Enid: *teasingly* Why, Wednesday, are my new alpha muscles distracting you from your writing?
Wednesday: Don’t be absurd. While your physiological changes are certainly impressive, something so base as physical attraction holds no sway over my iron focus.
Enid: Oh yeah? Then why are you tapping on my abs instead of your typewriter?
Wednesday: I’m not—
Wednesday: I’m—
Wednesday:
Wednesday: *slowly realizes that she is seated on Enid’s lap with her fingertips hovering over said abs*
Wednesday:
Wednesday: So I am.
Enid: *smug smile*
Wednesday: *clears her throat and begins to rise* My apologies. I’ll—
Enid: Just uh—putting some plushies on this high shelf.
Wednesday: Must you be shirtless?
Enid: Whatcha mean? I’m wearing a shirt. *twirls in place*
Wednesday: *reddens* That is a far cry from a shirt. That is a handkerchief with delusions of grandeur.
Enid: Well, it’s hot in here and I wanna be comfy.
Wednesday: It’s November. I’ve already observed two points that indicate that you are experiencing the cold.
Enid: Been staring at my chest, Willa? *winks*
Wednesday:
Wednesday: *clears throat* You are being purposefully performative.
Enid: *returns to putting up plushies* What makes you think that?
Wednesday: You are… flexing excessively.
Enid: Oh, am I?
Wednesday: *wets lips* Needlessly, in fact, as you are merely lifting insipid dolls.
Enid: *just shrugs deliciously broad shoulders*
Wednesday gulps as she ogles watches Enid heft another plushie, her back and arm muscles bunching suspiciously. The werewolf sets the stuffed critter on the shelf and—
*SNAP-CRASH*
Enid: *freezes with her back to Wednesday* Oops.
Wednesday walks up to inspect the ruined shelf littering the floor. She nudges a plushie with a booted toe. It fails to budge, but the act does widen a torn seam to reveal something metallic within.
Wednesday: I… see. I was wondering where my tungsten drowning weights had gone.
Enid: *well-muscled back still to Wednesday* Gosh uh—how did those get in there?
Wednesday: *glares*
Wednesday: *menacingly* Misleading me about your attire. Lying about the temperature.
Wednesday: *from behind Enid* Stealing my possessions as part of some ploy to make me question my grasp on reality.
Enid: Oh c’mon, babe, you’re just being silly. *swallows nervously*
Wednesday: *dangerous hiss* Are you gaslighting me, Sinclair?
Enid:
Enid: *hesitantly* Um. Nope! I am like—totes not.
Wednesday: *presses bodily against Enid’s back* That’s too bad.
Enid: *stiffens* Uh—wait—when did you—you’re already naked!?
Wednesday: Oh, am I?
Enid: Heh. I knew this would wor-WHOA! Hey, I liked that top—ohshit! Hang on just one—How are you SO STRONG?! Eek! EEK! OH MY G—
Inspired by this series of reblogs between @sinsdaycorp and @vaniloqu3nce.
