#Selectively mute characters

[cripplecharacters]

I have an autistic level one (low support needs) character that doesn’t speak, but physically can. Just finds it painful (emotionally? not physically) and hard. He was mute before I decided he was autistic, and I want to know if it can be the sole cause for it? I’ve seen a lot of contradicting opinions on what being nonverbal means. He used to speak bc he is physically capable but he got comfortable w himself and others and doesn’t do it anymore, or very rarely. Can this be solely autism-related? I feel like it is not selective mutism because not speaking is simply what they prefers, not something caused by any particular emotion or anxiety. I experience that sometimes and would like to know if it can ever be permanent/full-time and in that case if it can be considered being non-verbal.

Hi,

Autism is definitely a common reason for people to not speak, or to previously have been able to speak but no longer being able to do so, either at all or consistently.

Here's a blog post from Assistiveware, an AAC company, explaining intermittent, unreliable, insufficient, and expensive speech! It has its own resources. To me it seems like your character experiences intermittent or expensive speech — I hadn't heard of expensive speech before, but I knew of the other three — and is therefore semiverbal.

Nonverbal is more for people who don't speak (whether it's because they never do, or cannot), and people can become nonverbal without having been so their whole life. Sometimes it's extended to people who have maybe a couple words, like 1-5.

You could potentially describe your character as 'doesn't speak,' or 'rarely speaks,' and those are perfectly acceptable descriptions, too.

Hope this helps!

– mod sparrow

[dismas-n-dismay]

I need to start seeing Mute Meijack propaganda on the dashboard right now. Don’t care if it’s selective mutism or what but my baby girl is NOT A YAPPER and her being mute and Chilchuck learning sign language for her would absolutely make my day

[potatoesarecheese]

We need more mute characters in fiction

More mute characters in fiction that aren't infantilized or belittled or, god forbid, fixed. Characters that, instead of learning how to talk "normally" learn to stop hating themselves for being different.

Sure, we have the mute characters that physically can't speak, their throat was damaged, their vocal cords were ripped out, they're deaf. All those reasons are great.

But we need more mute characters that can speak, but actually can't in every way that matters. Characters that should be fine but they're not and they don't know what's wrong with them and they're just stuck feeling horrible all the time.

Characters that are trapped inside of their own heads, wanting to scream and speak and be heard, but also unable to because they are terrified of being perceived. because they shouldn't speak. because they won't speak.

Because they dug themselves into a hole but they have no idea what happened how to get back out of it or even call out for someone else to throw them a rope.

Because their whole society is built around this idea of perfection and how your body is supposed to work and so of course they're struggling. everyone else has baked it into their heads that they're “broken” and “useless” when they're really actually not.

Instead of getting fixed and learning to talk, they find a group of people that are normal about it. That treat them as an entire human being and help them unravel all of those ideas about the "normal" and "correct" way to do things.

We need more mute characters in fiction, because how can you ever even begin to communicate with someone if they don't know how to listen to you?

We need more mute characters in fictions, because it will help us unravel all those ideas about the "normal" and "correct" way to do things

[blackfliesinbluesugar]

Fics tagged like 'sex favourable asexual Alastor' and 'sex positive asexual Alastor' that are just pure pwp with zero reference to asexuality are so funny to me. Op, you can just write porn, it's ok, we know this is fanon, you don't have to pretend his asexuality was considered here. No one is going to chase and beat you with sticks I promise.

[gryfflepuffinthetardis]

Sweet Jane Part One — Campbell Bain x Reader

Summary: Y/n was admitted to Saint Jude's hospital in Glasglow soon after her eighteenth birthday when she developed a case of psychogenic/traumatic mutism; there she meets a talkative, optimistic, idealistic, hyperactive nineteen-year-old boy with Manic depression who dreams of becoming a DJ, follow them through their story and learn what happened to Y/n.

Series Warnings: Past Toxic Relationship, Manipulative Ex, Mentions of Past Rape, Mental Health, Discrimination against the Mentally Ill/Neroudivergent, Traumatized Reader, Abusive Parents, Mentions of deceased family members, Stalking, Suicide, Reader doesn't handle men touching her well, Mentions of Sex, Bad Caretakers, Implied Non-Scottish Reader, Implied Short Reader, Campbell Bain's Dad is Terrible

Chapter Warnings: Reader refuses to speak; Loving Campbell Bain, Traumatized Reader, Selectively Mute Reader, PTSD Reader, Psychogenic Mute Reader, Traumatic Mute Reader, Manic Depressant Campbell Bain, Bipolar Campbell Bain, Schizophrenic Furgus, OCD Rosalie, Reader Developed Selective Mutism as a Coping Mechanism, Reader may have an intense type of anxiety caused by trauma, Reader is implied to not be Scottish or at least from Scotland (I am American but just add where you're from), Reader is implied to be shorter than the six-foot Campbell Bain

“You are a mystery to me, yet so familiar. Like a song I’ve never heard before, and a tune I’ve known my entire life.”

Y/N hadn't spoken a word since she was eighteen and long before that something had changed. Her parents finally decided enough was enough and sent her to Saint Jude's hospital in Glasgow.

Campbell had literally crashed into the new girl during his excitement at hearing that the Saint Jude's radio station would be reopened.

The girl screamed as he collided with her and she started screaming and kicking due to his body weight on her.

"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry." He said, hurriedly, getting off of her and holding a hand out to help her up but she just stared at him, terrified, "I'm sorry. Uh..." He realized he didn't recognize her, as far as he knew he was the youngest patient at Saint Jude's and this girl was around his age. This was exciting! "Are you new? I'm Campbell Bain, I'll be the bane of your life until one of us is discharged." He chortled at his own joke before he realized she was still of the floor, "Oh, let me help you up." He crouched down and took her hand, helped her up.

She stared at him with a confused look on her face but she didn't pull her hand away yet more out of shock than anything. Campbell offered her a smile before she ripped her hand out of his grip and ran off, leaving Campbell very confused.

He asked the nurses about the girl but none would give him proper answers, until he got to Stuart the orderlie, who should've been a patient instead but... you know, life.

"She's a looney." He said, blankly.

"Ai, yes. Yes. Yes. I know that much but what's her name? What's her deal?" Campbell prodded.

"Y/N." Was all he said.

--

A few days later, Eddie McKenna arrived to be the DJ for Saint Jude's, with assumption that he'd be able to tell the difference between the staff and the patients.

He had an interaction with Stuart and assumed he was a patient but found out that he was a nursing assistant. Well, that couldn't be good.

Then he met Campbell, who seemed perfectly friendly and nice before realizing he was a patient himself.

Campbell and Y/N were on better terms, now that she had stopped bolting on the other direction when he tried to talk to her. And they listened to Eddie's show as Y/N read Narnia.

Soon after the show, Eddie heard Campbell playing and singing, Summertime Blues on his guitar which was only slightly out of tune, which Eddie had played on his show. He saw Y/N correcting Campbell's finger placement on the guitar as he whined that it hurt his hand.

Campbell enthusiastically praised Eddie and explained on his poor timing and the patient’s dependence of television.

Y/N caught sight of something moving outside the window and she threw a guitar pick at Campbell, making him pout in her direction before seeing her pointing and they ran to window as he said, “Hang on, you’re not boring me or that, but I’ve just seen a friend of mine flying past the window.”

Y/N and Campbell leaned out the window to see the hospital’s Schizophrenic who despite the schtick his disorder stereotyped him as he was just the most gentle soul you’d ever meet, if a little eccentric, grappling down the side of the building.

“Fergus! What’re you doing!?” Campbell shouted after him as Eddie joined them, “you’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“Shall I get a nurse?” Eddie asked and Y/N shook her head.

“Fergus! You’re gonna miss your cocoa, you know!”

“I know.” Fergus told him.

“Can Y/N and I have it, then?” He asked.

“Help yourselves.” He told them.

“He’s escaping.” Eddie said, surprised how calm both of them were being so calm about this

“He’ll be knocking on the door in an hour or so. He always does.” Campbell reassured Eddie, “annoys the hell out of the staff but makes this one smile.” He nodded at Y/N as she sat on Campbell’s bed with his guitar, the look of fascination in Campbell's eyes was not lost on Eddie.

Campbell returned to his enthusiastic and impulsive idea-planning, the first being to bring up a story when a student nurse accidently gave everyone in the ward a laxative, making Eddie and Y/N look at him oddly and the only problem he saw with it was where he’d get that many laxatives.

“What about a request show?” He asked Eddie.

“I already thought of that. I haven’t enough records.” Eddie shot down that idea… well, he’s never disagreed with Campbell Bain before.

“So?”

