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stars-and-birds · 1 year

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Happy new year guys have a self indulgent wenclair fic i wrote instead of sleeping :D

“Tonight’s the night.” Enid declared, slamming down her red plastic cup next to the table where Yoko sat, some odd mixture of orange juice and vodka sloshing at the impact. Yoko looked up, flashing lights dancing across her pale face and dark eyes.

“Tonight’s the night… you what?” She asked, twisting around in her chair to face a confident and possibly slightly drunk Enid.

“The night I tell her. Wednesday” She replied breezily, plopping down into the chair next to Yoko. It was New Year’s eve, and Xavier Thorpe was throwing a huge party at his house. Well, ‘house’ was a stretch. More like a mansion. Enid had gotten lost at least five times (and stumbled upon three couples making out) on her way to the main room, where a disco ball flashed almost as loudly as the blasting music. Alcohol and drunk teenagers splashed across the room, dancing and cheering. Half of Nevermore had to be there.

“I’ll take her aside and confess. I’m telling her I like her.” Enid said confidently. She’d played the scenario over and over in her head, she wouldn’t be surprised if it had seared itself onto her brain. For months now she’d been worrying, trying to find some way to tell Wednesday she had feelings for her. Two very different possibilities played like a broken record in her brain, looping over and over. Number one, Wednesday harshly rejects her with a cold glare and their friendship breaks apart, Enid moves in with Yoko, and they never talk to or see each other ever again. This was bad. Worst case scenario. Scenario two, and the unfortunately less likely one, however… included holding hands, dates, kisses…

“Earth to Enid. Testing testing one two three.” Yoko said, snapping Enid out of a daydream that had spread a huge smile on her face.

“What?”

“Can I tell you what I think will happen?” Yoko asked, snatching up Enid’s drink like a cat and taking a sip.

“What?” Enid said again, somewhat irritated.

“You’ll work up some nerve and then chicken out like a little bitch. Like at the Christmas party. Or the Halloween one. Or even— ”

“Yeah okay I get it.” Enid interrupted. “But this time will be different! New year, new me.”

“Technically it’s not the new year yet.” Yoko pointed out as her girlfriend, Divina, stumbled up and sat next to Yoko too, leaning her head on her shoulder. Enid rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. Oh, there she is!” She said excitedly, spotting Wednesday’s goth aesthetic sticking out like a sore thumb. Her signature braids hung behind her head, nearly blending into her midnight black dress that spilled over her shoulders like a waterfall. The light caught her face for a second, flashing her black eyes so bright Enid could see it from across the room. Enid’s heart beat a little faster.

I’msogayi’msogayi’msogay

Enid took a deep breath, smoothing the colorful jumpsuit that she had slipped into for the night.

“WEDNESDAY HI!!!!” Enid yelled, making her way through the crowd and raising her voice over the music rattling her feet. Wednesday turned to face her, her face softening a little at the sight of Enid wiggling her way through the horde of sweat and vodka breath.

“OMG you look great!” Enid squealed, clasping her hands together as she finally reached Wednesday and Thing, perched like a bird on her shoulder, signing hello at Enid.

“You look…” Wednesday glanced Enid up and down like a cat stalking her prey, silently judging. “Revolting.”

“Thanks… I guess.” Enid gulped a little, a lump of nerves sliding down her throat.

Okay Sinclair. Stay cool. Just act normal.

“SO! Wednesday, I wanted to talk to you.” Wednesday’s eyebrows creeped up her forehead.

“You are.” She deadpanned.

“I know! I know, I just… about something specific.”

A beat.

“About…”

“YEah! About… um…” God, why was this so hard? Just get it out there.

“Do you… I… um. Do you want a drink?” She blurted out. Ugh. Nice going Sinclair.

Wednesday’s eyebrows raised a little higher. “I suppose.” She conceded.

“Great! I’ll go get you one.” Enid scrambled off into the crowd. Ugh. Of course Yoko was right, of course her nerves had overpowered her and she’d chickened out. No. It wasn’t too late. She’d get the drinks, come back, confess… and no matter what happened, hope it would quel the raging storm that thundered in her chest whenever Wednesday looked at her. It was a storm, yes. But it was also a flower that had slowly grown, unknown to Enid at first. A flower that glowed when Wednesday complimented her, that bloomed when they touched. A flower that Enid had unknowingly nurtured until she’d found herself with a flower bigger than she’d ever imagined. She reached the refreshments table, grabbing two plastic cups and scooping some punch in, contemplating the situation. Of fucking course she had to fall in love with Wednesday fucking Addams of all people. Wednesday with her deadpan drawl, cold glares, beautiful eyes… Something sticky and wet hit her hand, and she looked down to see that she’d overfilled the cup she was holding. Ugh.

Five minutes later she’d successfully partly cleaned up the mess, and was making her way through the crowd again, this time precariously balancing two glasses of punch. Okay. Okay. Okay okay okay okay. She got this. She’d walk up to Wednesday, tell her she liked her and then… heartbreak or kisses. Probably heartbreak, she thought bitterly.

