#fatal-optimist

[tunakat]

I think I might know you?? I used to talk to someone who looked just like you so long ago

m4y83 u h4v3, 1dk 7h0 1 h4v3 73rr18l3 m3m0ry l0l0l0l

[sjweminem]

The energy you put into your love posts about fictional men is so inspiring and makes you my favorite blogger on here

[whimsicalcotton]

two broke girls is like a yuri manga no i will not be taking questions

[jyuanka]

one must accept their fate as a writer who only updates once a year.

[laylakeating]

no help i agree i should’ve rephrased i guess i more so meant i didn’t expect them to actually make him give her a chance or like her in any way in s2 but they did do it. i def don’t think they were a thing they were just hanging out and he was trying something new (like he said he wanted to do and clearly didn’t even like her)!

but yea i do agree i don’t think val and ricky make any sense especially bc she’s a one season character (i don’t see how she’d fit in s4) and i think they would have hinted at it at least? plus meg said most of her scenes are with matt i’m just paranoid ig LMAOO

omg no anon you're fine !!

tbh i think it's kind of interesting that they DID have him give her a chance after s2 and for s3. i think it's even MORE interesting that in all the scenes we saw them together it's like ricky's trying to convince himself that he likes her...when it's clear to the audience that he really really doesn't. it's almost like he was trying to overcompensate for something.......all i'm saying is there's a reason why we call lily a knock off gina !!!

yess!! if val does appear in s4 (based on nothing but vibes btw) i think it'd be in a limited capacity and almost certainly with ej. and you're right it would've been in the trailer - a GLIMPSE of it, at least. a love square is pretty good bait, but they've kept val's character fairly under wraps so it'll be cool to see how everything goes down, esp with ej.

either way i think she's going to be fairly instrumental in the love triangle this season so we'll have to see how that plays out.

[libertyvigil]

Russian opposition are often really a breath of fresh air even though they are fragmented and sometimes not as focused and brave as they need to be. They see beyond the virulent hatred of the zorcs and hate only the government and its supporters. They love their people and they like Ukrainians. They don't hate them and have good things to day about them (I exclude anyone who is supposedly antiwar but pro annexation, pro keeping annexed territories, if they exist)

And they actually take action whether it's through words or deeds, some speaking up through social media and risking long prison terms (and possibly worse) or fighting alongside Ukrainians, or working behind the scenes, such as saboteurs. And the people who have helped filtered Ukrainians escape russia.

[romanmarble]

I passionately love how Mike Schmidt was characterized and written in this movie, you’re given the question from the beginning, “who in their right mind would work in a horrid, low paying job at some Chuck E. Cheese place?” And here he is, a hypersomiac with a ridiculed life of set-point trauma, who is fighting with the stakes of raising his sister and leaving his brother.

He lives day to day with a set night to night routine, the optimistic ‘Visit Nebraska’ poster changing throughout the movie into one of a infamous portal into the outer world. (A crossing of the threshold), in which Mike cannot go back from once he’s fully dedicated his nights too. The dream theory is an iconic twist, because it became an infamous theory amidst the FNAF community, but in the same manner—Mike wants this dream theory to become reality, to reach into the unknown warnings of a mind and making it known.

I love how the only time he engages in violence is too protect, whilst other enemies do so to prevent or to murder. (Even then, the first encounter of the fountain, his tunnel-vision of loss corrupts that pure notion, too.)

His motives are selfless, passionate, he wants to find his brother’s kidnapper, yet that turns into a malformed selfishness, a grief, (the fatal flaw); Mike wants his family back whole, but dangers his sister in return. (confirmation follows the physical touch of his brother’s cheek). Mike becomes a snake that eats his own tail, but not in a negative way, Normally, it comes to the forefront, and the protag’s friend/Allies helps the protagonist transform, but Mike doesn’t have that—he can’t have that. In a Shakespearean ordeal, His parents are gone and dead, and his sister is talking to nothing. It takes a visceral raking of his physical to transform his mental, yet, in the dream world alone.

Mike is a tragic character because he has all the notion to be dead or gone, but he isn’t, and he won’t. that effort of him trying, with his sister, with his work, with his aunt, stops the security guard from spiraling, no matter how thin the thread is.

[nottobehornyonthemain]

Crowley’s fatal flaw is curiosity. He is fundamentally an optimist, although he tries not to be. He likes to explore, and snoop around places he shouldn’t go, and ask questions, and use the funny new human technologies. He likes watching things grow. He’s a creator.

His first gift to humanity was knowledge.

Now Aziraphale is fundamentally a realist, even a pessimist. Before he even knew that it was possible to Fall, he was afraid about what seeming to go up against The Plan could mean. He worries about the potential horrible outcomes of everything, even going unarmed into the wilderness. He wants to keep everyone safe, even if that sometimes means doing hard things to ensure an ultimate good. He’s a protector.

His first gift to humanity was a weapon.

One of these beings usually sits in a shop devoted to the passing on of knowledge, but doesn’t actually want to pass it on to anyone. One of these beings refuses to bring harm any innocent thing when there is a chance he can reduce suffering.

Heaven has assumed that Aziraphale’s fatal flaw is that he’s soft, and weak willed. That he’s someone easy to manipulate. But they’re wrong. Because Aziraphale is not soft, and his fatal flaw is his inability to compromise on his beliefs.

Now, I don’t know about anyone else. But to me, one of those two beings sounds a lot more unpredictable and dangerous than the other, and it’s not the one currently crying to Michael Bublé in a car full of plants. The one I’m more concerned about is currently being given the tools to bring about the end of the world.

And God knows what he did with the last tool heaven gave him.

[thebadboyfanclub]

I Would Like That (Harwin x Reader)

Another Harwin imagine and this was actually really interesting cause I wanted to write a slow burn with an arranged marriage trope, I hope you like it.

Lady (y/n) Tower was a wonderful match for Harwin, a noble house of the river lands and allies to Harrenhal, his Father Lyonel did not want to discuss it further with Harwin, especially after the whispers amongst the red keep of Harwin's living princess Rhaenyra pregnant, the same that this would bring to house Strong would be fatal.

(Y/n) traveled to Kings landing to meet with her intended, Harwin was wildly disinterested but respectful, it was to his knowledge that the lady did not have a choice in this nor was it her scheme to be ripped away from Princess Rhaenyra.

“May I present the third of my four children, lady (y/n)”

“My lord”

(Y/n)s voice was as light as a feather as she bowed before her future lord husband and good father, Lyonel was impressed, the lady was young and attractive, and she would stand well next to his boy.

(Y/n) took in Harwin for the very first time, the rumors were true he looked quite powerful, he also looked as strong as he was handsome, with curls that fell loosely and deep blue eyes, she immediately pictures little children that inherited his eyes.

Harwin took her hand in his to place a kiss on the back of her palm, some would say it was a good start for the couple, however (y/n) only felt coldness radiating from his lips, he hadn’t said a thing and he did not appear to be excited or even interested.

She shifted from one foot to the other due to the uncomfortable aura that lingered within them, Lyonel waited for a minute to give his son a chance but to no avail.

“You must be tired, the journey is certainly long and we deeply appreciate you for coming all the way here, let us show you to your chamber”

“That sounds lovely”

(Y/n) had a target on her back, to which Harwin hated himself for it, the minute they were married he felt responsible for her, (y/n) is kind, poised, and optimistic, to be around her was like being in the sun, her warmth engulfed you, unfortunately for her a few days after their wedding princess Rhaenyra gave birth to Jacaerys Velaryon, a boy that looked almost identical to Ser Harwin.

One could imagine the embarrassment that ran through her veins when she had to bow before the princess and her husband and congratulate the couple for their heir, still, she smiled fondly at them before she peeked at the child, her hand landed on the top of his head to caress the babe's hair lovingly.

“Congratulations princess, one day I hope to be as lucky as you”

Some say it was a jab to Rhaenyra, others it was a secret pain that bled (y/n)s heart to death, whatever the case may be Harwin felt the urge to do better by her, every time his gaze fell upon her he was constantly reminded of how he was underperforming in his wedlock.

“I have arranged for us to leave when spring comes, harrenhal is lovely this time of year”

“I do not understand”

“We are going to settle to Harrenhal, I will take my place as my father's heir and you will be by my side”

(Y/n) did not respond, she just furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to find the reason behind his new plan, ever since they were wed Harwin had not only been the commander of the city watch, but he was also sworn knight to Princess Rhaenyra, how could he leave everything behind?

Harwin almost sensed the questions that occupied her brain and reached from his chair to grab the hand that was resting on the arm of her chair, Harwin and (y/n) were not usually physical with each other, as much as she would love to be Harwin had never shown that type of intention.