“So? When folk request something, they usually like to be able to play it.”

“We just make them keep requesting until they hit something we actually have.” Campbell said, “‘if you can guess a record that we actually have in our library, then we will play it for you with a special dedication’.” He did a playful punch in the air, “who could resist?”

“It’ll never work.”

Y/N who had been playing with Campbell’s guitar, then played a jingly tune.

“You’re right, Y/N!” He declared, enthusiastically with an enthusiastic pointed finger at her and then he ran his hand through his light auburn-brown floppy hair, “We’ll need some jingles.” Y/N looked up when Campbell sang a jingle, “Hospital radio, Saint Juuuuude’s.” He smiled at Eddie, “that sort of thing.”

“You need singers to record jingles.”

Campbell picked up his guitar from Y/N and sat next to her, “and what exactly is sitting here before you?”

“A lunatic!” Eddie declared, making Y/N softly giggle.

“Aye, a singing lunatic!” Campbell agreed, enthusiastically. “We could record them in the station, aye?”

“Aye…” Eddie submitted.

“Brilliant!” Campbell exclaimed, going back to Eddie, “Now give me the key.” He held out his hand.

“What key?” Eddie asked.

“To the station.” Campbell said and ran to the door, looking out, “look, I’ve gotta start. Writing the jingles, rehearsing the singers, cataloging the albums.”

Eddie looked at Y/N as she looked back down and realized he hadn’t gotten her name, having been distracted Campbell’s… Campbell-ness and Fergus escaping. “Uh, ma’am… what’s your name again?” Eddie asked, making Y/N look up from a piece of paper she was now writing on, she gave him with a blank deadpan look at being called “ma’am”. She was only eighteen.

“That’s Y/N.” Campbell said.

“What’s your favorite album?” Nothing. She just looked at him, “can you sing?” She blinked twice and he turned back to Campbell, “what’s wrong with her?”

“Oh, she doesn’t speak. She hasn’t said a word since she got here.” Campbell said, “and there’s nothing wrong with her, she’s just looney like me!”

Eddie walked closer to him and asked as gently as he could, “Campbell, how exactly are you here?”

Campbell paused in which he faltered, knowing how his own father felt about his disorder before smiling, “Can you not guess? I’m manic.” Y/N looked up and smiled at him, making his eyes dart to her and a more genuine smile appeared on his lips before he reassured Eddie, “but don’t worry. The drugs I take make me completely stable. Except for headaches, of course.” He blinked in pain as he focused back on the painful headaches and he squeezed his eyes shut before blindly grabbing onto Eddie’s shirt who could sense a scene coming up as could Y/N who looked up to be amused by Campbell, “I get these headaches. I just comes over me and I cannae…” He flopped on his bed, next to Y/N and shouted out in pain, “ah, the bells! The bells!”

Y/N reached over and went to place her hand on Campbell’s back before stopping, hesitating to do so, not sure if they were close enough or if she wanted to admit that they were close enough and then suddenly Campbell’s mood shifted back to near manic and he shot himself up to look at Eddie, making Y/N pull her hand away, blinking briefly in surprise, “And I want my own show, by the way.”

“What?” Eddie asked.

“Well, after all this work, I think it’s only fair, don’t you?” He questioned.

“Campbell, I cannae just give you your own show.” Eddie protested, “you need training on the equipment.”

“So? Train me!” Campbell pleaded, eagerly. “I’ll take Friday nights.”

“Will that not clash with Brookside?” Eddie questioned.

Y/N looked at the window where they had gone to to shout after Fergus.

—

The next day, Campbell and Eddie were in the common room with Eddie standing shyly while Campbell did the opposite and shouted through a party megaphone while Y/N sat with Fergus, writing down something for him to read. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have an important announcement to make!” He spotted Fergus and Y/N and narrowed his eyes, “Fergus, stop flirting with Y/N.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and went to the couch rather bored now and put her headphones on.

Campbell and Eddie had announced the request show, while admitting that they had limited records. Eddie went to talk to Nana while Campbell stared at Y/N, feeling nervous to approach her since he worried she hated him with how scared she got when he interacted with her.

Then Fergus clapped him on the back, making him stumble and look at him, unamused before approaching the silent H/C-haired girl.

"Hey, Y/N," Campbell said, kindly, walking up to the silent girl but she didn't seem to hear him as she was listening to her Walkman. He tapped her shoulder, making her jump and stare at him with wide eyes just as she had when they first met. He gestured to her headphones, silently asking if he could take them off and she slowly nodded and he gently slid them off and could vaguely hear Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover by Sophie B. Hawkins.

"Hey, we're doing a request show. You have any requests?"

She looked at him for a good while before getting up and leaving. Campbell frowned and his spirits were diminished before leaning forward and face planting his face into the couch cushion, groaning.

—

Campbell showed Eddie the radio station now cleaned and useable thanks to him, Y/N, and Rosalie and as he left Eddie questioned Campbell about Nana and Campbell answered in his own hyperactive way before Eddie questioned him about his obvious crush on Y/N.

“The silent girl, uh… M/Y/N.” (Mispronunciation of Your Name)

“Y/N.” Campbell corrected, automatically in a slightly defensive tone.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Campbell’s cheeks burned as they reddened and his heartrate quickened, “No. No. No. She’s new actually. Been here about a week. She… she’s a mystery.” He gave out a dreamy smile, “One I’d like to solve but…” He shrugged like, what can you do? —

Campbell was snoring when he was awoken by a friendly smack in the head. He woke up, groaning with confusion before turning on his light, illuminating Y/N who smile sweetly at him as she held something behind her back.

"Jesus, Y/N." He groaned, "what you do that for?" She just looked at him and he nodded, remembering who je was talking to, "right. Uh, what is it?"

Y/N brought a custom record sleeve out from behind her back and he slowly began to realize what she was trying tell him.

"Oh, you want me to play one of these songs during the show tomorrow, er… today?" He asked.

She nodded and sat on the edge of his bed, making him kick around spazzily and awkwardly before sitting up, trying to make room for her as his heart pounded and he looked down at her, feeling her body heat up against his but forced himself not to think about that as it was a bit of a creepy thought to have at two in the morning as she showed him the songs on the back of the vinyl which was also handmade, she pointed at the first song: a cover of The Velvet Underground's Sweet Jane by Cowboy Junkies.

"Is that your favorite song?" He asked and she nodded. "Wait, these are all from different bands, how'd you get this?"

She pointed to herself, "you made it?" He gathered, "Who made the record?" She pointed to herself again and he just smiled at her impressed and enamored by her. "You are one mystery, Y/N L/N. You may be my favorite mystery.”

She smiled, telling him that she liked the idea of being a mystery to him and kissed his cheek, near the corner of his lip, nearly making him melt with a loud dreamy sigh before running off. He looked after he with a starstruck look of awe on his face before flopping back on his pillow, groaning.

—

The next day, Y/N shared a smile with Fergus before listening in on the radio to the show, standing and watching Campbell through the window.

“Good evening! This is Ready Eddie.” Eddie introduced, “and on my left is my right-hand man…”

“Campbell Bain.” Campbell introduced, not seeing Y/N watching him and the smile on her lips.

“And you’re listening to the first ever Ready Eddie Radio Request Road Show.” He gave Campbell a thumbs up and the nineteen-year-old pushed a button, making a jingle play.

“Ready Eddie’s road show. Ready, Eddie, go.”

“That’s right. This is the premiere. This is the first. And you can tell everyone that you were there. You heard it! You saw it!” Campbell said, enthusiastically before joking, “And they’ll tell you, it’s all part of your illness.”

Y/N giggled at his antics before realizing this and she zipped her leather jacket up over her shirt with the sarcastic quote on it.

“We’re playing requests from Ward Eleven this evening. This one is for Francine. I hope you’re listening, Francine.”

Campbell then teased, “I hope anyone’s listening.” He then saw Y/N watching him and let out an audible smile that melted his insides.

“Is anybody listening?” Eddie asked, “Is anybody out there?”

Then Help! By the Beatles started to play and soon the patients came out and Campbell ran out of the station to dance with some patients before more came out, including Fergus. He gave Y/N a smile and thumbs up as he flashed the part of the television he had removed.

Campbell ran back to Eddie and pulled his earphone off so he could talk to him, “the television’s broken, Eddie! There is a God!”

Eddie nodded in the direction of Y/N and Campbell’s face lit up and he ran to Y/N and taking her hands, trying to ease her into dancing. She shook her head before starting to shuffle awkwardly to the music before Campbell took her hands and pulled her against him so she danced with him to the beat of the music. She then giggled up against him and he smiled, triumphally.

