i see your “body swap au where Enid dresses up in all her colourful clothes as Wednesday” and I respect it
but what if, hear me out, Enid experiences colour the way Wednesday does?
it hurts her eyes to look at her own side of the room. she gets migraines walking through all the bright shops in Jericho. and when her arm brushes against Wednesday’s, it feels as though he skin is being seared off.
Wednesday, for her part sees no need to change out of Enid’s colourful clothing, in fact, it’s kind of nice to be able to wear something of Enid’s without taking antihistamines.
when Enid mentions that it feels as though she has just pressed against silver, Wednesday opens a chest stocked full of Epipens and allergy tablets. Shoves a few of each into Enid’s hands and gets back to the task at hand.
Enid is left to realise that Wednesday was not kidding, even a little bit, about being allergic to colour.
i walk into starbucks and order a pumpkin spice latte with 13 shots of espresso. i tell the barista that i intend to transcend humanity and become a god. i ask for no whip cream
eventually you realize you don’t want to die. you just don’t want to live the life you’re living. and slowly you try to create a life you want to live. just gotta start there.
I love that phenomenon where ur talking to another neurodivergent person for the first time and u haven’t quite grocked their flavor of brain yet and they haven’t grocked yours and you’re both using your Acceptable Friendly Person Getting To Know You Script on each other but of course those scripts have been calibrated mainly for use with, like, normal people, so you just end up being like two conversational roombas bonking gently off one another like “hello fellow human” “hello fellow ‘hello fellow human’” until you both at some point manage to adjust your programming and actually like, communicate
It’s like when I was a kid I had two furbies and when you put them next to each other they’d just natter nonsensically past one another for a bit and then at some point one would abruptly recognize the other with its furby sensor or w/e and it would shout “DANCE!” and the other one would flap its ears and reply “HEY, DANCE” and then, in perfect unison, they would begin to rock back and forth while chanting “doot doot doo doot doot doo”
It’s exactly like that. I love it. Crazy people are the best, we are super excellent, i love us, i love crazy ppl
Anyone else feel like they missed a significant youth socialization thing that would make sense of the visceral hate for polys? Why does it incite actual anger? This is obviously more than meeting an annoying ex-theater kid poly dom once
Go for it, Samus!! You’re our icon!! 🌈
Gwen | She/Her | Trans Lesbian | I'm a professional editor and write smutty sapphic fanfiction on AO3
81 posts