“I haven’t done right by you, it is time for me to treat you a lady Strong deserves to be treated”

(Y/n) smiled as her heartstrings played like the sweetest of harps and the words rested on her mind, it felt like a beacon of hope had finally been lit in her life.

She nodded before she bit her lip to hide her excitement, she could already imagine telling that story to her beloved daughter when she comes of age and must marry, to bestow optimism for what’s to come to her and show her that there is always room for improvement.

Unfortunately, one mustn’t know all the plans that the future holds.

Harwin had gotten into a fight with a commoner while he was on watch and had managed to slice in the belly, along with a pretty heavy wound on his head, his fellow knights had dragged him to his wife, waking up in the hour of the bat to see your husband bleeding and unconscious caused her to go in hysteria, she had woken up the entire castle with her screams and luckily the maester as well.

(Y/n) tended to him for a fortnight, sat by his bed awake, and cleaned his bandages every two hours like clockwork, the damage was not fatal but it was serious and if it got infected the cost would be his life, Harwin would wake up only to be fed by her, soup, water and bread, that was all he was allowed to consume since they had once tried to give him meat and he threw up almost immediately, his stomach could not handle it yet.

“(Y/n)”

“It’s me my love, time for supper”

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around him like the maester had shown her to make it easier for him to sit up, Harwin grunted as he felt his flesh stretched which was an extremely unpleasant sensation alongside how fragile he had become.

“Here, I managed to convince the maester to let us add fish, I know eating the same thing can be boring”

“Nothing can be boring when you are the one that serves it, dear (y/n)”

(Y/n) could already detect the blood rushing to her cheeks as she was blushing, how could she not? Harwin had been in and out of consciousness for days, barely being able to speak, now as he slowly was coming up on his feet and (y/n) could listen to the sweet sound of his voice was a treat by itself, let alone to listen to such lovely compliments.

(Y/n) dipped the spoon on the plate before she blew slightly to cool the substance and then fed it to Harwin, the warmth of the soup brought comfort to him, and the combination of food with (y/n) looking at him with her deer-like eyes as she waited for a reaction was getting his spirits high.

“Oh I remember you, you were right, fish makes it better”

“If you digest it properly maester said that we can also try to help you walk, I was thinking of the gardens since the weather has been generous the past days”

“Not more than you, you have been more than generous to me”

“It is my duty as your wife to tend to you”

“No, it isn’t, you have been ridiculed by the court, you could have despised me and left me for dead”

“Harwin-“

“You endured it all, with grace at that, now you came to my aid and have been nothing but wonderful to me, you are more than I could ever ask for”

“You are not a bad man Harwin, I understand I was not the lady you would have chosen to be your lady wife”

“Indeed, I would not have picked you”

The scrunch of the nose that Harwin saw (y/n) does was enough to help him recognize that (y/n) was also hurting, badly, she thought that she came second and perhaps that stood true when they first met.

(Y/n) was about to feed him another spoonful before Harwin stopped her, once again he grabbed her hand but this time he brought her knuckles up to his lips to place a kiss full of endearment.

“Because I was a blind man that did not see the blessing that is you, I am delighted that my father was smart enough to see the gem that you are. I love you”

Tears came to her eyes as the weight that had kept her from breathing was finally lifted off her chest, she deserved a round of applause for how well she had kept it together for this long, only the Gods know the number of times (y/n) had cried herself to sleep from the unbearable burden of having to wed a man that already had a firstborn bastard and with a princess at that, she kept her spirits high for the sake of her family and to restrain herself from going insane.

“You healed my wounds, I believe it’s time that I heal yours, what do you say?”

“I would like that”

Her voice cracked as the tears ran down her cheeks for Harwin to reach and wipe away, it was hushed but it was enough of a response for Harwin to smile at her, silence fell upon them but as they stared back at one another all that needed to be said was there, to Harwin's hand resting upon hers and the fond grins.

They both experienced the relief of beginning a new chapter as they both held the pen together, their vows coming to fruition as they spiritually became one, accepting one another as someone to love and hold.

As (y/n) kept feeding her husband with the ritual of slightly blowing each spoonful for him slowly but surely the soup vanished from the dish and Harwin felt better than ever, it was perfect timing for his father to walk in.

“How are you today son?”

“Much better, my dear has been taking good care of me”

Lyonel came to a halt at the scene that unfolded before him, (y/n) placed the tray aside and Harwin stretched his arm to find her hips and pull her next to him, making (y/n) yelp from the surprise and plop right next to him.

Lyonel admired his good daughter ever since he met her, she was perfect for Harwin and the way she cared for him and stood by him was admirable, to say the least, now that Harwin had seen to look past his nose and become the man he should have been months ago to her was wonderful news, Lyonel nodded once as a smirk played on his lips.

“I see I am interrupting, I shall leave you to it”

“No, you are not interrupting my lord”

“Father with all due respect I would like to spend some time with my lady wife, in private”

Requests are open!

[mikavlcs]

Elysium

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x cryomancer!reader

Summary: After realizing her untimely feelings, Wednesday pushes you away, but the arrival of a certain dance proves that she may have made a fatal mistake in doing so. 

Warnings: ooc!wednesday(??? i honestly can’t tell), tyler galpin, baby’s first attempt at a recurring metaphor

Word count: 8k (...)

Notes: so...i don’t completely hate this lol. shout out to the anon that requested this, i had fun with it! hope you enjoy<3

Masterlist | Part 1

Wednesday was happy to be alone.

Being alone was the most natural thing in the world. A necessity that she could never dream of giving up for anyone. Other, lesser human beings may have been social creatures, but not Wednesday. She found peace in solitude, happiness in the silence that came with self-induced isolation.

She was a solitary island surrounded by an ocean that she had no interest in ever exploring.

So in order to maintain her seclusion she built the walls around her island up so high that they obscured the sun and surrounded them with wooden spikes for anyone dumb enough to approach to impale themselves on for her entertainment.

The only people she would ever open up to was her family on the incredibly rare occasions that she allowed it, but other than that, no one was ever let inside. Her walls stood tall, strong, and impenetrable.

Of course, despite her best efforts to fend off intruders, there were always the occasional daredevils that liked to see how close they could get to the fire without being burned.

Enid, it seemed, was one of those people, brazenly ignoring her warnings and threats and advancing toward her barricade. She’ll learn eventually, Wednesday supposed.

But never had she seen someone be so unbothered by her defenses until she met you.

Because you didn’t try to approach or swim onto her shore, nor did you comment on the height of her walls or the myriad of weapons crowded around them.

No, you seemed happy to just float out in the open ocean and engage with her from there, utterly content to wait for her to come out to you instead of forcing the opposite.

It was odd. But Wednesday held that same opinion for you in general.

You were a peculiarity, different in a way she hadn’t quite encountered before. Both because of your abilities and personality.

In Wednesday’s opinion, your powers were something you had much too little pride in considering how versatile they truly were.

From the solid, nearly impervious walls you could build within seconds, to the various weapons you could make—your powers had many applications that Wednesday was more than happy to take advantage of when allowed.

(She had even seen you turn your arm into solid ice. Only once, and you could only make it to the middle of your bicep, but it was impressive, nonetheless. Certainly something she could find a use for in the future.)

And that wasn’t even mentioning their practical everyday effects.

Wednesday had been told that her presence metaphorically chilled a room, but you did it literally without even meaning to. To the point where some classrooms had to turn the heat on early this year because of students’ complaints about your effects on the temperature.

Personality-wise, you were a bit warmer but not overwhelmingly so. You were friendly, but not overbearing as her roommate could often be. Positive, but not to the point where you lacked realism.

You were missing the innocence and naivete that most others your age immaturely grasped onto. 

While you were still what she would classify as an optimist, it was apparent that the world had sunk its teeth into you and ripped away something fundamental.

Not enough to break your spirit, but enough for you to know what it truly meant to suffer.

And that gravity that you held, that perfect point of neutrality you maintained, made you more tolerable than anyone else in that prison of a school.

You were peculiar. Unlike anyone Wednesday had seen or met before. You held within you the most stunning mixture of warm and cold that she’d ever seen, like a winter’s first sunrise.

You never offered up anything about yourself nor did you try to push her for any personal details. You simply did as she asked of you, helped her achieve her goals without asking for anything in return.

Whenever you were with her you seemed content to just…be.

It was so atypical, so exceptionally strange that she couldn’t help but keep you around. Couldn’t stop her feet from traveling down that familiar woodland path that you would inevitably be sitting just off of.

Over days and weeks, she found herself stepping outside her walls and slowly inching toward the shoreline, feet traversing over the damp sand to get just the slightest bit closer to you. But for the most part, she was able to refrain from ever touching the water.

The Outreach Day incident was a turning point.

Wednesday wasn’t sure why, but there was a fundamental paradigm shift in her relationship with you after that day.