He was about to comment on how beautiful her laugh when there was a BANG! And the music stopped, making them all exclaim in disappointment before Campbell and Y/N ran back to the station to see what was wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

“The mixing desk.” Eddie said, trying to fix it with his limited knowledge.

“Do something!” Campbell exclaimed.

“What can I do? I can’t even turn on the bathroom light without shocking myself.” Eddie remarked.

“Well, check the plug. Maybe it’s the fuse.” Campbell suggested as Y/N looked up at Fergus and gestured for him to come.

“It’s not the fuse.” Eddie sighed.

Campbell ran his hand through his floppy hair, “I cannae believe this. I’ve just had the world’s shortest career as a disk jockey.”

Fergus took out a screwdriver and headed inside to help and started to unscrew the screws of the mixing desk.

“Fergus, what are you doing?” Campbell asked.

“I’ll just have a look.” Fergus reassure him.

“No, don’t!” Eddie shouted, “don’t have a look there.”

Y/N helped Fergus lift the plate of the mixing desk as Eddie continued to try and stop Fergus and Y/N, “Fergus, Y/N, I’m asking you. Please, leave it alone”

“He’s gonna blow it up.” A patient said.

“He’s not!” Campbell protested.

“I think I know what the problem is.” Fergus told Eddie.

“He’s blowing it up.” Another patient said and the others started to chant Fergus’ name.

“Fergus, don’t, okay!? Just leave it alone. It’s all we’ve got.” Eddie pleaded and Y/N smacked Eddie’s shoulder when Stuart literally pushed her out of the way, making her squeak and stumble before Campbell caught her and glared at Stuart.

“Oi, watch where you’re going!” He shouted.

Stuart aggressively grabbed Fergus holding him in a near chokehold and Y/N tried to go forth to help but Campbell held her back, knowing she’d just be pushed away again, if not sedated.

“He’s not causing trouble, is he?” He asked Eddie and Y/N shook her head, frantically at Eddie.

“No, he’s just helping me, get the mixing desk going again.” Eddie muttered.

“Him? He couldn’t get his brain going again.” Stuart spat and Y/N scoffed, implying that she felt that better described Stuart than Fergus.

“Leave it, Stuart.” Isabella, the more kind nurse said, “it’s all over.”

Stuart let Fergus go and sulked out of the room, clearly upset that he didn’t get to hurt someone as Y/N gave him the middle finger.

Fergus closed the plate of the mixing desk and Y/N flipped the switch, making the light come back on.

“You two are geniuses.” Campbell gasped.

Y/N shook her head and pointed at Fergus like, no, he’s the genius.

“YOU’RE GENIUSES!” Campbell shouted and he slammed the door shut and got back to the microphone, “Sorry about the technical problems, folks. We’re now back on the air and we hope to keep it that way. Our next request is for Y/N and dedicated to her by me.” He chortled as he looked at her and clicked his tongue as he winked.

The cover of Sweet Jane played, making Y/N smile as Eddie looked at Fergus, giving him an apologetic and thankful smile as Fergus perpetually scowled before his lips curved into a gentle smile.

Later, Y/N helped Campbell clean up the hallways before they bumped into each other.

“Uh… so how did you know how to help Fergus?” He asked.

She took out her wad of paper and wrote: Learned. Taught.

He nodded, taking what he could get, “I always knew you were smart.” He said, honestly and he hesitated before leaning towards her to kiss her cheek like she had done the night, she shifted, conflicted as she could see the pure gentless in Campbell's personality, in his actions, in his eyes, and she could feel it in his cheek kiss. He had hesitated, not wanting to overstep boundaries and he was still nervous about his decision but before she could react Eddie ran out of the room, making them break apart and move out of the way before he rammed into them.

*This is a series from my Wattpad, so I'm moving in to Tumblr and Archive of my Own. There is an entire subplot later on of stalking and the cause of the reader's muteness or mutism (which ever is the correct term). Am I the only one who feels like Campbell Bain might also have ADHD or is it just because of his Bipolar/Manic Depression. I'm usually good at this but I'm having a hard time differentiating the two or maybe it's just David Tennant.

[valorianknights]

Azrael, Angel of Death

Just my take on Azrael for Hazbin Hotel. I think Charlie deserves a loving but misunderstood Aunt.

I figured that the exorcist Angels' helmets were designed to mimic her helmet, since she is known as the harbinger of Death.

I also drew Emily cause' she's the best girl!

I'd like to think that since Azrael's duty to guide souls from the mortal realm into the spirit realm, she's akin to a reaper. When she takes the souls from their physical bodies, she also goes through their memories to create a soul scroll, which acts as a human's "Life in review" or "Record of existence". Azrael then takes this scroll, along with the soul, to the Hall of Divine Judgement. Where the Council of Archangels and God will Judge the soul. After the sentencing Azrael casts Instant transmission on the soul and they spawn in either Heaven or Hell.

Human souls never retain their memories of divine judgement since they're too overwhelmed with their lives flashing before their eyes.

[diodellet]

cw: incoherent rambling, im still going through it™, unbeta'd++all mistakes are mine

grim being a selfish brat is the point of his character arc. when you're told to claw for your survival in a prestigious yet hostile magical academy, when you're told that the weak must obey the strong, of course you're going to make use of what little advantages are given to you. that means demanding your henchman to do your every bidding and taking any opportunity to prove your strength.

kindness, consideration, compassion, empathy - they don't have a place in NRC. or so it seems.

the great thing about him starting the story with an obnoxious and abrasive personality is in how he awkwardly navigates his first ever friendships. in the sweetness of the rare scene where kinship just clicks for him, where his boasts and complaints become banter, where he feels like he gets to belong, to have a home.

and there's something deeply tragic about grim too, the fact that he's going to be left alone when yuu returns to their original world. what will happen to his student status? will he have to move out of the ramshackle dormitory? can he make it through his studies without you at his side?

when the first person who gave you kindness leaves, what are you supposed to do? will you say goodbye or will you fight to keep them?

[cannondisabledcharacters]

Today’s disabled character of the day is Sunny from Omori, who has hikikomori syndrome, depression, an unspecified trauma, selective mutism, Arachnophobia, Aquaphobia, and Acrophobia. He is also visually impaired (route dependent)

Requested by Anon

[Image Description: Drawing of a boy with medical wrapping around his head and right eye. He is drawing with blue lines with a faint blue background. He has short black hair and black eyes. He is wearing a white hospital gown.]

[taylorshope]

Supermassive characters that I headcanon to have Selective Mutism

Ashley

Abi

Brad

Junior

Megan

Anthony/Andrew

Erin (canon :D)

[tic-toc-clock77]

There's been so much going on with Kate The Chaser lately and now, I can't stop thinking about her.

I think my hc will be selectively mute Kate, depending on the situation she's put into. I feel that's decent. It'll be subject to change though! (And of course, build ons and suggestions are always, ALWAYS welcome!)

[maryannecrimsworth]

Sweet Dreams

gif belongs to @tvandfilm

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11

Guide for tormented hearts

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Selective Mute! Reader

Warnings: flashback in italics, violence, mention of past trauma,

Summary: Having a sleepover in Wednesday's room was stressful enough, but having a sleepover with her and Enid was...you don't even had a word for it. Somehow, you ended up being interviewed by Enid. And, somehow, you felt Wednesday's hands involving yours in the middle of the night.

Some reader's characteristics: R has anxiety disorder, selective mutism, and is a really unique type of outcast. Reader's background it's derived from my Wednesday fic, The Hunt.

x

The picture shown to you was deserving of an award. It was theatrical, poetic, medieval. It showed a boy hooded, half naked, with his exposed skin painted red with the letter "A".

Any normal teenager would associate it with a popular series, and fear the one who pranked the hooded boy. However, the few who knew the true meaning behind the letter, knew that it was a punishment.

Surprisingly, Enid belonged to the second group, and her gossip blog was used to share the truth about the pranked boy — there weren't files or proof of what he had done, you didn't leave any on the scene. You know that the rumors about why a popular jock was hanged and mocked like this would ruin him — that's why you did it. Still, Wednesday complained about how merciful you were. For a second, you thought she was the one who told Enid to post about all the truth about the boy, but Wednesday seemed as surprised as you with her sudden arrival.

"OMG!" She gasped, running over to you both. "Did you guys see this? I still can't believe it!" The she-wolf showed you an Instagram post with the photo of the boy hanged. "Don't pity him though, Divina knows the guy and....well, let's say someone was really angry at him."

You couldn't help but chuckle.

"Do you think it's funny?"

Yes.

You said nothing, but Wednesday did.

"It's silly. I doubt anyone understood it."

