fault I have a girlfriend and you don't. Or, dare I say it, would you prefer a boyfriend?" Yoko usually had biting verbal retorts, though Wednesday felt as though this one was lacking in punch. The perfect one came to mind, but before she could say it she noticed Enid give her a strange look. Was she... Nervous?
"Yoko, you're being so fruity that Eugene's hive might just swarm to you instead." Bianca gestured vaguely at the couple and Divina opened her mouth to defend her girlfriend. But before she could, Wednesday interjected for clarification.
"Whatever does this "fruity" term mean?"
Silence. Enid threw her another strangely panicked glance, but she did not relent. They had likely said it before, and so of course she would want to know what it meant. Luckily Eugene recovered and began explaining.
"It refers to someone queer, Wednesday."