She hadn’t told you the horrors that befell Mary that night, but there were inklings of it. The spilled blood on the paper, the use of that same blood to sign her name at the bottom. She showed you that for a reason.

It was a warning of sorts. Not a show of power, but a display of what she was capable of. 

And you didn’t run, you accepted the letter and all its implications with a smile and possibly the sincerest thank you Wednesday had ever received in her life.

That specific night stuck with her for weeks afterward.

It felt like that was the point when she allowed herself to step off the firm ground of the shore and wade into uncharted waters with you.

The worst part was that she didn’t even notice until the effects translated into physical symptoms.

The first was an irregularity in her heartbeat. An arrhythmia caused by the sight of your soft, crooked smile.

It jolted her in the moment, but she wrote it off as a once-off, an anomaly. Until it happened again and then again and again, all while in your presence. And that wasn’t the only thing.

There was a growing warmth in her chest that accompanied the thought of you, one powerful enough to combat your natural frigidity. And it seemed that when you were around her, the very air between you electrified, sending sparks up her veins.

Not to mention the subtle shortness of breath and nerves that persisted in your presence.

These instances didn’t scare her, but they did draw her concern. She took note of all her symptoms and did as much research as she could, but there was no disease or sickness she could find that matched what she was experiencing.

That left the next most logical conclusion—sabotage. Considering all of these oddities happened when she was with you, that theory was somewhat plausible. But she had a hard time believing it.

Motive was the first thing that didn’t add up. Why would you want to do this? And with such an ineffective method, it made no sense. What even was your methodology here? Poison?

Wednesday was a self-taught master of poisons. She had ingested nearly every toxin she was able to get her hands on to both study its effects firsthand and build an immunity. There was no poison on the planet that Wednesday wouldn’t be able to identify in seconds, let alone any that would actually be able to incapacitate her, so that didn’t track either.

There were other holes in this theory as well. The unusual electricity, for instance. Sure, your powers were elementally based, but you could only create and bend ice to your will, not electric currents.

And generally, she just found it hard to believe that you would do anything nefarious to her.

She decided she would push the issue to the back of her mind. It wasn’t actively impeding her ability to function in any meaningful way, so it would wait until the current investigation was laid to rest, a mystery to be solved after the monster was found.

But everything finally clicked weeks later, when Eugene was guiding them to a cave pictured in a drawing she stole from Xavier, one of her current suspects.

Eugene was leading a few paces ahead while the two of you lingered behind, strides matching the others perfectly. He was going on about the insect life local to the area. Wednesday had little interest, but you indulged him, asking questions and listening with a smile.

She preferred to just listen to you both, stealing occasional glances at you while you laughed along with Eugene.

It was only when she caught herself pondering how well you would get along with her brother, how much Pugsley would enjoy the company of someone like you that the realization hit her with all the force of an incoming bullet train.

The “symptoms” she’d been experiencing for the past months were not indicative of any kind of medical issue, but instead of something else. Something far, far worse.

For it was a sign that she had become a hypocrite, that she had gone off and done exactly what she swore to her mother she would never do. Just like that her world was turned upside down and she was left to reevaluate everything that she knew about herself.

She didn’t realize she had stopped in the middle of the forest until you entered her direct line of sight, stepping in front of her with worried eyes.

“Hey, are you alright?”

A harsh swallow and hard blink were all she needed to regain her bearings, but she still couldn’t quite meet your eyes.

“I’m fine.” She walked past you, discarding the worried looks you were giving her.

The rest of the afternoon went without issue, even gathering a critical piece of DNA evidence from the monster, but the revelation weighed heavily on her from then until deep in the early hours of the morning.

Troubled, she lay awake, the resting shadows of Enid and Thing taunting her from their respective places in bed and atop her desk. But sleep was the furthest thing on her mind then, no matter how much she wished it was.

Instead, she was stuck replaying every moment that she had spent with you, wondering when and how she had wandered so far from the safety of her shore.

The water was up to her chest now, lapping at her chin roughly. You were there, encouraging her to swim out farther with you, but Wednesday was at a standstill.

She was in far too deep to ignore, and she had to choose between swimming back to shore now without you or risking you letting her drown beneath the tempestuous waves. And as tempting as your invitation was, Wednesday had to choose the option she knew guaranteed her safety.

So the next day, for the first time since she had stepped foot in the forest, Wednesday avoided the familiar path that led to you.

Both to and from, she walked the opposite side of the woods, the unfamiliar trees doing little to assuage the harsh stinging in her chest.

You approached her about it after classes the next day, confusion and curiosity abound, but she forced herself to keep walking. Even as your words died and your face fell, she kept one steady foot in front of the other until she made it back to her dorm.

Wednesday preferred to be alone, it was the optimal state of being in her mind. Without the burden of others’ emotions and weaknesses, she was free to do whatever she pleased. But that wasn’t what it felt like now.

Instead, the lack of your presence felt like a burden and weighed down on her like a thousand stones on her back every time she stepped into the woods without you. Sweat formed on her skin even in the brisk autumn breeze.

She found the world was far too warm without you near.

In truth, she wasn’t sure what was worse, the sudden separation or the fact that you didn’t even protest against it.

Though she avoided you in the woods, seeing you around school was inevitable. But even when you sat next to her in class, you never tried to confront her about her recent behavior. You just…accepted it.

Anyone else would think that you didn’t care, that you were unbothered by her absence but Wednesday knew better. She knew you.

She saw the way you walked the halls with downcast eyes, noticed the near-permanent sorrowful frown you wore wherever you went.

It was clear that you were affected by her decision but chose to do nothing about it.

For some reason, that bothered her nearly as much as the distance did. You weren’t scared of her, so why were you acting like you were now? It made no sense.

Though she wouldn’t be inclined to admit it aloud, you were powerful. Between the nature of your powers and your near-perfect control over them, you were more than capable of demanding answers if you really wanted to. And yet you didn’t.

It nagged at her during the day, incessantly whispered in her ear at night, keeping her awake.

She was half-tempted to ask. The part of her that cared for you latched onto it, wanting any excuse to see you and be near you again.

But she didn’t. Because she made her choice.

Wednesday was back to being alone, safe on the desolate shores of her island with her stark walls, and she would have to learn to accept it once again.

-

A considerable amount had happened over the span of a week.

In terms of her case, Xavier had officially been promoted to prime suspect. Meaning that she had been sneaking around him to gather evidence for the better part of the week.

She had to relocate her crime board to the Hummer’s shed because of Enid’s impossibly weak stomach, and somehow, one of the largest thorns in her side was the imminent arrival of the school’s yearly dance—the Rave’n.

An event both you and she initially decided not to attend in order to further your investigative efforts but…circumstances changed.

She very nearly had to go with Xavier. An attempt to raid his personal art shed ended with him finding her there and, to cover her tracks, she was forced to ask him to the dance. But after getting caught inside his art shed only days later, that disaster was thankfully called off.

At least she successfully managed to do what she went there for in the first place—steal something with his DNA.

Now, she was trying to convince the stubborn sheriff to run both the claw and the cloth with Xavier’s blood then cross-reference the DNA to see if they matched, but of course, he refused.

The possible answer to her mystery was a hair’s width away and the only thing holding her back was the oversized ego of an old man. Typical.

Just as she was about to walk out, he agreed to run her evidence, and for the first time in seven days, she felt like she could breathe. Finally, after months of chasing this mystery, concrete answers were on the horizon. It was a refreshing change of pace.

(There was only one thing missing…)

Wednesday walked out of the sheriff’s office with only the forming hypothesis about her suspect to keep her company.

Thing refused to come with her. He had been far less cooperative since she’d started avoiding you and as annoying as his moods could be, she knew she deserved it, so she let him rebel.

As long as he still assisted her in her investigation when needed, he could do whatever he wanted.

Against her better judgment, she wondered if he was with you. He had immediately taken a liking to you, always trying to rope you into his elaborate schemes when she brought you to her dorm to aid in her research efforts.

So it wouldn’t be implausible to assume that he had been in contact with you since she had cut you off. She wondered if he knew how you were doing. If he would actually tell her if she asked.

After what she’d done, she wondered if she even deserved to know.

“Hey, Wednesday, wait up!”

She paused, annoyance already coursing through her veins because she knew that voice. Turning, she was met with the sight of Tyler Galpin jogging over to her from across the street.

A mixture of annoyance and unease coursed through her. She was tempted to just leave—dealing with one Galpin had already drained her limited patience—but the inherent intrigue kept her in place.

Tyler was an enigma to her, a contradiction that was made all the more interesting when put in contrast to his father.

Sheriff Donovan Galpin was a dogmatic, stubborn prick at the best of times. Truly one of the most inherently irritating men Wednesday had ever had the misfortune of interacting with. 