"They will." Enid added right away. "I made sure of it and also...the guy felt so humiliated that he started to confess!" She was a bit too excited about it. "He bullied some kids from Nevermore too. Hank will be very busy because of him." Wednesday's eyes widened. "A bunch of older victims gathered the courage to accuse him too!" Enid cheered. "It's a bad guy paying for his crimes." The she-wolf seemed too happy about it, and both you and Wednesday watched in her silence for a brief moment. "We should know who did it."

You stepped away immediately, and Wednesday’s gaze followed you.

"Why is that?" She asked Enid, her eyes still on you as you walked away.

"Well, first, they committed a crime too, so the police will be looking for them." She argued, voice more steady and controled now. "Second, they deserved an award for their courage! I mean, it was a great idea! Efficient, cruel just enough." Enid suddenly stepped towards Wednesday. "Please don't tell anyone I said this."

"Do I look like I'd?"

Enid rolled her eyes and finally directed her attention to you. "Y/N!" She called you. "What do you think?"

It was hard for you to keep a blank face. In a dangerous act, you tilted your head in Wednesday's direction and smirked.

"No!" Enid jumped over to Wednesday. "You did not!"

"How dare—" She tried to hiss at you, but Enid grabbed her shoulders.

"How did you know it?" The she-wolf inquired. "OMG! You gotta tell me everything!"

"I'll kill you." She roared at your direction while Enid walked her to her colored side of the room.

"Please, please, I have to post it!"

"No."

"But—"

"I'm offended by your belief that I truly made such a harmless plan." She shoved Enid away with a cold glance and walked towards you slowly, following you by the room as you kept trying to flee. "I'd have done worse. Much worse." She finally cornered you. Wednesday stood so close to you that you weren't able to see Enid anymore. You weren't able to seek help anymore. "Y/N did it."

You held your breath instinctively — if you breathed wrong, Wednesday could kill you. And if you looked at her wrong, she would kill you.

Your gaze was locked on hers; you could not dare to contemplate the smirk on her lips or the freckles on her cheeks; you could not dare to follow the trace of her jawline or watch how softly her bang moved. If you did it right now, you did not know what the consequences would be.

However, Wednesday wasn't so cautious. Her gaze fell to your lips immediately, and her smirk grew wickedly as she watched your features twisting in stir and confusion.

"Please tell me everything!" Enid pumped up beside you and you jumped in reflex. Your eyes finally left Wednesday's. "Please! I promise I'll leave you anonymous but I have to know everything about that guy." Enid held your hand and pulled you away from the goth girl. "I want everyone to know what he had done."

You glanced at Wednesday for a brief second, not trying to get allowance, but to know why she did it, why she revealed you.

She wanted you to be friends with Enid too? Or was it a little revenge for your silly action?

Either way, it despaired you; You were sweating under Enid's careful touch.

She was glancing at you with expectation, and part of you knew Hank would never approve it.

But Hank didn't approve anything.

So you shook your head.

X

The interview with Enid turned out to be a slumber party. While she giggled and gasped at your short responses, Thing helped her to build...something. A fortress, you guessed, made of colorful blankets. Half of it was pink and yellow, the other half was black and white. You stood in the middle, unsure of where to go.

"So you found him drunk in the street and took your chance?" She asked after laying on the padded floor. "It was spontaneous like that?"

You shook your head, but it was Wednesday who replied. Your surprise by her voice was so great that you stepped back and watched her carefully.

"Y/N told me about the plan before we found him."

"So you found the douche in the street together?"

"Yes." She replied, unaware of where Enid wanted to get.

You were.

"So you were walking together? Like a date?"

You stepped away once again. You didn’t want to stand between the two girls right now.

"We spent the night together." Enid gasped, but Wednesday went on. "Investigating."

"I thought Hank was your partner in crime."

"Not anymore."

Not anymore. So you were. You were her partner.

You clutched your hands and grabbed your own arms, scratching yourself at distance from them both.

"Are you done with your questions?"

"No."

Wednesday stared at Enid, but the she-wolf didn't back away.

"Does Hank know about it?"

"Hank's a suspect."

You could no longer hear them. Your nervousness and excitement turned to anger in less than a second; you stormed out of the room with silent steps.

"What?"

"He's been lying to all of us."

Wednesday could only hear you closing the window to the balcony. Enid, Thing, and Wednesday watched you walking purposely and climbing over the rail.

A chill ran over Wednesday's body for a moment; she froze, and her chest stopped beating with the thought of what you could do. But you remained motionless, simply sat over the parapet, fingers tapping the concrete nervously.

You knew he was a suspect — it was obvious — you had no reason to react like this. No reason at all. 

Still, you ran away from her like you did after arguing with Hank. Like you were angry and offended, upset. Why would you—

"Wednesday." Enid's voice stopped her train of thought. She glanced at the she-wolf abruptly, her expression flushed and confused like her roommate had never seen. "Go talk to him."

Silently, Wednesday followed the advice and walked to the balcony with loud steps. Behind her, Thing started to sign to Enid with hushed gestures.

"Y/N"

"What's your family like?" You shot at her; You didn't give her the chance to approach you, you didn't even turn to talk to her. She walked towards you before answering.

"Smothering and embarrassing."

"So they love you." Your voice didn't sound affected, nor angry. It sounded distant. "They love you." You whispered, and Wednesday wouldn't have listened to you if she hadn't just sat by your side.

Your head was turned to the sky darkening, your feet moved in the air as your fingers tapped the rail.

Where were you?

"I could say it's my dream." You said suddenly, low voice and eyes on the heavens. "To have a family like this."

"You don't know them."

"I know you." Your head dropped, but you didn't look back at her. "And I....I think..." Your voice was disappearing. "I think you are..." Wednesday noticed how red your face turned one moment before you shook your head and moved away from her. "I had a family too." You said with more strength in your tone. "After my father, I found Hank and...Rachel." You smiled weakly, and finally turned to Wednesday. Her skin mingled when she saw the sadness in your face. "Hank is not a suspect. He cannot be." Your gaze dropped as your fingers stopped tapping. Slowly, your whole body and countenance seemed to be turning off. "Not after he had done to Rachel....for me."

"I saw your poem." Wednesday told you, voice colder than you wished. "He took you back to the camps."

"He made a deal with the devil. He surrendered in order to keep me alive."

"He gave up. He killed Rachel. He locked you. "

"He—" you choked. "He kept me alive...from her." Your hand unconsciously touched your right rib. "I got hurt when we first escaped and Rachel...wanted to use it. Use me."

Wednesday frowned at your downcast expression.

You were betrayed too. 

How were you not angry?

"But in your poem you blame him. You say you miss her."

"I do." You whispered. "She was desperate, and I still think she didn't mean it. But Hank...He became one of them that night." You wiped a tear away. "He's still my family, but he's bonded to them too."

"How?"

"Through blood." You swallowed dryly. "Now he owns a camp too."

"He's guilty too."

"Y-yes." You turned to her, eyes gleaming with tears. "I don't know what to do."

"He deserves it, Y/N."

"He was used!"

"He made a choice." She retorted firmly. Mercilessly.

You widened at her, lips suddenly clued in a straight line.

She would never have mercy for him, or for anybody. She was not like this.

"He's my brother." Your grunt made Wednesday frown. You sounded, probably for the first time ever, upset. "My family."

"I cannot let him—"

"I know." You cut her off. "I'm only asking for a chance. For a doubt." You felt her hand suddenly; you didn't intend to hold her, nor reach her, but she was sitting closer than you thought. Your skin brushed against her only for a moment. Only before you ask: "Could you?"

"You're naive."

You shook your head, slowly and lazily. It was the response: no, she could not. 

She would never have mercy on Hank.

You accepted defeat with a hard swallow and turned your head to the stars again. With her intervention or not, you'd protect Hank.

But you preferred to have her by your side.

"Yes." She said, and you turned to her so quickly that you almost lost your balance. "Only one." She repeated strictly.

And then she saw that smile again, the same when she said you were friends, ecstatic and electrified. Alive, more than ever, so energetic it made her feel it too. And what she felt made she look away, but she could still hear your happiness when you said:

"Thank you."

X

Fear has become something you got used to: since you first left your father's farm, on the day he took you to the festival, you were afraid. You were afraid because you didn't know what you'd find outside your little world — but you loved it. 

Then you felt afraid again, a few years later, when you had the chance to walk around the forest by yourself. You felt afraid when you understood that the toy in your hands — the very same one the L/N's gave in order to conquer you — was stained with your father's blood. 

You were afraid the night after, when you were completely alone in the camps — and you felt afraid every single night since then. 