“Okay Wednesday,” Here we go. “I got your drink, I…” she trailed off. Her heart plummeted into her stomach. There, right where she had left her, Wednesday stood in front of Xavier. The boy was holding roses. Black roses. Black roses that Wednesday’s hands were closed around, hands that dropped to Wednesday’s side at the sight of Enid standing there.

Oh.

The punch cups clattered to the floor, but all noise was muted in Enid’s ears.

Something new bloomed in Enid’s chest. Not bloomed. Withered. Withered and stung, dead branches prickling her heart, closing in and suffocating it. The feeling slowly creeped up her chest, closing up her throat, thorns stinging her eyes. Tears, hot and wet and gross and—

“Enid.” Wednesday’s voice. Her voice, which had soothed Enid’s nightmares and comforted her through her pain. Her voice that cut through Enid’s thoughts, that shocked her out of her trance.

“I… I'm sorry. Sorry. I… I have to go, I—” Enid’s words tripped and stumbled over themselves, not quite finding footing and forming complete sentences. It didn’t matter, as something else drove Enid’s legs away. Away from the shocked boy with the roses and the stunned girl who had stolen her heart. Away, away, away. Away down the confusing endless halls, which seemed to close in on her every second. Away and into the nearest door, away and stumbling into the closet and bumping into the brooms and mops and falling to the floor, sobbing. Tears soaked her thoughts, blurred common sense. Why was she crying? It’s not as if… it’s not as if she ever expected to get together with Wednesday. She didn’t expect a fairy tale ending, so why did it feel like she’d been cheated out of it? Had she read too far into the brushes of hands and passing glances that she’d feebly convinced herself she didn’t think meant anything more? Her heart felt like it’d been ripped out of her chest, tossed aside carelessly. Why did it feel like she’d handed Wednesday her heart, fragile and on edge from all the times it had been broken and dropped. Why did it feel like Wednesday had taken it from her and set it aside, doomed to inevitably fall again. Why did it feel so wrong?

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, just her and her broken heart. Stupid stupid stupid. Her mom’s voice stained her thoughts. She had no reason to be upset. She was overreacting, being overdramatic. Afterall, Wednesday didn’t know about Enid’s feelings for her. It wasn’t fair to Wednesday. And maybe, Wednesday did know and just… hadn’t cared. Decided Enid wasn’t good enough. It wouldn't be the first time Wednesday had tossed aside someone’s feelings for her own benefit. It wouldn’t be the first time Enid was abandoned for being not good enough. A shadow from behind the door tore away the flashing lights that had crept through, cracking open the door slowly. Enid kept her head in her arms, sniffling. The shadow —whoever it was — carefully set itself down next to Enid, brushing against her in the small closet.

“Enid.” Enid would recognize that voice anywhere. Even through her usual bored tone, Wednesday still managed to sound… caring.

“Enid, I need you to talk to me.” A pause, a mini void filled only by more sniffling from Enid.

“Why are you upset?” Her voice wasn’t demanding or accusing. Only curious. Like her voice that first night on the roof, when she had asked why Enid was crying. She’d said because she was upset. Maybe Wednesday understood that now, that crying meant that Enid wasn’t okay, that she needed comfort. Enid let the silence hang for a few more moments, trying to collect her stray thoughts and fish out an excuse.

“I… just. Sorry. Must’ve had too much to drink, haha.” Enid hated the way her voice sounded, weak and scrawny like a newborn chick.

“I can’t help if you’re lying to me.” Wednesday stated so matter-of-factly, turning to face Enid. Her eyes were so beautiful, a betraying part of her brain couldn’t help notice.“Is this about Xavier?” She continued. “Do you… like him?” Her eyes were like milky black pearls. Or a void staring endlessly back at Enid… wait. Wait what.

“What? No!” Enid wrinkled her nose. Even the thought of getting together with that… emo wannabe made her want to gag.

“Then what’s wrong?” Enid looked away again, resting her head in her arms.

Click

She looked up, startled. The closet door had slammed shut, and she scrambled to her feet, jiggling the door handle. It was locked. Wednesday had stood up too, pushing Enid aside to try it herself.

“Thing, if you do not open this door I will flay you alive.” She said, tone so sharp you could use it to slit someone's throat. No sound from the other side of the door, save for the soft clicks of manicured fingers padding off.

“Thing!” Wednesday growled. Enid shoved her back aside, trying to channel some werewolf strength to open up the door. Wednesday pushed her back, and soon they were shoving each other back and forth in the tiny closet.

“Enid, stop moving.”

“Give me some space!”

“Stop moving!”

Enid froze, eyes barely registering anything in the total darkness. A moment later, a light clicked on. Wednesday had found a lightbulb, and the cord to turn it on along with it. Speaking of Wednesday… after a moment of adjusting to the light Enid noticed.. They were very close. A tangle of limbs, they’d somehow ended up eye-to-eye, barely a foot between their faces.