But he was a genuine man.

He was passionate about his job, upfront about what he wanted, and he didn’t let anything stop him from finding answers, not even when told to stand down by the mayor himself. In a sense, it was something Wednesday respected about him.

Tyler was the opposite, all counterfeit charm and synthetic smiles for no outwardly apparent reason.

Wednesday didn’t like him. He was only kept around because he was a useful source of information. Having lived in Jericho his whole life, he knew things about the town that she didn’t, but he was still just…off.

She couldn’t explain it, even with her extraordinary diction.

Something about him just caused an innate, negative alchemical reaction within her. He set off her intrinsic alarm bells whenever he was near, like he was the culprit of a terrible (not in the good way) crime that she just couldn’t prove.

Instinctively, she thought back to the observation you offered when she asked your opinion of the boy.

“He’s just…weird, y’know?” you said, eyes glued to the birds flying between the branches overhead, admiring them as you both walked down the familiar woodland path. 

“It’s like he’s wearing the skin of the perfect small-town boy next door. He’s perfected the shy dialogue and sunny personality, but he hasn’t quite gotten the movements and mannerisms down.”

It made her tense, already perfect posture straightening up even more as he rounded her and slowed to a stop a few feet in front of her, effectively blocking her way.

“Hey,” he grinned. “I wasn’t expecting to see you in town. What are you doing?”

“Running errands,” she answered tersely.

“Oh? Shopping for a certain dance perhaps?”

She gritted her teeth at the mention of the event. “We’ve interacted enough for you to know that I have no interest in frivolous school events.”

“Right,” he chuckled, awkward. “Well, hopefully, this one isn’t completely off the table.”

Wednesday had no qualms against squashing the hope in his voice. “It is.” She sidestepped and tried to leave but he blocked her once more.

“Wait, I need to ask you something.”

“Tyler, I have neither the time nor the interest for your inquiries right now.” She tried to move past him, but he grabbed her shoulder to stop her, grip a bit too tight.

Immediately, she ripped herself out of his grasp and gave him a glare so sharp it could’ve cut him in two.

Tyler put his hands up, sounding genuine when he said, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that, I know. I just… Please, just hear me out.”

She continued to glare, but it was clear he wasn’t going to leave her alone about this. Wednesday sighed, jaw clenched tight. “Fine. Hurry up.”

“I was…well, I was just wondering if—”

He cut himself off with a cough. Wednesday exhaled sharply.

“Spit it out, Tyler.”

“…Do you maybe wanna go to the Rave’n with me?” he asked, bringing his hand to scratch his neck in a gesture of nervousness that wasn’t quite convincing enough. Your words echoed in her mind, and she couldn’t help but realize how right you were.

She narrowed her eyes, the no just about to slip off her tongue but she bit it back at the last second and looked at him—really looked at him.

His artificial boyish grin was present, stiff pseudo-withdrawn posture accompanying it. But his eyes were different.

Usually, they were unreadable, vacant of any of the emotion injected into his voice, but not now. Now, she could see the echoes of an unspecified emotion creeping just along the edges of his irises.

There was something lurking within the shadows of his eyes, something that even Wednesday couldn’t quite decipher.

It unsettled her, enough for her to change her plans on the spot.

“Fine. Pick me up at 8. If you’re late, I’ll have Thing remove one of your fingers.”

She didn’t bother waiting for a response, promptly moving past him and around the corner the moment she was finished speaking and maintaining that speed until she was halfway through her new forest path back to Nevermore.

Once she passed the marker of her halfway point, she finally slowed and allowed herself to process what she had seen.

What was that?

Sure, she had thought that something with Tyler was off, but this was her first time seeing an inkling of something genuinely sinister. Could it have some deeper meaning? Could she have been putting her focus on the wrong person for the past few weeks?

She brushed her mild shock aside and took the next logical step in her process—mentally categorizing and contrasting her two suspects.

Xavier had been within close proximity both times she had encountered the monster, at the festival and in the forest with you on Outreach Day. Additionally, he had those suspicious scratch marks on his neck, and though he said they were from a painting of the beast brought to life, that could very well be a lie.

But Tyler’s whereabouts in both of those instances were unknown, so in theory, he could have been there as well. For all she knew, he could be an outcast of some sort as well.

Wednesday sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on.

Looked like she would be attending the dance after all.

-

The night of the Rave’n came far too quickly for Wednesday’s liking.

She was sitting on her bed, squirming uncomfortably in the dress Thing stole for her as she awaited Tyler’s arrival. The sentient hand had already gone off to the dance, under explicit instruction to monitor Xavier for her while she observed Tyler for the night, which he thankfully agreed to without protest.

Enid was also long gone, thankfully. She would already have to deal with her at the dance itself, so she was grateful to have some time to prepare without her roommates squealing.

8 pm rolled around and with it came a knock on her door.

He was technically thirty-seven seconds late, but she wasn’t about to throw away an ample opportunity such as this over that. (Though she would at least think about going through with her threat. Thing would be more than happy to add another finger to his collection.)

With a quiet sigh, she stood and pulled the door open to reveal her companion for what would undoubtedly be a hellish evening.

Tyler looked up when the door opened, a big grin creeping onto his face when he saw her.

“W-Wow, you look…amazing,” he stuttered out, eyes void of the wonder in his voice. Wednesday hummed, running her eyes over his outfit.

Plain white button-up, blazer, slacks, and dress shoes. Following the dress code to the letter. Disappointing.

“You look passable,” she said plainly, moving to stride past him. “Let’s go. Even ‘fashionably late’ has its limits.”

Without bothering to wait for him, she marched onward out of her dorm, leaving Tyler scrambling to catch up behind her. 

She wasn’t sure where exactly the dance was being held, but it was a nonissue. All she needed to do was allow the obnoxiously loud music to guide her way, like a North star.

Unsurprisingly, that worked and before she knew it, they were walking through the entrance, adorned with lights and sequins, and stepping into the event proper.

She took a cursory glance around the room as she entered, and she had to give the decorating committee a bit of credit because the place was not hideous. The flashing lights and nauseating amounts of glittery décor were heinous, but at least there appeared to be a theme present.

Onyx eyes found you instantly, drawn to you like magnets, and she froze in place. Tyler stopped a few paces ahead of her, giving her a weird look but she paid no attention to him.

There were many other eyes on her as well, but she ignored them just the same, instead focused on two things.

First, not only were you here despite saying you had no plans to attend but you were also dressed from head to toe in black. Just as she was. 

And while you weren’t the only person not following the assigned dress code—she was particularly happy to see both Bianca and Enid forgoing it—you still stood out to her far more than the others.

You had forsaken the theme in a way that no one else had. No one besides her, that is.

And second, you were with Eugene.

He was there next to you, smiling and laughing in tandem with you as you talked about god knew what. Her chest tightened and burned with an unfamiliar emotion.

Now, logically Wednesday knew that you had no feelings beyond friendship for the boy, considering both his age and the fact that, to her knowledge, you had only spoken to him a handful of times. But it didn’t matter.

Eugene could be replaced with any other faceless student, and she suspected she would still be upset to see you here with someone else. (In her color, nonetheless.)

As if you could sense her gaze, you looked over toward the entrance where she stood, and you stilled instantly, reflecting her own reaction.

Your smile waned, as did whatever sentence you had been in the middle of, and the shock that painted your expression turned to hurt when your eyes traveled to the boy she walked in with.

Even from across the room, Wednesday could see frost building on the glass in your hand, and she yearned to know what was upsetting you so greatly that you were losing control of your powers. Was it just her mere presence here? Or Tyler’s? A mixture of both?

Before she could properly react, Enid bounded up to her, clapping her hands excitedly. “O-M-G, I love the look! I can’t believe you actually showed up.”

“Neither can I,” she muttered with distaste. Her eyes wandered over Enid’s shoulder to where you were and found that you were no longer looking at her, but instead back at Eugene.

You looked upset, the happiness you radiated only moments ago long gone, and she hated to think that she was the possible cause. Eugene appeared to be consoling you about something. Wednesday itched to go over and ask you herself.

Enid followed her eyes, her smile dropping a bit. “Yeah, you guys are totally matching. I thought it might’ve been coordinated but…” She gave Tyler an unimpressed once-over. “I guess I overestimated your taste.”

Wednesday’s brows raised, focus darting back to Enid. The corner of her lips twitched. Maybe she was beginning to rub off on her chipper roommate.

Again, Wednesday peered over her shoulder and this time found Lucas. When their eyes met, he waved at her nervously, his posture noticeably stiffening as he lingered at the table behind Enid. 

The realization hit and any traces of a smile were gone instantly.

“Well, I suppose I could say the same about you, Sinclair,” she drawled, sending Lucas a pointed look.