Fear guided you, drove you: it made you hide, and it kept you alive this far. You hate it. 

But, tonight, you felt none of it — just like the night before, when you counted the freckles on Wednesday’s hands. When you felt the warmth of her closeness, and the hitch of her breath as she read your writing. Somehow, despite being haunted and hunted together, you felt no fright, and you knew she was responsible for it.

She was brave like no one you've met before — and maybe, just maybe, some part of her courage has rubbed off on you. Just like she was learning to write poems from you, you were learning bravery from her. 

And it was your brand new courage that made you look for her in the middle of the night.

"Wednesday?" You whispered in the dark, not sure if she was awake. As comfortable as you were, laid down on the blanket fortress, you didn't seem able to fall asleep. "I must tell you something."

"Do not thank me again." She hissed, way louder than you. Surprisingly, the she-wolf was still asleep. Her snoring was still louder than yours and Wednesday’s voices. "It's unnecessary and distressing."

"No." You felt your face heating. "It's not that."

"Then say it." Her words were met with silence: suddenly, from her side, Wednesday heard and felt nothing but your shaking breathing. You were closer than she expected, and she was surprised when you moved slightly away.

"That night…" She could feel the sheet slipping under her as you spoke. "When you saw m—the Alp." You corrected yourself hushedly. "It got inside your head."

Wednesday turned her face to you: her features moved fast, attentively in the dark, but she couldn't find you. She could only hear your hoarse, low voice, whispering the last words she wanted  to hear.

"I saw what he did." You paused. If Wednesday could see you, she wouldn't stand the expression in your face, nor understand it: the frowned eyes, scrunched nose, twisted lips. She wouldn't recognize your anger — she had never seen it, after all — but it disturbed your face as much as it burned your body. And she would never comprehend how it did not affect your voice. "And I must tell you that…" Her hand reached you in the pitch dark. "You're wrong." Wednesday's touch made you gasp the words; for a brief second, your tone failed, but you went on, no matter how hard her grip was. 

"You're not unlovable." You held her instead of fleeing: that was what she expected you to do. To shy away from her, from her touch — that was what she wanted to do. "You're not detached."

Her fingers left your skin and you shook. You trembled in the complete dark. But you had to finish. 

"You have a heart that overwhelms you and I—" Your voice cracked. "I…" You closed your eyes and said, "I want to know it."

Wednesday remained out of your sight, and the room suddenly went silent — you saw nothing and heard nothing. Not even Enid's roars. 

"Please" You whispered last. "Would you let me know your heart?"

Coldness involved your burning face as you felt something suddenly coming closer — the dark was not enough to hide Wednesday now. Her hands were on you, and could watch her eyes, only inches away from yours, targeting you. Not with rage, not with determination, but with an unknown gleam that shone even in the darkness. 

And those same pitch black, yet bright eyes closed as her breath engulfed you.

"Guys?" Enid moaned, her claws stretching out and reaching Wednesday's blanket. The Addams girl retreated immediately, and the sound coming from her gritting teeth proved that she was more annoyed than startled. "You fine?"

"I'll kill you." Wednesday roared.

"Oh" Enid yawned. "Sweet dreams for ya"

Sinclair's snores restarted, and your heat finally felt like ceasing. But the coldness didn't leave your skin, then you realized Wednesday's hand was still covering yours. 

"You need to sleep." You felt her grip pulling you in her direction. 

"I don't want to." Either way, you obeyed, moving slowly over the blankets. "I don't want her to end this."

'This' , Wednesday thought again, 'what was this?'

"I won't let it." She spoke before her mind could silence her: her rationale told her she should not, but the heat coming from your body, now laying so close to hers, confused her. Her hand was still on your skin, and she was the one pulling you closer. "I won't let her."

She felt your hair trickling her skin, and she smiled; the smell of dew and old books mingled inside of her lungs. Suddenly, her whole body was filled by your scent, and an uncontrollable smile grew widely in her lips. 

You could only see a glimpse of it and, yet, it was the most beautiful image you have ever seen: Wednesday, laid by your side, smiling blatantly at you. Because of you.

You intertwined your fingers with hers, and her slow breathing soon helped you to relax.

You were smiling too, and enjoying her closeness with serenity: your hands were glued together, as your heads brushed softly. You were close enough to keep each other at safety, at peace. At fondness. 

At warmth and rest. 

"Sweet dreams, Wednesday."

You whispered, almost in her ear, before closing your eyes.

"Sweet dreams, Y/N."

X

"You don't understand what she's like." Rachel hissed in a desperate whisper, running after Hank as he paced over the room, looking for as many remedies as he could find. "We cannot stop now. She'll find us. She'll find Y/N if he—"

"If he doesn't sleep, he'll die." Hank argued back, picking a bottle of alcohol and gathering it with the others medical equipments. "It's out of discussion."

A sob of pain grew louder as they approached you: the bed was soaked with your sweat , and your gritting teeth could be heard from meters away. You were grasping the sheet as if they were your life — your freedom. And in some certain way, they really were; if you blacked out now, the Alp would rise, and the Hexe would find you all. 

If you stayed awake, however, such as you were trying so hard to be now....maybe you wouldn't make it. 

"If he sleeps, we all die." Rachel repeated, in a stronger and deeper voice. "We need to let him, Hank...It's him or us."

"What?"

"Your heard me." Rachel sobbed. "We can come back later, with policemen and weapons. We can free everyone and end this!" You grunted: only a few words made sense to you, but her cries forced you to look up. To look at her. And to notice how painfully she avoided your gaze. Her eyes were locked on a distant figure: Hank, then agitated and reactive, now was quiet, motionless. Rachel watched his back, his almost unnoticeable breathing. She went on: "We can, I swear we will, but only if we survive now!" The boy didn't move. He stood in the dark, completely silent. "Hank, please!"

What happened next was hard for you to understand: you saw a bright  flash of blue light, you heard a roar — maybe Hank's, maybe your own — and you felt a weight. A grip, claws cutting deep into your skin as you tried to scream. 

But it wasn't Hank. Your widened eyes glanced at the creature that made you winch: an werewolf. Rachel's transformed. Her claws and teeth engulfed* you as the blue light approached — your flesh was pierced apart, and when you thought that the cut on your rib would knock you down, the pain coming through your chest awakened you. 

"STOP!" A voice, trembling and low like fire crackling, took over your ears — your mind. The presence of the devil dominated your mind before you could actually see it. The Kigatilik was in front of you, white and curled as always, long claws and fingers being raised as the blood emerged, soaking your clothes. 

You blinked, slowly, painfully: the scene didn't make sense for you; You only recognized the inuit, and its broad, monstrous back covered every glimpse of the werewolf. Hank — now in his devilish form — stood between you and Rachel. He— it forced the beast away, marching over to her until the roars became barks. In the middle of the dark, in the middle of the night — the monsters were fighting over you. Sweat and blood sprinkled over you, mingling with your own. 

You couldn't see much, you couldn't hear much; all you could do was breathe: it was hard and painful, but you managed to — you had to. 

The last thing your understood was:

"Take me." The plea came from a hoarse, sobbing voice. It came from below, from the devil crawling on the floor, on the pool of blood. "Not him. Take me." There was a shadow standing above him. You saw: you knew it. You could see the gleam of its eyes shining in the dark. Like the shadow itself was watching you.

Like a nightmare observing.

Like the Mare.

The Hexe said "Yes."

And it all went black.

[fregget-frou]

You know what.

Every Raudio character is neurodivergent, why? Because I said so.

ExpeciALLY YOU 🫵 IM LOOKING AT YOU:

David, Lasko, Damien, Darlin, Huxley, Starlight, Freelancer, Guy, Caelum!!!

No they don’t all have autism just because they’re my favorites no whaattt

[verflares]

i wanna transplant a lot of how ive written botw/totk link into my og one i think..... mostly just because writing for him last year made me realise how much i enjoy seeing how far you can go with using minimal dialogue + actions and expressions over words to convey thoughts and feelings, both from that pov and from others

[mnemonicmew]

OC-tober: day 6, symbol

Being a little ambitious with this one I suppose, anyway I hope it’s recognisable that this trio (plus group baby) are based on playing card symbols (there’s a joker one too but I didn’t have time to add them, and soo many side characters my god, it is my baby project from middle school)

If anyones interested, more info about these people under the cut

Blue ♢ = Eira Witter, honorary strategist, journalist and only here for the pay check.

Green ♧ = Rosemarie Abebe, full time student and the only one who has time management skills.

Yellow = ♤ Celeste (Cel) Diáz-Gomez, the leader (sort of) overworked local perfectionist who borders on burnout.