Oh god

Enid could feel herself turning red, her cheeks flushing as Wednesday mumbled something about Thing never seeing the light of day again. She looked… really hot. Which was a very weird thing to think about the sweaty girl with a death glare you were trapped in a closet with, so she was going to stop thinking about it along with the ever growing urge to kiss Wednesday Friday Addams.

“I was jealous!” Enid blurted out. She wasn’t sure where it came from. Maybe she was tired of hiding it. Wednesday was looking at her, dumbfounded.

“…What?”

“I was jealous.” Enid continued, squeezing her eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to see the disgust that would inevitably flush the other girl’s face. “I was jealous of Xavier. Because I know he likes you and you like him and I…” She trailed off, bowing her head as more tears stung her eyes. “And I like you.” The words hung heavy in the air, a long held secret finally released.

“You like me?” Wednesday’s voice was a whisper, a ghost. But Enid heard it. Liked her? She more than liked her, really.

“I—”

“TEN!”

Enid was cut off by a chorus of voices from outside the closet. She pulled up her apple watch. 11:59. The countdown to new years had begun.

“NINE!”

“Enid, listen.” Wednesday's voice rang out urgent and clear.

“EIGHT!”

“It’s okay, I get it. You don’t like me back.” It was hard to keep the spite from creeping into her voice.

“SEVEN!”

“No, I… I don’t like Xavier. We’re not a thing. I rejected him”

“SIX!”

For a moment, Enid’s voice was stolen from her.

Wednesday didn’t like Xavier.

“FIVE!”

“But… I don’t understand. The flowers…” Something cold creeped up Enid’s face. Wednesday. Wednesday’s hands cupped her cheeks.

“FOUR!”

The space between them had gotten smaller, the air a kind of heavy that made Enid’s chest seize up around her heart and catch her breath.

“THREE!”

“I don’t like Xavier. I like you.” Wednesday said softly, so close that Enid could feel her warm breath mingling with Enid’s own.

“TWO!”

“Me? But… I don’t understand.” Enid’s voice was shaky, trembling. A million things were going on within her, panicked screams and breathless gasps. She was pretty sure she was having a heart attack.

“Then let me help you understand,” Wednesday replied, the determination in her voice reflected in her eyes.

“ONE!”

Faster than Enid could prepare or process, Wednesday kissed her. On the lips. And after an incredible moment that lasted for an infinity, that she would carry with her for the rest of her life, Enid kissed back. She couldn’t see the fireworks outside, but she had a pretty good idea from inside the closet. The boom was her heartbeat, so quick and so loud. The heat was Wednesday’s lips against hers, warm and welcoming. The lights… the lights were the faint blush that graced Wednesday’s black and white cheeks, the shine in her eyes when they opened as they broke apart. Wednesday's hands were a chilly vine, receding from Enid’s hair, tracing her chin.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The crowd from outside screamed, laughing and talking before breaking into a chorus. Wednesday’s eyes never left Enid, her brow furrowing.

“You taste like alcohol.”

Enid couldn’t help it. The flower in her chest had bloomed again, and something in her was just so… happy. She broke out into giggles, doubling over. She’d just kissed Wednesday fucking Addams. She’d just kissed Wednesday!

“Pffft. Happy New Year Wednesday.”

#wenclair #wenclair fic #My fic #my fics #im too lazy to put this on ao3 lol #whatever ill do it tommorow #well today technically #hang on did i just pull an all-nighter #shit

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thresholdbb · 9 days

Note

what's the threshold theory

There was a post about how Tom is the only crew member who isn't really affected by the Borg, and there's a theory that he has so much luck because he saw the past and the future when he crossed the transwarp threshold. He saw the past and the future, all of time and space. There's some subconscious part of him that remembers that experience. In fact, Tom refused to play a part in Chakotay indulging Annorax's temporal incursions, probably because a part of him knew nothing good could come of it.

If we extend that same theory to Janeway, some of her wild luck with time travel and other crack plans starts to make sense. She doesn't verbally hate time travel until after the events of Threshold, since it happens in Time and Again without complaint. Janeway has an uncanny knack for time travel, as evidenced every time she deals with it. She hates time travel, but it might be because part of her knows exactly how to manipulate the timeline. She manages to avoid the "inevitable" temporal explosion in Future's End, saving both Voyager and Braxton. She resets the entire timeline in Year of Hell, and no one else followed her reasoning. She pulled it off flawlessly. In Relativity, she senses the incidents are all related, despite it being just one reading that connects them. By the time she's involved, she has a temporal incursion factor of .0036 and a time travel protocol named after her, even if that may just be Braxton's personal grudge. Then there's Endgame, where she intentionally changes the timeline. Up until this point, she has been dragged into time travel, but for the first time, she jumps in on purpose. How does Admiral Janeway know how to get them home sooner in a way that completely avoids the Temporal Integrity Commission? It's because she has seen all of time, and part of her knows exactly what needs to happen so she can get Voyager home and do it in a way that becomes baked into the prime timeline. Maybe she doesn't consciously remember what happened during her transformation, but the experience lives in her mind somewhere, guiding her decisions.