Enid grimaced, sending him a sheepish glance. “It’s not what it looks like, I swear. He’s trying to make his ex jealous and I’m just trying to make Ajax jealous. It’s a mutually beneficial temporary partnership, nothing more!”

That sounded immensely stupid to Wednesday, but she nodded anyway to placate the girl. “Well, if he does anything stupid, don’t hesitate to inform me,” she looked back to the boy behind the werewolf, projecting her voice so he could hear. “I brought my pocket mace. The medieval kind.”

Lucas gulped loud enough to be heard over the music, but Enid just giggled.

“Of course. And if you need to ditch your ‘date’, just let me know.” She sent Tyler, who was speaking with Miss Thornhill, a half-hearted smile.

Suddenly, Enid gasped; eyes locked onto a certain gorgon quickly approaching from across the room.

“Ajax is coming this way, I gotta go,” Enid hurriedly explained, going to grab Lucas. “Try to have some fun, Willa! Or as much as you can with that normie.”

Wednesday glowered at the nickname.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that, Enid?” she called after the retreating girl, who only offered a wave in return.

Tyler, finally finished with whatever conversation he was having with her teacher, sidled up to her with his hands buried in his pockets. “So, uh…what do you wanna do?”

Leave, she immediately thought but didn’t say. She looked around for anything remotely interesting and when she found nothing, her eyes settled on the beverage table. She wasn’t thirsty in the slightest, but it was something.

“I’ll go get us drinks.” She only made it a step forward before she was blocked by an arm.

“Allow me,” Tyler remarked with that ever-irritating grin. “You stay here.”

He straightened his blazer and sauntered toward the table, leaving her by herself. 

Aggravation built in her chest, but she couldn’t get worked up so early into the night, so she took a long breath and searched for an empty table.

Only a few seconds into her search, someone snagged her arm and pulled her off to the side. She whirled on them the moment they stopped moving, fist fully prepared to strike, and only halted her attack at the last second when she saw the culprit.

Xavier.

Maybe I should’ve struck anyway, she mused idly. But aloud she said, “What do you want?”

“I can’t believe you’re here with him,” he spat. The vitriol in his voice piqued her interest.

“Why?” she asked. “Do you have history?”

He laughed, rough and humorless. “That’s one way to put it.”

Wednesday crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows expectantly. After a moment, he obliged.

“You remember that blank wall I was staring at on Outreach Day?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Well, last year Principal Weems asked that I paint a mural there to celebrate Outreach Day. I was there after dark finishing it up when Tyler and his asshole friends jumped me. They held me down and beat me up then ruined the painting and just left me there. It took weeks for me to recover.”

Wednesday would admit that she was taken aback. She knew Tyler was hiding something, but to find out that he had been responsible for something so violent was unexpected. Unexpected and incredibly valuable.

She was reminded of what Xavier said the day after the festival about Tyler not being who she thought he was. More and more, it was beginning to look like he had a point.

“And was that his first instance of violent behavior?”

“No,” he said, “he’s been picking on outcasts for years. Only recently has he stopped because he’s ‘reformed’ or some bullshit. But I don’t believe it. People like that rarely change.”

On that, they could both agree.

“I’m only here with him because he’s a suspect, like you. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Xavier didn’t seem comforted by her words. He snorted, “Well at least I’m not the only one you’re willing to use for your own gain.”

She rolled her eyes, not bothering to even respond to the comment. She assumed that to be the end of the conversation, but Xavier remained there, watching her.

He was waiting for something, she realized. Something that would never come.

“I’m not going to apologize for putting my investigation, and thus the safety of everyone in and around Jericho, over your fragile feelings, Xavier,” she said, slowly and succinctly. “So if that’s what you’re waiting for then don’t bother further wasting your time.”

Xavier’s jaw clenched. “Fine,” he gritted out, rueful, and stalked back over to his table.

Wednesday didn’t bother watching him leave, still processing what he told her.

The revelation of Tyler’s violent past marinated in her mind. Seemed like she had a new prime suspect on her hands.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something crawl up onto the table next to her. She looked over and was greeted by Thing. He stood to attention; his stance was alert, but it was clear that he was still excited just to be there.

He even had a bowtie tied around his wrist for the occasion, one she’d never seen before but it was a perfect fit.

“Nice bowtie. Enid?”

He tapped out a confirmation.

“I figured,” she said, then got serious again. “I’m assuming you heard everything that was said?”

Another affirming tap.

“It seems that Tyler is shaping up to be the real prime suspect, but I still want you to keep all five fingers on Xavier. I need to make sure all of my bases are covered, just in case.”

She looked around for her date and found him a few tables away, two drinks sat in front of him. Considering the weird looks he was shooting at Xavier; one could assume that he had seen their discussion. She sighed.

“I should get back before Tyler gets suspicious. Make sure to follow my instructions.” She gave him a look. Then, “Since I know this will be getting dull soon, you can feel free to trip however many people you want. Just make sure it’s within my sightline. I need as much amusement as I can get tonight.”

Thing perked up and gave her an excited thumbs up before scampering back off in Xavier’s direction, likely looking for his next victim along the way.

Once he was out of sight, she made her way over to Tyler, valiantly ignoring the questioning look he was giving her as she took a seat on the other side of the table.

Not one to be deterred, he asked, “What was that about?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” came her easy answer.

“Oh, uh ok,” Tyler stammered. He opened and closed his mouth a few more times (movements still just a bit too scripted to feel real) before sliding one of the cups over to her side of the table.

“I got us the drinks,” he offered, sounding more unsure than he seemed.

“Thanks,” she deadpanned. The cup went untouched, however. She remembered what Xavier said about the punch being spiked, and she had no desire to be inebriated. Especially around Tyler.

Wednesday stared carefully at the boy across from her, watching and waiting for any more unnatural behaviors. But he got suddenly quiet, seeming to actively avoid her gaze, so she turned to survey the dance floor.

The lone black silhouette was easy to spot in a moving sea of white.

You were grinning harder than she’d ever seen before, dancing energetically to a headache-inducing pop song with someone—Eugene, given the curly hair.

It was a mesmerizing sight, seeing you shed your usual reserved nature and be so unrepentantly joyful around so many others.

As she watched you dance and have fun with Eugene, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had made a grave mistake.

She thought back to your earlier reaction when she arrived at the dance, the hurt in your eyes when you saw Tyler. Under the assumption that it wasn’t just a figment of her imagination, could that have been indicative of something?

The idea that you could be harboring feelings for her, mirroring her own current predicament, made her heart race uncomfortably.

If it was true, had she ruined her own chances by pushing you away?

Self-sabotage was an abstract concept to Wednesday. The idea that she would ever hinder her own road to success was laughable. Especially when people like Sheriff Galpin and Principal Weems were content to do that all on their own.

She had always taken what she perceived to be the most logical next step to get her closer to achieving her goals. And that was what she thought she was doing when she pushed you away—eliminating a problem that stood in her way.

But now, being faced with the possibility that she had ruined what she had with you because of her own emotional ineptitude was staggering, inconceivable almost.

Wednesday ruminated over her mother’s parting words to her on her first day at Nevermore.

“You’re a brilliant girl, Wednesday, but sometimes you get in your own way.”

Perhaps her mother held more wisdom than she was willing to give her credit for.

Her self-introspection was halted by Tyler.

“Do…you wanna dance?” he asked, hesitant.

Her answer was immediate. “No.”

Abruptly, someone on her left tripped, falling forward with a piercing squeal and a loud crash. Wednesday smirked. At least Thing was enjoying himself.

The song changed from one loud and irritating pop song to another, prompting more students to flood the dance floor.

Spotting you amongst the chaos was harder, but through a pocket between some students, she was able to catch a glimpse of your dark figure alongside Eugene as the tempo began to pick up.

Some other familiar faces were joining you now, including Enid and her normie not-date, Bianca, who seemingly came to her senses and ditched her date, and a few other people that Wednesday could vaguely remember from the Nightshade’s library. Her lungs burned in her chest despite the abundance of air around her.

It was ironic, she thought, how she felt like she was drowning more now on dry land than she did when she was in the water.

Once again, her observations were interrupted, this time with an angry scoff.

Crossing her arms, Wednesday turned to Tyler, her agitation showing in her voice. “What?”

He released an incredulous laugh at her question, as if she was crazy for even asking.

“You know, I don’t get it, Wednesday. You’ve been distracted all night. First with that werewolf girl, then Xavier, then whoever,” he made an angry gesture in your direction, “that is. What was the point of accepting my invitation if you’re not even going to have the decency to pay attention to me?”

Wednesday forced a sigh through her nose. He was right, but not for the reasons he thought.

She should be using this event to her advantage, taking this time to analyze the boy in front of her for the sake of her investigation. Yet her mind remained steadfast on the thought of you, eyes wanting to get just one more glimpse whenever they possibly could.