Pink = ♡ Olivia (Olli) Ramos, healer and the before mentioned baby (12 y old), shouldn’t be here but is and nobody's happy about it.

White ꕥ (joker/trump card) = ???? (Nobody is sure how sentient that thing even is but they did inspire some nifty horror movies)

So basically co-workers to friends but they're fighting monsters, hurray.

[gryfflepuffinthetardis]

True Colors (Sweet Jane Part Six) — Campbell Bain x Reader

Sweet Jane Episode One: Hey Jude

Sweet Jane Episode Two: Fly Like an Eagle

Sweet Jane Episode Three: You Always Hurt the One You Love

Sweet Jane Episode Four: Fool on the Hill

Sweet Jane Episode Five: Rainy Day in Georgia (But not Georgia Tennant.)

Sweet Jane Episode Six: Let It Be

“The amount of love I have for you will never be understood by others. From the way you touch me, to the look in your eyes. Through all these years you managed to captivate my heart. For this my soul will forever be your home. Mistakes happen, this I know. But the passion we both share erases the worst. Take my hand and come with me. Follow me to this path we both created. It may be unknown to most, but it sure is eternal for us.”

Campbell was trying to cheer up Francine with jokes by Y/N’s next to last day, “Okay, how about this one. A group of loonies go out on a day trip, and on the way back, they stop at a pub for a drink.”

“I think that's enough, Campbell, huh?” Eddie tried but Campbell ignored him.

“One of the loonies comes running up to the nurse saying, 'Nurse, nurse, that barmaid smiled at me!' So the nurse says, 'Well, smile back.' So the loony goes away, but he's back five minutes later, saying 'Nurse, nurse, that barmaid winked at me!' So the nurse says, 'Well, wink back.' So he's away again, but he's back ten minutes later saying ‘Nurse, nurse, that barmaid. she showed me her bosoms.’ So the nurse says, 'Well, show her your nuts!' So he's away again, straight up to the barmaid, and goes—” He made moose antlers on his head with his hands and screaming goofily in Francine’s face and wheezed with laughter but no one else did. “Do you not get it? The nurse says, 'Show her you're nuts', and he does!”

Still Francine had no reaction.

“All right, Campbell.” Eddie said, quietly and Campbell deflated. Then Eddie suggested, “Why don’t you help Y/N pack for tomorrow?”

Campbell nodded and walked to his girlfriend’s room.

“Have they found my kittens yet?” Francine asked.

“Francine, I told you. They were sick.” Eddie told her.

--

Y/N had been called to more lunch meetings with both River and Paula but she refused to tell Campbell what they discussed and since she as his girlfriend could easily distract him with kisses, though he had been a bit more clingy than usual, what with Y/N being discharged and his optimism that he would get a big DJ job, he feared whether or not they’d last but he never questioned the unconfessed love he had for her.

That evening, Eddie still wasn’t there so Campbell and Y/N took over the show. Eddie’s show.

“Well, that's about all we have time for tonight; don't forget to tune in tomorrow night for Campbell Bain's Looney Tunes Show!” He said and played the Looney Tunes jingle. Then Eddie entered, Campbell turned to him, taking his headphones off, “Eddie! Where the hell have you been?”

“Sorry I'm late.” Eddie mumbled.

"Late?" Campbell scoffed, “You've missed the whole bloody show!”

“I've been working. I don't have to catch every one of your shows fae start to finish, do I?”

Campbell and Y/N glared pointedly at Eddie and the soon to be discharged answered, “It was your show.” As Campbell bitterly tossed his headphones on the desk.

“...It was?” Eddie asked.

Campbell, Rosalie, and Y/N gave him pointed looks.

“Look, I'm sorry. I had a few bevvies; didnae want to drive.” Eddie apologized.

“‘A couple of bevvies’?” Campbell scoffed with a disbelieving chuckle and a glance at his girlfriend, “You look like you've been on a three-day binge!”

“Look, Campbell! I'm a salesman. That's what I get paid for. I don't get paid for coming here.” Eddie argued.

“Yeah, now that Francine’s been in a psychogenic coma of grief.” Y/N said, sharply.

Eddie glared at her, pointedly.

“Well, I don't think that's a very professional attitude.” Campbell said, casually, checking his fingernails.

“What do I need a professional attitude for?” Eddie asked, confused.

“For when you go to lunch with Paula Kinghorn.” Campbell said and grinned cheekily at Eddie, “She's been trying to get in touch with you for days!”

“Jesus.”

“I would’ve informed you if you’d been here the past week.” Y/N said.

Campbell got up and went to Eddie, excitedly, “Lunch, Eddie, lunch! And then she said,” He put his imitation of Paulaagain, “‘I probably shouldn't be saying this yet, but I think I'm gonna have good news for ya’.”

“I cannae. You go, Campbell.”

“He can’t.” Y/N said.

“Then you go.” Eddie told her.

“She’s had lunch with me three times. She specifically said she wanted to have lunch with you.” Y/N said.

“I cannae do it.”

“How no?!” Campbell exclaimed, his octaves going up.

“I've been waiting for this all my life. If I went intae lunch and came out with nothing, I don't know what I'd do.” Eddie said, clearly in shock.

“You'll not come out with nothing.” Campbell reassured him.

Aye. Just make sure she pays for lunch.” Rosalie said.

“And trust me, I’ve had lunch her thrice and her assistant six times.”

“Lunch.” Eddie  mumbled.

Campbell turned to his girlfriend, "You've gone out with the assistant six times?"

--

“Campbell…” Y/N groaned that night, “Please, let me get dressed into my pajamas.”

“This is the last night for quite a while I’ll get to spend the night with you.” Campbell whined with his arms around her, pulling her flush against him with her back against his chest.

“Campbell, we’ll be fine. C/N moved in four days ago, she has the essentials unpacked, I’m a fifteen minute drive away. Five if you’re the one driving. It’ll be fine. I’ll visit you every day and by the time you get discharged you’ll have made a name for yourself and you won’t be forced to move to Perth.”

“Don’t go snogging any other boys?” He asked.

She chuckled, “I promise. And I’ve taken self-defense classes now so if another EX/N comes to me, I’ll destroy them.”

“Y/N… I… I…” He felt himself freeze from the inside so he just kissed her.

--

The next day, Campbell was helping Y/N pack as she was leaving after his show when they heard Eddie’s voice shout, “THIS IS MY RADIO STATION!”

They looked at each other and ran out towards the station as they saw Eddie get shoved out of the radio station.

“Eddie?” Campbell asked as they pushed through the doors.

“Bastards.” Eddie murmured.

“Eddie?!”

“Bastards!” Eddie screamed and the couple saw a man in the station.

“Who's he?” Campbell asked.

Eddie passed them as he stormed out, “I’m not having this. I'M NOT HAVING IT!

Y/N went to the door and banged on it but the man gave her a gesture that was rather rude.

“Okay.” She said, irritated and pulled a bobby pin she stole from her cousin out and started to pick the lock before slamming it open.

“Y/N, no…”

--

“I’m just saying you didn’t have to hit him.” Campbell told his girlfriend, some time later as they looked through the records.

“I didn’t hit him. I was… gesturing for emphasis.” She said.

“Well, you gestured him right in the face.” Campbell said but he was smiling at her. He leaned towards her and gave her a kiss, still grinning. She pulled back and he cupped her cheek, deepening the kiss.

“Oh, you beautiful doll, you great big beautiful doll...” Rosalie sang when she came in.

The couple broke apart and looked at her in surprise to see her with her hair curled and make up on her face.

“So. What do you think?" She asked.

"I'm speechless!" Campbell excliamed.

"I have had a complete makeover. Sylvia, in the flat next to mine, used to be a beautician. I'm living in a posh neighborhood now, so I thought I should make the effort."

“Well, are you not worried about chemicals and that?” Y/N asked.

“Sylvia is an obsessive-compulsive as well!” Rosalie said and the couple laughed, breathlessly at this. “If it's all right with her, then it's all right with me. She is a genius, so she is.”

“What have you got in the trolley?” Campbell asked, referring to the cart Rosalie was wheeling as he sat down, pulling Y/N down to sit in his lap.

“My shopping. Just a few things from the wee shop down the road. Take 'em home with me the night.”

“Have you not got shops in your new neighborhood?” Y/N frowned.

“Oh, aye.”

“But then would it not make sense to do your shopping in the local shops?” Campbell asked.

“Aye...” Rosalie sighed, “but they won't serve me.”

“What?!” Campbell and Y/N asked.

“They won't serve anybody from Hill Crest. Not the paper shop. Not the late night shop. Even the local GP's a bit frosty on account of him being chairman of the residents' committee for getting our planning commission reviewed.”