She couldn’t begrudge him in his anger here; she knew that she was technically in the wrong, but she wasn’t apologetic either. After all, there was still the chance that he was a serial killer.

A flash of black in her peripherals got her attention. Without turning her head, she looked and saw you heading toward the exit. Her breath stuttered, the urge to get up and follow you pulling painfully at her chest. And for a moment, she genuinely considered it.

In front of her, Tyler banged a fist on the table, successfully bringing her full attention back to him. “You’re doing it again,” he growled out. His fist was clenched so hard that his knuckles were bone white.

The shadows crossed his eyes again, a flash of something malevolent making her dig her nails into her arms. Unflinching, she stared right back with raised brows, practically challenging him to do something, to confirm her rapidly increasing suspicions.

Unfortunately, he didn’t. In the face of her challenge, he backed down and sat back in his chair, posture slumping over once more.

If he was the monster, then he was at least smart enough to pick his battles accordingly.

Wednesday glanced toward the exit again. She knew he was going to make her decide and though it should have been much harder to come up with an answer, she suspected that she had her mind made up from the start.

“Choose,” he demanded, barely loud enough to be heard over the blasting music. “Me or—”

She was on her feet before he could even finish.

Tyler’s shouts of protest went unacknowledged, her feet leading her in the same direction you went. On her way out, she caught Enid’s eyes.

Her roommate flashed her a smile and a thumbs up, to which Wednesday rolled her eyes. But deep down she was glad to have the encouragement. She would likely need it for what came next.

The music faded to a dull roar behind her as she exited the dance, scanning the outside hall for any sign of where you could’ve gone.

Turned out there was no need to search for you because you were right there, on the far side of the room. You were reclined on a bench with your back turned to her, leaning your head against the back of the bench with your eyes closed.

She approached as quietly as possible, her heart thumping so hard she wouldn’t be surprised if it shattered her sternum.

Wednesday had never given much thought to the phrase “absence makes the heart grow fonder” before, thinking it to be a stupid and nauseatingly sappy sentiment. But the ache she felt in her very bones to be close to you again proved her incorrect.

The air chilled the nearer she got to you and the static electricity sparked along her skin. She welcomed both sensations with open arms.

Slowly, she rounded the bench and seated herself on the far side, leaving a generous amount of space between you and her in case you wanted it. With a breath, she broke the quiet.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Taking a break, actually,” you responded, not opening your eyes. “Dancing’s a lot more tiring than it looks and it’s hard to take a breather when there are so many people in there. Too much body heat.”

You didn’t say anything after that and neither did she. Because she wasn’t entirely sure what to say if she was being honest.

Selfishly, she wanted you to just ask. Ask her why she shut you out, why she kept walking every time she saw you. She wanted to know that you, in some capacity, still cared about the work you were doing with her. That you wanted to regain the closeness that she had so swiftly taken away.

More than anything, she wanted to know that you might have missed her. Because she missed you, far more than she had any right to.

And when your voice finally pierced the silence, you did ask her a question, but not the one she wanted to hear.

“How’s the investigation?”

“Still pending, but seminal progress has been made. The suspect list is narrowing steadily,” she informed, keeping her tone neutral.

“Oh?” You raised a brow in her direction. You looked like you wanted to question her further but didn’t. She told you anyway.

“My main suspects at the moment are Xavier and Tyler. That’s why I allowed him to drag me to this horrific affair.”

“I see,” you said quietly. Then, with just a hint of teasing, “And are you having fun?”

She answered with an exasperated look. You looked away with an airy laugh, allowing the thrum of the music to encapsulate the space.

Again, she let the quiet linger to give you an opportunity to speak. She waited and waited but nothing came. It was driving her mad.

Finally, she cracked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Why aren’t you asking me why I suddenly left? Do you not wish to know?”

Your head dropped, a sad smile creeping onto your face. “No, I just figured it would happen sooner or later. I would wear out my usefulness and you would leave me behind to continue on with your investigation by yourself. I guess it was inevitable.”

Your confession caught her off guard. It was odd to see someone so powerful think so little of themselves. She also noticed how it was now her investigation instead of both of yours.

The connotation made something curdle in Wednesday’s stomach.

All at once, she found herself at an impasse. She wanted you to reach out and give her a sign. A sign that you still wanted to be associated with her. That you still felt something—anything for her. That maybe, just maybe you might want her.

But she also knew that it wasn’t right for her to expect that of you. It was only fair that she, as the one that severed the connection, bridged the gap herself if she truly wanted to make things right.

And she did, she found. She wanted it more than anything.

The ache in her bones deepened and urged her to take that first step off the blistering sands and back into dauntingly unfamiliar waves.

“That’s not why I did it.”

“Hm?” you hummed, turning slightly in her direction. You still weren’t looking at her, instead counting the dark frills on the end of her dress and it was bothering her. She clenched a fist.

“I didn’t leave because you were no longer useful to me,” she said, carefully.

She was neck deep now. The final chance to turn back presented itself, but Wednesday let it pass and plunged her head beneath the water. One final leap of faith to reach you.

“I left you behind because I was developing feelings that far exceeded the bounds of a partnership…or a friendship, for that matter,” she admitted, gripping the bench till her knuckles were white. “I thought that if I parted ways with you then they would disappear.”

It was quiet for a moment, the dull thrum of the music in the next room filling the space between.

Then, “Have they?”

“No,” she admitted after a beat.

The air thickened and it made the simple act of breathing a challenge. Wednesday stayed still, eyes studying even the tiniest movements of your face. That made it easy to spot the beginnings of a smile on your face.

“Good.”

The stutter in her heartbeat returned. She swallowed roughly against the sudden dryness in her mouth. “Good?”

Your smile widened, and for the first time since she sat down beside you, you met her eyes. “Yeah. It’s nice to know that my feelings are reciprocated after months of uncertainty.”

It took a minute for the words to truly register. The electricity turned into rolling waves of thunder in her chest, raging a storm as her heartbeat picked up.

“You…feel the same?”

“Of course,” you said, softly. “How couldn’t I? You’re the most riveting person I’ve ever met, Wednesday.”

Even if she could speak, she wouldn’t know what to say to that. In lieu of a verbal answer, she stood and crossed the distance between you and her.

When she settled back down, she was much closer. So close she could feel the blessed cold of your skin against hers. She took a breath then slowly, tentatively, she rested her head on your shoulder.

Wednesday felt you stiffen under her, then relax again. A moment later, you settled your head on top of hers, your cheek nuzzling the crown of her head. That simple act alleviated the deep-seated ache within her.

Finally, she broke the surface of the water and regained her breath. Floating atop the restless sea with you at her side, helping keep her head above the wild waves. In that moment she felt ethereal and unafraid and free.

She would confront Tyler later, hopefully with you at her side once more. But for now, she wanted to maintain this closeness, this blissful weightlessness, and just be here with you for as long as the universe would allow.

[ariariari-freehounreal]

Tw: Violence. Sad, kinda dark shit. Mental unwellness. Body image. Self esteem issues. Fatphobia. Uhhh. Language?

I’ve had this idea of, after portal 2, Chell goes up to the surface and is met with a world occupied by combine.

She finds a city or just general occupied settlement, naively expecting compassion or help from other humans. Humans must be better. [I think Chell is very optimistic, despite her bluntness and stoic nature, which is why she’s so determined, because she has a lot of hope.]

But they aren’t better. And she’s treated like just another citizen. Probably worse, because she can’t talk. Maybe she even becomes like a black sheep and other citizens blame things on her so that she gets in trouble instead of them.

There’s so many ideas I have with this augh.

Ex 1: When Chell first arrives, and is first attacked by the combine, they grab her by her hair so she won’t get away before beating the shit outta her. This ends up massively affecting her self image and she buzzes her hair because she feels like it makes her too vulnerable. (Bonus if it makes her feel like her femininity is a weakness) (extra bonus if she lets her hair grow out when she goes back to GLaDOS because through building their relationship she’s able to regain some of her self confidence)

Ex 2: Chell has extra ptsd now and is very not okay with being touched or cornered/loomed over (bonus if she has nightmares and ends up going to GLaDOS for comfort and they’re awkward and sad and gay) (or if Wheatley is there he says something that triggers her and he doesn’t understand why she’s upset bc no one told him and GLaDOS explains it to him and he apologizes to her and is sweet and kind)

Ex 3: The reason Chell comes back to aperture is bc she’s been fatally injured or was intentionally neglected [probably widespread famine up there] and GLaDOS is like

You little shit‼️ wtf go away die somewhere else‼️ ughh…[then she gayly nurses her back to health and over time they build a healthier bond] [bonus if maybe GLaDOS is able to do some retrieval mission for Wheatley or something] [it’s so unrealistic but him being stranded in space makes me so sad]

ALSO side note but this idea makes me so joyous

So like I hc that if Chell was healthy and eating normally and shit she probably would be chubby and in GLaDOS care she gains weight bc she’s actually being cared for and fed right and she’s happier and healing [bonus science cooperation points if she has self esteem issues about it bc she doesn’t really understand beauty standards as a concept, but understands that as far as she can remember <being like…the events of portal 1 and 2> Fatness has always been equated to wrongness and ugliness and being generally bad so she associates her gaining weight with her being ugly and she has to unlearn that internalized fatphobia]

Okay I’m done ranting I’m actually so insane bye lol

[with-my-murder-flute]

Gideon Nav and the motherless child

(A post I promised at Wiscon in May that I'd write, and am finally getting around to.)

Gideon does not come off as a severely abused and neglected child, and I think there's a reason for that.

Both she and Harrow have full on The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog-calibre childhoods. Harrow acts more like it, from her extremely low thresholds for sensory overstimulation to her entire social... everything. Those are all things kids raised in neglect are way more likely to deal with.

When I first read GtN I was in my habitual "Look self, not everyone works in your field, SFF authors give their characters these kinds of horrible childhoods all the time, nobody else cares about the realistic consequences of bringing a child up that way" mode. Like, it was nice that Muir seemed aware that the Ninth House's children generally would be more sickly and have higher fatality rates, but I also didn't want Gideon to be one speck less herself, so I could live with the slight implausibility.

And then we got Harrow the Ninth. We got the slow revelation of the Sleeper. The revenant. Wake's immense rage.

"I hated that damned sword for years. I don’t know why; it just felt strange—rancorous."

"Where the hell have you been hiding for nineteen years?” “Where—you—fucking—left—me. In my bones. Then a blade. In—that—fucking—hole.”

I immediately remembered: Gideon loved her sword so much she could frigging marry it.

Here's my theory: Gideon is Gideon in part because her mother has been haunting her for years.

Children need love if they're going to grow up. I don't mean that metaphorically. Babies that aren't held, rocked, touched, and soothed don't release the same mix of hormones that tell their bones it's time to move outwards. The steady attachment of baby to the adult who takes care of them is the central pillar around which children construct everything from control of their faculties to their senses of self. When babies are not cared for and able to attach to loving, reliable caretakers, they struggle in so many ways. I know this sounds really vague and ~vibes~-y, but I mean it in the sense of, "here is a curated reading list of scientific research on the topic, which I provide because I can't condense it while also shouting about Griddlehark on Tumblr"

So in GtN, Gideon just seemed like this ridiculously optimistic outcome for a severely maltreated child. She's optimistic and self-confident, brazen but moral, outgoing but centred. She's smart enough to hold her own against Harrow, to make complicated plans for the future, and to cope when her plans encounter hiccups. She knows that she wants to leave the Ninth House, and when she finally manages it, she doesn't panic or find some new miserable hole to shove herself into; she gleefully steps out and stretches her wings. And yet, her less-than-stellar relationships with people back home don't prevent her (in any way other than a little shyness) from forming new, varied, complicated connections with all the different people at Canaan House.

That's all... like, it is wildly optimistic to think that a child whose closest adult attachment figure from twelve months old was as distant and limited as Aiglamene would be like. That is winning the child development lottery.

That, or...

Maybe when she was seven, and her biggest emotional attachment (besides Harrow) was to the imaginary skeleton mother in her head, Aiglamene broke it to her that her mother wasn't out in rotation yet. Maybe Aiglamene led her to the niche where Wake's bones lay. Maybe when Aiglamene left, Gideon sat down there and said, Hello, mother. I love you.

Maybe it was then? Or maybe it was before? As a revenant, Wake's closest link to the living world was her own body, her own bones. But she also had thanergetic links with things like her murder weapon. Her murderer. The baby she'd died delivering to the Tomb. That made it possible before, certainly, but physical proximity counts for something, so maybe it was then, that Wake first tried possessing a living soul.

Wake whispering tiny inaudible suggestions into her daughter's ear like: Fuck this place. Fuck these bones. Light this place on fire. They don't own you. You don't owe them shit. Get up, get out, escape. Blow this place apart. Fight, defy them, make them pay, and remember that ten thousand years of history brought you here to stand against them. Here is what it's like to be a human being, to throw your shoulders back, to fight with people you trust, to gauge your enemies clearly, to know the power you punch with. And if there are no other standing orders: Live. Live. Live.

You cannot tell me Gideon's first act upon receiving a real sword, a soldier's sword, was not to take it down to her mother's niche and show it off. It was probably like offering her an open backpack to hop into.

Maybe all Wake's "mothering" was just her trying with singleminded rage to program instructions for detonation into her bomb. Even still: At least Gideon had a mum who wanted her to be as explosive as she was, and backed her up for every step of it.

Harrow didn't even get that much.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The human condition is…not good. We’re in the polycrisis, a widening gyre of climate emergency, inequality, infrastructure neglect, rising authoritarianism and zoonotic plagues. But that’s not the bad part. Stuff breaks. The Second Law of Thermodynamics is not up for debate. Things fall apart. Assuming nothing will break doesn’t make you an optimist — it makes you a danger to yourself and others. “Nothing will go wrong” is how we get “let’s not put any lifeboats on the Titanic.” Let me say, “to hell with optimism and pessimism.” Optimism and pessimism are just fatalism in respectable suits. Optimism is the belief that things will get better, no matter what we do. Pessimism is the belief that things will get worse, no matter what we do. Both deny human agency, that we can intervene to change things. The belief that nothing will change — that nothing can change — is the wrecker’s most powerful weapon. After all, if you can convince people that nothing can be done, they won’t try to do anything.

-There Is Always An Alternative: Remarks presented to York University’s Faculty of Liberal Arts and Professional Studies Graduating Class of 2023

[awholelotofladybug]

Opposite Personality AU

Marinette and Adrian have opposite personalities except for their classmates.

This is a classic AU idea. It's one that I've seen a dozen times, and it never gets old. I could try my own take on it.

Adrien is a clumsy young man whose parents run a small tailoring business, but his passion is baking. He's kind, creative, and super shy around his crush, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

On the other side, Marinette is the daughter of Sabine Cheng, the wealthy owner of a hugely successful catering company. Marinette is sweet, optimistic, and trusting.

Adrien's best friend is Alya, and Marinette's best friend is Nino.

Rather than Sabine being a villain, Lila is the wielder of the Butterfly, one with extremely dark intentions.

Chloe is childhood friends with Marinette and is severely protective of her since another guy broke Mari's heart a few years back. So immediately, she has a deep-rooted distrust of guys and initially hates Adrien's guts.

Chloe isn't as mean or nasty in this AU because Mari and Sabine have always shown her kindness and affection, making her mother's influence not nearly as bad.

Sabine and Marinette grieve the loss of Tom, who was in a fatal accident.

Chloe is dating Sabrina in this AU. Their relationship is nowhere near as toxic as it is in canon. In fact, they couldn't imagine their lives without each other.

Despite Chloe's distrust of guys, she reluctantly agrees to help Alya and Nino try and get Marinette and Adrien together.

[ceilidho]

Do you have any advice on doing a character study for a character before writing them? Stuff like how they’d act/respond 👁👄👁

haha it's quite tricky, I won't lie! it's definitely one of the things I struggle with the most (writing really well-rounded and defined characters). Here are a couple things that I do, but keep in mind that I'm reeaaalllyyyy not an expert on this. I'm still learning so much about characterization every day.

If you're writing fanfiction, watch or read the source material as much as possible, until you can almost hear the way the character sounds in your head. Take time to understand things like their accent and how they speak (do they talk a lot or very little? do they use slang or enunciate everything? do they speak quickly or slowly?). Here, you just want to concentrate on the cadence of their speech / their speech patterns. If they speak plainly or use lots of proverbs or turns of phrases, that sort of thing. If you have that down, you've honestly done half the work. Even I often reread my work and go "fuck, all of these people SOUND the same even though they're saying different things".

This is harder if you're not writing fanfiction and have to create your own universe, but regardless of whether you're writing for an existing IP or your own 'verse, I think understanding your character's cultural and religious background is so crucial to developing them. It's a big part of the lens through which they see the world, whether consciously (if they're a very religious character for example, or raised in a specific country) or subconsciously (for example, I grew up catholic so I relate to the world through that lens, even though I'm not a religious person - it just heavily informed me in my childhood years). For this Bear story, I had to do a bit of research around Baptist theology because I knew Bear would be a religious character (whether or not he's struggling with that religion) and it would heavily inform how he sees the world around him. I listened to some sermons, talked to someone with a Baptist background, and also thought about how that background with tie into his desire to have a family).