Campbell sighed and said, “Ye cannae stand for that, Rosalie. Ye've got'ae tell them:” He put on his bad American accent again, “You're not gonna take any more o' dis crapola.”

“What American films are you watching?” Y/N laughed and tried her (best) American accent, “You’re not gonna take any more of this crap.”

“Aye! That's what I told the man in the paper shop. But he told me to bugger off! He swore at me, Campbell, which I think was uncalled for.”

“You going to ask them to move you, then?” Y/N asked.

“Move me?! You're joking! I've got a bath and toilet in the same wee room, and a washing machine on the premises, and—a microwave! Do either of you know what a microwave is?” Campbell was about to speak when she cut him off, “You put your dinner in, and them microwaves make the wee molecules jiggle up and down. It's a bit like ECT.”

Then Eddie entered, rather numbly, “Eddie! What do you think?” Rosalie approached him, “Jim said I looked like a film star. One that had been in the Betty Ford clinic once too often, but a film star!”

“You look very nice.” Eddie said, flatly and continued passed Rosalie and then the couple.

“What's up with him?” Rosalie asked.

Eddie turned around to break the news to the three, “They're closing us down.”

Campbell and Y/N spoke in unison.

“How?!” Campbell gasped.

“What!?” Y/N said, getting to her feet.

“To turn this place into a treatment room. That's how the workman was in here. We've got a week to pack up and be out of here.” Eddie explained.

“You mean I'll not be station manager anymore?” Rosalie asked, softly.

“...No.”

Campbell got up and got in Eddie’s face. “What are you talking about? We're not going to lie down and play dead over this, are we? We've built something here, Eddie! When I go round the wards collecting requests, I'm a celebrity! And you know how? Because we give folks a voice! And now the hospital is telling us to shut up?!”

“Well, what can we do?

“We can declare UDI! We can turn ourselves into an independent charity, like most hospital radio stations in the country. Demand a site, and then run the station the way we want to! The only thing stopping us is lack of dosh.”

“That's also the only thing stopping me paying my milk bill.” Rosalie said.

“So we stage a fundraiser like we did before. Ehh... I've got it! A radiothon!”

“You mean like a telethon without any pictures.” Y/N asked.

“Aye.” Campbell said, “We'll broadcast from ten in the morning till ten at night, every day till we raise the dosh. We'll contact mental health charities, we'll enlist celebrity DJs, we'll ensure we get coverage in every newspaper in Glasgow.”

“Campbell, if my name appears in the papers again, I'm out of my job.” Eddie argued.

“Who cares. You're gonna go to lunch with Paula on Monday. You'll have another job.”

“We don't know that, Campbell!” Eddie shouted.

“She said she was going to have good news! Have some faith, Eddie! This is our moment!” Campbell encouraged.

Eddie: Then how do we need to save the station?” Eddie retorted.

Campbell’s smile fell and disappointment was etched over his face, he looked back at Rosalie and Y/N and then back at Eddie and he spoke a disappointed tone, “The station isn't just you and me, Eddie.”

“I cannae come in with you, Campbell.”

“...Aye…” Campbell stepped away from him Well. You with me, Rosalie?

“Aye, I'm with ya.”

Campbell turned to Y/N, “Y/N?”

“Of course. Just because I’m being discharged doesn’t mean I won’t be here to support you.”

He broke his loving gaze from his girlfriend to Eddie, giving him a look of disappointment and a little betrayal.

“Then we'll do it ourselves, Eddie. And I'll talk to Francine as well.”  Campbell seemed to now be having a hard time looking at Eddie.

Eddie looked at Campbell for a long time before wishing him, “...Good luck.”

He exited, walking between Campbell, Y/N, and Rosalie. Campbell refused to look at him, shoving his hands in his pockets before Y/N got on her tip-toes and hugged him, he wrapped his arms around her.

--

“Do you want to talk about it?” Y/N asked Campbell.

“No. I don’t want spend our last night together talking about Eddie.” He sighed, “Come here.” He kissed her, desperately but she pulled back, feeling wetness on his face and saw him trying not to cry. He rested his against her shoulder, sniffling.

“Oh, Campbell. I’m only going to be fifteen minutes away,”

“It’s not fair. Maybe if we could keep having nights like this. I like being there to help you stave off the nightmares. I like waking up from a memory of my dad’s lectures and knowing that you’re there with me lifts me higher than ever before. I like pretending like we’re not just a couple of teenagers in their first… well, healthy relationship. I like you… a lot. I’ve never had anyone who wanted to be around me as much as you do.”

“I like you too.” She dug her fingers into his light auburn hair, “for so long I thought I was broken. EX/N convinced me that I was broken. That I was unlovable, that I was alone in the darkness and I expected to spend the rest of my life in the darkness as more darkness, but then I met you and you shine brighter than the sun in summer.”

“You’re not broken.” He said and he kissed her passionately.

--

As Y/N finished packing up, Campbell hugged her from behind with his face snuggled into the crock of her neck with the occasional kiss to it. She chuckled and turned in his embrace, he immediately started to kiss her slowly.

“Campbell… I’ll be back in… like an hour.” She said in between his kisses.

“Mmm. Too long.” He shook his head.

“I think we’re moving from affectionate young love to clingy.”

“Mmm. I don’t care.”

“Y/N…” Came her cousin’s voice, knocking on the frame of the open door. “Uh, car’s ready.”

“Thanks, C/N. Campbell, I have to go. I’ll be back in an hour.” She said and kissed him before leaving the Saint Jude’s Hospital.

--

Three days later...

Y/N sat next to Campbell as he spoke into the microphone, “The time is two forty-five on day three, hour number twenty-nine of the Saint Jude's Hospital radiothon. In fifteen minutes, we're going to have another two hours of patients' party pieces, including Hector, who'll be doing a selection of his best juggling tricks.” A beat before he added with dry sarcasm, “Well, that should certainly be worth listening to. I'll be back again at five, so keep sending me your requests and dedications, but most of all, send us your dosh, and rescue our radio!”

He played Rescue Me (I don’t know who sings this. I can’t get a Shazam result off of it.) as Rosalie entered, wearing a bandage wrapped around her head, holding a piece of gauze to her face, over her eye.

“Sorry I'm late.” She told them, Y/n had turned around and her jaw was dropped in shock.

“So you should be! I've had…” Campbell started out angry but he cut himself off when saw the bandage and gauze and his eyes widened, “What happened to yeh?

“Ach, Jim came round and we had a... disagreement, but it's all sorted out now.”

“What!?” Y/N asked, outraged.

“Jim hit yeh?” Campbell asked in concern and some outrage.

“No!” Rosalie said quickly and explained, “Some wee boys came over the fence and one of them started making faces at me through the window, so I went out, and we disagreed about whether he was on my property, and then about whether I was a loony who should be locked up, and then he threw the stone, and we disagreed about whether I was gonna let Jim throttle him or not.”

“The kid threw a stone at yeh?” Campbell asked in disbelief.

“Aye, but I'm from Donegal—when a stone hits your head, it's the stone that's in trouble.” Rosalie said.

“Alright, who’s this kid? I’m going to find his parents and beat some sense into them with a bat until they learn to raise their kids right.” Y/N said with complete seriousness.

Then Billy knocked on the open door’s frame

“Hello, Billy.” Y/N said, brightly.

“Hello? I wanted to volunteer to do a party piece?” Billy said.

“Aye! What do you want to do?” Campbell said, positively, picking up the clipboard with all the times on it.

Billy held up a fiddle and proudly said, “I want to play my ukulele.”

“That's a fiddle.” Y/n said.

“...It is?”

Y/N nudged Campbell, ”But you're welcome to play it tomorrow at...” Campbell said, he paused to check for an unscheduled time slot for Billy, “quarter past six. Is that okay?”

“Aye, quarter past six!” Billy agreed.

“Don't forget your fiddle.” Y/N said.

“My what?” Billy asked.

Y/N sighed, giving up and said, “...Your ukulele.”

Billy, grinning, then exited.

“How's it been going, anyway?” Rosalie asked once Billy was gone.

“Desperate.” Campbell sighed, placing the clipboard down, “It's been like that,” He jabbed his thumb after Billy, “all day.” He ran his fingers over his face in exasperation, “Loads of volunteers to sing the Postman Pat theme in eleven different languages. But where's our celebrity DJs? Where's our star interviews? Where's the bloody press?”

“It’s kind of last minute, babe.” Y/N said, running her hand through his hair in the way she knew comforted him and he rested his head on her shoulder.