Pick like 3-5 words that you think best describe your character and just write them down somewhere. I've never been very successful when I make huge character sheets for my characters or try to write a super detailed background for them, so I try to give myself a bit of grace and be brief about it. You can always expand on it going forward. Like for someone like Bear, I might pick: family-oriented, religious (Christian), gruff, and scrupulous. You can also do this in the reverse way and try to think of what they're not (same example with Bear, I might go: conniving, hedonistic, flighty, and optimistic LMAO). This is a nice way to put like, boundaries around your character.

In the framework of your story, try to pick a trajectory for your character, or a goal. At least have one, but you could have a couple. If they're directionless, that works too! But they should want something or aspire to be something. This counts even if they think that thing they want is beyond them or unattainable - it's still a want/goal pushing them forward. This can also be an unconscious goal by the way -> like a very hedonistic character that likes to party who's slowly getting worn down from that life and doesn't even realize they want to settle down, or vice versa! Someone who feels trapped in their mundane life but thinks that's what's expected of them. The character doesn't have to know they want this goal.

Fatal flaws. This is a big one. What is something that might get in the way of them achieving their goal or might influence how they get it? Easiest way to think of this is just looking at the 7 deadly sins (soooo corny, but it's a good place to start). Characters are never perfect, so give them a reason to struggle.

And honestly lastly? Trial and error, baby. Take your vaguely defined character and figure out what you want them to achieve (whether or not they get it is beside the point), and then work out how they might go about achieving that. If they'd run full throttle towards it because they think they deserve it or whether they'd fight it every step of the way because they either don't think they want it or don't think they deserve it.

I'm sorry if this is very messy!! It also totally depends on you as a writer. When I try to make "character background sheets", it gives me anxiety and I end up not following through with my writing versus when I try to keep it brief and just dive into the writing and slowly change things and edit as I write. But maybe a sheet works best for you!

[rachelbethhines]

Five Tangled AUs I'll Never Write Because I Don't Have The Time

1. Eugene gets adopted by Quirin instead of going to the orphanage.

He still becomes Flynn Rider and rescues Rapunzel from the tower, but his turn to crime is due to a falling out between him and his dad after his and Varian's mom disappears under mysterious circumstances.

Quirin is keeping secrets, and thier relationship is strained, but after meeting Rapunzel, Eugene is trying to mend that relationship with him... Only for the amber incident to cut that short.

Obviously the biggest change here is that Eugene and Varian are brothers, so Varian isn't left alone after the snow storm. Rather, Eugene is trying to protect Varian from King Frederic while also trying to stay in his future father-in-law's good graces... All while dealing with his own grief.

This drastically changes the conflict and outcome of season one. Forcing Rapunzel to confront her father directly and own up to his misdeeds, and brings Varian along on the season two road trip.

Also Eugene has even less reason to accept Edmund because Quirin is the man who raised him and is his 'real dad' for all intents and purposes.

Also, thier mom, Ulla, being trapped by Zan Tiri and finally escaping would be a major plot point in season three.

2. Digimon AU

Rapunzel, Eugene, Cassandra, Varian, Lance, Styalan, and Caine are all college students who get sucked into the digital world.

They each get their own digimon and must face off against the seven digimon demon lords in order to return home, and in doing so confront their own worse vices.

Rapunzel's digimon is Coronamon. She is The Leader of the group and her element is Fire/Light/Sun. Her nemesis is Belphemon, and her main vice is Sloth. Because she keeps avoiding her problems by chasing after frivolous pursuits. Such as standing up to her abusive mother Gothel, or dealing with her responsibilities as the leader of her team.

Eugene’s partner is Kudamon. He’s The Mediator of the group. The voice of reason and common sense. His elemental is Wind. His nemesis is Lucemon, and his main vice is Pride, for his uses vanity to compensate for his low self esteem born from growing up in the foster system.

Cassandra’s digimon is Lunamon, and her rival is Leviamon. Her fatal flaw is Envy, for she’s jealous of Rapunzel. She’s The Second in Command; because she offers a counter balance to Rapunzel’s way of doing things, but they butt heads often. Her element is Darkness/Moon.

Varian is The Brains of the outfit. His digimon is Labramon, who can change to either a vaccine or virus upon evolution. However his main thematic element is Electricity. His nemesis is Daemon and his vice is Wrath. As the youngest in the group, he often feels unheard and will lash out in anger.

Lance is The Heart of the team, as he’s forever the optimist. His digimon is Otamamon and his element is Water. His rival is Beelzemon, and his fatal flaw is Gluttony, for he never had enough growing up in the foster care system, therefore he shows no restraint when given opportunities, even if it means hurting someone else.

Caine is The Muscle of the group. Her digimon, Goblimon, is a heavy hitter when he digivoles, and she’s the most likely to throw a punch against a monster on her own. Her enemy is Barbamon, and her vice is Greed. She’s criminal on the run for theft, but it’s a life she feels she was forced into. Her element is Metal/Ground.

Stalyan is The Chick, for lack of a better trope term. She’s daddy’s spoiled little rich girl who is in for a rude wake up call when she gets to the Digital World. Her digimon is Floramon and her element is Grass. Her rival is Laylamon and her fatal flaw is Lust. She’s in love with Eugene, but he doesn’t return her feelings. Her obsession with him, is tied to her own insecurities and desires for being accepted.

3. Prince Varian

Varian is Rapunzel’s little brother. He’s actually Arianna and Quirin’s son, but Frederic raised him as his own. Both are ignorant of Varian’s true parentage, with Varian just believing Quirin is his bodyguard/mentor. 

Yet with the return of his long lost sister Varian feels even more out of place with in the Castle and keeps sneaking off to Old Corona to visit Quirin, who is now a retired knight, and to work on his experiments in secret.

Only the truth comes out after a horrible lab accident that traps Quirin in amber, and now Varian doesn’t know where he belongs.   

4. Eugene is raised by Hector

Horace knows who he is and his duty to keep the moonstone safe. He has rarely traveled beyond the great tree. But he begins to question his entire place in the world when a group of travelers come in search of his family's treasure, with one of them claiming to be the living embodiment of the fabled Sundrop.

Since Eugene/Horace never left the Great Tree, he never became Flynn Rider, never stole the crown, and never met Rapunzel in the tower.

This means Rapunzel never leaves on her 18th birthday to see the lights, but her tower is destroyed by the black rocks six months later. Leaving her and Mother Gothel without a home.

While in search of a new place to live they meet, Varian, who is trying to figure out the mystery of the rocks, Cassandra, who is searching for the lost princess to prove her worth to her dad, and Lance, a thief who offers to be their guide in order to hide from the Stabbingtons who he owes money too.

The five of them go on a quest to find the moonstone when Varian shows them the piece of his father's scroll (who is not trapped in amber this time) much to the discouragement/disapproval of Mother Gothel.

Gothel tries to dismiss the legends of the moonstone while keeping her and Rapunzel's identities secret. (Everyone figures out she's the Sundrop/connected to the rocks right away, but not that's she's the lost princess) But as she can't be too far away from her precious flower for too long she gets dragged on the quest anyways.

Cue Gothel reluctantly becoming everyone's mama as she tries to keep them alive and convince Raps to give up this silly quest and find a new home, while also not letting it slip that she's really Cass's birth mother, nor the thief of the long lost princess, nor an ancient sorceress who betrayed a powerful demon in order to have eternal youth and said demon could come back to kill them all if released by the Sundrop touching the Moonstone.

Basically what I'm getting at is we have a scenario where a manipulative asshole who is desperately just trying to survive while not being caught in her web of lies, is slowly coming to care for a bunch of snot-nosed, bratty, insecure teenagers, and she hates it!

This also means that by the time the gang reaches the Great Tree, Rapunzel's and Eugene's roles are reversed. She's the experienced adventurer using him, though unintentionally on her part, to get what she wants, while unexpectedly falling in love, and he's the sheltered shut in who discovers that there's more to the world.

And just to complicate matters, King Frederic, Quirin, and Adria, team up to invade The Dark Kingdom in order to destroy the moonstone with Adria's sword. Quirin betraying his brother Edmund because he thinks Varian is dead from the rocks having destroyed their village/castle in the night.

5. Cassandra is the Dark Princess

I mean, I think this should have been cannon anyways, but Cassandra and Eugene are long lost siblings. Both are heirs to the Dark Kingdom and it's their mom who is left alive to guard the Moonstone.

Said Mom thought they were both lost when the kingdom fell, not knowing that their nurse saved them on the night Edmund went mad.

The Queen convinces Cassandra that protecting the moonstone from the Sundrop is her duty, believing that both coming together will destroy the world. Not realizing that Cass would actually grab it away from Raps in their fight over it and become possessed by Zahn Tiri in the process.