“But the contributions have been pouring in. They've been slipping them under the door. And a whole load have just arrived in with the post.” Rosalie said, holding up  a stack of letters.

“How much have we got so far?” Campbell asked, lifting his head up with Y/N’s hand still in his hair.

“Ninety-seven pounds and twenty-seven pence.”

Campbell rolled his eyes and sighed before plopping his head back on Y/N’s shoulder, “We may have to do something drastic soon.”

--

Y/N drove Campbell to Eddie’s the next day and knocked on his apartment door.

Eddie, looking like he had woken up in a ditch that morning, opened the door.

“Eddie...?” Campbell asked. Eddie blinked from the light and nodded into his apartment, silently inviting them inside and opened the door. “You look terrible.”

“Aye... I had a few bevvies last night.”

“Uh… you mind if I make some coffee?” Y/N asked, figuring this is what Eddie needed at the moment.

“Aye, 's through there. 's nae milk, though.” He said.

Campbell rolled from the heels to the balls of his feet as Y/N filled a kettle with tap water. “The radiothon's dying on its feet.”

“Surprise, surprise.” Eddie said, dryly.

“The builders are supposed to be coming in at two o'clock tomorrow. And if we're not out of there by then, they're going to throwus out. So we've decided to occupy the station.” Campbell told Eddie.

“Campbell... have you finally really lost your mind?” Eddie asked, “Who's gonna occupy it?”

“Me, Y/N,” Campbell said, glancing behind him and jabbing his thumb at his girlfriend who had placed the kettle down and appeared in the doorframe, “and Rosalie. And you, I hope.”

“Nae chance.” Eddie scoffed as Campbell sat on the radiator.

“Eddie, I've thought it all out! It's the only way to save the station. I've told all the newspapers! They're all going to be there! We are going to turn this into a front page incident.”

“Campbell, I told you, I don't wantae make the front page. What I wantae dae is keep my job.” Eddie said, loudly.

“Eddie, you built that station from nothing! How can you let that slip away without a fight?” Campbell argued.

“Because I've got bills tae pay!” He got up and went through his mail stack of bills, “Electricity bill, gas bill, phone bill—which my dear grandmother managed to run into three figures before going off to Lithuania with every spare penny I had to give. And because, although I have lost more jobs in my life than you have had manic episodes, Campbell, I could make a lot of money now! I could get respect for the first time in my life!” He was now yelling, “You think I'm gonna give that all up for the dubious honor of going down with my ship?!” He walked over to the small balcony.

“Eddie, d'you no see that job's killing you?” Campbell asked.

“No, Campbell, my dreams!”  Eddie argued before repeating softly, “My dreams are killing me.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him but bit back her comeback as Campbell walked to Eddie, leaned against the banister and asked, “So... what did Paula say, then?”

“She said there's a slot coming up and they want you to take it.”

Campbell’s eyes widened briefly, “You mean they want us to take it.”

“No, they see it as a solo slot.” Eddie clarified.

“And-and they want Campbell to take it? Only Campbell?” Y/N asked.

“I'm no gonna take it!” Campbell said at once.

“Campbell, take it.”

“We'll keep at it, Eddie, contact some other stations, do another demo—”

“Campbell, do you wantae end up like me?” Eddie asked, looking Campbell in the eyes, and then said, empathetically. “Take. The. Job. For yourself. For Fergus, eh?” He paused, “I promised Paula, I'd make you take it; I don't wantae break my word. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got tae go tae work.”

Campbell hesitated but left while Y/N stayed, waiting until he was out of earshot.

 “By the way, it’s bullshit, Eddie. Your dreams aren’t killing you. Your boss’ expectations are killing you. Your grandmother’s expectations are killing you. Evelyn MacDonald’s killing you. That asshole from your work is killing you. Everyone who’s ever put you down is killing you because you’re letting them. Like how I let EX/N kill me every day. If you let your dreams go, you’re letting them kill you. You’ll end up like Fergus. Cold and alone in the ground with a rock with a birthday carved into it that I’m pretty sure is wrong and a funeral mostly full of people who before couldn’t even be bothered to remember your name before but come to convince themselves that they weren’t totally absorbed in their own lives to care about someone who’s now gone.”

-- 

For What It's Worth by Buffalo Springfield played as Campbell spoke into the microphone back at the studio. “This is Campbell Bain, and it's D-Day for Saint Jude's Hospital Radiothon. That's 'D' for Desperation Day, because we are still two thousand, eight hundred and fifty-six pounds and fifty-three pence short of our target. So this is it, loonies. If you've got a rich uncle, then today's the day to remind him of that filing clerk he once took to Blackpool, the name of the cheap hotel where they stayed, and the type of barnyard animal that was involved.” Y/N giggled into her sleeved hand as behind them, Rosalie stopped counting the meager donations and gave him a look like, what the hell? “We are here for you, loonies, and we're not going anywhere.”

--

Some time later, Campbell’s attention was brought through the window by the flashing of cameras and he spotted some men wearing hard hats.

“Y/N! Rosalie!” He shouted, bringing the girls’ attention to them.

Rosalie slammed the door shut and Y/N bolted the door shut.

“Ha! Now, not even the sonic screwdriver will get through that.” Y/N laughed with a triumph flourish and she gave the man a rude gesture through the window.

Rosalie and Y/N started to stack boxes and anything else they could find and move against the door as Campbell spoke on the radio.

“The loonies may not have taken over the asylum, but they've seized control of the radio station. “This is Campbell Bain reporting live from the hospital radio occupation, where we have locked ourselves into the station and have refused to stop broadcasting until our future is assured.”

Y/N spotted Stuart, Isabel, and another assistant enter the hallway from through the window.

“So talk to your friends, your relatives, your voices! Hospital radio must survive!”

Outside the station, the patients cheered.

--

Revolution played on the speakers as the patients danced. Y/N spotted Evelyn MacDonald pushed through the crowd towards Stuart, “Stuart! What are all these patients doing in the corridor? Get them out of here!”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Evelyn looked to see Y/N looking out through the window, knocking and then she waved with a fake smile before giving her an extremely rude gesture.

“Why are they still broadcasting? Can you not you cut their electricity?” She shouted at a workman and then she went to a reporter, “look, this is NHS property, and I’m going to have to ask you and your friends to leave immediately.”

A few minutes later Campbell announced, “That's exactly what this is, a revolution! Because even now the forces of sanity are massing outside the window, armed with the full weight of the Scottish Mental Health and the Criminal Trespass Act. But we can beat them, loonies! Because you know what we've got? Pride! We are loonies, and we are proud!”

Reach Out I'll Be There played as the police arrived and a policewoman announced through a megaphone to the reporters, “You are trespassing on NHS property. I must ask you to leave immediately.” Campbell looked absolutely delighted. “You are trespassing on National Health property. I must ask you to leave immediately.”

Campbell kissed Y/N on the cheek in triumph and defiantly slammed the fader on the mixer up as loud as it could go.

Then the station window started to open, making them turn to see Eddie opening the window from the outside and he climbed inside.

Grins appeared on the faces of Campbell, Rosalie, and Y/N’s faces.

“You are trespassing on National Health property. I must ask you to leave immediately. If you do not leave immediately, you will be arrested and charged.”

“We're gonna be arrested.” Campbell exclaimed, excitedly and he hugged ecstatically, “We're gonna be charged! This is the most glorious day of my life!!”

He turned to Y/N and placed his hands on her hips loosely, he opened his mouth but nothing came out other than, “I… I…” He didn’t want to scare her off and after her last “relationship”.

“I love you.” She said, putting her arms around his neck.

He blinked and then he grinned and said, “I love you too.” He kissed her when the police broke the station window with a fire extinguisher and opened the door, pushing the obstacles away.

They hauled, Campbell, Y/N, Eddie, and Rosalie out as the reporters took pictures as the patients booed them. Campbell beamed at the cameras before they passed a now awake from her psychological coma Francine.

--

A week later

Y/N beamed from the other side of the radio station glass of Radio Scotland as Campbell laughed at some hate mail as music played softly, “That was Hit the Road, Jack, a special dedication to me, wouldja believe, from an anonymous listener in Bishopbriggs, who writes: ‘I know what you are, and you should be locked up and have your balls cut off.’ So, Gold Boppers, write in to next week's mailbag and let me know what you think. Do you want me to be locked up, or just have my balls cut off, or do you want me to be locked up and have my balls cut off? This is Campbell Bain's Gold Show, so don't touch that dial, just let it be.”

He looked at Y/N through the glass and returned her smile, for the first time in a long time, both of them felt full and truly happy.

[logan-w]

Can I be like you? I, too, go nonverbal for long periods of time

Selective mutes unite!